#he tells Jo that’s what he did

[whatsfourteenupto]

So was anyone gonna tell me that when Ten was regenerating he didn’t just go back and see ‘his’ companions? He went back and looked in on every companion I’m fucking crying

[todayisafridaynight]

metal_pipe_falling.mp4

under the cut is more doodles of arakawa in his coat(s) and sawashiro doodles cause Lol

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ Just say you’re sorry ~

THIS IS FOR THE AMAZING ANON THAT INSPIRED THIS FIC SO KUDOS TO THEM 💞✨💗💕

Also tagging my fellow moots who love this HC as much as I do:

@someone1348 @tickleebug @prettychillbrainfreeze @ghostlyshylee @itzystopkiddingmenowloco

Lee’s: Leo🐢💙 and Mikey🐢🧡

Ler’s: Raph🐢❤️ and Donnie🐢💜

Summary: Raph and Donnie have been getting pranked by they’re younger brothers all day. So like the good big brothers they are, they hatch a totally not devious plan to teach they’re younger sibs a lesson.  

(A/N: AS ALWAYS- T*EST DNI YOU NASTY CREEPY WEIRDOS)

———————————————————————

“Stupid dumb-dumbs…stupid stupid dumb-dumbs…”

Raph turned around from where he was sitting on the living room couch to see his immediate younger brother- Donnie- pacing back and forth in the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee that spilled a little bit every now and again as he turned around in a pacing circle. 

The young genius was wearing his dark purple sweatshirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, wearing his occasional purple mask and goggles. Raph was wearing his own mask as well, clashing with his grey/gray sweatshirt.

The snapper got up from the couch, putting his phone down and walking to his immediate younger brother. “Hey, bud…you okay?” Raph asked, putting a hand on Donnie’s shoulder as a way to show his comfort. The younger looked up at Raph and started chuckling, even though the eldest turtle was 99.9% sure nothing he just said was funny…

“What’s wrong..? What’s WRONG???” Donnie yelled, going close to Raph’s face so they’re snouts touched before stepping away from him. The softshell put his coffee mug on the counter, pacing back and forth again while his hands were behind his back. 

“Oho, I’ll tell you what’s wrong. What’s wrong my dear older brother, is that those imbeciles that I apparently have to call my younger brothers have been pulling pranks on me left and right ALL DAY. I can’t get any work done without fearing for my life that another water balloon or paint cannon is going to hit me!” Donnie said, throwing his hands up to the air before putting them back down. The purple cladded sibling sighed, rubbing a hand down his face slowly as he tried to calm himself down.

Donnie was frustrated- very very (that’s two very’s) frustrated if you couldn’t tell. The genius wanted to have a productive day; a day where he got almost all of his work done and he had the rest of the evening to spend with his family and friends. Believe it or not, the softshell actaully enjoyed spending time with his family, even if he acts like he dreads every single second of it.

But sadly, the universe didn’t want the day to go the way Donnie had originally planned. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 younger siblings that were annoying as FU- fudge. Annoying as fudge.

Anyway, the two gremlins have been placing boobytraps and pranks all over the lair, such as sparkle canons, water balloons, whoopie cushions- you name it! And at the end of every single prank there would be this…card that mysteriously came out of nowhere. It was orange and blue and had Mikey and Leo’s faces on it, saying “You just got pranked by the Portal Pals! (P.S. L + Bozo)”

Which was…cute. It was nice that the two were having fun and spending time with each other…but WHY did they’re fun have to torture Donnie in the process?

“You too, huh?” Raph chuckled, reaching into his sweatshirt pocket and taking out a couple of Leo and Mikey’s “You just got pranked!” cards. Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle along with Raph at the sight of the cards, going over to him and resting his head on his plastron, groaning. The snapper just laughed some more, wrapping his immediate younger brother in a hug as he patted his battleshell.

“They’re. so. annoying.” Donnie whined, rubbing his hands along his face as Raph sighed. “I mean, yeah. They’re our little brothers, little bro. It’s kind of they’re job to annoy the living hell out of us, y’know?” The eldest reasoned, patting Donnie’s shoulder as he huffed, his anger starting to slip away. “Yeah…I guess so…” the softshell mumbled, taking his head up from Raph’s plastron and smiling at him.

“But hey! Look on the bright side: that doesn’t mean we can’t get payback~!” Raph exclaimed, winking at Donnie who raised one of his sharpie drawn eyebrows, curiosity and mischievousness written all over his face. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Donnie asked, grinning from ear to ear. 

Raph grinned back, nodding his head in confirmation. The second-oldest turtle  smiled a bit more (this time being a kind of evil smile) as he took out his phone from his pocket, going into they’re family GC. The younger started typing up something on his phone, beginning to walk to his lab.

“Walk and talk with me, Raphie. I’ve got a plan…”

🕺🏾🐢🍕Cool Kids GC 🍕🐢🕺🏾

Today at 2:34 pm 

*🕺🏾👾Bootyyyshaker9000👾🕺🏾 is online*

Hello my fellow fam

*UrfaveChamp😘😘😘✨💙 is online*

*Mystic_Mike🎨🤩 is online*

Yoooo

Hey Don!

How are you ����🥰?

Good good.

How’s the eyebrows working? Feelin pretty, bro?

Donnie groaned from Leo’s text, about to type “kys” in the GC to his younger twin before Raph cleared his throat, shaking his head in disapproval as they continued to walk. The softshell sighed, deleting the text before he was about to send it in the GC. 

“There. Happy?” Donnie asked as the oldest nodded, walking into the lab and both sitting on the lab’s desk chairs. “Very.”

“Anyway, what’s he even talking about, Don?” Raph asked, confused. Donnie ran a hand down his face, clicking out of messages and showing Raph a picture he took earlier. It was a pic of Donnie’s eyebrows covered in sparkles, glitter and fake gemstones- and it looked completely awful. Let’s just say the eyebrows looked like a second graders art project. 

Uh…no offense to any second grader of course…

“One of they’re sparkle canons got me…” Donnie mumbled. The softshell was so glad he was able to clean that monstrosity off- he would never be able to live that down without anyone making fun of him for it. 

Raph cackled at the picture, putting a hand to his face as he did so. “Stop laughing...” Donnie glared, taking the phone back so Raph couldn’t see the photo anymore. And if the alligator snapping turtle knew any better, he could’ve sworn that he saw a pout on his immediate younger brother's face. 

“It isn’t funny.” The pout caused Raph to giggle a bit more, booping the softshell’s snout as the younger playfully swatted his hand away. “It is a bit funny…” Raph giggled, smirking at Donnie. The second oldest just chuckled as he rolled his eyes, clicking out of his Photos app and right back to the GC.

They’re fine, actually. The sparkles really complimented my eyes.

See! Told you he would like it, Mikey!

A success in my book

Oh whatever 😒😒😒

✨Anywaysssss✨

What is it that u needed, Don?

R u okay?

Oh, yeah. I’m fine.

I just need you both to come to my lab.

I have to make a huge announcement to say to everyone.

It’s extremely important.

Raph’s already with me so I just need you two to come.

Oh! 

Okay! 

Oooh! Must be a pretty important if we’re coming to Dee’s lab…

Yes- it is important. I literally just said that.

See you in like- 15 seconds, Dee!

Wait! Raph’s w/ u right now?

Yes. Raph is with me as of right now.

Ask him for me how he likes his new room setup 😁✨ 

LMFAOAOAOAO

Raph grabbed Donnie’s phone out of his hands, his face red in embarrassment as he typed in the group chat. “What’s he talking about, man?” Donnie chuckled confused, not used to seeing his older brother so flustered. 

After the snapper was done with…whatever he was typing, his face relaxed- seeming really calm and content now. Raph cleared his throat, handing the phone back to Donnie. “We don’t talk about it.” 

KSYNDND

*KYS

THIS IS RAPH TYLINGNEN

*TYPING

KANSHSJAKSHS!!!

U KNOW ITS FUNNY BRO-BRO

I HATE YOU 2 SM LITERALLY DIE😡😡😖!!!

BAHAHAHAJSHSBDKDK

We love you tooooo Raphieee~!☺️☺️☺️😘😘💕💖💞💖💖✨✨

Donnie clicked out of the messaging app and glared at Raph. “How come I can’t type ‘kys’ in the group chat but you can!?” He asked, putting his phone on his desk and crossing his arms. “Eldest brother privileges, duh.” Raph said calmly, merely shrugging as Donnie rolled his eyes for probably the millionth time today. 

.

.

.

“What’s with the random call to Dee’s lab? Are we experimenting on something?” Leo asked excitedly, looking around the lab to see if there was anything brand new or important to test on as him and Mikey walked in. “Yeah! What is it? I wanna know!” Mikey asked as well, grinning from ear to ear waiting for either of his older brothers to answer the question.

Leo was wearing his dark blue sweatshirt, with his blue mask. Mikey was also wearing his favorite orange sweatshirt, also wearing his mask. 

Not answering any of the younger two's questions, Donnie tapped a few buttons on his wrist watch, closing the lab door behind them. The two quickly looked behind them at the door and then at each other, nervousness starting to broil up in they’re stomachs. “Don? Raph? You guys okay…?” Leo asked, his head tilting to the side in confusion as his twin and older brother just stood there staring at him and Mikey.

“So…you guys gonna keep staring at us, or are you gonna tell us why we’re here…?” Mikey said as he scratched his head in confusion. 

“Glad you two are so curious to find out why I called you here.” Donnie smiled, him and Raph getting up from they’re chairs, looking at they’re younger brothers with a deadpanned face. There was another awkward silence with all of them just staring at each other. 

The two youngest weren’t sure if they were called in Donnie’s lab for a legitimate reason or if this was some huge staring contest. Leo and Mikey exchanged worried glances, “Soooo…you gonna tell us or what?” Leo chuckled, crossing his arms trying to hide his nervousness at his twins vague answers. 

“Well, you and Mikey have been pranking me and Don a lot.” Raph said stating the obvious, only for Leo and Mikey to chuckle. “Is this what this is about? Are we in trouble or something?” Mikey giggled, nudging Leo in the elbow causing the older to snicker.

“You two aren’t in trouble per say. We just want to join in on the fun too!” Donnie smiled…a bit too sweetly. Leo crossed his arms, squinting suspiciously at his older brothers. “Join in on the fun?” The slider repeated. “Oh, but of course! The fun I’m personally thinking of starts with an r and ends with ‘evenge’. Isn’t that right, Raph?” Donnie grinned as Raph nodded his head.

Mikey gulped, “Wehell…Ihi just remembered I have to goho feed my pehet rock…so, uh…if you’ll excuse me I’ll just be on my way…” Mikey giggly said, nervously walking backwards to the opening door to the lab. Mikey attempted to open the lab door again and again but it just wasn’t budging. He turned around, trying to turn the knob but it wasn’t moving an inch. 

“The lab door is locked my dearest Angelo.” Donnie chuckled as he saw the youngest trying to pry the door open- an evil smile plastered on his face as he leaned against Raph’s side, crossing his arms. 

Well shit.

“You get Mikey, I’ll get Leo.” Raph instructed, walking towards Leo as Donnie walked towards Mikey, both of the older siblings wiggling they’re fingers slightly with huge evil grins on they’re faces. The two youngest looked at each other completely petrified, stepping away from the door and splitting up, going deeper into Donnie’s lab but making sure to keep they’re eyes on they’re “attackers.”

“Wahait! W-We cahan talk abohout thihis!” Leo giggled, putting his hands up as a way to try and stop Raph from…whatever him and Donnie were planning. Well- he did know what they were planning which is why he’s TRYING his very best not to think about it too much…

Now, don’t get Leo wrong, he can be a menace. He’s been called it many many times by different people, which he takes a LOT of pride in. And he can become even MORE a menace when he’s tickling one of his brothers. To funny remarks to rib-counting to teases. Leo was one scary of a Ler and that was just something you just couldn’t deny. 

But sadly, the universe wouldn’t allow Leo to be the only scary Ler in the family. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 older siblings that were terrifying as FU- fudge when it came to tickling.

When it came to Raph and Donnie, they were just…vile. Finding every single possible way to tickle and fluster they’re Lee until they can’t even think straight. 

Since Raph was, like, a TITAN in turtle form, it’s completely impossible to escape him while he’s wrecking you. And since he’s the eldest he will just go on and on and ON about how he was “The best Tickle Monster.” And that stupid thing he would always do was give “Raph-berries.” Basically raspberries but he’s nibbling you as well and it was TORTUROUS. 

Now Donnie was an evil force to be reckoned with. For one, he would cheat. The softshell would use his spider arms to ping your arms up so you couldn’t squirm. And worst of all he would pretend as if him wrecking you was a whole big science experiment. Testing out his “hypothesis” or whatever other big words Donnie knew. 

So getting that out of the way, Leo knows he’s absolutely dead. Deceased. Expired. 6 feet under…

The red eared slider just knows he’s completely screwed. Based on the facial expressions, body language and overall demeanor of his older brothers, the two were out for revenge. And Leo and Mikey being more sensitive than them, (Leo being a tad bit more ticklish than Mikey), they knew they couldn’t stand a chance. All the two were doing was wiggling their fingers and Leo and Mikey were giggly messes…

“Talk about what, little brother? Talk about how you scared the living heck outta me with all those posters of Mrs. Cuddles that you put all over my room?” Raph taunted, stepping closer and closer to Leo making the younger giggle more frantically.

 “I-Ihit wahas funny though!” The younger one stammered, “Actually, now that you mention it…SHE’S RIGHT THERE, LOOK!” Leo screamed, pulling out a completely terrified look out of nowhere pointing somewhere ahead of him, pretending where he was pointing was Mrs. Cuddles.

Hey, he’s not called the Face-man for nothing! 

“Wait- WHAT? WHERE?!” Raph screamed, frantically looking around Donnie’s lab to try and spot Mrs. Cuddles. But the only thing he saw was a certain red eared slider running away from him.

Well played…

That little shit.

Before Leo could attempt to try to hide somewhere in the lab, Raph came from behind him, picking the younger up and putting him on his shoulder, carrying him to the middle of the lab where Donnie and Mikey were. Donnie already “captured” Mikey, using his spider arms to hold his arms so he couldn’t try and run away again. 

Leo started to hit the back of Raph’s shell, squirming to try and get out of the older’s hold as a bunch of giggly threats flooded out of his mouth. The snapper only rolled his eyes, poking Leo in the side causing the him to let out a surprised shriek followed by frantic laughs. “Don’t forget the position you're in, bud.”

“Yohou guhuys! Plehease dohon’t- noHO Deehee!” Mikey squealed as Donnie released him from his tech arms, sitting down on the carpet floor and pulling him into his lap as Raph did the same thing with Leo, sitting a little bit across from Donnie. Before the young genius could pin Mikey’s hands up- as he originally planned on doing, the youngest retracted into his shell, giggling smugly as Donnie tried to get him out by knocking on his shell repeatedly. 

“Hey! You can’t do that!” Donnie said, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. “Toohoo bad. I juhust did.” Mikey taunted, happy he found a way to escape Donnie’s tickly wrath.

Leo, about to go into his shell too was immediately caught by Raph. The older held up his arms, grinning and raising a brow. “Where do you think you’re going, Lee?” Raph asked, chuckling as Leo plastered a nervous smile on his face. 

“Nohowhere…” The red eared slider giggled, looking around anywhere but Raph’s face before looking towards his younger brother who was soon about to break by the demon you would call Donatello.

“DeEHEE! NahAt the tUHuhUmmY!” Mikey squealed, squirming in his shell trying to get away from Donnie’s tickly fingers that were now dancing across his stomach. The older shook his head, grinning at the sound of the youngers frantic laughter.

“Then get out of your shell and fight like a real man!” Donnie taunted, which only caused Mikey to whine throughout his giggles but not coming out of his shell. Suddenly, Donnie stopped tickling his tummy, poking at the boxer turtle’s lower rib. “Boop.”

The younger's reaction was almost immediate as he came out of his shell completely to grab at Donnie’s wrists. “There we go~! See! Was that so hard?” Donnie smiled innocently, using his spider arms to pin Mikey’s arms up. Donnie just smiled at Mikey as Raph let go of Leo to begin tickling his sides.

“Pfft- nohohoho!” Leo giggled, hugging his middles and squirming a bit as Raph lightly scratched around his sides. The older one laughed in amusement, raising a brow and grinning at his reaction. “No? No, what? You two brought this upon yourselves!”

“Oho screw ohohoff!” Leo retorted, pushing at Raph’s wrists as Donnie just continued to look at the youngest, not doing anything quite yet. 

“Whahat?” Mikey asked, looking at his older brother who’s face looked like he was solving the worlds hardest math problem- but the genius probably did stuff like that for fun anyway.

“Hm? Oh…nothing. Just trying to remember where you’re most ticklish, Angelo…I can’t quite seem to remember…” The softshell muttered, crossing his arms and looking up intensely at his midnight purple ceiling.

“Wha-?! Whahat ahare yohou tahahalking about??? Yohou know my worst spot!” Mikey giggled, rolling his eyes at his brother who only shook his head. “My apologies, Mikey. I sadly do not. But…perhaps you could possibly tell me?” Donnie smiled, a smile which only caused Mikey’s face to go a bright red. “I aham nohot telling! Yohou already know!” 

Donnie laughed at the younger one’s answer, starting to trace his fingers along the place where Mikey’s shell met his neck- a known melt spot spot for the youngest. Mikey giggled slightly at the sensation, squirming a bit under Donnie’s hold. 

"Are you ticklish anywhere else?" Donnie asks, not stopping his tracing, looking down at his younger brother’s face that indeed looked like a tomato- which is really weird because he hasn’t even tickled him for that long!

“Noho! I’m not! Juhuhust lemme gohoho!” Mikey squealed, kicking his legs trying oh so desperately to get off his older brother’s lap. “No? You're lying to me, aren't you?" Donnie chuckles, still not stopping as he continued to trace Mikey’s melt spot. 

“I bet you're super ticklish. I just need to find the right spots! Just tell me where, and I'll be sure to avoid it like the plague." He pauses, giving the younger a chance to tell him where he was ticklish (because Donnie obviously didn’t know!). His voice was low and teasing now, a playful, taunting inflection in his words. "Or should I just start tickling you until I find out myself?"

Mikey just giggled, shaking his head and stomping his feet on the ground- determined to try and escape while he still could. “That's a yes, then?" Donnie chuckles, smiling a little to himself. "Alright, I'm going to take your lack of response as permission to tickle you." The softshell merely said as he now started to tickle the younger’s exposed underarms.

“HeHEY!” The boxer turtle shrieked, trying his best to squirm away from his older brother. “ThaHAT TIHIckles yohoU BiHIHiG jeHerk!” Mikey cried, regretting his words as soon as they came out. 

“Does it?" Donnie chuckles in fake surprise, continuing to tickle Mikey’s underarms, his hands being gentle- not getting to his worst spots…not yet at least. “You really shouldn’t have said that, Mike~!” He remarks, smiling as the younger one only laughed more at the tease. The second oldest soon began to pick up the pace of his tickly fingers, laughing as Mikey tried to hide his face in his elbow- not being able to hide them in his hands since his arms were pinned up.

“What are you squirming around for, hm?” I vividly remember you saying you weren’t ticklish anywhere else…” Donnie stated matter-of-factly. “IHI LIhihiED, AhaLRIGHT? Ihi lihihIED- dOHOn PLEHease! QuiHIT IHIT!” The younger admitted, his laugh muffled from hiding his face away in his arms.

“Do you hear that, Raph? This little shit lied to me! Can you believe that?!” Donnie cried dramatically before lightly scratching his fingers at the sides of Mikey’s neck- making the younger let out a high-pitched squeal; not hiding in his arm anymore as he threw his head back in full blown laughter. 

“I wouldn’t be lying to Donnie if I were in your position, Mike. Just saying.” Raph said casually as if there wasn’t a red eared slider in his lap, laughing his shell off and squirming like he’s being electrocuted. 

“And you. Stop squirming so much! Your making it hard to get your good spots!” Raph playfully scolded down at Leo, tickling at the younger’s ribs, chuckling as Leo grabbed his wrists and uselessly tried to pull them away. 

“Ihi’m gOHOnna gEhet yohOU guhuys baHAHAck soho bahahad yoHOu’ll wiHIsh yohOU neHEver knew meehee!” Leo threatened, lightly punching the air in hopes to hit Raph. Which- none of them did. But hey, A for effort, right?

“Oho I bet you are.” Raph laughed sarcastically as he began to tickle Leo’s stomach. “Someone has a ticklish tum-tum, I see~?” Raph teased as Leo’s face began to go almost as red as the oldest’s bandanna. “DOOHOO *snort* naHAT CAHaLL IhiT THAHAT!” Leo squealed, kicking his legs and throwing his head back in hysterics. 

“RAHAHPHIEEEE! PLEHEASE! STAHAP IHIT!” Leo cried, still trying to grab at Raph’s hands as they were lightly pushed out of the way each time he tried. Raph smirked as the younger pleaded, only making Raph tickle his stomach more lightly- almost feather-like. 

“I will stop as soon as you and Mikey apologize!” Raph smiled. “Agreed. As soon as you two apologize, we’ll stop reminding you two just how ticklish you are.” Donnie exclaimed as he began to knead Mikey’s thighs. The box turtle shrieked, kicking his legs in hopes that the kicking will make it harder for Donnie to tickle him there. 

“NAHAHA! DEEHEE! NAHAT *squeak* THEHEHERE!” Mikey squealed, still kicking his legs but Donnie’s hands stayed firm as he began to knead harder. “IHIT TIHIHICKLES! DAHANNIE *squeak* PLEHEASE *squeak* STAHAP!”

“Hm? What? What’s so funny Angelo?” Donnie asked, looking back at his younger brother who- by the way- looked like a full on turtle tomato. “WEEHEE’RE SORRY!” Mikey cackled. Donnie nodded his head, looking at Raph but not stopping tickling Mikey. 

“Hey, did Leo apologize yet?” Donnie asked. “Nope! Which I think is a bit rude considering your situation don’t you think, Leo?” Raph asked, stopping tickling Leo to let him breathe as Donnie did the same with Mikey. 

“Yohou are thehe woHORST older brohohother eveher…” Leo giggled at Raph, knowing he was absolute dead meat after that comment but couldn’t help himself. Mikey made a teasing ‘ooooh~!’ sound, giggling at Leo���s comment to they’re eldest brother. 

“Personally, I wohohould nohot tahake that amount of disrespect…” Mikey giggled as Raph only sighed, shaking his head before smirking. Raph flipped Leo around so that his shell was facing the ceiling- and as he did so Leo felt as if his soul left his entire body. 

Leo and his big mouth…

“AHAHA! NOHO! NOHO WAHAIT *snort* A SEHEHECOND!” Leo panicky giggled, kicking his legs and lightly punching on Raph’s thighs. “Waitwaitwaitwait- lehet’s tahalk- RahaHAHAPH! RAHAHAPH WAHAHAIT!” Leo giggly panicked, his laughter increasing as Raph slowly lowered his head to the back Leo’s knees, ALMOST touching it with his face. 

“What? Wait for what?” Raph grinned, waiting for Leo to reply but the only response he got from the slider was snorting cackles. Raph took a deep breath before blowing a raspberry on the back of Leo’s knees, causing the younger turtle to go absolutely mad in laughter. Leo covered his face with his hands, muffled cackles bouncing around the walls along with Mikey’s squeaky cackles as Donnie gave raspberries to Mikey’s stomach. 

“Jeeheez…you guys are really ticklish, huh~? I wonder how long they could last…what do you think, Don?” Raph asked before going back to blowing raspberries on the slider’s knees, not showing him any mercy now. 

“I estimate about 3 more minutes or so…but it doesn’t really matter because I don’t plan on stopping until I hear an apology from Leo~!” Donnie tauntingly sang, laughing as Leo and Mikey’s laughs became more louder after that. “Besides, these two had what was coming to them for a while.” 

Mikey absolutely paled at Donnie’s tease. This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t fair one bit! He already apologized! He surrendered!But because of Leo’s stupid comment and the denial that’s he’s the most ticklish out of all 4 of them, they’ll probably be here for an hour! 

“LEEHEEO! LEEHEEON *squeak* PLEHEHEASE! JUHUHUST AHAPOHOL- *squeak*” Mikey cackled as Donnie began to blow raspberries on Mikey’s ribs now, scribbling his fingers along his sides too.

“So? What’s it gonna be, Leo? Have you had enough?” The eldest asked as Leo only glared at him through his laughter, throwing his head back again. Leo shook his head, banging his fists on the carpet. The poor slider was trying to act high and mighty but was still squirming like a fish out of water trying to get back into the ocean…

Or, in this case, trying not to get tickled to pieces.

“Stop squirming, Leo. You aren’t going anywhere. I could do this allllll day.” Raph teased as he blew another raspberry on Leo’s stomach. “Well, scientifically speaking, you can.” Donnie said, stopping giving Mikey raspberries but still tickling his stomach with both hands. 

“I was doing some research for um…scientific purposes and I figured out that alligator snapping turtles and softshell turtles can hold they’re breaths for an hour. So, as long as we take certain breaths now and again we could blow raspberries on Leo and Mikey’s ticklish tummies for as long as we-“

“WEEHEE GEHET IHIT!!!” The two youngest screamed, not wanting to hear anymore of Donnie’s “scientific discoveries” about how him and Raph were the most devious ticklish monsters on the planet.

Donnie and his dumb-dumb research.

“Huh…you don’t say…” Raph smiled, trying to test Donnie’s theory about the whole “not needing to breath thing for an hour” thing. He blew probably like the millionth raspberry on Leo’s stomach. 

 And…Donnie was right! Not that he had one single doubt on his immediate younger brother’s genius of course! It just sounded too good to be true! He will definitely be using this tactic on Leo and Mikey in the future…and maybe April too! He’s definitely not scared of the aftermath of when he does that to her… 

Raph smiled, not being taking a single breath as he continued to give a raspberry to the back of one of Leo’s knees. Raph was enjoying this new skill he could do very well! Leo on the other hand…was going absolutely ballistic.

“NAHAO, *snort* AHANYWHERE *snort* EHELSE! NAHAT *snort* THEHE KNEEHEEHEES!” Leo screamed, punching Raph’s thighs lightly again. “Awh~? Why not~? Is this a bad spot, Lee?” Raph teased into Leo’s knees, finding this whole situation quite amusing indeed. 

“OHOMIGAHAHA-!!! YEHES! IHIT’S *snort* SOHO FREEHEEAKING BAHAHAD!” Leo cackled, not knowing what to do but just laugh and kick his legs. He was absolutely defenseless! There was nothing more he could do but just take it! “So…it tickles? Would you say this tickles too~?” Raph asked as he began to nibble at the back of Leo’s knees along with giving raspberries at the same time. Or, “Raph-berries” if you  will. 

“RAHAHAPH! NAHAH- *snort* IHI HAHATE YOHOHAHAH!” Leo snorted, his hands starting to flap against the carpet floor, making light thumping noises. 

Raph laughed, a smile still plastered on his face- but instead of that eat shit-and-die” expression he had on earlier, this smile was way more fond. 

Fun fact: Anytime Leo was tickled by his siblings, he younger would start happy stimming with his hands. His siblings think it’s the most adorable thing ever- much to Leo’s disagreement.

And it was so funny because he couldn’t even deny that he hated being tickled (even though he did anyway)! The evidence was right there!

“You didn’t answer my question, little bro! Does it tickle?” Raph pressed on, eager to get an answer out of his younger brother. “ *YEHES! MY GAHAHAD! OHOBVIOUSLY!” Leo screamed, still trying to kick Raph off of him.

“Just making sure!” The oldest smiled sweetly, still not stopping his new ability on  the second youngest’s knees. Leo whined throughout his cackles, covering his face once more. “Don’t be like that, little bud! You know you love it!” Raph teased. 

“NAHAO *snort* THE HEHEHELL IHI *snort* DOHOHON’T!” Leo screamed, happy stimming with his hands again.

“Your body language says otherwise, bud.” Raph teased back. 

Back with the PB&J Duo, Donnie an idea sparked in the genius’ head. His eyes sparkled as he grinned at Mikey- causing the youngest to gulp in nervousness. He knew what his older brother was planning…

“Dohonatello- Dohon’t yohou dahahare…” Mikey warned, glaring at Donnie as a warning. But that so-called warning only made Donnie laugh. “Oh I dare. Oh I so, so dare, Angelo.” Donnie taunted before blowing raspberries on Mikey’s plastron where his ribs would be. 

The younger let out a glass shattering squeal, causing Donnie and everyone in the lab to flinch a bit. But like Leo- Mikey can’t really do anything but just laugh at this point. 

“PLEHEHEHEASE! DAHAN- *squeak*! STAHAP!” Mikey cackled, kicking Donnie in the side with his knees which only caused Donnie to chuckle. “I think our little brothers have mutated into a pig and mouse.” Raph laughed, both him and Donnie laughing at the comment- because they couldn’t really deny that fact that. 

“OKAHAY! OKAHAY!” Leo screamed, his hands flapping on Raph’s thighs repeatedly. The older chuckled at the gesture, fighting every ounce of him not to take a picture with Donnie’s phone right now at the younger’s adorableness. “Okay, what Lee~?”

“IHIHI’M SAHAHARRY!!” Leo snorted, his hands still flapping happily and Raph couldn’t help but laugh fondly at it. “Should we let them go, Raphie?” Donnie asked, still nibbling at Mikey’s plastron but eyes on Raph, waiting for his answer. 

“Yeheah, we should. We don’t want to accidentally kill them...” Raph said to his immediate younger brother, chuckling at his own joke. The two oldest stopped tickling the two youngest, letting the two just relax in they’re laps; trying to catch they’re breaths.

“Oho my gohod….” Leo breathed out, turning to his side so he could see both Donnie and Mikey. Raph laughed as he rubbed the younger one’s head; trying to soothe him. The younger teen squirmed, holding Raph’s wrist as the older laughed some more. “I’m not gonna tickle you, bud.” He said, continuing to rub Leo’s head as the red eared slider stopped holding his wrists, excepting the gesture. 

“Thahat was fuhun!” Mikey giggled with Leo, sitting up and leaning on Donnie’s plastron- now being able to use all of his limbs. The softshell then used his spider arms to give the pranking duo two glasses of water- which the two happily accepted. 

“Speak fohor yourself…” Leo giggly grumbled, putting the finished glass of water to the side after drinking it and leaning on Raph’s plastron. 

“So! I guess now you two know not to mess with your older brothers, right?” Donnie asked, wrapping Mikey in a hug before lightly squeezing his sides, causing the younger to let out a screech. “YeHES! We learned our lesson, okahay?! Jeeheez! Couldn’t you have warned us in text or something?” Mikey whined, pushing at Donnie’s face lightly.

“Nah. This was way more fun.” Raph and Donnie both said, smiling as the two youngest groaned fondly at they’re answer to Mikey’s question. 

——————————————————————

This fic has been a WIP for a LONG ASS TIME so I decided to finish as soon as my stupid exams ended and post it lol-

But srsly- I love this HC for Raph and Donnie sm it’s so evil <3 I hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :D

(Also sorry if the phrasing and/or pacing is weird- this is my first time writing with two lees and two lers- I dunno what I’m doing 😭💀😂)

P.S. Since Summer just started for me I will be able to work on more of my WIP’s so keep watch for ‘em :p

[sailforvalinor]

…well, turns out changing to a Jo pfp is fitting in more ways than one.

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

kdramas really make and release a whole episode where the guy breaks up with his annoying insignificant girlfriend and from next episode onwards nobody ever mentions that he actually and genuinely tried to break up with her. even he himself never mentions it again whenever the second lead accuses him of two-timing

[lilacerull0]

i feel so stupid

[whenthegoldrays]

Perpetually in a love-hate relationship with Gerwig films

[nucksaid]

.

[leclarifies]

letters (MV33)

꒰ max verstappen x childhoodbestfriend! reader ꒱

synopsis┊it was confusing, even though you were continents apart, you never understood why max never responded to your letters, until you attend the belgium gp to finally get the answers you were looking for. inspired by the prompt, "why did you never reply to my letters?" "you wrote me letters?"

genre┊ fluffy, the fluffiest fluff i've ever fluffed.

word count┊ 4.4k

aria yaps┊ i have worked on this non-stop for two days, and i loved the way it turned out, maybe one of my favorite works. enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing this!!

SECOND PART

she was always around max, either from the sidelines or the first person max ran to when he won a race, it was always her. not even his father, even though he held his father to the highest regard, but it was always her.

the little wrinkles on the edge of her eyes when she smiled at him, the way her lips would curl up, or the way she would giggle every. single. time. that he would come and hug her after every race finish. he remembers it all. and the way he would snuggle his face in the crook of her neck and asked her softly after he would win a race, 'did you see me win, schatje?'

she would always smile back with a laugh, 'of course i did maxie.'

it was always about max, her life revolved around him, whether he liked it or not. she adored him and maybe he adored her a little bit more. they were childhood friends, they were inseparable since they were little babies, their mothers being friends made it even harder for the both of them to not be attached at the hip.

she loved being in his presence and he loved her.

the divorce between jos and sophie was hard on max, he blamed himself and his career but she was always there to tell him that it's not his fault. that their decision was their own and she never forgot to tell max that it wasn't his fault, no matter how much they told him that it was.

she saw the way jos had pushed max to his limits, get physical with his own son and his way of escaping that life was run to her arms, she was there tending to every bruise, every wound whether physical or emotional. she was his rock and it was final. nothing anyone could ever say or do would change his name.

"schatje," max had gently woken her up from her slumber, and she stirred awake from his soft voice, she noticed where she was and finally remembered what happened.

max had finished lower than expected and jos had thrown hurtful things about max, she was there on his mother's couch, comforting him and had fallen asleep that way, with max on her lap, "are you sleepy?"

she shook her head, not wanting to admit that yes, indeed she was sleepy, but if max needed comfort then that wasn't a big deal to her, "what's wrong maxie?"

"nothing, you can sleep on my bed if you're tired. i can sleep here," max had brushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear but she refused, she hated taking his bed because she knew how uncomfortable the couch was, she wanted him to sleep well.

but he wouldn't allow her to take the couch, so they both slept on sophie's couch almost cuddled with eachother because they were both stubborn.

max was necessarily content with how he was living his life right now, but she made it better and that's all he could ask for. was it her smile? maybe her presence? max didn't care. the first memory he could remember from his early childhood was her, and it was etched into his memory like stone.

she was content with being max's rock, she was there to keep him grounded and she too only had memories of him from her early childhood. she wouldn't replace him for the world, he was too precious for anything in this earthly world.

but there was one day, it felt like a bomb dropped on her. her father had told her that he would have to move to korea to continue work, and she didn't know how to break the news to max until a few days before she had to leave.

she knew it was wrong to keep something this big away from max, but she was so stricken with anxiety that she never got the chance to until max came over to her house and saw all the packed boxes with their belongings.

"why didn't you tell me sooner?" max was angry, she could tell, by the way he was pacing around her room, looking at the packed boxes around. max thought he meant more to her than just a measly friend, he felt frustrated— betrayed almost. why wouldn't she tell him? why would she keep something as big as this away from him?

"why didn't you say something before? why now? why before you could see me race this weekend?" max was raising his voice now, and she didn't know what to do. her eyes turned glassy and those doe eyes max loved so much just looked so sad.

she stayed quiet, a guilty look on her face. she knew max would break from the news, and she knew that it would affect his performance, but she didn't know how to stay, how to convince her father that she didn't want to go, so yet again, she stayed silent in important moments of her life.

"schatje, can you say something? say anything?!" max yelled and she flinches, she didn't know what to say or what to do, she wanted to say something, say anything. but nothing would come to her lips. it was so hard for her when he was angry like this, it reminded her of his father and his father was deathly scary when angry.

a sigh escapes max's lips when he sees her flinch, coming close to her to wrap her in a hug. tears escaped from her eyes as she held onto max tight, "i didn't know how to tell you," she whispers into max's ear but max didn't say anything to that, just held her even tighter and he did not want to let go.

"it's okay schatje, i'm not mad at you. i could never get mad at you, i'm sorry for raising my voice. i just don't want you to go," tears started to escape max's eyes too, he didn't want to see her go. he wanted her to stay, and she did too. but the universe was pulling them apart and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

the ride to the airport was tough, being only fifteen and sixteen respectively. max held her hand the entire time, not wanting to let go, he didn't want her to leave, she was his biggest support system and he couldn't imagine her gone like that.

she was the most scared of the two of them, what if her father never returned to belgium? what if she was stuck there in korea forever? what if she never got to see his pretty blue eyes anymore?

max was the one to ground her, no longer lost in her thoughts, "can you promise me we'll keep in touch? or maybe visit from time to time?" max was holding onto her hands tightly, she felt like they would bruise, she could only smile and nod.

her mother had called her over, it was time to go. she looked at max for what it felt like the last time and left her life in belgium.

dear schatje,

hi, this is the first week that you're gone and it's bene been so hard without you here with me. i forgot that you weren't here anymore and i was expecting to see your face, but when i didn't, i may or may not have almost cried.

i miss you so much. tell me how it is in korea, is it cold? do they have bears there? what about the food? is it good? can you eat it? i heard there's a lot of spiy spicy food there? honestly i don't care about what they have there, i just care about you.

when can you visit again? can you tell me if you're ever coming back? i'm so worried about you there, i miss you... so much schatje.

written with a lot of love, your maxie.

max always handed off his letters to his father, telling his father to hand it off to his mother because apparently they kept in contact and wanted to send it off to the post office on behalf of him.

he just wondered how she was doing there.

it's been months and countless of letters max had sent, and none of them replied. he was starting to lose hope, he didn't want to think that his best friend would forget about him so easily like that, but he held out hope. he knew that she wouldn't magically forget about him now that she was there.

jealousy bubbled within him when he realized that she would be meeting new people, what if she met someone like him? who enjoyed karting and wanted to steal her attention?

no, he couldn't be thinking like that. he loved her and he knew she loved him as much as he did, so he told himself to just be patient, maybe letters to korea took months to reach?

the naviety was almost laughable but he was fine with it. he just wanted to hear back from his pretty girl.

"i do not understand why you keep writing letters to that stupid girl, she doesn't reply to you and all it does is distract you," jos had reprimanded his son, but max was stubborn. he didn't care what his father had to say, he loved all of her, even when she was thousands of kilometers away. he wanted to talk, even when she never replied.

max was in the process of writing another letter, but he never listened to his father, not about her. not about how much of a distraction she's been to his career, he didn't care. he used it as motivation to get better on the track, so the next time she saw him, he would be a world champion, that's what he silently promised to her.

it had been two years, and he hadn't heard a peep back. slowly, he was starting to lose hope but he couldn't lose hope, every single time he would send off the letters, he told himself that maybe it got lost in the mail.

max kept writing though.

max's debut in f1 was explosive to say the least, his interviews would absolutely go viral by the things he was saying in them. he didn't understand why, he just said what was on his mind.

what was truly on his mind was her.

was he not good enough for her? was him being in f1 not enough to impress her? why wouldn't she write back?

oh god how he missed her.

he still wrote to her weekly, it was religious at this point. he never forgot and he always told his father to send them off to his mother and the week after that was always disappointment because he wouldn't hear anything back.

little did he know, she never received those letters.

max had slowly stopped writing letters as he got into f1, he didn't see a point in it anymore. she never replied. she didn't care. letters didn't take years to reach korea, and he finally lost hope.

winning his first championship felt empty, the pretty girl who used to be waiting for him wasn't there for him anymore. of course, he was happy to win such an impressive feat, who wouldn't? but it just... lacked her.

max indeed lost hope that she would ever write back, but never lost hope that she was out there, somewhere, watching him race every single week and beat the shit out of his rivals. she loved watching him race and that's what he intended to do until the day he died, he wanted to impress her, maybe that was his ulterior motive to becoming a formula one driver.

all just to impress his best friend who had lost contact with him for a decade now.

"you need to stop figdeting so much," her mother had scolded her, she could only laugh nervously and stop fidgeting around. she wondered why max never wrote back to her, she had written him letters. did he hate her for moving out to korea and not coming to visit belgium?

she shook the thoughts out of her head, she was here now. for his home race, and for the rest of her life. her father had now decided to move back to belgium, because and i quote, 'i don't want my daughter to lose touch with her culture'.

she was 26 now, and she had guessed that he turned 27 not too long ago. it's been so long since she talked to him and she hoped that the spark that she had been yearning for had not been lost to the passages of time.

getting the paddock passes was not easy, it was a war and a half but she managed to snag some for herself and a friend that wanted to visit belgium and would arrive later on in the week.

"how did you even manage to get paddock passes for us?" heejin, her friend that wanted to visit had asked, she could only laugh and explain how she got them, it was a war and a half. heejin laughed along with her as they both arrived and scanned their passes at the entrance.

"i'm gonna meet my best friend here— well it's complicated. i don't think he considers me a best friend anymore, but i still do," she had softly told heejin who was a big formula one fan even before meeting her, heejin raised her eyebrow when she said that.

the both of them were walking down the paddock, passing all of the different team's hospitalities. heejin raised her eyebrow at her friend, who shrugged.

"who's your best friend?" heejin had asked as they pass by the red bull hospitality, she stopped which signalled heejin to stop as well, she looked at the redbull in awe. she hadn't been to a formula one race yet, the closest she'd been was to karting but that didn't bring on the feelings she felt when standing in front of this red bull building.

"well, he's driving the number one car."

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

max had heard a girl yell, he slowly turned his head. he was confused, he didn't have a best friend— well not anymore. she had moved to korea, all memories of her stuck in his head being replayed all over and over again.

that's all he had left of her.

the other girl shushed the girl who yelled, and that's when it dawned on max. the other girl looked awfully familiar, he couldn't quite place why she looked so familiar but she looked like her, like his best friend.

"shh! you can't just yell that out in public," she clamped a hand on her friend's mouth, "they're gonna think i'm insane!" then the both of them giggled, it did sound ridiculous but now he was curious.

was she back? was that her? who was she with? is that her new best friend? is that her?

as they both walked away, max wanted to run up to them, to ask that one particular girl what her name was. what she was doing here and who she was with but all of that died when he got approached by his race engineer.

then he forgot all about that familiar girl that he saw in front of the red bull hospitality.

max would only get another glimpse of her when it was race day, they were walking through the paddock in a similar fashion, but max promised to himself that he would approach them, that he would ask but there was doubt in his heart.

what if she forgot about him?

she couldn't, right?

and so approach them he did, tapping the girl that he felt was so familiar to on the shoulder, she had turned around and they had locked eyes.

it was as if she never left.

the sparks, they all came rushing back and then his heart started beating out of his chest, he wanted to ask so many questions, why she was here, who she was with, when she came back— why she came back, why she never wrote him back.

but the only thing that left his lips were a simple, "hi."

heejin was freaking out, she could tell. she knew that heejin was a big red bull fan too, always talking about how the team was dominating and they had the better car. she had heard all about it. but the little dutchboy she left all those years ago was standing in front of her and not-so little anymore and all those thoughts about her girlfriend was forgotten.

he looked the same, but grown and decked out in red bull merch. she wanted to laugh at how innocent he looked when he tapped her on the shoulder to get her to turn around, he looked stupid, stupidly cute.

all of those feelings from when she was back in belgium came back, she almost forgot what it felt like to be around max— her max. he looked like he was going to cry when he got a good look at her, that he finally realized that yes, it's her. the one that left him in belgium all those years ago.

and maybe she could cry too.

"maxie?" a familiar nickname slipped from her lips and she didn't get a response back, but a bear hug in return.

god, her scent. it was everything to him. he fucking missed it— miss her.

"i thought... i thought you forgot about me," max buried his face into the crook of her neck, she too wrapped her arms around max and buried her face into his chest. his voice was so vulnerable, all she wanted to do was curl around him and tell him that she would never.

she shook her head as she sank into the hug, "i could never forget my maxie," she mumbled into his chest, he held onto her tighter. he never wanted to let go, not now, not ever. she was where she was finally supposed to be, right in his arms.

once they got time alone after his race, max had stolen her away from her friend and dragged her into his driver's room, locking the door and pushing her against the wall, slamming his lips onto hers. he had been dreaming about this for so long, his lips on hers.

he didn't want to so sexual with her, no not yet. being in the small driver's room where they couldn't be free out of the public eye wasn't a good place. he just wanted to touch her, hold her, love her, make sure that she knew how much he had missed this.

missed them being together.

her hands instinctively went up to hold onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he kissed her softly. the feelings going through him were a mix of nostalgia, longing and love. he loved her for so long and it was so like her to show up when it mattered the most.

he won it for her today, to show her, that the little max she knew still had it in him to win and to impress her even with a world championship under his belt.

she felt the softness and the gentleness that max was touching her with, she knew how much he loved her. how much he care, how much he longed for her touch and she did too, only so much more.

she had so many questions in her, on why he never replied to the letters she sent or why he never sent any himself, not knowing what happened with her letters and why they never arrived properly.

but she didn't care at the moment, all she cared about was that she was safely in his arms, never to be let go ever again.

safe to say, her lips were to the point of bruising that night. max had forbade her to go back home, or to be away from his sight. he had kissed her silly, not wanting to let her go and there she was, settled nicely in his arms.

it's not like she wanted to go anywhere anyway.

the movie in the background was long forgotten, max's lips felt like they were molded for hers. he had waited for her for so long, waited to feel her skin after so long and this just felt right, it felt right when he was with her.

"maxie— mmhh— my love, stop," she had to talk in between kisses, max didn't want to let her go, his fingers were basically imprinted onto her waist. she was straddling max as he sat upright and kissed her, so softly. like she would break if he was any harder, even though he absolutely did want to kiss her harder.

max released her from the kiss with a pout, his pretty lips were red and swollen from all the kissing they did. everything in the world just seemed to fade into the background when they were together, like everyone else in this world was so insignificant for their time and they were the only people worthy of each other's time.

"but why? i wanna kiss you, i miss you. i have waited for you for ten years, the least you can do is let me kiss you until you're sick of me," max mumbled against her lips and all she could do was giggle.

god, her laugh, he loved it.

she shook her head and left a final peck on his lips, "because i want to talk maxie, we can't just kiss whatever questions we have for eachother away," she told him but he seemed to think otherwise, she had moved back to put a bit of distance in between them, to make sure max didn't go in to kiss her again.

"oh yes we can, i don't care about the questions, schatje. i just wanna be with you, just like old days, but now it's so different because in those ten years without you, i finally realized what i felt and how i felt for you and i can't wait any damn longer to finally kiss those pretty lips of yours, so please. just let me do this for another three hours and we can talk," max begged as he pulled her closer.

she couldn't imagine kissing for another three hours as they spent the last hour doing it, but with him? she would do it for another life-time if she could.

the both of them later had the serious talk when they were done kissing each other, now wanting answers from eachother. their legs were tangled and intertwined with each other's, not wanting to let go from their skin to skin contact.

"first off, why did you never reply to my letters? i wrote you so many. so many that i lost count, i would always write to you but you never replied, why?" max's voice came out strained, all of the painful feelings from the last ten years of his life were coming out, her doe eyes looked up from where she was, laying against his chest.

"you wrote me letters? i wrote you letters, you never replied. i thought you got too busy with your karting career to reply—"

"i could never get too busy to reply to you, but i never got any of your letters, schatje," max murmured against her forehead, kissing it gently after he spoke. she hummed a response before it dawned on her, she had always sent the letters to his father's address and she knew that his father wasn't fond of her, even offering her a huge lump sum of cash just for her to stay away from his son but she never accepted it, always choosing to be beside max, no matter what happened.

she looked up and sighed, she knew what happened now, she connected the pieces, "did you send your letters off to your dad?" she asked, and max nodded before it dawned on him too.

"that fucker hid the letters from you and never sent mine..."

she could only nod sadly, but it didn't matter now. all that mattered was that they were reconnected now.

scattered around them were the countless of letters max had written to her and all of the letters from her that he never received, the years of pining, longing— all of them tucked neatly away into these little envelopes that held all of those unsaid feelings.

a soft sigh escapes her lips, she looked at all of them, there were hundreds maybe. all of them posted to where she stayed in korea but never sent, always kept in a big box where all of his letters were and hers were stuffed in there in a similar fashion.

her heart clenched when she saw how many there were, there were far more many than whatever she sent, even though she did send quite a big sum.

when max had found out, he stormed into jos' house and demanded to ask why he never sent out the letters that he wrote and a big fight broke out, she had to hold of max from physically harming his own father. then they left after given the big box filled with letters.

"there's so many..." she watched in awe as all of them were sorted by date, from the latest to the earliest, max looked up at her with those big blue icy eyes of his, he looked really sad. stuck in his feelings almost, not understand why his father would do whatever he did in the past.

max held her hand gently, pulling her into his embrace, "i have always loved you, even when i was a little kid. i just didn't understand what those feelings were, i just acted on how i felt and being away from you... i just couldn't. so i sent you my love in the form of these letters."

she left a lingering kiss on his cheek, she felt sorry for having to leave all those years ago. she should've fought, should've stood her ground on how much she wanted to stay but she was just a 16 year old kid who didn't know how to, "i know. i'm sorry i had to leave all those years ago."

"don't apologize, schatje. i have never blamed you for leaving me. i have always held love for you in my heart, even if you didn't know it."

"i always knew max, and i still do."

very willing to do a part 2 to this btw, will only do it when requested tho. not proofread, excuse grammar mistakes.

[starkwlkr]

she’s always a woman | max verstappen

an: this fic is a special birthday fic for my lovely friend anto!! happy birthday love!! hope you enjoy your special day <3 also let’s just pretend that lewis wasn’t battling max for the championship in 2021 instead it’s max and the reader

tw: jos mention and narcissistic mother

Max couldn’t really remember why your friendship ended. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you had a bad race and needed some support, etc. He was always there so when you stopped talking to him, he was confused and hurt.

KARTING DAYS

At the time, the boys you raced against hated being beat by a girl. It was humiliating! A girl was faster than them? No way! But when Max Verstappen saw how fast you were, he was amazed. You made it look so easy.

“How many trophies do you have now?” Seven year old Max asked you as you two shared a bag of gummy bears, your favorite snack.

“I haven’t counted. What about you?” You questioned.

“I haven’t counted either.” He replied.

It was a long day of practice and all Max wanted to do was spend time with you and eat gummy bears. He noticed how you only ate certain colors like red, blue, orange and yellow. He asked why only those colors and your response was that those colors were your favorites, all the other colors looked unappetizing.

Spending time with you was something Max loved about karting. Most of the boys you competed with would rather lose than hang out with a girl, but not Max. He liked being around you. And it seemed like you liked having Max around too so it made no sense to Max why you stopped talking to him.

As time went on, Jos Verstappen kept a close eye on you. He certainly didn’t want some girl distracting his son. He kept telling Max how much of a bad influence you were, but of course Max didn’t listen. Why would he? He liked you and you liked him.

Unlike Max, your mother’s words went to your head.

“He’s just like the other boys, sweetheart. When you least expect it, he’s going to leave you heartbroken.” Your mother told you one day after another successful win. She watched the way Max stood next to you on the podium and clapped for you.

“But he’s my friend.” You said lowly.

“What did I say about this sport? You are not here to make friends, they are not your friends and neither is he. He’s competition and if you want to keep winning then you need to keep away from that boy!”

The next time Max saw you, he was the heartbroken one. Every time he kept trying to get your attention, you ignored him and turned the other way.

Did I do something wrong? Maybe I forgot her birthday? No, it was a month ago and we ate chocolate cake together.

All day Max was wondering what he did to make you upset. He had even brought a tiny bag with only red, blue, orange and yellow gummy bears for you. He had spent an hour picking out your favorite gummy bears and now you weren’t talking to him. . .

Little Max Verstappen had his first heartbreak at the hands of his first love.

The next day he figured you would start talking to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist in your world. He was starting to lose hope.

“Good, now you won’t have any distractions.” Jos told him after Max mentioned how you had stopped talking to him.

“But she wasn’t!”

“She was.” Jos confirmed.

Max stayed quiet. He knew it was no use trying to argue with his father.

As you both grew up, Max was beside you at every podium even if you weren’t on speaking terms. He hoped that maybe one day you would speak to him. He also kept a plastic bag in his bag with your favorite gummy bears to share with you in case that day ever came.

2021 SEASON

Max was both nervous and excited for the last few races of the season. Both you and him were battling for the championship. It was like a dream come true for him, both of you in Formula 1 and now you’re both in the championship picture. He wouldn’t have it any other way. To Max, it would’ve been better if you could at least acknowledge him.

It was after the Brazilian Grand Prix when Max wanted to congratulate you on your win, but had to wait until you finished with your interviews. He was eager to talk to you.

The post-race interviews were a whirlwind, but the moment that caught your attention was when a reporter, eager for a headline, asked you about Max Verstappen.

“We've heard that you and Max were childhood friends. What’s the story there? You two seem to be fierce competitors now. Was there any friendship left between you, or is it all business these days?"

Your smile tightened. It was the last thing you wanted to discuss, but you were a professional, and you knew better than to let your personal life spill over into the press room. Your gaze flicked to the corner where Max was conducting his own interviews, but you quickly refocused on the question.

“Max and I... we were friends, sure," you said coolly, your voice steady but your tone sharp, almost as if you were trying to distance yourself from the memory. "But that was a long time ago. I don’t really have time for friendships anymore. Racing’s my focus. It always has been."

“But you were so close back then," the reporter pressed. "Is it hard to battle him for the title, given your history?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure. "Racing's not about who you used to be friends with. It’s about who’s the best right now. And I’m focused on being the best."

“So, no hard feelings?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You didn’t miss a beat. "No time for feelings," you replied, your lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Just results."

After finishing all your interviews, you walked back to your driver’s room. All you wanted was to lay down and take a much needed nap, but the sweet voice of a Dutchman stopped you. It had been years since you heard Max say your name.

Before you could say anything, Max stood up abruptly and walked toward you, his stride purposeful. He reached out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip, pulling you into your room without a word.

“Let go of me, Max," you whispered, but your voice cracked.

“No," he said simply, his tone rough, but his eyes were soft—something in them that you hadn’t seen in years. "I’m not letting you walk away again."

Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, that fierce intensity you remembered from your childhood still present, though now mixed with something else—pain, perhaps. The unspoken hurt you both carried for so long hung between you two.

“Max," you began, but he cut you off.

“Why did you stop talking to me?" His voice was quieter now, but the question hung in the air, sharp and urgent. “Everyday i asked myself ‘did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt her?’ What is is? Why?”

Your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath, your eyes lowering to the floor. "You were my competition," you muttered. "And my mother… she made it clear. She said you would take everything from me. That I needed to stop talking to you or I’d lose everything." Your chest constricted, and you felt a sudden wave of bitterness rise within you. "She said you were nothing more than a threat to my future, and I had to focus—focus on winning.” It pained you to even remember all the talks your mother had with you about Max.

Max stared at you for a moment, taking in your words. The silence that followed was thick, the air between them charged with everything unspoken. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.

“I never wanted to take anything from you." His eyes were filled with a quiet sincerity that made your stomach twist. "I never asked for this. I never asked for us to be enemies."

Your breath hitched as a knot formed in your chest. You stepped back, your hands trembling. "But that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to beat you, to prove I was better. To make sure you didn’t have what I could have." Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion you had long kept hidden. "I—"

Your words faltered as you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. You tried to hold them back, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the competition, the years of silence—was too much. You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, feeling the dam break inside you.

Max didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his arms enveloping you in an instant. You stiffened at first, surprised by the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn't think. But then, something inside you snapped, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears finally came.

Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back, grounding you in the moment.

"I’m sorry," you whispered between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You kept repeating.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if offering you the comfort and understanding you had been denied for so long. "You didn’t deserve any of that." You clung to him, unable to stop the flood of emotions that had been building for years.

Eventually, the tears slowed, and the sobs turned into shallow breaths. Max didn’t let go. He stayed, a quiet anchor, as if he would hold you for as long as you needed.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes were swollen, your makeup smudged, but you felt something lighter—something like relief, like a door you hadn’t realized was closed had finally opened.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” You wiped away the tears.

“I don’t really care about him right now,” Max responded. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You need me right now.”

“Max, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You need to leave.”

“I’m a grown man. He can’t tell me who I can and any talk to.” He said.

“Then . . . I don’t care what my mother says either,” You declared. “You know, she said we couldn’t talk anymore because you were my competition. That I shouldn’t get too close to you. She thought it would make me weak."

“Your mom never understood that... you’re not my competition. You never were. You were my best friend. And I . . . I miss that.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Max.”

QATAR

The camera lights flickered on, and the usual hum of the media circus surrounded Max Verstappen as he sat in front of the press. Another victory under his belt, but the atmosphere in the room felt different today—slightly more tense than usual. The 2021 season was in full swing, and the rivalry between Max and his childhood best friend and fellow F1 driver, had become one of the most talked-about stories of the year.

“Max, earlier this week, someone that you knew quite well was quoted saying, ‘No time for feelings, just results,’ when talking about your past friendship. Given the intensity of your current rivalry, how do you feel about that statement?”

He took a breath and leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of emotion.

“she’s one of the most focused and driven people I know. I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to be in her head—how much racing means to her. She’s an artist, in every sense of the word, when it comes to driving. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

A brief silence fell over the room. Max seemed to weigh his next words carefully.

“We’ve both been through a lot over the years, and yeah . . . I get why she said what she did. This sport can make you say things you don’t always mean. It can make you choose things—like cutting ties with people who used to be your family, just so you can win. But trust me, it’s not easy for her. Or for me.”

His voice softened slightly, the edge of competition giving way to something more genuine—something rooted in your shared history.

“She’s not the kind of person to just forget about things or people. I know her better than anyone,” He continued. It was as if he could talk about you all day and never get bored. “As for the championship, yeah, It’s just the way it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I respect her more than anyone. She’s a hell of a driver, and I know what she’s capable of.”

Max leaned back slightly, the cool exterior of the driver once again overtaking his emotions. He was a fighter. And this season, he wasn’t just fighting for the title.

ABU DHABI

It had been weeks since your last conversation with Max, but occasionally you would sneak glances at each other. Maybe even smile at him, which caused the media to wonder if your friendship had finally been restored.

The paddock was bustling with the usual pre-race energy—team members darting around, engineers checking telemetry, and drivers preparing for what would be a pivotal race. But Max Verstappen was not focused on the usual chaos. He was standing in front of your motorhome, his jaw clenched as he faced a woman who had been an obstacle in his life for far too long: you mother.

All he wanted to do before the race was to wish you good luck but he had one problem that came in the form of your mother.

“This is a pivotal moment for her career, Max. The championship is on the line. She needs to focus.” Your mother spoke.

Max’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t need you to tell her how to focus. She’s not a child anymore. She’s not your puppet.”

She smirked, her gaze calculating. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle her. You, on the other hand, have always been a distraction. Just like you were when you were kids. I told her back then that you were competition. And look where we are now—competing for the championship.”

Max took a step forward, his voice low but sharp. “You don’t get to control her anymore. She doesn’t deserve the way you treated her. She never did. She’s not some tool for you to use to further your own agenda. She’s a person. A damn good one, too.”

Your mother raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smug grin. “And now you think you have feelings for her? After all these years? You’re wasting your time, Max.

Max’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of frustration coursing through him. He had always felt something for you—something deep and complicated—but he hadn’t realized how much until he saw you again. How could he not? The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him in a way no one else did. The way your presence grounded him when the world felt chaotic.

“I’m not wasting my time,” Max snapped, his voice rising. He was no longer just angry; there was something more vulnerable beneath his words. “I... I care about her. More than you’ll ever understand. And I’m not going to just stand by and watch you tear her down again.”

Her eyes widened, the smugness on her face faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly recovered, her icy demeanor back in place. “You think you can just waltz in and change everything, Max? You think she’s going to forget the way I’ve always looked out for her?”

Max’s pulse was racing now. “You’ve never looked out for her. You’ve held her back. You’ve made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself. Do you know how many times she’s questioned her worth because of you?”

Before your mother could reply, Max spoke again. “If you think for a second that I’m going to back off now, you’re wrong.”

Your mother glared at the Dutchman. “I’ve spent years in Formula 1, fighting for every ounce of respect, and now I’m fighting for her, too. And I’m not letting anyone—least of all you—tell me what I can or can’t feel about her.”

His words hung in the air between them, the weight of them settling in. He turned to leave, but paused at the door of your motorhome, looking back one last time.

“Tell her,” Max said, softer now, “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the finish line. I’ll always be waiting.”

Maybe your mother would pass on the message, maybe not. Either way, Max would still be waiting for you.

The roar of the crowd still echoes in the distance, but it’s muffled, almost surreal, as you stand behind the barriers, your helmet under your arm, heart still racing from the intensity of the race. The buzz of the paddock feels far away, and your body is heavy with exhaustion and disappointment. You finished second—close, but not close enough. Max had done it. He’d won the championship, after all the drama and all the battles that had led them to this final, decisive moment.

You lift your eyes and see him, standing by his car. Max, in his usual composed way, looking like he belongs there, like he's always belonged there, standing among the team and the media, all his focus, all his attention fixed on you. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he spots you, but it’s the way he’s standing, waiting, that hits you. Like he said he would.

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your mother’s words, about everything that has always been said about Max—his arrogance, his rivalry, the fact that he’s always been competition. But this, here, this feels like something different. He’s not the enemy anymore. At least, not in the way they used to think of each other.

You take a breath, and then, almost instinctively, you walk toward him. As you step closer, you hear the whisper of her mother’s voice in the back of your mind, a warning you’ve heard so many times before. Stay focused. Don’t let him distract you. He’s your competition, not your friend.

But your steps don’t falter. You reach him, and when you do, you look up at him, your gaze soft, not the hardened competitive stare it once was. Max’s grin deepens, though it’s filled with something almost bittersweet.

“I heard you were waiting for me,” You said, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is steady, but there’s a touch of vulnerability in it, something you can’t quite mask.

Max’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it feels like time pauses. He looks at you as if he’s not seeing the driver, the fierce competitor, but the girl he used to know—the one he used to race against in karting, the one who once shared the same dream, the one who still, in some ways, understands him better than anyone else.

“I told you I would,” he replies quietly, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Your mind flashes back to the words he said to your mother, the promise he made—I’ll always be waiting.

“You won. Congratulations.”

Max’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, a quiet understanding that goes beyond just racing. He takes a step closer, his voice a little softer now. “You’re better than you think. I have a feeling you’ll take it away from me next year.”

You shake your head, but there’s no bitterness in your gesture. “Next year,” you repeat. Your fingers press the edge of your helmet tighter, almost like you’re grounding herself in this moment. But there’s something else too—a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you’re here.”

Max’s smile is genuine now. “I’ll always be here. Waiting for you to finally beat me.”

You laugh—a real laugh this time, one that’s not forced. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day,” you say, your voice a little lighter. “You should go with your team, I’m sure they’re waiting to drown you in champagne.”

Max chuckles, then steps forward. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in the midst of the chaos, everything else fading into the background. You breathe in, realizing just how much this—this moment—matters more than the championship itself.

“So, Max, you’ve just won the title, but there’s a lot of talk about your competitor. She’s been called ‘too emotional’ in the past by some. What’s your take on how she handled this title fight?”

Max turns towards the reporter, a protective energy surging in him. He absolutely hated doing interviews, all he wanted to do was get back to you. “Well, for one, I think anyone who says she’s ‘too emotional’ is clearly not paying attention. She’s one of the most focused drivers out there. Honestly, anyone who thinks you can compete in this sport at the level we’ve been at, especially in the last few races, without being deeply passionate—well, they don’t understand what it takes.” He glances over at you, who’s trying to hide a smile while also looking frustrated with the question.

While you were a few feet away from him doing your own interview, you could hear Max. You tried hard to listen to the interview questions, but all you wanted to do was listen to what Max had to say.

“isn’t it a bit too much? The way she gets in her own head. She’s been—well, let’s just say, a bit of a perfectionist this season.”

Max shook his head, chuckling at the reporters words. “But, you know, that’s exactly why she’ll be winning a championship someday soon. I have no doubt about it, but I’m excited for the day she takes my championship away.”

Max could hear you burst into laughter at his words. His smile grew ten times bigger. “Seriously, though, she’s one of the most talented drivers I’ve ever known. she’ll steal the show when you least expect it. And maybe she’s a little bit hard to understand at times, but that’s exactly what makes her great.”

The reporter nodded. “Are you saying she’s like, uh, the Billy Joel song?” He asked confused.

Max grinned, clearly amused by the confusion. “She’s always a woman to me. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain it, but you get the idea.”

You chuckled once again as you heard Max. He really had a way with words.

“And one day, I’ll be watching her take the title with the same respect I have for her right now.”

That’s when you decide to step in after finishing your interview. “Maybe, Max. But for now, I think I'll let you have your moment. You’ve earned it.”

“We both did. I owe it all to you.”

[stunie]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “DID YOU JUST FAKE THAT, PRINCESS?”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + FAKING AN ORGASM. ft. hayato suo, sakura haruka, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

content: explicit smut (18+), overstimulation, squirting, fingering, cunninglingus, phone call / keep quiet, mirror sex, multiple rounds, creampies, usage of pet names, praise

part 1: ft. yamato endo, kiryuu mitsuki, & kaji ren

mdni - 2K wc . filled request! (i added togame) :>

HAYATO SUO. mirror sex

"h-how!”

your reaction is adorable, drawing a lighthearted chuckle from your boyfriend. you squirm a bit, face pressed uncomfortably against your vanity’s mirror as you’re bent over your own desk, a smiling suo looming right over you.

"well...you didn't replicate it very well," he coos, "i'm surprised you thought i would fall for that."

you narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. there was absolutely no chance that he was able to differentiate between a real one and a fake one— you’re certain of it. you had even mimicked the way your walls flutter around him whenever he pushes you off the edge.

“don’t believe me?” his voice comes out steady, cock prodding at your entrance, “i’ll show you.”

you gasp at the feeling of his length stretching your walls, pushing until just the tip is inside. he’s holding you tightly, not letting you move when you impatiently try and push your hips back for more.

“s-suo,” you blurt, “stop teasi—”

all at once, he’s slamming his hips into you, your tongue lolling out when he’s buried deep inside you. he doesn’t give you time to steady yourself before he sets a brutal pace, fingers coming to swipe perfectly at your clit. “see?” his voice comes out cheerful despite the way he’s bullying his length into you so roughly, “this is closer to the kind of faces you make for me.”

it’s all happening too fast. before you know it, you’re shivering and whining beneath him, arms knocking over your bottles of skincare as you try to brace yourself to take him. he’s awfully composed, subtly angling himself to slam against the spot that has you seeing stars. your orgasm approaches you so fast, faster than ever before, and it’s overwhelming.

“w-wait, suo, slow down—” you stammer, thighs shaking violently as the knot inside you threatens to snap. “it’s too much! ‘m gonna-”

“and you know? when i do this,” he interrupts sweetly, fingers coming to rub at your clit just as his cock pushes against a sensitive spot, “you’ll cum for me.”

it hits you in an instant, eyes widening when the familiar wave crashes through you, walls spasming against his length as you scream. your vision is still a blur even when he slows down his pace, dotted with white and black splotches. you can barely register what’s happening when suo’s hands come to run up and down your body as he sighs contentedly.

“see? like that,” he nods, “it’s easy.”

his length is still inside you, switching to slow and steady thrusts as you tremble beneath him. "don't worry. i'll show you again so you remember."

SAKURA HARUKA. squirting, cunninglingus, fingering

sakura’s fingers leave your clit the second he realizes something isn’t right, because you’re usually much louder and messier than this. he pulls back from your cunt for a second, head hot and blurry from nerves, and the violent blush across his face deepens as he forces himself to get a closer look at your cunt.

it all makes sense when he realizes he was touching the wrong spot— most likely due to the fact that his eyes had been clenched shut.

“y-you didn’t tell me,” he grumbles out of embarrassment, gaze shifting anywhere except on you. even with an apology and the explanation that you just wanted to make him more comfortable, the thought of how’d you look actually cumming on his face doesn’t leave his head.

he’s buried in your cunt now, your thighs clenched tightly around his head as he fucks his fingers deep into you. sakura had no idea just how addicting it would be when you first mentioned it to him— each moan that leaves your lips more sinful and loud than the last. it has his cock throbbing with need, forcing him to grind his hips against the mattress to relieve the frustrating ache.

“oh my god…” you mumble to no one in particular, mouth falling open when he pushes his tongue inside your cunt, eating you out with more intensity as his fingers come to press into your clit. “sakura—”

it’s dizzying, but he wants more. his free hand comes to dig into your ass, lifting you up a bit so he hold you flush against his face, licking and slurping at your cunt even as your thighs squeeze roughly against his head. “ah— fuck, sakura, w-wait!”

the way he’s eating you out feels different than what you’re familiar with. the knot in your core feels tighter, you feel wetter— he feels better. your hands come to desperately tug at his hair when it’s too much, and his eyes widen when you unintentionally push him deeper into your cunt.

the pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit one last time is all it takes for you to scream, cunt gushing into him as he licks and suckles at your clit. your walls flutter around nothing, your body numbing from the intensity— but your boyfriend looks the opposite.

“again,” his voice is just above a growl, cheeks still glowing red with embarrassment, “let me practice again.”

TOGAME JO. phone call / keep quiet, overstim

the sudden ringing of his phone catches the attention of the two of you, screen lighting up brightly as it vibrates against the mattress. togame’s thrusts slow down a bit, reaching to fish it from somewhere underneath the blankets to check the caller.

"ah, it's choji."

his voice comes out completely normal, as if he wasn’t balls deep inside your cunt just moments ago. it’s almost irritating how limitless his stamina is; your body numb and overstimulated since long ago, and all you’re able to do now is lay there and take what he gives you.

it takes all your energy to try and pull away from him to let him take the call, struggling a bit with the way his big frame is towering over yours, but he suddenly pulls your hips back against his own.

“jo!” you warn through a hushed whisper, eyes narrowing into a glare as the cheerful melody of his ringtone repeats itself again. your eyes widen when he puts a finger to his lips to silence you, and you realize that he’s planning on answering it without stopping.

a hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up until your back is flush against his chest, his thickness nestled right against your cervix with the angle. “gonna stay nice and quiet for me while i answer choji,” he coos into the shell of your ear, “won’t you?”

“because we’re not done just yet..”

your body falls back onto the mattress when he lets go, and you grasp onto one of your pillows to stuff your face into when he resumes his pace, starting slow and deep.

“choji?” togame asks, lifting the phone to his ear to tuck it between his shoulder casually. “ah..today?”

his hands hold your hips firmly as he picks up the pace, balls slapping against your clit as his tip prods at your cervix with each movement, and you can only hope it’s not loud enough for the mic to pick up. togame feels differently than usual, the drag and stretch of his length against your walls much more noticeable when you’re trying to keep quiet.

“that’s really last minute….mhm,” a small grunt forces its way out, “i’ll come after i finish what i’m doing here.”

there’s a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the little yelp that escapes your lips. togame stiffens above you, hands gripping your hips to keep you still as the two of you wait to see if choji had heard you.

“noise…? nah, it must have been my phone. it’s old.”

your thighs are trembling against his, knot inside your core still threatening to snap even after he’s ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. “let me check the door though. hold on,” togame clicks the mute button before tossing his phone beside your head, suddenly pounding into you with more strength.

“f-fuck!” you cry when his cock hits a particular spot inside you, and you’re cumming just like that, gushing around him and screaming as your walls fluttering wildly against him. there’s a deep groan from him as he clenches his jaw, pace not faltering as he rapidly approaches his own high.

he lets you fall limp onto the bed, mind numb from each orgasm he’s pulled from you after your stunt tonight. “you gotta stay quiet,” he rasps, hands still holding your hips up for him, “wouldn’t want choji to hear you getting stuffed full for the third time tonight, right?”

his words send a shiver down your spine, walls clenching around his length at the thought. you’re so tired, too tired to do anything except cling onto the sheets beneath you, and you know he’s not even close to his limit.

“…or would you like choji to hear…?”

you shake your head quickly, drawing a small chuckle from togame. he picks up his phone again, giving you a warning squeeze around your hips before he’s unmuting his mic. “ahh…” he starts, “it was nothing. anyways, i’ll see you later, choji. i’m hanging up.”

he hangs up abruptly, letting out a deep groan he didn’t know he’s been holding in for the last minute when he feels your walls eagerly flutter around his length. togame’s quick to cage you underneath him, strong arms planted on either side of your head as his pace begins to falter, hips stuttering as he quickly approaches his high.

“so impatient…squeezing my dick like that. want me to fill you up nice and full, huh?”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. creampie, pet names, multiple rounds

"c'mon," umemiya grunts from above you, hips slowing their movement against yours, "you know you can't convince me with something like that."

he's gentle when he lowers himself onto his forearms, forehead pressing against yours as if searching for his answer. your bottom lip curls into a small frown, eyes shifting their gaze away from your boyfriend. he's always so good— knows exactly how to get you trembling underneath him in an instant, and you hate it. you hate the way your expression starts to contort and the way he’s pulling the most lewd sounds from you.

"it's embarrassing," you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, "the faces i make."

his eyes widen a bit at the confession, as if the idea of you being embarrassed wasn’t even a possibility in the first place. there's a experimental thrust of his hips, his cock nudging your cervix, and you can't help the small gasp that escapes.

“i don’t think that,” he coos, heavy cock stretching you so perfectly as he starts to move against you again, “don’t be shy.”

"f-fuck.." you gasp, because he feels too good. his chest is slick with sweat, the muscles of his arms flexing beside your head as he gazes down on you, intent on gauging each and every reaction his cock rips from you. “that’s good,” he whispers when your eyebrows furrow at the stimulation, “just like that. keep your eyes on me.”

he's getting rougher with each roll of his hips, thick length reaching impossibly deep inside your cunt. the back of your hand comes to cover your mouth when you feel the familiar knot tightening in your core, eyes clenching shut to fight it.

"nuh uh," ume's voice comes out a little breathless from the pace, his hands coming to pry yours off of your face, "no more hiding from me."

"u-ume," you protest with a huff, legs wrapping around his middle to keep him deep inside you, "just give it to me. please?"

he chuckles a bit, big hand coming to squeeze at your face, puckering your lips out. "oh, i will— i’ll give you what you need, pretty thing," he grunts when your walls flutter around his cock at the nickname, "so keep your eyes on me."

his fingers stay around your face, angling your head to face him when he sets a rough pace, balls slapping against your skin with each movement.

"wanna see you nice and clear when you cum for me, okay?"

[todayisafridaynight]

once more thinking about The Morning Of New Years 2001 and its just now dawning on me that arakawa really chugged two bottles of booze and smoked A Fuck Bitch of ciggies Presumably before noon. like dire situation i know but god damn guy got a lot done in two hours

[thelostconsultant]

Puppy love

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: During his karting days, you were one of his opponents, but outside the track he was just a stupid boy who fell in love with a pretty girl. Now, after all those years, you meet again in the paddock, and he doesn't want you to leave.

note: Yes, Jos is an asshole in this (too).

“Have you seen who jumped in to do the interviews?” Charles asked with a wicked smile when he stopped next to his rival after the race. Max hadn’t really paid attention to these details until now, but now that he was informed there was something he should probably know, he looked around to see where the reporter was. “I haven’t talked to her since your dad ruined her career. But she seems truly happy now.”

That’s when his eyes fell on you, the girl who had been haunting him in his dreams for long years, the one who was glowing while talking to the cameraman. He wanted to object, he wanted to say “my dad didn’t ruin her career, she just decided to quit,” but the way you had left certainly hinted at a possible connection between the two events. Because his father’s outburst took place a week before he found out you weren’t coming back to race, and you didn’t even try to contact him ever again. 

What made it real hard was the fact he knew you were left heartbroken, and it wasn’t racing that you missed. His mother called your parents to ask them about you, and they said you had been crying in your room for days, but when the option for a call from Max came up, they were quick to shut it down. They said it would be easier for you to move on if he didn’t show up in your life again, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for everything that happened. 

If he hadn’t fallen in love with you, if he hadn’t met you on a vacation, if his father hadn’t found out he loved someone, maybe you would still be racing. He remembered your bright smile that was present even after a tough race, and your good mood that was often highly contagious. The boys you raced against loved you dearly, mostly because you brought a different energy into their little boys’ club.

“Max, you’re next,” he was told all of a sudden. 

He wasn't ready to face you, but there was no escape. What he had to do now was force a smile on his face and act like he was talking to someone else, someone whose presence didn't affect him half as much as yours did. But the moment he stopped in front of you and noticed a strange glint in your eyes, he had to focus on breathing in and out while you asked your first question.

After the camera was turned off, he cautiously watched you to see if you were planning to approach him, or if you seemed open to the possibility of him doing that. When you looked at him with a smile and said goodbye to the cameraman, he walked over to you with his hand folded behind his back.

“It's nice to see you here,” he said with a small, cautious smile. You nodded, but Max could see behind the cheerful look on your face, he could tell you were tense. “If I'm bothering you, just say it.”

You took a deep breath, and soon your smile changed, and it was now showing a lot more sadness. “It's been a while, that's all. Talking to you in person brings back different memories,” you admitted.

“Good or bad ones?”

Following a shrug, you folded your arms over your chest and looked down at your shoes. “Compared to the ones that come back when I see you or Charles on TV? Bad,” you finally replied. 

Max gulped upon hearing this, feeling guilty despite knowing he had done nothing wrong, that whatever happened back in the day was the result of a series of decisions made by your parents. If it was up to him, he would have kept in touch with you, doing his best to see where this puppy love would lead the two of you. Maybe you would have broken up after he got into F1, maybe you would be married by now. It was a question he had no answer to.

The best he could do now was trying to make you understand this, making you see that he wanted to fix things now, even if you would be nothing more than friends. Sure, he had no idea how much you had changed over the years, but he knew there was only one way to find out. “I know it means very little after all these years, but I’m sorry,” he said to break the deafening silence.

You nodded, then to his surprise, took a step closer to him. “I know it wasn’t your fault. My parents told me what happened exactly eventually.”

He watched you closely, trying to figure out if you were interested in a proper conversation, maybe later in private. But before he could speak up, Charles walked over to the two of you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder with a big smile on his face. “It’s been so long,” he said happily, earning a shy smile and a barely visible shake of your head from you.

Max bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed by the sudden appearance of the Ferrari driver, but the main problem was a vivid memory from his childhood. While him and Charles had gone for blood on the track and didn’t have the best relationship off it either, you and the Monegasque were on very good terms, with you even visiting him and his family in his home. It didn’t bother him until his brain finally caught up with his feelings and he realized he had a crush on you, because then he felt intense jealousy every time his rival laid a finger on you, even if it was nothing more than a friendly pat on the shoulder.

You then suddenly moved to give him a hug, and seeing the way Charles wrapped his arms around you made his blood boil, even if he knew deep down that he had no right to be jealous. But it was painfully obvious that the two of you were talking to each other, keeping your voices down as much as you could in the noise around you, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was all about.

Then he finally let go of you and said goodbye, although the two of you agreed to have dinner in Italy next week to catch up. Max took a deep breath and thought about what to say, but before he could come up with anything, an official came over to drag him to the cooldown room, so all he could do was apologize and say goodbye, wishing he could see you again next week. According to Charles you were supposed to be there in Monza, which meant he would have the chance to talk to you.

To properly talk to you and possibly find out more about your life after you quit racing.

He knew in the cooldown room they were supposed to talk about the race, but all he could think about was asking Charles what you talked about, what was so secretive that no one else could hear it? So, in the end he didn’t say much, he just watched the recap of the race and discussed what he saw if it was standing out. Even while standing on the podium, his eyes scanned the crowd under them, trying to find you as if he was playing Where’s Wally?

On the way home, he spent his time browsing your social media accounts, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had never checked them. On X, you were posting about F1 news, commenting on them as a journalist, while on Instagram you focused on sharing more personal posts, like photos of your holiday, your hobbies, or yourself in the paddock. There had been so many of those, how come he hadn’t met you before?

Having a glimpse into your life felt so nice that he hadn’t realized he had scrolled back a few years. Well, not until it turned out he accidentally liked a few of your old photos. If you hadn’t seen the notifications, he wouldn’t have noticed that. But you saw them and weren’t shy to send him a DM about it.

The next few days passed with him regularly checking his DMs to see if you wrote to him again, if you changed your mind and decided to have dinner with him, but there was nothing, so he was forced to wait for the perfect opportunity to talk to you in the paddock in Italy. How he would find you in the flurry of people was a mystery, although he had a fleeting idea that maybe their PR team could help him get a hold of you. Not like that could work, a request like this would certainly give them a stroke, assuming he was planning to give a random interview.

His heart skipped a beat when he noticed you at the press conference, talking to some of the drivers behind the cameras. Your eyes were shining brightly, your smile lit up the room around you, and Max felt like he had been taken back to his childhood when all the boys at their karting races swarmed around you to get a scrap of your attention. But those were hormone-driven teenagers, while these guys were grown men, many of them in serious relationships, so he knew it wasn’t entirely the same situation.

This time Max made sure he could stick around after the interviews, hoping to get a hold of you once you were done. He approached you after everyone left and you decided to chat with someone from the crew. He cleared his throat nervously, subconsciously expecting you to yell at him, to tell him to leave you alone. But your poker face was perfect, because you turned to him with a kind smile and acted like you were ready to have a pleasant chat with him. The crew member left you alone, so only the two of you were left there. 

“You either don’t understand the word no, or you just learned to completely ignore it because you always get what you want,” you said with a sigh, the smile long gone by now. 

He let the last part of the comment go past his ear, instead he just took a deep breath and began to massage the back of his neck. “Can’t we have a pleasant conversation? Just put everything aside, forget about our shared past, and let’s treat this as a chance for a fresh start.”

You watched him with a thoughtful hum for a while, then nodded. “All right. What would you like to talk about?” you asked with a curious look in your eyes. 

“Us.”

“There’s no such thing as us.”

“Too bad, because that’s exactly what I want,” he was quick to inform you, mentally kicking himself for being this straightforward, even if it was true. Because he wanted to see if you would be interested in the 2.0 version of your relationship, the chance to see how your young love would work out in your adult lives. “Are you seeing anyone?”

For a moment you hesitated, but then you shook your head. “No. I don’t really have the time for that,” you replied honestly. Before Max could speak up again, though, you began to talk once more. “But I’m a reporter here, dating a driver would be… unethical. I can’t play favorites,” you explained. 

Max took a quick look around, then gently placed a hand on your cheek. “We can figure that out later. Let’s focus on step one, which is going on a first date. Tonight? We can turn to room service to help us out if you don’t want to meet somewhere public,” he told you. 

“So you want me all to yourself in your hotel room?” you asked with a teasing smile. 

He was sure as hell he blushed, because the idea of what you were suggesting hadn’t occurred to him. Having you alone in his hotel room wasn’t something he consciously planned out, he only wanted to meet you somewhere away from the curious eyes. “It’s not like that,” he told you defensively. 

“I know, don’t worry. Send me the when and where,” you said as you patted his shoulder. “See you later, Max.”

Nodding, he watched as you walked away from him. He didn’t say a word–no, he couldn’t say a word. His brain was too busy replaying the way his name rolled off your tongue, that sweet, soft tone of your voice as you said goodbye. With his mind still lost in a pink haze, he returned to their motorhome to gather his things and call it a day. He couldn’t wait to meet you, that was all he could focus on. 

A few hours later he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his foot nervously tapping on the floor while he waited. You could be here any minute, and waiting was the worst part. Well, maybe the conversation wouldn’t be that much better, but he could still hope for the best. So when half an hour later there was a knock on his door, his lips curled into a wide smile and he rushed over there to let you in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was held up in the media center,” you apologized the moment the door closed behind you. 

Max had to take a deep breath to calm himself. You being close to him again brought back feelings he thought he had long forgotten, and he wanted to give you a kiss, a soft kiss to test the waters with you. But he had to behave, he had no idea where the two of you were standing right now. “It’s okay, don’t worry. So, dinner?” he asked after a short break, giving you a smile. 

Food seemed to get you in the mood to chat, because as the two of you enjoyed the various dishes he ordered, you started to tell him about your life after everything that had happened back then. You finished high school like a normal kid, went to college to study journalism, and you managed to get jobs at various places that were related to motorsports, especially F1. That was your dream, to once work with this world, but you were quick to clarify knowing he made it here didn’t give you the idea. 

He tried to hide the cocky smirk that wanted to show up on his face, because he was sure what you said weren’t true. A voice in the back of his mind told him you wanted to see him again, that you wanted to get back what had been taken from the two of you all those years ago. After all, why wouldn’t he think that? It didn’t take much convincing to get you to meet him tonight. And if he was delusional? At least it was a nice thought. 

It was then his turn to talk, so he told you stories that you had probably never heard, about himself, about the grid, about everything, really. If you asked questions about his family, you focused on his sister and mother, but you were mostly interested in his cats and hobbies. As you told him, you couldn’t understand how he ended up being such a cat dad, but it certainly suited him. 

“Charles said he doesn’t get murderous thoughts about you several times a day lately,” you suddenly noted with a short laugh. 

Clearing his throat, Max tilted his head to the side. “You talked to him?” he asked casually. 

You nodded and took another bite of your pasta. “Yeah, we had dinner yesterday. I remember how the two of you were back then, I was wondering what the situation was now,” you said with a shrug. 

A wide grin crept on his face upon hearing this. “So you asked him about me.”

“It was just one question, don’t get too cocky,” you pointed out with a roll of your eyes. “But I’m glad you kinda get along now. It’s nice to see that.”

Max flashed a smile at you, then returned his attention to his dinner. For a while you both ate in silence, but then you got rid of the plates and he found himself wondering what to do next. So he just looked down at his hand and moved it closer to yours, letting his little finger brush against yours as if you were back in your teenage years. You let out a laugh when you noticed, and you looked at him with a kind smile. You weren’t as cold as you had been earlier today, now you seemed to have warmed up to him, ready to give him a chance to show you what he wanted. 

So, he took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss you, cautiously moving his lips against yours to make sure he didn’t scare you away. It took you a few seconds, but you eventually eased into the kiss, one of your hands even moving up to his face to keep him close. He couldn’t hold back a quiet chuckle that drew a questioning hum out of you. Max shook his head, then he dived in to kiss you again, but at the same time he let his hand wander under your shirt, even though he could have expected what happened next. 

Because you pulled away and pushed his hand away from your body. “Stop, don’t… I shouldn’t even be here, I should just go, and–”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do this, don’t push me away. I’m sorry. If you want to slow down, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do, okay?” he asked you, his voice desperate. For a minute or two you remained completely silent, you were just watching him with doe eyes, as if you were trying to process what just happened. “Please, just stay,” he said quietly.

You hesitantly took his hand and gulped loudly as you gathered your thoughts. “Listen, it’s complicated. I already told you, I shouldn’t date drivers, but,” you began, but fell silent without finishing the sentence. 

Max cupped your face and rested his forehead against yours. “One step at a time, all right? We’ll figure out if this could even work between us, then we’ll decide how to move on,” he said with a soft smile. When you nodded, he kissed your nose. “Good. Do you want to stay with me and cuddle a little, or would you rather go?”

“We just cuddle, right?” you asked with a thin voice. When he nodded, you let out a soft sigh. “Okay, just for a little while, then I’ll leave.”

But you didn’t leave. The next morning he woke up to you sleeping soundly with your head on his chest, snoring softly while you were lost in your dream world. Max couldn’t stop grinning, he was way too excited and happy to keep a straight face. It felt so nice, so natural, that he wondered how long you would be against it. You clearly wanted this as much as he did, but if you needed time, he was willing to give it to you.

As you lay there, he remembered that vacation all those years ago, when your parents not-so-accidentally bumped into his mom. His first date in a local cinema, watching a movie that was dubbed and neither of you could fully understand it. His first kiss in that movie theater with a girl that was special enough to catch his attention. The way you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder one night when your parents talked a little too long in a restaurant on the beach. 

And he was hell-bent on going back to that town to experience everything again as adults. All he needed was you softening enough to let him take care of you in front of the whole world.

[roanofarcc]

GETTING EVEN

pairing. tyler owens x harding!reader

summary. after tyler owens saved your ass, you return the favor. (part 2 to this fic) 

warnings. descriptions of injuries and tornados. reader is the daughter of jo & bill harding (from the og movie!). hurt/comfort (tending to each other wounds? hot). tyler’s the number one loverboy and I stand by that.

a/n. fun fact, my sister's mother-in-law also survived a tornado by hugging a light pole!

word count. 3.7k || masterlist

You stabbed a piece of pancake on your plate, determined to ignore your mom as she spoke from the stove. “Would it be the worst thing in the world?” 

“Yes,” you and your dad answered at the same time, meeting each other's eyes with a small smile. 

Your mom, Jo, sighed deeply and spun around to face the two of you, one hand on her hip. “He’s nice! He’s handsome and-” 

You groaned, feeling a teenager again, mortified that your parents are bringing up any aspect of your love life. Ever since Tyler Owens had helped you to the hospital after a tornado took you and your friend by surprise during a chase, your mom wouldn’t let you go five minutes without bringing him up. 

You were back in town, staying at their farm as another slew of storms were forecast for the surrounding area. Your team was due in later that night, all crashing with your parents, which was their idea. They wouldn’t admit it outright, but that was one thing they missed the most about their storm-chasing days, the friendships formed within their team. Your mom brought out her aunt’s recipes and cooked a big dinner, and your dad was harassed into telling stories of their storm-chasing adventures- which he secretly loved. 

Since the storms were predicted to be pretty wicked, you knew Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers would be around. And while you would rather die than tell your mom, you were excited to see him again. The competition between the two of you for an arbitrary ‘best storm chaser’ title was left behind after you woke up in the hospital to see him still there with you. Instead, your relationship inched more toward friends; though, your mom seemed convinced it was something more. 

“Look, if our daughter isn’t interested in running away with some tornado-wrangling cowboy, I don’t think we should encourage her to,” your dad, Bill, said. 

“I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway,” you added. You were too engrossed in your research to think about a relationship, serious or not. You were content with your team. And your mom’s little fantasy would require Tyler to be interested in you, which you found unlikely.

Yet, your mom persisted. “We did it,” she said, pointing between herself and Bill. “We balanced both work and a relationship. It’s not impossible.” 

You snorted. “Yeah, and you two almost got divorced.” 

Your dad laughed into his coffee mug, hiding it as your mom huffed. 

The thrill of storm chasing, running down backroads as a twister roared beautifully across the ground, wasn’t the only reason you did it. That was only one part of the job. Then there was the research. But the hardest part was trying to help people. Tornados were wondrous but dangerous. They ruined lives, tearing through towns. And while warning systems and radars had advanced significantly since your parents' days, nothing was perfect. That’s why you were the first people to rush into a crowded town directly in the path of a storm and do what you could to ensure people’s safety. 

When a member of your team noticed one of the storm cells you were watching was heading towards a little downtown area not too far from your parents’ farm, you all decided that was where you needed to be, instead of chasing after the storm further west. 

You were close, beating the storm to town, and when you arrived you realized the Wranglers had the same idea. The second you stepped out of your truck, the harsh winds knocked into you. The sirens just started, warning the people of the quickly approaching storm. People were running down the sidewalks, hurrying into buildings to shelter. 

You jumped into action, hurrying some slightly dazed people to safety, along with your team. The storm inched closer, and you knew you only had a few more moments before you needed to take cover yourself to ensure you didn’t get whisked away. You’d lived through enough tornados to know what to do with little fear, but ever since your close call with your team member Frankie, earning you a couple stitches on the back of your head and a newfound appreciation for Tyler, your nerves were a little heighten; you become a little more cautious. 

You turned on your heel to hurry towards one of the buildings, but you caught sight of the tornado wrangler on the other side of a parking lot, searching for something. 

Pressing your lips in a hard line, ignoring the drum inside your chest that started to beat a little faster with the closeness of the storm, you took off after him. 

“Tyler!” you yelled above the howling wind that threatened to knock you off your feet. Rain beat down against your skin, soaking you to the bone. You called his name once more as you neared, finally earning his attention. 

“Harding? What the hell are you doing?” 

“What am I doing? What are you doing? Taking a mid-day stroll?” 

He shook his head, forced his wet hair out of his eyes. “Some kid’s dog got spooked, ran this way, but I can’t find her.” 

You glanced up at the sky, the dark clouds giving the allusion of nighttime. There was a little tremble in your hand, but you steeled your nerves. “Dogs are smart. She’ll find her way, but we’re goners if we don’t get a move on.” He frowned, clearly torn between helping a lost dog and saving himself. “My team and I will help you look after; I promise.” 

With a sigh lost to the wind, he nodded and pointed toward the building others had filed into. “There’s a basement in the library.” 

Together, you two took off in the direction of the library, but the storm rolled in much quicker than you anticipated. It came in with a vengeance, peeling objects off the ground, big and small, with ease and tossing them all around. You ducked, nearly missing a chair that once belonged to one of the downtown restaurants' patios. Your heart started to race uncomfortably, inching toward fearfully. 

Tyler grasped your hand, tugging you to the side as more debris whizzed past you. The rain made your grasp slippery, but you squeezed his hand tightly. There was too much distance to cover, and the tornado was determined to put every possible obstacle in your path. 

It became harder to run but you felt so sure you and Tyler would make it; that was, until the tornado came around the block, tearing into a building and sending the debris in your direction. You didn’t even know what hit you until you felt Tyler’s hand slip from yours and your chin collided with the pavement. A cry of pain fell from your lips, but you rolled over quickly, in search of Tyler. He wasn’t far, just out of arms reach, on the ground. 

You half crawled over to him, tugging on his shoulder until you noticed the look of pain twisted on his face. Your gaze trailed down to his leg and found his foot stuck under a heavy beam plucked from the building the tornado tore through. 

“Shit,” you whispered, grasping the beam with your slippery hands and desperately trying to lift it off. It wouldn’t budge, crushing Tyler’s ankle. 

“You gotta go!” he yelled, trying to wave you off with his hand frantically. 

You stared at him in disbelief. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and the rain clouded your vision. There wasn’t a chance you were going to leave him. Your chest felt impossibly tight, pulling more and more with an indescribable fear you’d never experienced before. Using some kind of strength you didn’t know you had until that moment, you managed to lift the beam just enough for Tyler to pull his bloodied ankle out from under it. 

“Come on,” you cried, trying to help him to his feet. He grunted in pain, pale and breath labored. 

“We’re not gonna make it,” he wheezed out, talking about the library the tornado was already upon. You made a sharp turn, bee-lining toward the building you landed directly in front of. 

There wasn’t even time to get inside. Instead, you half helped half dragged Tyler to where there was a large light post cemented to the ground. It wasn’t much, but there were no other options. Tyler sat on the ground, pulling you down quickly beside him before he wrapped his arms around the pole. You hooked one arm too but kept your other pressed against Tyler’s head. You could take another hit, but you weren’t sure he could. 

You closed your eyes, sending a silent prayer that everyone would be okay. The storm roared, stinging your ears and tugging on you harshly. But, somehow, the both of you remained hugging the light post until the tornado dissipated after an excruciating amount of time. That was the thing about tornados, when you were chasing them, they never seemed to last long enough, but when you were in them, they never seemed to end. 

Shaking from a mix of adrenaline, fear, and cold you unwound your arm from the pole before you brushed your hands along Tyler’s shoulders, drawing his attention, and making sure he was still there. 

You two sat nearly nose to nose, droplets of rain decorating his face, falling his lashes as he tried to blink them away. “Are you okay?” you muttered, voice shaky. 

He let out a breath and tried to shift in his position, but his face twisted up in pain once more before he cursed under his breath. You glanced at his ankle, his jeans were stained with a smear of crimson, but the rest was hidden under the fabric. 

“I think it’s just a sprain,” he said, trying to shrug it off but you saw through him. You struggled to your feet and moved to help him, but he tried to stand on own. He leaned heavily on the light pole, trying to hide a wince. 

You heard his and your name being called in the distance. You hooked an arm around his torso, gazing at him for a moment. “Come on,” you said, gently guiding him back towards the road. As soon as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you spotted your team and a couple members of Tylers. 

“Holy shit!” Frankie gasped, running towards you. “What happened to you two? We thought you were right behind us?” 

Tyler tried not to lean on you, but you felt his grip tighten on your shoulders with each step. “I think we need to take him to the hospital,” you said, worry seeping into your voice. 

Kate and Javi snapped their gaze at Tyler, who shook his head. “No, really, I’m fine. I think it’s just a little sprain,” he repeated. 

Kate looked at you, half ignoring Tyler. “What happened?” 

“His ankle was crushed under some debris.” 

“I’m right here,” Tyler said. “And I said I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital. But we’ve gotta find that dog-” 

“You mean this lil’ guy?” Boone asked. He and Lily stood with who you assumed was the kid who lost the dog, but who was now cuddling it in his arms with a wide smile on his lips despite the destruction all around them. “He came runnin’ out just a minute ago. Smart dog.” 

You smiled softly, looking at Tyler who sighed in relief. “I told you.” 

“I think the nearest hospital is…” Javi trailed off, looking at his phone with furrowed brows. “Twenty minutes south, just off the interstate.” 

“I’m not goin’ to a hospital. I’m telling you guys, I’m fine-” 

You huffed loudly. “Are you always this stubborn?” 

At the same time, Kate, Javi, Boone, and Lily all replied, “Yes.” 

You realized you probably weren’t going to convince Tyler to get his ankle checked out at the hospital. “Fine,” you sighed. “But you’re not gonna patch yourself up in some grimy motel, got it? My parents don’t live too far from here. You all can crash there.” 

“Are you sure?” Kate asked. 

“Positive. My parents were thrilled to have my team staying. They won’t mind a couple more people.” 

“Wait,” Javi said. “Your parents. Like, your parents as in Jo and Bill Harding?” 

You chuckled. “Yes.” 

He and Kate exchanged a look that bordered on giddy. 

Tyler shifted at your side, pulling out his truck keys and you thought he was out of his mind if he thought he was going to try to drive with his clearly busted ankle. You reached over and snatched the keys quickly. “You’re riding with me, cowboy,” you said before tossing the keys at Kate. She caught with between her two hands, eyes slightly wide before a smile broke out across her lips. 

“I’m driving!” Kate said before she quickly turned on her heel before anyone could protest, Javi following close behind her. 

“You be careful with my truck Sapulpa!” Tyler shouted. 

You all arrived at your parents' place and helped a limping Tyler out of your truck. He tried once more to hide just how much pain he was in, but it didn’t work. As you walked up the driveway, he smirked, a little lopsidedly. “Already taking me home to meet the parents, huh?” You wanted to smack him but decided his sprained ankle was enough punishment already. 

Instead, you rolled your eyes. “Don’t you be talking like that in front of my mom. She’ll start planning the wedding.” You were only half joking. You knew the second she opened the front door and saw you standing side by side with Tyler’s arm slung around you, even though it was strictly to keep himself upright and pressure off his ankle, her imagination would run wild. 

He was quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat and said, “At least let me buy you dinner first.” 

You didn’t get a chance to respond before the front door was swung open and out stepped your mom. Her eyes flickered between the two storm-chasing teams all trailing behind you before they landed on you and Tyler. You saw the little twinkle in her eye, but it vanished when she noticed the state everyone was in, soaked clothes, a little in pain, and in a slight daze. 

She hurried down the step, grasping your face and gazing at the nasty cut on your chin from where you collided with the road. “Everyone okay?” she asked, eyes drifting over to Tyler. 

“Not exactly,” you replied. “Tyler’s got a busted ankle. I think everyone else is pretty okay. But cold and hungry.” 

Your mom clapped her hands together. “Well then, let’s get you all fed and cleaned up then. Come on,” she said, ushering everyone inside and exchanging greetings. 

You helped Tyler into the bathroom before you dug around for the first aid kit underneath the sink. 

“You know-” Tyler started but you glared at him. 

“If you tell me you’re fine one more time Owens…” He held up his hands in defense, pressing his lips together. Once you found the kit, you sat on the floor and carefully rolled up the leg of his jeans. Whatever damage his ankle took was hidden under his boot. “This is probably gonna hurt,” you said. 

You tried to be as careful as you could, tugging off his boot, and he tried to act like it didn’t hurt like a bitch, but the way his eyes screwed shut and hands clenched into fists in his lap told you otherwise. As soon as it was off, he let out a shaky breath and you assessed the damage. His ankle was swollen, bloodied, and overall in pretty bad shape but considering he could put a little bit of pressure on it told you it wasn’t broken. He was right about the sprain, but it was a fairly bad one. 

Working quickly but carefully, you cleaned up the dirt and blood before wrapping his ankle. “Feel any better?” you asked. He nodded as you stood to your feet. “Good. Are you hungry? I’m sure my mom’s made enough food to feed an army-” 

“Wait,” he said, grasping your hand, turning you back around to face him before you could reach the door. “You fixed me up, now it’s your turn.” 

You furrowed your brows. “What?” His eyes dropped down to your chin, where you’d smacked it against the road when you fell. “Oh. No, it’s just a little scratch-” he cut you off. 

“Are you always this stubborn?” he teased, using your own words against you. With a sigh, you slumped your shoulders in defeat. 

“All right, but at least sit down. Your ankle’s not gonna heal otherwise.” He listened, retaking his place on the toilet lid as you sat on the edge of the tub right beside it. He grabbed an alcohol swap from the kit and grasped your face with one hand. His fingers were cold from the rain but gentle as they tilted your head upwards just slightly so he could clean the cut on your chin. 

You couldn’t help but study him. The brightness of his eyes and how they narrowed when he concentrated, and how he pulled his bottom lip just barely between his teeth. Something twisted in your stomach, and you were suddenly very aware of just how close he was. You had been nearly nose to nose with him earlier, in the aftermath of the storm, but the calmness of your current setting made the closeness feel different. The way his hand softly held onto your face made your breath hitch, and it was impossible for him not to notice. His eyes flickered up from your chin, awkwardly covered with a band aid, and met yours. 

“Thanks for saving my ass out there,” he said, voice just above a whisper, like he too didn’t want to break the calmness that was steady in the room. 

You tried to ignore the patter of your heart that quickened as with his little smile. “I owed you for saving mine.” 

“Guess we’re even know, huh?” 

You nodded, words lost on your tongue. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you dropped your gaze onto his lips for just a moment before you met his eyes, searching for something. But your wishful thinking died with a startling knock on the door that caused you both to flinch back and away from each other. 

“Everything all right in there?” your dad’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. 

You cleared your throat, quickly standing to your feet. “Y-Yeah. We’ll be out in a second!” A shaky laugh left your lips as your turned to Tyler, who stared back at you with cheeks slightly pink. “We should…” 

“Yeah, y-yeah.” 

After everyone showered and cleaned themselves up, your mom and dad handed out plates and everyone dug in. With full stomachs and dry clothes, the collection of storm chasers all crashed around the house. You lay in your childhood bed, squished alongside Frankie while two other members of your team were asleep on an air mattress on the floor. You tried to sleep, but all you could think about was Tyler, who was just downstairs in the living room. The rest of the evening consisted of you two tip toeing around each other, bordering on avoiding each other in the company of everyone else. 

With a quiet groan, you slipped out of bed and headed toward the kitchen, careful to be quiet. Your mom’s words followed you, gushing about Tyler. Would it be the worst thing in the world? You had said yes, but you didn’t really mean it, how could you? This was Tyler. Sure, he was a little reckless and you’d seen him get a little rowdy at a country bar, but he was also the kind of person that looked for lost dogs in the middle of a tornado and who stayed by your bedside at the hospital until you woke up. He was obnoxiously great. You didn’t know how to deal with it. 

In the bathroom, just hours ago, you wanted to kiss him. And a part of you thought he wanted to kiss you too, but the moment was broken too fast for you to know for certain. 

You poured yourself a glass of water before leaning against the counter, eyes focused out the window at the sliver of moon that poked out from behind the clouds. Somewhere behind you, the floorboards creaked, causing you to spin around with a start. 

Tyler paused, wincing at the noise he made before he whispered, “Sorry.” 

You didn’t do it on purpose, but it was like at the sight of him your lips automatically tugged upwards in a smile. You felt a little ridiculous about it but tried to play it off by clearing your throat. 

“I told you that couch was uncomfortable,” you said, voice low to not wake the snoring Wranglers in the next room. 

“It’s not,” he replied. 

“You should be elevating your ankle.” 

“I know, I know. Doctor’s orders, right?” He smiled too. “I was just grabbing some water.” 

You said nothing as you reached back into the cabinet and pulled out another glass before filling it at the sink. You handed it to him, your fingers brushing for just a second before he took the glass with a quiet ‘thanks’ and you pulled away. 

“I should…” You pointed behind you, ready to retreat back to your bedroom and let your Tyler-occupied mind slip away. But he caught your elbow and set down his glass of water. He didn’t say anything as his hand slid up your arm to your shoulder, then to your cheek in a similar way he held you earlier. You were back to being nearly nose-to-nose for the third time that day. Only this time, it was Tyler whose gaze flickered to your lips before he closed the short distance. 

Softly and quietly, you pressed your lips against his, pressing your hands against his chest. His hands were warm on the sides of your face as his lips moved against yours. You parted after a moment, breathing a little heavier, and your chest beat with something new. 

You leaned in once more, kissing him a little harder but pulling back quicker. “Good night, Tyler,” you breathed out. 

He beamed, cheeks rosy. “Good night, Harding.”

[ghostaholics]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone) ➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.) ➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries ➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this. ➸ WC: 2k

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.

"Oh, yeah? What about?"

"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”

“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.

“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”

You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”

“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”

“I would.” More than he knows.

It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.

Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.

You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.

The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.

You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.

He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.

You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.

The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.

And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.

He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.

Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing – poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”

His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”

You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.

(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)

And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.

Of course, you take your job very seriously.

You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”

“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.

“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”

“The verdict, then?”

“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”

Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.

You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.

“You gonna treat me or what?”

Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.

The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.

Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.

“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”

But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”

You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.

You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?

But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.

“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.

He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.

After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.

Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.

And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.

“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.

Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.

[httpsleclerc]

the second date

pairings: Charles Leclerc x Single!Mom!Verstappen!Reader, Charles Leclerc x Romy Verstappen (BABY!OC)

summary: A peak into yours and Romy's second meeting with Charles

warnings: none for this part!

word count: 1.7k

a/n: I really love this little part I think its so cute! Let me know what you think by leaving a comment here or in my inbox!

series masterlist // main masterlist

The sun beamed down on Monte Carlo, an accurate symbol of how you had been feeling in the days since your first meeting with Charles. Talking to and with him, you felt like you could almost forget everything that had happened with Lukas - Almost. You were well aware that you would always have constant reminder of your ex, but that was in no way Romy's fault, you had spoken to Max and Kelly, proposing the idea to them that until or if she asked, you wouldn't tell your daughter about her father, and even then, depending on her age, you would only tell her the appropriate parts - That at some point he had been a good man, and that there came a point where you did what was best for her.

Max had laughed, saying that you were being too polite by calling Lukas a good man - Claiming that that would have been like calling Jos father of the year. Kelly had elbowed him after that, telling you that that sounded like a good plan.

You looked down, smiling at Romy as she curiously eyed all of the trees and greenery above her, giving you a gummy smile as she saw your face in her vision. You adjusted the umbrella to cover her face, protecting her sensitive skin from the harsh rays of the sun - You and Kelly had laughed as you asked Max if he could help you try and apply a layer of sunscreen onto Romy, which you two had known would be no easy feat. However, your older brother, seemingly the baby soother, had managed to apply not one, but two layers of heavy duty sunscreen onto your daughter.

"I see you, Romy," You spoke to her, fondly smiling as she babbled back to you. "Oh you're very talkative, I think you know who we're going to see." You said, scanning for the brunette Monegasque, waving over to him as you saw him sitting on a bench.

It had been Charles' idea to meet you in Romy in a more secluded park in a beautiful area of Monte Carlo, Max had told him that you would most likely need worked up to going to busier areas, especially with Romy. You had always been anxious, your older brother knew that better than anyone did, but he couldn't imagine how you would be feeling having been isolated for so long and going back into such busy environments, never mind adding the single most precious thing in your life into the mix. So, Charles had thought of the small, yet beautiful park that his parents had brought himself and his brothers to as children.

He was trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach he got when he saw you make your way over to him, smiling as he heard Romy babbling from within her stroller. He knew that it would be wrong to propose a relationship to you right now, considering the relationship you had just come out of - He understood if you just wanted to be friends for a bit, he loved both you and Romy too much to miss out on anything.

"Hello you two," He greeted you, a charming smile on his face. You had to admit, Charles was incredibly handsome, but you had always known him to be.

"Hi Charles, nice to see you again," You said cheerily, putting the brake on Romy's stroller so you could lift her out and on to your lap, settling down on the bench beside Charles. "You picked a beautiful day." You told him, smiling as you placed your daughter on your lap, letting her play with the rings on your fingers. 

"I know, you know my parents used to bring me and my brothers here? I thought that maybe it could be something we could do with Romy," He said, only to stumble over his words as you looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "Nono, I-I didn't mean like a date or anything like that...not that I don't want something like that with you! I think you're really pretty and Romy is the most perfect little girl and-...I am making a fool of myself, aren't I?" He held his head in hands, his cheeks heating up as he realised how much he had been rambling.

You giggled, placing your free hand on Charles' back as a means to try and comfort him. He looked up at you, a blush creeping over his cheeks as he made eye contact with you.

"I'd love to do this with you as a tradition, Charles, I um...I just don't think that I'm quite ready for anything more than friends right now," You told him - Charles was at least happy that you could be honest with him, instead of dating him out of pity for his inability to shut up. "I really like being friends with you, Cha, Romy loves you too. You really make me feel listened to, in a way that Max and Kelly don't really get - they look after Romy and I but you..you're different, but in a good way." You assured him, smiling as you ran your hand up and down his back.

As if sensing his sadness, Romy started wriggling in your arms, babbling as she reached for Charles, who immediately perked up as the small girl reached out for him.

"Can I?" You nodded, you loved how he asked before taking your daughter out of your arms. You softly smiled, seeing how content both him and your daughter were with each other - You had seen Charles in interviews, talking about he had wanted 3 children, you could see him outnumbered by girls, begging their daddy to do their hair and play princesses and tea parties. It was funny, you had never imagined yourself having kids, especially not one at 22, but now that you had Romy, you couldn't imagine your life without it, it felt like her being here with you, she completed you - She was your baby and you were her mother, nothing could ever, and would ever change that. "She's so cute, and I see that she let you put her socks on her this time." He recounted, making you laugh as you remembered the day that you had first met up with Charles, more specifically you remembered the 15 minute battle you had with Romy about putting her socks on.

"Max actually got her sorted for today, you would be surprised at how good he is with babies," Charles nodded - He, more than anyone, was probably most familiar with how you and Max were raised, so hearing you talk about how great that your older brother was with your daughter, was almost a shock; Two people who he had expected to want nothing to do with children, had become in closest contact with them, with you being a mother and Max having such a close bond with Penelope. "I'm going to go get something to drink, do you want anything?" You offered him with a smile, watching as Romy, who normally screamed and cried any time you left her, remained perfectly happy in Charles' arms.

"Just a water please, cherie," He responded, gently bouncing Romy on his knee as he watched you nod and walk away, over to the small concessions stand. "Such a pretty girl, aren't you Romy? Just like your mama." Charles spoke to the baby girl on his lap, grinning as she giggled and clapped her small hands together, babbling to him. He sighed as he sat back against the bench, Romy resting against him as she settled down - Charles was thankful he hadn't made a complete fool of himself, although disappointment did weigh on the fact that you weren't looking for a relationship at the moment; However, he understood, and would continue with your friendship.

You made your way back over to the bench where Charles and your daughter sat, Romy having settled against him, almost asleep on his chest. 

"Oh, she um...I think she's asleep, Charles," You said quietly, placing a hand on your daughter's small back. He looked down, noticing that Romy, had in fact, fallen asleep on him. He looked up at you, clearly never having had a baby fall asleep, judging by the almost bewildered look in his eyes. "It's okay, just relax, I'll put her in the stroller so she can sleep with the sun umbrella covering her." You told him, lifting your sleeping daughter off of his chest so he could move without fear of waking her. Making sure that she was in securely, you sat back down, handing Charles the water you had bought him.

"She's so calm, I don't think I've seen a baby sleep so much or fuss so little," You chuckled at Charles' thoughts on your daughter. "Uh oh, that tells me otherwise." He grinned, prompting you to tell him more.

"She's cute, but she uses it to her advantage. She's got her uncle Max wrapped around her little finger already, Kelly and I told him off the other day because she was being fussy because Max had a stroopwafell and she wanted some," You told him, smiling as you remembered the look on your brothers face as Kelly told him off, while you attempted to take the sweet treat out of your daughter's tight grasp. "Getting her onto solids has also been a nightmare, she's a fussy little monster sometimes."

"I bet you wouldn't change her for the world," Charles smiled fondly at you, watching as you studied your sleeping baby carefully. You shook your head, turning to look at the Monegasque once more.

"Absolutely not, I wish I could change her father, but the only plus from him was that he gave me her...my baby girl," You smiled widely, your heart beaming with nothing but adoration for the life that you created. He also smiled, watching you with the same adoration, even if you didn't share the sentiment right now, Charles was almost certain you shared the same feelings, and he would wait until you were ready.

<3

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