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mv1simp · 5 months ago

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Often ♥️

Mafia!Max Verstappen x Reader

she asked me if I do this everyday, I said often (asked her how many times she rode the wave, not so often)

You’re a hard working, intelligent medical student - at the top of her class. Desperate to pay off your debts, you end up bartending in Monaco’s most exclusive nightclub….and catch the eye of the mafia boss who runs half the city, Max Verstappen. And now that he’s found you, he’s never letting you go.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, dom/sub themes, dark mafia!max, innocent student! reader tryna pay her bills, sugar daddy vibes, BDSM, WC 5.6k

It had truly meant to be a one time thing. You’d been strapped for cash, as per usual - stretching yourself thin with your overpriced rent in your tiny one bedroom apartment in a dodgy area, with your utility bills, your parent’s monthly mortgage payments. And of course, the costliest expense of all was your goddamn medical degree. You were in your final year, so close to the end that you could almost taste it.

Maybe that’s what made you say yes to one of the other tutors you work with at your university tutoring job, when she sees you at your second job later than evening tidying up at a local clinic, and then your third the next morning where you hand her a fresh iced coffee you’ve brewed. You know, she says in a hushed tone, leaning in rather conspiratorially. You’re going to work yourself to the bone, with three jobs and putting yourself through med school?

You wave her off with a practised cheerful smile, used to hiding your tiredness from your peers who all thought of you as a model student. But when she persisted, texting you the details of her mysterious cousin who worked at some bar downtown and earned one thousands dollars in a single night…you couldn’t help but being intrigued. You were cautious about it, of course, asking to meet the cousin - Layla - at the coffee shop you worked at. And when she told you about the VIP club, JimmyZ, that she worked at - nothing like those sleazy stripclubs downtown, she hastily reassured, seeing the nervous look on your face. No, JimmyZ was an exclusive club, only for the rich and elite who enjoyed throwing stacks of cash for bags of cocaine and exotic dancers. That’s what Layla called herself, but you still privately think it’s a glorified term for a stripper, as you watch her on stage from your corner in the bar with mixed feelings of awe at how sexy she looks, and discomfort from the sleazy gazes on her.

You’d somehow been talked into helping bartend for a night, Layla having mentioned that you were the perfect girl for the kind of men who came to JimmyZ. At your insulted expression, she giggled, saying that she was trying to saw you had an angelic, natural beauty about you, exactly the kind of authenticity the clientele liked to see instead of the more artificial look found at cheaper clubs. You looked at her skeptically, but still ended up lured in to try and make your rent that month. And after your first night, where you noted impressive amounts of security protecting the gorgeous dancing girls on stage, you felt yourself seduced by the offer of a single night at JimmyZ making up for an entire weeks of your previous job’s earning.

So before you knew it, you’d been working steadily for a couple of months now, finding yourself at a familiar ease behind the bar as you expertly poured drinks and humming the sensual music. You loved the job, with its high pay meaning you had time to focus on your studies again, and last month you’d even topped your class in one of your exams! Of course, it came with its risks - you worked well through the middle of busy weekend nights, many curious and lustful gazes on you from men who enjoyed the skimpy bartender uniform you had to wear. A tight, low cut white button up shirt that showed off your cleavage, and a miniskirt that came dangerously close to flashing someone when you bent over, paired with heeled knee high boots. It was certainly not the type of usual thing you wore, with your conservative full sleeve tops and flattering jeans with scuffed converse that you recycled constantly given your tight budget. But after some adjusting of your long curls hiding your cleavage and avoiding any eye contact skittishly with any man who looked at you too closely, you found yourself falling into an easy rhythm at work.

Until one evening, a Friday night before some big racing event in the city, meaning the club was even more packed that usual with clubgoers overflowing out the entrance and bass thumping down the street. Your boss had found you as you checked in for your late night shift, rapidly saying something about how the owner was visiting tonight and there weren't enough girls for the show, could you help out just this once-

Despite your adamant protests and squeaks that you absolutely could not, would not go on stage, you find yourself shoved into the backstage room to get ready, or risk losing your job permanently, your boss says meanly before storming off. Your lip trembles in anxiety, at the thought of someone recognising you tonight and then seeing you working as a doctor after your graduated. You'd lose your reputation before you could even start your career. You feel lost in the bright makeup room, surrounded by stunning, slim women who had their hair blown own perfectly and makeup done to perfection. You never imagined that you'd have to be up on stage with the beautiful dancers, who you looked so plain standing next too. A few toss you sympathetic looks but are too busy getting ready themselves to help you - until Layla enters and catches sight of your shaking form. She scowls when you tearfully tell her what the boss had said, but gives you a firm pep talk as she quickly helps you get ready. You've barely used any of the dozens of makeup products she has open on the counter, never having had any money to spend on nice clothes or jewellery to spoil yourself with.

But you feel yourself start to settle as she hands you a shot of tequila, then another for confidence, as she guides you through how to navigate the stage, how it was all about faking it till you make it!

You nod determinedly as she coaches you, before quickly getting change into a glittery strappy piece of fabric she hands you, with strappy heels to match. It takes you a few minutes to adjust to the height, but you find yourself being able to walk comfortably in them. When you come out from the side room to show Layla, the rest of the girls in the room stop in their tracks and look at you with renewed interest, yelling out whoops of encouragements about how hot you looked, girl! You flush with the praise, eyeing yourself in the mirror every few minutes as this pretty girl you didn't recognise stared at you. With lush, long curls styled messily, and wide, doe eyed eyes framed in smoky liner and glittery eyeshadow, and full, pouty glossed lips. And your body, which you'd been feeling so insecure about compared to the other dancers, looked undeniably sexy in a shimmery gold minidress that was so short it showed off the swell of your thick ass and chubby thighs invitingly. See, Layla says rather smugly as she comes up behind you. I told you, face of an angel with a body of a dancer. The audience is going to go feral for you.

And she was right, when an hour later and another practise session later, this time with the aid of the other dancers as they critiqued your form, you find yourself on one of the three stages the club had throughout its two levels. If there’s one thing you pride yourself on, it’s being a quick learner. You relax, letting yourself get lost in the music as a sensual song by The Weeknd croons over the speakers. The other girls had told you that dancing could also be fun, empowering, and make you feel in control - and you know understood what they meant as you sway your body enticingly on the stage, running your hands across your tits where your cleavage shows through the low neckline. At least in a club like JimmyZ, which had the reputation of luxury and class to uphold, the dancers wore skimpy outfits but never got fully naked like at a proper stripclub. You made full use of this small mercy, giving teasing flashes of your cleavage and ass but never actually taking your tiny glittery dress off. You could feel dozens of eyes fixed on every movement you made, every toss of your curls, every breathy sigh and bounce of your ass as you let yourself get lost in the beat.

But there's one set of piercing blue eyes that you keep finding your wide eyes returning to curiously. A man you’ve never seen before is seated in one of the VIP lounges a level above and directly in front of your elevated stage. He’s tall and muscular, with messy blonde hair and the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen. And to pull it off, he’s lounging comfortable on a leather sofa, well dressed in a fitted white shirt and jeans, his intense gaze roaming over your dancing body while everyone around him was standing up and hollering towards the dancers on the stage.

He looked like a lion amongst the pack of sheep, and you couldn’t help but bat your lashes in his direction just a bit more as a spark of attraction flutters within you. You've never felt so desirable in your life, and the rush it gives you is addictive. Your show is over before you know it, with enthused yells and demands for an Encore! from the frenzied crowd around your stage as clubgoers migrated to see your show instead of the two others. You giggle coyly, finding this new, confident side of yourself so much more fun than your usual run down, shy one. Stacks of paper notes have been tossed up on your stage and the bouncers dutifully collect it up to bring to you backstage. You blow a kiss into the air for the crowd, but your eyes don’t leave the gorgeous mystery man’s when you do so.

Afterwards, the other girls are laughing and excitedly hugging you backstage, oohing over the stacks of money you’d made and saying you needed to start dancing as a regular at the club, you’d instantly become a favourite! As you giggled their encouragement off, the mood suddenly soured when your boss strode in and said there’s been a request for a private show.

This was the darker, naughtier side of JimmyZ - only offered to the filthy rich VIP clients who could afford the outrageous hourly rate for the prized, beautiful dancers at the club. You’d walked past the closed VIP lounge doors before, your face turning red from the excited moans of male and female pleasure and lewd sounds. It was highly secret, of course, so you’d never known to much about what it fully involved. But you’d have to get to know it tonight, when your boss's finger points past everyone to land on you, to say the request is for our latest dancer, who’s been hiding how much of a natural she is!

Your quickly shake your head, saying you weren’t comfortable with anything more - but your boss says you might want to hear how much he's offering to pay, first. I turned him down, too, saying you weren't one of the regular dancers...but he's very certain he can make it worth your while. When you hear the figure being offered, specifically just for you, your jaw drops. It's enough to pay your shitty rent for two whole months.

You still feel uneasy, because dancing was one thing but to go to a private room was another, and you weren't sure how you felt about using your body for money. In the end, you find yourself curious to go, to get that addictive feeling of desirability and swayed by the security of the income. You’re fully in control, Layla reassures, there’s security in the room the whole time if the client gets touchy. You just have to undress a bit, down to your underwear and give them a show, maybe a lap dance or two. Nothing more than a quick handjob at most, she insists. Then, seeing your face go red as you stammer in response, she pauses to ask that you had done that before, right?

You nod your head quickly, saying yes, of course, I'm 23! You’re too embarrassed to tell her that even though you’re in college, you’ve barely had any sexual experiences and have never had a boyfriend. There was never any time with all the jobs you worked and your full time degree. You’ve had quick, forgettable and sloppy drunk hookups, with uncomfortable fingering that didn’t make you cum or half hearted handjobs at frat parties. You’ve never had sex before, but you know there’s no point freaking out about that now when you’re commited to getting paid tonight. Besides, it was just a quick lap dance probably on some middle aged divorced guy, right?

You can do this, you tell yourself internally, this was nothing compared to dancing in front of hundred of strangers. Maybe this month you’d finally be able to buy some nice dresses and heels to treat yourself with. It can feel good, too Layla had added as she helped you touch up your lip gloss. For your own pleasure, I mean. If you let it, she says with a wink. Remember, you're in control!

When you finally enter the VIP room that night, you're shocked at the man who awaits you. Because it was certainly no sleazy middle aged man. The gorgeous blue eyed blonde from earlier looks up from his conversation at you, his lips quirking up as he sees your golden minidress sparkle in the dim light. You’re too caught off guard to move, but once he dismissed the other men he was talking to with a tilt of his hand, he beckons you over. With a backwards glance to make sure the bouncer stands guard at the door, you take a seat on the comfortable sofa next to him.

It turns out the mystery man isn't just handsome, but friendly, and funny too, with an infectious laugh that makes your heart race. He introduced himself as Max, in a delicious low Dutch accent, and offers you a drink. You politely decline, not wanting to be too disinhibited, but he pours you a glass of expensive whiskey to match the one in his hand anyways. When he asks you for your name, you give him a fake one - but his eyes darken as he tells you he doesn’t think you’re telling him the truth. I’ll call you whatever I want, then, he hums. Schatje seems very fitting for an angel like you. I hope you don’t mind that I asked to see you personally tonight. But the way you danced, I was completely entranced. And then when I saw your pretty face, these big doe eyes...well, I knew I had to meet you. No matter the cost.

You flush under the compliment from such an attractive man, now comfortably sipping on your whiskey. You're the one who's meant to be pleasing him, but it seemed he was more focused on your pleasure. He relaxes you into a surprisingly easy conversation, making you laugh with funny stories about his two house cats. How cute, you say wistfully when he shows you his saved album on his phone. You miss the way his icy eyes hungrily glance down your tempting neckline as you admire the photos, taking advantage of the angle. The tension eases from your stiff form and soon you find yourself leaning in closer to the tall, muscular blonde.

You’re a very charming talker, Max, you say coyly, your newfound confidence emerging as your attraction for him grows. I think you’ve earned your reward. He smirks as you easily climb onto his broad lap, gasping slightly from the feeling of his strong, muscular thighs beneath your soft ones. Soon you’re performing your little routine, giggling and tossing your hair, running wandering hands over yourself, squeezing your juicy tits so they popped in your small hands and make Max’s gaze narrow with desire. Layla had been right. You did feel in complete control, and your pussy throbbed in interest at the gorgeous man whose lap you sat on.

He leans back to appreciate the view and you feel lust cloud your senses from the addicting feeling of those heated blue eyes on you, mixing with the heady feeling from the expensive whiskey he’d offered. And then his fingers are skimming your waist, sending electric sparks shooting from the lightest of touches. You’re not supposed to touch, Max you say with a teasing voice, your playful smile giving away how you really felt. When you untie your dress straps, letting it fall down your waist to show him your chest, barely covered in a see through lacy bra, he lets out a low groan. C’mon, schat, he murmurs huskily. I’m meant to see the prettiest tits in my life and not even kiss them?

You giggle again, running small hands down his shirt as you slowly unbutton him to reveal a muscular, broad chest. He smirks as he watches you bite your lip as your eyes wander all the way down to his blonde happy trail, where your curious fingers have now stopped. What’s the matter, baby, he teases a little twistedly, because he knows exactly what’s stopping you. Never done this before?

You flush, but shake your head adamantly and denying his claim. Of course I have, you say with a defiant look, the competitive nature rising up as you continue to unzip his jeans. He finds your determination so cute, how hard you’re trying to please him, but you give your innocence away with a sudden gasp when his erect cock jumps out of his boxers to rest against his lower abs. It’s so big, you say with a tinge of nerves in your voice at the sight of his drooling, angry red rip. He distracts you with soft kisses to your neck, your cheeks before pressing his lips gently to yours. You can’t resist him either, leaning back in to recapture him in a deeper kiss as you two begin sloppily making out. It’s starting to feel so good, the way his skilled tongue explores your willing mouth, that you eagerly nod when he murmurs he’ll show you how to make him feel good, yeah?

And when his large hand takes yours and presses it right in between his large, spread thighs, he captures your gasps with his lips. He guides your trembling hands over his huge cock, one hand encircling both your palms around him, whispering naughty things in your ear. There you go, sweetheart, right from the tip and then down to the base in a twist, just like that. When you get confident and cutely spit a small glob on his shaft to start pumping him more furiously, he praises you even more. Fuck, you’re a natural, just perfect for me.

You blush under the praise, and together you both watch his cock swell even more with your dedicated handjob. He can’t resist giving you a deep kiss again as he sees the concentrated expression on your face. Doing so good for me, babygirl, Max murmurs as he breaks away for a second, admiring your swollen lips and dazed eyes. Here, let me make you feel good too, hmm?

You squeal in shock as his lips latch right onto your already hard nipples. Ma-Max! No touching, remember! You try to remind him breathlessly. He swirls his tongue around your areolas, one hand still guiding you to jerk him off and his other expertly squeezing and massaging your heaving tits. You very quickly find yourself distracted from his rule break as he spoils your sensitive nipples with attention. So distracted that you stop your handjob, making him pull away again and you whine from the loss of his talented tongue. He resists smirking as you practically push your jiggling tits in his face, your doe eyes begging him for more. I didn’t say you could stop jerking me off, baby, he says in mock disapproval. If you’re not going to be a good girl then you’ll have to say sorry some other way.

You tilt your head in confusion at his statement, when his strong hand tangles into your pretty curls and gently but firmly pushes your head down. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s asking of you, and you stammer and try to weakly protest. It’s not that you aren’t into this; if anything, Max is the first guy you’ve ever felt such instant chemistry with. No - it’s that this feels so fast, too much too quick for your inexperience and self consciousness. You haven’t even processed just how far he’s planning on taking this and that technically you were selling yourself at some nightclub for his money. Besides, wasn’t there meant to be a guard here to stop the clients going too far? But when you quickly turn your head to look, Max’s hand relaxing briefly to let you peer around, you find yourself only becoming more anxious.

Because there’s no one else in the room.

Where did he go, you say, confused. I don’t understand, I thought he has to keep watch-Schatje, Max murmurs smoothly into your ear. I’m a possessive man. Did you really think I was going to let anyone else get a glimpse of what’s underneath your pretty dress? You gasp, heartbeat now fluttering rapidly from the confession that he’d been so taken with you with one look he wanted you all to himself. You’re half terrified of how much power this man seems to have, and half dizzy with pleasure that he finds you so desirable that he wants to stake his claim. He takes his time working you up again, running hands that were more like a lion’s large paws over your curves while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, asking if you were ready to be a good girl for him.

A thought plants in your head then, as you nod obediently, and he presses a kiss to your curls to lower your head into his lap again. That Max wasn’t the sweet, gorgeous guy next door type he looked to be. No, this was someone with serious power and money, who apparently controlled the ins and outs of the most luxurious nightclub in the city as if it was his own. And tonight, for whatever reason, he wanted you.

It was just one night, right? You let yourself relax and get lost in the unfamiliar pleasure as you reassure yourself.

This time, your glossy pink lips part easily as you leave curious kitten licks to his cockhead, taking in the salty taste of his precum. He immediately groaned, head tilting back against the sofa as he rasped at you to stop teasing.

You hum in response, sending vibrations through his shaft as you press wet kisses down it. You’re obediently following all the orders he gives to you as he strokes your hair almost gently, licking him up and down. When you finally take him into your mouth, he moans your name in approval, praising how good you were being. But you can barely take half of his length, already feeling your mouth stretch and struggling to breath. Let me take over, baby he says with a dark smirk, and within a second he’s lifted you up and deposited you on the floor, in between his spread legs. You’re trapped by muscular thighs as his grip tightens on you, and then he’s thrusting his hips right to the back of your throat. Fuck yes, there you go, just like that sweetheart, he encourages with a low groan, drowning out your high pitched whines with his jackhammering movements. Mmmh! Obscene, wet sounds of your mouth drooling all over him fills the air, as you choke on the largest cock you’d ever seen. You’re gripping onto him for dear life, your teary eyes making mascara run down your cheeks and only making him more turned on as he ruins your innocent, doe eyed look. And when he cums you don’t expect it, your mouth flooded with unfamiliar white cream that he covers your chubby, blushing cheeks and bouncing tits with as he pulls out mid release and makes a complete mess of your pretty makeup. Heavy pants fill the air as he comes down from his high, looking down at you with raw desire and approval. His thumb swipes his cum off your pouty lips and slides into your lips, smirking when you obediently suck on his finger. You wouldn’t have been able to tell it’s your first time, he teases.

After you clean yourself up in the private bathroom, too embarrassed to look at your positively debauched appearance in the mirror, you find Max signing a cheque that he folds in half that he discreetly leaves on the table. But before he leaves after apologising as he has business to attend to, bending down to your petite frame to give you a sweet kiss, he offers you a deal. To quit your job and be his private dancer, every night…and in turn he’d spoil you with whatever money or gifts your heart desired.

You decline, of course, telling him this was just a one time thing, you weren’t planning on dancing here ever again. He smirks, giving you a final appreciate once over, before declaring that was obvious, he wasn’t going to let another man see you dance like that again.

You don’t see him for a few weeks after that, and it’s almost as if that electric night had never happened at all. Things go back to normal and you resume your bartending job - although you notice that there is significantly more security hovering around your counter than before. But every night Max revisits you in your dreams, making you breathlessly moan from the memory of how good his tongue and hands felt on you, how they might feel inside you next time….you’d always wake up with damp panties.

And then one night everything changes, when a rowdy patron manages to get past the security guards and leer in your face. He remembers you from the dance show and when you try to move away he grabs onto your ass, telling you he wants another sexy performance, he demands with a pervy sneer, I know you secretly liked all the attention, like a slut.

The guards manage to get him off you but you’re shaken with how persistent the man had been. So shaken that you don’t realise the staff have pulled you into a side room until Max is in front of you, asking if you were okay with an intense gaze. He offers you his promise again, to provide for you and protect you - if you became his.

You’re annoyed with him, for just barging in and acting like you were some damsel. You hotly tell him that you're an independent girl, who wasn't going to let him have her in exchange for safety. I can take care of myself! He watched you walk off with a dark gaze, his blue eyes roaming your curves that he was desperate to get underneath him. And whatever Max Verstappen wanted, he always got.

The very next day chills run through your blood as the rowdy patron somehow turns up at your university campus. You quickly hide before he sees you, heart rate spiking as you realise he's found out who you are. Your pride melts away as you dial the number Max's men had put onto your phone despite your protests. Now, you're thankful that they did as a husky Dutch accent picks up. You're a mess on the call, crying and asking Max to please come and help-

I'm on my way, schatje. Go hide somewhere safe. After you hang up you realize you never told him where you were. But it doesn't matter, because the Dutch Lion is there within minutes, stepping out of a sleek black Aston Martin that looks like it costs more than all 5 years of your student debt. Your stalker doesn't stand a chance as he's pushed into a back alley easily by Max, who re-emerges a few moments later discreetly tucking what you're pretty sure is a handgun into his belt. You stare in stunned silence as he gestures to some men who have appeared to clean up whatever mess he left behind, before guiding you with a firm hand on your lower back into his luxurious car.

Still want to turn down what I can offer you, schatje? he murmurs lowly as he smoothly drives you home, his large hand resting on your thigh. And you realise that you don't, because for the first time in your life you don't have to fight tooth and nail to protect yourself. No - because Max had just proved he was willing to do that for you.

So you let yourself be worshipped, be cared for by him. And he knew how skittish you got, and started with baby steps - paying your phone bills, your groceries, and then your rent. Buying whatever handbag or necklace you would happen to briefly admire when walking past a shop, getting you a cute but outrageously expensive car so you stopped taking the train. And you can't lie about how good it feels to walk into class wearing diamond earrings and the Louboutin heels you'd always wanted, to have your mean classmates look at you in awe and envy.

And so when Max insisted that he couldn't let you stay at the dump you called a home any longer, that it was just unsafe for a sweet, precious thing like yourself - you barely resisted and moved into his spacious penthouse apartment. Truly, he gave you whatever you wanted, his toy that he spoils and lavishes however she likes - and at night, lets him climb into her bed to fuck however he wants. And oh, did he fuck you good. It became a habit for you to greet him after his late night meetings with a sweet kiss on the cheek and a gin on the rocks in your hand - which he would drink with you sitting on his lap, telling him animatedly about your day. And of course, he’d get to unwrap his present when he pulls off your silk nightie and widens his legs for you to kneel between them. Dressed in pretty pastel scraps of French lace you buy with his credit card, you’re dutifully slurping and kissing his thick, swollen cock and slapping it against your cheeks. You knew how much Max loved seeing his cum drip down your face and you’d make sure to wear extra eyeliner and lipgloss so he could enjoy the sight of you utterly ruined for him, stroking your mascara tear stained cheeks as you choke on his length. Such a fast learner, schatje Max chuckles at you, stroking your hair almost lovingly but the roughness of his thrusts anything but.

And most of all, you loved when Max would pick you up from class and casually announce that he was taking you away for the weekend. You’d been confused at first, stressed about the study time you were missing out on, but once you sit down in his private jet with you laptop and textbooks in hand you realise you’re truly going to be taken care of in every way. It’s impossible to resist the urge to give back the same to Max, to show him just how much affection you’ve started growing for him. So on those nights in some tropical island resort, with the breeze blowing in through open doors, you give him a free use pass. Whatever he wanted, however he wanted it - all weekend long. It’s to no surprise that you’re chained to the headboard within the hour, thighs tightly tied up around your waist so you’re spread open for him and he could see the wetness dripping through your lace thong. You’re whining, so embarrassed by how intently his heated gaze roams over your body that it’s a relief when he blindfolds you with his tie, and clips a collar around your neck with his initials gleaming from it. He teases you mercilessly, taking you right to the edge with his fingers or tongue but stopping just before you cum, until you’re screaming his name and begging him to fuck you already. And then he takes you for so many rounds that you’re crying for him to stop, it’s too much Maxie, you can’t cum a fourth time-

It’s safe to say you’ve grown into your place by Max’s side very well. You knew what others thought, from the jealous looks from your classmates when his Aston Martin rolls onto campus or the judgemental stares from other vacationers when you obediently sit in Max’s lap while he takes his business calls, dressed in a skimpy bikini and his collar that he absentmindedly traces before moving down to possessively curl his hand on your hip. But you couldn’t care less if they thought you were a trophy girlfriend or a sugar baby - because after all, he was the one wrapped around your pretty little finger, ready to wage a war if you so much as shed a tear.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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writingwisterias · 2 months ago

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To be kind

Leon Kennedy x AFAB! fem!Reader Role Reverse AU (Agent Reader x Civilian Leon) Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Baby Trapping, Heavy Breeding Kink, Angst, Nightmares, Postpartum depression mentions, Trauma, Fears of motherhood/pregnancy, Manhandling, Mating press (he's gotta make sure he gets it in there), creampie, Dom!Leon, Needy Leon, Dilf!Leon Words: 3.4k

Summary: All you have ever wanted is to be kind and look where that's got you. It's only fair now that Leon is kind enough to give you another baby to stop you from getting hurt. After all he just wants to keep you safe. For you ♥️ ILY

All you wanted to do in life was to give and be there for others in a way that people weren't there for you. Now you often find yourself whispering the words of comfort that you wished to hear from others for them. Encouraging the people in your life to achieve their dreams just as you wanted others to do for you. You desired to be kind, something that took more effort than being cruel and twisted like everything else in the world, it already had enough of that. You knew that your kindness is what led you on this path. Going from being a simple rookie trying to help out their future workplace to landing yourself in a dead end job with the highest level of responsibilities.

Holding many government ending secrets which plagued your mind like a curse; a back spot that you can never get rid of despite how hard you tried to wash it away. Those secrets held a reminder that you didn't deserve the privileges you gained from a quiet mouth and hard work. Especially not after the things you had done to get here, all the people you left behind in order to complete a mission. The same people that were brave enough to give up their life for you.

These were the same privileges that allowed you to create the perfect home life but you didn't get to live it, it wasn't for you. The universe wasn't kind enough for you to enjoy the large back garden or the summer breeze that drifted its way through the open windows. It was all for the man that lived in it and spent his spare time crafting it into the perfect home. You were just lucky. Lucky enough to have survived that night, to have survived anything you have been through and to be in the same lifetime to have met him. Leon, a partner sent from heaven. A regular boring cop with a heart of gold, who worked his way through the ranks just as you could have done. The shiny sheriff badge on his shoulder displays his achievements proudly.

He held a reflection on what your life should have been. Maybe in another timeline, you would have worked together and become the ideal couple working through the system and rank today. Partners in crime as you brought people to justice. Just like Batman and Robin as he always jokes. At least he knew your favourite hero and was willing to play the sidekick in your life. No questions asked despite the lingering bruises and scrapes you sported when you come home cloaked in a dark cape and tragic backstory.

Your nightmares were of a higher jurisdiction than he had access to, at least that you can be thankful of. He can't be plagued by the things you have seen. Leon worked hard at home to ensure you lived a dream, so that despite the endless missions the white picket fence was still an option for you. He didn't care about your responsibilities, about your devotion to the cause you fight for. How could he when you came home worse for wear every time? You killed and protected for this dream, he just didn't know it. Your responsibilities crushed it from flourishing without it even starting.

At least that's what you thought until the first set of pink lines happened. The distraction wasn't as welcome to you as it was to Leon, his hands splayed across your stomach with a large smile, his joy radiating off him for the rest of the day. Whilst your hands cradled it with dread, the worry and doubt filled your system early on as the bump formed. It was cute as his thumb would rub small circles over the skin like he was expecting a response this early.

You watched his behavior change as you got further along in the pregnancy, he made his demands for you to stay home vocal despite your love-hate relationship with the field. Your skill set was out there, not as a mother protecting a child from the monster under their bed. How could you lie to them and tell them it wasn't real when they were and you have seen them. You have the scars littering your skin as evidence of their existence as you fought against them. One across your heart, jagged and red, in response to the parasite a cult infected you with. A bullet wound now faded in its age, a reminder of your biggest betrayal on the night that started it all. Both come from experiences with monsters that should have stayed in the story books and not have been revived from the imaginations of a craved mad man looking for power.

The child came along quickly but the bond that should have followed after the birth didn’t. Leon suited the role, was proud of the title as his undamaged hands cradled the bundle of light. You were scared to stain the white blanket red, to taint her with the blood on your hands as you carried her and the weight of the world on your shoulders. It was just a cause from postpartum, the doctors claimed as Leon dragged you to the appointments, no longer being able to bear looking at you carelessly cradling the bundle to your chest. Finding it heartbreaking to witness the rejection and worries towards a surprise you weren’t excited for, he didn't know what caused your panic or fears about motherhood. It was a horrible secret, something you could and wouldn't express to him. You would end up dimming the light that radiated off him as he slid into fatherhood with ease, nurturing both you and baby as if it was second nature. As if once again he always knew his life would turn out like this.

The rejection you had against her didn’t last long, not when her smile would greet you in the mornings with unconditional love. Her tiny hands now more explorative than claiming, her fingers delicate against the scars as they traced them instead of their pinching and grabbing behavior before. You wonder what she thought of them, if they were pretty like Leon thought or told an ugly side to you like you imagined.

Those types of thought didn't really matter in the end as it became evident that the family you had created with him was now finally healing you. The eye bags you wore now lightening as you gained as much sleep as you could with a crying baby, your body fills out lightly again as you ate with Leon every night. A 6 month maternity leave was what you needed apparently, to heal and find yourself in something other than the weapons and skills you used to protect yourself. However, just as quick as it came the maternity leave ended and he watched you fall into the same cycle you had created before, the wall slowly building as you steeled yourself to face the harsh survival again. Your body is working hard to be able to shoulder all your burdens, the cold features returning as you walk through the door.

He hated what they did to you, what they forced you to become as he just did idle work for the community. Helping old ladies cross the road whilst he was on patrol, chasing after meaningless kids before they ruined their futures. He was the station's favourite, as was the little girl you both created. Her eyes danced around with wonder as he carried her around, her little fist clutched against his shirt whilst her head rested on his shoulder. They asked about you, how the birth was, about the recovery after. Cooed over the shared ability you both had at creating cute babies, questions of another one spilling from their lips in curiosity about their favourite officers life. “It’s better to have them close in age, they’ll look after each other if something happens.” they would say.

He knew what they were on about, he always did. You, the dangers that you faced in the role displayed on your own shiny badge that remained tucked in a pocket compared to on your shoulder like him. A job that reminded him life was short and precious, that every moment he spent with his family he should be grateful for.

Leon wanted nothing more than to plead and beg on the phone to them, just to let you rest. It had been years since you smiled truthfully, since the light in your eyes returned for more than just your wedding night. Your daughter and himself are now presented in your life as guardian angels, the people that help save you from yourself. Leon hated you leaving, not knowing if you were going to return or if he was going to be greeted with a half assed apology and an American flag being handed to him by two soldiers. He could never stand seeing the missing piece of the stupid key holder you got him for christmas. Forever waiting for your keychain to fill the missing piece of the puzzle, not only in the tacky key display but in the home itself.

He’ll blame his coworkers for putting the idea in his head, the seed that implanted in his brain which formed into his current plan to keep you safe and at home, at least for a little bit longer. He watched you shower through the reflection of the bathroom mirror, the steam he had wiped away coming back just as quick. You were fading from him again, retreating into your shell of darkness like it was some kind of punishment. In the fogged glass he could see that you had a multitude of new scrapes and cuts, some that he knew would scar adding to your already intensive collection.

Your eyes met him through the fogged glass noticing how his stare was intense and lustful as he scoured every inch of your body. It had been a while since you were both together, the interruption of your toddler didn’t help. Neither did the aches and pains of your first few missions, he didn’t seem to mind though. He never did. Leon would deal with his desires in other ways, your hand or his work perfectly with some lube and dirty words. However, tonight his cock throbbed with the need to be as deep as he could go, to be able to feel the sweet kiss of your cervix as he bred you. You didn’t know this, his plans to empty what he had let build in his balls whilst you were gone. However, you would have assumed he was ovulating with how intense his stare was and perhaps a creampie would be a good distraction and stress reliever.

A family friend had your daughter for a few days, as they always did when you got back. An agreement you had made with Leon in fear she would witness one of your possible nightmares. You were her strong mommy, a superhero that left to save people whilst Daddy stayed and helped the town. You hoped she would keep this idea and never witness what your superhero job did to you.

“You look pretty tired sweetheart.” Leon spoke, his frame leaning against the counter. If the shower screen wasn’t so misted up you would have noticed the prominent display of his erection through the grey sweats he wore. His legs crossed slightly like he was doing it on purpose, to display the goods he hadn’t touched for you. “When am I not tired? I’ve only been back to work for a few weeks and I feel like I need a holiday.” You sighed, facing the stream to wash the lathered soap off. Watching as the murky colour washed down the drain. The taint of corruption disappearing from the household.

“You look like you need a holiday.” Leon teased as he watched the suds flow off your breasts, now rounded and fuller since the first pregnancy, an unexpected but welcomed change. “Are you saying I look like shit? You wound me Kennedy.” You chuckled whilst turning the shower off and stepping out around the screen to finally see him face to face. “Oh darling, you look at anything but that.”

Leon shifted himself, his hips jolting out first pressing his need towards you as he drew your attention to him. He smirked as it worked, your eyes lighting up at the display and promise of his unconditional love towards you. “I think you look rather stunning actually.” He continued.

Leon stalked towards you, his hands landing on your hips rubbing his thumb along the skin in small tempting circles. The motion mimicking the same one he uses on your clit, soft, small infinity symbols, drawing them around your body like a spell. He knew your body like a map, understanding each small trigger to set you on fire, leaving you needy and desperate for him. Leon’s lips placed tempting kisses along your pulse point, sucking softly at a spot underneath your jawline as his fingers traced lower. He had a clear directive, a goal to be met as they finally teased your puffy lips. He gathered the arousal there, his clothes now damp as he tugged your body towards him.

Leon’s heady scent infected you, his cock was hard and twitching against your bare pussy. “I feel like this is a little unfair. You can get me worked up while I’m naked but I have to suffer with the outline through some sweats and a compression shirt.” You pouted, a smirk creeping in slowly as he pulled you closer. Leon’s breath teased the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Let’s do something about that then.”

He lifted you with ease, your thighs squeezing his hips as he walked you to the bedroom. Your kiss never broke until you landed on the bed. He groaned at the sight of your body in the dim lighting, droplets that still lingered on your skin making you glow. You watched as the fabric slipped over his head, showcasing his well maintained physic. Your eyes eagerly follow his happy trail to where his fingers now teased along the waistband of his sweatpants. Leon chuckled at the squirm you offered him as he exposed his impressive and needy length, the sight never getting any less arousing despite the years the two of you have been together.

His tip was leaking pre cum, wasting the precious droplets on the sheets as he crawled above you. “I love how you are always so ready for me sweetheart.” He said as his tip ran along the length of your pussy, coating himself with your arousal. You whimpered at the feeling of him slotting himself between your lips, his tip catching your clit with slow teasing prods of stimulation. Your hands grasped at his forearms as your nails left your own marks along his untouched skin. The red trails fading in your memory as he notched himself at your entrance, sighing as he finally began to press his length inside.

Each inch he gave you was glorious, stretching your cunt perfectly allowing you to lose your mind in his gentle rhythm. Leon was always good at helping you float away from your responsibilities. The horrors fade to the background of your mind as his pace increases. He loved the way you writhed beneath him, your arms now outstretching above your head gripping the sheets with an iron grip. Your chest arched towards him, displaying your perfect tits whilst whining as his lips made contact with them. He started sucking softly against your nipple as it peaked. His tongue circling it occasionally grazing his teeth against the sensitive flesh. Tender marks leaving in his wake, painting his own mark against the other spots that decorated over your skin.

Leon worshiped you, every scar, every bump that you had to offer. All holding a story of your survival. His mind began to fill with his intentions, the primal drive to push himself further and further inside your warmth. He needed to flood your insides with himself so you had no other option but to take it. He would press himself as far as he needed for that to become possible. As his frame began to tower over you, he pressed your legs into your chest, folding your body in the perfect way to drill himself inside. You felt his thighs squeeze your hips, his were thrusts now deeper and harder, his length barely pulling out before he pressed it back in. Your eyes fluttered shut, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of him overpowering you.

“Fuck sweetheart, doing such a good job at taking me so deep” He groaned, “I got to get it deeper though, think you can take it baby?”

Leon smiled at your small nod, your eyebrows pinching as his constant thrust brought you to overstimulation. He could feel your cunt squeeze him tightly, sucking him further inside. You needed this as much as him, your cunt practically begging to be creampied. He wondered if despite your initial protests of the first pregnancy that you would want this one as well, that maybe you loved being filled with his claim. His tightened balls slapped against your ass as he continued his grinding thrusts, your cunt screaming and gushing with your arousal as you finally lost yourself in the pleasure he gifted you. “I’ll keep you safe like this baby, keep you home and protected” He grunted, his thoughts unravelling as the internal chant to go deeper began.

He obeyed his instincts, driving his cock head deeper and deeper inside, giving your cunt more than it could take of him. Your pelvis ached with his abuse, your clit screaming white hot pleasure as his wisps of hair teased it. “Leon–” You moaned, eyes fluttered back as you attempted to arch into him. His entire body prevented it, keeping you trapped in his methodic movements. His concentration never broke, his mind missing the announcement of your second orgasm as his cock twitched frantically inside you.

Leon was painfully rigid, allowing your walls to feel every inch and vein he had to offer. His own release surprised him as he began to thrust it inside of you. Filling you to the brim whilst making a mess of it as it spilled out. “Fuck, gotta get it deeper, make sure it takes. It’s gotta take, to keep you home” he groaned, pushing his load further. The overspill didn’t matter, not when he would take advantage of the time alone you both had, spending every moment filling you so his goal was achieved.

In your world he was powerless, he had nothing to stand on to keep you home, to ensure that you were healthy and happy. The government couldn’t stop your growing family, couldn’t send you out on the field whilst you were filled with him. “I’ll make sure it works, I’ll keep you happy baby…keep you safe”

You should have been more concerned with his words, as he admitted his overpowering thoughts on your body. Yet, as he eased you into the right mindset, the perfect one for thinking about nothing but the warmth that flooded through you, instead of your responsibilities in the world.

The arousal lingered in your nerves, your aches of pain from battle being replaced with the ones he caused. “I love you, I need you safe” Leon whispered, pressing a kiss against your brows. He manoeuvred your conjoined bodies, not allowing his semi hard cock to slip from your pussy and allow his load to spill anymore than it already did. Your head moved with his heaving breaths, slowly slipping into a peaceful rest before he repeated his process.

All he wanted was to keep you safe, you had done your part for the world. Your body is decorated in the marks that they caused, the history of whatever you had been through. Whilst he was inspired by your bravery he needed you here, like this, with him. “I love you too leon” You replied, your body becoming dead weight as you drifted off. His twitching cock keeps you plugged full, ensuring his desires become true and trapping you in the safety of the house he had built for the growing family he had planned.

#~mads rambles #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #dividers by elleisdesigning

531 notes · View notes

makiwife · 25 days ago

Text

Paddock's First Look KA12!

Off Track & Under Wraps Series

Kimi Antonelli x Kinesiology HS Student! Reader

A/n: All pics from Pinterest and Instagram.

Summary: Kimi Antonelli starts his first f1 season this year, so it's time for some good PR. Little does Kimi know teasing his secret relationship might be the perfect ingredient.

Warnings: sexual jokes, cursing

Previous | Next

y/n_priv

Liked by friend5, bsf6, bsf1, and 2,589 others

y/n_priv waiting for bae to cum home

View comments...

friend12: she's so JACKED

↳ y/n_priv: gotta lock in for the haters to see me w their fav rookie 😃

bsf3: the cranberry juice is frying me

↳ y/n_priv: a girls gotta be ready 😛

bsf4: how you can take such aesthetic pics for the gram, but crash out 5 secs later is beyond me

↳ bsf1: it's truly a skill I need to learn

↳ y/n_priv: k so you guys hate me.

kimi.antonelli: 2 more days amore mio:)) then we can 👅👅

↳ bsf2: BOOOO GET OUTTA HERE W THAT SHIT

↳ y/n_priv: 😈😈😈

olliebearman: waiting for bae to what...? liked by author ♥️

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bsf1

Liked by bfs4, y/n_priv, friend2, and 3,490 others

bsf1: last hangout before she'll be RIPPED AWAY from me (unwillingly) 😞

View comments...

friend4: YOU SAW TYLER??

↳ bsf1: i told ya you should've came

y/n_priv: i'll be stuck at the hip w him

↳ bsf1: i know...

↳ kimi.antonelli: you say this like its a bad thing... liked by author ♥️

↳ bsf1: "#ihatemybf"

friend1: beautiful girlsss 😍😍

classmate2: love this

friend74: look it's tyler and asap in the first n last pic liked by author ♥️

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kimi.antonelli posted on their story

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y/n_priv

Liked by bsf1, friend4, classmate11, and 1,562 others

y/n_priv KIMS IS HEREEEEE 🤩🤩

Comments have been limited...

bsf1: oh brother hes back.....

↳ kimi.antonelli: you are just jealous i have her BACK now 💋

↳ y/n_priv: ladies ladies 🫷😸🫸 let's not argue, there's enough of me to go around

olliebearman: lovely feature right there liked by author ♥️

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y/n_priv

Liked by bsf3, friend7, classmate4, and 2,039 others

y/n_priv last 2 🥰

View comments…

olliebearman: ok you had your fun, now come back

↳ y/n_priv: no 😁

friend14: you guys are the cutest liked by author ♥️

bsf1: i hate him

↳ kimi.antonelli: boohoo shes staying with me

↳ y/n_priv: i'm literally running back rn 🏃‍♀️

bsf3: I LOVE LOVE liked by author ♥️

kimi.antonelli: what a guy

↳ y/n_priv: oh who is UUUU!!???

______________________________________________________________

y/n_priv posted on their story

bsf1 replied to your story: ehh 0/10 y/n_priv ♥️ this message

olliebearman replied to your story: solid 10/10 i'd say y/n_priv ♥️ this message

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F1 posted on their story

F1: It's race day in Jeddah

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Liked by fan3, kimi.antonelli, superfan67, and 525K others

F1 Race day ready

View comments…

pirelli_motorsport: been waiting for this

superfan12: KIMI WHO IS THAT??

fan63: THIRD SLIDE ‼️

fan4: not f1 accidentally (??) soft launching kimi's relationship

fan07: didnt know kimi had game like that 🙂‍↕️

superfan5: HELLO SHES SO PRETTY OMG

fan22: MYSTERY GIRL I NEED TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE

fan44: wait im obsessed with them, she's probably so nervous for her first f1 appearance and he's just there comforting her 🥹

↳ fan1: literal goals i hope his fans wont be weird w her

a/n: WOW SO FUN hope you enjoyed!!

tag list ♡: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @scentedrosa @daisydaze111 @schniti-is-in-the-house

258 notes · View notes

aurorawritestoescape · 1 year ago

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AMERICAN BEAUTY

best friend’s dad Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,7k

Summary: Joel sees you in a wet dream. Then you make his dream a reality.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, Joel’s pov, horny!Joel, age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), m/f masturbation, mention of f!oral, mention of piv, m!oral, light degradation/slut shaming, swearing. Pics are for the mood, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: This is for Jett’s Flora and Fauna Challenge 🌸 Thank you @morallyinept for hosting such an amazing event!💜Hugs and kisses to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b♥️Javi’s forehead smooch to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Hope you all will enjoy this filth🌹

Part 2 PLEASE, SIR || MASTERLIST

*****

It’s late. Exhausted after a long work day, Joel is sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s mindlessly flipping through channels, taking a sip of the warm alcohol from time to time.

The dark room is lit only by the TV and his pupils jump every time the screen goes black and then explodes with another picture.

A movie catches his attention and he stops pushing the button on the remote control. “American Beauty”. He’s seen it a couple of times, years ago.

He watches a little and then changes the channel. While his eyes are set on an old infomercial, his thoughts wander back to the movie. The iconic scene flashes in his mind - a beautiful girl is lying naked, surrounded by a myriad of red rose petals. Joel chuckles at the irony of him stumbling on that movie but drives the worrying thoughts away. He’s too tired for this.

Soon the exhaustion and the alcohol in his blood take their toll and his eyes close by themselves.

When they open, he sees you. Sarah’s college friend, who is staying with them this spring break. When Sarah asked him if you could crash with them for a few days, he didn’t mind. He was glad that she would have a friend to have fun with.

But the moment he saw you, he knew that he was fucked. When you smiled at him the first time, he blushed like a teenager. You were a knockout beauty. Your voice was the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Your body made his cock twitch every time he laid eyes on you and your sexy crop tops, daisy dukes and bikinis didn’t help. Be damned Austin and its hot weather!

It’s not surprising that he’s dreaming about you now. It’s fucked up but hey, it’s just a dream.

As if his mind is mocking him, he sees you completely naked, while only crimson rose petals are covering your breasts and pussy as well as every inch around you. Some of them are floating around, swirling, dancing in the air.

You look perfect, lying there like an offering to him and he craves to see more. All of you. So he blows on the petals on your chest and they fly away in slow motion, revealing your beautiful breasts. You moan when the soft flowers graze your hardened nipples, and the sound makes Joel’s cock throb with need.

Can he touch you? As soon as this thought crosses his mind he sees his hand splayed on your sternum. He swears he can feel your heartbeat under his calloused palm. He glides his hand to your breast and kneads it. Your lips open and he hears your needy whimper.

He wants to tell you, ‘yes, baby, I’ll make you feel good soon, so soon,’ but his mouth is silent. He’ll have to show you then.

His gaze travels lower, to the heaven of your body, covered by the red petals. He glances up and sees your almost pained expression. Oh how you want his fat cock! ‘I’ll give it to you good, baby, don’t you worry. Spread your legs for me.’ His wordless wish is your command and your legs part oh so slowly, while he’s holding his breath in anticipation.

In front of his lustful eyes, your pussy blooms for him, still mostly hidden by the flowers.

‘Let me see’, he wishes, “Let me in.”

He carefully picks one petal off your mound and throws it away. You pleasantly surprise him when you lift your legs, and holding your knees with your hands, open your thighs wide for him.

‘Good girl,’ he thinks.

In a second his mouth is hovering over your pussy, and the sweet scent of your arousal makes his head spin. He darts his tongue out and presses it to the petal on the crease of your thigh. It sticks and he glides his tongue over it, before taking it out of his mouth with his fingers.

He does the same with another petal, which rests right on your clit. You moan when his hot tongue grazes your bud.

He picks the petals one after another with his mouth, lips, tongue, slowly and deliberately, almost edging you and himself in the process but he can’t help it. He wants to prolong this pleasant moment.

When all the petals are gone, his eyes feast on the sight of your bare cunt in front of him, glistening, crying for his attention. He lowers his face and his mouth latches onto your waiting pussy. The taste, the feel of you make his whole body tremble, his cock aches, desperate to be touched, and the sensation is so strong, he immediately wakes up.

He’s panting heavily, eyes darting around the dark room, his mind slowly coming back to reality.

The TV is still on, illuminating his surroundings, and he sees a wet spot on his jeans. His bulge is huge and his cock is pulsating under the confines of the clothes. He needs to jerk off.

Joel listens to the sounds upstairs but hears nothing. You and Sarah must be already sleeping. He contemplates turning on porn but stops himself. He can just remember what he saw a few seconds ago. It was so fucking hot and looked real.

So he unzips his jeans and pulls his throbbing cock out of his wet boxers. It’s big and hard, ready to explode from the slightest touch.

He holds it at the base, rests his head back against the couch and shuts his eyes. The image of you splayed naked, surrounded by roses, comes back to his mind and he begins slowly stroking his cock. He brings back the memory of his mouth on your pussy, him sucking, licking your soaked hole, gathering your arousal with the tip of his tongue and drinking your juices.

Joel is close and he wants to come inside you. If only in his fantasy. He forms his thumb and index finger into a small circle and brings them to the tip of his cock. Imitating your tight pussy, he slowly pushes the head through the opening between his fingers and moans your name, followed by “Oh, baby.”

“Mr Miller?”

Joel’s heart plummets into his stomach when he hears your soft voice, coming from the hall. To his horror, he sees you standing in the doorway. He’s not sure if you saw him or what he was doing at that angle, but his heart is pounding in his chest. He roughly tucks his hard cock back into the jeans, hissing in pain, grabs his plaid shirt off the side of the couch and covers his tent.

“ ‘s late. Go to bed, sweetheart,” he throws in your direction, almost out of the room, but your hand on his biceps stops him in his tracks.

“Mr Miller?”

His head whips your way,

“If ya need anythin’, just ask Sarah. I’m headin’ to bed.” He takes a step out and you say,

“Don’t I get to enjoy it?”

He freezes and looks back at you.

“Enjoy what?”

“That,” you point at his crotch with your chin, “Your boner. I heard you say my name so… I guess you should thank me for it.”

He gawks at you at first, not believing his own ears, but then his gaze narrows and slides from your face down your body. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time just now.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

“Oh, you’re a slut?”

It comes out as half a question-half a statement and you reply with a smile, “I wouldn’t put it like that, Mr Miller.”

He turns to you, dropping his hands, not hiding his huge tent anymore, and you stare at it shamelessly, biting your lip at the sight.

“And how would you put it? Cos ya surely sound like one,” he says, coming up close to you. His eyes slide up and down your body, taking in your hardened nipples under a soft tee, tiny sleeping shorts, barely covering anything. Your big doe eyes are staring up at him as you purr,

“I just take what I want. Whoever I want.”

“Yeah, that’s a slut. Maybe I don’t like sluts,” he growls, taking a step and caging you against the doorframe. He doesn’t touch you but the arousal oozing from the both of you electrifies the air.

“Your hard-on says otherwise,” you retort and he takes a sharp breath. “Let me help you with it, Mr Miller.”

You say his name in a sultry voice, and a shiver goes down his spine. Fuck, he needs to come soon or he’ll bust a load in his pants.

Joel shifts his jaw in thought, staring at you. You lick your lower lip, looking crazy hot, and the decision is made. By his head or his cock, doesn’t matter.. .You gave him this raging boner so you’ll have to deal with it now. Morals be damned.

Joel walks to the couch and plops down with a grunt. He manspreads and you come up to him.

“I ain’t fuckin’ you, girl,” he grunts, looking up at you from under his brows. Faking a shy smile, you kneel between his legs on the floor. The sight of you standing on your knees, so obedient to him, makes his cock leak precum.

“Can I suck your cock, daddy?”

“Fuck no, no daddies,” he growls, furrowing his brows at you.

You pout your lips in thought, scratching his jean-clad thighs with your nails.

“Mr Miller?”

He smiles. “Much better.”

“Sir?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” his cock practically vibrates when you call him that.

“Mr Miller it is then,” you smirk and unzip his jeans.

He lets you pull down his jeans and boxers to his mid thigh while he’s watching you, his big arm resting on the headrest of the couch, the other hand on his naked thigh.

The moment your fingers touch his stiff length, Joel curses and starts breathing heavily. He tries to keep his cool, but it’s almost impossible.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, that is standing at attention, red angry tip glistening with precum.

“Wow,” you breathe out, and he notices a trace of fear in your expression.

“ ‘s right. Think twice before you take on the task, baby.”

Baby. That word does something to you, he sees it. You squirm between his legs, blown eyes set on his twitching cock.

You take a deep breath, collecting yourself, and lower your head. All his muscles tense up as he anticipates the feeling of your warm mouth on his cock, but you freeze midway and glance up at him, beautiful eyes glinting in the darkness of the room.

“Was I a good girl in your fantasy?”

He bucks his hips in need and replies, “Very good girl.”

His tormenting mind brings back the images of you in the sea of red roses and a clear drop of precum beads on his slit.

You smile and murmur, “Let’s see if I can do better than her.”

With that, you lick off the arousal of his fat head and he moans at the sensation.

You start taking him in slowly but confidently, pressing your hot tongue to the underside of his shaft. Your hand is cupping his heavy balls, gently massaging them. You’re already drooling around him and he thinks, that’s what heaven feels like.

“What a nice sloppy mouth you’ve got there, little slut.”

His harsh praise makes you moan around his cock. You start bobbing your head, your mouth moving up and down his length rhythmically. Joel shuts his eyes, as the image of you working his cock adds to the ecstasy and pushes him towards the edge faster and faster. He can’t come so soon. He wants himself forever buried in your sloppy warm mouth. Or in your tight wet cunt. Fuck, why is he doing it to himself?

His balls get tight and move in your palm, and your mouth leaves his cock.

“Don’t come yet. I want it on my pussy.”

“I said I ain’t fucking ya,” Joel growls, clenching his teeth.

“I said on my pussy,” you roll your eyes and add, “Think of a dead dog or something.”

You fucking wink at him and get back to sucking his poor cock.

Your lips and tongue are massaging every inch of his length and Joel closes his eyes again, hastily trying to find something in his mind that can stop him from squirting his hot cum down your throat.

His truck needs an oil change, yeah, he’ll deal with it tomorrow. It helps for a second but then he pictures you all oiled up and glistening. This very moment your face nuzzles his lower belly as you take him so deep in your throat, he feels you swallowing around him.

Joel opens his eyes and sees tears roll down your cheeks, your lips wrapped around the base of his member, your eyes empty and full of lust.

He quickly grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his cock, trying not to hurt you. You whine and he hisses,

“Shit…gonna come.”

“On my pussy, please, please!”

Joel groans and grabs you by the arm, lifting you on your feet. He tosses you on the couch, takes off your shorts and snarls, “ ‘course, no panties, little slut.”

He kneels between your legs, his hand braced on the headrest, the other wrapped around his ready-to explode cock.

“Show me your kitty, baby.”

“Oh, so is it ‘slut’ or ‘baby’, Mr Miller?” You purr, pouting your lips, but spread your thighs nonetheless.

“Right now you’re a fuckin’ brat,” he snaps and you smile, pulling your knees to your chest, just like in his dream. You lift your shirt, offering your breasts for his view as your hand darts to your pussy to spread your folds with your fingers, so he could paint every inch of you.

He points the tip at your soaked cunt, pumps his cock once, twice and the first jet of his cum shoots and lands right on your clit. You whimper into the back of your hand and your fingers get to work, swirling your bud, using his cum as lube. Joel doesn’t tear his eyes off the sight, milking his pulsating cock and giving you more, more, coating your pussy with a thick layer of his creamy load.

You’re wriggling under him, your nipples hard, belly heaving and when one more squirt hits your clit, you come, silently screaming and squeezing your eyes shut in euphoria. Joel sees your hole clench around nothing, and regrets not fucking your little pussy.

He’s panting, hovering over you, drinking you in and trying to memorize every little detail for his spank bank, while waves of pleasure hit you again and again, your body shaking and trembling.

“Oh, sir,” you whimper and he smiles triumphantly.

When your climax subsides, Joel goes to the bathroom. As he’s soaking a towel with warm water, he stares at himself in the mirror. His hair is tousled, face flushed. The realization of what he’s just done slowly sinks in and he curses at the reflection, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”

He returns and hands you the towel. You sit up and start wiping his cum off.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sarah. Or anyone else,” you say, looking up at him.

Joel nods, and his hand darts to touch your face but he stops himself. You get up and grab your soaked shorts off the floor before turning to him.

“How about we watch a movie tomorrow, Mr Miller?” You ask, coming up to him with a gorgeous smile on your lips that makes him blush. “Same time, just you and me?”

Joel’s looking into your eyes, fruitlessly trying to hide his infatuation with you, and his hand rises to your face. He gently brushes your lower lip with his thumb and mumbles bitterly, “Think I know what movie to pick.”

Your face lights up and you purr with a wink, “Can’t wait to not watch it with you. Sweet dreams, daddy.”

Joel grunts disapprovingly and slaps your naked ass, when you turn to leave. You gasp, looking back at him, and bite your lip.

Before going upstairs, you give him a charming smile and he takes a deep breath.

Yeah, he’s fucked.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌹

Please consider commenting and reblogging if you enjoyed the fic!♥️

Pt 2 PLEASE, SIR || Masterlist

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raven-dor · 7 months ago

Text

you took my breath away

in which gwayne hightower reunites with his wife at the battle of rook’s rest

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x fem!reader, gwayne hightower x wife!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x SISTER!reader

WARNINGS: angst, typical HOTD violence, kissing, arguing, VV FLUFFY ENDING

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

🎶 : Fallingforyou - The 1975

AN: 🩵♥️💗 - the children’s names are ALYSSA + GAEMON!! heavily inspired by a comment on my masterlist!! saw it and absolutely ran with it, hope you guys enjoy!!

“Alyssa, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you may wake up and ride Morning.”

The young girl smiled, burying herself into her blankets. “Do you promise, Mother?”

“I promise.” Her voice broke as she spoke, smiling quickly. “Now go to sleep.”

“Is that a new riding dress?” Alyssa’s eyes lulled shut as she spoke.

“It is..” She laughed, kissing Alyssa’s forehead gently. “Try and get some rest.”

“I love you, Mother.”

“I love you, my darling.”

The woman stood up, tucking her daughter in before walking out of the room, smiling at the maid that passed by. “Please see to it that the children have their favorite breakfast made.”

The maid nodded. “Of course, my lady. Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you.” She waited until the girl rounded the corner to start running. She hadn’t wanted to alarm anyone or make any of her servants think that she’d left her husband.

Not that the corridors she walked down were populated. It had been hours since dusk, the last servant she’d seen had been by her children’s rooms.

After living in Oldtown for longer than she cared to admit, she knew this tower like the back of her hand. In the early years of her marriage, she admitted that her knowledge of the castle was lacking, which is when she discovered that her husband had made a servant help her find her way, worried she would get lost.

He was always so thoughtful.

So thoughtful, she knew it was only a matter of time before he realized she’d spent too long putting the children to sleep, and he would leave their shared chambers with the sole purpose of finding her. She picked up the pace, pushing the side door open that led to the dragon pit. Not many knew of its location as it was out of sight of the fortress. Only the Hightower family and its few dragon keepers knew where it stood.

It wasn’t large by any means, but Gwayne had built it for her. When they’d taken Daeron to ward, and Alyssa had claimed her dragon, he’d had the best dragon pit lords brought in to aid with the addition process. It was nothing compared to the dragon pit she’d grown up with, but it was large enough to house the three Hightower dragons, and it was perfect to her.

She had been beyond proud when her daughter claimed her dragon, Morning, at her last family visit to King’s Landing. Alyssa had only been eight, the second youngest dragon rider after her Aunt Rhaenyra. Alyssa’s grandfather had been even prouder, hosting a celebration feast in her honor, much to the Alicent’s dismay. A deep groan echoed through the pit, Silverwing’s snout peaking from her cave. Y/N’s hand fell to her stomach, caressing it gently, before approaching her dragon. “Lyka, ñuha prūmia.” (Quiet, my heart.)

Climbing the saddle, she wrapped her arm with the reigns like she had a hundred times before. She leaned forward, laying her cheek against the dragon’s scales, humming lightly. “Īlon're jāre lenton, Silverwing.” (We're going home, Silverwing.)

Silverwing practically purred, stretching her wings beneath the light of the moon.

“My love.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, straightening her spine, her husband’s deep blue eyes meeting hers. Silverwing purred yet again; she had loved him husband since the day you had.

“Gwayne.” Y/N’s tone was cold, colder than it had ever been while addressing him.

“I heard you telling the children goodnight. When will you return?” His voice was wavering as if he was forcing himself to remain calm, but she could tell he was itching to tell her to stay. “They will-”

“Do not bring them into this.” She looked down at the reigns. “The children will be fine.”

“And when they ask where their mother has gone? What then?” His calm facade had faded, he sounded tired, and ragged with grief. Her heart ached to hold him: he had told her the stories of his mother, how she’d left him so young. While she did not want the same for their children, she had to help her sister. “Stay, and I swear to you we will fight for your sister.”

“When? In two years time? Gwayne, I cannot continue the way we have. I am loyal to the true heir, to my sister. Surely you can-”

“Have you truly been so miserable? My heart lies with you, as it always has. I cannot stand that usurper king either, and yet I continue on. For your sake, for our children’s sake. You know he would not hesitate to kill us all.”

“So you cower? You cower when Rhaenyra needs you most? When I need you most?” She tightened her pull, preparing to flee. He had always been her weakness, and she could not back out. Not this time. “You are not the man I thought you were.”

“How-” He stumbled backward as if she had stabbed him in the heart. “I have loved you with every bit of my being-”

“And it is not enough!” She yelled, an uncomfortable silence falling over them.

His voice was quiet, a mere whisper that was only carried by the night’s breeze. “Then I am sorry I have let you down.”

“Tell the children I love them.” Gwayne watched as his wife flew away, his hair flying out of his face from the force of her dragon’s wings. That had not hurt him, not sent him into shock or despair. The pain of knowing that she’d left them rang through him, and he turned away, stalking back toward the castle a broken man.

“I love you, Mother.”

“I love you, my darling.”

Her mother was elegant, standing quickly before gently tucking her in before leaving the room. Alyssa waited until she heard her footsteps turn into nothing before rolling out of bed. She ran to her wardrobe, pulling on her flying robes with ease. Alyssa had known, as hard as her mother had tried to hide it, that she was leaving.

The Lady Hightower was a proud woman. Of course, she was. Born a Targaryen, she had every right to be proud, everyone always said that Targaryens were closer to gods than men. Alyssa liked to think she was more Targaryen than Hightower. She loved her father, but she felt alive when she flew her dragon.

When she sat in the sept like her Aunt Alicent taught her, she felt as if she could fall asleep.

Opening her door as quietly as she could, she tiptoed down the hallway, following the path to the dragon pit. She’d almost reached the door that led outside when her brother’s voice called after her. “Lyssa? What are you doing?”

She sighed, throwing her head back in annoyance. “Gaemon, go to bed.”

“Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

She turned around, hissing. “I’m following Mother.”

His eyes grew teary. By the gods, he was tiresome. “Is she leaving us?”

Alyssa clenched her fists. “She doesn’t want to leave us, she wants to help her sister.”

“Aunt Helaena?”

Her brother needed to visit the library. “Aunt Rhaenyra. The true-born Queen.” She felt proud when she said it, but Gaemon only looked lost. “Swear you won’t tell Father I’ve gone.”

He nodded. “I won’t tell because I am coming with you.” He puffed his chest. “I want to help.”

She laughed. “You? With what dragon?”

“I can claim one, just like you did.” His bottom lip jutted out, and she fought the urge to groan.

“Fine, fine. Just promise you will stay quiet.”

She’d always loved Oldtown at night. It was quiet, peaceful compared to how busy it was during the day. Her favorite time to fly was late, long past dusk when no one could see her or judge her for her choice of clothing.

“My love.”

Alyssa’s heart stopped. There stood their father, confronting their mother. Gaemon whined. “I hate it when they fight.”

“They have not even begun to fight, Gaemon.”

“That is why I hate it.” He squeezed her hand. “It is starting.”

“I heard you, telling the children goodnight. When will you return?” Their father continued. Alyssa’s eyes welled, she hated seeing her father so upset. “They will-”

“Do not bring them into this. The children will be fine.”

“And when they ask where their mother has gone? What then?” Their father’s voice sounded upset, angry with their mother for leaving. Alyssa could feel Gaemon pulling away.

“Stay, and I swear to you we will fight for your sister.”

“When? In two years time? Gwayne, I cannot continue the way we have. I am loyal to the true heir, to my sister. Surely you can-”

As much as she wanted to listen to her parents, Gaemon was young and fragile, hearing this talk would only upset him further. She grabbed his hand, pulling him further into the dragon pit. “Come, Gaemon. There is a tunnel that leads to Morning’s cave.”

“But Mother-”

“We will see Mother soon.”

“And Papa?”

Her heart twisted, pretending she had not heard him. “Morning has missed you. If you behave, I will let you feed her first.”

Dragonstone was so beautiful in the early morning, the way the sun hit the sea just so. Not long ago, she had accompanied her sister to retrieve their brother’s egg. She had even brought Gwayne mere weeks after their courtship had begun. No one inhabited Dragonstone then, and they had fully taken advantage of the fact.

Her cheeks grew red thinking of it, that this had been the first place they’d kissed.

Now her sister resided in their ancestral home.

She knew that the Queen’s council would be wary of her arrival. Being the Lady Hightower, many expected her to be loyal to the new King. The lords who advised her sister had forgotten that she was a Targaryen, a Princess of royal birth, the youngest daughter of their beloved King Viserys and Queen Aemma. While she loved her husband deeply, she remained loyal to her sister, as she always had been.

Silverwing dove, landing gracefully on the clearing adjacent to Dragonstone. Sliding off her saddle, Y/N laid her forehead against Silverwing’s cheek, whispering her thanks before approaching the soldiers that stood guard.

“Who goes there?”

“Princess Y/N Targaryen. The Lady of Oldtown.” The guards looked at each other suspiciously. She couldn’t blame them, the Hightowers were the entire reason this war had started. She sighed. “I am the Queen’s sister.”

“Aunt.” Her niece emerged from the shadows, dismissing the two men. “How wonderful you could join us.”

“I sense you are less than happy to see me.” She walked past her, straight into the castle. “That will change.” The castle was dark, the candles doing little to illuminate its halls.

“You are mistaken.” Baela laughed. “I fear we need your help now more than ever.”

“Oh?” She frowned. “What has happened?”

“The small council,” Baela whispered, the servants in front of them pushing the great doors open, their ancestor’s Painted Table coming into view. “They grow tired laying in wait.”

“I see.” She allowed a faint smile to grace her face, showing her niece she had no ill will. “Then I am glad to be of help.”

“Y/N?”

Her eyes welled, her arms widening as her nephew ran to her. “Jaceaerys.” She hugged him tightly. “You are a man-grown.”

“I am glad you are here-”

“My Prince.” Sir Erryk interrupted. “Another dragon has landed.”

“Another?” Jaceaerys looked near murderous. Y/N could not blame him, her half-brothers were erratic, never stopping to think about what their actions might do to others. However, Aegon was not stupid enough to show up alone, and Aemond was too proud to let Aegon confront their sister.

“Allow me to accompany you.” Y/N hooked her arm through her nephews. “I should like to see my dear little brother again.”

Jaceaerys laughed. “I will enjoy you humbling my mother’s council.”

The sun had fully risen by the time they left the castle. The dragon was far back, far enough so that they could not make out the face of its rider. Even from a distance, both could tell that it was neither Vhagar nor Sunfyre. It was not small by any means, but its build was quainter than that of Vhagar or Sunfyre’s. Not to mention, its scales were pink, a color neither of the older dragons possessed. “Whose-” Y/N’s blood went cold. The only pink dragon she could name was-

Jaceaerys looked over, tilting his head. “Is everything alright, Aunt?”

“That dragon is my-”

“Mother!”

“Mama!”

She raced down the path, grabbing her children and holding them close, inspecting them for injuries. Jace just laughed, a hand covering his mouth. “Baela will enjoy this.”

The council, as her niece had said, was power-hungry by nature. With her sister absent, they seemed to pounce at the chance to silence Jaceaerys and her aunt. She turned away from the fire, setting her hands on the table as she brazenly interrupted. “I must say, Ser Broome, you are quite comfortable interrupting the heir to the Iron Throne.” The older man sat back in his chair, silent. “Have you recently come into a title that allows you to do so?”

He shook his head. “No, Princess.”

“Then I suggest, in the future, you hold your tongue.” Her smile was curt, looking back to her nephew. “As you were saying, My Prince.”

“We must send a dragon.”

“Where?” The council stood, bowing their heads as Rhaenyra walked into the room.

“Sister.”

Rhaenyra’s once sullen face grew joyous as Y/N approached her. “How long have you been here?”

“I arrived only yesterday.” Y/N leaned forward, whispering. “Where have you-”

Jaceaerys cleared his throat. “To support the war your vassals have been fighting in your absence… Your Grace.”

Rhaenys interjected. “Cole’s host has grown since riding abroad. He raised the levies of both Rosby and Stokeworth and with their combined strength sacked Duskendale.”

Ser Darklyn stepped forward. “Duskendale?”

“The city has fallen. Many Darklyn men declared for Aegon. Those who refused were put to the sword.”

“What of my father?”

“He kept his oath. Cole took his head for it.”

“Where have you been, these last days?” Y/N could tell her nephew was getting tired of his mother’s antics, eager to prove himself to her as they both had been with their father. “You vanished without so much as a word.”

“Well I apologize for my absence and the secrecy, but such was necessary. I went to King’s Landing.”

“To what possible end?”

“To meet Queen Alicent and sue for peace.”

“You saw Alicent?”

“I did.”

Y/N did not know whether to laugh or to stop her nephew.

“You could have been taken or slain!”

“I inherited eighty years of peace from my father. Before I was to end it, I needed to know there was no other path. And now I do.”

Y/N smiled, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “He would be proud, I know it.”

Rhaenyra looked melancholy at best. “Only one choice remains to me: either I win my claim or die.”

“Cole’s victories have only emboldened him. He marches on Rook’s Rest.”

“His host was just hours away when Lord Staunton’s ravens took wing.”

“Why Rook’s Rest? After Duskendale? It is but a small coastal keep.”

Y/N nodded. “A small coastal keep that is mere leagues from Dragonstone.”

“Lord Staunton is a member of this council. His castle is small and vulnerable and there for the taking. Cole knows that we have no army on the mainland.”

“He is brazen.”

“He is daring us to act.”

“We need to send a dragon.” Jace once again insisted.

“There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing. I will go.”

“You cannot.” Jace looked tired.

“I will not lose dragons to the war whilst I hide here in my castle.”

“Our ally raise their banners for you, Mother. If you die, all is lost.” Jaceaerys puffed his chest. “Send me.”

“No.” Rhaneyra laughed. Y/N laughed as well, but it had been for a different reason. It had not been long ago when Rhaenyra herself had drove her father mad, now her son did the same.

“I will burn Cole’s lines and withdraw before King’s Landing could even raise the-”

“You lack the experience.”

“Then send me, sister.” Y/N interrupted. “They will be caught off guard by the Lady Hightower attacking. I am sure of it.”

Rhaenys nodded. “Send me as well, Your Grace. Meleys is your second-largest dragon and no stranger to battle. I will meet Cole.”

“Mother-” Alyssa whispered, pulling on her sleeve. “Please do not-”

“Alyssa.” Y/N hissed. “What did I say?”

“Do not interrupt,” Alyssa whined. “But Father-”

“Alyssa.” Y/N knelt, holding her daughter’s hands in hers. “You must know I would never harm your father. Trust me, everything will be fine.” She kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Swear to me you shall stay here and look after your brother.”

“I swear.” The young girl smiled, her eyes watering. “I swear, Mother.”

The soldiers cowered in fear at the sight of Meleys and Silverwing flying above them. They began to scream in terror as they both rained fire on them. Y/N pat her dragon’s back, tightening her harness. “Sȳz, ñuha riña.” (Good, my girl.) Her eyes flickered to the tree line, her blood curdling when she saw her husband’s armor glimmering in the mid-day sun. Her heart beat faster as she watched her Aunt fly straight toward Aegon.

Sunfyre had always had a sweet disposition, and it broke Y/N to know that by the end of this battle, the dragon would not be with them. It had not, however, broken her to think of her half-brother’s death.

A deep roar echoed through the air, the hairs on her neck raising instantly. Vhagar’s head broke the clearing, heading straight for the pair of wrestling dragons. Y/N pulled the reigns, racing toward the older dragon before it could attack Meleys. “Dracarys, Silverwing, Dracarys!” A great stream of fire left her mouth, hitting Vhagar’s side. The older dragon let out a pained cry, erratically flapping her wing, desperately trying to rid herself of the pain.

Y/N flinched, gasping as she helplessly watched the wing smack Silverwing, knocking the younger dragon out in a single moment. “Silverwing, daor! Wake bē riña, wake bē!” (Silverwing, no! Wake up girl, wake up!)

Silverwing began to plummet, straight into the forest. She screamed, cried, anything to wake her dragon before they both met their deaths. “Sōvegon! gaomagon mirros, uēpa riña!” (Fly! Do anything, old girl!) The dragon remained gone to the world. Y/N sobbed, slapping her hands on her dragon’s side. “Wake bē!” (Wake up!)

Silverwing’s eyes cracked open, frantically slapping her wings, fear evident in her movements. Y/N cried, reassuring her. “Mirre kessa sagon sȳrī, Silverwing. Mirre kessa-” (All will be well, Silverwing. All will-)

Gwayne could only watch in horror at the battle that played out before him. Even during his days as a mere foot soldier, they had been civilized and honorable. There was no honor in this fight, in this war, in the men leading it. Criston Cole, who treated his soldiers with disdain, also treated his new position as Lord Hand with equal care. Now here the Dornish man stood, ordering Gwayne around as if he was just a mere foot soldier once more. Not to mention, his wife left him and had planned to leave without so much as a letter. He would have thought after their many years of blissful union, she would have thought to tell him of her plan. That had hurt more than her departure.

In the end, he was not shocked she had gone. His wife was loyal, and he could not blame her for her actions. He would have done the same for his own sister.

When the servants had told him his children had also left, he had truly become a wreck. He had been sitting at his place at their dining table when they’d told him. Their favorites had been already placed on their plates, now cold, while he sobbed in the dining hall. And there he stood, feeling just as empty, when he saw his wife’s dragon emerge from the clouds.

By the gods.

He swore then not only to his family but to himself, that he would be with her again, with his children again, even if that meant betraying his family. Not that his sister’s children or his own father had acted as a true family in the first place. Family was a system of connections to them, to the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms. He and his wife, the woman that she was, had together made it much more.

She was, in his eyes, perfection itself.

He remembered, not long ago, she had convinced him to fly to Dragonstone. When they had been there, laying on the lawn in front, she’d told him what she wanted for the future. She swore to him, mere weeks into their courtship, that if they married, their children would be good, instead of the spoiled nobility they’d come to know, spreading greed and hurt.

That had made him surge forward, kissing her soundly.

He kissed her as often as he could after that moment. That moment, that promise, had been what made him ask the King for her hand in marriage days later.

She was too good for this world, a world that was constantly fighting. And her family, he told himself, she was too good for them too.

The same went for his children.

And now, as he watched his wife’s dragon fall from the sky, one thing raced through his mind. He needed her like the very air that filled his lungs. He left his men without a second thought, racing across the battlefield, his only goal to reach her.

“Y/N” A voice rang through the clearing Silverwing had created. “Y/N?”

She groaned, her ears ringing. Her entire body ached from the impact, her head felt pulsing as she rolled over. “Who-” Everything came rushing back, the battle, her aunt, Silverwing falling. Forcing herself up, she reached down, grabbing her dagger from her leg holster. “Whoever you are, think twice before-”

“Y/N!” Gwayne jumped off his horse, running toward her. “I saw you falling, and I-”

“Get back.” She glared. “I do not need your assistance.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You just fell from-” His arms flailed toward the sky. “I thought you were dead!”

“I am sure you would have been thrilled.” She turned her back, scanning the woods for any sign of Silverwing. She loosened her harness while she was falling, scared that Silverwing would crush her, would crush-

“I feel sorry for you.”

“You feel sorry for- Ah!” Her stomach twisted, and she winced, caressing it lightly. “It’s alright, darling.”

Gwayne’s voice was a mere whisper, so close that his breath grazed her neck. “What did you say?”

“I said-” She whipped around, glaring. “You-”

“Are you-” He looked hopeful, excited even.

“Gwayne, do me the courtesy of not revealing my location to your precious Lord Hand.”

“Do you truly think so little of me?” He sounded desperate. “I love you, I have for as long as I have known you, and it-” He grabbed her hand, laying it over his heart. “I have only lived for you and for our children, you must know that?”

She ripped her hand from his hold, her eyes tearing up. “I apologize for assuming otherwise. I should have told you, but I did not, and you cannot fault me for that!”

“I am not faulting you! I have not held it against you, even when our children flew after you! I knew in my heart, that you were right, that you were doing what your heart led you to do. It is one of your best qualities, the very thing that drew me to you in the first place.” His eyes were tearing up as well. “You- you make me-”

“What?” She yelled. “What exactly do I make you? Angry, upset, murderous?”

“Crazed!” He yelled back, walking up to her and grabbing her face with his hands. “I love you, desperately!”

Tears fell from her eyes faster than ever, she could not tell what exactly had caused it. It could be the exhaustion, or the adrenaline hitting her all at once. Or perhaps it was because when her eyes met his, she felt as if she was a young girl again, being wooed by the handsome knight. “Gwayne…” She grasped his hand tightly. “Come with me. Leave this all behind. I know the loss of your seat in the Lord’s Council will hurt, but you’ve never loved the pressure it brings you. Our children…” She smiled. “Will be happy around their family, around the very people who will never judge them. My love-” She took a deep breath, her eyes full of desperation. “I need you.”

His arm wrapped around her waist. “I-”

“If you do not wish to come with me, just say it.” Her eyes were red by now, there was no doubt. “Perhaps we should go our seper-”

“I will do anything you ask of me. Anything.”

“Then come with me.” She pleaded. “Come wit-”

Gwayne collided his lips against hers, pulling her closer than she’d ever thought possible. Her heart began to pound, harder than it ever had during a kiss, and the next thing she knew, the world was going dark, a dragon’s snout nudging her side before everything went black.

Bright orange light shone through the curtains, a warm breeze dancing through the room. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, her heart beaming at the sight in front of her. She groaned, pushing herself to sit up in her bed. Her voice was hoarse as she spoke. “My darlings.”

“Mother!” Alyssa all but jumped out of her chair. Gaemon, her perfect boy, was peacefully asleep in the seat beside her, his little fingers reaching out for hers. Her eyes watered, grabbing his hand gently.

Gwayne was pacing on the terrace, his auburn hair glowing in the sun. He looked like an angel, a worried angel indeed.

Alyssa hugged her mother tightly, her face buried in her neck. “You’re awake!”

She nodded, grinning. “Alyssa, will you please take your brother on a tour of the castle?”

“But-” Y/N raised an eyebrow, caressing her daughter’s cheek. “Yes, Mother.” Alyssa groaned, walking around the bed and impatiently tapping her brother’s shoulder. “Gaemon, wake up.”

“But what if Mother-” He rubbed his eyes, jumping onto Y/N without a second thought. “Mama!”

“My boy.” She kissed his temple delicately. “Run along with your sister. I will be here when you return, I swear it.”

She waited until they’d left the room to stand. Walking across the cold stone floor, she stood at the threshold of the balcony, leaning her head against the archway. “Gwayne, there’s something I must tell you.” He made no effort to face her, her stomach curling. “It’s rather delicate…”

“I know.” He stopped, staring at her, his eyes wide. “I know.”

“How?”

“The maester.” He stepped forward, his voice steady as he gestured toward her stomach. “May I?”

She nodded, words refusing to leave her. He knew. During the fall, she wasn’t sure the babe would survive, but with the nauseous feeling in her stomach, there was no longer a doubt. He knelt, leaning his head gently against her. “Hello, little one.” Y/N’s eyes began to water. “You are quite the brave one, going into battle with your mother so young. When you leave her womb, we shall exchange battle stories.”

She laughed, a tear falling down her cheek. “Please, do not be upset with me.”

He looked up, tears falling down his cheeks. “Upset? My love, another child with you is never a reason to be upset.” He stood, leaning his forehead against hers. “I am a truly blessed man. To be your husband is the closest a man can be to the heavens themselves.”

She smiled, kissing his lips gently, her heart almost breaking all over again as she pushed him toward the door. “You must leave before my sister knows you are here.”

He laughed at her, actually laughed at her. “My darling girl, how do you believe you got here? I carried you into this room myself.”

“So-” Her lips tickled against his as she spoke. “My sister-”

“I pledged my support to her as soon as I knew you would survive. I am a man of my word.” He leaned down, pulling his lips to hers. “I will never leave you.”

Y/N smiled into his kiss. “I love you.” He grinned, spinning her around. She laughed, smacking his arm playfully. “Gwayne, put me down. The babe-”

“The babe?” The couple looked over, smiling at their children. Alyssa stepped forward. “What babe?”

“I-” Y/N hid her face in her husband’s neck. “I’m embarrassed.”

Gwayne laughed, shaking his head as he addressed their children. “Your mother is with child.”

Alyssa groaned, even as she smiled widely. “Again, Mother?”

Gaemon’s head fell to the side. “What does with child mean, Father?”

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motthe · 8 months ago

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hiii !! just read like ,, a BUNCH of ur lumen au stuff ,,,, truly i am brainrotted now because i'm just thinking of so many different scenarios involving the lumens and i am just . EXCITED !!! its SUCHHHH a good concept im a big big sucker for soulmate stuff ,,,,

i was just wondering how you feel about jayvik x reader ,,,, TWO lumens ,,,,,,,, idk if you write for anything poly or not, but id love to hear your thoughts on it !!! either through headcanons or a ficlet, whichever you feel like :]

my first viktor x reader x jayce piece i’ve ever written… wait is this my first poly drabble?? it might be actually! i hope it’s fun to read ♥️

warnings: fem!reader, slight negative feelings of not being good enough, but overall fluff!!!

The scientific jargon that came with having not one but both of your fated being inventors was overwhelming. The words they tossed around became an entire other language since you’d all gotten closer. It left you feeling unbearably empty-headed, wondering why the universe would bond you to such intelligent men.

They were already changing an entire city with their ideas, and you would bet the world would soon bear their mark as well. In comparison, you were a meager artist making ends meet at festivals and street corners. Sure, maybe your work could be seen on a few shop signs or covering a wall or two in a cafe, but that was as famous as you’d ever be—a stranger to the passing eye.

“We need to widen the cylindrical chamber, maybe add an exhaust pipe to help with the cooldown.”

Jayce’s voice slipped through your head, smooth and confident and making no sense. You’d gotten rather good and tuning out the meat of the conversations, only recognizing the tones and emotions.

The heavy, warm accent of Viktor’s replied, swirling in the back of your mind as your pencil swiped over the heavy parchment against your thighs.

Recently, they’d begun inviting you to their lab to spend your free time in their company. There were two desks to choose from, though they were usually piled high with blueprints or notes. Jayce had moved a couch into the space for your comfort, placed in the corner and under a window, well away from any dangerous work they had their hands on, though they usually took anything too precarious into another portion of the building.

Their assistant, Sky, was in and out, always double-checking if you needed anything. She was a kind young woman, curly hair and glasses and a smile that made anyone feel at home. She brought you your own coffee and snacks, promising it was no trouble since she was already bringing them to Viktor and Jayce, anyway.

“You actually eat them,” she chuckled. “Jayce will if he notices they’re there, but it’s a long shot most days.”

You understood what she meant, seeing how focused the men became on their gadgets and studies. You’re sure if you got up and left they wouldn’t notice for a good, long while.

Today was one of those days, though there was peace in your private little corner as you sketched away. You squinted over the top of your sketchbook, skimming the outline of Viktor’s goggles pressed into his thick, winding hair and quickly adding the little licks of tresses to the paper before he was moving again.

You switched targets, taking in Jayce’s side profile and adding a bit more depth to his eyebrow and under eye.

Taking a moment to look between both drawings, you were hit with their beauty once more.

Jayce was deemed the academy’s “pretty boy,” with his strong jaw and perfect smile. He was a clean cut handsome, peak health and built with broad shoulders. He knew how to use those looks to his advantage.

On the other end was Viktor. He was a haunting beauty, sleek and angular. If he had the same charisma with speaking to the masses as Jayce did, that accent would gain him more than a fair share of admirers, but his confidence and skills lied elsewhere. He had a sharp eye and wore his emotions rather loudly on his face.

Where Jayce had faint lines from how much he smiled, Viktor had a feather soft crease between his brows from how often he furrowed them. Where the golden boy’s hands were always warm, his partner’s was cold. They made such gorgeous opposites, yet they held so many comparisons in mannerisms when it came to their shared hobbies and passions.

It was safe to say you adored them and their intricacies.

Taking a slow, deep breath you checked both shoulders before moving the tuft of black in your periphery into your hand. Gold shimmered between the dark mass that made up Jayce’s lumen, settling deeper into your palm as you raised your arms and stretched.

When you moved your drawing pad to the side, you spotted Viktor’s wedged between the apex of your thighs. Swallowing your gasp, you scooped it up, praying it hadn’t been smushed the entire time.

“When did you get there?” you whispered, rubbing your pointer finger into the tawny fuzz of his light. His lumen had always had a bit more give to it, leaving it to wedge itself under your leg or your shirt collar. Viktor’s preferred to be as close as possible to you, even if it left his lumen squished.

Jayce’s lumen was firmer, still soft but in a velveteen sort of sensation. It was bigger, taking up a good portion of your palm. Now your second month with it, you’d learned if it wasn’t on one of your shoulders, it was likely circling your head. His never went far either.

You wondered if you’d received Jayce’s lumen first, if it would have more of an attachment to you. As it stood, you’d had Viktor’s since you were young while he’d held Jayce’s and Jayce yours. The three of you being tied together had become quite the story as there went many outward poly fateds in Piltover, but luckily the gawking had passed after the first handful of weeks.

It was only a few days ago that Viktor confessed he’d been rather confused when he’d met Jayce and the lumens had flashed against one another.

“There were no similarities,” he’d explained, holding up one long, thin finger for your lumen to rest on as it hovered in front of him. The three of you were cozied up in your lackluster apartment—a studio more than a bedroom but it had a nice pullout couch and plenty of blankets to rest on in front of your heater. “Jayce was ecstatic, of course, but I was ruminating over your lumen when we first met.”

“I thought he hated me,” Jayce had murmured, breath warm against your ear as you laughed.

“I did not hate you,” huffed Viktor on your other side, rolling his eyes as he dropped his hand, your lumen resting within. “I wasn’t aware we had a third, yet—it was puzzling.”

“I had to explain it to him,” Jayce chuckled. “One of my old friends was in a poly.”

“And, then, he was even more ecstatic,” Viktor sighed but there was affection in it. “I thought you’d follow him home some nights.”

“And leave you all by yourself?” You laid your head on his shoulder, grinning as his eyes fled. It was still so early into the relationship, and he grew flustered with physical affection whereas Jayce sought it every chance. “I’d never.”

“It’s better now, we’re all together,” Jayce hummed, lowering to lay his head in your lap. You brushed your hand through his hair, smiling as his lumen lit up in Viktor’s lap.

“Yes,” Viktor had agreed, careful as he laid his head against yours. “It all feels…complete.”

Your chest warmed at the memory as you held both of their lumens in your hands, giving a fleeting kiss to each. Viktor’s snuggled happily into your palm while Jayce’s pulsed a happy gold before flying off, likely to check in with Viktor.

As your eyes lifted to follow its journey, you jumped when you found Jayce smiling from a few feet away by his desk. He seemed to be shuffling through some papers. Your lumen floated just nice his head, twinkling in the sunlight that shone through the windows behind you.

“Didn’t see you there,” you said, stretching your legs out before standing. Viktor’s lumen left your hand, keeping close to your neck.

“I hope you’re not bored.” He opened an arm up and you approached. You still grew giddy with any chance to be wrapped in his embrace, quick to accept the invitation.

“I like spending time here with you both,” you assured, giggling as he bent down to kiss your forehead. “Gives me plenty of practice.”

His eyes lit up, one of those dark eyebrows lifting. “Oh?”

“I know what you’re about to ask—”

“Please?” His arm wrapped tighter around your waist. “I wanna see.”

“They’re just rough sketches!” you laughed, pushing against his chest.

“C’mon, I bet they’re great! I’m sure Viktor wants to see them, too.”

You shook your head, a mess of giggles as he wrapped both arms around you and slowly edged his way towards the couch.

“Did someone call my name?” asked Viktor, turning from the machine he was working on. A torch was in his hand but luckily still off for the time being. Jayce’s lumen was sitting on his knee.

“Viktor tell her you want to see her art!” Jayce goaded.

“Tell him he needs to wait for a real piece,” you threw back, wrinkling your nose at him as he stuck his tongue out.

“You’ve been drawing us?” Viktor’s voice seeped with awe and innocent curiosity. “May we see?”

Jayce bounced his eyebrows at you, all too smug. “Told you.”

“Fine—fine!” you sighed, throwing your hands up and wiggling out of his hold as you went to grab your canvas notebook. “Don’t gripe when you see your half-finished faces.”

The tap of Viktor’s crutch intermingled with Jayce’s footsteps as they met you by the couch. As you handed over your work, Viktor was the one to accept it as Jace stood over him. Both their eyes went wide at the current page and your hand went straight to your arm as you shuffled in place.

“Those are just warmups, so…”

“Warmups?” Jayce breathed, looking up from the notebook. “These are amazing!”

“I have to agree, the detail is astounding,” Viktor hummed, looking to turn back a page. He caught your eyes before he did. “Is this all right? Tell us if we’re overstepping.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m used to people watching me draw on the street, it’s just… I don’t know.” You shrugged, bringing a hand up as Viktor’s lumen rubbed against your neck. Jayce’s was just settling on your shoulder again. “I care about what you guys think. It’s not anything big like you do, but…”

“Big?” Jayce echoed, both of their sights set on you.

“Well, it’s not as important as what you both do is what I mean.”

“Of course it’s important,” Viktor argued, expression stern.

“But it’s art!” you laughed, waving off the sudden seriousness growing from them. “It’s helping a bunch of people like your creations do. That’s much more important.”

“Art is just as, if not more, important,” he continued, passing the notebook to Jayce. “We are helping people in different ways, but do not do yourself the disservice and think what you create is anything less than what we do.”

“He’s right,” Jayce agreed, holding up your work. “This? This speaks to people. Your work can bring life to a room and lets people save a special moment in time.”

“Okay, don’t butter me up so much or I’ll melt!” you squeaked, too embarrassed to look at them as they chuckled and continued flipping through your sketches. It wasn’t long before the three of you were on the couch, both of them pointing out their favorites.

“Is my hair truly that messy?” Viktor grumbled, raising a hand to it. “Perhaps I should cut it.”

“No, I like it,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “You twirl it when you’re thinking! It’s so sweet.”

He blinked at you. “I do?”

Jayce whistled and you turned and gasped, completely forgetting the drawing you’d done of him in the forge. It was more from memory so your imagination had left it a bit more detailed than the rest.

“Okay, that’s enough!”

You swiped for the book, shutting it as Jayce laughed. Viktor rolled his eyes, smirking as he nudged your shoulder.

“Should I be worried of any scandalous pieces of me in there?”

You pouted, holding the notebook tighter to your chest.

“Oh?” Jayce breathed. “She didn’t say no!”

“You two are the worst!” you groaned, unable to help yourself from smiling as they both laughed in tandem.

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bisexualiteaa · 8 months ago

Text

I’d let the world burn for you

Silco x fem reader (ANGST!)

Synopsis: When Jinx undergoes shimmer surgery to save her life, but what if it was his lover instead of Jinx?

CW: season 1 spoilers, established relationship, reader sustains a near fatal injury, heavy talk of needles, shimmer and its effects, brief mentions of bl00d, brief mentions of a knïfe, talk of drügs, surgery, angst with good ending, possible grammar/spelling errors, proofread

A few great songs that I listened to while writing this incase yall are interested! I truly can’t recommend this soundtrack enough, it’s so perfect ♥️

AN: this idea came to me spontaneously and I kind of just wanted to see where my mind could take it! It is 1am however as I post this so please be kind. 😭 Also felt like changing it up a little bit with some angst thrown into the mix, I’m enjoying writing for Silco but of course, asks are open if yall want anything in particular! As always, I hope you all enjoy! ♥️

Where did it all go wrong? It was the question he’d been asking himself for far too long now, wondering what he could have possibly done, how this unspeakable act could have been avoided. Yet through all the possibilities there wasn’t an answer he’d come to that satisfied him enough. No answer that brought him enough peace.

One moment he was in his chair, leaned over his desk with a drink in hand as he looked over the papers that sat in front of him. The next, Sevika was carrying your limp body that sat unmoving in her arms. Now here you were, coldly strapped to a surgical table, making you look more like a test subject for something horrific rather than a patient seeking care, your breathing so faint that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, afraid that if he did you may stop breathing all together. “How did this happen?!” Silco asked, hands gripping the edge of the table so tight that his knuckles were turning white, anger heavily entwined in his tone as he looked to Sevika. He needed answers and hated that he didn’t have a single one. “I don’t know, I was inside when it happened. I’d heard what sounded like a scuffle from not too far but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Figured maybe a topsider had tread into the wrong territory, or was a deal gone bad. Then when I stepped outside I just saw her lying there” Sevika answered, looking to you as your body lay bound to the table uncaringly, a pang of sympathy in her gaze as she looked upon you in such a tragic state. As much as she didn’t understand your dynamic with Silco, she couldn’t deny the fact that she’d started to warm up to you a little over time. Seeing Silco happy because of you gave her a semblance of peace, and everyone took notice of the way that you seemed to brighten up the place a bit whenever you were around. She admired the way that he was willing to burn the world to cinders and ash for you, how you were the calm to his raging storm. You complimented one another perfectly. Despite her lack of understanding of your relationship, you didn’t deserve what had been done to you, and they both had a feeling it was likely a strategic hit. One meant to rattle Silco, throw him off his game and distract him, yet all it seemed to do was fuel his already raging fire. “And you didn’t even think to check?!” He asked, blind rage flowing through him like the very blood in his veins. “How was I supposed to know it was her? You can’t expect me to keep my ear out every time there’s a fight! For fucks sake, they happen too often here!” She defended, making him sigh heavily with agitation. She was right, it was rather unreasonable of him to expect such a thing but he felt so helpless in this moment, he couldn’t stop himself from lashing out. Seeing you hurt to such a point as this made him angry. Ultimately he was out of control in this situation, and it left him seeing red.

He smoothed his hands through his hair as he looked up at the ceiling to the bright lights, trying to collect himself the best he could for the time being. “Find who did this” he ordered, ready to give whoever did this to you as taste of his wrath. “Are you sure you want to stay here for this? I can watch over her if you’d rather. I can’t imagine this is going to be easy on either of you, especially her” she offered, knowing this would be hard for him to watch, and even harder on you to have to go through it. “No, I need to be here. I can handle it, I need to know she’s okay” he replied before looking to you, grabbing your hand gently in his, touching you so softly and carefully as if you were made of glass and could shatter at any moment. He wasn’t there to aid you when you’d gotten hurt, the guilt of it ate away at him, forcing him to stay here with you now, even if the sight of you in such pain tore him apart inside. “Who could do such a thing as awful as this to someone this kind?” He asked, his question rhetorical but gods how he wished he had an answer. Perhaps it was better if he didn’t, but it baffled him nonetheless. “When you find who did this, be sure to send them to me. An act this egregious will suffer a great consequence” he finished, watching her nod her head silently in acknowledgment before walking out to find who did this to you.

“This process will be…demanding. Sometimes death is a far greater mercy” Singe spoke as he walked over to his tools, ensuring everything was prepped for your procedure. “She can take it. I know she can” Silco replied, looking to the scarred man as he pulled out a syringe and a vial, filling it with a yellowish-green liquid. “Before I begin, I must know; are you prepared to lose her?” Singe asked, a question that made Silco furrow his brows in confusion as he looked to the doctor. What kind of question is that? It was a preposterous question, one he couldn’t possibly think of any other response to than the one he was about to give. As he was about to speak, he heard you sputter into a short coughing fit, blood splattering along your lower lip and chin as you winced and groaned in pain, writhing beneath the binds that held you to the table. Silco’s eyes widened with a gasp as you did, all but hurling himself toward you to check and see if you were okay. He leaned over you, hand cupping your cheek as a look of concern flashed across his face, trying to read your expression and watching your breathing as he called your name in the hopes it would get you to look at him. He wasn’t looking for a sign, anything to show him that you were okay. Yet your eyes were too heavy to open, body too weak to respond the way he wanted you to.

“She won’t die, doctor. She can’t” he finally responded, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek as his hand smoothed through your hair, sweeping it from your face in attempts to keep it out of your eyes should they open again before the process began. He hovered over you protectively, thumb caressing your skin in a soothing manner. It was a soft gesture you’d always done to him, a gesture he’d adopted from you after the countless times you’d done it to him. From wiping the tear from his eye after his injections, to simply doing so to grab his attention, it was something so soft, so gentle, so you. It only felt right to return the gesture. “I understand” the doctor replied, pulling out a chair, the hiss of the metal scratching against the floor a vile sound that filled the air for thankfully only a moment before he trailed over to the table and behind Silco. “But please understand, this is for your own sanity” Singe said as he injected half of the syringe of liquid into Silco’s neck, helping him fall to the chair he had pulled out. The dizziness and weakness had already begun to set in, the world moving around him slower and more blurry than normal. Everything was slightly muffled as if he were underwater, finally making it click what he had injected him with. It was a sedative.

You gasped for air as your eyes opened, coughs sputtering from your throat that felt dry as sandpaper. Your eyes scanned your surroundings, fear evident in your gaze as you looked to the bright lights then searched your surroundings, panic striking you as you fought against the straps holding you against the table. You yelped in pain as an injection was soon pushed into your veins, causing you to look down at what was happening. The bright purple liquid shining beneath your skin told you that it was Shimmer coursing through you now. It left trails up your arm from the injection site, purple and black trails that looked as if it were reviving your cells and killing them at the same time. It was terrifying, and the pain was insurmountable, leaving you to groan in pain and muscles tensed as you squirmed on the cold, metal table.

For a moment, the pain seemed to let up long enough for you to turn your head to the other side of the room to see Silco in a chair, slumped over. He looked tired, but something wasn’t quite right, he wouldn’t be so tired as to sleep while this was happening. Your breathing was harsh, ragged even as you tried to focus on his expression but the ebbing pain, mixed with the effects of the shimmer as it reached your blood stream and found its way through every vein and artery now made it nearly impossible. “Sil…” you called out for him weakly, attempting to reach out towards him but your hands were bound to the table, leaving you to lie there helplessly. You felt so cold, so sore, but above all else, you felt so alone. Was this death? Rebirth maybe? You weren’t sure, all you knew was that it was extremely unpleasant, your body and mind screaming for it to be over. Unfortunately your painless moment had quickly come to an end as more of the iridescent liquid seared through your veins once more, only serving to turn the veins within your arm more and more angry as you winced in pain. You gasped and sputtered as it climbed up your arm, past your shoulder into your neck before spilling from your tear ducts and mouth as you coughed, desperate for air to fill your lungs. You felt as if you were nearly drowning, as if you were being given far too much for your body to be able to withstand. A shrill, excruciating scream escaped you as you begged for it to stop, detesting cries leaving your lips as agony consumed you whole. It felt like torture and all you could do was endure it. “I understand this must be painful. I’m afraid it will only get worse” the doctor spoke, his apathetic words doing nothing to soothe your pain or calm you as he brought another needle to your cheek. “No! No, please no…stop!” You yelled, trying your hardest to jerk away from the needle but it was no use, like a caged animal, there was no escape from this. You closed your eyes as he pricked you again, making you cry out once more in pain as your body was shocked and overwhelmed from the sheer amount of trauma being done to it. He only seemed to smile as he did all this to you, watching you writhe in agony and cry out in pain only seemed to bring him joy in a way that you loathed. Everything around you was getting fuzzy at the edges, you couldn’t tell what was real and what was not. From there, it was all a blur. Your mind blacking out from the immense amount of pain in such a concentrated period of time. It had felt like an eternity before it all was finally over.

Silco opened his eye to see his hands resting against his thighs, the world spinning around him as he did his best to shake the effects of the drug he was injected with, trying to ground himself to reality. How much time had passed? Was the procedure done? Had he healed you? All questions that he again, did not have the answers to, but at least they were easier to access being that he was here in the room with you. He looked up from the floor to the table, seeing you were no longer bound in those awful straps, but that your eyes were still closed, not looking much different than when he first brought you in here. He groaned with confusion as he fought to catch his breath that seemed a little harder to obtain than normal, stumbling to his feet and towards the doctor who was currently washing a blade with his back turned to Silco. He turned momentarily when Silco pushed him against the sink, grasping him with all the energy and strength he could muster, looking upon him angrily with a fire raging in his eyes. “What have you done?” He rasped out, voice laced with vexation and eyes filled with malice as he waited for the doctor to answer him. “I saved her life” he responded matter-of-factly, making him only scowl deeper as he quickly snatched the knife from the sink and pointed it at Singe, not believing him.

“Sil…?” You called out weakly, voice hoarse from all your coughing, screaming and crying but just loud enough for him to catch. His eyes widened with surprise as he heard you, head turning to look at you reaching out for him. Your eyes searched around the room for him as you’d only just returned to consciousness. In a moment’s notice the knife came clambering to the ground as he stumbled over to you, doing the best he could to get there quickly despite the effects of the drug still weighing pretty heavy in his system. He grabbed your hand as he made it, resting his other against the table and using it to hold him up as he hovered over you protectively again. Silco felt you weakly squeeze his hand back, prompting him to pull you up into a hug so fast you could hardly recognize it had happened. “Thank gods you’re here” you spoke. He was so overcome with joy and relief to see that you were okay, or at least responsive, which compared to how you were before, was already a massive improvement. “I’m here, darling. I’m here, I’ll always be here” he assured, his hand smoothing over the back of your head as he held you protectively in his arms. He nearly cried as he felt you wrap your arms around him in return, kissing your head gently as his heart raced, pounding harshly within his chest from all the adrenaline coursing through him.

His heart broke as he saw the effects the procedure had done to your body, looking to the purple and black streaks running up your arms, tainting your perfect skin. He’d recognized those effects from anywhere. Shimmer. Rage overtook him once more as he turned to the doctor upon his realization. “You used Shimmer on her?!” He asked, voice raised in disbelief that he would use such a harsh, untamed chemical on you under the guise of trying to help you. “It saved her, didn’t it?” The doctor replied, making him seethe with exasperation. “It could have KILLED her!” Silco spat, not taking kindly to Singe’s apathetic tone, but your soft touch brought him back to reality. Your hand cupped his cheek, turning him to face you in the hopes that you could soothe his anger, and you managed to do so with ease. His eyes fell to yours as he turned, that wicked, violent look in his gaze beginning to fade away as he looked at you, seeing a new shade residing in your irises than before. He was doing his best to not allow the scars that had climbed up your arm to your neck to break this tender moment, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt that he caused you this pain, he caused these scars, these changes. Yet you continued to smile at him as if he hung the stars in the sky above. The atrocities he would commit for you to see that smile stay stretched across your sweet lips. To keep you safe and happy. He would kill for you, die for you. “It’s okay, I’m here love. There is no need for such violence, I promise” you spoke, your kind voice so strained, but you were right, he had saved you, something he was thankful for, he just wished it could have been brought about any other way. He fought so long and so hard to keep you as far away from it as possible, yet here you stand, saved by it. It was a conflicting feeling. Now all that was left was to find the vile person caused all of this to come about, but perhaps that was better suited for another time, another day. For now, all he wanted was to get you home safe, to enjoy the time he has with you now that he wasn’t sure he would have when he and Sevika had first brought you here. You needed the rest, your body was tired and so sore. Your recovery was his top priority, so for now his vengeance would have to come another day, but he could rest easy for now knowing that you were still here with him. The world would live to survive another day, but make no mistake, he would burn it all to the ground for you if you asked him to.

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ghostlyferrettarot · 5 months ago

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🖤Masterlist🖤🖤Masterlist 2🖤

💢🍷☎️♡Pile 1:

When people get to know you, they feel like they can be themselves without feeling judge. The way you speak and interact with others allows you to be genuine without fear of criticism, and that inspires others to do the same. You are like a kind of emotional "catalyst" to put it in a way, inviting those around you to let go of the masks they put on others. You may not realize it, but many times, when someone is with you, that person feels a safe space, a refuge where they don't have to worry about meeting expectations or showing an idealized version of themselves, they just are themselves; you could also be someone really persuasive pile 1, so use this in your favor, its one of your many talents.

You are like a mentor for others who need to remember that it's okay to be imperfect, it's okay not to be perfect all the time, and it's okay to be authentic, even if that means being vulnerable. Perhaps you have felt pressured at some point by other people's expectations, or maybe you have questioned whether it's okay to be so genuine, especially when social media and society in general seem to value appearances. Remember that your worth does not depend on what others think or say. Your essence is not in what you project, but in what you really are. Being yourself is what allows you to connect with people who value your true nature. The more you allow yourself to be you without fear, the more you will grow as a person and, therefore, the more you will shine <3.

💢🍷☎️♡Pile 2:

The people around you feel safe, understood, and open up to you effortlessly. This gift is very powerful, because it is not only something that attracts others, but it also makes you see yourself as a born leader. People want to be around you, not because you make them feel like they have to be like you, but because you make them feel comfortable in their own skin. You have the gift of empowering others just by your presence, I feel like you are already a really unique person, who is not understood by everyone, but the ones that get you, GET YOU pile 2; I honestly love your energy, its giving alien vibes.

Your leadership ability is not based on control, but on the confidence you transmit. You may not consider yourself a conventional leader, but somehow, people look to you for guidance, not because you ask for it, but because they feel that your vision is clear and your energy offers them stability. Don't feel like you have to change your energy to fit what others expect of you. Your charisma is authentic, and it's what makes people want to be around you. There's no need to try hard or do something that doesn't come from the heart. Just keep being you, because what you are inside, that calm, that quiet confidence, is exactly what the world needs. Your ideas will be heard and they don't need to be understood by eevryone; you will create and find you people pile 2, belive me <3

💢🍷☎️♡Pile 3:

I feel like When people cross your path, something inside them changes. I don't know if you've noticed, but your way of being and thinking inspires others in ways you can't always see. The cards show me that you have an energy that makes others feel like they can dream bigger, like they can be themselves, without fear of judgment. And the best thing of all is that you don't have to do much to do it: just be you. That energy you radiate, that creativity so fluid and natural, gives others permission to break free from their own limitations. Your way of seeing the world opens up a space for them to think differently, to question what they think, how they act; on a side note you could be a great politician pile 3.

And that is so powerful, And the most beautiful thing is that you do it without looking for it, without effort. It is just the way you live, the way you express yourself. You may sometimes feel like your ideas are too crazy, too “weird” to be understood, but that's your magic <3. What's inside you has the ability to change things, even if it's only in the hearts of the people who are close. And that's what the cards want you to remember: your creativity is invaluable, and the world needs what you have to offer, let yourself be seen pile 3, share your thoughts, art, talents, etc. I would love to see all your creativity being spread around the world <3

🖤🍷☎️Thank you for reading and tell me if it resonated🍷☎️🖤

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mv1simp · 1 year ago

Text

I have heard your prayers dark!max simps, rejoice now and go forth in peace 🙏

What You Need ♥️

Max Verstappen x Friend’s Girlfriend!Reader

I got everything you want with me, I do everything he does times three. he’s what you want, what you want (I’m what you need)

You've just started dating Daniel and find yourself spending a lot of time with his old team mate, Max Verstappen - who's dark gaze and wandering hands always seem to be on you. It's okay though, Max cares for Daniel as a friend and by extension you too, right? You have no idea Max had already decided long ago you were the perfect girl...just not for Daniel, but for him instead.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin! reader, manipulative dark!max, size kink, cheating, very dubcon, somnophilia, drunk!reader, Daniel is a bad bf for plot, 4k WC

Max Verstappen stares at you across the crowded room, the dozens of drunk and dancing people at the house party he was at doing nothing to distract him. You’re giggling prettily at something a friend had said, lifting an almost empty wine bottle to your pink glossed lips and not noticing the heated gaze of the 3 time F1 world champion. As always. He tilts his head, a lion eyeing a baby deer, studying your profile and ignoring the attempts at conversation people make to him.

You’re a mystery to someone like Max - a guy who always has whatever he wanted. He drove the fastest cars in the world, fucked the hottest models, and lived in a penthouse in a city with the most expensive real estate. Everything he desired was at his fingertips - except you, Daniel's Riccardio's newest girl. He had no idea how his former team mate had found you amongst all the trashy influencers and plastic models in Monaco. You’d recently started coming to the paddock, quietly cheering on Daniel in his RB garage several spots down from Max's own first place spot - and that was where Max met you the first time. You were a natural beauty, so sweet and innocent, easily got along with the others on the grid, and were smart, too - studying to be a doctor. And to top it all of you didn't seem to even care that Max was Max Verstappen, world champion - which only intrigued him more.

The first time you talked was when his car had skidded out badly on the RedBull practice track, leaving a nasty cut on his forearm that you had patiently sutured and bandaged, sweetly explaining how to look after his wound with a concerned expression. You really were the perfect girl, and Max had decided right there and then that he had to have you for himself. You were wasted on Daniel - and besides, you two had barely started seeing each other a few weeks ago, just “casually” the Australian has said. Daniel was an idiot for not making it official with you. Ah well, all the more easier for Max to claim you instead.

But you never seemed to have eyes for anyone but Daniel, which perplexed the Dutchman to no end. Max was the one in first place, in the top team that every driver dreamed about, the richest and fastest one on the grid - while Daniel drove as a second rate RB driver, a shadow in the glory of its primary Red Bull team. Yet you'd be beaming at Daniel excitedly as he finished P12, while only shyly saying a brief congratulations to Max in P1 at the afterparty. Max was never one for losing, though - he just needed time to get you to give in and accept everything he could offer you. There was no way you would be happy with a 2nd rate driver - no, he knew what a diamond like you really wanted was someone like him. And it had been easy enough to be around you more and more under the guise of hanging out with Daniel.

Like that time he'd invited you both to his yacht for New Years'. He'd seen your eyes light up in awe at the luxurious vessel, and later than evening when everyone had gone to bed but you were still out admiring the stars, he easily came upto you, large hand grazing your back, standing a lot closer than one might to a girl his mate was dating.

He'd casually pulled a diamond choker out from his pocket and held it out to you on a thick finger. Your eyes had gotten wide at the beautiful gift - big, crystal clear jewels with a dangling pearl "M" in the centre. To say thank you for fixing my cut, he explained. And the M for your last name, right? You had blushed and stuttered uncomfortably at the romantic gift, refusing to accept it - Max, is this Cartier? Oh my god, how expensive was this?

Max joked that his hands were a multimillion asset and you deserved a fitting gift for saving them. Besides, it's rare in my line of work to meet someone so genuine who actually cares for me. You'll take it, right? Since we're friends now? You'd felt guilty at his pouting expression, hesitating but having no choice but to say yes - it was just a friendly thank you, after all, right? He stepped behind you to put it on, his lips brushing your ear as he bends down to your petite height. He doesn't miss the way you shiver at his touch and smirks as he traces a large palm along your neck before bringing the clasp together. Wow, Max, it's truly so beautiful, thank you, you breathe, entranced as you look at the jewels - Daniel was so lucky to have such a caring friend! You completely miss how Max gazes down your cute summery off-shoulder dress, his height behind you giving him the perfect view of your delicious tits - where a pearl M now dangles just above them. He feels a delicious satisfaction at the sight of you in his necklace, on his yacht, and within his arms. Yeah, it's beautiful, he agrees, smiling with just a touch of darkness. Looks great on you. You smile back innocently, not realising the M around your neck didn’t stand for your last name but rather for the M in Max.

Another time, you and Daniel had joined Max's extended group for a weekend retreat to St Tropez. Max hadn't seen you in a while, since you had been busy sitting final exams. But the wait had been worth it when he saw you in your cute little baby pink bikini and gold waist chain. And it had only gotten better when he found you later, dozing alone on a sunbed in the Spanish heat, your idiotic boyfriend nowhere in sight and leaving you unprotected to Max's predatory advances. You blinked your eyes open sleepily as Max set down a chilled G&T at your side. You thank him sweetly, too lazy to sit up properly and just lean over to suck up the refreshing drink from the straw, giving Max an enjoyable teaser of what you might look like sucking something else of his. Sorry I haven't been much fun, you say apologetically, especially after you've been so nice to invite me. I'm still catching up on sleep from my exams.

Max assures you not to worry about anything, telling you to nap to your hearts' content, making you giggle cutely. You look around, trying but failing to see Daniel and pout cutely when he's nowhere to be found. He'd promised to put sunscreen on my back, you explain, slumping back onto the comfy cushion with a yawn. I'm really sorry to bother you, Max, would you mind? I don't want to burn-

Max snatches up the golden opportunity, Don't worry, schat, he reassures, and you tiredly file a mental note to google that word later. I'll take good care of you. You smile at him gratefully, closing your eyes as he slowly rubs across your tantalizing caramel skin with his large, rough palms. You never notice how his steely blue eyes greedily roam up and down your body, but you do gasp in surprise when he slowly undoes one of your bikini strings, turning to look back at him - just have to get under them to apply it properly, sorry, you're a little burnt here, Max’s apology sounds so sincere that you say Oh, of course, turning back around and feeling silly for getting worried. So you don't question him further when he undoes the other set of strings on your bikini top, your back now completely exposed for him, and his warm palms feel sooo good against your aching muscles that you accidentally let out a moan. This time you hastily apologize but Max chuckles, saying your shoulders carried the tension of a hostile terrorist-hostage situation. He offers to give you a hand with a deep muscle relaxation massage he uses.

You hesitate, not sure if this is pushing the boundaries of what's okay, but when Max says that he does this for Daniel all the time, you relax, surely Daniel wouldn't mind then, right? It's all too easy to fall back into a light sleep as Max continues to rub the stress out of your sensitive little body, his hands so much larger and stronger than your boyfriends’ that it makes you feel reallyyy good in places you didn’t know you could be. You're too content to care when Max's touches drift down your sides, grazing against the full swell of your tits, or when he goes lower, and lower, and your bikini bottoms are now undone and he's squeezing across your juicy ass, making you moan sweetly while half asleep. You're completely soft and relaxed underneath him, forgetting that your own boyfriend hasn't yet touched you in the intimate places Max now had. If you had looked back you would have seen Max lazily stroking his erect, big cock as he stood over you, taking some pictures for later as he spreads your pliant chubby thighs and zooms in on the wet slick that had started to gather in between your legs and drip down then. Smirking to himself with the proof that your body was so affected by him, he jerks himself off with rapid pumps, breathing heavily as he shoots a large load of hot, white streaks all over your tan ass. You hmmm at the feeling, jiggling your hips, but don’t bother fully awaking to investigate as Max huskily leans down and whispers in your ear that you just needed a bit more cream there, sweetheart.

You nod, settling back into a comfortable sleep as Max rubs his cum all over your ass territorially, smirking darkly at how innocent you were. By the time Daniel returns to your side, he finds you still snoozing peacefully, your bikini tied back up in perfect little bows and Max long gone.

As the days went on you found yourself more and more in the company of Max, and you couldn’t deny the flutter you felt sometimes now when you looked at the older Dutch man. He was so handsome, so generous, and so considerate of you - so much more than Daniel was - and you felt immensely guilty at the disloyal thoughts that would spring up. Especially since Max was just being a good friend to you but you were starting to develop all sorts of inappropriate feelings. One training weekend you decided to be a good girlfriend and took a freshly packed homemade lunch down to the Redbull track to energize your boyfriend.

Max caught sight of you first, and easily fed Daniel some bullshit about the RB social manager needing him to review an insta post - just on the other side of the track. By the time you walked into the garage it was just Max, who told you that Daniel had gone out for lunch, actually, one of his friends was in town. That French model, I think? Oh! Yep, the one who was in Vogue last month.

He didn’t miss the flicker of uneasiness that spread onto your face as you were informed your boyfriend was out on a lunch date with a model. Oh, you say, feeling insecure and stupid that you’d come all the way here - but Max easily wraps a strong, comforting arm around your shoulders and reassures you, insisting that you join him for lunch instead and surely come for a ride, yeah?

He completely takes your mind off your worries by speeding you around in his racecar on a hot lap, and you’re screaming in pure excitement and delight, one hand automatically grabbing his large thigh. He’s so much faster and smoother than Daniel, and you bite your lip as you watch him sexily manoeuvre through tight corners. Afterwards, your stomach is all queasy from the speed and he laughs and helps you out of the car, and you end up having a picnic by the waterfront with your homemade grilled sandwiches and slices of lemon cake. God, this is so good, Max moans as he scoffs down a second slice. You’ve completely ruined my diet. Daniel’s so stupid to miss out on a lunch like this. If you were my girlfriend, I’d never spend a meal away.

You blush at his words, feeling flattered but also a little on edge - it was a bit strange of Max to wonder what it would be like dating you when you’re dating his friend, right? You pick at the grass, suddenly avoiding his gaze and feeling guilty again. Max notices immediately, eyes narrowing, but changes the topic to ask about how your studies were going to which you respond enthusiastically. Afterwards, you thank Max for being such a caring friend and knowing just how to cheer you up. You miss how his jaw clenches at the word "friend", because he would much rather be known as your boyfriend - or preferably, husband.

Later, for good measure, because he never did things half heartedly, he asks his good friend - the French model on the Vogue cover last month - to swing by the RB station and greet Daniel, his mate who’s a big fan and would love to meet her. Conveniently, the paparazzi just happen to capture the moment when she kisses his cheek, and within hours the photos have blown up about Daniel's latest fling and you’re being sent it by all your friends. It leads to a huge fight between you and Daniel, making you storm off only to end up calling Max, crying and apologising but asking if he would pick you up. He’s all too eager, arriving within minutes in his sleek Aston Martin, all comforting and warm as you sob into his secure chest and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. But despite it all you still shakily smile and thank him, saying you should head back and work it out with Daniel. You were just too sweet and loving for your own good. Max needed to step up his game plan - if it wasn't money, status or his charm, how would he sway you into his arms?

The final piece of the puzzle came together at the Barcelona Grand Prix. The Redbull and RB drivers all happened to be sharing a hotel that weekend, and as Max is walking back to his room one night he hears moaning coming from Daniel’s room - the one that he knows you’re sharing with him. Being the perv he is, Max doesn’t hesitate to crack open the shared ensuite door and see his naked ex-teammate rutting up against your plump ass, sliding his small dick back and forth between your asscheeks as you lay on your stomach - fully clothed in a shorts pajamas set, looking almost bored. Confused, Max tries to figure out what the fuck you’re doing - only to get his answer when Daniel pathetically whines please, honey, please can I take these off, I want to be inside you-

No! You snap at him, turning to face him with a glare. I told you, I’m saving my virginity for marriage. Stop asking me. This is all you get.

Oh, shit. You were a fucking virgin? Max’s jaw is practically on the floor and it takes him a few minutes to collect himself before he quietly closes the door and leaves to ponder on this new information. You really were the perfect girl for him. He was going to claim you in every sense of the word - until no one had any doubt about who you belonged to. He smirked, already hatching up a diabolical plan.

And that was how Max now found his gaze fixed at you, barely a week later, at this house party where you’d clearly had too much to drink. Swiping his phone out his pocket, he shoots a text to his very helpful friend the Vogue model again - this time asking her to help out a certain Australian driver who was quite sexually frustrated at the moment. Having sorted out the issue of your boyfriend for the time being, Max strides over to you, who’s now all alone in the kitchen messily trying to pour another drink. You’re dressed in the cutest little pleated miniskirt, stumbling on matching kitten heels, and Max feels all the blood rush to his cock as he sees you’re wearing the diamond choker he gifted you.

You haven’t seen him yet so he comes up behind you, guiding your hands to pour the drink smoothly. You giggle, assuming your boyfriend has arrived, and rub your ass against his crotch. Daniel! You exclaim happily, turning around and burying yourself in the Redbull hoodie he wore. Mmmh, baby, you’re here! You love when he wears this hoodie, because sometimes you like to cuddle it and wonder - just for a few seconds! - if it was Max's arms around you instead. Not that you'd ever admit these illicit thoughts to either party.

Meanwhile, Max’s eye twitches at the insult of being called the name of his supbar ex-teammate, but then you’re rubbing your pink nails all over his shoulders and back and pressing your soft, curvy body against his much larger frame and drunkly whispering have you been working out? You’re sooo much bigger and musclier than I remember you being, it’s super hot!

Max can’t help chucking at your cute antics, telling you let’s go somewhere more quiet, baby. Grabbing your drinks, he easily tosses you over his shoulder and exits out the back door to avoid your friends, slapping your ass for good measure as your miniskirt rises up, making you yelp in excitement. He definitely must have been working out because you can't ever remember when he has lifted you so easily before! He leads you into the dark and empty pool house, well and truly away from any prying eyes.

Throwing you onto the plush sofa, he purposely leaves the lights off as you squint up to see his dark, tall silhouette. You whine for him to come closer, asking where did the music gooo and after connecting to the speakers he drops down next to you. You climb eagerly onto his lap, excitedly yapping about how much you love this Redbull hoodie. His large hands automatically come up to rest on your ass, thick fingers sliding underneath your miniskirt and pulling your thong to the side as he begins teasing your slit. You instinctively grind against his leg, pushing back against his fingers, cause wow, baby, when did you get so good at this? You meet his eyes finally when you lean in to kiss him and you squeal in surprise as you realise just who you’re desperately humping. Mmmh-Max?!? Ohmygod what are you doing here-

Max is immediately annoyed that you seem to have come to your senses, but as you begin to pull away, he hatches a new plan. I just came to tell you the bad news myself, schat, he says earnestly. You’re confused at what he means but he pulls up his messages and shows you a video (his friend works very fast, after all) that has you recoiling in disgust. But Max makes sure that you see every second of it - of the French model filming Daniel’s pathetic scrunched up face as she rides him into oblivion, him moaning please can I come, mommy?

Max has to resist his snort. Fucking pathetic. You could do so much better - with him. Sorry you had to hear it like this, Max lies through his teeth, not sorry one bit, I just wanted you to hear it from me and not the news outlet. But you just climbed on top of me and began doing all this and I couldn’t stop it-

His guilt trip works perfectly and you’re back to bouncing in his lap, teary eyes, saying I’m so sorry Maxie, that’s all my fault, I thought you were Daniel but I guess we’re broken up now, can I make it up to you? What can I do?

Bingo. Tilting his head, Max smirks darkly at you. Can you just use your lips to drain some of the stress, baby? It got all tense cause of your grinding. You widen your brown doe eyes, confused but he just guides you down with a strong hand to sit on your plump ass in between his legs. My lips? You say breathlessly, and Max nods, guiding your head to his crotch as you immediately start sucking on his straining bulge. Like-like this Maxie? You ask innocently, voice muffled. Not quite, Max strains through gritted teeth. Unzipping himself, he guides his thick length out against to rest against your face with a thwack. Your eyes go wide at the size. Maxie is much, much bigger than your boyfriend.

Ex, the world champion corrects, as you accidentally say it out loud. He’s just an ex now. Now, you going to be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?

You nod obediently and sloppily take him into your mouth, choking and gagging as you go. Max moans blissfully as he finally has you, angling his flash onto your face - just to help you see what you’re doing, he lies sweetly - whilst recording the filthy blowjob he’s tricked you into performing. You moan around his length, Max is always so thoughtful towards you! You’re determined to clear up any ounce of tension your earlier actions had caused him - not noticing that his cock is only getting harder as you coat with it your saliva and lip gloss.

Swearing at your eager mouth and nearly finishing early, Max sadly has to put an end to this as he has other plans in store. He manhandles you again, this time carrying you in his arms up the stairs and tossing you onto the bed. Before you can orient yourself he’s yanked his clothes off and climbed on top of you, asking you to open your mouth wide so he can check you’ve drained him properly. You do so dumbly, and Max messily spits before shoving his thick tongue down your throat as you start moaning again. Mmh, don’t think you got it all, sweetheart. Max says disapprovingly. Plus, you made me all messy with your lipgloss. How am I going to go back to the party like this, huh?

You go teary eyed again at the demanding tone, anxious you’d made Max mad. You beg to suck him off again, promising you’d lick up all the mess this time, but he sighs, running his hands through his hair and saying not enough, think I need to relieve it a different way. You nod eagerly, whatever you need Maxie, but squeal in suprise when he grabs your ankles and lifts your legs up over his shoulder, flipping your skirt up and ripping your panties in half to expose your dripping pussy. Maxie- Ohmygod, what are you doing, is this really- you’re babbling frantically, hearing a voice at the back of your mind tell you Max was taking this too far.

Max cooes words of reassurance at you, Shhh schat, this is the only way to feel better, okay? You’ll help me out, right? After I helped you?

You hesitate but give in, unable to resist your growing desire for the handsome driver. He grins cockily at you, leaning down and lapping at your intimate parts with his skilled tongue, saying he just needed to make sure you were all relaxed first before he started. You feel bad that you’re enjoying it this much, since Max has to do all the work himself, but it feels soo good, and you moan Max’s name over and over as he starts sliding his fat aching cock in between your slick folds.

Almost there, baby, he hisses, sweat running down his back as he yanks your crop top off, leaving you in the sparkly choker with his initial across your heaving tits. He turns the camera back onto your blissed out face again, wanting to capture the expression on your face when he enters you for the first time. You smile back adoringly with your doe eyes, unaware of just how long of a night he had in store for you or how many times you would come apart on his cock, your precious virginity now all his.

And the next morning when you’d arrive on the paddock, meekly walking past the RB garage and straight into Max’s Redbull motor home, he would reply to Daniel’s confused texts with a picture of his hand across your bejeweled throat, hickeys littering your tits, so that there would be no more questions about what you were doing at Max’s side. Just how you were always meant to be ❤️‍🔥

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A/N: GUYS I need to write some fluff after this I feel like I’ve objectified this poor man with like 7 straight smut stories in a row omllll

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 smut #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen x oc #smut #mv1 #18+ mdni #mv33

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captainkirkk · 1 month ago

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been following for years because of similar tastes in media & characters and the way i punched the air in joy upon seeing that you’re getting into murderbot… im so excited for you!! i wish i could reread the books for the first time again.

i wasn’t sure about skarsgard when the casting was first announced for the show but i have to admit, he nails murderbot’s “skittish horse about to cave your head in” vibes in social situations so hard. murderbot is truly one of the autistic characters of all time, i love it and its unreliable narrator self with my whole heart ♥️

anyhow looking forward to hearing your thoughts on the series! i think you’ll like the books depiction of mensah & murderbot’s dynamic especially 😊 and another character yet to be introduced but i shant say

"Skittish horse about to cave your head in" is so perfect kjkds I'm really looking forward to being in MB's head more, its inner dialogue has been really enjoyable so far

Also I peeked on ao3 because I couldn't help myself AND? LOOK AT THAT?

Top THREE relationships on ao3 are platonic. That never happens. I did a quick count and 70% of the top 10 relationships are all Gen. Let's go!!!!

#the tv show is giving found family & skittish stray that does NOT want to be adopted and yet absolutely has been #even though its still thinking about mauling everyone in their sleep #honestly i don't even blame MB i really love how they capture its sheer ANNOYANCE and discomfort and yet somehow affection #extremely relatable #ask #anon

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kokii-omii · 1 month ago

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Flight Fest Race Event Story (part 1)

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[ignihyde dorms - Pan's Room]

*RIIIING*

*RIIIIIIING*

🪽: helloooo?? oh! sup bro, ya need smth? wait what? wdym you want ME to do it??? you cant just drop that on me man- i- ugh....

🪽:

🪽: it was mom's idea..? aw man now i CANT bail out, she'd be so mad if i flake.....why? wellll i uh haven't exactly been replying to her messages....yeah....

🪽: k fine I'll do it, yeah yeah I'll talk to ya later, bye bye......

🪽:.......SIGHHHHH

🪽: ˢᵗᵘᵖᶦᵈ ᵈᵘᵐᵐʸ ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⁻ How are you an absolute unit of an athlete but get sick cuz someone sneezed near you??

🪽: guess i gotta find teammates...

[ignihyde dorms - Idia's Room]

💀: no the sequence is up down left right and then you spin

🫗: wait what button lets me spin????

💀: which controller did you pick u-

*DOOR BREAKING*

🪽: IDIA

🪽: Idia..Peyn...you're coming with me

💀&🫗: HUH????

🪽:Tldr; my brother signed me up for the race thats happening in my hometown and i need teammates

💀:Race?? as in like SPORTS???

🫗: like the Flight Fest? as in like FLYING??

🪽: yep

💀&🫗: HELL NO! / HELL YEAH!

💀: no- nah- nuh uh- NO WAY- am i gonna be participating in a sports event, racing against ATHLETES,

🫗: cmon boss! this is the Flight Fest! its like THEE biggest event in Feather-Fair city!

💀: thats EXACTLY why im not going- eughh so many people are gonna be watching you and they're gonna be clip farming that race and if you crash into something, and it'll be so over!!!

💀: i am NOT about to embarrass myself and have it be streamed to hundred and thousands of normies

💀: besides im the housewarden, so im the boss and i can't have both myself and the vice leave the dorm unattended

🫗:Boooo, no fair

🪽: guess it cant be helped... he used the housewarden card on us , we cant argue with that

🫗: why dont we take Ortho?

💀: wait yeah why dont you take Ortho with you- he'd love something like that- and he'd be WAYYY better for the race

🪽: nope- sorry Ids we cant take him, he'd be TOO good at flying with his rocket feetsies, it'd be unfair for the other athletes

🫗: guess that means we'll just have to ask from the guys at the other dorms then

[Cafeteria]

♦️: ooof bummer, that totes sound annoying, i feel rlly bad for you Panny

♠️: but a race? that sounds amazing!

♥️: and aw man not to mention we'd get cool suits and everything!

🪽: sooooo? does this mean you'll join??

♦️: sorry babes we unfortunately cant

♥️: me and deuce barely passed our quizzes, so the housewarden's making us do DOUBLE the work for preparing the unbirthday party

♠️: yeah...and we'll have to do that with our regular chores too...

♦️: and im in charge of watching these two so they dont slack off lol, but snap some cute pics for me kay? don't leave poor little cay-cay on read

🪽:aw man.. but i definitely will, you'll be the first to see the fit when i get it, guess all of heartslabyul is off the table for the entire week.... oh well gtg I'll ask some of the other guys

[Courtyard]

🍎: THATS SO COOL

🫗:RIGHT?? and it gets even BETTER, if we win then we get free food from the vendors for the WHOLE WEEK

🐈‍⬛: Mrah! Free food? like anything we want for a whole week?? I CAN GET AS MANY TUNA CANS AS I WANT???

🫗: that's IF we win the race, otherwise you still have to pay for it

🍎: I'm so down for this but we gotta convince Vil-san to give us his permission and let me participate first

🍩: Shishishi, what's this i hear?

🫗: Ruggie-senpai! this is perfect! do you wanna join us for the flight fest?

🫗:cuz ik you're really good at maneuvering in the air

🍩: well if a freshie from our spelldrive club wants my help then who am i to refuse?

🐈‍⬛: you're just here for the free food...

🍩: hey im not one to shy away from something like this, so I'm totally down

🫗: maybe we should get Leona-senpai as well, but we gotta find Pan first so he can convince Vil to let Epel go with us

[Botanical Gardens]

🪽: Pleaaaaaaseeee please please please please please please please

🦁: No

🪽: Cmon man we need a really good flyer in our team, and you're the best one i knowww

🦁: i said no, now leave me alone ya goddamn spring onion, why dont you go ask the Lizard or that damn Owl of his

🪽: malleus scares me... and i already asked Lucien and he said no

🪽: so pleaseeee Leona cmonnnnn, im running out of options here, im on my knees man- i wont leave til you say yes

🪽: PLEASEEEEE

🪽: PLEASEEEEEEEE

🪽:WAHHHHH LEONAAA

🦁: grr... ALRIGHT- just quit whining- god you're so annoying- If i go with you will you shut up now?

🪽: yes! and don't worry! i already asked the headmage and he'll let us skip class without our grades being affected by it

🪽: think of it as a vacation with a little outdoor activities

🦁: ugh, if we lose cuz of you im throwing you off one of the cliffs

🪽: noted-

🍩&🫗: Leona-saaaann/Leona-senpaaaaii

🦁: shut up im going

🐈‍⬛: wow that was easy

🫗: oh Pan's here, great! Now let's go cuz we gotta convince Vil to let Epel join us for the race, he's already at the pomefiore dorm waiting for you

🪽: well if Ruggie's in then i guess we got our team! you guys should get ready and stuff we'll meet all of you guys back at the mirror chamber after we get Epel

🪽: be sure to bring your essentials and we'll be back in like 15 minutes, let's go Peyn

🫗: yeah, see ya guys later

🐈‍⬛: cmon Yuu lets go get ready!

[Mirror Chamber]

🦁:..they're late

🐈‍⬛: mrah, we've been standing here for 10 minutes, how long is it gonna take?

🦐: dont worry they'll show up soon

🍩: cant blame em, its gonna be hard to convince Vil to let Epel skip class for a week, even if our grades wont get slumped

🫗: ugh...Man..

🍎:....

🪽: mm.....

🦐: you guys look beat, what happened?

🪽: Vil said yes but....

🫗:he made us do makeup for like 30 minutes and wouldn't leave til we got both sides of our eyeliner to be equal

🍎: my face hurts from the constant wiping...

🪽:okay okay enough of that lets just go-

🪽: to Feather-Fair City!!!

---------------------------------------------------

Part 2

#i love making dialogue #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twst #twisted wonderland #oc #twst wonderland #Pan Nikos #Peyn Algos #epel felmier #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #idia shroud #Flight Fest Race

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