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macfrog · 4 months

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sweet child o' mine | pt. ii

hi. this is max's lawyer speaking. please don't get mad at her for this part. she asked me to let you know that she loves you all and hopes that you trust her. sincerely, jimmy mcgill

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you're pregnant with joel miller's kid. he's dating someone else. you deal with it.

warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy stuff like nausea (none of the v word, y'all are safe with me), ultrasound scene set in a hospital, anxiety and guilt surrounding pregnancy, description of body change/growth, brief and i mean brief discussion of abortion, joel is dating someone who isn't reader, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), reader has no physical description save for hair, cursing, genderless use of buddy when referring to baby, joel kisses someone who is not his partner, mention of alcohol, disturbing & semi-graphic nightmare about being involved in car accident, reader has a panic attack, discussion of dead parents, fluff and the beginnings of angst DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there's ever anything you feel i've missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 9.2k

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

“I know, I know,” Joel holds a palm up, “it’s nine thirty. I know. But I had to lug all this wood over here, and it – You okay?”

You realize when he pauses that you’re gaping at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place behind your front door. Your jaw hinges shut, a gulp like carpet burn down your throat. You didn’t hear a word he just said.

How does he know? He can’t possibly. Did he sense it, from two lawns away? Dream about the binding of cells, the furnace left lit in your body from that night? The embers still floating, just waiting to catch to life again?

Did he do the fucking math, the way you probably should’ve? How does he fucking know?

The minute the question leaves your mouth, you regret it.

Joel’s eyebrows drop. “How did I know what, kid? That you need new closets? Like you ain’t been nipping my ear about ‘em for weeks?”

Your eyes unlock from his and shift to the slats of wood leaning against the balustrade. The toolbox hanging from his fist. The worn jeans and the white dust marks on his thighs. He doesn’t fucking know, you idiot.

Joel steps forward. Takes your wrist. One grounding, steady hand around your thrashing pulse. “You’re freaking me out. What the hell’s –?”

“Nothing,” you chirp, remembering. The closet. The deal. The fucking – the deal. You withdraw your arm. Hidden up your sleeve, quickly slipping out of his grasp, is the news that his life is about to change forever.

Maybe. You don’t fucking know.

“No,” you continue, blinking the burn of sunlight from your vision, “I just – I forgot. Sorry. Come in. Sorry.”

“Quit sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. He lifts a foot and hovers it over the threshold, hesitating. Like the first step across a minefield; instinct telling him to tread carefully.

And you swear an oath to yourself, swear it on your own life: if he doesn’t put the heel of his boot in your hallway, if he turns around right now whether because his instinct is razor sharp, or because he forgot his lucky screwdriver, or purely because he needs to take a fucking leak before he gets started – you will never tell him. He will never know.

If his intuition is that good, he’ll turn around and never show up on your porch again. If he has any sense, he’ll forget any of this ever happened. Deal off.

“How’s the stomach?” Joel asks, sole still three inches from wood.

“What?” you bleat, your heel knocking against the bottom stair. It’s a little more panicked than you intended.

“Yesterday,” a crease forms between his brows, “you said you had a weird stomach. That any better?”

Oh, you think, and as you open your mouth to reply, his foot hits the ground. No answer needed. He was coming in whether you tried to deter him or not.

“Oh, yeah. It’s – Well, it’s better than it was. I think I worked it out,” you grimace, tongue curling under the tinge of anxiety and – well. “Thanks,” you add, noticing the brisk cut of your replies.

The heavy thud of his footsteps follows you upstairs, blunt on the carpet as you lead him up. Joel sets the toolbox down and casts your room a quick glance, snapping back to you as soon as you notice him.

You tug on the corner of the bedsheets, a heat bubbling beneath your cheeks. Something shy and self-conscious, all of a sudden. The reality that you don’t feel close enough to this man to share the anatomy of your room with him, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you are, now and forever, bound by the anatomy of something a little more significant than dirty laundry and dusty wardrobes.

A little closer than most humans get, let’s say.

“You want a coffee or something?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning back against the window sill.

“You havin’ one?”

“Sure. Wait – actually –” Can you have coffee whilst pregnant? A woman at work quit it altogether when she fell pregnant with her son. Fuck. “I’m – No. I’m good. But let me go make you one.”

Joel shakes his head, amused. Screwdriver burrowing into a door hinge already. He flashes you a tickled grin. “I’m good just now, kid. Wait until you’re makin’ one. Thanks.”

You lift a shoulder. “Welcome.”

His eyes flit from the twist of silver to your hunched shoulders, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. “You gonna stand there ‘n watch me all day? You my foreman now?”

“Sure,” you reply, and he laughs. You sniff, twisting your foot into the carpet. The plastic test itches against your skin; you can feel the two lines ripping into your wrist like tiny burns. “I can go, if you want.”

His lip turns, musing. A quick flick of his jaw. “You’re good company, all in all.”

Metal clanking against metal; fingers knuckle-deep in the toolbox. You can hear the harsh sound across your body, like the point of screws and bite of rust are actually scoring your skin. The groan of a near-fifty-year-old man rising to rip a decades-old door from its home. The creak of wood as it splits.

Everything so heightened that it’s actually painful.

Joel straightens up and pauses, turning his screwdriver between his fingers. “Are we –? We’re good, right?”

“Good?”

“Yeah. You’d tell me if things were weird?”

“Why would things be weird?”

His answer scrawls itself across his face. Your response scoffs from your lips.

“I just,” Joel sighs, “I feel like something might be off with ya. Maybe you just ain’t feelin’ too hot. But you’re quiet.”

“Quiet,” you whisper, palms locking heavily against your biceps. More defensive than convincing.

“Yeah. You usually annoy the hell outta me.”

Over your shoulder, Alice Brown waddles down her driveway, eyeing her flowerbeds. She pauses when Diane’s station wagon pulls up across the street; stands motionless as she watches the round figure climb out and totter to her own front door.

“Just – not in a very annoying mood, I guess,” you offer, staring at the white head of hair fluttering in the breeze. The glint of a trowel in her hand.

Joel’s chin lifts. He studies you, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. And then he’s nearing you, turning until you’re shoulder to shoulder, two silhouettes stood against the bright square of blue sky inside your window frame. His arms crossed; his stare fixed.

The words begin to boil in your stomach. Violent bubbles against the wall of your midriff. Rising like steam, fading into nothingness over your tongue, the sting of heat where your voice won’t collect them.

Joel moves from foot to foot. It feels like some kind of merry dance, some choreographed moment between you – like a skit in a comedy show. I know something you don’t know.

“What happened – at the wedding,” he murmurs, addressing the polished gold of your bedframe.

Some small sound passes your lips. An affirmative. You’re on the same page.

“We didn’t use – you know. And with you not feelin’ well, it’s…” A deep breath. Chest full of a ghostly bravery. And then he asks, “Are you –?”

Silence swallows the end of his question whole. You didn’t need it, anyway. The stiffness of his frame, his stare shooting straight ahead. The lack of oxygen between you – both holding your breath for fear that something might tear loose from your lungs. He knows. He knows he knows he knows.

You gulp. “…If I was?”

His head cranes upwards, focusing on the cracked plaster of your ceiling. The realization slowly trickling down over his skin. It hasn’t seeped through, hasn’t bled into his brain yet. “Then,” another breath, “then it’d be a conversation…” His voice is halved, split somewhere between knowing and – what is it? Hoping?

Your eyes slip over to the worn sleeve of his T-shirt, stretched around the swell of his bicep; scaling up to his shoulder, the tight set of his jaw. He’s so much taller, he’s so much older. There’s so much life lived and so many lessons learned behind his eyes that you wonder how much the news I’m pregnant would actually crack him.

Your eyes meet. You whisper, “Then – talk,” and his expression softens.

He blinks away whatever’s left of his trying, his polite attempts to skirt around it. He sheds probably a good three decades – turns back into some doe-eyed boy, wonderstruck and terrified. His voice is quiet, and at the same time, the heaviest with emotion you’ve ever heard it. “Are you?” he asks, and immediately, he blurs behind a wall of tears.

Your sentence gets caught in your teeth. It made no sense to begin with. Tangled between your molars, latching at the back of your tongue. Your hand slowly pulls free from your sleeve, the little white test between your fingers.

Joel’s eyes instantly drop, staring at the pale stick with a fraught expression you understand to mean the message has finally reached his brain. The same words now ringing between his ears: She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant. I got her pregnant.

You hold the test out, quivering in the daylight. He takes it in his thumbs, instantly soothing its tremble. Everything muted, every movement steady and considered. And suddenly the sight of that positive test feels less scary, in his hands. Feels like a smaller problem, if that were ever possible.

And he says nothing, and it’s almost unbearable to watch the shape of his lips thin, the shadow beneath his brows darken. Agonizing to stand here and wonder what the next words over his tongue will be.

He stares at it a moment longer. You count the beats of your pulse in your throat. You wrap your arms tighter around your body, holding your skeleton together.

Joel’s lips part. Your breath freezes. Whatever he says, you don’t want to miss a syllable.

“Are you –” he blinks, “– are you feelin’ okay?”

You stare blankly. His eyes finally lift.

“What?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Your head jerks. “I’m – I’m fine. I mean, I’m fucking shocked.”

He nods. “How long have you known?”

“Took that right before you showed up,” you say, eyes diving to his hands. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”

He’s still switching between you and the test. Checking those two lines are still there, as if they might fade to nothing, and then checking you’re still there – as if you might, too. Might be swept off if he’s not keeping an eye on you.

His face pales. He sinks back against the window ledge. “Jesus,” he breathes, a hand down the scruff of his chin.

And it feels like relief, like a mirror sat before you, presenting the honest truth: you’re fucked, and Joel thinks so, too. It embeds the shock into the cushion of your brain, the weight of it absorbed and laid bare for every particle in your body to pay it a visit. What the fuck do we do now?

“Yeah,” you sniff, “Jesus.”

But then his arm wraps around your shoulder, reminding you you’re still solid. Still whole. He holds you to his side, and when you turn into him, he takes you in the other and pulls you flat against his chest. His lips to your hair. His breathing slowing yours.

“We’re gonna work it out,” he says into your hair. “We’re gonna – Jesus, I did not expect…We are goin’ to be fine, alright? You are goin’ to be fine.”

You’re nodding, the prickle of tears flooding across your eyes again. They’re doing nothing, his words – blunt against your skin and insignificant to the fear swelling around your heart – but it feels better to be afraid with someone. Feels better to hold onto something stronger, something bigger, while you feel yourself beginning to shrink.

“What do we do?” you ask into his shirt.

Joel loosens his grip, pulls away until you’re staring at one another. “What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t…” Your head’s shaking, lips moving quicker than your voice will offer the words over. “I don’t think I want to get rid of it.”

He nods, a hand coming up to hold your cheek. “Alright. Then you don’t have to. You don’t gotta do anythin’ you’re not comfortable with.”

“But,” you sniff, guiltily averting his gaze, “this fucks everything up. Everything’s about to change.”

Joel takes a long, slow breath. “It complicates some things, that’s for sure.” He looks out to the street; Alice Brown now hauling weeds from the edge of her lawn. In his exhale, he breathes a name.

“V…What?”

He looks down. Eyes dance around your damp cheeks. “Vanessa,” he says, clearer now.

“Vanessa?”

A nod. His nose wriggles with an awkward sniff. You push off from his chest.

“Who the hell is Vanessa?”

Joel lets you go; lets you step back. He watches as you brace yourself against the ledge. Runs a hand through his hair while he fixes the right order of words. He’s thinking. Carefully.

Too fucking carefully. He’s taking too long.

“Joel. Who’s Vanessa?”

“She’s…” He sighs. “She’s my ex. From Tommy’s wedding. Vanessa Hart.”

Your jaw slackens. The purple dress. The hair like silk, a halo around her head where the light kissed her perfectly. Her plump lips; the way her head tipped back to laugh. The amount of air you felt her take up the second you laid eyes on her, the second you saw her, arm on top of Joel’s.

“Vanessa,” you whisper, your eyes descending his frame. The memory feels menacing now: her sweet giggle a sneering cackle, and you’ve no idea why. The bulky jewels around her neck, her clawed fingers on his arm.

Joel’s hand sits inches from yours on the wooden sill. Alice is walking back inside.

“We, uh…we swapped numbers the morning after the wedding, at breakfast. I didn’t think much of it, but we’ve seen each other a couple times since.”

This isn’t the time for another it’s a date, it’s not a date argument. What the fuck does he mean by –

“Seen each other?”

“Mhm.” He owes you better than that. He reckons so, too. “Dates,” he clarifies. “We’ve been on a couple dates.”

“Oh.”

Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Plummets, dragging with it your breath and your nerve and any other words you can think of. Your chest gnaws at the edges of the cavity left behind. It hurts. It stings.

Though you’ve no right for it to hurt or sting: as far as you were concerned, as far as you think Joel was concerned, that night was a one-off. It meant as little as the alcohol draining from your glasses, the vacant buzz of love and hope loose in the air. Equally as intoxicating as each other.

Cataclysmic, for the first little while. So heavily awkward that you would wait to watch Joel head out in the morning, clear of your path, before you’d set off for work. It felt like the aftermath of some natural disaster – the cleanup of debris and mistake.

But oh, it feels like a punch to the gut. Low, unexpected; a foul move by someone who never meant to hurt or not hurt you. Someone ignorant to every move he made, right up to this moment.

Your arms wrap around your body again, as though tending to the bruise left by the sucker punch shaped something like that tall woman named Vanessa.

Joel scratches the back of his neck. “We were…we were seein’ about starting things up again. Me ‘n her.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I got you. That’s – I mean, I’m – I’m sorry, Joel, I –”

“Woah, woah,” he’s stepping forward now, “hey, no. No way. This wasn’t you. Well, shoot – it kinda was you. But it was just as much me, right?”

You smile, your face back in the safe hold of his hands. Tears roll down your cheeks, collecting in the corners of your mouth. His thumbs swipe them away.

“This was just as much me,” he repeats, voice soft and soothing.

“But, you know – if you wanted to – just ‘cause I don’t want to get – so if you didn’t wanna have to – that’d be okay, you know that, right?”

His head snaps back, brows low. It’s the first time he looks like his cool has broken all morning. It’s the first time he looks…downright offended. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, and then, “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I just – I know this ain’t ideal. It’s even worse if you’re tryna make it work with Vanessa. So if you felt like it was too much, then…”

Joel shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says, edged with some kind of groan. “Stop talking, right now. Stop. You gotta take a deep breath, alright? I’m here, ‘n I mean I’m here. We’re in this together. I am not running out on you.”

“Joel –”

What was a mere crack in his cool before, rips through it now like lightning spreading across the sky. He closes his eyes, a sigh escaping between his teeth. “If you think I would leave you right now, to deal with this on your own –”

“I don’t,” you tell him, his vexation powering your sudden animation. You wipe your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m just saying, it’s a fucking lot. I don’t want you to feel trapped. I’m giving you an out, man.”

“I am not interested in taking it. Enough. Conversation over.”

“And what about Vanessa?”

“What about her?” he asks, the question dripping in something akin to anger. He catches himself, draws it back in. “She’ll just – We’ll talk, I’ll explain it. The hell else can we do? One thing at a time, okay?”

“Right,” you nod, “okay. One thing at a time.”

“Let’s just build these damn wardrobes. I sure as hell didn’t lug all that timber over here to not do ‘em.”

“Okay,” you repeat, making for the door.

“Ah.” He clicks, and you turn back. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”

“To get the timber.”

“I don’t think so,” he says, pointing to your bed. “Sit down. Relax. You ain’t getting a damn thing.”

Joel calls it a day at six o’clock.

The skeleton of the closet is up: a smooth, tan frame lining one wall of your room. Much bigger, much sturdier than its predecessor.

You’re in the same spot he left you in: lying across your bed, admiring his handiwork. He’s good at what he does. You told him twice, and the two of you almost heaved both times. Compliments aren’t something you’re used to handing one another.

He left, maybe, three hours ago. Said he had to shower; said he’d be back first thing to finish the job. You sat up to see him out, got struck by a wave of nausea so bad that you fell back to the bed with one hand on your stomach and the other over your lips, and Joel had insisted – demanded – that you stay where you were.

I’ll be back later to check on ya, he assured, setting a glass of water at your bedside. And then he told you to call him if you felt even remotely off – sick, or panicked, or had a tickle in your throat that you couldn’t clear – and that’s when the two of you realized that you don’t even have one another’s numbers.

And you laughed, the both of you; laughed at the absurdity of you carrying his child when you don’t even carry his contact details in your phone. Laughed at how quickly everything has turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the few hours since you woke up. It felt like some form of release, the only way to clear the blockage of tension in both your throats. So, you laughed, until you felt sick again, and Joel swept the hair from your shoulders to cool you down.

The attentiveness is…new. It’s interesting. It’s kind, in the same way that being told to say hi to whoever your grandma is talking to in the grocery store, is kind. Sweet, the same way that answering the door on Halloween to a bunch of kids you don’t know from a street you don’t recognize the name of, is sweet.

Whatever. It’s fucking weird, alright?

You’ve never seen this side of Joel. You didn’t know or even think, in your wildest dreams, that he existed. Let’s face it: you two have spent the entirety of your inhabitance next door to one another, antagonizing each other. Your favorite hobby has always been pissing Joel off – teasing him for having backache, seeing how far down his porch you can launch his newspaper and he’ll still go get it. Playing the same kind of music you heard him playing on his guitar that one time, full-volume from your kitchen window just to fuck with him.

And, likewise: his favorite hobby has always been…well, ignoring you. Doing everything he can not to engage. If it weren’t for that fucking cat lady and her jittery green Chevrolet, none of this would’ve ever happened. She was a catalyst where one was neither needed nor wanted. You would’ve gone about your life, pinning your underwear only slightly more carefully to your clothesline, and Joel would’ve gone about his, doing – whatever the fuck he does.

Sure, it’s weird. But it’s nice. It’s nice to have him on your side, turning to check on you rather than snap at you for something. Nice to have him talk – actual, rounded words in place of grumbles and mumbles and groans and sighs. Nice to hang out with him and watch him work and ask questions about screws and power tools and pretend to be interested just to distract from the weight of queasiness in your stomach.

Your hands trail down, cupping around your navel. Your stomach still feels like your stomach: still soft, still spongey under your touch. If not for the two more tests you’d taken this afternoon, perched on the bathroom counter waiting for Joel to unstick his gaze from his watch and announce, That’s three minutes – both also positive, by the way – you’d have no fucking clue.

You hold the bottom half of your tummy, fingers rubbing gently over the skin that will soon enough grow and swell and protect.

“Hey,” you whisper, staring at the stationary ceiling fan overhead. A pause. An awkward inhale. “…hey, little buddy. I don’t – know you very well, yet. I figure you can’t even fucking hear me, but whatever. Just wanted to say hi. I’m – Ew, no. I’m not Mom, yet. What the fuck. I don’t know who I am right now, so just…maybe go easy on me until I figure that part out. And after, too. Alright? Are we…we cool?

“You can’t tell me, I know. I just have to assume we’re cool. Okay. Well. Keep growin’. Keep…doing your thing. You’re doing great. We’re doing – we’re doing alright.

“Good job, kid. Good job.”

Joel tells Vanessa two days later. She takes it…about as well as you might hope.

He says they talked for four hours. Three cups of coffee and a drive to Taco Bell later, she agreed to meet you. Properly. Not across the cluttered dancefloor of Tommy’s wedding.

She –? Is – is that a good idea?

I don’t know, kid. It’s the best I’ve got.

Meet me? Like, come kick my ass for sleeping with her boyfriend?

Joel had sighed and deadened his eyes on yours. Not her boyfriend, he corrected, passing you a sweater folded a little slapdash for your liking, and wasn’t her boyfriend when we slept together.

You shook the sweater straight again and fixed his work, muttering to yourself that at least he’s a better builder than he is a folder.

Joel heard you, and let it go. Passed you another – unfolded – sweater to sit in your wardrobe. Let’s just see how it goes, alright?

Alright.

We’re really trying this again. It’s only been a couple weeks.

Okay.

And neither of us have had much luck in that department since we broke it off, y’know?

Joel. I said okay.

He held your gaze a moment too long. Okay.

You’re on your porch when he strolls over, wrist blocking the six o’clock sun from his eyes. Newspaper in his fist, wind licking the corners. “Forget somethin’ today?” he asks, meeting you at the top of the steps.

“Came out to get it,” you brace yourself on the railing, “felt sick. This is me workin’ up to it.”

“You want me to toss it back onto my lawn so you can go fetch me it?”

You smile, eyes screwing shut. “Was coming over to ask what time for tomorrow.”

The reminder snaps him from his happy daydream. He says, “I was comin’ to ask you the same thing. Seven work?”

“Seven’s good. Are we getting food?”

“You wanna get food? I figured maybe you wouldn’t be up for it, what with the, uh…” Joel gestures to your hunched position, your head low between your shoulders, your deep, deliberate breaths.

“Maybe just drinks,” you utter, gulping back the sharp taste of bile.

He nods. “Drinks it is. You okay? You need anything?”

“I’m good. Thanks. See you guys at seven.”

Four minutes early, there’s a knock at your door. You pull it open, and there they are. Picture-perfect, like they might be posing for a holiday card. A bottle in his arm, a bunch of flowers in hers. A timid but genial smile between her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye. That same circle of shining light around her head, brunette tresses curled into bouncing waves.

“Howdy,” Joel says, stepping into the space you create. He dips his head, kisses your cheek, whispers a brief, Y’okay? in your ear. You nod quickly, gently shifting him out of the way.

Vanessa lingers for a moment in the doorway. She glances from Joel to you again, blinking in the porch light. Her pale skin lit in an ethereal glow. She’s prettier up close.

Joel addresses you, hand brushing the small of your back, “…this is Vanessa.”

“Hi,” she says, and pushes the flowers towards you – a small bouquet of gypsophila and eucalyptus. Bright, polite. Each sprig laden with the burden of appearing simpatico, but important. Meaningful, in the airiest sense of the word. “Hi,” again.

“Hi,” you echo, and then feel stupid for having nothing more to offer. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, hot on your shoulder.

But Vanessa takes the weight from your chest. “It’s nice to meet you – officially. I saw you at Tommy and Maria’s wedding. You looked so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” springs from your tongue sooner than the rest of the sentence. Your brain scrams to find more words. “You looked – you looked great, too. Do you wanna –? I mean – Sorry. Come in. Obviously.”

She clicks over the threshold, her pale dress floating into your hallway like she’s part of a dream. She’s just as beautiful in this light, relaxed form – pastel blue and the glimmer of golden jewelry – as she was in the sleeker, more dramatic form you saw her in before. An aura about her which captures and tends to your attention. Intense, captivating, but not intimidating.

You usher them to the living room, offer them a space on the couch while you take Vanessa’s flowers to the kitchen. Joel follows you through, sets the bottle on the counter.

“Nonalcoholic,” he says, unscrewing the cap.

Your eyebrows jump. “Great. Thanks.”

“She’s nervous,” he murmurs, leaning in. “I know you are, too. Y’all are similar like that.”

You slot the stems into a vase of water one by one, carefully organizing a display. “She seems sweet,” you assure him. “She shouldn’t be nervous.”

“Neither should you.”

“Is this…totally weird for you?”

Joel breathes in deep, filling three glasses. “Yeah,” he says, eyes never lifting from the sparkling peach.

“Sorry.”

He angles his jaw. “Stop sayin’ you're sorry. I’ll kick your ass.”

Your head drops between your shoulders, eyes lifting only to his elbows. “Sorry.”

He scoffs, swiping the glasses and stepping back to let you out first.

“I’m trying not to make it weird,” you offer, slipping by.

“I don’t want you to try anything.” He kicks your ankle lightly and follows you back into the living room.

Vanessa sits forward and clasps her hands around her knee when you sit back down, shifting as though to reach for you before she stops herself. “How are you feeling? Joel said you’re a little…worse for wear, right now.”

“I’ve been better,” you say, smiling. “Just morning sickness. Which lasts – all day.”

She nods sympathetically. “My sister had it rough with her first. I actually…” She twists around, reaches for her purse, fishes out an orange packet. “I brought you some ginger tea. Kate told me it helped her a lot, so.”

She holds it out in almost trembling fingers. Likewise, you steady yours to take it from her, thanking her with a shy nod of the head. “That’s so kind,” you reply quietly, eyes darting to Joel. He’s staring at the pack in your hands, watching as you turn it over to read the back.

“And – listen,” Vanessa continues, the acceptance of her offering clearly fueling her assuredness, “I don’t want anything to be weird – between you and I, between you and Joel. I know this situation is…new. It’s, um…”

“It’s kinda weird,” you say, humoring. “It’s okay. I know.”

She breathes a relieved laugh. “It is. Thank God you said it.” She glances back at Joel, who smiles at her, slips his hand onto her knee. “But I guess,” a deep breath, “I guess it is what it is. And we’re all adults, you know? We can make it work, right?”

Your head switches rapidly between nodding enthusiastically and shaking enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes. No, absolutely. And, you know, me and Joel – there isn’t – we’re not at all…”

“Oh,” she bats the idea away, “I know. I know that. He told me everything. It’s – You know, it’s just a timing thing.”

Joel’s staring down at his hand locked around her leg. Unblinking. Unmoving. His expression doesn’t shift until the two of you settle back into your seats; until Vanessa asks if he’d mind making you a cup of ginger tea.

You barely notice his absence, the way she takes you up in conversation. Like twirling you off in some kind of dance, each sentence strung safely to the next. There are no lulls, no awkward pauses. She asks about work, asks about your family. She tells you stories about her niece, who’s three now, and compares how you’re feeling to how she remembers her sister feeling.

Then her work, and the IT guy her friend hooked up with, and her class at the gym which she’s trying to convince Joel to come along to, and Kate’s hot yoga class every Thursday night, and the new sushi place which just opened downtown and You gotta try it some day; the nigiri is divine.

And you nod along, and you laugh at her anecdotes and tell your own, and Joel tells her to tell you about the jazz band who were playing at the restaurant they visited a couple weeks ago, and you offer to top her drink up and she says she’ll do it herself and she leaves you and Joel alone for the first time all evening, and – it’s weird.

Because – behind the veil of conversation you’re doing your best to uphold, sits an image of this very night – only, in Joel’s house. In Joel’s house, on Joel’s couch, drinking nonalcoholic wine with Joel’s brother. Joel and Vanessa leant against one another on one couch, Tommy and Maria on the other.

You can’t help it – you’re wondering what Maria thinks of Vanessa. How long they knew each other, if at all, before the breakup. Whether they hung out, whether they discussed sushi and yoga, or the housing market, or their Miller boyfriends and their annoying Miller habits.

Maria would’ve liked her, you think. Would’ve found her as lovely as you do. And the idea, the image of them giggling together at family parties and being Tommy’s Maria and Joel’s Vanessa – presses a firm, bullying finger into the bruise you thought had faded some from the other day.

And once they’re gone, once you’re left alone again – lying in still silence, closed in on yourself by the thick darkness of your room, nothing but you and your thoughts and your unborn child for company – it slips out.

“Fuck her, right?” You hold your hands out, addressing your stomach. “She was so fucking nice. Did you like her? Fuck me, I liked her. I hope they break up.”

And then, realizing who you’re talking to: “No. Sorry, baby, no. I don’t hope they break up. I want your dad to be really happy. But – Goddamn. She was so sweet. I thought she was gonna slap me, and she just – she brought ginger tea! Fuck. They look good together, don’t they?”

It’s just hormones. Just the emotional trip that is being four weeks pregnant. Everybody feels like this when they fall pregnant – sensitive, vulnerable, clingy. Right? Right?

Your words sit stagnant in midair. You swear you can see them, heavy and intruding. Awkwardly lingering someplace they don’t belong. Because none of it even matters – the hormones, the emotions. The weird knot burning a hole in your chest, shaped like a clenched fist, knuckles branded by the heat of longing. It can’t matter.

You’re where you are, he’s where he is. A pillow in your arm, Vanessa in his. Feet apart, bricks and mortar and something like twenty years and two dates too late separating you.

Both staring up at the ceiling, wondering who the other’s thinking of.

“At eight weeks, your baby is roughly the size of a raspberry.”

Your knee bounces, breath coming and going in shaky ripples. The rubber sole of your shoe cries against the sterilized hospital floor. Your chest hums anxiously and your throat catches when you swallow and are the lights too bright? The room too hot? You’re sweating. Why are you sweating? Can you breathe right now?

Joel nudges your arm and your eyes roll to the pamphlet in his hand, his finger tracing the words. “C’mon,” he utters, leaning in, “how can anything the size of a raspberry be scary?”

You squint under fluorescent white. “A raspberry that grows into the size of a watermelon, can break my ribs, make me throw up, make me lose hair, and then tear my vagina apart on its way out? That’s pretty scary.”

He smirks. “Not to me it ain’t. My vagina stays perfectly intact the entire time.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you reply, whacking him.

He laughs, swatting your palm away, keeping ahold of your fingers inside his own. “Speaking of – we gotta talk.” He elbows you, waiting until you’re looking again to speak. “We gotta cut the language.”

“Cut the language?”

“Uhuh. Rein it in. And by we, I mean you.”

“Uh,” you scoff, “I don’t think so. When you do the growing, then you can rein your own swearing in. Leave me alone, asshole.”

“Charming,” Joel says. “You know the baby can hear you? You want it to come out swearin’ like a trooper?”

You grin, tipping your head to him. “If it comes out and says anything, we’re rich. So – yeah. Let it.”

He opens his mouth to reply when a nurse emerges from a nearby room and calls your name.

“You’re up, kid,” Joel says, standing beside you.

You turn back, speaking before your brain settles on words. “I’m scared.”

“Hey,” he says, taking your hand. He squeezes it gently, uses the other to keep you facing him. “This is the easy part, right? We’re just going to meet them.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and wander over to meet the nurse. Joel’s hand a vice grip around yours.

She leads you into a similarly washed-out clinic room, only slightly dimmer with the lights turned out, and yanks a roll of paper across the bed. Tapping it twice, she smiles. “Hop up, darlin’.”

You settle into the crinkly paper, leaning back until you’re blinking up at the speckled ceiling. Another door opens and a woman in a white coat floats in, and you swear that if it weren’t for Joel’s Evenin’, ma’am when she greets the two of you, you’d believe she were a figment of your imagination. Another character in this fucking insane dream.

“Not often I do these past five o’clock,” she says, clicking her mouse and typing on her keyboard and fixing a hair grip back into her bun. Casual. It’s not even a thing to her, introducing parents and children. She does this all fucking day.

Joel tosses half a glance to you and then realizes you’re not currently in the room. He pinches your hand again. It grounds you for all of two seconds.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “work commitment. I couldn’t get away any earlier, so we’re havin’ to do this a little late.”

“What do you do?” she asks, staring at her screen. Her glossy brown eyes and rich, dark skin.

“I’m a contractor,” Joel replies, thumb stroking your shoulder.

Something bubbles in your stomach, something akin to jealousy, an urgency to tell her that right now, in this room, he’s mine. No more questions. Something which quickly dissipates when you remind yourself to quit being fucking ridiculous and that right now, in this room, he’s someone else’s, and the thumb on your shoulder is merely to hold you back from fleeing. Nothing more.

The sonographer nods. Her name badge reads Freya. Pretty name. Stop picturing what your kid would look like as a Freya. You are not naming them after the first sonographer you meet.

“Shouldn’t be too long, then y’all can get home for the night. You live nearby?”

“Twenty minutes’ drive. Not far, are we?” Joel asks you.

Your eyes shoot down to his. “No,” you push your cheeks up, telling Freya, “not far.”

She flattens her lips against one another, lending you a sympathetic smile. “You got nothing to worry about, honey. Promise. Gel might be a little cold, that’s about as scary as this gets. We’re just gonna make sure everything’s looking good, check your dates, check your measurements. You’re doing great.”

“You hear that?” Joel murmurs, settling down into the chair by your side. His hand hasn’t left yours. His voice is low, meant just for you, when he repeats, “You’re doin’ great.”

You huff a laugh, some nervous release from your lungs.

Freya smiles, face lit by the faint glow of the screen in front of her. “We ready?”

You roll the hem of your tee up when she motions, bunching it under the wire of your bra. She squeezes a bottle over your stomach, which tenses solid when the frozen bite of gel curls right below your belly button. Freya smiles apologetically when you wince. Told you, she murmurs, and your breath escapes in a slightly more comfortable laugh. Lighter, easier. Scariest part over.

She presses the probe to your skin and spreads the gel, coating the bottom of your tummy in a slippery slick which tickles with each inch she covers. Two buttons pressed, and a dark image appears on a screen opposite you.

A gray fan, speckled like the ceiling above your head. Dark, black shapes growing and shrinking at the turn of Freya’s wrist. She pauses, two blobs onscreen: the larger, black, round, home to a smaller, misshapen one. Flecked with white and silver and moving slowly, gently, but – right there.

“Mom, Dad,” she grins, “meet your baby.”

You and Joel move forward at the same time, drawn closer to the crunchy image as if by some kind of natural magnetism. Eyes never blinking, lips agape. The shapes flutter, the smaller dipping in and out of view.

“You see right here, right in the center?” A white cross appears over the blob’s middle. “That little movement? The kinda – pulsing?”

You each nod. Your nails dig so deep into Joel’s hand that you risk drawing blood.

“That’s the heart. Ticking away.”

“The heart?” you ask, watching the rhythmic flicker in the center of the screen.

“Yep. Perfect, too.”

She hits another key and suddenly the room is filled with a muffled thudding; a steady, energetic pulse in your ears. It matches the movements onscreen, the tiny throb of the baby’s chest, the shape of your womb moving like waves before you.

And suddenly, it's real – all of it: the screen and the room and the sonographer and you, and Joel’s hand encasing yours, holding your knuckles to his lips, and –

And the heartbeat. Right there, right in front of you. Shy, probably as nervous as you are to introduce themselves. Feeling your eyes on them, curled up somewhere safe inside you. Right there.

You turn to Joel, and his illuminated face is staring straight at the screen. Eyes soaked with tears, blinking as they form, cheeks dappled with wet. He draws his eyes from his child only to look back at you, only to mirror your stunned smile, your disbelieving laugh, more tears dripping down into his beard. He sits up, presses his damp lips firmly to your forehead.

Freya mutes the heartbeat, pauses the scan where the image is clearest, and sits back. “I’ll give you guys a moment to yourselves,” she says, wheeling back in her chair. “Take all the time you need. I’m right outside.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbles for the both of you, sweeping hair from your face.

The door closes on your little bubble – you, Joel, and the grainy image of your baby. The evidence that – yeah, that night happened, and yeah, you’re forever changed because of it. The evidence that you’re about to become a mom, for real, no matter how much the thought makes you feel like your stomach is kicking around at your ankles.

And the evidence that, no matter how scared you might be, how unprepared and unworthy you feel – you fucking adore that little blob already.

Love it as much as Joel does, stood over you, kissing your hair and whispering words you’re only half-listening to. A quiet thank you, a shaky I can’t believe it. Something about showing his brother. And when you look up at him, blinking at one another, inches apart – he takes your jaw in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.

Different. Softer. No want laced through. No urgency. Nothing needed, nor requested, that isn’t already right here in this little bubble of yours.

He kisses you slowly, eyes closed, holding you until you pull away for breath. His nose bumps against yours and you laugh, heads together, eyes low.

“Still scared?” he whispers.

“Terrified,” you tell him.

“Me, too,” he says, and kisses you again.

You lean back against the bed, relief settling your bones and soothing your heartbeat. The notion washes over you that, if you could, you’d stay in this room forever. Staring at the screen, holding Joel’s hand. Whispering fears into his mouth and letting him swallow them in a kiss.

He hands you some paper towel and helps you drag it across your stomach, your eyes still fixed on the little shape opposite. He hooks his chin over your head – the fresh, woody smell of his cologne infiltrating your lungs and throwing you under the haze of something you’re not quite sure how to define.

“Duck,” he says, voice vibrating into your skull.

“Huh?”

“Start saying duck. Make the baby think we’re saying that, then you can say –” he lowers his voice, “– fuck, all you want.”

“The hell would I have to say duck for?”

Joel stands upright and shrugs. “I don’t know. Think of somethin’. A nickname, maybe.”

“Duck?”

He nods plainly, glancing over to the screen.

The pillow beneath your head sighs as you turn from Joel back to the ultrasound. “Baby Duck,” you offer, and he smiles.

Smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. Eyes glistening, cheeks swollen. Something innocent and earnest about it. Something pure.

He agrees. “Baby Duck it is.”

Joel insists that you spend the night at his place.

“It’s been a big day,” he reasons, fixing the bed in his guestroom. “Just – let me run around after you for a little bit.”

You fight your corner as much as you can be bothered – I gotta maintain my independence, I’m gonna be a single mom soon enough, you know – but, truthfully, you’ll take any excuse to have him rush around at your beck and call. Some days you open your mouth and he hears the wet click of saliva between your lips, and grabs a glass of water for you before you’ve even voiced the request.

He orders takeout, settles shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch, and lets you pick whichever movie you feel like putting him through until the food’s gone, he’s out of beer, and you’ve abandoned Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles for an argument about the best part of pizza.

You don’t like the crust?

Nope.

What fuckin’ age are you?

If it ain’t stuffed, it’s just not worth it.

At eleven, you bid him goodnight and wander upstairs, falling into a sea of navy-blue sheets to be delivered to sleep by the serene silence of Joel’s home. It takes no time for your eyes to flutter closed, the soft sheen of moonlight painted across the wall, sweeping from your view to be replaced in a whir by –

Lights. Overhead and all around and so bright and so close that you swear they’re etched on the inside of your eyelids.

You’re in the backseat, watching them soar by in blurs of white and red and amber and green, and your pulse is rattling through your veins and throbbing between your temples and you can’t focus on any one object for longer than three seconds, before your eyes roll and your head dizzies.

A word, slung from your lips in a half-wakened attempt to stop it. A word you barely recognize at first, don’t understand the meaning of. It’s been years. Why now? Mom.

You’re not sure why, or who you’re even reaching out to. There are two figures in the front seats, heads facing forward. She’s not turning around. She’s not even fucking moving, not reacting to the speed or the lights or your voice. Mom.

You scream it, the syllable ripping violently from your throat, and your tiny fingers reach for her swirls of hair. You pause, staring at the chipped polish on your stubby, kiddy nails. Mom, I’m scared.

The distorted blast of a horn scoops the car up in one motion, hurtling over itself along the freeway. You’re thrown to the roof of the car, plummet back down to your seat; the seatbelt throttles you, rips a burn deep into the skin of your neck. Back up again; your head hits the spongey roof of the car. Your stomach somersaults.

Mom, please, you wail, swiping for her hand. It’s lying limp by her thigh, dark droplets on her wrist. Mom Mom please Mom I’m scared Mom please I’m so scared I –

“Baby.”

His voice is low, earthy. It chews apart the high-pitched squeal of brakes and screaming. The glass smashing. The metal crunching.

You lift from the bed like it’s ice water, gasping when you finally surface back on Earth. Your chest heaves, it’s not sucking in enough breath; you can’t breathe you can’t breathe you can’t fucking breathe.

Joel whips the cover from your legs and you roll from the mattress, feet planting on the floor. You bend forward to grip onto the sheets, a choking rising up your throat, closer and closer until it tugs on your tongue.

“Icantbreathe,” you pant.

Joel’s body curves around yours. “You’re alright,” he’s telling you – urging you; one hand between your shoulder blades, the other holding your wrist for fear you might collapse. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re at my place, you’re safe, but, kid – I need you to slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”

You work your breathing to the strokes of his hand up and down your spine: in out in out in and out and in and out and in, and out, and in, and…out…and in…and…out.

“That’s it. Keep doing that. You’re good, baby, I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

In – and out. In – and out again.

The room slowly desaturates back into boring, moonlit blue. Feeling sputters back into your hands, clawing at the sheets once the sharpness dissolves. The cotton pets back, smooth under your quivering touch. Your lips stop tingling, your ears stop ringing. One after another, until your blood settles back to a steady stream and you straighten up.

“Can you sit down for me?”

“No,” you whimper, and Joel nods.

“That’s alright,” he says. “I’m gonna get you a drink, that okay?”

You grab his T-shirt. “No. Don’t leave me. Please. Sorry.”

He cups your frozen cheeks. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Just downstairs. You can come.”

He settles you at his kitchen table and shuffles over to the cupboards, rubbing his eyes. You feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt, watching as he settles down with a groan minutes later.

“Ginger,” he tells you, voice rounded by his mug, sliding one of your own over to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, lifting it with two hands. The smell sharp, cutting up the remnants of gasoline and smoke.

“Many times do I gotta say it?” he asks dryly. “Quit sayin’ you’re sorry.”

You gulp nervously. “You got work in the morning. You’re gonna be exhausted.”

“And if I hadn’t let you keep me up watchin’ chick flicks, I’d be rested. That’s something I can deal with later. I got you to worry about right now.”

You shake your head; the ceramic hits the table with a sharp thud. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Well,” Joel sniffs, “you’re carrying my child. I’ll always worry about you.”

You sit back, the curve of the chair cradling, your heart beating lamely against the wood. Joel’s jaw rests in the cushion of his palm, staring back at you.

“What time is it?” you ask, and he glances over his shoulder.

“Three. Take a sip.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sip.”

You obey, lifting the tea and swallowing harshly.

He watches every move, every shift reflected in his dark eyes, decorated by a tense, stony expression. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Never,” you say. “This never happens.”

Joel cranes his jaw, cracks his neck. “Alright,” he sighs, “that’s okay. Breathe again. You’re doing fine.”

But you don’t feel fine. The dregs of panic sizzle into something thicker, hotter. Anger. Frustration. “Why the fuck is this happening?” you hiss, fingers prodding into your eye sockets. “What the f–?”

“Easy. I don’t know. Hormones? Stress?”

“You sound like my fucking doctor.”

Joel smiles. Amusement, before concern wipes over it again. “Let’s just give it some time to pass, okay?”

You nod, hanging over your drink, the silhouette of your reflection staring back at you. The steam snakes up, seeping into your skin, bubbling under the surface. Wiping clean any memory of freeway or nail polish, like coating over a bathroom mirror. The shapes still visible behind, but blurred. Gone.

“How’s Vanessa?” you ask, an attempt to distract yourself.

Joel adjusts a little awkwardly in his chair. “She’s good. She loved the scan photo. Showed it to her sister. They’re sure it’s a boy.”

“Ha. Joel Jr.”

“Joel Jr.,” he agrees, and then attempts to distract himself. “So,” he says, “Allandale.”

“Mhm?”

“Wonder if I ever saw your mom or dad. When I was there visitin’ Sam.”

You shrug. “Doubt it. I mean, they always lived right next to the elementary school, if that helps. My mom was a first-grade teacher. The two of us used to walk there ‘n back together, every day.”

“First grade, huh? Best one.”

“Yeah. Yeah, and she was the best of the best. She used to go all out for her kids; used to go to Michaels and get all this crafty stuff so they could spend all afternoon making little houses or zoos, or – whatever she could think of. And she’d always keep some aside, bring some home for me to make one, too. One time, she came home with all this blue tissue paper and little foam fish, and we made an aquarium together.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Joel says.

“Yeah,” you say again, nodding eagerly. “She was so cool. And fun, y’know? I just remember her being so much fun. I always felt safe with her, felt loved. I actually used to think she hung the sun every morning, just for me.” You take a deep breath, replacing it with a broken sigh.

“What about your dad? What was he like?”

You frown. “He was…fine. Real quiet, reserved. A little grumpy, I guess. I always got the idea he couldn’t be bothered with me, young as I was. Always wanted to be left alone. I think my mom overcompensated a lot.”

Something flashes across Joel’s face that seems to say he knows – or, at least, he understands. Almost imperceptible, a quick flicker of annoyance. “You miss her?” he asks, switching back.

“My mom?” You almost laugh, gripping onto your mug. Staring at the slow swirl of ginger. A shrug which presents more like a flinch; an animal swatting a fly away. “I miss those parts, when I think of them. The aquarium, the walking to school. Miss the memories. But I don’t think I knew her well enough or long enough to miss her.

“I’ve lived way longer without her than I ever had her. Done everything without her, like –” gesturing down, “– this. But, sometimes…sometimes, I bundle the sheets up behind my back in bed, and I pretend it’s her. Pretend I have a mom, and she’s cuddling me to sleep. I dunno. Maybe that’s what missing her feels like.”

Joel soaks in every word you say, letting the shape of each one settle on the table between you before he speaks again. Letting them be spoken into the dead of night, collected by no one, and letting them fade into silence. Secrets sweeping off into starlight. Nothing you would admit in the daytime.

“What was her name?” he asks, voice timid and gentle in the dark kitchen.

You almost choke on your tea. “Shoot – I’m sorry. That was a lot. Sorry. She, uh – Her name?”

It brings the first genuine smile to your lips; the memory of your mom now clear behind your eyes. Her round cheeks, her fluttering earrings. The deep, dark curls of her hair, thick ringlets twisting and lighting in the sun. The gap between her front teeth, the purse of her lips as she kissed your cheeks, your hands, your tummy.

Her name like a melody in your head; a safe word, a calming mantra when the world becomes too noisy, too saturated, too sharp to bear. Two syllables. Two little beats, like a piece of her still lives in the sound of her name.

“Sarah,” you tell Joel. “Her name was Sarah.”

#*hits post*#*throws laptop from bridge*#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #neighbor!joel #babydaddy!joel miller #babydaddy!joel #tw pregnancy

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jjkills · 2 months

Note

i love you 🫶

#freaking out w. max #not my friend 🐼

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haeg0yangi · 4 months

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e a felicidade cade

#😞#freaking out w. max

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s-4pphics · 5 months

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click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?”

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest.

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder.

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek.

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie.

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.”

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought.

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?”

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.”

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed.

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person.

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you.

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers.

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming…

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.”

Oh God. “What?”

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!”

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick.

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.”

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.”

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom.

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization.

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one.

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl.

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work.

DENY REQUEST.

…

DENY REQUEST.

…

DENY REQUEST.

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed.

Why are people… so odd?

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?!

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one.

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty.

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away.

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name.

ELLIE WILLIAMS.

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement.

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval.

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you.

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it.

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note.

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.”

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend.

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.”

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out.

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.”

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.”

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.”

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.”

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face.

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.”

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup.

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.”

“The wettest. Go.”

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers.

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear.

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely.

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected.

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.”

“Alright.”

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads.

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?”

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.”

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward.

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.”

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder.

“What’d I say!”

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Oh yeah what.”

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?”

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles.

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish.

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper.

… Cute.

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here.

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable.

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking.

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil.

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention.

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before.

“Hey. Can we switch the time?”

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare.

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?”

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?”

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.”

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?”

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.”

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge.

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.”

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you.

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.”

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them.

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.”

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face.

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly.

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.”

“Sike.”

You scoff in disbelief, “What?”

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.”

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.”

“Right.”

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.”

“Hm?”

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat.

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.”

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee.

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself.

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie.

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word.

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant.

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn.

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.”

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.”

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs.

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.”

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.”

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.”

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.”

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?”

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff.

“Damn… My fault.”

“I’m chilling. I just need head.”

“Go out! Find somebody!”

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!”

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.”

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone.

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.”

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment.

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged.

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night.

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it.

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes.

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be.

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure.

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely.

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing.

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you.

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open.

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly.

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious.

“To move in.”

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen.

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that?

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?”

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.”

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.”

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder.

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.”

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit.

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case.

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

#ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #black!oc #black!reader #ellie williams tlou #works 𖧧࣪#click! ☾⋆⁺₊📸✧

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jellitchi · 2 months

Text

vat7k designs in my head...

i thought their canon designs were a eensy weensy bit Unpolished so i made these mostly for myself. erm if u rly want it i think varian is 19 here, hugo 19, nuru 18, yong 12.

i also made rhem all playlists and had to draw them a cover so thats what the last img is I linked each of em under my notes for all of em... Under the cut is Like a Huge Infodump of notes i have for each chara,,,,,,

i kept varians design basically the same, i dislike the design w the orange neck thing so i just Nuked it😭... Here's Varians playlist

Hugos design i just wanted to put him in something more Loose. hes a thief, a professional escape artist. i dont think wearing clunky metal is ideal for him. i also gave him a prosthetic arm (blond w no arm design trope!) but u cant see it in the ref so i added another drawing of him in his under layering👍 i vaguely referenced russian(?) clothes for him as well... Yeah not too much changed w him i just tried to make him slippery-er. Here's Hugo's playlist

yong came relatively easy to me, if it wasn't obvious i did rip gaming from g*nshin's hoodie. i thought the lion hood was Adorable and freaking perfect for what i had in mind for hos character. since the og notes said the fire kingdom is loosely Chinese inspired i basically just kept that. i mashed tgt a buncha diff dynasties though sorry for how inconsistent i was... i think he looks Okay. anyways i changed yongs role a bit, ill explain why im adjusting some of their roles later but i kept yong as the Jinx Type character. hes the eldest in his family and has a buncha younger siblings, hes a lion dancer and does performances w his family/siblings. he rly like special effects n keeps tryna incorporate his fireworks into their performances (it flops and he has to sew up the dmg) ill explain more of yongs role in another post maybe shrugs... Here's Yong's Playlist

miss nuru was a bit of a struggle for me i might share my full design process with her coz i did a Bunch of mockups for her😭😭😭... i didnt have a specific country of reference for her but i chose to make her vaguely south asian inspired. i also really wanted to keep the sheer fabric w the star / constellation map. i love that idea its so cute so shes still technically the navigator. but she also wields a sword too, fencing or whatever. (her and varian r Huge Cass fangirls which is probably why she started tryna use a sword (snuck out to watch cass compete) Okay ill talk abt this later) in my head, okay ill Probably make a whole nother post talking abt how im interpreting/writing each chara, but in my head i think nuru is the youngest and her kingdom's archivist. shes mostly in charge of like Her kingdoms history / artifacts / etc. ok im getting too side tracked ill save the lore dump for later but thats Nurus role in the party. Here's Nuru's Playlist

uhm below i made their character stats mostly to help me with planning / role developing. the yellow is their base stats the color behind is their end stats i guess. i was gonna explain my reasoning for their stats but ermm this post is kinda Really long so sorry😭... varian max int for obvious reasons, also max charisma just coz i feel like u kinda learn a thing or two being around a couple manipulators and spending time in jail idk shrugs... (also lets not forget the "ud b surprised what ppl would do for a cookie!") Hugo slippery guy, if a brick is thrown at him as hes running hes gonna try n run faster to shatter it, his mindset is Run Run Run! i think hes relatively agile too but yeah mostly a Speedster. i think he n varian got no Physical strength varian maybe just like A little coz Farm boy but I rly doubt quirin is making him do a Lotta heavy lifting. yong has incredible stamina and agility because hed a performer. nuru is the strongest coz this team would literally Flop without a proper Offense😭... i think varian n hugo r able to outwit plenty of their opponents but i think nuru is pretty good in a fight, same w yong. Yeah Okay Sorry for a Long Long Post thanks hope u guys enjoy

#vat7k #varian and the seven kingdoms #varian vat7k #hugo vat7k #nuru vat7k #yong vat7k #varian tangled #fanart #lizzysart

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leclercsainzz · 10 months

Text

MIDNIGHT RAIN PT 2

PAIRINGS: daniel ricciardo x singer!fem / horner!reader

TYPE: social media au

SUMMARY: in which they slowly make their way back to each other!

part 1 - part 2

danielricciardo

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 648,026 others

danielricciardo: so about that ….

view 17,520 comments

user: why am i not surprised?

user: SCREAMING 🫨

user: EVERYONE SAY, “THANK YOU MAX”!!!!

carlossainz55: date ehhh

maxverstapphen1: you’re welcome;)

↳ user: he’s a legend!!!

user: THE WORLD HAS HEALED!!! ✨

user: tHe scream i sCeamt

user: i cannot function

user: parEnts are finally working things out

↳ user: no more fighting over custody

ynhorner

liked by christianhorner, landonorris and 581,081 others

ynhorner: he’s not so bad, i guess 🤷🏻‍♀️ @danielricciardo

view 13,829 comments

christianhorner: you’re welcome 😌

user: SCREAMING OMG

user: max and christian are geniuses!!

user: these mf really set them up

user: the way christian thinks danny is the perfect guy for his daughter 😭

user: I CAN’T!!!

↳ user: me and you both

user: BEST MONTH SO FAR! 😭

user: @maxverstappen @christianhorner thank you, kings!!

user: i knew this day would come!!!

ynhorner

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and 562,746 others

ynhorner: my sunshine:) i would choose you over anyone else, over and over again ❤️

view 17,829 comments

user: THE SCREAM I LET OUT, OMG!!!!

↳ user: tHey’VE COME A LonG WAY!!

maxverstappen1: mission accomplished @christianhorner

↳ christianhorner: 🤝🏼

user: pARENTS ARE OFFICIALLY BACK IN BUSINESS

danielricciardo: ❤️❤️❤️

charles_leclerc: so happy for you guys!!!

user: just a reminder that max and christian really DID THAT

user: my yndaniel heart ❤️

user: soulmates, frr!!!

user: HAPPIEST MF DAY OF MY LIFE

danielricciardo

liked by estebanocon, maxverstappen1 and 639,837 others

danielricciardo: can’t imagine my life with anyone other than you ❤️

view 17,947 comments

user: MOTHER IS SERVING

user: sCREAMING!!!

user: the world is now a better place 😊

ynhorner: i loveee youuuu!!! ❤️

user: do my eyes deceive me or is that an engagement ring??!?!??

↳ user: wTF IT IS!!!!

user: IS THAT A RING I SEE ON HER FINGER!!?!??

maxverstappen1: can’t imagine my life w/o you either

user: she’s so effortlessly gorgeous!! 😍

user: is tHat a ring i see????

↳ user: i didn’T even notice

user: everyone say thanks to horner and max

user: my parents 😭

pierregasly: 🤩

ynhorner and danielricciardo

liked by charlottesiine, landonorris and 789,749 others

ynhorner: he wanted a bride, i said YES! 💍🤍

tagged: @danielricciardo

view 35,029 comments

user: I AM SCREAMING

user: totally NOT FREAKING OUT OMG AIANDKSLSB

danielricciardo: mrs. ricciardo has a nice ring to it;)

↳ ynhorner: i can already hear it, “mister and mrs ricciardo”

charlottesiine: congrats, my love!! ❤️

↳ ynhorner: 😘 i miss youuu!!

maxversteppen1: we did that!! @christianhorner

maxverstappen1: MY PARENTS!!! ☺️

↳ landonorris: our*

charles_leclerc: congratulations you two!! ❤️

therealgerihalliwell: congratulations, sweetie!! 😘

user: max is just like us, i swear

↳ user: the BIGGEST yndaniel shipper

christianhorner: my little girl is all grown up 🥺

↳ maxverstappen1: if yn and daniel adopt me, does this make you my grandfather?

↳ christianhorner: don’t push it 😐

alex_albon: congrats ☺️

redbullracing: soo happy for you both!!! ❤️

user: our parents are getting married!!! 🥳

user: WE DID IT!! WE SURVIVED THE GREAT WAR 😭

↳ user: convincing myself taylor wrote this song about them

user: danny goes back to red bull, yn releases a song about danny, they get back together, and now they’re engaged???!?! mY heart can’t take this 😭 i’m so proud of them!!!

2K notes · View notes

anneonomus · 2 years

Text

love it when ppl ask me what i’m gonna do after college. like girl hopefully stop suffering idk??

#elliot should shut up challenge #‘‘oh ur graduating soon what are your plans?’’ idk???? going back to therapy??????#like I’m sorry I don’t have time for a career rn I’m trying to get diagnosed w/ autism???? one thing at a time people #genuinely I have been living day to day for the past uhhhh four years? idk ever since I stopped having that public breakdown around like 17.#i Do Not have the capacity to worry abt anything other than getting through the day whatever happens happens I will simply live with it #like I have no other alternative I am incapable of making long term decisions rn #also my daily approach has been getting exponentially worse as it’s gone on I am nearly at max capacity!#depending on how good the new therapist is I’m either gonna figure out what I actually need to start living like a person again Or I’m gonna #have another massive meltdown then freak out abt the consequences and bottle everything up to start the cycle all over again! trying my #hardesr to prevent the second option but like. this has been repeating on an increasing scale my entire life so. if it happens it happens #wow I rlly lost it in these tags didn’t I whoops. if ur reading this dw I am functional atm and I am trying to improve my life it’s just.#difficult sometimes yknow.

0 notes

lovingmattysposts · 4 months

Text

You don't know me 2

P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: MAJOR mentions of toxic relationship, suggestive, there is one part where she guilt trips herself into doing something sexual BUT THERE IS NO DESCRIPTION OF IT ACTUALLY HAPPENING!! if that bother you it's very clear when it starts and you can just scroll past that part I was just trying to get a point across and it does not involve chris whatsoever!! nothing crazy, i promise you guys❤️ smoking, cursing, mentions of cheating

hope you guys fall in love w this series

xoxo, autumn

Max was almost passed out against the window after we dropped off Cayden and Sydney. I was staring straight through the window. Not glancing over at him. My hands gripping onto the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were turning white, trying not to think about what just occurred.

How do people do this so causally? Cheat on their significant other then feel no guilt? It's eating me alive and I did it accidentally. I felt like he knew subconsciously and was going to call me out on it at any moment, but he didn't know. There is no possible way that he could know. Yes Max was a lot at times, but he would never cheat on me. I cheated on him. God what did I do?

"Y/n"

My head snapped towards him and then back towards the road. Could he read my thoughts? I was starting to think he could. I was sweating. Freaking the fuck out. I swallowed before answering him.

"Yeah?" I whispered back. His eyebrows furrowed and he leaned over grabbing one of my hands that were tight against the steering wheel and interlocking our fingers and started massaging my hand with his. He took his other hand and slid it on the inside of the thigh and leaning his head on my shoulder. I felt myself begin to relax. I let out a shaky breath.

"What's stressing you out babe?" He asked quietly. I collected my thoughts. I can't be suspicious. I was being way too suspicious. I needed to relax, but I couldn't get myself to. "W-What do you mean?" I asked not looking at him. He moved his hand up and down my leg, attempting to sooth me. I didn't deserve him. Oh my God I'm awful. I'm an absolute awful human being. An awful girlfriend.

"You're gripping the steering wheel for dear life and you look like you're gonna puke and you've been stuttering all night" He chuckled. God no. I shook my head, finally taking a deep breath. Think of something, anything. "Just worried about Cayden" I lied shaking my head. "I feel bad for Sydney" I said leaning my head against his as I drove. He hummed. Silence fell between us.

"I'm sorry" He said silently. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked down at him. "For what?" I whispered. He didn't look up at me. He sighed and leaned up from me and took his hands off of me. "I know why you're stressed y/n/n" He said looking back at me. Heart rate quickening. Face pale-ing. Pulse weakening. I swallowed. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, trying to act like I didn't know what he was talking about.

"You think I'm mad at you for the fight" He said shaking his head. I sighed of relief but quickly recovered by looking at him nodding. Yes, that's it. You're exactly right. He frowned. "Babe I'm not mad at you. But you have to know that people expect you to come to my games. If people notice that you aren't coming they might think we had broken up or something. That doesn't look good on me" He frown. Asshole. I bit my tongue. Pick your battles. Pick your battles y/n. "I don't want people thinking you're available" He chuckled. I forced myself to laugh at him, then quickly shut my mouth.

"I'm sorry too" I said genuinely. I'm so sorry Max. He leaned over and kissed my cheek and went back to leaning his head on my shoulder. "For what?" He breathed as he began to kiss my shoulder up to my neck. I sighed.

For cheating on you.

"For giving you a hard time about the game. I'll go. I know you want me there so I'm gonna go and I won't give you trouble about it again" I said giving in yet again. Mostly because of my guilt. I didn't want him to question me.

"That's my girl" He whispered. He replaced his hand on my leg, moving it up higher this time, rubbing his thumb back and forth slowly. He was still kissing my neck. "Are we almost there?" He whispered as he kissed me. I let out a shaky breath.

"I'm pulling into my neighborhood" I whispered quietly. A few seconds later I was pulling into my driveway. Max stumbled out of the car as we walked up to my front door and I put in the code, letting us inside. He walked in after me and shut the door. The house was dark, quiet. To be fair it was past 2 in the morning at this point. I looked around for any sign of my parents. I felt Max come up behind me and pull me against him. He bent his head down his kissed my neck from behind before leaning up and pressing his lips against my ear.

"Where are your parents?" He whispered. I swallowed. "Asleep" I whispered back. He hummed back before grabbing my hand and walking me up the stairs to my room. I couldn't shake the thoughts no matter how hard I tried to. Chris. His lips. My lips. How he tasted. It should be illegal. The things that I'm thinking of this boy that I don't even know. A boy that's not even my boyfriend.

What was he thinking right now? Did he think that I just kissed him because I just genuinely wanted to cheat on my boyfriend? I'm not that kind of girl. I didn't want him to think I was that kind of girl. I'm not a bad person. I never step out of line. I never did the wrong thing. I always apologized even when I probably shouldn't have. I obeyed my parents. I obeyed my boyfriend. I was loyal. I was faithful. I have a reputation to keep.

I was blinded my anger. I wasn't thinking. I acted on my emotions. What did he think when he saw me with Max right after? Was he going to talk? Was he going to tell Max? Brag about it to his friends? Was Nate going to talk? God I was freaking out.

I had to talk to Chris. I have to convince him not to tell anyone. He went to my school, I've seen him around before. Fuck it was Saturday. I had to wait until at least Monday before I could even see him again. He could ruin my entire life by Monday.

Stress. Anxiety. Guilt.

He has all the power in the world to ruin my life in the next 48 hours, and there was nothing I can do about it. Max would break up with me. My parents would shun me for screwing up my relationship with an Hastings. I would lose my friends. I would be known as a cheater. My reputation would be ruined. Chris has my life in his hands right now and there was nothing I could do about it until Monday.

Max led me into my room and I turned and closed the door. He sighed before walking over to my bed and laying back on it. I leaned up on his elbows as I turned back around and looked at him. He smiled at me. I smiled back. I needed to do this. Maybe this could make me feel less guilty about the situation I've found myself in. I love Max. I do. I love him.

I walked over to him before climbing on top of him and sitting on his lap looking down at him. He just looked up at me. "Whatcha doing baby?" He asked reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I smiled down at him. I reached my hands under his shirt and ran my hands up his body. He just watched me. I shrugged. "Nothing" I whispered. I leaned down and started kissing his neck slowly. He groaned and placed his hands on my leg and moved them up before placing his hands on my ass pulling me up against his hips instead of his legs.

"Thought you didn't want to hook up after I drink" He mumbled. Yeah, I don't. Not at all actually. I hate it, but I feel so guilty I can't think of anything else to make me feel less guilty other than to prove that I actually I love you right now Max. "I changed my mind" I whispered before leaning up and connecting our lips. He stuck his tongue directly into my mouth. I hated when he did that. Straight to the point huh? No build up? Alright. Chris didn't do that.

Stop. Y/n. What are you doing? Change your thought process right now.

I grind my hips against his making him groan into my mouth. He parted our lips. "Eager are we?" He smiled. Eager to forget this night ever happened, yes. I smiled and nodded. He smiled and but his hand on my cheek. "Just want to show you how much I love you" I whispered. He smiled. He looked down at our position.

"Will you stay on top?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I wanted to groan. I wanted to hang my head and complain. No I don't want to stay on top. I hated being on top. I never finished that way, not that Max knew that or ever noticed. I liked being taken care of, not the one doing the taking care of. I swallowed my pride and nodded smiling.

"Of course" I smiled leaning down and connecting our lips. Whatever made this move along as quickly as possible. He reached up under my shirt and took off my bra. I disconnected our lips before shrugging off my bra and taking it off under my shirt and throwing it on the floor. He smiled leaning up against my headboard. He reached under my shirt before feeling me up and leaning against my lips.

"God, you're so hot" He mumbled against my lips. Beautiful? No, I'm hot. Y/n stop. Why was I dreading this so much? It wasn't normally like this. I normally some-what enjoyed this. Sometimes. I forced a smile and reached down and started to undo his belt with my hands as we kissed.

"Condom" I whispered against him. He parted my lips and groaned. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. He rested his head against my headboard. "Can we go without?" He asked looking at me. I scoffed. Yeah this is where I draw the line. I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry enough to risk getting pregnant, I'm only 18. It gave me too much anxiety to go without. The last time we went without I bought two plan B's and took five pregnancy tests within the span of two days. I wasn't pregnant but the thought scared the shit out of me. I shook my head.

"No" I said looking at him. His demeanor changed. It turned cold. This is why I don't hook up with him when he drinks. He can change emotions in a matter of seconds. If he was sober he probably wouldn't fight me on this. It would be me that it affects if something went wrong. Not him. He should understand.

"But you're on the pill" He said looking at me. I leaned back. "I don't care" I said looking at him. Were using a condom or were not doing this at all. He groaned again. Like a child being told he can't get the toy he wanted. He's 18 years old. Man up and use the Goddamn condom. He frowned at me. If I wasn't doing this to feel less guilty I would yell at him and say forget it.

"Do you want to be a dad?" I asked glaring at him. He narrowed his eyes at me and licked his lips. He looked me up and down before grabbing my neck and pulling my lips back to mine. Another thing when he drinks, he's more aggressive and I hate it. I kept kissing him but reached up and pulled the hand that was around my neck off.

Don't do that I hate it. I wanted to say but I kept kissing him. He reached down between us and started undoing the rest of his belt before pulling it off and throwing it on the floor.

He started undoing this zipper when I pulled away. I looked at him with stern eyes. "Come on Y/n" He groaned. This was starting to hurt my feelings. "No" I whispered. He sighed before looking away. "Then I don't even want to do this" He said looking at me.

Wow. I felt a lump in my throat. You know how to make me feel so special Max.

"Why?" I whispered afraid that if I spoke any louder that tears would start forming. He bit on his bottom lip looking down at me. He shook his head.

He wasn't normally like this. Whenever I demanded a condom, he would gripe and moan, yes, but he always obliged. It's because he's drunk. Add it to the list of reasons that I don't do anything when he's drunk. When he doesn't get what he wants he turned mean, cold.

I looked away from him attempting to swallow the lump in my throat. I slid off of him and sat next to him on the bed and sighed. "Can you do something though?" He asked turning his head towards me. I looked at him.

Is he serious right now? I just looked at him. I wanted to yell at him. Tell him this is exactly why I don't do this when he's drinking. That he's proving my former decision correct, but it wouldn't be worth it. He wouldn't listen.

"Can you top me off at least?" He asked looking at me. At least? I closed my eyes getting ready to scream at him. He knows I hate doing that. Makes me feel gross. It's not something I enjoy. We'd been dating a year and I've done it maybe two times.

You cheated on him tonight y/n. My mind raced. Guilt filled me again. I looked at him and nodded, forcing a smile. He smiled down at me before kissing my forehead. I wanted to cry. I hated this. Why did I put myself in this position?

"Thanks babe" He breathed. I nodded before sitting up and leaning down over top of him again.

I'm never letting myself feel guilty enough to do this ever again.

Max's been asleep for a while now. I can tell because of the way he's breathing. Not me. I'm wide away staring at the wall as I laid against my pillow. I'd gotten up to brush my teeth three times. I fucking hated it. I felt tears start to form in my eyes. I feel so bad for cheating on him, yes. But not as bad as I felt about the fact that the entire time I was doing it I was thinking about Chris.

I was thinking about his laugh, the way his lips tasted, the way he looked at me when he saw me with Max. All of it and it was overwhelming. I wondered what Chris was doing right now. Was he asleep? Was he wide awake like me? Did he even think twice about me? About our kiss? Was he hurt? Did he not care? Does he even know my name? I never even told him.

I sighed reaching up and wiping my eyes. I just need to talk to him. To close this so I can stop feeling like this. I finally closed my eyes allowing this horrible day to come to an end.

Chris pov

Nate and I had gotten back to my house over two hours ago. It was around 3 in the morning now. We were sitting on my back porch. "Are you even going to acknowledge what happened back there?" He asked me. My eyes shifted over to him and back to the fire in front of us. I licked my lips. No I wasn't. I was hoping to forget about it actually.

"You've barely said a word since we've gotten back and you've smoke like five more cigarettes" He said looking at me. He's right. I don't normally smoke as much as I have tonight. I've almost smoked an entire pack. But I can't stop thinking about how she took the cigarette out of my hand and the way she wrapped her lips around the one that was just previously in my mouth.

I swallowed and sighed throwing the last cigarette on the ground that was only half gone. Nate looked down at the cigarette then back up at me. "Talk to me. We have to tell her bitch ass boyfriend right?" He asked looking at me. I looked up at him. "No" I said sternly. He threw his hands up.

"Why not?" He asked suddenly, annoyed at my response. "We're not telling anyone okay? There's no reason to get involved" I said looking at my hands. He huffed. Nate is definitely the one that stirs up the most trouble out of the two of us. I'm the one that fixes his messes.

He pisses someone off and I'm the one that ends up having to fight them. It's fine. I'm happy to protect my friend. That being said when we both agree how to handle something the other one has to oblige. It's how this friendship works. It's why we're so close. Why we're basically brothers.

He leaned back against the chair shaking his head. "Think about the look on his face when we tell him that your tongue was down his girlfriend's throat, it would be gold" He said looking at me. My eyes snapped up to his. "I said no. That's final. Drop it" I said sternly. He bit his lip and sighed turning away from me.

I knew Nate was thinking the same thing as me. Why did you do that? I don't know. I hated all of them. The ultimate assholes, of all assholes. The rich bitches. I hated all of them, they all looked down on me. On everyone else that wasn't them. The party was full of them. That's why I didn't want to go, but I saw her. From across the room. Her asshole boyfriend was basically groping her in a room full of people. I couldn't help but look. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she attempted to get out of his grip.

Her eyes fell onto mine, I wanted to look away but I couldn't. Her gaze was strong. I couldn't look away if I tried. I recognized her. She was a Labraut. Their only daughter. They held the biggest law firm in the state of Michigan. They were the richest people in town, with the white house on the corner of Henderson and Alfred pike. The one with the 'L's' plastered on the doors and the gate that led up the driveway.

She was wearing a white dress and shoes that were so ugly that they had to be expensive. I thought it was funny that she wore a dress to a party. It was cute. It looked like she was dress more for a formal event than a house party, but then again it was a rich people party. Yet despise the fact that she was dressed to the nines, hair perfectly curled, she looked miserable. She looked tired. Annoyed. Mad. Until she looked at me and her demeanor shifted. She studied me until she decided to looked away.

Just her gaze made me feel vulnerable. I needed a smoke. I went outside. She came outside a few minutes later. She didn't notice me leaned up against the wall. I watched her for a second. Her head was tilted up, looking at the sky. I looked up, looking for what could be so interesting in the sky. It was just a sky. But she studied it, like she studied me earlier. I didn't want her to turn around and see me watching her so I walked up to her.

I scared the shit out of her. I have that effect on most people, so I was used to that reaction. Her voice wasn't what I was expecting. I don't know what I was imagining. Girls normally steer clear of me. They think I'm scary I guess. They all love Nate though. I'd be jealous, but I didn't really care. I wasn't interested. Yet, she intrigued me. It made me happy that a guy was all over her and she was less than interested. I don't know why. I think it was because it was Hastings, but if you're dating the guy, you can't be much better of a person.

So I gave her kind of a hard time. I don't regret it, kind of. I think now I do. If you have to deal with a guy like Max 24/7 I don't think you should get shit from anyone else either. Max was enough. She yelled at me. I found it amusing. From the choice of words It doesn't sound like she yelled at people very much, it was a cute attempt. I backed off, only a little. Still called her princess, because that's how she's always treated. Like a goddamn princess.

I could see the glimmer in her eye slightly when I said it but she quickly turned away from me. Told me to stop calling her that. It caught me off guard, the glimmer, so I stayed looking at her. Did she like that? Her face lit up in a shade of pink and she looked away. The way she blushed I felt it in my stomach. I covered it up by looking away.

Her annoying bot of a friend comes bursting out of the house to drag her away. I watched her as she was pulled away from next to me. I wondered to myself if she would look back at me. Give me even a second glance or if she was just speaking to me because I was standing right there. To my surprise she did. I just looked at her before she disappeared back into the house. Somewhere that I never wanted to enter ever again. A bunch of rich kids getting drunk, not my idea of fun.

As I finished the last of my second cigarette, which I would go on to finish six more, I wondered to myself if we would ever come in contact again. She didn't even ask my name, but she didn't tell me hers either. I guess she assumed I knew it. I did, it was Y/n. Everyone knew her name, and If they didn't know her first name they definitely knew her last.

Nate found me shortly after I escape the inside and after Y/n left. I didn't tell him about the interaction because I knew he would push me on it. I didn't liked being pushed. He rambled on about how at the last hockey game, they kept giving him penatlties for bullshit calls. I just listened as he rambled. I've learned that when Nate gets into rants, he doesn't want solutions, he just wants someone to listen and nod and throw in the occasional "That sucks. No yeah, you're definitely right".

He was deep in a story when someone came bursting through the back door again. I turned and saw Y/n walking towards me. I didn't want Nate thinking that I was being somewhat nice to her because of how much shit I talk about her kind of people.

So I threw out the first insult I thought of, it wasn't nice. I regret that. It wasn't cool. She didn't give me attitude back like I expected. No, instead she marched right up to me. I didn't step away as I looked down at her. There was a different look in her eyes. She was angry. For a second I thought she was going to smack the shit out of me.

I started to think I should probably back up, but she reached up and took the cigarette out of my hand. What was the deal with her and me smoking? It wasn't your lungs. I just watched her. She brought it up to her lips without hesitation, taking me by surprise. I looked down at her about to question the fact that she was inhaling nicotine and tobacco after giving me a quick health lesson earlier, when she reached her hand up to me, again I think to smack the shit out of me.

She didn't.

The next thing I know we're engulfed in one another's mouth. It was slow for a second, I was shocked. The last thing I expected was for her to kiss me. Her lips tasted like cherry lip gloss. It was heaven. They were so soft. How does Hastings get so lucky to kiss these lips everyday? Fuck. Hastings. She has a fucking boyfriend.

I almost pull away when I felt her tug on my lip ring. Oh my God. I hummed, muffling a moan. No one has ever done that before. I got lost again, the thought of her boyfriend leaving my head. I swipe my tongue in her mouth. Like a cigarette.

I pulled her against me as we kissed, completely forgoing the fact that there are two other people watching us devour each other. Her hands went up to my hair pulling slightly on the strands. I breathed in. All preconceived ideas I had of her were now out of the window. A bad person can't be this good of a kisser. I've convinced myself of this.

"Y/n!" Her friend said making her part from me. I could have killed her friend for making her stop kissing me the way she was. I didn't let her go when she parted from me. We both just looked at each other. I think both shocked that that just happened. My arm dropped from her back and she pulled her hands off my hair. Her eyes shifted from mine to her friends.

"Alright then" Nate said from behind me. If I could tell him telepathically to shut up, oh my god Nate shut the hell up. She turned from me and started walking towards her friend. She quickly snapped back around. Her cheeks were red and she looked disoriented. I could have fallen to my knees. Embarrassingly.

Instead, I kept my composure. "What was your name again?" She smiled, breathless. This would have offended me, but the way she looked clogged my mind instead.

"Chris" I was able to breathe by the grace of God. She nodded and turned around grabbing her friend and walking back inside. I didn't immediately turn to Nate, knowing how red my face probably was.

I reached up attempting to fix my hair. "What the hell was that?" Nate asked after a few seconds. I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to wipe the smile off my face. I can't show how much that effected me. I turned around with a straight face.

"I have no idea" I shrugged. He just stared at me and then his eyes shifted to the door then back at me. He was speechless, and believe me I was too. He looked down at his feet then back up at me. "So you were saying" I said clearing my throat. He looked at me with wide eyes and shook his head. He laughed lightly. I bit back a smile.

"No I was interested, please keep going. So the empire said..?" I coughed. Please take the focus off me. "The referee!" He corrected me. I shook my head laughing. "Right the referee" I said looking at him. He smiled and rolled his eyes and started on his story again. I wasn't listening, I was trying to fight the urge to march into the party and find her and beg her to let me relive that moment.

Anything to feel like that again. But I couldn't, and I wouldn't. It's not really in character for me. Was it a one time thing? My mind started to race. Her boyfriend. Did they break up? Why did she march out here and kiss me? Why was she so angry? Why did she kiss me like that? I finally started to calm myself down and my face was no longer red when I heard the door open again a few minutes later.

I looked over and saw some guy with blonde hair throwing his guts up into the grass and the girl I recognized to be Y/n's friend leaned down next to him, yelling at him. I almost laughed when I turned and met Y/n's eyes. Then her boyfriend's. I involuntarily felt his presence in my chest. All of the good feelings that that kiss just gave me dropped to my feet as her eyes wouldn't meet mine for more than a second. She stood behind him with her eyes directed to her feet.

I wanted to scoff. I wanted to yell at her. I wanted to shake my head. They hadn't broken up. They were in fact still together. He was right there. What was I thinking? I don't even know this girl and she's exactly who I expected her to be. I just looked at her waiting for her to look at me. To face the fucking consequences to her actions that I doubt she had ever before. But she didn't look at me. Her boyfriend did though.

"What are you looking at freak?" He spat at me. I wanted to smile and shake my head. These people, I swear. Why do I try? I stopped giving people the benefit of the doubt a long goddamn time ago. Why did I suddenly want to start now? They were all exactly the same. Stuck up, entitled assholes. Every last one of them. I looked at Nate and motioned and him towards the back gate. I was done with this. I needed to get out of here. I turned and he looked at her shaking his head. I grabbed his arm violently pulling him with me telling him "Let's go." sternly.

We walked home. It was a far walk. "I didn't realize that was Y/n LaBraut" Nate said as we walked down the street. I shrugged looking down at my feet as we walked. Why did I kiss her back? What was I thinking? I fell into her so instantly. What is wrong with me? Giving someone like her what she wanted in that moment.

I'm just like everyone else. Giving in because she's her and she wanted it so she got it. Fuck that. I kicked a rock down the street. I didn't talk much on the walk home. I didn't have much to say. I was disappointed in myself. Giving into it so easily. Wanting more. I shook my head at myself as we walked. I can't believe I let myself kiss her of all people for my first kiss in three years. The first one, after her.

She's probably shaking her head at me right now. I wish I could apologize somehow.

That brings us to right now. I suddenly felt bad for snapping at him. He looked down at his lap. "And stop talking about my tongue it's weird bro" I said chuckling shaking my head. He laughed lightly across from me. As good as I would feel to see the look on Hasting's face to let him know the way his girlfriend's hands were tangled in my hair drove me crazy, something about the way that she hid behind him in defeat doesn't sit right with me.

I felt like there was something deeper to the reason she decided to kiss me, but it wasn't any of my business. So I wasn't looking to make it my business. I had enough problems that I didn't need to add rich people drama to the list.

"You know" Nate said looking up at me. I looked over at him. "That was the first girl you've kissed since.." He trailed off. I loved Nate. I really did. But sometimes he didn't know when to shut up. Which is why I had to fight someone new every other week, normally another hockey player he got into it with. I looked down at my feet.

"How are you feeling about...that" He whispered. I clenched my jaw, staring at the ground. I wanted another cigarette to relieve the stress, but I restricted myself. I'd smoked more than enough tonight. I stayed silent. I took a deep breath before standing up off the metal chair. Nate looked up at me.

"It's getting late" I said looking at him. He looked sadly at me. "You staying?" I asked pointing towards the house. He stood up, shaking his head. "No, I'm gonna head back. Told my mom I'd come home at some point" He smiled. I nodded looking over to my house. Nate stepped toward me.

"Look man" He started. I looked at him. "I'm sorry, I won't mention it again" He said quietly. I didn't say anything and just looked at him. "I just worry about you sometimes" He said half smiling sadly at me. I nodded. I know he's worried about me. Another thing about Nate, he doesn't hide what he's thinking very well. I know he cares, I just wish he wouldn't talk about it.

"I'm fine Nate" I mumbled. He nodded and looked toward my gate. "I'm gonna head out then" He said motioning towards the gate. I nodded walking towards my house. "I'll pick you up Monday for school" I said looking at him. He laughed walking towards my gate before raising his hands. "Thanks Mom!" He yelled.

I laughed and shook my head walking in the backdoor of my house, quietly. I didn't want to wake up my grandpa who was sound asleep on the lounge chair in the living room. He fell asleep there more often than not. He was a heavy sleeper though, still I didn't want to risk waking him up.

I stepped past him and down the hall into my room. I closed the door before letting go of a breath I didn't know I was holding. I walked over to my bed before crashing into it. Everything was sore. Nate and I had walked to that party. I didn't even want to go, Nate did. I went because he wanted to.

The alternative was staying here and me and my grandpa got into a fight earlier and I didn't want to stay here. He found cigarette buds in the backyard. He told me that It would kill me if I smoked. Y/n said the same thing to me tonight.

I sighed as I kicked off my shoes and laid my head against my pillow and closed my eyes. I felt like I could only see the look on her face from earlier. The fear. The regret. The sadness. Not going to lie, it kind of hurt. After you kiss someone, correction, someone kisses you, you don't really want a look of regret afterwards. But she smiled. When we were kissing she smiled against my lips. The way her hands went up to my hair. The way she felt pressed against me. I can still feel it.

I snapped my eyes open and turned looking up at the ceiling. I looked down and felt myself becoming half-hard just thinking about it. I groaned covering my hands with my face. I can't be thinking about her like this. She's one of them. I need a cold shower or something. I've gotta stop using smoking as an outlet. I stood up off my bed and walked in my bathroom before turning on the shower. I sighed before stepping in and letting the warm water roll down my back.

I wondered what she was doing right now. Was she asleep? Was she wide awake like me? Did she even think twice about me after? Or did she kiss her boyfriend and forget all about the incident? I wondered if she felt bad for what she did. To me, or to her asshat of a boyfriend even. Or if she did it all the time and I was not a special occasion. Why do I even care? I need sleep. I reached over and turned off the shower.

I'll be damned if I ever let myself give in that easily ever again.

y/n pov

I've been looking for him all day. Every class. Every corner. I even stalked the boy's bathroom after 3rd period. He was nowhere. Is he even here today? God, please be here. I've been a nervous wreck the last two days. Max's acted normal. So I'm guessing he doesn't know. It hasn't gotten back to him. Yet, at least. He didn't apologize for the way he acted that night either. The next morning I found him eating breakfast downstairs with my parents. I would allow myself to be mad at him, but I couldn't. Not with this cloud of guilt still hanging over my head.

"Who are you looking for?" Max laughed. I jumped turning around and seeing Max. I laughed lightly trying to compose myself. Think. Think. "You of course" I smiled up at him, putting my hand on his chest. His eyebrows furrowed. "You know I have Sterling 5th period" He said pointing at Mr. Sterlings door across the hall. I pointing at the door and then at him.

"Right! Slipped my mind" I laughed lightly, swallowing. He shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?" He shook his head smiling and wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the hall. Still, I searched for Chris. No sign.

Max and I walked into the lunch room and then over to our usual table where Sydney and Cayden were sitting. They were bickering again. They fought a lot and if they weren't fighting they were all over one another. It was a weird complex they had going on, but it worked for them I guess. I sat down across from them.

"Hey" I breathed looking at them. Sydney looked at me. "Please tell Cayden that my parents would not let him borrow their jet for the weekend to go see the lakers game" She glared at me. I spend my mouth to speak but Cayden cut me off. "It's the final four! We're court-side!" He argued. She huffed. "Where's yours Cayden?" Max asked looking at him. Cayden went silent and he looked down.

"It's uh in the shop" He said not looking up. Sydney glared at him. "It is not in the shop, you got your private jet privileges because you took it to fly to Miami for the weekend to see Drake perform at Rolling Loud!" She yelled at him. God this argument is making my head spin. I looked over at Max whose eyebrows were raised watching them fight. He looked at me and shook his head.

"You came with me!" He said at her. Her hands flew up. "You told me your parents were okay with it!" She yelled back. I held my hands up. "Guys stop please. My head, it's hurting" I said shaking my head. "It was still worth it" He said shaking his head. She looked over at him. "Was Drake even performing?" She asked crossing her arms. He hung his head in defeat. "No, I looked at last year's lineup" He said looking down. Sydney looked over at us with her hands up. I smiled shaking my head.

"I know you guys aren't fighting over who's private jet to take to court-side at a lakers game" I said shaking my head. I'm starting to understand why people hate us. I hate us sometimes. First world problems people, people are dying. Sydney and Cayden looked at each other and laughed. "It was still worth it though, because we had sex on the rooftop of-" He started to say, but Sydney hit him in the shoulder. Her face turned blood red.

Cayden looked at her and rubbed his shoulder. "What?" He whined. God, this needs to stop. I looked around the cafeteria, still in search for Chris. I looked behind Sydney and saw him and Nate eating at a table a little father back. Relief and fear struck me all at once. It's now or never. I just have to talk to him and pray he's told no one about what happened at the party. Max was still watching Cayden and Sydney, sometimes it's like a reality tv show.

"Hey babe, can you go get me a drink?" I asked looking over at him. He looked down at me and groaned. "It's so far" He whined. Exactly. It was the farthest point from our table. It gives me time. I glared at him. "Hey, I'm kidding. I'm kidding, I'll go" He said kissing the top of my head and standing up. I looked over at Sydney who was now pouting and looking away from Cayden.

She looked at me. My eyes went wide as I motioned to Cayden and then Max who was standing. Her eyebrows furrowed and then she looked at Max who was starting to walk away. Her eyes went wide and she nodded and turned to Cayden. "Me too babe, get me a drink?" Her demeanor changed intensely toward him. He lifted his head and looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"You just told me you hated me" He said shaking his head. "I was kidding. I love you, now drink? Please?" She said pushing him. He sighed shaking his head before getting up and walking away. I watched him until he was out of ear-shot. Sydney leaned forward to me.

"What?" She whispered. I swallowed before looking behind her to Chris who was still sitting there talking to Nate. "I need to go talk to Chris" I whispered back. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Who's Chris?" She asked back. I hit her from across the table. "Ow" She whispered back. "The guy" I whispered. She shook her head not understanding. Oh my God.

"I one i...." I tried off with wide eyes. Her face dropped as she looked around. She leaned forward again. "Are you crazy? In public?" She whispered back. I shrugged. "I don't have another time! I have to make sure he doesn't talk" I said back. She licked her lips and looked around.

"Okay go, quick!" She whispered. I nodded before quickly standing up and walking over to Chris's table. Adrenaline filled me as I walked towards their table, fear of being seen by Max, but it faded once Nate's eyes noticed me before Chris's.

He hit Chris's arm and motioned to me and he looked up at me right when I approached the table. I swallowed. I forgot what his gaze did to me. The way it felt. God, why are my legs shaking? It's just some random kid.

"Can I help you?" Chris asked after a few seconds looking at me. Fuck, I forgot to speak. I cleared my throat as I looked at him. "Can I talk to you?" I asked quietly. Thank god it was only them at this table. Chris looked at Nate who shook his head. I wanted to flip him off but I needed Chris to talk to me. I needed to explain myself and make sure we were on the same page.

Chris looked back up at me and sighed. "How about, fuck off?" Nate said looking at me. Ouch. I furrowed my eyebrows. Chris glared at him and elbowed him in the side. "Ow" Nate said glaring at him.

I didn't blame him for saying that, I'd tell me to fuck off too. I would tell him that, but my throat was dry. I don't remember being this nervous last time I was in his presence. Before the kiss at least. I just stayed silent standing in front of them, playing with my fingers feeling the beat of my heart more clearly the longer I stood here.

Chris looked back up at me. I looked down at his lips, his lip ring. Oh my God. I can still feel it pressed against my lips. The coldness of it. The way it felt between my teeth. I-. I stopped myself snapping myself out of my thoughts and looked back up at his eyes.

He motioned for me to start talking. I looked at Nate who was looking at me, unimpressed. "N-Not here" I quickly said feeling the pressure of Nate's presence. "Somewhere private" I said looking at Nate and then back at Chris.

Chris pursed his lips before looking at Nate and then back at me. Chris looked down and looked over at a napkin before grabbing it and placing it in front of him. He felt his pockets before looking at Nate and holding out his hand.

"Pen" He said looking at him. Nate leaned his head forward. "Dude. Come on" He said looking at Chris. God this boy really hates me. I wanted to walk away and say never mind and just pray to God that he doesn't say anything, but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to move my feet. I needed to speak to him one way or another. To apologize at least.

"Pen" Chris said again more sternly. Nate glared at him for a second before mumbling something and reaching in his bag. I was surprised by Chris's tone. It almost scared me and he wasn't even speaking to me. I guess that was his reputation. Bad boy, anger, hostile, aggressive.

Yet, I wondered to myself how could someone with those eyes be mean at heart? I don't think he could be. I wanted to shake my head at my thoughts. It's not your job to figure that out Y/n.

Nate pulled out a pen before handing it to Chris. Chris took it out of his hands. I looked over to our table. Max and Cayden weren't back yet and Sydney was watching me, taping her fingers aggressively on the table.

I turned back at Chris who had the pen on the napkin, but hadn't written anything yet. He looked up at me through his eyelids. I gave him a pleading look. He sighed before looking back down at the paper and scribbling something on it. He clicked the pen, putting it on the table before picking up the napkin and handing it to me.

"Come after 5" He said looking at me. I took the napkin and smiled at him. "Thank you" I whispered before turning on my heals and walking quickly back over to my table. I sat down across from Sydney, holding the paper in my hand. "So?" She quickly said. I looked down at the napkin and sighed. "I'm going to the address after 5" I said looking up at her. Her face turned shocked.

"To his house? Are you crazy? What are you thinking?" She quickly said. I shook my head shaken up from this whole experience. "I don't know! I need to talk to him!" I said back. She threw her hands up. "Why didn't you talk to him over there!" She asked back violently. I shook my head. "I couldn't! His friend was trying to kill me with his eyes!" I said motioning to the table. She turned around and looked at them and then back at me.

"His eyes? Y/n-"

"Drink" A voice said from above me setting down a drink in front of me. I looked up and saw Max. I smiled up at him, widely to avoid any questions of what we were just talking about. I slid the napkin in my hand into the pocket of my jeans. He leaned down and kissed my head before sitting next to me.

"What did we miss?" Max asked looking at me smiling. "Nothing" Sydney and I both said at the same time. We looked at each other. Max furrowed his eyebrows and looked between us. "Okay" He said shaking his head. Cayden came around setting a sprite in front of her.

"Sprite really Cayden? Do you hate me or something?" She yelled at him. He just looked at her with a shocked face, holding his hands up. "What did I do?" He asked her. She groaned and started yelling at him some more. I sighed and leaned my head on Max's shoulder. Here we go again.

tag list: @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @paper-crab @chrisolivia4l @mwah0mwah @recklesssturniolo @ejswift @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @oversturn @ghostgurlswrld @flowerxbunnie @ilytrinsworld @lustfulslxt @kiarastromboli @gemofthenight @blahbel668 @haunted-headset @sturnybabes @bethsturn @d3adlyclassrat @sturnybabes @mattsbitch @chrisluvbot @nickenthusiast @sturniolossmut @biimpanicking @iloveneilperry @chalametbich @dsmja @bernardsleftbootycheek @lovingsturniolo @aoxash @idrkk-123 @gingerbreadgodofhyperdeath @babagurlrichey

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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non-stop-imagines · 8 months

Text

Be My Baby

Prequel to Repeat That

From this, this, this, this, and this request!💖

Word Count: ~11k words w/ smau

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Black Content Creator!Reader ( Halle Bailey face claim)

Warning: Smut (p in v, masturbation (?),), Soft!Dom and protective Max, reader going into a subspace for the first time and Max handling it like a champ, Twitter Environment, mention of food, mention of alcohol, Max yearning literally the entire way through 😘 Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: Round of applause everyone! It's here! It's done! You all need to pat yourselves on the back for getting me through this. It was literally the most stressful yet enjoyable thing to write, because, fun fact I am a perfectionist when I am doing this for other people and I just wanted this to be all you ever hoped for. Hope you all popped your popcorn, got out a blanket, and have the lights down low. LOVE YOU ALL SO FREAKING GOSH DARN MUCH!!!💖💛💖💛💖 (Also I didn't write the fic from the song but it came on while on my way to work and I was like "wow, this is perfect")

A/N 2: All of the pictures used for the smau portions are all from pinterest and are not my own product.

Masterlist

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babygurlyn

Liked by f1 and 78,917 others

babygurlyn Stay tuned! 👀🏎️

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user1 She goin on side quests now??

user2 Finna stunt on that entire paddock in that outfit 💖😫

f1 👀👀

>babygurlyn Excited for my first race!🤩

>f1 Excited to have you 😁

user3 Okay but imagine one of the drivers falling in love with her so she can drop her punk ass dude 🫥

>user4 My money is on Lando 🧍🏼‍♀️

"You guys, I don't know how, I definitely don't know why, but we are here. Where is here you ask? Well if you didn't pay attention to the title of the video, I am in Miami for the inaugural Formula 1…hold on there's and entire name. Give me a second." You hold up a finger to your camera and reach into your fanny pack that you had strapped across your body for your phone, opening up your browser. "Formula 1 Crypto.com Miami Grand Prix." You smile back at the camera as you clumsily replace your phone back in the pack. "Like I said before, I'm not completely sure why I was chosen to attend because I have NEVER watched Formula 1, but you guys have heard me yell at my boyfriend for having it on too loud while I'm recording, so maybe that has something to do with it. Either way, thank you to Formula 1 for the invite, can't wait to learn about the sport in person" After one last bright smile to the camera, you stop the camera and drop your arm, a chipper smile still on your face as you practically bounce to the turnstiles to enter the paddock, in awe of the number of people, large buildings, and TV cameras through the area. You look for the group you were with, various other famous content creators invited to the Grand Prix, but have no luck as the crowd of people thickened, which seemed surprising to you. "Shouldn't some of these kids be at school? It's Friday!" You mildly whisper to yourself as you look for any sign of familiarity. You walk further into the area, starting to pass by the previously mentioned buildings, politely smiling at people but neglecting to ask for assistance. You initially were actively looking for the group you were with, but after a long stint of time with no familiar face, you just counted your losses and began to explore the area on your own.

Now, while you were unsure as to why you were chosen to attend the grand prix, and had absolutely no idea how Formula 1 works, you’ve always been fascinated. You would watch races in passing, as your boyfriend would have the TV hemmed up every race weekend, and have watched him play the video game a couple times, but you’ve been too afraid to ask how everything worked, not wanting to be called stupid or anything else for inquiring about something that you genuinely wanted to know more about. So being here, seeing a race weekend in person, alone, was honestly exactly what you needed, as long as you keep your ringer off so as to not have your text tone be a constant nuisance.

You decided that if you were going to explore everything yourself, it might as well be on camera, so lift up your vlogging camera which was strapped to your wrist and hit record. “Okay so…I lost everyone. I was vlogging and didn’t realize the group left and so technically I am lost. BUT I should be able to find where I need to go and you guys are going to come with me." You continue to walk further into the paddock, looking around for anything that may be able to point you in the correct direction. Somewhere along your journey, you found yourself venturing between buildings passing boxes and stacks of tires. "Okay, I'm starting to think that I'm not supposed to be here. It feels very top secret." You take another look at the cases, paying attention to the logo. "Red Bull? Like the drink?" You keep walking, camera facing you, and you looking everywhere but forward, fascinated by the behind the scenes glimpse that you were getting. Unfortunately, this meant you were blindly walking forward, unaware of the person walking the opposite direction who tried to stop for you, but you still crashed into them, bouncing back and beginning to fall backwards due to the force you walked into them with. Luckily, the unknown person was able to quickly reach around you to keep you upright, loosening their grip once they're sure you're steady on your feet, but still keeping their hands on your waist.

You look up into blue eyes, widened from the shock of the sudden interaction, messy blond hair and slightly parted pink lips that confirms the look of concern. "Sorry."

"That's okay." You were an angel to Max. It was the look of your wide brown eyes, the depth and darkness of your irises enhancing their bright innocent look, and adding to the bubbly aura you exuded. He felt the need to grin or smile at you because you were looking up at him like a scared puppy, waiting for punishment.

"I should've been watching where I was going. I really am sorry. Geez, I always do that, get too wrapped up in everything else and I don't pay attention to what's around me." You continue to grumble to yourself as you lift up your camera to stop your vlog recording.

"Hey, really, it's okay. I'm fine, still intact." Max finally lifted his hands from your waist to motion up and down his body, a gesture that makes you chuckle, lifting the mood slightly, before you continue to look around, trying to figure out where you came from. "Uh, quick question," Max's voice reminds you of his presence, his looming height still watching you curiously. You nod, allowing him to continue with his question. "Do you know who I am?" You tilt your head to the question that was posed with genuine wonder. You seemed so unphased by his presence, and he would think that even a person who disliked him would have reacted, negatively or otherwise.

"Oh, no I- are you security!? Because I really just got lost, I'm not trying to steal secrets or anything. This is my first race, I wouldn't know what secrets to steal-"

"Hey, it's fine. It was a stupid question. Uh, so, this is your first race? Have you watched Formula 1 before?" Max's arm props up the other as he reflexively scratches at his neck with a singular finger.

"Yeah, but I've never watched Formula 1 before. My boyfriend does though, I just…I don't know. I feel like he would make fun of me if I asked him about it so I've refrained." Your eyes venture down from his face for the first time, giving you a glimpse of the race suit he had on, like the ones in the couple of driver photos you noticed on the way in. "I like your costume. You must be, like, a Formula 1 super fan."

"Yeah, you can say that." The throaty chuckle that came from Max made you feel warm, a sentiment building for the stranger.

"I do have a question." It was your turn now, and the rise of Max's eyebrows in intrigue made your heart skip a beat. "Red Bull? Is there really a team for the energy drink?"

"Haha, yes. Yes, there is. I think they're pretty alright." You loved the bright laughing smile that grew on his face, it was contagious and caused you to reciprocate a short giggle.

"I can see that." You take a moment to recall what you saw while walking down the paddock earlier. "I think I saw that there was a pink team. I'll probably support them until I learn the sport and all the teams." Max chuckles lightly at your statement and briefly checks his watch for the time, something that alerts you to do the same. "Oh, I think something is supposed to start soon."

"Yeah, I definitely should get going. Oh, but let me help you first." Max starts looking up from your face and begins mentally mapping out where he needed to go.

"Oh! Uh, do you want to be in my vlog? Completely forgot about this thing." You lift up the hand that was looped through the strap of your vlog camera.

"Ah, sure. I would love to." There was that smile again, one that took up his entire face and that you had to tear your eyes from to start recording.

"Okay, guys. So, I found a sign of life." You maneuvered yourself so you were standing next to him and could see in the flipped up viewfinder that he was in the shot as well. "Everyone, this is- oh! I didn't get your name!"

"Max." After your realization, you had turned your head to look at Max so when he answers he turns his head to look into your eyes, camera be damned.

"Max…" You stop for a moment, the thinking face you make while still looking at Max was five steps past adorable. "Can I call you Maxie? I think it fits you."

"Yes, you can." Max chuckles at the refreshing innocence and oblivion that you approached him with. It was nice to be "Maxie" for a moment and not Max Verstappen.

"Everyone, this is Maxie, apparently a Red Bull super fan with this racing costume that I love," You look towards him again and wave your hand in his general vicinity after making sure the camera could see the rest of his body.

"Thank you." Max actively stops the laugh that is trying to come out, opting for a wide, flattered grin.

"You're welcome!" It was your turn now to flash a bright smile up Max that made him melt. You turn back to the camera. "Maxie here is going to help me find my way out of the, what I am assuming is, restricted area that I found my way into, so let's all say thank you to Maxie." You stop the recording and fully turn your body to Max, flipping down the viewfinder and ensuring that your camera was off. "Thank you, again. Really. This has all been pretty stressful, so it's nice to have gotten a bit of kindness today. Anyhoo, lead the way Maxie!" Max chuckles and motions in the direction you two would be going, but instead of walking in front of you he walked beside you, taking a mental snapshot of how it felt to have you beside him.

"Why has this been stressful, if you don't mind me asking?" You guys continue behind the buildings, heading what felt like further down the paddock.

"Oh, not at all. Um, well, I've had to turn the ringer on my phone down because my boyfriend has been blowing me up complaining and questioning why I came here when I know nothing about Formula 1 and that I should've asked for another ticket for him or let him go instead…The past week has been a mess in that department. And now embarrassingly getting lost and having to have a random helpful stranger, with a very comforting smile and aura by the way, assist me in finding my way. At least vlogging it lightens the blow a bit." You swing your arms a bit, looking at the buildings you're passing by.

"Thank you for the compliment. And I'm glad I am able to help, even if it is just a little bit." He purposefully does not mention your boyfriend, you've only mentioned him twice and both times gave Max chest pains. You both walk a few more steps then stop nearly in sync at the opening of another alley with a view of the paddock. "Okay, so, I believe if you walk through there and turn left there should be signs leading you to the grandstands. Hopefully there will be someone there that can lead you to where you need to go." You turn to face Max again and a gentle grin plants itself on his face, wishing he could just stay with you all day.

"Thank you again for being so kind. I hope you have a good time at the race." You smile politely and then start making your way down the alleyway between paddock buildings.

"Wait! I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" Max closed the gap a bit between you two with a couple of steps.

"Oh, it's Yn." That adorable smile was plastered on your face when you turned back to Max.

"Well, Yn, I hope we can see each other again. At this race or another." He grinned again. Truthfully he hated seeing you leave. He hated that he actually had no time for what he was doing right now, but he could care less about that. What he loved though, was finally knowing your name and hearing it come from his mouth for the first time. It felt as natural as breathing. What he loved even more was hearing his newly minted nickname in your beautiful voice as you responded.

"Me too, Maxie! See ya!" And then, to Max's despair, you were off toward the grandstands and he had to turn back to get ready for FP1.

You stalk up to the Red Bull motorhome, showing security the necessary pass before walking into the building, grinning politely at people in passing until a woman approaches you smiling and holding another pass.

"Yn! Hi, I'm Carrie, I'm the head of hospitality for Red Bull Racing." She holds out her empty hand that you meet with a handshake. "Welcome to Monaco. I'm glad to see that you made it here in one piece." She waves for you to follow her and hands you the pass as you two begin to walk out of the building and across the paddock.

"I'm glad too, the Miami, uh," You took a moment to remember the Formula 1 lingo you’ve learned since Miami. "Paddock. The Miami paddock was a walk in the park compared to this one." You giggle and follow Carrie into what you assume is the garage.

"Yeah, Monaco is a very complicated place on many different levels." She continues to lead you through the barriers of the garage.

"Can I ask a quick question?" You both stop and move to the side . "Is it Red Bull that invited me here or, you know…Max?" You weren't sure why, but you were desperate to know this information.

"Both. But I will say that was Max's idea." She points to the pass she gave you and you guys continue to walk further into the garage. "Well, it was more of a demand. But either way, he wants you in that garage with him." Those were some of the last words exchanged between you and Carrie sans you thanking her and her telling you to have a good time before a familiar face turns towards you, the bored stone face he had quickly morphing to his contagious smile that you can't help but return.

"Hey!" He approaches you with his arms out and hesitantly pulls you into a side hug, only truly doing so once you approach him with both arms out, wrapping them around his torso.

"Hi, Max." You try hard to make your voice sound chipper, trying to camouflage the pain and stress from the past week.

"Wait a minute, what happened to Maxie?" You hadn't let go of him yet, and he was completely fine with it. You were too busy finding comfort in the scent of his cologne in his polo, and he was too busy reveling in the feel of your body in his arm.

"Sorry, Maxie. These past few weeks have been a doozy." You abruptly let go of him, to which he reacts quickly and does the same, allowing you to straighten out his shirt and ensure that none of your makeup had transferred.

"Well, do you want to go talk about it?" Max had quickly missed your touch once you were done fixing him up, so, upon his proposition, he reached out to touch your elbow, dipping his head a little to look into your eyes.

"No, no. I'll be fine. You're probably busy, anyway." You look towards the people Max was talking to the moment before you entered, their eyes urging Max back over.

"They can wait. It's Thursday, we have all day." Max looks over to the people now, his face not visible from the angle you looked at him but you were able to see annoyance and slight fright in their eyes before they turn and go on to do some other pre-race weekend task.

"Oh, okay." You don't know when Max got a grasp on your hand, but as quick as you answered you were being guided in the direction opposite of the open Red Bull garage leading to the pitlane. The short walk was wordless, but you could feel that Max's aura was…unwelcoming as you two walked by people that would have stopped him if they didn't feel like he would have bitten their head off. Max reaches a door that he quickly opens and shuts and then, almost as if he were two different people, his demeanor softens as he nervously grabs two chairs so you two could sit facing each other.

"Sorry about that. People tend to bother me unless I look like I'm headed somewhere pissed off." He chuckles and waits for you to sit before sitting himself.

"I see. That's okay. Trust me, I know that sometimes you just don't want to be bothered." After your affirming statement, you two sit quietly in Max's driver room, silently studying each other.

"So, how have you been?" You speak up first, postponing explaining how the past couple of weeks have gone for you.

"Fine. Been pretty happy with how the team has been performing and…what?" Max stops in the middle of his spiel when he sees a small twist in your facial expression, a slight crinkle producing between your eyebrows.

"Oh, nothing. Sorry. Continue, please." You immediately brighten your face attempting to get Max to continue talking, but it doesn't work. Instead, a tired neutral expression settles on his face.

"No, what's wrong?" You seem to instinctively cower under his intense gaze, having no choice but to answer.

"Nothing, I just…no, nevermind. It's not important. Keep going." You force a smile onto your face, or at least a mild grin with widened eyes, anything to signal that you were ready to listen to whatever he had to say.

"No, Yn. Don't do that. What's wrong?" Max leans forward from his previously reclined position, his complete focus on you. It was interesting seeing his face in that moment, eyes noticeably more wide open but still holding a soft, attentive gaze and his mouth clamped shut producing a straight line with his lips, adding the tone of seriousness to his expression.

"It's just that, I want to hear how you've been doing. Not how driving is or how the team is doing, even though I know that's part of how you're doing. I just don't understand that stuff, yet." At this point you've looked away from Max, placing all of your visual attention on you nails, running your thumb along the white gel polish on your fingers. "I want to know how you have been doing. How have you slept? Have you done anything fun recently? Spent time with friends or family or something…"

"Ah, that's fair. Um, well…" He looks away for a moment to gather his thoughts, recounting the previous 2 weeks that were honestly full of race preparation. He then looks back up at you, your head tilted, ponytail falling to the side, your complete attention on him as indicated by large, unblinking eyes. "Truthfully, I've just been preparing for races these past couple of weeks. After Miami we had a week off, but that week was spent getting ready for back to back races with Spain last week and Monaco this week." Your eyebrows scrunch together again, but this time Max knew exactly why. "But I think I got enough sleep and slept well enough. Just didn't have enough time for leisure."

"Okay…" Your face didn't change much, except a slightly more exaggerated pout as you accepted his answer.

"Now, your turn." Max laughs at how quick your face turns to shock when you realized your stalling time had run out.

"Oh, well you know, it's sad and kinda infuriating to talk about…" You weren't looking at Max's face as you spoke but you did once you paused and it was back to the wide eyed, neutral face expression that got you talking moments before, and it worked its magic again. "Okay, well, I guess I really haven't talked about it to anyone and I really need to because this has really been ruining my mood and I don't like being sad…long story short, me and my boyfriend broke up."

If you could see into Max's chest, his heart would have been doing flips. He hated to see you sad but, boy, did he like hearing that you were single. "Oh." Max knew it was best for him to say as few words as possible, because if given the chance, he would've said everything that he wanted to when he first met you.

"Yeah. It was time, honestly. I finally realized that I deserved to be treated so much better." Your words made Max's ears perk.

"Wait, so did you break up with him, or…" his question trailed off since you nodded before he could finish.

"Yeah." You shrugged and gave him a sad grin. "He was just so mean to me. All the time. He would treat me like a child." You laugh hollowly. "After my Miami Grand Prix vlog blew up, sorry for that, by the way. Not knowing who you are and the whole 'Maxie' thing-"

"Hold on." Max's stern words startled you to silence. "You don't need to apologize for either of those things. First of all, I didn't care about whether or not you knew who I was. I actually liked the fact you didn't know who I was. Second of all, I like 'Maxie', especially, well, really only when you call me 'Maxie', but we can't have everything." You finally crack a grin, which was greater than any race win or championship he has ever received. He really just needed you to smile, even though his true goal was to get feel the bright, playful aura that you exuded when you two first met, but he knew that would require time for you to heal from your breakup and time for you to become comfortable with him, and he had nothing but time.

"Well, good. But even still, I was a bit embarrassed once the video went out and I found out who you were, but nothing too bad. It took me maybe a day and a half to get over the embarrassment and laugh with everyone. But, for some reason, my boyfriend wouldn't let it go. He was like 'How could you be so fucking stupid to not know that was Max Verstappen' and 'With how much I watch formula 1, you should have known who he was.'" You mock your ex's words, not seeing the grin that grows on Max's face, that is quickly replaced with shock when you abruptly continue talking. "How could I have known if he never gave me the time of day to teach me!! He would always just brush me off and say that I 'wouldn't understand'..." Your fiery-ness dulled. "This was the last straw for me though. Who calls someone a dumb bitch because they didn't know who someone was."

Max has never wanted to punch someone as bad as he did in that moment. He just couldn't understand how someone could be so mean to you. So degrading. You didn't deserve that. "He sounds like a cunt."

"Woah, Maxie!" A laugh. Max finally got a laugh out of you after your downward spiral. "That's… a word."

"Am I wrong? From the little bit you have told me about him, he sounds like a cunt." He shrugs and you grin, mildly, but amused.

"He was an asshole.” Nothing could have contained the smile that Max had after a split second of shock from your claim.

“Woah, there. Language.” The laughter that fills the driver’s room lifts the gloom that previously surrounded you two.

“I know. I think I need to wash my mouth out with soap now." As the laughter dies down that sad grin that Max wanted to kiss away takes root on your face once more. "It kinda sucks though, cause a small piece of me still misses him. But I think it's more because he was there for a lot of big things that happened in my life, especially with my channel and everything. So that'll take some time to get over, but I will."

"Makes sense." And truly it did make sense to Max to miss someone you've been through a lot with. Besides, Max was selfishly glad that you had such a positive outlook on the situation because it only took him a split second to answer the question he had the moment you said you broke up with your boyfriend:

Was he really going to pursue you a week after your break up?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

He then had to fill the silence that had fallen over you two, quickly realizing he was going through a similar situation, one that he only just thought to mention. "Actually, me and my girlfriend broke up…just over a month ago?" Max had to think. The event was so unemotional and uneventful that it slipped his mind.

"Oh, I'm sorry. What happened?" Max saw the pity in your eyes and tried to remedy it with a gentle smile and a shrug.

"Somewhere along the way our lives and plans didn't align anymore. It was the best for both of us." He added to a mental list another face of yours that he adored. It was contemplative, showing that you were really analyzing his situation.

"Hmm, that's pretty cool. That you both were able to come to that decision, and able to do it without anyone getting hurt." You felt your phone vibrate and went to check the importance of the notification, along with the time. "Oh! I've held you up for half an hour!"

Max slowly stands with you when you pop out of your seat at the realization. "That's fine, trust me. I'm not the biggest fan of Thursdays and all of the media stuff."

"That's fine for you, but this is my first race as a guest of Red Bull. I do not want to be known as 'the distraction'." You make sure you have everything before heading towards the door.

"You'd be the best distraction Red Bull has ever had. They'd be lucky." Max uses the advantage of his longer legs to beat you to the door, opening it for you.

"Well, let's not wait and find out." You both exit the driver room and make your way to the motorhome, finding Carrie sitting at a table doing some work on her phone.

You had already gone off toward the counter saying something about getting coffee leaving Max to talk to Carrie. "Hey, could you just make sure she's comfortable until I'm done?" Carrie looks up at Max through her eyelashes, eyebrows raised. "What?" The smile Max had was mischievous as he knew that Carrie could see through the motive of his award winning hospitality.

"Yeah, I'll make sure she's comfortable. That's my job isn't it?" She chuckles softly and looks back down at what she was doing on her phone, unable to contain a grin of amusement from watching the driver fall head over heel for the oblivious content creator.

"This is good coffee." You take a sip from the cup in your hand, smiling and greeting the woman you met earlier in the day. "Hey, wait. You're supposed to be off doing things."

"I know I just had to talk to Carrie about something." Max's eyes scan down your face, starting at your bright brown eyes traveling down your nose to your lips, which he now noticed were glossed and shiny, but as they reached your cup he could see that some of the gloss has transferred.

"Well looks like you’re done, so go.” You attempt to shoo him away but he doesn’t move, just grins at you for a moment before reaching his hand out.

“Let me see your phone.” You squint suspiciously and pout at him but still follow directions, reaching into your bag, grabbing your phone, unlocking it and handing it to him. He taps some things into the phone then hands it back to you.

“I’ll text you when I’m done. Please don’t leave before that, okay?” His face quickly turned neutral, eyes widening in request for an answer.

“Okay, I’ll try.” You crumble under his intense gaze, but still stand firm to flick your head toward the door, to which he finally leaves through after one last amused grin. You plop down in the chair on the opposite side of the table and set your coffee down on the table, all while looking at your phone. It was nothing special, just a text to his own phone that said “Yn’s number”, but it was the fact that he made his own contact name “Maxie”, the look he gave you before leaving, the fact that he urged you to stay and wait for him, it caused a flutter in your chest.

“We’ve been calling him Maxie around here for the past week. He pretends he doesn’t like it, but we all know he does.” Carrie’s voice breaks through your thoughts and you look up at her, processing the words she just said before grinning shyly, shrugging then looking back down at your phone.

"He's definitely more of a Maxie." You stare at his contact for one more moment before starting something else on your phone.

Unfortunately, meetings for Max ran late, made worse due to postponement from his tardiness, so you had to head back to your hotel without seeing him for the rest of Thursday. Friday through Sunday, on the other hand, he did as much as he could to have his eye on you, much to your oblivion. He was not going to go another moment without you in his life.

________________

redbullracing

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 180,036 others

redbullracing A new friend came to hang out with us 😍

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user5 HOW IS SHE SO PRETTY!?!?!

>redbullracing She said it was a secret 🤫

maxverstappen1 Was so glad to see you again, Yn!

>babygurlyn Was happy to see you again to Maxie! Glad we got to talk 😚

>user7 Talk about what? TALK ABOUT WHAT?

>landonorris Glad I got to meet the woman, the myth, the legend as well 😉

>babygurlyn It was lovely meeting you as well 💖

user6 Max you better come get your admin

>maxverstappen1 I'll keep an eye on them 😐

>redbullracing Hey, Max, hey 👋

redbullracing

Liked by danielricciardo and 167,472 others

realdbullracing Watch out for a video with these two besties #AustrianGP

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user8 I wish my job was trying to set me up with the love of my life 😕

danielricciardo I had the pleasure of watching them film this video, you guys are in for a treat 😁

>maxverstappen1 When were you ever there?

>danielricciardo Exactly 🥷🏼

user9 That's was literally my fav fit from her clothing haul. Absolutely stunning 🥰

babygurlyn I had a great time, but I'll say this right now, you don't want Max Verstappen to teach you how to drive

>maxverstappen1 I was nice

>babygurlyn 🫥

“Say ‘Hi.’ to the camera, Maxie.” You practically bounce into the studio where Red Bull was filming the Youtube video prior to the Austrian Grand Prix. You couldn't tell that the brightness of Max's face increased ten-fold because you were used to his smile and enthusiasm, but the crew setting up, and surely your viewers once you post this video, can see it, hiding their amusement behind the work they were doing.

"Oh, hello." He waves to the camera and then smiles his "Hello" to you, one that you respond to with a bright, exaggerated, playful smile.

"Alright, you guys. I'll talk to you later 'cause this is hush hush. Okay? Byeeee!" You cover the lens and stop the recording, then reach your arm out to give him a side hug. The hug lingers a bit, allowing Max to truly become intoxicated by the vanilla hint in your perfume. "Hi! So, who do I thank for this invitation?"

"Red Bull. And EA Sports, I guess. This video was a bit of a surprise to me too. I didn’t know they would bring you in, I think they like our dynamic.” Max has to take a step back from you once the hug breaks as precaution, he knew if he stayed too close he would reach out to touch you again. Instead he crosses his arms.

“Good. I like hanging out with you.” You tilt your head and flash that innocent smile at Max.

“I-uh-like your outfit. It’s from your new video, isn’t it?” Max pulled that information from the back of his mind, remembering how much he loved you in each outfit tried on in your latest haul, which was the last video he watched after binge watching multiple videos on your channel.

“You’ve been watching my videos!?” If Max knew this was the face he would’ve gotten after mentioning your content, widened eyes and a smile so wide that your dimples are accentuated due to the rise in your cheekbones, it would’ve been the first thing he said the moment you walked through that door. Heck, he would’ve facetimed you the moment he clicked on the first video.

“Of course. You come to my races, I watch your videos.” Max had to play it cool. He shrugs out his words, trying to make it seem as much of a normal common courtesy as possible.

“Well now I gotta make sure I come to all of your races.” You poke Max’s chest, still grinning up at him.

“I’ll make sure, trust me.” You can feel a shift in the air, the tone of Max’s words playful yet serious, his eyes and the neutral set of his face accentuating the seriousness.

“You better.” You dramatically flip your ponytail then look at the driving rig set up at the other side of the room. "So, we're using that today?"

"You're using that today. I'm just instructing." Max smiles at the concern and confusion that morphs onto your face. "Didn't they tell you what they video was?"

"No. I didn't ask. They told me I was going to be doing a video with you and I just agreed." There goes that, borderline clinically concerning, squeezing of his chest at the mere knowledge that you trusted him enough to just agree to do something with him, no questions asked. Still, he had to use this as a lesson for you.

"I'm flattered, but from now on, don't agree to anything without asking questions, please?" He gives you that stern raised eyebrow look that threateningly persuades you into answering.

"Okay, sorry." You try to maintain eye contact but your instincts get the better of you, making you look hesitantly down and away from Max.

"That's okay, no need for sorry." His smile was back on his face, trying to fix the mood in the air that he could feel changed much more than intended. He was instantly relieved when he saw the reciprocated smile you gave back. "Uh, the video. You will be driving two laps around the Austria track on the game while I direct you on how to do it."

"Oh, joy." You weren't looking at Max when you answered, instead you were nervous smiling at the set up.

"What? it won't be that bad. I'm a great teacher." Max crosses his arms and watches skepticism flash across your face.

"You probably are, but you also seem kinda stern, so that scares me. I also don't know how to drive, so…" You shrug and grin pitifully up at Max.

"Wait, you don't have your license or anything?" You couldn't help but laugh at the concerned face Max gave you after your admittance, shaking your head to wordlessly answer the question. "Why? How do you get around?" Max was truly concerned. He didn't like the idea of you taking Ubers or anything else with a virtual stranger. If it was up to him, as long as you didn't have a license he would be driving you everywhere. But it's not up to him.

"Uber, friends, things like that. I literally created a "Ride Money" account instead of just learning how to drive." Max's face doesn't change. "Driving is scary."

"No, it's not." You scrunch your eyebrows and pout at his quick matter-of-fact answer.

"Easy for you to say." You grumble, perking up a bit when a person who seemed to move around like they were in charge of this whole ordeal enters the room.

"You know what? If all goes well here I think I should teach you how to drive." Max doesn't care about who enters the room, he keeps his eyes on you, watching as your face gives away how much you are trying to listen to the conversation across the room.

"At your own risk. I'm telling you, the moment I get behind that wheel, my head gets all full and I can't think straight. It's terrible." Your focus was still on the people behind the camera, their attention now on you and Max.

"I'm sure you'll do fine here and behind the wheel of an actual car. You seem like you pick things up quickly." This compliment tears your attention away from the people and finally brings it back to him.

"Oh. Well thank you, Maxie." You pause for a beat. " I guess we'll see." Right after you spoke, almost as if it was planned, the person who seemed to be some sort of director for the video approached you two to explain how the video will work. You were listening diligently, nodding intermittently at the words being spoken, but Max, on the other hand, could only focus on you, and while a million things were moving through his head, one problem seemed to stand out: you and your lack of a license. He didn't want you to have to rely on Uber or other people. He wanted to be the one you relied on.

He wanted to make sure you were getting places safely, even if it was just a short stint of knowing.

Maybe you could come stay with him over the summer break.

The bass of the dance music blasting through the speaker of the Ibiza club had you moving and jumping in time with it. That and the 2 vodka cranberries and a Screwdriver that you've had so far. You were on stage in a VIP section behind the DJ, Martin Garrix, a name you know you've heard before who apparently are basically best friends with Max and Lando. Max watched you from the couch, nursing a single beer and keeping an eye on you. He had made a silent rule, known to others in VIP by a simple stern look whenever someone got too close to you, that no one was allowed to dance with you except for Lando, since he had a clear idea of how much Max was intrigued and infatuated by you. When a transition between songs began Max could see you trying to say something to Lando while pointing over at him before jogging, your feet moving in a shuffling manner, toward him.

"Maxie, come dance!" You grabbed his hands and tried to use all of your own strength to pull him up, almost falling backwards, but Max uses the grip he already has on your hands to pull you back to him, falling into his chest and him basically clamping you there.

"Maybe flat sandals next time will keep that from happening." You were listening, but your body told you to keep dancing to the music. As the beat crescendoed, preliminary to a bass drop, you twisted with Max, dancing like you're at a middle school dance, still hand in hand.

"It's not the shoes, I wear these all the time! And the heel is only, like, 3 inches. That was because of the vodka!" You burst out laughing and begin jumping when the beat drops in the song currently playing.

"Fine. Just be careful." He gave you a concerned smile, and in response you reached up and briefly squeezed his cheeks.

"Okaayy! Stop worrying!" You get very touchy feely when you're drunk, you knew it, so while it was a surprise to Max, it was no surprise to you that you started to mess with Max's hair, combing your fingers through the blonde strands. You guys continue dancing, but rather than it being playful like before, there was a lustful longing that moved between you two. It started with the eye contact, the natural squint in his eyes and your eyelids drooping due to you intoxication. Then it was hand placement. Max had rested his hands on your hips and you had wrapped your arms around his neck, bodies pressed against each other. You two were moving to the music, somewhat slowly, but still on beat. This lasted for nearly and entire song but there was a brief moment where you looked away to check the drinks in the table, noticing that 2 of the juice mixers were gone. You break away and head over, Max following behind immediately. Lando was sitting on the couch, one leg resting on the other, that was until you made it over and picked up the 2 empty bottles, preparing to have to go over to the bar to get more. "They're empty." You pout looking back and forth between the two bottles in your hand.

"That's what happens when you just drink the juice. We can just ask someone to get some more." Just as Max was lifting his hand to call someone over, you rebuttal.

"No, I'll go get some. The bar is right over there." You weren't wrong. The bar was just approximately 20 feet off the stage, up against the side wall of the club.

"I'll come with you." Max offers but you wave him off, grinning widely at him.

"I got this. I'm a big girl." And without giving him time to protest, you were practically bouncing away and down the stage steps, security posted there blocking the people on the dance floor from you. Max just heads back to the couch, plopping down and keeping an eye on you as you smile and say something to the bartender before handing them the bottles.

"You're right. She is very oblivious to what you're doing." Lando tells his friend, shouting over the music.

"So I am obvious?" He turns abruptly, desperate to know how someone outside of you and him saw your interaction.

"Very." Lando takes a sip of the brown liquid he had in his glass.

"So why does it seem like she doesn't know?" Max sets his beer down and runs his hands through his hair, which only annoys him more because he now knows what it feels like to have your hands in his hair. A feeling that will forever linger in his mind like everything else you do.

"Because she probably doesn't. It's Yn we're talking about. You're gonna have to be blunt." Lando downs the rest of what was in his glass and sets it down. Max was going to respond but instinctively his gaze moved over to where you stood by the bar, now accompanied by a man who was very obviously making you uncomfortable.

"What the fuck?" Was the last thing muttered by Max before he got up and bee lined to the bar.

Over at the bar a completely different, and unwanted, conversation was going on. This guy, accent indiscernible but still there, partially undone white button down, messed up dark hair and somewhat grown out 5 o'clock shadow, has made himself at home leaning against the bar right next to you.

"Now what is a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?" He keeps his hands to himself for the time being, one keeping him upright on the bar and the other perched on his hip.

"Well, I'm not alone i-" You were starting to answer, but the man began interrupting the moment the first word fell from your mouth.

"I wouldn't let you out of my sight looking like that if you were mine." He began to reach out to pull you closer by your hip, but you smacked his hand away.

"Well, I'm not yours and I never said-" You were interrupted again.

"Come on baby. I'll make tonight something you won't forget." Again, that clammy hand reached out for you and you smacked it away again, taking a step backwards and stumbling a bit into a person behind you.

"Sorry." You say to the person, who seemed to be looking at something in the direction of the perv in front of you that you couldn't quite see so just ignore it. "Listen. Ion want you to touch me, Ion want to go anywhere with you an' 'm not here alone."

"So who are you here with, 'cause I don't see him around." The guy exaggeratedly looks around the vicinity like he's looking out at sea then turns back to you mockingly.

"She's with me, asshole." You don't know when Max showed up, standing extremely close to your side, but it soon clicked that the person you bumped into was watching Max storm over your way.

"Dude, you're Max Verstappen." The guy has his mouth wide open in shock, eyes full of pure joy from seeing the driver, as if he wasn't harassing you just moments before.

"And you were fucking with my girlfriend." The words just slipped out before he could stop them, but in the meantime that was second in his mind to the situation at hand.

"Hey, if I knew she was your girl, I would've-" The guy started to take a few steps back but was yanked closer again by Max grabbing his shirt.

"You shouldn't be doing this shit to any woman." Max's hand started twitching, he wanted to punch the asshole so bad, but a small nudge with your elbow parted those dark clouds for him and made him look at you, hand still holding the guy by his shirt. You lift up the glass bottles of orange juice and cranberry juice.

"I have the juices. Let's head back. He's not worth it, anyway." You were holding eye contact with Max, but a quick flash of your eyes to his hand clued him into the fact that his hand was in a fist that he quickly releases along with the guy. He then turns to take the bottles from you, occupying his hands.

"Let's go." He lets you walk ahead of him, watching you walk past before following you, scowling at the guy as he passes. "Stop being a dick." We the last words he muttered to him before fully following you to the on-stage VIP section.

"Are you okay?" Max finally asks after setting down the bottles and placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Maxie, I'm fine." You play with the bottom hem of his shirt grinning innocently up at him.

"Okay, okay." Neither of you move for a moment, just looking into each other's eyes before your brain bounces back to the previous encounter.

"I held my own down there, didn't I?" Your smile brightens as you talk about how proud you were of yourself, and Max gave you an almost equal smile in return.

"Yes, you did. I'm proud." Max's tone was playful to match yours, but he truly was surprised at how you had handled yourself, not letting the man persuade you.

"Yay! Now, let's finish out this night with a bang!" You let go of Max's shirt and skip over to the table and take one of the stacked small plastic cups and pour a small shot of straight Belvedere vodka, smiling mischievously at Max after you do. You were going to drive him crazy.

_______

"Noooo. Don't go. Help me get ready for bed." You hold on to Max's hand trying to pull him into your hotel room after finally getting back from the club. Max had unlocked it, since he kept your key for you, and was just holding the door open waiting for you to walk in.

"You don't need me to help. You'll be fine. Remember, you're a big girl." He reiterated your claim from earlier in the night, removing his hand from the door and replacing it with his back so he could push back your locs that were all askew from your bouncy movements.

"I lied. I'm a baby that needs help getting in her pajamas." You were pouting now, swinging Max's arm back and forth. He had to take a moment to admire your face, soft, innocent. You were the definition of loveliness.

"Fine. In." You cheer and skip inside. "But I am not going to help you into your pajamas."

After entering your room he helped you with the basics of getting ready to go to bed, like helping you out of your shoes, finding a makeup wipe to at least get some of what you were wearing off and getting out an oversized T-shirt and what seemed like pajama shorts while you brushed your teeth, which was after he spent 3 minutes coaxing you to do so.

"Don't you want the shorts?" Max held them out to you while you climbed into bed with only the oversized shirt over your undergarments.

"No, it's too hot for that." You cuddle under the heavy hotel bed blanket then flutter your eyelashes at Max. "You gotta kiss me goodnight, boyfriend." You waggle your eyebrows after making Max for his words from earlier. The words he hoped and prayed you didn't pay attention to.

"I thought you didn't hear that." He walks over slowly to the head of your bed, smiling nervously.

"Oh I did. I thought it was funny that was what you went with, but it did the trick." You giggle and poke his side, the physical representation of you metaphorically bursting his balloon. You thought what he said was just an act. Of course.

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged and stood there, contemplating whether or not he was going to tell you. Right now didn't feel like the right time, and his hesitation made it worse. No, not now, but soon.

"Come on, sir. Still waiting for my kiss." You were pointing toward your forehead, right in between your eyebrows, to which Max sighs but obliges to, giving you a short peck in the forehead. You don't let him go though. Next you point to your nose and again you receive a short peck. Then you finally point to your now exaggeratedly puckered lips.

"I'm not kissing your lips." This can't be the moment he first kissed you. It was supposed to be much more grand than this. That's what you deserved, but you insisted.

“Come on, I’m not asking you to make out with me. Just a small peck.” You pucker your lips again and after a small moment of hesitation, Max bends down to kiss you, gently placing his lips on yours. It happened in slow motion and felt like it lasted eternity, or at least you both wish it lasted eternity. The small kiss made both of your heads swirl, but unfortunately for Max, you just blamed it on your intoxication. When he pulled back you were looking at him with a soft, sweet look, an equally sweet grin on your lips, enticing him for more, but instead he straightened up, still keeping his gaze down on you. “Goodnight, Maxie.”

“Goodnight, Yn.” Max smiles at you one last time then heads toward the door of your room, turning off the light and then finally exiting. He was going to tell you. He had to tell you. Soon.

babygurlyn

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 118,307 others

babygurlyn Summer Summer Summer Time,☀️

tagged maxverstappen1, landonorris and martingarrix

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user10 So glad I'm part of this multiverse timeline 🥲

user11 I'm gonna need to know who took the first pic. It's for research.

>maxverstappen1 🖐🏻

>user11 THE ANSWER THE WORLD WANTED

maxverstappen1 Glad you were able to come along on the summer break

>babygurlyn Glad I was invited 🥰 (not glad you took a Zoom meeting in the middle of our boat day🥺)

>user13 Say sorry, Max 🫵🏽

>maxverstappen1 Sorry 😔

landonorris I call doing Yn's make-up the next video, I know I can do better

>maxverstappen1 not if your life depended on it

>user14 Coming next summer: Who can be a better mua for Yn

_____________

You strain to reach a large bowl on a high shelf in a cabinet of Max’s kitchen, the last piece needed for everything to be ready for making the chocolate chip cookies you convinced Max were necessary for you to have the best Christmas visit. As you reach, a fingertip away, you hear Max clear his throat, startling you. “Hi. I almost had it.”

Max slowly walks over your way and easily reaches up to take the bowl you were reaching for down, then turns to you with his arms crossed. “Ask for help.”

“I almost had it, jeez.” You take the bowl and place it near the ingredients that you rounded up for the cookies. The attitude you responded to him with had Max stunned. All he did was help you…

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Max follows you. Watching as you slowly grew more frustrated, going over the items on the counter over and over again and not retaining any of the information you were taking in.

“Nothing.” You grumble, still just looking at the items on the counter.

“Yn…” Max wanted to reach out and touch you so badly, pull you into him and kiss away whatever negative feeling was consuming you, but instead he places his hand on the counter and stoops his head down to get a glimpse of your face.

“You act like I can’t do anything for myself,” You snap, turning to look at him, his face scrunched in confusion. He could tell you were going to continue, so he stayed silent. “And you say you think I’m so smart and strong and independent and you like that stuff about me but you're always there doing things for me and I don’t know why! Are you lying? Just saying that stuff to not hurt my feelings cause you actually think I can’t take care of myself?”

“I know you can. That’s why I do it. You can and you’ve had to for too long.” Your face doesn’t change, still angry but slightly confused at what Max was trying to say. Now it was time for Max to be unhinged. “I don’t think you understand. It’s instinct, what I do for you. I can’t just sit back and watch you struggle. I don’t want you to ever have to struggle, even with the smallest of things.”

“Why?” That one word was Max’s last straw. Nothing could keep him from telling you how he really felt.

“I’m in love with you. I was just going to say that I like you a lot, but I would be lying and I would never lie to you. I love you, Yn.” It was almost instantaneous how quick the anger dissipated from your face.

“Oh, Maxie, I-” Max hated to have to interrupt you, but he had to finish what he was saying. Everything he had been holding in for months.

“Wait, please.” You nod and Max takes a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t know when I fell in love with you, but I knew the moment you ran into me that I couldn’t live without you. You were it for me. So that is why I treat you the way I do. Not because I don’t think you can do anything, but because I think you are too precious to lift a finger.” You two just look at each other, waiting for the other to say something. “That’s the best way I can put it.”

“Maxie,” He raises eyebrows at you, worried about what your next words will be. You lift one finger. “First, never cut me off again.” Max cracks a smile at how serious you got, but agrees and waits for your next point. You lift up a second finger. “Second, why aren’t your lips on mine?”

If people thought he was fast on track, that couldn’t even compare to how quick Max pulled you into a breathtaking kiss, hands starting on your shoulders and slowly sliding up to the sides of your face. You just wrapped your arms around his torso, finally relaxing in the arms of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about. Max felt as though he was finally alive, kissing you. Like he was merely existing before and you were the singular breath of oxygen that he needed to truly be alive. He started to walk you backwards out of the kitchen, kissing you deeper and deeper, over and over again.

“Wait, the cookies…” You weren’t sure if you were really concerned about the cookies, because you truthfully just wanted more of Max, but still you moaned out the words.

“Fuck the cookies.” Max says against your lips before turning you around and playfully chasing you to his room.

maxverstappen1

Liked by babygurlyn and 238,579 others

maxverstappen1 It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year ☃️

tagged babygurlyn

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babygurlyn You used the caption I suggested 🥹

>maxverstappen1 It's a fairly common Christmas song

>babygurlyn Let me have this win, please 🥺

>maxverstappen1 Of course, I apologize

user15 Is it just me or does this give soft launch 🧐

>user16 No, no you're on to something

landonorris Why wasn't I invited?

>danielricciardo ?

>redbullracing ??

>maxverstappen1 Why can't I just have peace and quiet 🤦🏼‍♂️

_________

Max quickly made it a habit to have frequent check-ins with you during sex. He knew how rough he could get if he wasn't cognizant of his partner's feelings or needs and the last thing he ever wanted was for you to get hurt because he forgot himself.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I adore your fucking pussy. Always fits me so nicely." Max was on his knees between your legs, one hand grasping your left hip, stabilizing your lower half that was already propped up by a pillow, and the other hand clamping both arms up above your head.

"Fuck, Max, this feels so good." You groan, then wince at a smack that you receive on your left ass cheek, soon smiling after because you knew it was coming.

"You did that on purpose, you little slut." You were able to manage a laugh in the midst of a moan as Max thrusted sharply into you, completely changing his rhythm to something slower but harsher. He looks away from your face for a moment, turning his attention to his dick moving in and out of you, your slick gathering more and more around him with every hitch of his hips. His attention then goes to your clit, needy and swollen and begging to be touched, and he does, using the juices coming from you to make it easier to rub languid circles on the nub. You let out whine, borderline sob, from the new sensation and Max immediately looked back up at your face, needing to see what pretty look had settled on it now. Instead of one look he was greeted with a series of them. First a partial lip bite, just the inside portion of your lip, as you looked down to watch for yourself, not knowing which sight you loved more, watching his hips thrust into your propped up pussy, or Max's long slender fingers rubbing circles on your clit. This led to look number two, which was you releasing your lips and looking up at Max, mouth agape, breathy moans and whines flowing unrestricted. This was Max's favorite look, your innocent eyes on him, flashes of lust and love presenting themselves as he fucks you so sinfully. Which is why Max abandoned his hold on your wrists to correct your last look, which was more lacking thereof since you turned your head to the side in an attempt to bury your head in your shoulder. With his newly unoccupied hand, Max grasps your face to make you look at him.

"Don't hide your face, love. You look fucking beautiful being fucked by my cock." When you finally look at him he can see a new glossiness in your eyes.

"Mmm Maxie…" Your voice had gone up an octave, another indication that something unfamiliar was happening.

"Yes, love? You okay?" Max stops moving his hips but keeps a slow soothing pace on your clit as he waits for you to respond.

"Mhm. My head feels fuzzy. Can't think." This made Max release your face and stop the movement on your clit completely.

"Oh, are you alright? Do you want me to stop?" Of course his first reaction is one of true concern. As stated before, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

"Nooo…" Your response was whiny and accompanied with a pitiful pout that made unspeakable thoughts run through Max's head.

"Okay, okay." He starts to caress your clit again, a sensation you seem to enjoy given the small mewls that vibrate from your throat, as he assesses the moment. His first decision was to change positions, something simpler that allowed him a bit better control of your body, which he realized became somewhat floppy, like a rag doll once your mind traveled to this unknown state. He slowly removes himself from you and momentarily stops rubbing, both losses of sensations evoking a slightly bratty whine that is absolutely adorable to him. "Give me just a moment and I'll stuff my pretty girl full again, okay?"

"Okay." You nod, face blank and waiting for your next instruction.

"Fucking hell," Max said this under his breath, eyes scanning your entire body before bring his mind back to his previous task. "Move down to the end of the bed for me, love." You do so, eagerly bouncing down to the foot of the bed with an mostly innocent grin. Max definitely saw a flash of animalistic desire in your cute face. While you did that, he got fully off the bed and stood at the foot of the bed thanking his lucky stars that the height of it perfectly aligned you with his hips.

"Maxie!" You whined and eagerly wiggled your hips, which was all the confirmation he needed for him to enter you again. He still pushed in slowly, you were already tight around him before, and now with you in what seems like a considerably sensitive mental state, he didn't want to take any chance being too rough.

"Fuck, my pretty girl feels so good around me." He stilled himself in you as he brought your legs up to wrap lazily around his hips. You, nonverbally begging for some movement, began to buck your hips while Max tried to situate himself.

"Yn, I'm gonna need you to be a good girl and stop moving for a second." His voice had a bit of sternness to it that made you stop immediately, but also caused your eyebrows to furrow in worry. "No, baby, I'm sorry. I just need a moment, okay." He waits for you to nod and the does a few more adjustments, pulling your hips closer, deciding that your right leg was the best to hold up against his hip, and moving some of your locs that got into your face during the position change before finally settling that left hand by your head and hitching his hips back so he could start his pace again. It started slow, he was still getting used to the position and angle change, but soon his previous pace was back with a vengeance. His partially bent over angle caused the top of his pelvis to graze your clit, a sensation that was amplified due to the general excessive sensitivity of the nub along with the vulnerable state of your mind. This happened with every sensation for you, it was all overwhelming, all felt too good, and instinctively you covered your face with open palms so Max couldn't see how uninhibited your facial expressions get when you were in a pure state of lust. Max wasn't having it though.

"What did I say before, love? Don't hide your face. You make such pretty faces when I fuck you." He took his hand that rested on the bed and grasped one of your hands away from your face. "Rub your clit with the other hand for me, baby." You immediately follow directions, reaching down and rubbing quick circles on the nub, chasing a climax you could feel coming. "Slower, love. Slower." You slow down the speed of your fingers but start to buck your hips in an attempt to meet Max's thrusts, which he allows. He just loves seeing his pretty little girl get off on his cock.

"I wanna cum, Maxie. Help." It had only been a moment since he told you to slow your hand and you were back at the fast pace that indicated you were fast approaching your orgasm.

"Okay, baby. I'll help you. Move your hand." You remove your hand from your clit to allow Max to replace it with his own, which also meant he had to let go of your other hand. "Play with your tits for me, love. Just don't cover that pretty little fucked out face of yours." You bring your hands to your chest, squeezing and rolling your nipple between two fingers, causing a sensation that definitely helped toward your ultimate goal of cumming. Max had to keep tabs on himself as well, feeling his own self coming close to his end with each squeeze he received from your clenching pussy.

" 'm cumming!" This exclamation was followed by a long sobbing whine and your pussy spastically clenched around Max's dick, which removed quick yet carefully from you, still continuing to stroke himself and rub your clit, gently now to help bring you down. He leaned over to give you a sloppy, unfocused kiss as he chased his own climax he was achieving with his hand. As he got closer he removed his hand from your clit and placed it next to your torso, bracing himself as he finally reached his orgasm, his forehead pressed against yours as strings of cum landed on your stomach.

Max had to take a moment to catch his breath before thinking of what to do next. After a few seconds, he looked up at your face. Your eyes were closed but he could tell you were still awake and coming down from your orgasm from the quiet whines that vibrated through your chest. He then regains enough balance to head to the bathroom and grab a warm damp towel that he first presses against your sensitive pussy, pressing kisses on your forehead as he does so, then uses it to wipe the cum off of your stomach. He was about to go and take it to the laundry room, but you gently grabbed his unoccupied hand, stopping him in his tracks. You say no words, just open up your arms, inviting him in for a cuddle and he does not hesitate to toss the used rag into the empty hamper and fall back into bed with you, first helping you back up to the head of the bed before pulling you into a bear hug. It was almost surprising to Max how quick you fell asleep once he pulled you into his arms, but it sure was the most lovely sight he has ever seen. He loved watching you sleep, being able to see the peace settle over your face. From here, he could done what he usually does in this position, recount the good the bad and the ugly of how he got to this moment with you, especially with you two making your relationship public just a couple weeks prior, but instead, for the first time ever, he just dozes off to sleep, trying to figure out what to do for breakfast.

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