#id have to catch up on SO much but it's okay

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 90, Part 3

[Image ID: Lightningrunner yowls at Estherfern, "You took her from me! I barely got to know her! Why do you get to be a mother when she didn’t get to be mine?" Shrewflame and Whitepaw run toward the pair.]

ONE MOON PRIOR…

It seemed like a waste of a skilled cleric's time to accompany an apprentice to his training, but Estherfern supposed she would want someone close by if one of her kits were to injure themselves carelessly. She strolled beside Lightningrunner as Shrewflame and Whitepaw pranced ahead of them, making their way to Battle Beach. It seemed like far too gray and bright a day to spar, but the youth of RippleClan didn't care much for her opinion.

"Mr. Billowhaze said to be careful by the water," Whitepaw chirped, gazing up at his older brother like a Clan oogles a new leader. "Do you think Mom's stories about fish-cats are real?"

"Mom's an artisan, not a historian," Shrewflame laughed. "Her stories are all fake. Don't worry, the only creatures you should worry about in the ocean are poisonous fish."

"I don't think that makes me feel better," Whitepaw chuckled awkwardly. The two brothers left dainty pawprints in the sand.

"If you want to know more about the ocean," Lightningrunner said, "ask me anything."

"I will, Ms. Lightningrunner," Whitepaw promised, turning an ear back to her. Estherfern hummed softly at the young apprentice's strange phrasing. There was something humble about the titles, even though Estherfern had no idea what they meant.

"Battle Beach!" Shrewflame chirped as the patrol crossed into that special portion of the shoreline. To Estherfern, there was nothing particularly special about this portion of the beach as opposed to any other stretch of snow-dusted land. She wouldn't have known of their arrival had Shrewflame not pointed it out. Still, her Clanmates raved about fond memories sparring along the sand, so it was yet another thing she learned to keep her mouth shut about.

"Is sparring at all like that big fight Mr. Tallowheart and Ms. Cobaltchaser had?" Whitepaw asked, kneading the sand.

"That was just a fight, Whitepaw," Shrewflame laughed, running his tail over Whitepaw's head as he walked past. "When we spar with our Clanmates, we're practicing our skills and challenging ourselves. We aren't hurting one another, though. That's why you don't unseathe your claws. You aren't supposed to draw blood when you're training."

"I won't," Whitepaw promised. He ran to catch up with Shrewflame. He glanced back at Estherfern and Lightningrunner and called, "Ms. Lightningrunner, are you going to spar too?"

"I'll let you start with your brother!" Lightningrunner called. Estherfern found a partially dry spot closer to the trees. She sat her bandage down and tucked her paws under herself. Lightningrunner sat beside her, tail stirring the dusting of snow behind her. Shrewflame steadied himself, paws dug into the sand. Whitepaw copied him as best he could. His legs stretched out a bit too far to look comfortable.

"I'll start simple," Shrewflame said. "A lot of the basics of fighting involve the sort of moves cats instinctually use when they're in danger. Paw swipes, grabbing onto your enemy, things like that. Let's start with swipes. Swipe at my face, as best you—" Whitepaw's fluffy paw whipped out from his awkward stance. He smacked Shrewflame across the face. Shrewflame stumbled to the side, blinking wildly.

"Ah!" Whitepaw yelped. "Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?" Whitepaw hovered around Shrewflame, now scared to get too close. But Shrewflame just laughed. He shook out his pelt, letting his laughter ripple through his ginger fur.

"Now that was a swipe!" Shrewflame roared, rubbing his face on his leg. "StarClan, Whitepaw! Who knew you were so strong?" Whitepaw chuckled awkwardly, but his ears perked high and his tail unwound itself from his side.

Shrewflame went on about angling your paw and steadying yourself after a strike, but Estherfern's attention drifted. The forest had grown grayer by the day, and the snow meant approaching death and hibernation to the plants her fellow clerics so valued. She never imagined caring so much about medical stocks, but she never imagined any of this when she first set off west under the orders of her God.

"These two will be fine," Estherfern huffed to Lightningrunner, stretching as she stood. "I'm going to forage. Will you help?"

"Alright," Lightningrunner said, getting to her paws. Estherfern left her bandage behind and led Lightningrunner into the trees as Shrewflame and Whitepaw laughed and batted at each other.

RippleClan would soon turn to bark-based medicine as winter rolled in and vibrant herbs vanished, but it wasn't winter yet. It was the sort of weather where everything looked a bit like Estherfern; brown and tan and earthy. She could see how the world fought to ignore the approaching chill, even though the first frost had settled over the land. Green grass mixed with yellow, insisting on life. The earliest of winter blooms still dared not to show themselves. The land was waiting, preparing, hoping for a peaceful winter, just like all the Clans.

Estherfern brushed aside snow to get a better look at every plant. Not too far from Battle Beach, she uncovered chicory, its leaves almost identical to a dandelion. Artisans and caretakers could roast the root for their meals and strengthen everyone's stomaches. Estherfern carefully dug around the leaves and plucked the root from the frosty dirt.

"Is this something we should collect?" Lightningrunner called. Her paw danced around a large fallen branch, sprinkled with golden-brown mushrooms. Estherfern joined Lightningrunner and looped around the branch. She studied the mushrooms and their round caps, with a name quickly coming to mind.

"Deadly skullcaps," Estherfern warned, shaking her head. "I knew these mushrooms in my kithood. They are some of the most toxic mushrooms any cat has ever seen. They're as deadly as deathberries. Don't touch them."

Estherfern trotted back to her chicory root and picked it up. She glanced back at Lightningrunner, ready for the young historian to follow her to better, safer herbs. Yet Lightningrunner just stood there. She stared at the deadly skullcaps. Her dark blue eyes were slit and sharp. Her unnerving, unblinking glare drifted onto Estherfern.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Estherfern huffed, dropping the chicory root. Lightningrunner looked back to the deadly skullcaps.

"You should eat them," Lightningrunner said. Estherfern's claws instinctually slipped out. Her ears perked high, turning sideways, alert and ready.

"Say that again," Estherfern said. Lightningrunner's whiskers pushed back against her face. Her ears slowly turned backward, fighting not to go back. She looked at Estherfern once more. Her jaw quivered, searching for the path forward.

"You…" Lightningrunner gulped. She steadied herself, just as Shrewflame readied for Whitepaw's initial strike. "You should eat them. You, you should eat them, and you should die."

"By God, Lightningrunner, you're talking nonsense," Estherfern snapped. "What's gotten into you?"

"I," Lightningrunner stammered, "You… Ugh! What sort of justice is it when a killer goes free?" Lightningrunner curled her lips.

"Again, Lightningrunner," Estherfern growled, "you're talking nonsense. Justice? What justice?"

"You know what justice!" Lightningrunner cried. Her voice rose so fast and violent that Estherfern jumped. Estherfern never jumped. "You know what you did! You summoned the spirits. You got my mom killed!" Ah. That justice.

"I was wondering if you would ask me about that someday," Estherfern sighed, smoothing her pelt. "I don't have good answers for you, Lightningrunner. I meddled with forces I thought I could control, and RippleClan suffered for it. I've done what I can to atone."

"No you haven't," Lightningrunner whined. "You got away with it because Foampaw died, but what about Silverpaw? What about my mom? Do you think there's anything you can do to make up for that? I never saw her body, Estherfern! She was my mom! You took her from me! I barely got to know her! Why do you get to be a mother when she didn’t get to be mine?" Estherfern had no clever retort to that. She dipped her head, but her eyes caught a flash of red in the trees. Shrewflame and Whitepaw slowly approached the arguing pair, ears cocked in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Lightningrunner," Estherfern sighed, straightening, "but I'm not killing myself for you."

"Yes, yes you are," Lightningrunner growled, tail curling, voice cracking. "Eat the mushrooms, or… or I'll just kill you myself!" Shrewflame and Whitepaw ran. Lightningrunner's eyes bounced, blind to all but her own vengeance. "Eat them! Eat them, you foxheart!"

Lightningrunner ran at Estherfern. Whitepaw, small Whitepaw, too-strong-for-his-age Whitepaw, launched past his brother and landed on Lightningrunner's neck, a tail-length from Estherfern. Whitepaw's fangs dug into her scruff, but no, it wasn't her scruff, his jaw wasn't in the right spot, it was her neck, her spine, Whitepaw let go right now—

Light sparked in Lightningrunner's eyes as a violent spasm took over her body. Blood splashed in Whitepaw's mouth. Lightningrunner's strength ebbed away. Her claws, tense and ready to strike, relaxed. She grew limp as leather underneath Whitepaw. Lightningrunner didn't even have time to whine before her life left her.

Whitepaw let go. Shrewflame stumbled upon the scene, his body begging to retreat. Estherfern stood over Lightningrunner's body. She no longer looked like a killer. She looked like a kit.

Whitepaw whined, a wordless, painful cry. He fell off Lightningrunner's body. He ran to Shrewflame, burying his bloody face in his brother's red fur.

"How…" Shrewflame gulped. "What… I don't…"

"I was trying to pull her off!" Whitepaw wailed, voice muffled in Shrewflame's pelt. "I didn't want her to hurt Ms. Estherfern! I didn't want to hurt her!"

"White, White, I know," Shrewflame cooed. He slowly wrapped himself around his weeping brother, hiding all traces of blood-stained white fur from the world. Whitepaw shook so hard that Shrewflame struggled to stay upright. "I know, I know. It was an accident. I know, White. You didn't mean it."

But would the Clan see it that way? Another dead Clanmate, killed, murdered. It had nothing to do with Potterypool, but would anyone believe them? Estherfern barely believed her own senses. An apprentice, barely a quarter moon into training, somehow landing a killing bite on a well-trained historian? Not just any historian, the little sister to one of RippleClan's most unified and beloved families, the daughter of Weedfoot, the Celestial of RippleClan Deputies. The three cats who stood before Lightningrunner's body were outsiders, welcomed into the safety of the shipwreck. Would any of them be allowed to remain after this? Who would believe Lightningrunner, of all cats, would suddenly try to kill Estherfern? Who would see Whitepaw's actions as justified?

No. Whitepaw and Shrewflame were barely out of kithood. They wouldn't suffer for a mess Estherfern caused. This was justice.

"Both of you, listen to me," Estherfern snapped. Shrewflame and Whitepaw snapped out of their shock for just a moment, looking up. Whitepaw looked pink with the blood on his lips. "I'm going to fix this. Nothing will happen to you, Whitepaw. Shrewflame, here, now." Shrewflame slipped himself out from around Whitepaw and crept closer to Lightningrunner's body. Estherfern studied the deadly wound. Even though Whitepaw was close to full-grown, it was clear that no adult cat bit into Lightningrunner. "Shrewflame, I need you to bite into Lightningrunner. You have to cover up Whitepaw's teethmarks."

"But—" Shrewflame stammered, gagging on the thought.

"Shrewflame, we are doing this to protect your brother," Estherfern growled. "Bite her neck, now."

Shrewflame's lips curled, almost prancing in his indecision. But then he looked back at Whitepaw, with wide eyes and his awful, bloody face. Shrewflame hardened. He squeezed his eyes tight and snapped his fangs around the back of Lightningrunner's neck. Estherfern tuned out the squish of flesh and bone.

"Now, both of you, to the ocean," Estherfern ordered as Shrewflame let go and hurried back to Whitepaw. "You're going to wash the blood out of your fur. Don't get out until it's all gone. Then you're going to run to camp and tell the codekeepers that Lightningrunner is dead." Whitepaw pressed against Shrewflame. "This is what happened. While you were swimming, Lightningrunner went to investigate a sound in the forest. When she didn't come back, we went to find her. We found her body. We don't know who did this. We were on the beach. We heard nothing."

"I killed her," Whitepaw whined.

"No you didn't," Estherfern growled, trying to soften her voice. "Not anymore. No one will know. You're not in trouble. You're my hero, Whitepaw, you did nothing wrong. Now go." Whitepaw moved toward Estherfern, but Shrewflame nudged him back. He shook his head, wide eyes glancing at Lightningrunner. He shoved Whitepaw back toward the beach. The two young toms scrambled out of sight.

Estherfern paced around Lightningrunner's body. She brushed the snow with her tail, removing nearby pawprints. No one would be able to tell which way the attacker came from, even if they questioned the patrol's story. With her tail coated in frost and the scene firmly scuffled, Estherfern sat at Lightningrunner's side, like a cleric mourning her charge.

"You stupid child," Estherfern moaned, lowering her head into Lightningrunner's pelt.

No one would know.

(Estherfern: 123, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Whitepaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)

(Shrewflame: 13, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Lightningrunner: 19, female, historian, nervous, explorer, helpful insight)

[Image ID: Estherfern says to Lemmy, "I don't want to ruin her legacy over a moment of weakness. Do you want the Clan to look at Whitepaw like a killer?" Halibutdusk, Scaleripple, and Oilstripe approach from the distance.]

---

At the end of the story, Lemmy could only sit and think it through. Honeybuzz and Estherfern stared at her, silent, squirming. The quarantine den seemed even colder now.

"No one would know," Lemmy muttered, staring at Estherfern. "Yet you told Honeybuzz."

"I have…" Honeybuzz groaned, "let's say experience with issues like these. Do you understand why we can't let the Clan know now?"

"Call me a hypocrite for this," Lemmy huffed, "but if Lightningrunner tried to kill you, Estherfern, wouldn't you want the Clan to know?" Estherfern bristled.

"None of it would have happened if I had not communed with Spirits of Shadow," the old cleric sighed. "Lightningrunner had the right to be mad at me. I don't want to ruin her legacy over a moment of weakness. Do you want the Clan to look at Whitepaw like a killer?"

Pawsteps broke the snow outside. It had gotten brighter in the time Estherfern spent telling her story. Now morning light burned against the trees beyond. Scaleripple, Halibutdusk, and Oilstripe stood outside, stone still. Time for the trial. Lemmy sighed and stood, squaring herself in front of her Clanmates' painful gaze.

"We need a little more time, please," Honeybuzz stammered, getting up and close to Lemmy's escorts. "We want this to be easy on the Clan. We're not done talking with Lemmy."

"I want her out of this camp," Scaleripple growled. Oilstripe cleared her throat, diverting Scaleripple's boiling blue hate away from Lemmy for a moment.

"The spirits in here are agitated," Oilstripe whispered, ears tilting back, ruffling the thick maple leaves stuck to her fur. "We don't want a long trial. If they can make her tell the truth now, the whole Clan won't have to hurt for long."

"Everyone's waiting, Oilstripe," Halibutdusk huffed.

"I know," Oilstripe groaned, "but do you think they'd rather sit there all day or wait a bit longer and be done with all this before sunhigh?" Halibutdusk and Scaleripple both squirmed, but neither confronted their deputy. Oilstripe turned to Honeybuzz and said, "Lead her out into the clearing when you're finished here." Honeybuzz nodded as Oilstripe led Scaleripple and Halibutdusk back around the shipwreck.

"We don't have long, Lemmy," Estherfern sighed. "I know you don't see your actions as strictly right and wrong, so why see this differently? There's no crazed killer living in our Clan. Don't make them suffer more than they already are." Lemmy's neck itched under her collar. Her head ached. Was there any good decision here? Was this any different than Lemmy's own coverup? Did the truth deserve to come to light? Or would the truth hurt worse than the lie?

"If I say I killed both Potterypool and Lightningrunner," Lemmy said softly, "what then?"

"Unless something strange happens at the trial," Honeybuzz explained, "Downstar has promised to exile you. Just play along with Waspdawn's version of events." Exile… not much different from the life Lemmy knew before RippleClan, before the Witch Hunters. And it wasn't as though she would lack purpose. There were still threats to the cats she cared for, threats to her kits and mate. She would do more good alive than dead. Even if it meant never seeing her daughters again. Maybe they would understand, one day.

"Do one thing for me, in return," Lemmy said. "Take care of my family."

"You deserve that, at least," Honeybuzz sighed. "Thank you. Are you ready, then?" Lemmy slowly approached the edge of the quarantine den. She could smell the grief and rage wafting off her Clan, just around the corner. The sun burned the land in brilliant purple and red, yet no warmth pierced the snow that muffled all birdsong. The walls of the shipwreck burned with illusionary fire. A good final view of her home.

"Take me to my exile," Lemmy sighed.

(Lemmy: 66, female, exiled, cold, deep StarClan bond, good mediator)

(Honeybuzz: 38, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Estherfern: 124, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Scaleripple: 43, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Oilstripe: 94, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Halibutdusk: 82, nonbinary (they/them), warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

[badlydrawnbeastcookies]

i had a dream i revived this blog. do you guys think i should do it?

[im2tired4usernames]

You know if your church has an attitude that child education is a waste of time because God and revolutions is coming anytime and the world's just gonna end so the children don't need to waste time to know math and that you need to train them up right they just need to study the Bible and love God your church is lit just a dooms day cult and not even trying to hide it

[ame-to-ame]

there are things that you don't do for a year or more and pick up just right where you left off and these days i fear loving you might be one of them

[wizardnuke]

now a dnd party with a strong bond and synergy is great and all and i'm confident that my party will get there but as of right now only about 5-6 sessions in we've had multiple shouting fights, countless threats, and one instance of pvp. now. i hope this changes. me and one guy are sort of working to fix that. but it's so fun don't discount the joys of you and your friends pretending to hate each other

[mrfoox]

Another one of those ... 'i' ve been lucky' but... Having ASD really makes you easier to manipulate and use and I feel I've been fortune to not have come across anyone who have done such to me...

[yikes-ajax-thats-sad]

Tfw your mom is probably having a heart attack and no doctors will see her but you're too busy crying because there's Valentine's Day stuff out

[mariasont]

im obsessed with reid’s hands. He’s got gorgeous long fingers its just🫶🏻😩. Id like to request a fic/blurbs whichever you prefer, revolves around that.. maybe he knows the reader loves his hands (especially when he cradles her face-neck and hair pulling).. nothing too spicy tho.. if you dont mind. Love your fics sm🥹

Where Hands Lead - S.R

a/n: i am also a victim to being desperately obsessed with spencer's hands! guilty af! and thank u so much babes i appreicate the love and the request <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: established relationship, hand kink, spencer being a smug little shit, domestic fluff, teasing galore, just two cuties being ridiculously in love!

wc: 1.6k

Spencer Reid's hands were a marvel. You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you noticed them--maybe it was the day you saw him fiddling with a pen during a team meeting, his fingers deftly spinning it like he'd been born doing it. Or maybe it was the time he'd held out a hand to help you up after you got knocked on your ass after rough case, his long fingers wrapping around yours, pulling you to his feet. Whatever the moment, the realization hit you like a freight train: Spencer's hands were distracting. 

Of course, you never said it out loud. Not at first. How do you casually tell your boyfriend that his hands are your newest fixation? You'd settled for sneaky glances, admiring the way his fingers moved over the keys of his computer or absentmindedly tapped against his thigh when he was lost in thought. 

You thought you were being subtle.

But Spencer was sharper than you gave him credit for... and you gave him a lot of credit.

It started with small things. The way he'd catch you staring and tilt his head slightly, curiosity painting his features. Or how his lips would quirk into the barest smile when he'd reach for something near you and your gaze lingered a second too long. He'd never said anything, but you had the nagging suspicion he was onto you.

Then came the day he decided to test his theory.

It had been a rare quiet evening at his apartment. The team's latest case had wrapped up earlier than expected, leaving you both with an unexpectedly free night. Spencer, ever the perfectionist, had insisted on cooking dinner. You'd agreed easily, not-so-secretly thrilled at the prospect of spending uninterrupted tie with him. He'd shooed you out of the kitchen when you tried to help, insisting that you relax while he handled everything.

You were setting the table when it started. Spencer reached over to hand you a glass, his fingers brushing against yours. You glanced at him quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed the way your breath caught.

He had.

Spencer's expression didn't give away much--just the faintest quirk of his lips as he turned back to the counter. He began chopping vegetables, his fingers expertly curling and flexing around the knife. The movement was smooth, precise, almost hypnotic, and before you knew it, your eyes were drawn to them again.

"Everything okay over there?" he asked casually, not looking up. His voice was innocent enough, sure, but there was a certain lilt to it that made your cheeks heat.

"Fine," you replied, probably too quickly, forcing your attention back to the table. You busied yourself with arranging the plates, trying to will away the warmth spreading through you. 

Spencer, however, wasn't finished with whatever game he seemed to be playing. As you moved past him to grab utensils, he shifted just enough for his hand to brush against the small of your back. The touch was so light it could have been accidental, but it lingered just a fraction too long to be dismissed entirely. The warmth of it sparked along your spine, making your pulse leap in a way you couldn't quite explain.

What was wrong with you today? He was your boyfriend, for crying out loud. Casual touches like this were normal--expected, even. And yet, every brush of his fingers seemed to unravel you more. You cast a quick glance up at him, trying to gauge if he'd noticed your reaction, but Spencer simply smiled, his expression innocent, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

You clenched the utensils in your hand, suddenly desperate to shake off this fixation before Spencer figured out what was going on. The last thing you needed was for him to think you were completely crazy--obsessed with something as specific as his hands. Surely, that wasn't normal. 

 By the time you finally sat down to eat, your nerves were fully frayed. Flustered didn't even begin to cover it. Spencer, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. He moved with his usually calm efficiency, placing food on the table with a soft smile. As he handed you a serving spoon, his fingers brushed against yours once again--warm, gentle, and far too distracting. You lingered a second longer than necessary, and while he didn't say a word, the subtle upward twitch of his lips suggested he notice.

Determined to pull yourself together, you focused on your plate. Or at least, you tried. Every movement Spencer made seemed designed to draw your attention. The way his long fingers curled around his fork, deliberate and precise, made your breath hitch. His index finger tapped lightly against the side of his glass as he considered something. Even the simple act of wiping his mouth with his napkin--slow, measured, maddeningly deliberate--seemed orchestrated to unravel you.

When dinner ended, you were quick to rise, eager to clear the table and escape the tight coil of your own thoughts. But Spencer was quicker. Before you could take a single step, his hand caught your wrist, fingers curling around you with just enough pressure to stop you in your tracks.

"I'll take care of it," he said, thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist before letting go.

Normally, you would argue. He'd cooker dinner, after all--it was only fair that you clean up. But today left you rooted to the spot. You sank back into your chair, wordless, your gaze following him as he moved around the kitchen.

Spencer rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the lean muscle of his forearms, and your eyes betrayed you once again, drawn back to his hands. The way they worked was mesmerizing--graceful and efficient as he dried plates, stacked dishes, and wiped down the counters with practiced ease. 

Spencer must have felt your gaze because he glanced over his shoulder, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. He didn't rush, taking his time as he finished tidying up. When he was done, he dried his hands on a dish towel, then set it aside before making his way back to you. His hands were empty now, but no less captivating.

Stopping in front of your chair, Spencer lowered himself to one knee, his eyes meeting yours. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Heat swelled to your face, mind scrambling for something--anything--coherent to say. "I--what?"

Spencer chuckled softly, his hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You're not as subtle as you think."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped you.

"Next time," he continued, his thumb moving to brush against your cheek, his touch featherlight, "just tell me. I'd hate for you to sit there suffering in silence."

"I... don't know what you mean."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, is that right?"

You nodded quickly.

"So you wouldn't mind if I did this?" he murmured, reaching out to cup your cheeks with the utmost care.

The warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, his thumb brushing slow, delicate arcs along your cheekbones. His fingers, long and steady, curled around the sides of your face, glueing you in place. Your breath hitched, the air between you thickening as your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. Words failed you, leaving only the rapid thrum of your heart.

"Or this?" he added, voice softer now, almost a whisper. His fingers slid upward, tangling in your hair with a sort of practiced ease that sent sparks racing along your legs. He tugged lightly, just enough to tilt your head and pull a soft, involuntary gasp from your lips. The gentle pressure was intoxicating, and you bit down on your bottom lip, completely undone.

"Spencer..." you managed, though it barely passed a whisper. His name trembled on your lips, a plea and a confession all at once.

"Or this?" he continued, one hand sliding down to rest on your thigh. His fingers curled just slightly. Your pulse quickened, a fluttering sound that betrayed just how completely he had you in his grasp. Spencer leaned in closer, expression smug, lips moving into a smile that left you breathless. 

"And what about this?" he added, voice dropped to a hushed murmur as his hand moved to tilt your chin upward. Before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow, purposeful, and impossible to do anything but melt into. His hands moved back to cradle your face, fingers brushing against your jaw and the sensitive curve of your neck, their touch igniting a fire that spread through your entire body.

When he finally pulled away, you felt like all the air had been vacuumed from your lungs, cheeks flushed and heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could here it.

"Yeah, um," you stammered, the words tumbling out awkwardly as you struggled to regain your footing, "I don't think I mind... you could, uh, do it again if you wanted to."

Spencer's lips quirked into a slow, satisfied smile, his eyes sparkling. "Oh, is that so?"

He leaned in once more, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, it was slower, unhurried, as if he were savoring every second. 

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, savoring the moment.

When he pulled back, hands still cradling your face, he chuckled softly. "You know lucky for you, if my hands are your favorite thing about me, I've got two of them and all the time in the world."

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[the-secret-formulaone]

prompt: you and max have been secretly together for years. neither the fans or the media have a clue. what happens when you and max are neck and neck for the drivers championship and you get the unexpected news that you’re pregnant?

pairing: max verstappen x ferrari! reader

word count: ~7.6k

warnings: 18+, cursing, mentions of sex but no real smut, mentions of miscarriage, some mention of blood

a/n: hello, i'm brand new at writing fanfic for f1. i've had this idea for a while and it was eating at me so i hope you enjoy. i thought it would be cool to have it be like a normal fic with a bit of that social!au content that the fandom loves.

this is pt.1 of how everything is going down and then the next and final part will be what happens after, her pregnancy and what reader does this time around. along with some fan social media mayhem.

id love to hear your thoughts!

enjoy!

LAS VEGAS, USA | NOV 2024

The nausea settling in the pit of your stomach is unbearable, it gets worse with each lap you complete. You're confident you can push through and finish the race without throwing up in your helmet, until the track begins doubling and tripling.

You haven’t felt this dizzy since you crashed in Spa three years ago due to rain. There were no stakes then as you were having a bad race weekend and started P7. Today you’re P1 and the gap between you and Max is getting shorter as you slow to try and compensate for the nausea and dizziness.

You hear your team in your ear, asking you if the car's giving you trouble since there’s no apparent reason for you to be slowing down at this point. Especially with ten laps to go.

“The car is fine,” you say through gritted teeth, trying to relax your abdomen to keep the nausea at bay.

“Then what’s the matter? Are you okay?” Riccardo, your race engineer, asks. His tone is stern yet concerned.

“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine. My head feels like it’s spinning is all.” You're nonchalant but deep inside you’re panicking. This race means so much to you and your team. Now is not the time to get sick.

“Can you finish the race?” His filtered voice asks through the radio.

“Yes, I’m finishing the bloody race,” you curse, pressing on the gas pedal and tightening the hold on the steering wheel.

“If you continue feeling this way, box immediately,” he orders, not wanting to risk the safety of his driver, “By the way Max is 2 seconds behind you.”

“Fucking hell.” After all the work to create a 10 second gap Max is catching up because your body decided to get sick.

There’s rage building inside of you, keeping Max away is the most difficult part of racing. It took pure skill to keep him at a distance, he’s only catching up because you’re slowing. You're letting yourself down.

It’s been a battle of pole positions and fastest laps for you two. The championship is within your reach, threatening to break Max’s two year streak. It's why Max is giving everything he has to get ahead of you. If he wins this race he’ll be on top once more.

Another bout of nausea takes over your body, shivers running down your spine. Why are you nauseous and dizzy? You were hydrated before the race, the temperature in the car is warm as always but it’s cool outside, unlike Singapore, and you felt perfectly fine earlier.

It’s most likely karma for teasing Max this morning and leaving him with a raging hard on.

You notice Max in your peripheral vision. He’s ready to attack and regain P1. You accelerate and block him as best you can but nearing the turn you miscalculate giving Max the perfect opportunity to pass you.

He settles right in front of you, mocking how he got ahead so easily. If you didn’t love him and felt the bile coming up your throat you would’ve cursed at him. You were famously known for insulting the men driving the other cars.

At this point, you weren’t driving straight and your race engineer, Riccardo was telling you to pit and pull out of the race.

“I promise you I’m good enough to finish the race,” you say after a moment to swallow the bile coming up. You'd rather die than DNF'ing with a handful of laps to go.

“Norris is catching up. Let’s finish this race quickly so you can get checked.”

You’re glad you created a gap at the beginning of the race, otherwise Lando and Charles, your teammate, would’ve caught up already.

You see Lando trying to overtake you but you surprisingly block him and go as fast as you can. It’s not your best work and the FIA will have something to say about it but you make do.

Finally, down the final straight you press on the gas and cross the finish line. You finish the race out of pure muscle memory since you can’t rely on your distorted vision. Ignoring the celebratory cheers, you pull up on the spot marked #2. No one says anything about the askew parking job.

Your hands are clumsy, pulling out the steering wheel and standing. One of your teammates is right there giving you the hand you clearly need as you sway and almost fall straight out of the car.

Max is none the wiser, calmly getting out the RB and running over to his team who congratulate and scream his name. In his head, you lost control of your car, giving him a way to pass you. That's how F1 works.

You pull on your helmet and all the straps fast, the Ferrari team member helping you when he sees your urgency. As soon as you pull off your balaclava you bend over and empty the contents of your stomach.

Privacy be damned.

It’s not pretty. You’ve been holding this in for 20 laps and it’s not going to stop any time soon. The cameras focus on you as you push away the Ferrari team and finish throwing up. Ready hands catch you and you’re sat on a wheel chair as they roll you over to the medics. You close your eyes and throw your head back, everything around you spinning.

The murmurs of the crowd and the media cause Max to notice. He catches sight of you being wheeled away into the back. He takes a tentative step towards you, itching to be by your side but remembers the agreement you made to keep your relationship a secret.

Sometimes he hates how stubborn you are. At this point, the world should know you two are together, married even. Yet he understands your hesitancy with how cruel the media and the fans can be.

Max stays rooted on the spot, watchful eyes and dozens of lenses noticing every movement. Lando gets close to Max trying to avoid the cameras.

“What happened?” Lando asks referring to you.

“No idea, mate,” Max says, staring intently at the door you were just rolled through. A sleuth of Ferrari members following.

“She wasn't driving straight,” Lando shakes his head. He knew something was off when he caught up to her. “It was so unpredictable it made it harder on me to battle it.”

Max didn’t think much when he pulled up behind you but he did think it was strange how easy it was to overtake you. You always give him the hardest time.

He remembers this morning when you were in bed kissing him, touching him, teasing him. You were so cheeky, his length in your hand as you sweet talked him. 'Convincing' him to throw the race. Not like he’d ever do it. You were simply having your fun with him.

There wasn’t any sign of sickness then. It’s not like you spun out during the race either. You had been flawless out on the track until you weren’t.

“I'm going to check on her,” Max tells Lando, motioning with his head and wondering what exactly is wrong with his wife.

"Just wait," Lando stops him with a hand on his chest. They notice Charles in the Ferrari garage, heading to the back where they have you. "If you go, it'll stir up rumors."

Max tenses his jaw and looks away. With a roll of his eyes he turns to get weighed. He doesn't like it but Lando is right. He doesn't give a damn about his reputation only yours and the promise he made you.

f1_news tweeted: Ferrari’s Princess is transferred to hospital after race. It was heard through their radio she was having severe motion sickness, giving Max Verstappen the lead. Not many details are known as of this moment. More updates coming soon!

comments:

user2: hope she’s doing okay! she needs to come back to kick max's ass and take the championship from him 😮‍💨

user3: bet max is celebrating

-> user4: he looked very concerned when he saw her in the wheelchair

-> user14: who wouldn’t, she looked like death 💀

user4: did ya'll notice max disappear after the ceremony?

-> user5: lol he was making sure his favorite rival was okay 🤣

-> user101: no point in staying if he can’t rub it in her face 🤐

user6: our ferrari princess 👸 looked out of it. not sure how she made it out the car

user7: the podium felt so empty without her in it 😓

-> user8: did you notice max kept looking at the spot she was supposed to be as if expecting her to suddenly appear

-> user9: she’s like his best friend and his enemy wrapped in one. can’t live with her, can't live without her

-> user10: i swear he’s in love with her. 🗣️ it’s not normal the way he looks at her

-> user11: please, she’s married. you guys need to stop being delusional and stop shipping her with every guy on the grid

-> user10: not every guy, just max and maybe charles… -> user76: let's take a moment to appreciate charles immediately asking about her and leaving the track to see how she was. it's a win for us predestined x princess shippers

In the hospital, they quickly take you into a private room. The nurses retake your vitals and give you a shot to help with the nausea. A doctor comes in relatively quickly, asking you an array of questions to help him figure out why you got sick.

"The nurse should be in quickly to draw blood. I'm not too worried about this being anything other than a virus but we just want to make sure you're all good before leaving."

"Thank you, doc," you respond, lying back on the bed. They've given you one of the flimsiest hospital gowns in existence but you've gotta admit it's more comfortable than your race suit.

It's awfully lonely in the hospital room but it gives you time to relax and wind down. Fred and Riccardo were extremely concerned for your well being- not related at all to the fact you're on the run to win the championship-forcing you to go into the hospital.

Their stressed energy, the ambulance ride and then the nurses fussing over you was overwhelming. It would've made your nausea worse had it not been for the shot.

You're snoozing off when the door opens and your husband walks in. Max has a backpack slung over his shoulder with a set of clothes for you, along with your phone and other personal belongings you left at the paddock. He hurries over to you, dropping the bag and wrapping his arms around you.

"I was so worried, schatje," Max says in your ear, kissing your temple. The softness of his hoodie and the familiar scent he carries is comforting.

"I'm okay. You should keep your distance though, doc says I have a virus," you tell him, slightly pushing him away.

He’s stubborn as he keeps hold of your hand. "I don't care if I get sick. We've got two weeks until the next race, plenty of time for me to get better." Max sits on the chair next to your bed, asking you what happened during today’s race and listening to every word you say.

"What did they do for podium?" You later ask curiously, turning on your side to get more comfortable. Max props his head on his hand as he leans on your bed, getting closer to you despite your protests.

"Riccardo was there to accept it," Max tells you, kissing the back of your hand. He had been really worried. A part of him kept checking his surroundings for any sign of you.

It’s days like today where he wishes your relationship wasn’t secret. Max wants to express how worried he was about his girlfriend wife. He wanted to say ‘fuck you’ to all protocol and go after you.

He understands your reluctance and the need for privacy in your personal life. He knows what it’s like to have his privacy invaded and Max agrees that good things have come out of keeping your relationship a secret but you’ve also had to miss out on others. One day, you’ll have to come clean to the public to be able to live your life to the fullest.

The doctor returns before he can vocalize this. He knocks on the door as he steps into the room, a tablet in his hands. “Results have come back. Would you like the gentleman to step out or is it okay if he stays?”

“He’s my husband,” you tell the doctor.

You're used to people not recognizing you outside of Formula One but Max is more known than you. You wait for the doctor to react at the sight of Max, except there’s not an ounce of recognition in his face. Good, or else, you’d have to rely on his patient-doctor confidentiality.

“Let’s get into it then. Lab’s show dehydration which is normal for the state you came in like. In addition, to the fact, you had just finished a physically demanding race. Surprisingly they also showed that your quantitative hCG levels are high meaning—"

“I’m pregnant?” You pan, shocked. Max's hand tightens around yours. Last year's endeavors left you with enough knowledge to know what that term means.

“Yes, you are pregnant,” he nods.

Max instantly turns towards you in complete shock. There’s part of him that’s happy but then there’s another that’s concerned. Personally, he’d love to have a child but it would mean you would have to sacrifice the championship.

You stare at the doctor with parted lips and furrowed brows, “That’s impossible. I have an IUD.” This couldn't be happening at a worse time.

“All methods of contraception have a percentage of failure,” the doctor sighs. “Your pregnancy explains today's sudden dizziness and nausea.”

“Do you know how far along she is?” Max asks, holding your hand tightly to show his support.

“We would need an ultrasound for that but based on her last menstrual period it can’t be more than 6 weeks.”

“Six weeks,” you breath out. You could only hear your pounding heart and the air coming in and out of your mouth. God, you've been training and driving the whole time. For fucks sake, just two weeks ago you had been celebrating your win with lots of alcohol.

You hardly hear the doctor excuse himself, leaving you and Max alone. Tears brim your eyes at the cruelty of the universe. You have in your hands the two things you want most in life. A shot at the championship and the opportunity to become a mother.

Max sits on the bed, wiping away your tears. He doesn’t say much, at a loss of words. There’s not much he can say to make this better but he thumbs away your tears and pulls you into a hug.

You fist his shirt in your hands, crying onto his shoulder, “This is not fair.”

“I know, schatje.” Max is at a loss. He understands the conflicting feelings you have. It’s no easy thing especially after everything you and Max went through.

“I can’t go through this again,” you sob, remembering the painful memories of the previous year.

United Arab Emirates | Nov 2022

The last race of the season has come quickly, deeming Max the World Champion for the second time running. He’s at the top of the podium as the Dutch national anthem plays. You look up at him from the third position, smiling at him proudly.

You’re frustrated that you weren’t able to catch up to him but you’re confident your time will come. Every year you’ve spent in the grid you’ve been able to rise through the ranks and get great contracts.

Mercedes took a chance on you this year and you’ve made them proud. It was a challenge against Ferrari and Red Bull but as the only woman you’d say you did brilliant.

You’re going to miss this next year but a break is due. After years of hard training and dedicating everything to your career you’ve decided to focus on your personal life.

It’s been nearly a year since you’ve married Max and the conversation surrounding children becomes more constant. It's a nagging sensation in the back of your head. A longing you can't stop.

Feeling at peace with your performance, you decided to take this next year to become a mother. You’re young so in two years you’re sure you can come back stronger than ever and give Max a run for his money.

As the ceremony comes to an end, the party begins and the champagne bottles are brought out. “Don’t run,” Max laughs, spraying the frothy liquid in your direction.

You fight back, shaking the bottle and spraying some at Max and Charles. They gang up on you as Charles blocks your way and they both spray you. That will keep the fans making edits for months to come, the implication of the action clear.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Charles yells over the cheers when you aim the spray at his mouth.

Getting off the stage and into a private room, Max takes off his hat and pulls you in by the waist to press his sweet tasting lips against yours. You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. “Congrats two-time world champion.”

“Thank you, schatje,” Max responds, brushing back the hair sticking to your forehead.

“Get a room you two,” Charles huffs, knowing you forgot he was there.

“Sorry,” you say with a blush.

“I’m not,” Max laughs, stealing another kiss.

Outside, reporters of all kind were waiting to interview all three of you. They want Max’s celebratory words and you and Charles’ disappointment and regret. They live for the heartfelt promises you'll make for next season.

“Over here!” A reporter calls you, handing you a microphone. “What’s the plan for next year? Are you renewing with Mercedes or is there another team making offers?”

“I come with sad news,” you pout at the camera, “I won’t be on the grid next year.”

The reporter stares wide-eyed at you. This is the first time you've said those words out loud. “Could you share with us why?”

You nod at his question, fixing your hat as you speak the words you rehearsed many times before. “Since I was young I was prioritizing racing and getting into Formula One. I love how far I’ve come but I want to take a step back and enjoy my personal life for a little while. As you know, I got married a year ago and I want to enjoy that newlywed life. I will be back though,” you say with a smile and a wink at the camera.

“Is there a chance you’ll tell us who the lucky guy is?” The reporter questions, not really expecting you to answer. That the one thing you won't disclose.

You laugh, shaking your head at him, “No chance. I like to keep my personal life private.”

“Worth a shot," the reporter laughs with you. "Thank you for your time and we hope to see you soon!”

youtube upload: The Grid's Princess QUITS

thumbnail 📸: Toto Wolff looking angry and yelling at a Mercedes staff member. Lewis Hamilton with an arm around an upset looking reader.

comments:

user25: our queen is leaving? 😫 user30: who is going to keep the boys in check -> user5: i bet that’s why she’s taking a break, it’s not easy keeping charles and max under control user6: aren’t we curious as to who this mystery husband is? 👀 -> user17: i bet it’s either someone old or a billionaire, or both, i mean did you see the rock on her finger? -> user 46: oh they must be loaded to win over the grid's princess -> user96: i'm sorry but until i see proof of this man i will continue to set her up with charles user59: please, use a more dramatic title user48: i'm ready to fight 🤺 whoever made her stop racing. she's the only reason i watch them go in circles. who else is going to learn french to curse out charles properly? user55: *sigh* guess it’s time to rewatch all of the edits of her and max on repeat until she returns user104: let’s make a game. take a shot every time max and charles mention her next season.

Monaco | March 2023

When you temporarily retired, you thought you'd become pregnant in a matter of weeks. That is not the case.

Movies make it seem so easy to become pregnant, when in reality, it’s a challenge. It took nearly four months and multiple doctor visits for you to become with child.

The Winter break was spent tangled in sheets, keeping warm in each others embrace. Max was insatiable and so were you. Any chance you had you’d be dragging him somewhere private, his hands pulling at your underwear to tug them off...or to the side.

Max's voice would be in your ear as he spoke of how good you take him. He'd encourage you with words he'd never otherwise use. His cologne would intoxicate you, putting you in a trance.

His hold was firm and steady, making you shake and arch against him. His length sinking into you until you came with his name on your lips and his seed inside you.

Then, it finally happened. A positive pregnancy test in your bathroom counter. The alarm rang loudly, making you and Max share a nervous glance.

“You look,” you say with a shaky voice and shakier hands. Your period was late, followed by your tender breasts and the morning sickness. You fear your body was making it up because you wanted it so much.

“Before that,” Max says, cupping your face, “Don’t be disappointed if it’s negative. We’re just getting started and we have a whole year to try, yeah?”

You place your hands over his and nod with a small smile. Max presses a kiss to your forehead before he picks up the home test.

Max erupts in a smile, nodding and showing you the word positive. You scream, falling into his arms. He spins you around, kissing all over your face.

You and Max are over the moon, giddily waiting for every appointment with your doctor. Every ultrasound was recorded along with the babies heart beat.

Max is ecstatic. He's been wanting to have a family with you since he realized you were the one. He thought it wouldn't happen for a long time but then you revealed you wanted it too and soon despite your career.

It took a long conversation to figure out how to go about it with both of your careers being at their peak but you came to an agreement. He was ready be a father and you were ready to be a mother, even if it meant putting your career in pause.

Your desire to bring a child into the world was greater than giving the championship another shot. Whenever you're ready to return to F1, he'll take a step back and support you.

Max planned a dinner with the whole family where you told them you were expecting. Plans to decorate the nursery littered your coffee table and your internet browser history was filled with shop links with cute clothes and baby items.

Weeks later, it happened. Something felt wrong, off.

“Maxie,” you breathe heavily, feeling wet between your legs. Cramps littering your lower abdomen.

“What's wrong?” Max sits up in bed, sensing your distressed state. His gaze fixes on the red stain forming on the white sheets.

“I’m scared,” you cry, afraid to move or do anything. Cramps squeezing your insides like a bad period.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” Max reassures you, “Let’s go to the bathroom, yeah? I’ll call the doctor.”

A quick trip to the ER confirmed it. You miscarried.

You couldn’t look at Max that night, hugging yourself tightly as he drove home. You ignored all the glances he threw your way, shiying away from the hand that reached out for you.

All that happiness you felt drained out of you, leaving complete sadness behind.

Max was sad about the baby but he was more focused on you and the toll it took on you. It was always a possibility. The doctor spoke about what to expect on the first trimester and this was one of the things he mentioned. You both chose to ignore it at the time.

Max kept most of the lights off in the apartment. Remembering the bags with baby stuff from your online shopping. He kept the spare bedroom closed, where you were planning how to arrange it and paint it to transform it into the nursery.

He’s never seen you this devastated. After years of knowing you and dating you he never had the chance to see you at your lowest. It breaks his fucking heart.

Max holds you that night while you're in pain and bleeding. He rocks you as you cry, tears spilling from his eyes too as all that new hope is crushed.

You need him. Max is all you have at the moment because while he goes to race on the weekends and clear his head, you stay home with the weight of losing a baby.

Zandvoort | August 2023

With medical clearance and a couple of months to heal mentally. You and Max got to trying again.

You aren’t quitters and again you both desperately want a child. There's lots of sex, more than before. Something reignited in the relationship, like when the relationship began. Nothing could keep you away from Max back then.

He would fuck you wherever he could. Often times risking being seen. It was a moment where neither of you cared about being caught or being exposed to the whole world.

The Two-Time World Champion and the Grid’s Princess. Happily Married and Horny for Each Other.

The second time you found out you were pregnant was in Zandvoort, Max’s home race. You weren’t traveling as much trying to give your body rest and hopefully encourage it to take but this was a special track for Max so you tagged along.

Similar symptoms were arising so you waited to arrive at Zandvoort to take the test with Max. You were once again in the bathroom, sitting on the counter. He was between your legs, his head on your chest, waiting for the four minutes to be over.

“If it’s negative?” You asked, your fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp to relax him.

“Then we try again and again and again,” he says cheekily, grabbing onto your thighs and kissing you.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” you giggle, pulling at his roots to make him groan.

“Perhaps but I’m not the one yelling out my name,” he smirks, recalling the other night when he had you with your legs up on his shoulders as he entered you slow and deep. If he closes his eyes he can hear your whiny moans begging for him to tip you over the edge.

“Poor Checo had to call the front desk and fill in a complaint,” you giggle, hiding your face from Max with your hands.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t see his text,” Max shrugs, not having a care in the world.

He was in his suite with his wife, having fun and trying to conceive. It’s not his fault he was making you feel so good you felt the need to scream his name and it’s not his fault Checo’s bedroom was right next to yours. Blame the Red Bull team for reserving two suites right next to each other.

The triggering alarm sounds, making your heart race. This time you grab the test, deciphering what the faint lines mean. You ran out of the good pregnancy tests and you were too lazy to go out and get new ones.

“It’s positive!” You squeal, showing the home test to Max.

Max’s eyes widen, “We did it!”

“I'm so happy,” you tear up from joy, hugging Max’s shoulders. Nothing is stopping him tomorrow on the track. He’s going to ride this high as long as possible.

Max grabs your thighs, forcing you to wrap your legs around him. He carries you over to the bed, kissing your lips, your neck, your chest.

Max was going to make you scream out his name again.

There was little celebration. You and Max kept the news to yourselves for a while longer. You took every precaution on the book. You stopped traveling with Max afraid it was one of the causes of your first miscarriage. You took care of your diet, you did minimal exercise, took every prenatal vitamin you could find but much like the first time, it happened again.

This time you felt so defeated, like something was wrong with you. Like maybe you weren’t meant to bring a child into the world or become a mother.

Max found you on the balcony one night after it happened. It was freezing outside so he got a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“‘I'm sorry,” you sniffle, not meeting his eyes. Your tears were cold against your cheeks.

“For what?” Max asks, watching you carefully. Your eyes red rimmed and nose runny.

“There’s something wrong with me and I can’t give us a baby,” you cry softly, wiping away at your tears.

You feel so ashamed and embarrassed. Having a baby shouldn’t be this fucking hard. You’ve done so much in life and this simple thing you can’t do. Something your body was designed to do.

“Hey, no. You know what the doctor said. There’s nothing wrong with you and there’s so many other ways we can have children together,” Max chides you, pulling his chair closer and grabbing your shoulders so you look at him.

“If there’s nothing wrong with me why does it keep happening?” You ask as your eyes well with more tears. They haven’t stopped in a good ten minutes.

“It’s not our time yet.” It’s the only thing Max can say. He doesn’t have all the answers in the world but there is one thing he’s sure of. “I love you no matter what.”

“I don’t want to go through this again.” Your bottom lip wobbles as you speak. The words getting caught on your throat.

It’s not like you don’t want children because you desperately do but you can’t go through another disappointment. More pain and more blood. More false hope.

“You don’t have to,” Max tells you, comforting you the best way he can. He picks you up, settling you on his lap as he wraps his arms around you. He kisses your head, coming up with words to make you feel better.

He doesn’t want a child if the process is going to cause you so much suffering. It’s hard seeing you like this when he’s used to seeing you be this independent strong woman, who broke barriers in a field of men.

He’s discovering a new side to you deep into your relationship. He loves you but it’s shocking to see you be this vulnerable when a lot of times you love to handle things on your own. In a way, he’s happy he’s able to be here with you and help you.

Monza | November 2023

In Formula One rumors spread like wildfire. Within the teams and its members and riders the reason for your break didn’t remain a secret for long.

It didn’t stop certain teams from reaching out and persuading you into joining them. As far as they know you’re not pregnant yet and you did promise to return one day.

As the only woman in the grid you pull in lots of sponsors and the media and fans love you. Having you on a team is a win all around, considering you also bring in trophies.

Ferrari is a big team showing their interest in you. They’ve sent your manager multiple invitations for you to come and visit Ferrari Headquarters. No strings attached just a simple tour and meeting.

It’s tempting. Driving for Ferrari is every F1 racers dream and to be invited to test out their car and talk business is an honor.

You went quietly to the meeting, undecided if it’s the choice you want to make. Mercedes awaits your return whenever you’re ready, having led them to victory many times alongside Lewis.

Oh, Toto Wolff has you in his sight constantly. If he knew you were at Monza he’d probably fly down and get you out. You’re one of his biggest assets yet.

“There's our princess,” Charles greets you, running up to you and giving you a big hug.

He missed having you around. The fans never let him forget of all the good times, constantly tagging him on instagram and twitter.

“Hey Charles,” you laugh as he sways you from side to side.

“I missed you,” he says as he guides you over to the garage.

“Missed me kicking your ass?” You quip, playfully pushing him.

“Please, competing against Max on my own is exhausting. Too much responsibility,” Charles admits.

“He’s having the time of his life.” Max has the most fun when there are challenges and Charles has proven to be a worthy one. Insults and all. He loves getting a rise out of him.

The Ferrari team sets you up with a bright red race suit, giving you a visual of what your future has in store.

The feel of the baclavla is familiar around your head and the weight of the helmet comforting. It’s been a year since you last wore the uniform and it feels like home.

You step into the car, slidding in the steering wheel. The crew gives you the signal to pull out and you do with a push on the gas.

The rumble of the engine is exhilarating as is the blend of colors around you. It comes back so naturally, knowing when to push the car when to break. Learning this car is easy, like it’s made for you.

It has the potential to be a winner, to help you achieve the goal of becoming world champion.

“Ready to join Scuderia Ferrari?” Frederic Vasseif asks you once you get out of the car. There’s a smugness to him. He knows you enjoyed it and you’re itching for more.

“I don’t know. Carlos seems to be doing really well,” you try to play it cool, taking off your helmet and baclavla to shake off your hair.

“He’s good but you’re the greatest,” Fred says, giving you a knowing look.

“If I accept it’s because I want to win the Championship,” you negotiate. Charles is the first driver and it makes sense he stays there since he’s been with the team longer but you will not sacrifice yourself for him.

“We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Fred agrees, extending his hand to shake yours.

“The predestined and the princess?” Charles smiles, wrapping an arm around you.

You smile and bite your lip, “It’s time to take down Max Verstappen.”

No wonder the fans think there’s a long standing rivalry between you and Max. You talk a lot about taking him down and winning the championship. With the trust you two have he bites back with words of his own. It makes for quite a show. They’re going to lose it once it’s revealed you’re joining Ferrari.

Your joy returning home is palpable. Max notices it the moment you walk into your shared home in Monaco. The cats notice it too as they weave between your legs asking to be pet.

"Hi, love," Max greets you, placing his hands on your hips and kissing you. You wrap your arms your his neck loosely, smiling into the kiss.

He doesn't let you go when the kiss breaks, his thumbs caressing your back. You smile at him, a hand on his face, as your fingers brush over his stubble. He leans into it. “How did it go?”

“It's top secret," you say cheekily.

"Really?" Max follows along amusedly, "You can't even tell your dear husband Max Emilian?"

It's been an inside joke since you started dating that the person you're dating is Max Emilian and not Max Verstappen. Helps keep things separated to a certain degree but mostly it's funny.

"Well, if it's Max Emilian asking I can tell him that I've just signed with Ferrari and that Max Verstappen will have some serious competition next year," you tell him as your smile widens.

“Congratulations!" Max exclaims, hugging you tightly. You laugh is music in his ears. From the moment you stepped in he knew something changed. You were laughing and smiling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“I’m a Ferrari girl now and I’m going to take that title from you,” she boasts, playfully pushing him.

“That’s a big statement,” he says, playfully caging her in his arms. Max adores that her competitive streak is back, it's one of the things he fell in love with when you began dating.

Being married means being there in the bad and the good, in sickness and in health. He'll be by your side through it all but he'd rather have you be happy and competitive than depressed and anxious.

“What you think I can’t do it?” You laugh when he tries tickling you. Your this close to elbowing him if he doesn't stop.

Finally letting up, he cups your face and looks into your eyes as he says, “If there’s someone who is going to do it, it’s you. You're my girl after all.”

f1 posted on instagram: The Princess is back and in red. Everyone bow down. 📸: Reader wearing a Ferrari race suit posing in front of the new Ferrari SF-23. Comments: user8: holy shit she’s back

user95: this was not on my bingo card, but it was in my dreams every night since she left -> user57: like a wise woman once said in rome; this is what dreams are made of

user72: guess she had enough of that married life and is back to wreck these boys

user14: i might actually fucking cry. our queen is back and in ferrari red -> user98: red is definitely her color. -> user67: you know who's color it is too? charles... ->user53: you know who likes charles? max... ->user17: i can't with you 💀

user67: i want to see max squirm with both charles and her against him -> user55: please if anything it’ll turn him on -> user45: hell even i'm turned on

user88: wait does this mean she can’t curse at charles anymore? -> user68: don't worry, the second charles gets in her way it's coming. don't you remember that one time she almost crashed with lewis and she let him have it? -> user 90: i've never seen lewis be that fast outside of a car

user12: i’ve got my editing program ready, i’ll get all the edits. max x princess, predestined x princess, max x charles, i got them all -> user56: i'm not picky, i'll help -> user02: you should do one where she's walking in like in those wwe fights with the dramatic music

Monaco | Nov 2024

The conversation about the pregnancy is kept on pause. You and Max wait till you're back home in Monaco to continue it. It's fresh in your minds though as you try and make sense of he timing of it all.

There's only two more races to the season, you are so close to the end. You wish you hadn't found out till much later, they do say ignorance is bliss.

You're filled with fear and uncertainty. What if this pregnancy ends up like the rest? What if you give up the championship for something that might not even happen? But what if you chose the championship and give up a viable pregnancy?

The morning after arriving at Monaco you're in the kitchen with your laptop in front of you as you schedule an appointment with your doctor. The cup of coffee you made earlier is now cold as you could barely drink it with so many thoughts in your head.

You cover your face with your hands, groaning at the headache forming so early in the day.

Max finds you like that and he knows it's time to talk. He comes up behind you, pressing a kiss and resting his chin on your shoulder as he hugs you from behind.

"What's on your mind, schatje?"

You take a deep breath, focusing on him to try and gather your thoughts, "I don't know what to do, Maxie. What do I do?"

"I can't tell you what to do. I can tell you that I want to have a baby with you but I don’t want you to go through all that pain again or feel pressured that you need to do this for me. I love you and I want you to be happy. If it's choosing your career I'm here for you. If it's starting a family I'm here as well," Max says as he hugs you tighter until you relax against him.

You shake your head, lacing your fingers with his as they lie on your midsection. "It's the fact that the first two didn't end well and it was such a horrible experience. If I knew for a fact I was going to give birth to this baby I would drop the championship in a heartbeat."

"I'm happy with whatever you choose. Even if you decide that carrying a baby isn't for you. Later on we can try surrogacy or adoption."

It's 2024 and there are tons of options out there in the case you want to become parents. It doesn't have to be one way or no way. Plus, they are young and have their lives ahead of them.

"Really? You couldn’t be like one of the awful men who insist women need to have a baby? You’re making this hard on me," you lightly joke, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss it.

Max laughs along with you. He knows you've made a decision even if you haven't realized. He's only there to guide you. “You already made a decision, schatje.”

Your eyes return to your laptop where the appointment with the specialty clinic is displayed. “I need to give this pregnancy a chance. I mean think about it. I've raced, I've drank alcohol and it's still here. It happened against all odds, Maxie. What if it’s a sign? That the timing is right,” you say, recalling the conversation you had with him a year ago. “I just hate I need to withdraw from the rest of the races.”

Max made a decision that same moment, “I’ll pull out from the races too.” It feels shitty that because you're a woman you have to pull out the races for your safety and the baby's while he continues on like nothing has happened.

“What? That’s insane Max,” you exclaim, staring at him bewildered.

“It’s only fair. You have to do it to have OUR baby, why do you have to be the only one who quits?”

You laugh and shake your head, placing your hands on his chest, “You’re not doing that, Max. This is F1 and it’s ruthless which is why you’re so good at it. Besides, with last Sunday's race you're already ahead of me and there's no chance the others are catching up with two races to go. The title is yours," you reassure him, kissing the corner of his mouth, “It’s not my time to be a world champion yet and maybe it never will. I have to accept that."

Max scoffs, poking his tongue on his cheek, “No, you will be. Once you have this baby you’re coming back even if I have to give away my seat in Red Bull.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you hum, looking into his eyes.

“You beat me on your rookie year,” he reminds you.

Back when you started in F1 and neither you or Max were on the top you had friendly battles in the midst of the races. It wasn't for podium but it kept the fans entertained and recruiters eyes on you both. Max beat you most times but there was one day you beat him on a wet race which is unheard of.

“Once!”

“Once was enough!” He insists. Max fell in love with your competitive side, it didn't matter if you beat him or not. That day when you approached him with that big smile and malicious intent in your eyes he was done for.

“How will we handle the media?” He steers the conversation a different place. He's not sure how much longer he can keep the relationship a secret with a baby on the way.

“Same as always. They can’t know about us yet, Maxie. They will throw your name on the ground and say horrible things.”

If the media finds out that you're pregnant with Max's baby they will say it's sabotage cause he felt threatened that you were going to take the title from him. They don't care for details.

“I don’t know how much longer we can keep this a secret,” he confesses, trying to reason with you.

“Not long okay? After the baby comes,” you promise him. After the baby comes you will tell the world everything.

F1_news tweeted: The Grid's Princess is withdrawing from the rest of the races this season due to her health. Not much is known yet. Carlos Sainz to take over her seat.

comments:

user56: not again please -> user97: i'm in tears -> user57: alexa play 'see you again' by charlie puth

user64: i hope she's doing okay and is able to return next year. she was so close on getting the championship

user76: i love the queen but i'm happy to get charlos back again! -> user34: it's very bitter sweet isn't it? -> user57: i wonder if she'll be back with ferrari next year? -> user45: well her contract is for two years so if she's okay when the next season starts i don't see why not -> user08: contracts mean nothing in F1 user04: get ready to witness a pouty max -> user 87: these next few races will be a piece of cake and he hates it -> user72: i love lando and charles but there's no way they are going to give him a hard time

user46: this is the end of the princess, who is going to want her back? -> user 43: get the fuck out of here you hater -> user345: who asked for your opinion?

F1_fanpage: The Grid's princess seen walking out of a clinic specialized in complicated pregnancies. 📸

user45: holy shit, it all makes fucking sense she’s pregnant -> user58: i didn't want to say anything but dizzy and nausea? it’s textbook pregnancy

user67: our queen is having a prince(ss) -> user176: who is the fucking dad? -> user404: he needs to be a part of F1 for her to still be around when she should be home resting

user47: she's glowing

user68: not her audibly rooting for carlos on the latest race -> user99: well it is only temporary and it's not like they kicked her out. she left because she had to -> user55: we love a supportive queen either way

user88: did ya'll see her interacting with max and charles after the race? they were so careful with her. it makes so much sense! -> user44: i'm hyperventilating we got a max hug! -> user 67: better yet we got a charles hug! -> user12: opening up my editing program as we speak

Part 2 Coming Soon

The world is aware you're now pregnant. You got a job working for the F1 social media and interview team during your pregnancy. Rumors keep spreading about who your husband and baby daddy is. Fans keep shipping you with Max and Charles. Max might just explode if he doesn’t tell everyone, but will he?

[teapartyprincess4two]

On Stream- M. Sturniolo

pairing: gf!reader x bf!Matt

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, short, slight cursing, some suggestive comments

summary: Matt mentions you on stream, causing the chat to go crazy.

—

Nowadays it seems that Matt and Chris have an abnormal amount of free time.

The pair have spent the past few days running errands, catching up on chores, spending quality time together, and unwinding. But two energetic young men can only do so much relaxing before it becomes unbearably boring, especially without you and Nick around.

Nick’s somewhere across the globe, relishing in the perks of having good friends. He’s experiencing the world with a sense of individuality, having been apart from his triplet brothers for over a week.

Without Nick around the house is quiet and boring enough, but Chris and Matt can usually count on you to keep them company. But it seems that they see you less and less every day.

You aren’t somewhere far away, not physically at least, you’re just very, very busy. As you enter the fall semester, you’re juggling a multitude of responsibilities including school, work, your social life, and your relationship. But as you adjust to your crazy hectic schedule, you spend less time at home with Matt and more time nose deep in a book.

So, just as the brothers grow accustomed to the eerie silence that haunts the halls of their home and the boredom that settles into their everyday lives, they decide enough is enough and take up a new hobby. Streaming.

Today, as Matt anchors himself in his rolling chair, his eyes skim through the endless chats that flood his screen. Chris sits next to him, a vibrant and excited smile adorning his features.

This is their third consecutive day going live on Twitch. At first they went live to entertain and chat with their fans, but now they’re doing it to occupy their bored minds.

Chris’s eyes skim the chat, fixating on one message in particular. He subconsciously reads it aloud, “Is Y/n on tour with Nick? We miss her.”

After reading the comment, the chat was flooded with similar messages asking for you. Matt slumps into his chair, the mention of your name reminding him that it’s been a week since he’s seen you.

“Nah, she’s just busy with school right now,” Chris replies mindlessly, skimming for another comment to read.

A lot of the viewers noticed Matt’s mood shift. They noticed the way his eyes drooped and the way the corners of his mouth turned into a frown. They especially noticed the disassociated look he wore, mind traveling to a place only you could bring him out of.

“Matt,” Chris says, waving a hand in front of his brother’s face. No response. “Matt!” He tries again, louder this time. Matt still doesn’t respond, only coming back into reality when Chris violently shakes his shoulders.

“What, dude? What?!” Matt asks, annoyance evident in his tone.

“Your phone’s ringing.” Chris replies with an eye roll and a small scoff.

Suddenly the blaring ring registers in Matt’s mind as he pats his pockets in search of his phone. When he finally finds it, your name illuminated the screen.

“Who’s calling?” Chris asks, stretching out his neck in hopes of catching a nosy glimpse at the caller ID.

“Umm be right back chat. Y/n’s calling,” Matt says, words spewing out a mile a minute. He disappears from the room faster than ever, immediately pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is music to Matt’s ears. It feels like forever since he’s last heard it.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “everything okay?”

You hum in response, followed by a soft yawn.

“You sound tired. When are you coming home?” Matt asks, softly leaning against the wall. You’ve been at school all day stuck in lectures and studying, so Matt knows you need some well deserved rest.

“I’m on my way now. That’s why I called, wanted to see if you guys were hungry so I could pick up something to eat.”

The excitement that courses through Matt’s veins is unreal, winding him up with enough energy to last until tomorrow. He can’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you, and make up for all the lost time.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he replies, pausing for a second to compose himself, “I just wanna see you.”

A warm smile graces your features and if Matt could see it he’d mirror your expression.

“I’ll be home soon don’t worry. How’s the stream going?”

“Huh?” For a second Matt forgot that he and his brother were live streaming for thousands of people.

“The stream. Aren’t you live with Chris right now?”

“Ohhh. It’s going… it’s going good.” Matt replies with a soft sigh.

Your smile is momentarily replaced with a frown. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going good. What’s wrong?”

Matt’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose before gliding across his eyelids and massaging the tense nerves and muscles on his face. “It’s going fine. I just can’t focus. The chat keeps asking about you and it’s honestly making me really sad.”

A small chuckle escapes your lips. “Aww my poor baby. Can’t focus on Fortnite?”

“Not Fortnite.”

“Oops, sorry. Fall Guys?

“Y/n.” Matt warns, though he finds it slightly funny too.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. I’ll be home soon with some good food and open arms. We can cuddle and watch a movie, or do anything else you wanna do. Okay?”

Matt feels his spirit lighten up again, a cheeky smirk forming on his face. “Anything?”

“Don’t push it,” you laugh.

Just as Matt’s about to respond, he’s cut short by Chris calling his name from inside the room.

“Get back to your stream. I’ll be home soon, handsome.”

Matt’s lips form a silly pout you can’t even see as he replies, “But I wanna keep talking to you. Miss you so much.”

“MATT!” Chris calls again, this time much louder than the last.

“We’ll talk all you want when I get home. Now go! I have the stream pulled up on my computer and I think Chris is gonna start twerking,” you say, trying your best not to laugh.

“Holy fuck this kid,” Matt groans, face palming. “Alright baby, I love you. Drive safe.”

“I love you too,” you say through small giggles before hanging up.

When Matt renters the room, he’s not surprised to find Chris dancing for the camera. He pushes past him and settles back into his rolling chair wearing a huge, toothy smile.

“What did Y/n want?” Chris asks, briefly glancing at Matt as he switches from doing the griddy to shuffling across the room.

“Just asked if we were hungry,” Matt shrugs, attempting to act nonchalant, but there’s no hiding the newfound pep in his step.

“And it took you that long?”

“I was catching up with my girl. —Why the fuck are you still dancing?”

“Someone gifted,” Chris says, slightly breathless as he bops from corner to corner.

“Alright…” Matt shifts towards the computer, “What did I miss?”

He reads comments, expecting most of them to be about Chris and his absurd dancing skills, but he’s surprised to find that they’re all about you.

Some fans ask where you are, others ask what you’re doing, some speculate on the conversation you and Matt had, and others simply comment on how much happier Matt seems since talking to you.

All Matt can do is smile and patiently wait for you to arrive, ready to bombard you with kisses as soon as you step through the door.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: hi babies! Hope you enjoy this short oneshot! I know I haven’t updated or posted much in a longggg time but I honestly had writers block :P I’m trying to get into the habit of writing again, so bear with me pls. I have a lotttt of drafts (some that just need to be edited) so be expecting that soon! Luv you all 😚

- L.A.M.B🪽💝

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @rxeae @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow @sturnstvr @inkyray-deactivated20240729 @stasiesturn @poopiepantsworld @cvnt4matty @eleanore2204 @jhutchismyl0verb0y

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[somnoir]

As a prompt Danny after he enters Gotham for any suddenly starts growing again for the first time since the portal incident and his body instead of slowly again decides to catch up all the missing years of growing at once so Danny goes from still looking 14 to suddenly having his father's height and looking his actual age.

Growing pains.... Literally

Since his death, Danny hasn't really... Grown. His parents think he's a late bloomer, that he'll grow later in life. But it's been four years since he's died and he hasn't grown a single inch in that time.

Frostbite is kind enough to tell me that... Well... He's stuck.

He's stuck in this form until something affects his physical form. Amity, even though it's considered the most haunted place in earth, doesn't have enough ambient ectoplasm for Danny. There are too many ghosts from the realm that feed of it, too many nevermores that need it to exist. Amity feeds it's ghosts but it doesn't have enough for a halfa like him.

When he moved to Gotham for the aerospace program (plus the scholarship) he doesn't expect much from it. People still question him about his age, it almost ends with him flinging his ID and birth certificate on people and cussing them out on his height.

He had even started exploring the city. There was this one cafe he found and the owner, Lily, was an absolute angel! With a shotgun. And he met a lot of people in Lily's Eden Cafe, like this weird kid that apparently dropped out of high school. Now, Danny ain't one to judge, so he's pretty okay with Tim. Except for the fact that he was so cool and smooth on a skateboard. Danny wanted one too.

Almost a week after moving, he's suffering. His body hurts, everything aches. It's as if something inside of him was trying to break out and it's making his bones strain. Everything about it hurts.

Many days passed of Danny being delirious from the pain, barely able to register what he was doing. A week and it's like he spent a coma walking around while his consciousness was asleep, practically dead by the lack of his memories.

The next time he woke up, it's been a week since he blacked out from the pain.

There's music in the background, almost familiar. The beat is something he heard Ember compose before his eighteenth birthday, then it was practically blasted through our the Ghost Zone when the day actually came.

"Shhh! Turn that racket down!"

"Hell nah! He likes it, see?"

"The little king seems.... To......change... Gotham..."

His eyes snapped open, gasping when he saw multiple pairs of eyes looking down at him.

"He's alive!"

Danny's instincts took over in that second and he's sending a blast of ecto towards the sudden scream. More screaming. Too much screaming. His head hurt.

"Holy shit, baby pop!"

He takes a moment before he's recognizing Ember... And the hole on his wall... And his glowing hand. Shit.

"Woah, woah! Calm down."

In Danny's confused state, he could barely register Kitty and Johnny in the room. Oh, and Shadow too. But still...

"I— What happened?" He groaned, blinking slowly. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His voice... OH MY GOD HIS VOICE! Why was it so deep?! What was wrong with his voice? Did he have a cold or something? Or maybe it's just his morning voice—

"Congrats on your dawning!" Johnny congratulated, grinning like a madman.

"What?" ooh, that was weird, "What the heck is an dawning?"

"Ooh, baby pop!" Ember cooed, "Forgot that our little king is still pretty new to being all ghost. C'mon now, baby. Mama Ember will teach you all about ghost puberty."

"GHOST WHAT?!"

Ghost puberty was a thing apparently. He had hauled himself into the Far Frozen after yelling at the four ghosts to steal him some clothes that would actually fit him. Because his entire body felt wrong... So wrong.

He was taller now. Having shot up from 5'4" to a whopping 6'2". Everything still hurt and now all his clothes didn't even fit! Nothing looked right when he'd looked at the mirror. He was almost as tall a shis dad now—he looked almost exactly like his dad now actually. It was almost terrifying how much he resembled his dad. If he went to visit now, he's sure that his mother would have a heart attack from how quickly he had grown.

"Frostbite!" Danny practically growled and oooh... Yeah, now it sounded differently to whenever he'd end up snarling. The deepness of his voice almost intimidated him.

"Great one!" The yeti greeted, looking utterly ecstatic to see him. "Ah, I see you've finished your dawning. I offer my sincerest congrats, your majesty."

"Yeah, yeah. The fuck is a Dawning?"

Frostbite blinked, before his expression morphed into a grim one. "Oh dear... I had thought that the Observants would have deigned to explain this too you upon your coronation... Well, let us sit then, great one. This will be a long one."

To summarize it all, Ghost puberty.

A Dawning was a time every ghost went through, so long as there was enough ambient ectoplasm around them to help their forms morph into their preferred appearances. Usually, a ghosts appearance to their own mentality. Their maturity.

Apparently, Young Blood already went through a Dawning but remained in his child-like form due to his own mental age. He was a child in heart, mind, soul, and body.

Meanwhile... Danny who was still alive yet also dead, had followed on with his mental maturity. His body morphed, it changed, it adapted to how he saw himself, how he desperately wanted to become deep down in his core.

And this Danny Fenton was a 6'2" giant trying to control all his limbs that were suddenly too long, too heavy. Everything felt strange....

Tim Drake's favorite cafe was known for being neutral ground for both rogues and vigilantes. You don't fuck around Lilian's cafe or else she'll pull out a rifle and shoot you dead. So if course, Tim fucking loved the place.

Actually, many people frequented it.

He's familiarised himself with the faces of a lot of people by then. Even that scrawny new kid that arrived three weeks ago. Tim remembers Danny for how enthusiastic he was about going to collage, not even minding the madness of Gotham itself. It was like he thrived in it.

He waves at Lilian after ordering his usual, taking a seat in the corner before he's whipping out his laptop. Duke and Steph arrive soon after, immediately ordering before going off to join Tim.

Mundane things, something they all seemed to appreciate more.

The bell rings, more customers arrive and—

"Danny! Holy hell, what happened?"

Tim paused, immediately snapping his eyes towards— WHAT THE FUCK?!

Steph whistled, "Hot damn..."

Danny Fenton was a scrawny young man, shorter than Tim. Even more slim.

But whoever the hell entered the cafe was 6'2", almost as muscled as Jason, and slouching like Clark—as if he was in the wrong body. He almost dropped his drink if not for Duke gently guiding his hand down.

"Hey, Lils..."

God, what the fuck was that? What was happening? Who the hell was this awkward adonis with a voice as deep as the fucking ocean?

"Tim?" Duke waved his hand over his eyes, "Timothy? Timbers?"

"Duke, leave him alone. He's gone, never coming back." Steph snickered, shaking her head before her eyes went back to Danny, who was stuttering as he tried to order what he wanted. "But damn if I wouldn't act the same. Shoot your shot—"

Shoot his fucking shot he did.

"Hey Danny..." Tim slid up to him with a smile.

Danny blinked—woah was he tall and practically built like a fucking fridge—before his eyes brightened and a smile joined his expression.

"Hi Tim!"

Was this how Bruce felt like when he saw Clark?

Masterpost

[funlovinzara]

“Speechless” Turbo!ken and Okarun x reader

I didn’t know id cause so much trouble, but in the end i met someone who touched my heart…i don’t know if I’ll ever be able to love him.

Warnings: none really

A/n: im back divas 💜 IM SICK AGAIN

______

Okay, lets not start off with “im just a normal person, who attends a totally normal school.” Because its stupid and dumb and i really really just want to explain this whole situation. This school is weird. Ive been experiencing some supernatural things happening to me and i dont feel safe wherever i go and i think something bad might hurt me. I walk home after school one day and i notice the air getting thicker and thicker and i just feel the tense pressure of something following me

I rush home and all i can do is ponder about whats going on with me, am i mental?? Is this some of condition?? Im having nightmares and i cant take it anymore. I cant even talk to anyone about this because i hardly talk to people at this stubborn school…

Besides all the crazy things happening to me, theres this guy I’ve had my eye on, not romantically or anything i just keep seeing him wherever i go and he just sticks out like a sore thumb. I think his name was Ken….im going to talk to him, he seems like the only person who wouldn’t judge me.

I walk up to him and before i could even mutter a “hey” a girl comes first and speaks to him, it seems like they’re close. Suddenly everyone must have a friend besides me, thats so annoying. I’ll speak to him at lunch then. And as i expected, that girl was there again. So i guess i’ll just speak to him afterschool.

“Hey..” i tap his shoulder while walking out the gate of the school. He swiftly turns around looking at me in surprise and quickly blushing. “O..oh hello!”

“I wanted to know if you’d like to be friends…you look really cool and i thought it would be nice.” His face flushes even more “Cool..? Me? Oh- yeah s-sure we can be friends thats totally awesome! Yup! Cool!” He was geeking out, and it was really cute

“Can w-“ before i could speak again he cuts me off. “How about we talk together at lunch tomorrow or if we have the same class..? Its s-super nice to meet you. Im Ken takakura!”

“Oh im y/n l/n, sure we can talk tomorrow” he bows and runs off home, i mean at least i’ll be able to actually talk to him. I start to walk home and the sun starts to set, i really don’t want that feeling to come back again. But it’s not my choice is it..

While i walk home i start to feel it again, the feeling that im being watched. But no it’s way worse this time. My ears start to ring, and i hear footsteps slowly pick up behind me. I start to run home, it wasn’t far anyway, i could make it! I run into a neighborhood I’ve never seen before, but I’ll do anything just to get away.

A blue light appears above my head and i turn around to see 3 large men with a horrifying smile standing behind me. I turn again to sprint for it until they catch me in a millisecond. “What a fine specimen!!! We shall take your banana for inspection.”

“What the heck does that even mean??? Let me go!!” I hear another pair of footsteps and i see..Ken? And that other girl..

“Get em okarun!!” The girl exclaims, and before my own eyes i see okarun leap forward to one of the men holding me, transforming into something so unknown. The aliens are caught off guard and unhand me while i see that other running behind us, a big set of translucent blue arms emerge from her back and grabs on hold on one of the men and slams him.

“Okarun!! Take the girl somewhere else!! I’ll be safe i promise!” This new…person that is ‘okarun’ sighs in laziness “such a drag..” he picks me up bridal style and starts to speed away into a secluded area where the strange men were sure not to search. He lays me down on the concrete floor and i think i recognize this area, this is a part of my neighborhood thankfully!!

I look up at him in disbelief, “your…ken..?” He was prepping to sprint back to where the other girl was but he looks at me instead “in the flesh.” What was up with his lingo..

“..how are you able to do that?” It’s absolutely incredible, i was totally mesmerized, he’s beautiful! “Dunno, i gotta go. Stay safe babe.” He pats my head and then gets into a crouching start position to run, he sprints off and into the night he goes. What just happened, and he called me babe? How am i going to even talk to him tomorrow??

It takes me a minute to get back up and into shape, i make my way back home and i was later than usual. I make myself comfy, shower and change, and hop right into bed. I shut my eyes and start to recap.

‘Alright, what the hell was going on today. Ken is some secret transforming boy, and i guess his nickname is okarun? This other girl has magical powers and i almost got kidnapped by some disgustingly terrifying ‘men’. Based on what I’ve seen today, were those even men?? Im speechless..’ I continue to yap on in my head until i drift off into slumber.

—

I wake up the next morning trying to figure out if i should just stay home today, but then again i need answers. I quickly hop out of bed and get myself ready while having something small to eat for breakfast. I make my way to campus and i see Ken and that girl again, i really need to get her name..

“Hey Takakura.” While he was speaking to that girl he turns around to look at me, she gives me a glance and her face brightens, it seems like she recognizes me. “Hey y/n, is everything alright?”

“Um yeah no, what even happened last night?? That was totally insane! Do you guys know what was going on it freaked me out, and you turned into some creature and that girl had big arms coming out of her back-“

The girl giggles and cuts me off “okay i know it’s crazy, and I’m momo! What you saw yesterday wasn’t normal i know, it’s a long story. But those men you saw were aliens, thats why they looked so weird. Okarun here has this new ability to transform into something completely new, i have psychic powers.”

My face must have been absolutely confuzzled because they both started to giggle “Don’t worry, we’ll talk more about it at lunch! By the way whats your name?”

“It’s y/n l/n, nice to meet you.” She smiles and rests her arm on my shoulder “Sweet! Cmon okarun, let’s head to class!”

He follows right behind us and my smile fades a bit, that person okarun was…i can feel my heart start to strain. This isn’t good, i think i might like him but every-time i see Okarun and Momo together, they just seem like an unbreakable bond that stays together forever and i might be tinkering and getting in the way of that. I want to go home already.

“Hey y/n, matter of fact how about you come to my place after school? Then we can totally go over everything you’re confused about.”

“Oh, yeah sure! I don’t mind.” They day goes on as it fades into the mist of night. Her house is more larger than i thought, i enter and it has this calming feel to it. I spot Ken taking off his shoes and my hear starts to race a bit, this is making me insane. “Alright Okarun, show em!” I watch him transform again and i see that boy…wow he is so alluring. His droopy sleep eyes and tall slim frame would have anyone at campus falling head over heels

“So this is what you saw yesterday, this form is when he blah blah blah blah…”

I really should have payed attention but i was lost in his thoughtless eyes, and he was staring right back at me. I wonder does this form have the same mind as Okarun or is it someone else? While momo continues to talk, without her noticing he nods his head up at me in a “sup” motion, with his hands in his pockets. He was trying so hard to be cool and he really was. I feel my brain melt to my toes as i nod my head back at him.

“So do you understand?”

I snap back into reality, “Yeah..so what can he really do?”

“Well he can only run really fast, he has no good fighting skills yet.” “Wow, harsh.” He said while leaning back on the wall. Momo takes out her phone and looks at the time, she jumps and shrieks “its really late! Hey how about this, you can come over again tomorrow and we can go over how you’re able to see things like this. Okarun since it’s dark outside and you’re a fast runner, take em home!”

“whatevs, I’m the fastest yo.”

We head out the door and he lets me get on his back. “later y/n!”

Ken gets into the crouching start position again and speeds to my neighborhood “quick, where do ya live” I whisper my home into his ear and he quickens the pace all the way until the destination. He slows and gets down, allowing me to step off his back. I was hesitant to walk into my home and i turn around right before he was going to speed back to momos place.

“Cya on the flip side babe.” Seriously does he call everyone babe…but then i realized he was leaving and as he took off i managed to shout “See you tomorrow!!” I see him wave his hand in the air while he ran, this wasn’t so bad. I lay back in my bed ready to disclose for the night, this is crazy.

Will he be someone i can love or am i just going to be a nuisance..?

—

GUYS I JUST finished watching dandadan please i had to write something y’all idk it set something off in me for real!! bye DIVAS 💜

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗

Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff

Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol

You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.

Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.

But now it’s starting to get tricky.

It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.

“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.

“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”

Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.

“I’m fine.”

That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.

Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”

Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.

“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.

“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”

“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.

For now.

“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.

“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.

You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-

Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-

“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, I get it now.”

Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.

“No, you don’t.”

But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.

“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.

“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”

Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”

“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.

You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.

“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.

“Who is it? Do we know them?”

Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.

But you know it’s only a matter of time.

“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”

“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.

“True,” Nobara agrees,

“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”

Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.

“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.

“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.

“You guys are gross.”

Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.

“What? No! It’s not that one!”

“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”

“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.

Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.

“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”

Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”

“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.

Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.

“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.

You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.

“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.

“And last weekend, too?”

Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.

“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.

Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”

“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.

Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.

“Yeah, maybe.”

But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”

“Nobara,” you interrupt,

“you’re overthinking it.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.

“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”

Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.

“We think he’s got a crush.”

Gojo pauses, grin widening.

 “Oh, is that so?”

You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?

His smirk deepens.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I wonder who it could be.”

You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.

But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.

“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.

Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.

“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.

Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”

He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.

Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.

“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.

Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.

You know who it is. He knows you know.

You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.

But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.

“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.

“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.

“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”

Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.

“Definitely.”

You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.

Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?

This is going to get much harder to hide.

Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

You smile softly, leaning into his side.

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”

Megumi groans.

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.

Still, you can’t help but tease him.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.

“Shut up.”

You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.

Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.

“But not yet.”

You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.

And for now, that’s enough.

Bonus:

The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.

It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.

You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?

By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.

You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.

“Okay, I’m done!”

Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”

Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”

Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.

You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.

“Your call.”

With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.

“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ll tell you.”

Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.

“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.

“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.

Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.

Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.

At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.

Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.

“YOU—YOU AND—”

Megumi sighs.

“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.

“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”

Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.

“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.

“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.

“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”

You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.

“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”

“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”

Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.

“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.

“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”

You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.

“What?” Nobara screeches again.

“YOU KNEW?!”

Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Gojo tilts his head, grinning.

“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”

Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.

“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”

Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.

“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”

Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.

“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”

“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.

Nobara glares at him.

“It was not an accident.”

Tags:

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@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

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@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

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@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

[nfr-girly]

Baking with Hasan // 🧁 🍰

Summary: Hasan invites you over for a baking stream

————————————————————————

-Hasan had the idea for a while to do a baking stream with one of his friends, he had already done one with QT so he wanted to do it with someone who chat wasn’t familiar with

-that’s when you came into mind, chat knew a little about you from seeing you in the background of some vlogs, but you’d never actually done a stream with Hasan before

-you and him met through Austin and have been really good friends since. Hasan was a little hesitant as he knows you’ve never actually been on stream before, so he wanted to ask you first before confirming anything

-he called you up and asked if you’d want to do a baking stream with him, which of course you said yes to

-Hasan didn’t know it but you had grown to like him as more than just a friend, on occasion you would think for a second that he might like you back, but every time you saw him with these gorgeous models you always give your hopes up

-LITTLE DID U KNOWWW… Hasan kinda likes you back <3 anyway 😋

-you guys call a few days before the stream to confirm times and everything, making sure you both have ingredients ready, you tell him you’re a little nervous about the stream and he reassures you that if you don’t want to do it, please tell him, but he makes sure you know he won’t let anyone be mean to you for even a second

-Hasan is so so serious about this too, he absolutely adores you and if he sees ANYONE be even the tiniest bit disrespectful to you trust he’ll be ready to throw hands

-a few days later you go over to his house and ring the bell, fidgeting with your hands and sorting out your hair

-Hasan hears the bell and all confidence drops. Kayas already at the door before he even comes out the kitchen. He sorts out his hair before opening the door.

-you look up and smile “hey! How are you”

-Hasan smiles back “I’m really good thanks. How are you? Was the journey okay?” Hasan lets you in and hangs up your coat for you, you kneel and pet Kaya as she hops into your lap

-one of Hasans favourite things is seeing you bond so well with Kaya, it’s partly why he likes you so much, you’re the only person who Kaya didn’t bark at when she first met you, it was like she had known you for years

-you two went into the kitchen and set up all your ingredients, talking a little about how you’ve both been

-“you know I’m actually gonna stomp all over you today; my cakes are superior” Hasan boasts

-“shut the fuck up you don’t know shit about baking”

-“yes I do!!” Hasan defends back

-the stream starts and for the next few hours the entirety of the stream consists of you and him blatantly flirting (trust there’s gonna be compilations on yt of you two)

-the whole chat can see through both of you and are so baffled at how blind you are to the other ones feelings

-eventually, you end the stream and start cleaning the kitchen, it takes you two about an hour due to the mess

-Hasan occasionally puts his hands on your waist as he moves past you

“thank you for coming over to do this, I mean really I appreciate it” Hasan tells you

“Of course no worries, it was fun we should do it again sometime”

Hasan pauses and thinks. Just ask her out already what are you doing?

“Hey listen I was just wondering- i don’t know, if maybe you wanted to go out sometime?”

You look at him as your breath catches in your throat

“Uh- yeah sure, is it just us or with some friends?” Please say just us

“Well I mean I was thinking just us. Unless you think that would be weird-“

“No- Hasan id love that” you smile at him as he nods, smiling himself

“Okay great, would Tuesday work for you?”

“I can check but it should be yeah!”

You two talk as he walks you to the door

“Okay then, well I’ll text you later about places we could go” Hasan says

“Okay then. It’s a date”

Hasan smiles quickly before you can see

He gives you a hug as you head to your car.

As soon as you drive away he smiles to himself and goes to find Kaya, who jumps up at him

“Hey pretty ladyy, she said yes didn’t she? Oh yes she did”

A ping can be heard from Hasans phone, he takes it out and reads it

You

Sooo where should we go? 💗

hasan types out a reply

Hasan

Anywhere you want princess.

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UGH THIS IS SO SHIT but I hope you liked it anyway 😘

🏷️ @mavericksice @thatsactuallyinzane @kaya-p @fullofgutsndopamine @inhibitionfreewriting @the-phantom-author @makeandshift @hot-insurrectionist @hasblair

[chrissdollie]

rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs

a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3

SFW

chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((

i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever

he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)

sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c

but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.

out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!

when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.

you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off

one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.

you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".

for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3

imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.

you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"

you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!

u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal

but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody

chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((

NSFW

speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.

chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.

"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"

in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate

chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u

watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.

he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths

chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht

[luveline]

id love a fic of aaron hotchner with a reader who struggles with feeling interesting or desirable!! i love your work sm you're lovely!!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

The table grain is flaking off under your nail. Oh, ew, you think, lips turning down into a frown. You pick at your nail, wonder if that’s disgusting, and hide your hands under the table rather than continue to scratch it apart. 

The team are talking about their weekend plans. You’re not super hungry and these conversations tend to put you off either way; faced with the smallness of your own life outside of them, you waver in a tepid mix of jealousy and insecurity. There’s no point offering your plans. Compared to them, it’ll sound strange. 

Morgan’s buying a house. Reid’s going to a University for a private seminar given by one of the country’s leading geneticists. Hotch will be spending the weekend with his family, hopefully teaching Jack how to swim. It goes on and on and on. They all have interests and people and things to do, and you’ll be tucking yourself into bed to try and forget you don’t. 

Hotch glances at you again, the fourth time in as many minutes. You decide to pretend you’ve only noticed this time rather than having felt every look, turning your face subtly to his. 

You okay? he asks without speaking, his eyebrows raised a touch, his gaze searching. 

You smile easily. You’re practised in this. 

He reaches under the table for your thigh. Your breath catches, your face squared into hopeless unaffectedness as he rubs your knee. Things with him are achingly new, months and months of wanting and now weeks of getting to have it, but perhaps that’s why you’re feeling your inadequacy so harshly. Why does he want to touch you? Forget interesting, you aren’t interesting, and you certainly aren’t pretty. 

He gives your knee a gentle shake as he rubs your leg through your pants, as though saying, I’m here, or even cheer up.  

You smile down at your plate. I’m fine. 

“Time to turn in,” Hotch says, dropping his napkin onto his plate. 

Your head snaps up to look at him, worried you’ve pissed him off and missing the heat of his hand, but he’s holding his hand out toward you in such a way that you read him. Come with me.

“Me too,” you say. “I’m tired.” 

You’re not even halfway down the hall out of the hotel restaurant when he’s grabbing you from behind, a huge hug that surprises you into loud, loud laughter. “Hotch–”

“Try again.” 

“Aaron,” —he walks you a few dragging steps to an alcove, where he turns you, holding your waist— “this is brute force!” You laugh. 

“This is concern. What’s wrong?” 

He’s trying to be the cheerful one. It’s working, some, but it adds another layer to your self-doubt; your grumpy, sweetheart boyfriend is never not smiling when he’s alone with you. It doesn’t make any sense. 

“Nothing,” you say, laughing again as he squeezes your hip meanly. “It’s brute force!” 

“You’re a liar,” he says, leaning down to kiss your jaw. “My liar, but a liar. A bad one, considering.” 

“Yes, well, all the teasing is making it better, so thanks.” 

He kisses under your jaw. He feels encompassingly tall, and his affection makes you feel better no matter how much you’d wanted to be sullen. You lean heavily against the wall and let him kiss you, your hand coming up to his hair, fingers raking through the soft crop of inky hair at his neck. “You’re sulking,” he says between kisses, shivers at your back from his eager touching. 

“I’m boring.” 

“Where might you get that idea?” 

“I have nothing to do this weekend. When we get home, I have nothing to do but lie in bed.” 

“I wish that was my weekend.” He peels back. He doesn’t hold your face, but the way he looks at you has the same effect. So strange how he can make you feel cared for in such a simple action. “You can always come with me, hm? We’ll have the weekend together. Jack won’t mind.” 

“Thank you… it’s a nice offer.” You’ll take it. 

“But not the problem.” He’s standing close enough to get you in trouble should a teammate come from the restaurant after you. Still, he stays close, the very tips of his fingers pushing against the hem of your shirt to touch the naked small of your back. “Will you come over?” he asks in a murmur. 

“I’d love to,” you say honestly. “I just wish I was more interesting.” 

Your confession makes him frown. “In what world aren’t you?”

“This one.” 

“That’s not true. You’re interesting, you’re so smart. You’re lovely.” 

You turn your face from him, heart beating a sudden pitter patter. He turns you right back to him with a finger to your chin. 

“You’re everything,” he says. 

“But I feel so… nothing.” 

His frown intensifies. “How long have you been feeling like this, honey? You could’ve told me. I wish you’d told me, because–” He pinches your chin gently, encouraging you to meet his eyes, “I would’ve told you a long time ago that you’re not nothing, you couldn’t be. It’s easy to feel like you don’t know what you’re doing, at your age–”

“Careful.” 

“It’s true. You think you’re so old, but you have time.” 

“I’m not old,” you acquiesce. 

His hand moves to your cheek. “But you have so many frown lines.” 

“Alright, I’ve had enough of you, Hotchner. We’re done.” 

He raises his other hand to hold your face completely. “You are so, so amazing. You just need to recognise it in yourself.” 

You wait for him to kiss you, and then realise what he’s doing. “Maybe I'm amazing,” you say shyly. 

He kisses you on the lips, gentle, as though you were easily breakable. A little rougher when you smile, and rougher again when you touch his chest. “We’ll get caught,” he says, planting another quick one on you before pulling away. “Come on. Let’s get a head start on the weekend.” 

“We’ll definitely get caught,” you say. Sharing a room is always a stupid idea. 

“And what a shame it’ll be,” he says, taking your hand to rub your fingers affectionately as he leads you toward the elevators.