#fantiction

[forteafy]

Baby Steps | MV1

Summary: You've always been Mercedes golden girl; your life and career have been set out in stone. All it takes is for your ultimate rival to change that all.

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: Mild Smut, Childbirth, Angst, Mentions of Jos Verstappen.

26th November; the night of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix should have been the happiest of your life. 

Not many people in the world can hold their head up high and say they have won a Formula 1 world championship, let alone three. Ever since your toothy grin and shy comments when first stepping into the paddock, you had been making waves in the motorsport world. Years later, under the attentive eye of Toto Wolff and Mercedes, you had become effortlessly cool and undeniably talented; the core makings of a three-time world champion. 

The night of your first win was…you can’t even say a distant memory; the last thing you could vividly remember was linking arms with the golden boy of Mercedes, laughing merrily as you were guided down to the foyer of the extravagant hotel, the entire team with their warm comments and loving attitude ready for their new-found champion. The next day consisted of crouching over the porcelain throne, your insides rejecting any form of substance, the smell of tequila on your skin making you belch more. It was a cruel cycle, but one that every world champion had learnt. 

It also hadn’t ceased you from repeating the identical routine the next year; the feeling was so nice, you had to do it twice. Ironically, you had also worn the identical bra and panty set of the first year; not that anybody had seen it. Boys were off limits during the height of your career. This was your choice, of course. PR would have given their overpriced marketing tools to see you on the arm of a successful man, thinking of the faux love story they could spin. 

No, in order to be successful, respected; you’d sworn off any romantic relationship. You were not a figure to be held next to a man for beauty. Moreover, you were almost certain that if Toto saw a man within three feet of you, he’d frighten them off, in true fear that anybody would come near his youngest prodigy. 

The third year had been set; the routine was laid out in front of you, ready to make mistakes you’d groan and then forget about by the fourth. Instead, you found yourself crouched in the cramped cubicle of the nightclub, a hand over your mouth and nose, attempting to muffle the gulps from your lips. Your eyes had glossed over, intensely focused on the piece of plastic fisted in your palm. Two blue lines, interlapped to create a cross. A plus sign. A positive sign.

You were pregnant. 

19th October; a month prior to what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

You’d been the personification of a peacock; feathers flexing as you walked through the paddock, your tenth pole position of the year resting comfortably on your shoulders. Heavy pats on your back, a cheeky wink towards the camera of Sky Sports and cheers from the crowds had guided your return to your motorhome, thanking your PR assistant as you slid into the only four walls on the track where there was a form of privacy. 

Except there wasn’t. A figure was relaxed into your sofa with a photograph in his hands, eyes trained on your body when you’d entered the room, unknowing of their presence. A grin appeared on his smug face upon seeing you practically skyrocket out of your skin, noting the other person in your sanctuary. He eventually stands up, removing his branded Red Bull cap to place on your sofa. 

“You shouldn’t be here, Max.” You scoff, snatching the polaroid out of his fingers, returning the photo to its rightful place; atop of the plush chilli Carlos Sainz had bought you for your birthday. (He’d also bought you a bullet vibrator, trying to remind you of your stubbornness, urging you to relax a little.) 

“Nice photograph.” He comments, his blue eyes flickering over to where it now stood, propped up in pride. You sat centre of the track in Abu Dhabi; two younger figures sat between your legs. They both rested a chubby hand on your World Driving Championship trophy, huge grins at the shining object. “Friends of yours?” 

“Sisters.” You mumble in return, removing the snapback from your head, balancing it on top of your shelf. The cool air finds the roots of your hair instantly, a wave of relief rolling through your entire body when your hand comes up to soothe your scalp. “Congratulations on…was it P16?” You gloat, hoping your rival would catch the message that you didn’t want him to be there. 

Max feels his lips drop and eyebrows meet at the cold reminder of his own qualification result. He knew the season was drawing to a close, quickly at that, and the constant reminder that he would be losing another championship to Mercedes golden girl was the last thing he needed. The smug grin on your lips remains, turning around to slide your arms out of your race suit, letting the top half rest on your hips, sleeves hanging loosely at your legs. 

“That’s why I came to see you.” He responds, standing up straighter, arms folded as his eyes train on your own movement. “It makes my losses look miniscule compared to your own.” His own grin has returned now, satisfied with his own response to the situation. 

You had been playing this game for months. The first year of your relationship on the grid had been friendly, the second had been hostile. The third had been downright dangerous. It began to get to a point where the grid, the press, everyone had picked up on the relationship between yourself and the Red Bull driver. 

“Hey, I’ll do anything to help you forget this will be my third World Championship.” You snap back, turning around to meet his figure, your own arms mimicking, folding against your chest. This time, you take a step closer. “Maybe next year Christian Horner will remember his ‘Precious Little Maxie.’ 

Max scoffs at the nickname you had given him, eyes noting the step you had taken. He responds, taking his own step. “Trust me. There’s nothing little about me.” His eyes meet yours when he finishes his sentence, and for the first time, Max Verstappen has left you completely and utterly speechless. Mind goes into overdrive, years of hatred are forgotten has his hands fly out, grasping each side of your face, meshing his lips to your own. 

Your first thought is to push the swine away, slap him across the face and scream for Toto Wolff to grab him by the collar. Clouded, spaced out; your mind begins to crack, your only thought is how good his lips feel against your own, how soft they feel against your cheek, how sinful they trace against your neck. 

Max’s palms had originally rested on your cheek, they had begun their trail, slithering down your sides, grip tightening as they reached your hips, forcefully pulling you towards his body, grinding his crotch against your own, the desperation of his member clearly noticeable. 

A gasp emitted from your lips, feeling his teeth begin to nip across the soft skin of your neck, desperately searching for that one spot that would make you crumble. Max’s hands make quick work, one wrapping around your waist in order to keep you secure, the other grasping you fireproofs, race suit and panties in a fluid motion, exposing the sweet centre he had been craving. Nimble fingers trail around your entrance, swiping a finger against your most sensitive bundle of nerves, rewarding him with the most sinful sound he had ever received. 

“Max-“ You gasped, mind clouded by lust, how your desire of this man had built from your core the moment you had seen him in person, years ago. “Max, please-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He mumbled, his own hand pulling down his trousers and underwear, rubbing his shaft for preparation. “Do not ruin this fucking moment.” 

In a swift motion, Max has you pinned against the wall of your driver room, the cool wall sending a shiver against your skin. You barely have time to register the coolness dancing across you before your mind is overwhelmed by the feeling of his length slipping into your wet folds, and there is truly nothing little about him in that moment, mind sent into overdrive when he brings his lips back to yours. 

19th December, twenty-three days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

You had finally thrown yourself entirely into a distraction; Christmas. You’d flew back to Brackley alongside your teammate, both of you returning to the Mercedes base before retiring for the holidays. There had been no string short of invites flooding into your inbox, asking if you wanted to join them in any festivities. Anything at this point was a wanted distraction from the impending coil growing in your stomach, both figuratively and literally. 

And so, you attended a Christmas Market alongside George and Carmen, passing on the mulled wine the two had insisted on trying. You’d gone to see Jack’s Christmas performance alongside Toto and Suzie but declined going to the fish restaurant they had mentioned; (you’d read somewhere in your first week of sheer panic that you could no longer go near fish whilst pregnant.) You’d gone to Lando’s new apartment in London but had seen the scowl on his face when you’d complained about your ‘bad stomach,’ and couldn’t do any heavy lifting of decorations. 

It wasn’t until Christmas Eve; Lewis had come to your family’s home, presents for your younger siblings, parents and yourself, of course. He’d sat politely, sipped on your mother’s tea, laughed politely at the antics building up towards the big day itself. 

Spending time with somebody for three quarters of the year will teach you a lot about them; Lewis knew you like he knew each twist and turn of every track he’d raced along during the years. He knew you laughed with your whole stomach to the point where you had to grab something for support; that before every single race you would have your ‘top secret handshake’ with your race engineer, (you insisted your race would always go more smoothly if you did so, the last time you didn’t had resulted in a DNF.) 

What Lewis knew most, was you were a complete and utter sucker for anything with chocolate. He had seen you practically sob when your trainer had found protein brownies that would work in your diet. So why did you decline your mothers’ sweet desserts when offered around the lounge? Why did you seem to hold your breath when the scent of treats was wafted under your nose, almost as if you’d vomit if you came into contact with them? 

Carefully, your teammate placed his mug down on the low table, wiggling out of the space between your younger sisters; both were entranced by him. In any other situation, he would have sat there for hours, listening to their oh-so-sweet stories. Instead, he whistled for Roscoe, watching as the dog stooped up from his position by the fire, tottering over towards his owner.

“I’m going to take Roscoe out for a wee.” He nods towards your figure, slouched on the opposite sofa. “You coming?” The way he phrases his question; you can tell it’s not a question, it’s a command. You nod, placing down your own mug, stretching as you pulled yourself away from the leather recliner. 

Your sisters were now engrossed by one of the presents Lewis has insisted they had to open early. Your mother and father were running through their guest list for tomorrow; nobody seemed to notice as the two of you slipped on your outerwear, whistling for Roscoe as you stepped through the dining room and onto the porch of the family home you had gifted your parents almost 1 year ago now. 

Lewis’ eyes meet yours the moment you had closed the ornate doors. You struggle to meet his gaze; you know he has begun to put the pieces of this metaphorical puzzle together. He barely waits for the sound of the door closing before he starts to speak, the mannerisms he reserves for his teammate in instant appeal. 

“Alright. What’s happening then?” He asks almost instantly, motioning for you to walk alongside him, taking the scenic route of the large garden. “You’d never turn down sweet things. You do everything to make your mother smile, why would you turn down her cooking?”

“I’ve just gone off that kind of stuff.” You mumble, not really thinking about what you were saying. You’d later remember to be more careful with your responses. You were not expecting him to piece it together so quickly through his own train of thought. 

“Oh, my sister was like that when she was pregnant with-“ He cuts himself off, ceasing his steps when he realises what has escaped his lips. His head snaps back to look at you, and his heart melts. You, his self-assured, sweet teammate, now with tears in your eyes, a visible shake running across your body. He’s not stupid, he’s far from it. 

“You’re pregnant.” He almost whispers, seeing how the words are visibly affecting you. Lewis says nothing, instead pulling you straight into his chest, arms engulfing you as he feels your body loosen, silently shaking with held back tears of being reminded of your current situation. “But…how?” He murmurs, loud enough for you to hear. He knew of your dating rule. Even outside of the press, no man ever seemed to be enough to knock you down, let alone knock you up. 

You can’t tell him, not now. You couldn’t tell him. You had to tell him. 

“Max.” You whisper, barely able to have the name on your lips. Lewis’ brows furrow. He knows in his heart he is right, but he doesn’t want to be. 

“Fewtrell?” He responds, referencing to Lando’s oldest friend. You had been to see them recently, after all.

“Verstappen.”

Lewis’ isn’t sure what to say in that moment. Instead, he simply keeps you in his arms, in this moment at least, he can keep you warm, safe. Away from questioning eyes and the stories which will surely follow you until the end of time, until the end of your career. Instead, he asks the one question which you had been blocking out for oh-so-long, that you had been putting off since you threw yourself into these festivities. 

“What are you going to do?” 

6th January, 41 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

You knew what you were going to do.

You knew from the moment you had been called into your first ultrasound scan; by this point, only a few select people knew of the situation. Lewis. Your parents. The delivery driver at Dominoes Pizza whom had given you a strange look when handing over a pizza with no cheese, but three lots of spicy peppers. 

Going to your first ultrasound alone had been terrifying; bringing somebody along would have drawn too much attention. You had played a mighty risk by going alone, hoping you wouldn’t be recognised. You didn’t want Mercedes to catch wind of the happenings, instead hoping nobody would openly tweet about your live location.

Your nurse doesn’t recognise you; if she does, she doesn’t show it. She’s polite and kind, makes sure that you haven’t used the bathroom in four hours, something to do with amniotic fluid. The cold jelly on your stomach sends an odd feeling through your body, as if cold cream was balancing on your tummy. There’s a sharp prod, a poke, and then you see the nurse smile.

“Ah, there they are!” She glows. 

And there they are. Sat there, in your stomach. A small curve, to anybody else, a completely unidentifiable shape. But to you? The most precious shape that was completely and utterly undeniably yours. How you could have thought that you could go through life without knowing them is beyond you. 

That was the moment you knew what you were going to do.

All you had to do now, was tell Toto. No big deal. 

23rd February, 89 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

“Horner!”

Toto was known to be larger than life, and his voice only proved that theory as he stormed out of his Paddock Office, completely abandoning any information being presented about Pre-Testing in Bahrain. Instead, he’s seeing red, he’s seeing that Horner’s complete and utter dickhead of a driver has knocked up his winner. His current champion. (With no disrespect to Lewis, of course.)

Your teammate had been there, holding your hand when you had broken the news to Toto, your race engineer and your trainer. Your PR assistant was aware of the situation, currently attempting to make a game plan of how to handle the situation. She was adamant you needed to remain in the paddock; you ­still needed to be a part of the sporting world, even if you weren’t driving. 

At first, Toto thought it was Lewis’ baby, ready to bang both of their heads together and reprimand them for not being careful. When it had slipped whose child it was, (Toto was well aware of your rule too, he was just as confused as Lewis had been when he’d first found out.) Toto didn’t care about anything. More importantly, he didn’t care that your pregnancy wasn’t public knowledge. 

Toto had stormed into Red Bull’s garage, much to the widened eyes of Christian Horner. Despite being shorter, he instantly holds himself against the Austrian, arms folded, a smirk on his face at the entrance of the unwanted guests. 

“How can I help you, Toto?” He smirks, ready for some remark. Instead, Toto leans to Christian’s ear, murmuring something unhearing to the rest of the garage. You can take a guess to what is said however, judging by how pale the Red Bull’s Team Principle had gone. In one swift move, he motions for Toto and yourself to follow him, calling out to his own team. 

“Send Max to my office. Now.” His voice is unrevealing, but his skin is growing paler by the minute. 

You had never been into a Red Bull garage, and yet now you sat in Horner’s own office, amazed by the fact their colour schemes and trophies could be carried around the world. Mercedes kept theirs at home, sometimes plain and simple was the way to go. You began to wonder if you should bring your trophies to your next races, maybe it would give the team a reminder of what can be achieved. 

“Sit.” Horner motions to the couch in the office. You take a seat almost instantly, overwhelmed by the entire situation. Lewis places himself next to you, an arm around your back protectively. Toto refuses to take a command, instead remaining standing, arms folded, a glare of hatred towards Christian. 

“I don’t know why you’re so mad at me.” The Red Bull team principal scoffs. “I didn’t tell Max to sleep with your little prodigy.” He may not be showing it, but Christian himself was downright livid with his driver. Max needed to focus; the team needed to focus on gaining back a world championship. Max was scarily focused, but when it came to the women in his life; his mother, his sister, his new little girlfriend Christian had seen in the paddock earlier that day, he would change, they became his focus. 

“You need to keep that boy away from my team!” Toto retaliates. He could have gone deeper, he was all but ready to drag Max into the middle of the track and hold him there, letting Lewis drive into him at full force. Before any more threats could be thrown across the office, a door opens, the present grin on Max Verstappen’s face wiped instantly upon seeing Toto, Lewis and yourself. 

“Max.” Christian starts, arms folded, the voice he used to reprimand his children now present. He can’t continue his phrasing however, before Toto scoffs, pointing an accusing finger towards the driver. 

“You!” He roars, instantly forgetting the plead you had given him half an hour before, longing to keep this news as quiet as you could for as long as possible. “You couldn’t keep away; you have ruined my team! How dare you knock her up!” Toto is only stopped when you jump up from your seat, grabbing both of his arms in an attempt to stop his frantic ranting. 

It takes Max a moment to process what has been said, he’s always struggled with quick responding when it’s not on a racetrack. It hits him all at once. Your pregnant. You’d slept together a month ago. Without protection, purely in the heat of the moment. Max Verstappen was going to be a father alongside his arch-rival. 

“You’re pregnant?” Max can’t help his questioning, catching your eyes for the first time since entering the room. You can only offer him a nod, unable to form words in that current moment. “And…it’s mine? Are you sure?”

Your blood ran cold, you finally understood the rage that your Team Principle. You turn around, eyes darkened, shaking your head in pure anger. “Who else have I slept with, Max? You want to tell me that?” The audacity of this man. How dare he question you. 

“You’re not keeping it, right?” Christian is the first to question. Max’s eyes gloss over, coughing lightly before overtaking the conversation from his own Team Principle. “I’m- I’m not ready to be a father.” His own skin mimics that of Christian; he turns as pale as the white lines of a hard tyre. 

“You’re not-“ You cut yourself off, instead opting to keep silent. You had nothing else to say. Max had made his stance on the situation ­clear. “I don’t need you, Max. I can do this myself.” The entire room watches as you pull away from Lewis and Toto, never once looking at the father of your child. 

10st March, 105 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

The Monaco Grand Prix was usually the highlight of your year; champagne podiums, speed boats and the comfort of sleeping in your own bed. However, this time you were not watching it from the screen of your car, nor the comfort of the paddock. You’d opted to remain at your apartment. For a start, the headlines which had been spiralling across the media were growing overwhelming. ‘Mercedes driver pulled out of racing until further notice.’ ‘Max Verstappen breaks up with new girlfriend after only weeks together.’ ‘Valtteri Bottas to pose for nude charity calendar.’

Maybe that last one wasn’t to do with your situation; you were all too aware of how your grid buddy could act in his down time. 

Your second worry was the fact that your bump was beginning to grow adamant. It had only been around three months, yet the bump seemed almost ballooning. Every piece of clothing you tried on made you feel like it was more and more obvious. You didn’t want anybody seeing what was happening to your body. Besides, it wasn’t like the pregnancy was an ­entire secret anymore.

You hadn’t heard from Max since that day in the office. Toto had found you crying an hour later, coaxing you to stop for your own health and the sake of the baby. For the first part of the racing season, your unfilled seat had been passed to George Russell. You’d smiled at each interviewer, telling the world you had an injury which made driving next to impossible at the present time. For each Grand Prix, you’d stayed sat next to Toto, cheering on the silver arrows. Maybe you hadn’t seen Max because you barely set foot outside of the garage. 

The news had slowly begun to spread from driver to driver, though each remained loyal and hadn’t told the press of your true reasoning for stepping away. Charles had been around in an instant, helping you to talk through what had been happening. He was your neighbour, after all, he liked to check in when he could. You’d had a visit from Daniel, telling you his best friend was a…well, how he put it, ‘a grade-a cunt,’ for how he had reacted. 

There was only one person, however, whom you had wanted to speak to. Sebastian had been a close friend, almost a mentor, during your first batch of Formula 1 seasons. He was also a father himself, maybe he would be able to explain to you Max’s stance on the whole thing. 

You knew he was visiting Monaco that weekend for the Grand Prix. When your phone buzzed from your living room, you’d assumed it was him asking for you to come and let you into the complex. What you were not expecting, was the text on your phone from none other than the father of your child. 

14:05: Max Verstappen

I don’t know if you have me blocked, I’m hoping you do not. I want to apologise for my reaction. It was a lot. I want to be there, for you and our child. 

14:09: You

I appreciate the message. Thank you. My next scan is on Tuesday, after Monaco. 

14:11: Max Verstappen

I’d like to be there. Could you send me the details, please?

14th March, 109 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

Max Verstappen was not a practical man. 

Despite telling him you would meet him at the address you had sent him, he’d shown up to your apartment just before you were set to leave. Standing in the lobby of your apartment complex, a large bouquet of flowers resting in his arms. You could have sworn you’d never seen Max outside of jeans and a Red Bull polo shirt; it was refreshing to see him in crisp shirt and cargo trousers. 

“You didn’t have to dress up.” You mumble, looking down to your own outfit; a soft summer dress seemed positively ordinary; hair loose around your shoulders. It was just a scan, after all. It wasn’t as if the two of you would be going on a date; you hated the man stood in front of you. However, a smile is soon nestled on your face when the man offers you the bundle of flowers, offering a warm grin alongside them. 

“You look nice.” Max nods, motioning towards the exit of the complex. His car was parked directly outside, as in order to avoid the press whom would undoubtedly be looking for the drivers in Monaco. The flowers decorated your arms, carefully resting them on your lap before adjusting your seatbelt. “Do you need anything?” He looks back to the complex, concerned if you had forgotten something.

“I just need the bathroom.” You mention half-heartedly. Max’s eyes widen, ready to step out of the car and lead you back into the apartment. “Oh-“ You cut yourself off, having to explain the situation. “No, I need a full bladder for the scan, so they can see the baby.” The man nods in understanding, sitting himself in the driver’s seat, looking both ways before beginning to start the route towards clinic. 

The car ride between the two of you was unusually peaceful; Max made light conversation, filling you in on the antics of the paddock from that weekend. You can’t hold back the laugh from your lips when he mentions Christian Horner slipping off his high seat when excitedly jumping to his feet. You missed the paddock; you missed the feeling of racing; you especially missed the banter between your friends. You’d have to return, sooner rather than later.

When the two of you pulled into the car park, Max was quick to step out of his seat, opening the car door for you. You offer him a quiet thanks before making your way into the building, side by side. The nurse you had previously seen gives you a smile, delighted to finally see the father of the baby alongside you. 

Max had silently followed you into the room; it wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak, quite the opposite. The man was taking in every piece of information that was being given, silent notes in his mind on each aspect. He’d keep the baby safe; he’d keep you safe, too. Ever now the gentlemen, he helps you to lie down on the seat, your bumped stomach revealed through lifting the skirt of your summer dress. 

He can’t help but notice the soft underwear decorating your lower half. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen you naked, after all. That’s how you had got here in the first place. His thoughts are soon side-tracked when seeing you wince from the coldness of the jelly and the cramp of the scanning machine. Max’s hand trails, feeling your own resting aside your body. He can’t help but hold onto it, trying to offer you some sort of comfort. Maybe it’s the sudden nerves, but your hand grabs back just as tightly, feeling his thumb rub carefully against your knuckles. 

“You okay?” He mumbles, trying to keep a low profile from the nurse. You can only nod, comforted in the way your…rival…was now holding your hand so preciously. 

“Now…” The nurse begins. “I wanted to check with you both, you mentioned wanting to find out the gender of your child.” Her question is directed towards you, Max’s eyes darting between the two women in the room. “Of course, if dad doesn’t want to know, he can leave-“

“Oh, no.” Max interrupts, mind racing at a thousand thoughts per minute. “I’d…I want to know too.” He agrees, nodding in synch with you. 

“Well, congratulations. You’re having a beautiful baby girl.” The nurse confirms, turning around the screen to you both. The undefinable shape you had seen mere weeks ago had developed, becoming a more shaped being. You could see the baby forming, eyes widening in shock. Your eyes glanced over to Max, his grip tightening on your palm. 

You didn’t miss the glossed tears in his eyes. He knew in that very moment that this baby, this moment was…everything to him. 

2nd May, 158 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

Overnight, Max Verstappen had truly wiggled his way into your inner circle. The two of you had barely said ten civilised words to one another since meeting all those years ago. Now? There was a string of texts almost every morning, asking how you were feeling, to let him know if you needed anything. You had truly begun to push the limits of his patience. The man had showed up your doorstep one morning with a bag of cinnamon pretzels after hearing your cries down the telephone line. 

Right now, the two of you were basking in the bliss of your little bundle of joy; there were still a lot of heavy conversations to come, but the first wave of nerves had passed, you were now simply excited to meet the little being growing in your stomach. 

The two of you had developed a successful co-parenting system to work your way through the pregnancy; Max had engrossed himself in endless copies of baby books. Daniel had found him one afternoon in his driving room, highlighting a textbook on what the main causes of a baby crying could be. He’d started to keep a calendar of every appointment that he’d attend alongside you, notes on the dates that you’re feeling a particular sickness or swelling. If you won’t bring it up with a doctor, he would. 

Max tries to convince himself it’s to keep his baby safe; of course, you need to remain healthy too, but he doesn’t care about you, not in that sense. 

It isn’t until he receives a phone call from you one afternoon, pleading for him to come and collect you from a friend’s house; your car had broken down and your Uber application wouldn’t seem to find you a driver that wasn’t half an hour away. Max had shown up at the doorstep ten minutes later, knocking on the door to signal your arrival. When there was no answer, he took his own incitive to investigate the back garden, hearing the light sound of music, chattering adults and giggling children. 

The garden is in full swing; you hadn’t mentioned it was a party; an extravagant one at that. He’s taken aback by the decorations, a giant bounce house and the most enormous birthday cake he had ever seen. 

His heart almost stops when he sees you.

You, hair framing your face beautifully, a pale pink dress hugging you in the most delicious way. Your attention is focused to the toddler on your hip, your godson. How on earth could you think you were not ready for this? You pulled faces at the young being his giggles screaming through the air. Max had always thought you were pretty, but now he could only see you as a goddess.

He’s convinced himself, after all. He doesn’t care for you. He worships you. 

9th June, 196 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

“I think we should move in together.” 

Max’s attention is drawn up from his phone. Christian and himself had been texting backwards and forwards for the past few days; the driver was trying to rework his schedule so he could at least be with you for a week after the birth. It was getting closer; the world now knew of your pregnancy, the media torn between harsh critics and positive glows. 

What they didn’t know was the father of the child was your sworn enemy. 

Maybe, enemy was a word you didn’t wish to use anymore. A friend didn’t seem right, either. A mix of late-night conversations, spooning ice cream to one another whilst binging a new Netflix series and picking out a bundle of pink pyjamas had drawn the two of you into an undefinable relationship. 

“You know…” You continue. “I want…her to have both her parents about. I don’t want her to grow up in a broken household.” It was true; you’d seen how it could affect people, especially the man who was sat by your side. He understood, completely and utterly. After what he had been through, he wouldn’t wish that on anybody, least of all his own flesh and blood. His own baby. 

“I missed my mother…a lot when I was younger.” He referenced his parents’ separation, how he had barely seen his mother and sister whilst growing up. “I wouldn’t want that for her.” Max rests a hand on your stomach, a soft smile on his face when he looks at you. Even with no makeup, a hoodie which was way too big for you, you were still positively glowing. “Why don’t we have a look tomorrow? Find somewhere around here with enough space for us all.” 

You nod in agreement. “That’s fine, but you’re painting the nursery.” You mumble in response. A small laugh emits from both of your lips. However, yours is soon replaced with a sharp wince, a rumble in your stomach. Max, whom still had a hand resting on the bump immediately stops laughing, both of your eye’s meeting in shock.

“Was that-” He cuts himself off when he feels the movement again. It’s a kick. The baby is kicking. 

“She’s awake!” You laugh, placing your hand carefully across Max’s. You gently guide it across your stomach, tracing the sharp movement in your stomach. “We must have woken her up. Sorry sweet pea.” You direct the last part of your sentence to the baby in your stomach. 

Max gently removes his hand from your stomach, his head tiling closer to your bump. The baby can hear him. She’s in there, nestled and warm, awaiting her welcome into the world. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He mumbles, voice thick from holding back heavy tears. “It’s your Papa.”

He doesn’t miss the small laugh from you, entirely entertained by this whole situation.

“I know I can’t see you yet, but you’re the most beautiful girl I could ever ask for. Just like your mother.” He finishes, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your stomach. Softly, he lifts himself up, pressing a kiss to your temple, heads resting gently against one another as the next episode of your series began to play. 

29th June, 216 days after what should have been the happiest day of your life. 

Spa-Francorchamps was the last race on the calendar before the summer break. It was also the last time you would be able to be in the paddock without a baby strapped to your side.

It had been magical, when walking into the Mercedes garage. Cheers had erupted upon seeing their golden girl return to the paddock. Lewis had barely been able to contain himself, pulling you into the tightest hug which could be imagined. Toto had almost started crying, kissing the top of your head and resting a hand on your stomach, declaring the baby as his unborn prodigy. 

There had been no end of drivers coming to meet you, too. Charles and Carlos had declared how much they had missed having you around, presenting you with a baby blanket and beanie. Your heart had ­melted when they explained their mothers had taught them how to knit, both wanting to make a present for you, stitched with love. You’d almost started crying, hormones were in full swing in the third trimester, kissing both on the cheek and thanking them endlessly. 

Yuki had walked up to you that afternoon too, presenting a small Tupperware box. He had noticed you’d completely rejected fish, and most of all sushi, so instead had made you a batch which was pregnancy safe. The two of you had tried a piece there and then, declaring it as quite possibly the best thing your tastebuds had found since pregnancy had altered your tastebuds. 

Daniel had come to find you, telling you to meet him in his garage, that he had a surprise for you both. Both, meaning you’d probably have to find Max, too. 

His garage was only a short walk from where you’d been set up in the Mercedes camp. You’d began to make your way over there, hoping you’d bump into the father of your child on the way. You’d last seen Max that morning, having driven you to the paddock himself. He’d become…fiercely caring since the evening of feeling the baby kick. He’d slept in your bed that night, you are resting against his chest, a form of comfort in the third trimester. 

What you hadn’t expected to see, as you turned the corner, was a beautiful girl, hands resting on Max’s waist, her eyes sparkling, lips moving. You couldn’t see Max’s face, his cap hiding any expression, but your heart knew that he’d be smirking, basking in the attention.

Loving the attention of a beautiful girl, one that wasn’t pregnant with his child.

You couldn’t…understand why you had suddenly cared so much about who he was interacting with. When you’d first started this whole…adventure, he’d still been seen in clubs, leaving with different women on his arm every weekend. You’d hit the second trimester; his party and escapades had stopped, his sole attention of women being on you.

Maybe that was it. You’d grown to like the attention of Max. Whether it was as the father of your child or…something else. 

Your hormones were truly beginning to overtake you, feeling tears trickling out of your water line. You had to look away at that moment, you couldn’t keep looking at the events unfolding in front of you. Your mind traces back to that morning in Christian Horner’s office, how Max had turned pale, not wanting to be burdened with the birth of his child. 

‘I’m- I’m not ready to be a father.’

Maybe he wasn’t. But you were ready to be a mother. 

8th August, 255 days since what should have been the- 

You couldn’t handle this.

The pain was beginning to seethe through your stomach. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it was all wrong, it was happening too quickly. 

Since the incident at the paddock, you’d been radio silent towards Max. He wasn’t too sure of ­how it had come to be. All he had known was you’d taken yourself home from Spa, telling him that you’d needed to fly home to be with your parents before the birth.

 One day without a phone call was okay, he suspected it would be due to the time zones. Two was…a little odd. After three, he was frantically packing a suitcase, trying to get hold of anybody who would possibly know your parents’ address. He’d resulted to finding your teammates phone number. After he was met with a string of questions, asking how on earth he had gotten hold of his phone number. When Max had explained you had gone off the grid, Lewis had simply scoffed.

Of course, Lewis had known what had happened. He’d seen you return to grab your bag, eyes glassy as you offered the team a quick goodbye, promising to bring the baby to meet them all as soon as possible. 

The driver had been the one to guide you back through the paddock. Despite not racing together for almost six months, he still had your mannerisms sketched into his mind. Eventually, you’d confided in your closest friend, letting the tears fall freely as he guided you back to your Uber, pressing a kiss to your forehead, a silent promise that he would be there if you needed anything, if there were any more thoughts or issues.

He had no issue telling Max his thoughts over the telephone. Despite Max’s answers, there was no excuse. ‘You were hormonal. How did he think you felt when seeing Max with another woman, even if it was innocent, she didn’t seem to be in that stance.’ 

That was the case. It was an ex-girlfriend, she’d been in the paddock that afternoon, seeking out the world champion in an advancement to get them back together. Max had no intention of going there, not when he was during finding something, some gesture to show you of his advancing feelings over the past few months. That was why he had asked Daniel to get you to his garage. He would be able to surprise you, tell you how he was really feeling, how he loved you, and not just for being the mother of his child.

After copious amounts of pleading, Lewis had eventually sent over the address, giving Max a dire warning as to if he upset you again. 

The flight to your home had been fast. He couldn’t thank his assistant enough, getting a hire car set for the moment he stepped out of the airport. However, turning up at your home to find your father, arms folded, and eyebrows raised at Max’s sudden appearance. Your father barely said two words, just told Max you had gone into labour.

Max’s blood had run cold upon that realisation. He wasn’t there; he wasn’t there to hold your hand when the pain started, to hold your hair up and get some coolness to your overheating skin. He wasn’t ­there. Not for his little girl, and not for her mother. Being a Formula One driver in that evening was the most helpful thing in his opinion, arriving at the hospital in record time. 

Car thrown carelessly into a parking spot, he’d sprinted into the reception, a nurse resting a hand on his arm when seeing the pure shock registered on his face. He couldn’t get any words out properly, simply repeating your name, that he was the father of your child. He wanted to see you, he wanted to see his baby. 

The nurse nodded, motioning for Max to follow him down a corridor. He didn’t like the coldness of the building. You probably felt so alone. Every time he had come with you to a clinic appointment, he’d notice the change in your demeanour, how you felt uncomfortable. You should have opted for a home birth; you would have been calmer. Safer. 

Max eventually reached your hospital room, heart breaking at the sounds from the other side of the door. You were in pain. That much was obvious as he opened the door. Your mother wasn’t present. He knew your stubbornness, knowing that you would have wanted to do this without her. Maybe, you’d want to do this without him, too. 

His train of thought was interrupted, hearing a voice he had missed oh-so-much for the past three days. 

“Max.” You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks. The gas wasn’t working, the epidural hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to feel ever piece of this. 

The man sprang into action; in an instant, his jacket was removed, revealing his soft t-shirt and trackpants. A seat was pulled up to the head of your bed, Max sitting himself down, one hand running across the top of your head, the other arm resting by your hands, letting you grip into him as deeply as you needed to. 

“Shh. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” He mumbles. Soft words of Dutch come from his lips; you’re too far gone to understand his words in English, let alone his native language. 

“You- why did you come?” You sob, feeling another contraction wash over your stomach. You can’t help but sob out, overwhelmed by the physical pain of the baby, the emotional pain of Max after seeing him in the paddock with that girl. 

“I couldn’t leave the love of my life to meet our baby girl alone, could I?” He responds, leaning upwards to press a soft kiss to your cheek. He can taste the salt from your tears. He swore there and then, you’d never cry again. Not if he was around. You’d stay with him in the paddock, you and his baby girl. He’d make you laugh at every available opportunity. He’d shower you both in gifts; he’d give his girls everything they’d desire. If one day you decided to return to racing, he’d retire there and then to let you peruse his dream. 

“Okay, okay. We need to push.” The midwife insists, seeing the pain flush over your cheeks. Max is ­there, clasping your hands, running a palm across your cheek, promising that oh-so-soon, your baby girl would be here, she would be in your arms, you would be complete.

There’s a sharp scream from you, and then the tiniest cries from the end of the bed. 

She was here. Bloody, high pitch screams fill the room as the baby is placed onto your chest.

A wave of relief flushes over you, lying back into the cushions, sobbing in hysteria; your baby girl had been welcomed into the world. Max this time, can’t hold back his own tears, aiding the midwife in cutting the chord, eyes in awe as he watched the midwife gently rub a cloth against her soft skin. 

“She’s here.” You whisper, the midwife aiding you in wrapping your daughter in a pink blanket, her wails cooling down, eyes blinking up to her mother. The blue eyes, identical to those of her father. 

Her father in question had sat back in his chair, eyes transfixed on the bundle in your arms. What he isn’t expecting is for you to motion your own arms towards him, letting the man cradle his daughter. It’s so…natural. Your heart fills with adoration; how you could ever believe you hated this man was beyond you.

Eventually, the baby is placed into the cradle, deep in slumber. Max hasn’t moved from your side, one arm around your back, both of you transfixed onto the peacefully sleeping child. 

“She’s here.” Max repeats for the hundredth time, eyes still focused on the sweet girl. His head turns to you, there’s no better time to say it. “I’m sorry. For not telling you sooner. For not telling you how much I care about you.” He murmurs, hand finding yours, clasping them together. 

“Yeah?” You tease, running your free hand through his soft hair, feeling his head press into your touch. His touch subsides, leaning in ever so gently, pressing his lips to your own. It’s soft, it’s unexpected, but it feels so, so right. It’s only interrupted with the soft cries from your baby once again. 

“Is this what it’s going to be like from now on?” Max laughs, his moment being disrupted by the baby. You can only laugh as he stands up, scooping up the baby into his gentle grasp. 

9th August, 1:06am. This was the happiest day of your life. 

#F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Max Verstappen #MV1 #MV33 #Max Verstappen x Reader #Max Verstappen Imagine #Max Verstappen One Shot #Reader Insert #Reader x Max #Formula 1 Imagine #F1 Imagine #Red Bull #Ferrari #Mercedes #Aston Martin #Fantiction #Max Verstappen x You #F1 x Y/N #F1 Fandom #Max Verstappen Fluff #Max Verstappen Smut #Charles Leclerc #Daniel Ricciardo #Lewis Hamilton #Toto Wolff

[mattslutt]

fuck it

c.sturniolo

cw: smut, kinda intense???, praising, swearing, pet names, domishsubish!chris, fem!reader, oral, fake dating trope.

short summary: practising kissing with chris sturniolo who’s your fake boyfriend but he pulls away due to him getting hard and things get a little heated.

Me and Chris were sitting in his bedroom, just talking on a Friday night after school. Both of us were sitting on his bed, listening to music and admiring the sky while looking through the window.

“Another successful week at school pretending that we’re dating, cheers to that”.

“Yeah”, Chris shrugged.

I looked at him and he was unusually quiet. So I decided to play with him, I knew it wasn’t the best idea and I knew it could lead to something else but I gave in.

“Wanna practise kissing?”.

“What?”, he looked at me immediately.

“You heard me”.

“Piss off, you know damn well how to kiss”.

“Yeah, but not as good as you.”

Chris looked at me, I couldn’t read the expression on his face, it was just off. But he sighed and leaned in. The kiss was sloppy and intense, he wrapped his hand around my waist pulled me in closer as my hands were playing with his jeans loops, pulling him closer to me. He groaned into the kiss and then he suddenly pulled away and stood up from the bed.

“What?”, I was caught off guard.

He just stood there, next to his table, fidgeting something, I couldn’t see.

“Chris. What was that?”.

“Nothing”, he said coldly.

“You never pull away from our make out sessions”.

“Guess I do, since now”.

I sighed as I tried communicating with him.

“Could you just tell me what’s wrong? What’s on your mind?”.

Suddenly he dropped the thing he had in his hand on the table.

He turned to look at me and suddenly he smashed his lips onto mine, putting his hands on my face. It was a hungry kiss, he never kissed me like that. His hands were travelling down my body, the kiss kept getting more and more intense. He kept pulling me closer to him. He shortly pulled away to take off his shirt and immediately leaned in to kiss me again. My hands narrowed down his perfectly fit body. Chris softly whimpered into the kiss, his hands slowly sliding under your shirt.

“Chris…”, I softly whispered.

“Yeah?”, he replied with a husky voice, our faces were touching and the eye contact was so intense that it made me weak in the knees.

“You do realise this complete ruins everything that has been happening between us?”

“Fuck it”, he whispered and leaned in to kiss me again. I gave in cuz I have been having real feelings for him, for a while but if we’re being more specific - ever since we stated this whole fake dating thing. I knew it was messy but a mess is happening right now anyways.

Chris softly took me into his arms and placed me onto the bed. His fingers trailed around my top straps.

“May I?”

I nodded in approval letting him take off my top. He slowly took off my top and then leaned in to place kisses all over my neck. He unclipped my bra and started to suck on my nipples. I closed my eyes as I breathed out heavily.

“You like this baby?”, Chris whispered.

“Mhm”.

He smirked as he slowly started to take off my shorts. I opened my eyes to look at him.

“Shhhh. Lay down and close your eyes for me, okay?”.

I did what he said. I felt the shorts disappear off of my skin as my thong was being taken off. I felt his warm breath between my thighs. I felt him spreading my legs and his warm lips brushing against my wet cunt.

“Please..”, I whined out.

“Patience baby, patience”.

Chris teased me by kissing my inner thighs as he slowly reached the spot i was desperately waiting for to be touched. He licked around in circles, low whimpers escaping my lips giving him a sign to keep going. He buried himself into my aching pussy, holding my legs steady in place, not letting me move them. Louder moans were escaping my mouth.

“Fuck”.

I tried moving my legs cuz they were already trembling but Chris squeezed them harder, not letting me move at all as well as he moved his tongue faster.

“Chris, fuuck”, I threw my head back, breathing heavily, feeling my near climax. Suddenly I felt Chris’s fingers inside me, he was pumping them in and out fast for more pressure. My legs trembled as I thrusted my hips a bit, Chris held my legs and squeezed them harder. I whined and felt my climax reach, releasing all over Chris’s face. He licked it all over and smirked while looking at me. He leaned it to kiss me.

“You’re so perfect baby”.

His praising made me weak for him. I flipped him over so I would be on top of him. He looked me up and down as he brushed his fingers through my hair.

“Feisty, aren’t we?”.

“Shut up”, I said as I unbuttoned his jeans. I threw them to the side and decided to tease him with his boxers on.

“Wanna tell me what’s going through your mind right now?”, I whispered into his ear.

“Don’t do that”, Chris whined and looked away from me.

“Do what?”, I asked as I turned his face so he would look at me.

“Baby, please”, he demanded, in a whiny tone. I thought that I was strong and wouldn’t fold for him but shit. I was more than wrong. Him demanding, in a whiny tone made me wanna imagine things that would be better left unspoken about. I took of his boxers and placed his cock that was already leaking with pre-cum between my tits. Chris threw his head back as loan groans were escaping his mouth.

I spat on his cock and kept sliding his cock up and down between my tits.

“You like that? Feels good?”, I teased him.

“Shit”, Chris whined out. He looked up at me and placed his hands on my tits.

“You’re so fucking sexy”.

I slapped Chris hands from my tits and began stroking his cock.

“Lay down”.

Chris laid down but his eyes never left you. You spat on his cock again and stroked him again. He was cursing under his breath, breathing heavily.

“Use your mouth baby, pretty please”, Chris whined out again. His whiny voice made me weak. I took his whole shaft into my mouth and began bobbing my head up and down. Chris threw his head back, leaning against his arms.

“You’re so perfect. Such a pretty mouth”, Chris whispered.

I stroked him with both of my arms while bobbing my head.

“Fuckkkk”.

I felt him getting close so I fastened the peace feeling him release in my mouth. I swallowed it all as I got up on the bed next to him. He breathed out and looked at me, I couldn’t read what was racing through his mind.

“Fuck the fake dating thing, I want you”, he grabbed me by the arm and leaned in to kiss me, it was a needy, long, sloppy kiss but I wasn’t complaining. His lips were soft and kissable, I could do this for hours.

“Been waiting for this for way too long”.

____________________________________________

so im pretty much alive but i have no energy to write so bare with this please 🙏🏻🙏🏻

@gamermattsgf @sturnsblunt @sturncrazy @sturniolosstar @westwiing13 @mbbsgf @hoesformatt @plasticferal

#chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #smutty smut smut #smut #fantiction #fanfiction #mattslutt

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny chapter 2

Danny weighed his current options. As a civilians he could just walk away and pretend he never saw anything. But as a doctor with very strong morals, he couldn't leave a man to bleed out in some unsterile alleyway.

He wondered for a brief second how future him would feel about this, probably frustrated, still Danny picked up the very unstable patient and laid him in the backseat secured by seatbelts.

He wanted to take his to a hospital but he knew this patient wouldn't consent even if he could which he couldn't right now because he was unconscious.

Danny decided to respect the vigilante to the best of his ability. After parking the car he scooped up the vigilante bridal style and turned invisible.

He flew up to his apartment and went intangible, making it so he could safely pass through the wall.

As soon as he laid the patient on the floor he realized something needed to be done about his "research", he couldn't let the vigilante see it and start questioning it. So he opted for turning the cork board around.

It was regrettable that he couldn't put the guy on a proper bed but he didn't have one himself so there wasn't much he could do in that regard.

Danny peeled off the blood soaked clothes. He hated it when he had to cut clothes but in this case it was the only way to see the wound better.

It seemed like some kind of jagged weopen had made deep gashes to his abdomen.

He got to work cleaning the wound, despite how much he had bled before the seriousness of the injury seemed to be exaggerated by the mount of blood Danny saw at first glance. It looked completely treatable.

"There seems to be a deep puncture wound near the aorta, thankfully it didn't hit it" Danny muttered to himself.

"There a slight abrasion on the abdomen over the inferior mesenteric but not deep enough to cause any real damage. He would be fine after getting some stitches"

Danny really wanted to do this at the hospital, it would be so much better but he really didn't want to be watched all the time because he knows the vigilantes identity.

Gathering all his courage Danny grabbed his tools. He was hoping the unconscious vigilante wouldn't wake up during this. Danny could administer anesthesia but he was a licensed anesthesiologist. He also didn't have any anesthesia.

Well, most people didn't use anesthesia for stitches anyway, but he didn't have the numbing shots either. The most he could offer of his patients woke up is some pain killers and towel to bite on.

Danny decided to use absorbable sutures, a type of dissolvable stitches.

"Alright now, please don't wake up" Danny pleaded in a whisper.

He began stitching up the wounds. Because he was a vigilante, Danny had a bunch he wouldn't stop just because he was injured, Danny would have to put in extra stitches in case he tears the other ones.

Danny finished and sighed in relief. The man was still asleep.

He picked up the bloody towels and set out a clean shirt pair of clothes for the man. The man's pants were also stained with blood.

Danny left the apartment for a few seconds to get food. He was trying to be polite, he never really had guests so of the man was hungry he wanted to be ready.

Jason opened his eyes slowly. His entire body felt sore. His hand went up to his face only to feel a hard metal. His helmet. He pulled off the helmet and took a big gasp of fresh air.

The helmet must've shut off and stopped ventilating.

Jason scanned the surroundings. It looked like a small apartment, it was almost bare, not even a bed, on fact Jason just realized he woke up on the floor.

Well, at least there was a blanket beneath him. He was restrained on any way he could see, there weren't any visible surveillance devices either.

Jason sat up and felt the wounds to see how bad they were when his hand grazed a bandage. It was tight but comfortable, like a pro.

Jason peeked beneath the wrappings to find stitches.

"Why?" Jason asked himself in bewilderment. Who in their right mind would go through all the trouble.

Jason heard a sound from around the corner of the room he was in. It sounded like the door was opening.

Jason braced himself. Danny walked in carrying two bags, one with two steaks and the other with a case of beer. He didn't make it a habit to drink but he knew that the beer could be an olive branch.

There was just one problem, how would he eat with his helmet on. Maybe Danny could wrap up the food for the vigilante after he is done cooking it so he could eat in peace.

At least that was the plan. Danny almost shrieked when he saw the vague outline of a man's head.

HE TOOK OFF HIS HELMET!

Danny closed his eyes tight and blindly made his way to kitchen tripping in the process.

Jason had been expecting some thug, what he got was this. A healthy man.

He watched as Danny fumbled around trying not to look at Jason's face. He decided enough was enough when he heard a loud 'thump' followed by a silent "fuck~".

Jason put his helmet on and made his way to where Danny was. Danny stood up.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting that" Danny said.

"Who are you?"

Danny didn't answer.

"I'm a doctor"

Jason felt a little frustrated, he was asking for a name.

"Im trying my best to stay out of your way, I only helped you because you were bleeding out in an alleyway and as a doctor I couldn't ignore that"

"And your making food because?"

Danny grew red.

"I'm hungry" Danny said.

"That's a lot of food for one person"

"I figured you would need something to eat, I was going to wrap it up for you"

"No need I'll eat here-"

"NO!"

Jason almost flinched.

"Sorry, I just, if you take off your helmet and I see you, then you'll be watching me so I don't tell anyone who you are. I don't have time for that"

Jason was even more intrigued. This guy acted like he was a vigilante.

"You seem familiar with this kind of stuff"

Danny shook his head.

"No, not really"

Danny started cooking the steaks.

"If you want to take off your helmet you can go to the next room. I'll let you know when the foods done."

"Alright" Jason said numbly before slipping out of the room. The only other room was the one he woke up in and the bathroom. So naturally he started snooping.

Not that there was much to find.

"It's ready!"  Jason bumped into a wall in surprise and knocked a cork board off the wall.

"Shit!" Jason said as he picked it up. He felt something on the other side. Jason flipped it around and laid it on the table.

It seemed like this person was gathering Intel on the biggest crooks in Gotham, he even knew who was "compromised".

"Is that...me?"

There was a picture of Jason that he had never seen before, it was of himself standing on a rooftop.

"I look kinda like Batman" Jason thought for a second.

"I'm coming in" Danny announced. Jason scrambled to put on his helmet but he wasn't able to return the cork board in time.

"Oh no" Danny said setting down the food before he took the cork board he checked it over making sure everything was intact.

"This is just research so I can better understand my patients, It's nothing weird"

Jason put up his hands.

"I don't think it's weird that you have a crock board full of pictures, especially mine. Nope, that not weird"

Danny let out an exhausted laugh.

"Yeah I had to pay for that one, it just reminded me of someone, not that it matters"

"What, did it remind you of Batman?"

"Ha, no. You looked lonely but free, I- know someone who can relate to that"

"Lonely but free" Jason muttered.

"Anyways here" Danny said holding the food out to Jason.

"I hope we never meet again, in a good way"

Jason grinned beneath the helmet.

"I hope we do" he opened the window.

"See you later Doctor" he said waving before leaping gracefully out of the window, food in hand.

"Wait what?" Danny asked.

"Do not!" Danny shouted out the window.

"Do not come back!"

Jason shook his head, there was no way he was going to leave him alone, call it curiosity but Danny wasn't different from most Gothamites.

And he wanted to know more about him. Danny's reluctance to know Jason made him want to get closer even more.

Danny sighed, there was no way he could shake a vigilante off his trail. He just hoped Jason didn't interrupt his work or his research.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #batman #RedHood #dpxdc #crossover #fantiction

[0strawberrysorbet0]

𝐴 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟

𝐻𝑎𝑧𝑏𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑙 𝑥 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑒!𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

This is a series so if you'd like to be tagged simply just comment!

Not too happy with this chapter but hope it's good enough 😕

Please do not use/steal my work on this site or any other! Resposts and likes are appreciated greatly!!

Part one ← Part two → Part three

Summary: When Charlie is called to heaven for a meeting instead of her father she is ecstatic but she meets a boy with some very familiar features..

Warnings: cursing, Adam mentioned, rlly weird layout, idk what else, probs spelling mistakes and weird grammer

Where am I??" Was the only thought coursing through the boy's mind?

He couldn't hear anything but his thoughts, everything else was muffled as if he was underwater, he strolled mindlessly throughout the forest, there were lush plants and exotic flowers of every tone and shape.

He could see birds and insects, things they did not have in his new home...

As he walked forward, it was like he was being pulled, like he didn't control it...

He heard a voice call for him...

"ƙׁׅյׁׅ݊ꪀյׁׅժׁׅ݊ᝯׁׅ֒꯱ dear?? Where-" was all he heard, voice silencing before he heard a yell...

He couldn't make out words but he heard a male's voice shout, who were they shouting for??

As he stumbled through the thicker, darker patch of forest he reached a tree, an apple, sparkling and juicy, shaped like a heart hung from a branch. Just as he went to grab it,

someone clung to the skin on his leg.. Or something.. Biting down on his flesh.. His pale skin turned pink and oozing a cherry-coloured syrup.

As he turned to see the blood dripping he shot up, dripping in a cold sweat as his face whitened.

That dream. Again.

It had been haunting him, it happened every so often but now more than ever. It was always the same.

He wanders, a woman calling for someone and a man screaming then sees the Apple and tries to grab it before being bitten. Then waking up before being able to see the creature.

But what was it?.. He sat up on his bed, grabbed a yellow shoebox from under his bed, he placed it onto his milky white duvet.

He peeled the lid off the box, revealing a little rubber duck... He didn't know where it was from but he had had it for as long as he could remember, there were a few photos of him and his friends... Mainly Emily.

There were a few random things, buttons and feathers, but he finally found what he was looking for, a folded sheet of parchment. He opened it revealing a drawing of the forest, mainly the path he walked and the paths he could see.

He took out the red pen and drew the figure of a woman, shouting... He couldn't see the figure's face or features but he could tell it was a woman.

His father could never see this, nor Sera. They'd think he was plotting against something.. Which he'd never do. He wasn't a monster.

At the bottom of the box was a small gift from Emily, a little box that had been wrapped with gold ribbon. Inside was an apple... An actual real apple.

He hadn't a clue where she got it but it was gorgeous. So shiny and juicy, plump and red, a delicious bloody red...

He had never understood why they were forbidden anyways, yes because of The Fall but surely the fruit wasn't the problem..

He couldn't blame Eve.

He wouldn't have resisted either.

His silence was broken by knocking on his door. "(M/N)? Son? I'm heading off to my meeting, there's some food on the table, take care!"

It was his dad, it was thoughtful of the man to let him know he was leaving but it scared the boy shitless.

He got himself dressed and got to work on his heavenly duties, he strolled through a building, looking for Emily, he had to tell her about his dream.

As he walked past a meeting room he could hear a familiar screeching voice, Adam.

And a voice he hadn't heard before?.. A young girl? Whatever. It wasn't Emily so it didn't matter, he continued to walk until the voice got louder, almost like it was behind him

"Miss?? Excuse me!? You dropped some feathers!!"

Miss? He turned to see the person who had been shouting, it was a girl.

She had red glowing eyes with the sclera being a strong yellow color.

Her hair was the same straw blonde colour as his hair, it was tied up into a strange ponytail, in circular shapes almost, she was wearing a blood-red suit and her cheeks were rosy and pink.

What a strange angel... She didn't even look like an angel...

He just turned and continued to walk, going to find Emily.

..............................................................................................

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven and ruled by beings of Pure light, Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil..." A blonde girl read aloud,

As she flicked through the pages she looked at the part in between the section where Lucifer and Lilith tempted Eve and the banishment.

It was burnt, the small gap, unnoticeable at first glance, but with the number of times she had read it, she could tell someone had burnt out a few pages, burning part of the story...

"Charlie?" Her girlfriend said at the doorframe, an extermination had just happened, she looked out the window at the burning city.

She needed to put a stop to this, these sinners surely didn't deserve it. Well at least some of them.

The day seemed to melt away quickly, they had talked about commercials and... Well they all had some unique ideas...

Her phone started to ring, and she jumped up and went to answer it.

It was her father? Strange... He never called.

But he wanted her to go to heaven instead of him? Holy shit... Maybe she could change heaven's mind after all...

Before she knew it she was there, heaven..

When Charlie arrived she noticed how pristine everything was, light, bright, the place was practically blinded by white light.

She now stood before The Adam, or as he called himself (much to her dismay) The original dick. She had put all the ideas she could (before he'd interrupt) onto the table but they smushed it all.

To sum it up... The meeting went horribly. She had not only been turned down but completely ignored. Her whole life she had believed angels to be kind, caring creatures... There was a reason they made it up there after all.

But she wasn't so sure now. She wasn't so sure about anything anymore.

As she was leaving she saw a pair of wings stroll past the door, they were full and stuck out proudly, glowing a bright white. The feathers looked almost like cotton candy as they surfed the breeze, one or two floating off.

One had dropped at her feet. She picked it up before trying to get a look at the angel, they had long blonde hair, and she presumed it was a woman.

"Miss?? Excuse me!? You dropped some feathers!!" She shouted about the feathers, maybe the angel would need them? Or maybe she just wanted to see the angel's face. She couldn't tell but she felt somewhat connected to the being.

The angel turned gracefully, piercing eyes staring through her, beautiful, beautiful eyes, they were the colour of a rich berry, a beautiful purple, like a flower, soft and delicate. Yet the angel's stare could have ripped her in half by that alone.

Charlie stood there, not making a sound so the angel turned around. Bored with her it walked off through the corridor.

She needed to know who this was and why they looked like her mother.

..............................................................................................

"I still dunno what ya mean by 'she looked like my mother' toots, who are ya even talkin' about again?" Angel replied, pouring himself another drink as Charlie told the spider demon bout the meeting and her encounter with the angel.

"I'm telling you!! She looked just like my mom!" She said, waving a picture of her mother in front of Angel's face.

"Jeez, okay calm! I get it!" He slapped the picture away "Why are ya so bothered though?"

"I don't know. I just felt connected to her.. " she said, petting Keekee, who curled into her lap and purred at the affectionate touch.

"For all you know it might've not even been a girl, just let it go toots" he took a big swing of his drink before pouring another drink.

"I'm telling you I feel connected to them, I... I know they looked like my mother." She sighed.

Hopefully, she'd be able to go up to heaven soon, to win them over and to see that angel again.

Tag list - @demstarno @kenny-619 @bunbunboysworld @lovedesperatevampire

@honey-valentin3 @type-ink

#hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel angel dust #fanfic #hazbin hotel emily #male reader #son!reader #enjoy!! #A Hidden Star #fantiction #x reader

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Busy being yours to fall for somone new

—

GO READ PART ONE NOW‼️‼️‼️‼️

P t 1 here

Pairings - Abby Anderson x fem! Veterinarian reader

AN: I lowkey this reminds me some of Evelyn Hugo’s apology to ciela lmao 😭 (it’s not plagiarized just inspired)

Synopsis- abby can’t live without you (that’s some downbad lesbians shit)

“I don’t have sex with friends”

That’s all that ran through Abby’s mind for the next 4 months.. winter was starting to come to an end, Abby would be lying if she didn’t say she struggled some— that is trying to get over you. The cold bed, the empty apartment when manny was gone, the avoidment in your voice when she talked to you.. everything that she missed loved and more about you, that’s what she struggled to get over.

——

There were the times when you just ignored her -

Abby had walked towards the animal kennels with Alice in tow. The happy dog ran ahead of her and jumped onto your back as you were closing the pasture gates.

You smiled and bent down. “Hey sweetie” you spoke in a baby voice while scratching behind the dogs ear. Abby smiled down at you, she wanted to say something but was to worried about ruining things.

She watched as you stood up and pointed at the clipboard before turning and leaving calling Alice to follow you. Abby rubbed her eyes and sighed, she knew she fucked up but shit did you really have to act like she didn’t even exist.

——

Then the time she was caught by her friends-

“Right and I was thinking what if we watched legally blonde” Nora smiled and held up the CD. The group was currently inside Abby and mannys apartment having yet again another movie night. Yeah Nora and Owen were arguing over which movie but once again abby didn’t care. Hell she didn’t even realize when the group went quiet.

“Abs..” Nora spoke and put a hand on her knee.

“Huh?” She snapped back into the conversation.

“Legally blonde or The hot chick” Nora raised an eyebrow guestering her head towards the tv.

Manny shook his head and leaned into the conversation. “She upset over her breakup” a shared look of confused passed over the group.

“The hell Are You Talking About” Owen asked.

“Manny there is no break up—“ she started but was ultimately innerupted.

“We all could tell Abby” Mel looked over. “What ever was between you and Y/n sure as hell wasnt platonic I mean every-time we saw you two it was like we caught you two about to devour one another” Nora agreed along side manny but Owen remained confused and fustrated as he didn’t understand what they were talking about.

“Also it’s pretty weird that you and her haven’t actually hung out together along like before and rarely in together in the group since you laughed at Mona saying you two were together”

Abby groaned and covered her face with her hand. “Was it that obvious”

Mel shook her head. “Not really, I mean we noticed because were your friends but everyone else wouldn’t of suspected”

She remained quiet and sighed before dragging her hand down her face, her eyes becoming glassy something not common for the solider.

“Let’s Just Watch whatever dumbass movie Owen chose” she wiped her eyes and put her guard up once again.

——

Then lastly.. the time she dreamed about you-

Abby laid in her bed silently dreaming, the only noise being the grinding of her teeth. In her dream you were sitting in her waist.

“Abs what are you doing” you smiled as Abby started to let her hands go under your shirt and press against your stomach.

“Nothin~” she cooed and continued to tease you. Abby looked up at you with that same look she always gave that you knew you couldn’t resist.

“Stop looking at me like that” you laughed, you wore one of Abby’s shirts that while tight on her large on you. You playfully grabbed her chin and tilted your head.

“I have no idea what your talking about” Abby teased and let her hands wander before resting them on your hips. You leaned forward as if to kiss her but the kiss never met before Abby woke up in a cold sweat.

She felt some tears run down her face when she laid back and closed her eyes in defeat. Abby opened her eyes and looked up at the cieling. She reached over and touched the spot on the small mattress you had claimed as your own trying to find some sort of comfort but it was hopeless.

She knew she had no other choice than to go running back to you.

—

At the same time you laid in your empty bed you were messing with a dog tag necklace Abby had given you, the tag had her solider ID in the WLF engraved onto it. You chuckled remembering the time you had tried to give it back but Abby made you keep it since she had another.. you closed your eyes wanting to forget while trying so hard to not cry. You were the one who broke each-other up so Why the hell were you so hurt.

You knew you weren’t over her, I mean you were wearing her shirt as a nightgown still. Deep in thought, it was soon innerupted with a hard nock at your door. You raised an eyebrow at who would be here at 2am.

The door opened and you saw Abby standing in all her glory. Hair down, sweatpants and her sports bra with her muscles on full display.. a combo that use to and still does make you go weak.

“What” You yawned trying to act un-phased seeing her.

“Please can we talk—“

“Go back to your place Abigail” You stopped her and gave her a dirty look. You tried to shut your door but once again abby stopped you, you swore you hated and loved how strong she was. She walked in the apartment and closed the door.

Abby grabbed your arms and got down on her knees. Your eyes widened and you looked around embarrassed. “I. Love. You.” She sternly spoke. “Please.. let me love you right this time like I know I can” she begged and pressed your hands to her forehead. You were quiet. “I don’t care what anyone else has to say.. I don’t give a shit if the entire WLF hates me just as long as you are with me”

“You Need to go Abby I’m serious” you tried to pull your hands away. But Abby persisted she looked up.

“I know I know but please—“

“It’s late.. I’m tired.. it’s 2am and I really don’t wanna deal with your bullshit”

You turned your face away trying to show some kind of strength, You pulled your hands away and stepped back looking down waiting for Abby to leave.

She didn’t leave however.. Abby stood up and walked to you cupping your face, she rested her head against yours and after some silence she spoke. “I will never stop loving you..” that was all she said before leaving the apartment.

A week passed-

You found yourself hanging out at a watering hole in a QZ near by. Some soliders had decided to have a bond-fire, you of-course managed to be dragged by your friends.

You had your hair pulled back and you wore a simple black bikini. You knew you were hot and you also knew there were a few men’s eyes on you.

You had also seen Abby slightly, her gaze transfixed onto you. Part of you wanted to go up to her but the other part told you not to, starting shit up with her would only end up in you hurt again.

—

You walked out the water with Leah following you. You laughed with the girl enjoying spending time with your friend when you felt a harsh smack on your ass.

“Hey there cutie” John a cocky solider stood behind you grinning sadisticly. You cringed at seeing him.

“What the fuck dude” Leah scoffed and tried to move you towards her but John grabbed your arm and pulled you into him.

“John let me go” you complained trying to push him away.

“Nah sweetheart I’m happy with you right here” he grinned and leaned his head down. You tilted your head back still uncomfortable.

“We got a problem” Abby stood at The shore with her strong arms crossed. You admired her simple yet attractive outfit of a black wife beater and dark green cargo pants.

“Nah Anderson we’re just fine you can go” John spoke defensively, still holding onto you right. A few people started to crowd around wondering what would happen.

“Oh yeah?” Abby spoke sarcastically walking more towards the water til she was closer to John and you. “Cause it fucking seems your forcing my girlfriend to feel your hard on”

John rolled his eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding” he grinned but his smile fell and his grip on you tightened. “Are you talking about that dumbass rumor Mona said some months back about you two fucking around- that was true” he scoffed.. You pushed him away and stumbled back into Abby.

She protectively wrapped an arm around your waist. “Yeah is that an issue” she started her stance getting more aggravated.

“I mean shit Abby.. i knew you looked like a fag but never expected you to actually be one” he scoffed with a sarcastic smile. “Besides we both know all Y/n needs is a man.. and I mean a real man not sone woman who thinks she tough just because she’s got some muscles”

“Really? Why don’t you come over here then and i can show you how much of a man I really am” Abby’s stance got more defensive all while her tone remained eerily calm. Some guys grabbed john and yelled at him pulling him away from Abby, they were stupid but not stupid enough to not know that someone would get hurt and it certainly wouldn’t be the woman they described as an ox.

Once they and the crowd that started to build left Abby grabbed your face- her entire demeanor changed. “Are You ok.. what else did he do did he—“

“No no” you shook your head and started to softly breath once again. You gently placed your hands ontop of hers which still had your face in her grasp and looked up at her. “Girlfriend?” You asked with a confused chuckle. “I thought.. I thought you didn’t want anyone else to know about you being…”

Abby blushed and nodded. “Y/n i told you i don’t care what anyone else thinks anymore, I want to love you proudly and openly.. I wasn’t lying that night i showed up to your place, I would give up everything for you” you pondered for a moment still deciding what to do before grabbing her face and kissing her softly yet passionately pouring all your emotion into it.

“I actually hate you” you chuckled and smiled at her gently while she grabbed your hips.

“Yeah I know” she grinned and kissed your forehead with a sigh of relief, You two were gonna be ok.. and you knew that, deep down you always knew that

Hope you enjoyed thank you for all the love on pt 1 😭💗💗💗💗

@4rt3m1ss @redwlf843 @macaroni676 @azxulaa

#Spotify #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #lesbian #wlw #fantiction

[wherewritersgotodie-blog]

Workin’ Hands (pt. 1) (Kit Walker x reader)

Pt. 1, Pt. 1.5, Pt. 2

can you resist the town player asking you out on a date after finding you on a lonely street late at night?

warnings: player!kit. smoking. misogyny?

Massachusetts, 1962

“Got a light, gorgeous?” you hear a voice out from the darkness behind you. You jump, turning to face the source.

Kit Walker. Town playboy. Gorgeous, but a total rascal. A dog, you heard.

“Yes,” you nod, taking a lighter out from your small handbag.

You’re stuck on the side of the road, car broken down, the hood popped, not that you knew anything about how you’d even begin to fix it.

You flick the lighter and he raises his eyebrow, smirking. He leans into the fire, putting the end of his cigarette to it, breathing. “Thank you, miss.” He pauses, tilting his head to the side. “Car gone bust?” he says, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Yeah, and I don’t have the slightest clue how ta’ fix it,” you sigh, looking at it, tilting your head as well.

He walked to the car, leaving his cigarette in his mouth as he talks. “This is why women shouldn’t be driving,” he says, smiling.

“Oh, really? Only women’s cars break down?” you check him.

“No, but you haven’t got the mind to fix it up, I’m sure,” he affirms, leaning over the hood.

“Girls are every bit as capable as boys, it’s just that no one bothers to teach us,” you cross your arms, looking at him. He turns around, walking to you.

“Show me your hands,” he smiles.

“Why?” you ask him, turning your head to the side slightly.

“I’m checkin’ somethin’, sweetheart,” he smirks.

You put your hands out. He uses his hands to turn them over facing up, then looks at your palms.

“Honey, these ain’t workin’ hands,” he says, running his fingers over the inside of your hand. “Feel mine,” he presses the end of his fingers against yours, rubbing them back and forth, “They’re all calloused so I can work with my hands. But your hands… your hands are soft as a daisy,” he says, running the back of his fingers over your palm to emphasize his point. “They’re for girls’ things. Ain’t no offense meant, it’s just true.”

You stay silent, looking up at him. He’s satisfied by this. He walks back to the car, then sits in the drivers seat. He gets out, looks at you as he shuts the door, and says, “Aww, darling,” he speaks like you’re a child, “The second brake was on, sugar.”

You blush, feeling foolish for not noticing your car had been fine, you simply pushed a wrong button.

“Aw, it’s alright, sweetheart, you couldn’t’a known,” he says with a condescending tone.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Alright, well, thank you very much, sir,” you say, shaking his hand.

He shakes it firmly, then smiles, “Your hands are softer than most, I’d say.”

“Is that so?” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods. “You’re a lovely thing, you know? You shouldn’t be out here alone so late at night.”

“Well, Gosh, I didn’t mean to, but I was working late and then,” you shake your head, “Well, you know the rest.”

He smiles, “I do.”

“Alright, well, have a good night,” you attempt to end the conversation again.

“I’m Kit. Kit Walker,” he says, stepping to the side so he was in line with your feet again.

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you say.

“Hm. Lovely name for a lovely girl,” he smiles, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “(Y/L/N),” he reflects, “Oh, yeah, Mr. (Y/L/N), he comes into the shop sometimes.”

“Oh, my, please don’t tell my father you saw me out here,” you beg him, panicking.

“Woah, woah, I’m not tellin’ anybody anything,” he put his hands up. “Why, your dad strict or something?”

“Oh, very,” you respond.

“Oh yeah? How so?” he walks closer to you, crowding your space slightly.

“Well, I ain’t supposed to talk to boys, first of all,” you say quietly, looking away from him.

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, putting a toothpick from his pocket between his teeth. “So you can’t date?” he smirks.

“You’re not being very appropriate,” I respond.

“Hey! I’m not askin’ for any reason, I’m just wonderin’,” he smiles.

“No, I can’t date.”

“Well, that’s a shame, I would have asked you out,” he rolls the toothpick around with his tongue.

‘Just wonderin’.’ You shake your head. “I’ve heard things about you, Kit Walker,” you shake your head, almost scolding him.

“Like what, sugar?” he smirks.

“That you hang around lots of girls,” you retort.

“Well, I don’t date none of ‘em,” he says. “I’d take you out, I’d make you my girlfriend. Easy.”

“Right,” you say, walking to your car door.

He runs up behind you, cornering you against the car. “C’mon, you owe me! Just one date, then you never have to see me again,” he smiles.

“Alright, fine. One,” you say. “And it stays between you and me,” you nod once.

“You got it, sugar.”

They’re so easy.

#kit walker #evan peters x reader #evan peters #kit walker ahs #ahs #american horror story #ahs asylum #american horror story asylum #kit walker asylum #kit walker x reader #tate langdon #kai anderson #fantiction #evan peters fanfic

[hppjmxrgosg]

when you find a fic to read with an interesting concept and all the characters you want and all the right tags but it's formatted badly

#ao3 #fantiction #fanfic #PLEASE I BEG YOU #the big block of text i cant #why is it on the right side of the page #please free me

[cutepastelstarsalior]

Got bored so here some alenoah fanfiction memes

Fanfiction mention are (all on ao3)

Slippery Slopes by courtney-deserved-better

Dig a mace into his chest and a shotgun into mine by WriterQuil

A bit of time by seas1de

An insulting indifference by drowzeee

Curl up like a bug by honeyhoneypot

High off vertigo (where you’re close) by lonleybrachiobrute

I would add more memes, or fanfics, but I can’t think of any atm. (Send me some fanfic and I can make more memes if anyone wants some)

#fandom #memes #alenoah #td alejandro #td noah #total drama #alejandro burromuerto #fanfic #fantiction #fanfic meme

[prettyboybillyhargrove]

I really need this to happen. Is there one?

#twt #twitter text #textposts #ao3 #writing references #writing #fanfiction writer #fantiction #txt #txt post #harringrove #i wish i was good at this

[i-hope-we-both-die666]

made a bingo sheet for my species of weird kid

#weird kid #art #dyed hair #2020 alt #alternative fashion #alternative #emo #emocore #grunge #punk rock #fnaf #demonias #horror movies #chucky #it (2017) #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #georgie denbrough #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #stan uris #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #kandi kid #fantiction #ao3 #wattpad #fanfic writing #ahs murder house #tate langdon

[beaboep]

I read this amazing fanfic recently called AVA by @inyahs

It’s really funny and I highly recommend it. It’s based in the Undertale Multiverse !! My fav

#undertale #deltarune #drawing #fanart #new artist #self taught artist #tumblr art #artists on tumblr #sans #sans undertale #utmv sans #utmv #fantiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #tumblr fyp #fyp #undertale art #traditional art #art

[seobstarr]

ON THE COURT— 015: WOAH.

-

-

His body struggles to move through the crowd of bodies as he makes his way to her, constantly trying to squeeze between people. “Found you!” He chuckles, taking a deep breath from all of the pushing and shoving.

“And you wanted me to dance…” She scoffs playful as the red cup lifts to her lips, Theo’s body leans swiftly over the countertop they both rested against, his forearm grazing against hers.

After a couple of minutes of painful silence his eyes dart to the ping pong table, where their classmates were. “Do you wanna go play?” He nudges her slightly to catch her attention and her head whips to focus on the activity he pointed at.

“Beer pong?” Her voice questioned

“Yeah, it could be fun!” He hoped to god she didn’t reject him, considering how all she’s been doing was sitting and observing everyone at the party

“Hmm, sure why not” Theo sighs in relief when she agrees to the offer with a light shrug and smiles, his hand interlocking with hers (making sure he didn’t touch the still wrapped one from the coffee incident) and leading her through the crowd.

Her body tensed as he gently guides her through the crowded living space, his hand tightening when it was too hard to push through the bodies. The blood rushes to her cheeks and her smile starts to become more prominent.

“Hey, Theo! Was wondering where you were” Keeho, who had just got done missing his turn, swung his arm around Theo in a childish gesture.

“Had to do something first, my bad.”His eyes dart down to the locked fingers between the both of you then goes back up to link with Theo’s nervous eyes “Hm, I see now…:

“Manager” Keeho smiles

“Hey, Kyo!” Y/n fastly waves back with her free hand

“Are you guys here to play?”

“Yeah, thought we could give it a try” Y/n says again and Theo nods.

“Cool, we just finished this round so you guys get next. Y/n, you’re on Sumin’s team. Theo, you’re on mine,” Keeho explains and Y/n quickly unlocks her hand from Theo’s grasp to walk over to the right side of the table.

“Y/n, right?” Sumin points.

“Yeah! You must be Sumin?” She nods from the introduction.

“Yup, glad to meet you! I think we have a class together, no?”

Y/n’s brain racks at the thought of her, at any familiar feeling “Introduction to Philosophy?” She questions back, the lightbulb in her head brimming with inquiry

“Yes! You sit in front of me most of the time!”

“Right, it’s good to see you!” Y/n says back, giggling a little. “These are my friends! They’ll be on our team.” she nods in solidarity as Sumin hands her a ping pong ball.

prev | m.list | next

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tags🍰: @inthesunnn @captivq @nini-04 @hopeless-romantic-mentality @222brainrot @therealbobbyshloby @miyukisv @jilxe

(pink couldn’t be tagged)

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keb notes!: BYE IM SORRY FOR SLOW UPDATES LOLLL IM SORRY YOU GUYS HAVE TO WAIT SO LONG FOR CHAPTERS

:( but senior year is NO joke (i’ve been watching one piece instead of working, i made it to timeskip :p) but i promise things will pick up from here 🫡 alsoooo after this i think i wanna make a sequel with riize, smth ab sungchan since i made him bitchless in this smau😭 AND AND AND proud to say that riize and stayc WILL be main characters in this story starting from here on out !!!

#kpop #p1harmony #kpop imagines #p1harmony fanfic #p1h fluff #p1h theo #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony intak #p1harmony jiung #p1harmony keeho #p1harmony soul #p1harmony jongseob #p1ece #kpop group #fantiction

[mattslutt]

QUIET

m.sturniolo

contains: smutish, pet names, oral!female.

short summary: at the party with your best friend matt who you thought was like a brother to you things led into something unexpected

The air was filled with loud music ringing in my ears, people surrounding me from every angle, everybody’s dancing, drinking, having fun. I was lost in the sounds of music, dancing my heart out, swaying my hips, feeling like the main character. Matt was behind me, looking at me how I was dancing. I didn’t even notice, I forgot for a few minutes that he was there.

The music stopped and my favourite song started playing which was ‘’my love by route 94”, i immediately threw my hands around Matt.

“My favourite song playing in my favourite club on a summer night. This feels like a movie”.

“Yeah”, Matt replied.

I didn’t even bother to care that his reply was dry, I immediately started dancing, turning around so he’s facing my back again. I felt his hands slowly placing on my hips. I felt a knock full of butterflies in my stomach. I tried to hide my smile but it was impossible. He also rested his head on my shoulder so I obviously had a very visible reaction that he’s giving me butterflies.

When the chorus beat dropped both of us got lost in the music, moving our hips to the music, his hands slowly reaching my waist. I turned to face him, the tension in the eye contact that was going on right now was almost impossible to handle. He just looked at me, continued to dance but his eyes were telling me something. I looked at his lips for a few seconds and looked up to his eyes again.

He grabbed my arm slowly and dragged me into the nearest bathroom, as i walked in i didn’t turn to face him because for some reason i was nervous. As he closed the door behind us he softly turned me around so I would face him and pulled me close to him by putting his hands on hips.

“What are you doing?”, I whispered.

The music was playing so loudly that you are still able to hear it in the bathroom.

“My mind is filled with you, I can’t think of anything else”, Matt whispered back.

I got a pinch feeling in my throat, like it was blocked. I didn’t know what was happening, why was I suddenly feeling something for him. He’s always been like a best friend, like a brother to me. Or maybe I was just trying to think like that so I wouldn’t get with him but the truth was that I wanted him so badly but I was scared he didn’t see me like that.

“Well get me out of your mind”, I whispered.

“I don’t want to”, Matt said this as he placed his hand on my chin as he lifted my head up a bit. His touch was sending me shivers through my whole body. He leaned in a bit closer, our lips only an inch apart.

“You that this will ruin everything”, I whispered while closing my eyes.

“I’m up for challenges”, Matt replied as he leaned in to kiss me.

Fucking hell.

His lips were so kissable that I could just drown in the feeling of them. It was a very needy kiss. His hands were trailing down around my panties. Matt pulled away from the kiss and got on his knees.

He looked up at me and slowly took of my panties.

“Will you be quiet for me?”, Matt whispered.

I nodded and rested my head on the bathroom door stall.

He lowered himself a little bit more before pressing his lips on my already wet clit.

I bit my lips down so my whimpers wouldn’t be too loud. I thrusted my hips a bit and I felt Matt holding my legs, he grabbed one of them and threw it onto his shoulder so he would have more access. He slowly pushed two of his fingers inside me and fastened the peace..

“Fuck Matt, someone’s gonna walk in and see us”, I spoke quietly with whimpers.

He didn’t even reply, he fastened the peace even more, I threw my head back and gasped while digging my nails into his hair and pushing my hips into his mouth. I felt my climax approach. I released all over his face, him absolutely licking everything off. Matt looked up at me and stood up, he was grinning and smirking. A small smirk formed onto my face as Matt grabbed me by my arm and leaned me closer to him as he leaned against a bathroom commode.

Both of us were just looking at each other as our hands were on each others chests.

“Felt kinda crazy knowing I had to hide how I feel for almost two years”, Matt broke the silence by saying this.

“Two years?”, my jaw dropped cuz i never in a million years would have thought that a guy like him would see me that way.

“Yes silly, two years”, he chuckled as he petted my nose.

“You’re insane Matthew”.

“Yeah, only you are able to make me feel this way”, he smiled as he said this and leaned in to kiss me again.

____________________________________________

short cuz i have no energy sorry guys 😞. thank you sososososo much for 711 you guys are so supportive i love you all sm💗.

taglist: @hoesformatt @sturncrazy @sturnsblunt @plasticferal @mbbsgf @westwiing13 @lacysturniolo @gamermattsgf @goandcomebsck

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fantiction #fanfic #smutty smut smut #smut #Spotify #sturniolo smut #mattslutt

[sleepysock13]

I wanna be so fr there is smut right at the beginning of the next chapter 💀

Update: February 9th!

#bowser x luigi #bowser #bowuigi #archive of our own #soulmate au #fanfic #fanfiction #luigi #luigi my beloved #super mario bros #smut #bowuigi smut #interspecies romance #fantiction #chapter update

[starchaserdreams]

I live close to the end of the world and I generally post fanfiction at the end of the day here, when 90% of the English speaking world is asleep. I have recognized that it isn't the best time of day to post, but I'm trying to figure out how much earlier I should shoot for.

Also I love testing theories. I've always had the sense that the majority of this fandom is in Europe, with Eastern North America being the next region after that. I'm very curious if that is correct!

#marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #polls #please share #marauders fanfiction #fantiction #ao3 #archive of our own #jegulus #wolfstar #prongsfoot #bambibelle

[rand0mfangurlstuff]

I really don't understand why some people on this app have to insist all their favourite characters are gay? When they're clearly not? Like everyone is like Buck and Bucky in MOTA are secretly in love when obviously that's not the way the story is going?

Nothing wrong with writing fanfic where you see yourself with the character, and if that means making the character lgbtq then fine. But why do people insist two characters who clearly aren't gay are ?

It was the same with Regina and Emma in OUAT. And pretty much every fandom I've ever been a part of. And its not even just in fanfic people make out like the characters really are in love when they aren't.

#ouat #emma swan #mastors of the air #callum turner #john egan #regina mills #buck cleven #fandoms #fantiction #Masters of the air fan fiction