#but max is a blast to write
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on-softs · 1 year ago
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thank you for the kind words!! <3333
12 & 18!!
from here
12. fic you want everyone to study in a literature class?
eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes by raregoose. charlos! first the short epigraphs before each section are super clever, and also just the characterization of both charles and carlos was very interesting and pretty unique to me, and it was a really fun and weirdly suspenseful fic all around. in terms of desire and figuring out what you want while also trying so hard not to think about it at all. the narration too, what charles focuses on and does, was soo good and brain-boggley. like in the good brain-boggley way :)
charles and his weird relationships with his girlfriends you will forever be iconic.
as a bonus, this hg au for zb1
as a second bonus i was going to rec THE charles leclerc gangbang (amour-propre) but then i realized it was posted in 2021 lol
18. favorite characterization?
for both max and daniel! hotline bling by pink_mink. absolutely incredible. does a great deal of show don't tell in a very masterful way. so much to read in between the lines. a rare but very pleasant and at least to me faithful characterization of current day post-first wdc max that i don't see very often.
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toorumochi · 9 months ago
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And it’s out! Go check out the first chapter for the maxley SwapAU for outerspaceboyy_ on Twitter!!! All thanks goes to him for creating this AU in the first place 🙂‍↕️🩵
I’m clearly not right in the head for writing this many Maxley AUs but it needs to be done and I’m going down with it
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alvinmichaelmurphyseville · 3 months ago
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“So I was just layin’ in bed bein’ bored and relaxin’ when suddenly INSPIRATION struck!”
“This is definitely one of my favorite parts of my brand of musically savvy ADHD because DUDE I JUST WROTE A WHOLE SONG IN 15 MINUTES!”
“I dunno what to title it yet, but it’s basically me venting about the conversion of everything to streaming. I hope ya like it.”
“Remember when you could watch your shows on TV?
And buy all the programs on DVD?
Whatever happened to those days?
Why’d they all have to fade away?
Now we’re ‘sposed to rely on streamin’
Which is more unreliable than daydreamin’
Your favorite show’s there one day
Gone the next.
And now you’re fighting the urge to wring some necks! (Ba da da dum)
Oh this is the ballad of a scorned little kid.
Paramount Plus, you know what you did.
I desperately need my Young Sheldon fix
But alas, I’m too poor to afford Netflix!
Arrrr, matey.
Shiver me timbers
Why must I pirate all my shooooows?
Because every single streaming service….
BLOOOOOOWS!
If I download another virus, dad’ll flip
But here I climb, aboard the pirate ship! (Ba da da dum)
Oh this is the ballad of a scorned little kid.
Paramount plus, you know what you did.
I desperately need my Young Sheldon fix
But alas, I’m too poor to afford Netflix!
I CAN’T EVEN WATCH MY OWN SHOW!
And why?
Because Streaming services…
BLOOOOOOOOOW!!!”
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dxrkenedheights · 1 month ago
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where: all star diner
with: max ranstrom, jack cross, lucy cross, nova moon @gloriouswhispers, @hxckedvxid, @ofwrxth
Ding-a-ling!
The bell above the diner door sings loud and proud as Max Ranstrom kicks it open like he’s storming a castle. A few grown up heads turn, some blink and one squints like they’re not entirely sure what’s happening but no one stops him. Which means he is so like his dad right now. Killin it. He plants himself just inside the doorway, holding it open with all the strength his four year old body can summon. Arms stretched wide, feet set like a superhero, face already shiny with determination. It's hard, the door's heavier than it looks but Max holds.
He waits until everyone’s in, every last one of 'em. Lucy. Jack. Nova, who’s trailing just a little, but that’s okay. She does that, and Max keeps his eyes on her the whole time. “One...two...five...” he counts as they pass him, whispering the numbers under his breath with fierce focus. His brow furrows and his hand balls into a triumphant little fist. “I’m gettin’ so good at counting,” he mutters, very proud, even if the math is a little wiggly.
He finally lets the door swing shut behind him, shoulders rising as he exhales like someone who just finished saving the day. Again. Max glances back, making extra sure Nova’s caught up, and when she’s close enough, he nods once. Approved. “Jack Jack!” he calls, snapping to attention like he’s got a clipboard no one else can see. “Go gets Deej! Tell ‘im cake. Big cake.” then, turning, he points to Lucy. “And you gets us some where to sit.” his voice pitches up on the last line. Then he stands there for a second, hands on his hips, gaze sweeping the diner. Proud because his crew is moving and the cake is coming.
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queenofbaws · 2 months ago
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Hey there, Queenie, hope you're having a fun weekend!💕 You must know that I cannot resist asking for some LauraMax whenever you grace us with another wonderful six-sentence-Sat(or)Sunday, so... pretty pleaaase? 👉👈🥺
"I can't wait to be back in my own beeeeed," she sighed, letting that last syllable stretch and stretch and stretch until it turned into something more like a groan as she shut her eyes and tipped her head towards the sun.
Above her, his fingers tapping out a little rhythm on her knee, Max hummed in agreement, "Honestly my first stop's gonna be the fridge, but yeah, trading in the ol' spring-in-the-back mattress for something slightly less lumpy does sound...pretty...uh."
They noticed it at the same time, all the hubbub, and how could they not - suddenly the clearing was all shouts and slams and people talking in sharp, worried voices, and wow, talk about harshing the post-camp vibe. Laura sat up from where she'd been resting with her head on Max's lap, and after a beat of them exchanging glances, they both left the sun-warmed porch where they'd been relaxing for the parking lot below.
"I dunno, man," Jacob was saying, a strangely innocent expression making his eyes seem larger, the downturn of his frown almost comedic, "the van just gave out, I don't know what to tell you!"
"Well there's your problem, the rotor arm's gone," Max said after only the quickest peek into the open hood; he pointed a spot out to Mr. H, blissfully unaware of the glare Jacob was shooting him as he continued, "But don't sweat it, I'm sure I got a backup in my kit, I got all kinds of junk in there - c'mon Hacketteers, let's get home!"
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stuckasmain · 1 year ago
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Never forgiving him for that. The last thing he does is mess up a saying just to annoy walter and it’s unbelievably sweet.
The fact that, they let Walter be one of the ones who send him off. He’s the one who adjusts his suit so tenderly…
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chuuyasporkie · 1 year ago
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Did you give us some actual communication between these two??? Did you? Or is this crumb misleading? 🤨 very suspicious of this development. Even if you did your probably just gonna hurt us worse later 😭 Thank you for this lovely sneak peak ❤
LISTENNNN 😭😭😭😭 all im gonna say is that you're gonna be happy with this chapter. and then you're gonna be sad. and then you're gonna be happy. and then sad. and then happy. and then absolutely FLABBERGASTED.
but i think you guys will enjoy this chapter, actually! after looking at all the comments BEGGING for communication (like come on yall who needs that why can't we all just be mentally ill together 🙁😞) i have... done some thinking and made some changes. which i think you will like. i basically put myself into timeout for you lot like 😔😔😔
also. this is not confirmed yet. but. might be a two chapter weekend. for Reasons™. that will be unveiled in the next chapter. 🥰
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kohakhearts · 2 years ago
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Trick or treat! 🎃
thank you!! same wip as the other ask because it's been on my mind :p it's not all angst in spite of goh's proclivity for angsting
But he is saved from further humiliation by the arrival of Cinderace, who comes dashing into the room so quickly he is little more than a blurred streak of white and red. He all but barrels into Goh, who stiffens at the contact and then does a double-take. “What…?” “A Grookey.” Gary’s voice is close to Goh’s ear now; apparently he moved over to get a look at the Pokémon sitting atop Cinderace’s head. “What a cutie.” And with that, the little Pokémon jumps off of Cinderace’s head and on to Goh’s, eliciting a snort of laughter from Gary, who must see the disdainful look on Goh’s face. “Cinder!” “That’s right, Goh. Lighten up. It’s not gonna hurt you.” Goh huffs, his hands curling up into fists in his lap. He is careful not to move his head too fast, lest Grookey lose its hold on his hair. “If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna hurt you,” he snaps. “Where’s the professor at, anyway?”
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osamucide · 10 months ago
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⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!
. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!
wc: 5.3k
cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)
reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!
“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”
The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.
“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”
You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.
“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”
“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”
But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.
There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.
It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.
“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”
His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”
“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”
He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹
⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!
“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”
That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.
And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.
“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.
His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”
So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.
And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.
“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”
“Osamu!”
But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.
“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”
He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.
Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.
“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.
“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”
When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹
⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!
"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.
"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.
"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.
He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.
Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.
He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.
"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."
He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.
You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.
"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹
⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!
You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.
Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.
He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.
But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.
"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"
He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.
He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.
You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.
"Unh—ugh..."
You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.
Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.
"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."
You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹
⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!
"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"
"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"
Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.
"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"
But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.
"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"
His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.
"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."
And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.
And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.
"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."
And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.
"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹
⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!
You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."
The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.
"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."
He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.
"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."
"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.
You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.
"Fuckin' slut—"
When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.
"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."
But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.
You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.
"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."
His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹
⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!
"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."
You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.
You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."
"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.
"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"
"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.
You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."
"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.
He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.
"I mean, unless..."
Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.
“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“
His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.
“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹
⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!
The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.
He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.
I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.
You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.
There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.
Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.
He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.
"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"
You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.
An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.
"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹
⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!
You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.
When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?
Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?
"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."
You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.
"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹
⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!
"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.
He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.
But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.
"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.
"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.
He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.
He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.
"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."
"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.
Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"
You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.
"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹
⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!
“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."
"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."
You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."
"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.
"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."
But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.
"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."
"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."
The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.
"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”
"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.
"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.
"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹
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txrully · 7 months ago
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I'M SO STUPID IN LOVE!
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·˚ ༘ ꒱ summary lovey-dovey things they'd do for you!
·˚ ༘ ꒱ characters isagi yoichi , bachira meguru , itoshi rin , nagi seishiro , mikage reo , chigiri hyoma , hiori yo , shidou ryusei , itoshi sae , michael kaiser , alexis ness .
·˚ ༘ ꒱ warning lowercase intended
·˚ ༘ ꒱ song inspo stupid in love - max ( ft. huh yunjin of lsrfm )
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·˚ ༘ ꒱ isagi yoichi
you know how isagi’s brain is basically soccer, soccer, soccer? well, this man rewires his ENTIRE system for you. suddenly, every time he scores a goal, he dedicates it to you. like, mid-celebration he’s shouting your name in front of thousands of people. embarrassing? a lil. cute? definitely.
he’s also the type to leave you notes everywhere. you’ll open your locker, and boom: "i hope your day is as perfect as your smile. also, pls drink water. - yoichi 🩵"
or you’ll find random sticky notes around the house with stuff like: "you're cuter than my dog. and that’s saying a lot." ( i hc he's a dog person, fight me 🫠 )
"yoichi, did you seriously compare me to your dog again?"
"is that bad?? you’re both my top priorities!"
·˚ ༘ ꒱ bachira meguru
bachira is a walking ball of chaos, and it only gets worse when he’s in love. he makes you weird handmade crafts—like a necklace with your initials carved into a random rock he found because “the vibes were immaculate.”
he’s also the king of grand gestures. once, he showed up outside your window in the middle of the night blasting your favorite song from a boombox. and no, he didn’t think it through—he got yelled at by your neighbors, but he swears it was worth it.
"meguru, why is there a rock with my name on it?"
"because i love you. duh."
"…you couldn’t just buy a necklace??"
"where’s the FUN in that?? D:< "
·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi rin
soft tsundere energy incoming. rin doesn’t say much, but when he’s in love, he SHOWS it. like, he’ll memorize your coffee order, your favorite book, and the exact way you like your hoodie sleeves rolled up. you swear he’s psychic, but he’s just that attentive.
he also sends you texts at random times:
"don’t forget your umbrella. it’s going to rain."
"i noticed you like this song. added it to my playlist."
you’re 99% sure his search history is “how to take care of someone without being obvious.”
"rin, did you... did you learn how to make my favorite food?"
"shut up and eat it."
"you’re so sweet it’s disgusting."
"i said shut up."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ nagi seishiro
nagi’s love language? pure, lazy dedication. he may not seem like the romantic type, but trust me—he will move mountains for you... as long as it doesn’t require getting up too much.
once, he spent HOURS figuring out how to build you a playlist of all your favorite songs, complete with a cover photo of you two. he even labeled it: "for my player 2 🕹️"
"sei, this playlist is amazing!"
"mm, yeah, it was exhausting. now can we nap?"
"you literally just sat there and clicked buttons."
"exactly. so tiring.."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ mikage reo
reo goes all out for you—no budget, no limits, no second thoughts. one time, you mentioned how pretty cherry blossoms are, and the next thing you know, he’s flying you to a festival in japan. casually might i add.
but the sweetest part? he remembers the little things. your favorite snack? stocked in his pantry. your favorite flower? delivered to your doorstep every friday. he spoils you rotten but somehow makes it feel like the most natural thing in the world.
"reo, this is too much—"
"no, it’s not. nothing’s too much for you."
"you’re literally insane."
"only for you, babe."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ chigiri hyoma
chigiri is the definition of 💌romantic aesthetic💌. he writes you poetry and leaves it in random places, like your bag or your coat pocket. sometimes, you don’t even notice until hours later.
he also takes you on dreamy dates—picnics in scenic fields, long bike rides at sunset, and slow dances in your living room when it’s raining outside. everything he does feels like it’s straight out of a romance movie.
"hyoma, did you just quote a shakespeare sonnet to me?"
"maybe."
"oh my god, you’re so dramatic."
"and yet you’re still here."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ hiori yo
hiori is the sweetest, softest boy in love. he keeps a journal where he writes down all the little things you do that make him happy. once, you caught him scribbling, and he turned BRIGHT red.
he’s also the king of quiet acts of service. your phone’s always fully charged, your favorite snacks magically appear in your bag, and you never have to ask for help because he’s already two steps ahead.
"yo, were you writing about me again?"
"no... maybe. okay, yes."
"you’re adorable."
"please don’t look."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ shidou ryusei
oh boy. shidou is CHAOTIC in love. this man would probably fight a wild animal to impress you. he’s all about making you laugh, even if it means doing the dumbest stunts imaginable.
one time, he literally climbed a tree to get you a flower. it wasn’t even a nice flower. but hey, it’s the thought that counts.
"ryu, you’re bleeding. what did you do??"
"got you this flower. cool, huh?"
"you FELL OUT OF A TREE FOR THIS??"
"worth it."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi sae
sae is the definition of quiet but deadly romantic. he doesn’t show his feelings often, but when he does? damn. like, he’ll casually fly in from another country just to spend the weekend with you because “it’s no big deal.”
he also sends you fancy gifts out of nowhere. but if you call him out, he’ll play it cool like it’s nothing.
"sae, did you just buy me an entire designer collection?"
"it’s just clothes."
"just clothes?? this cost more than my rent!"
"and you look better than rent."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ michael kaiser
kaiser loves showing off, especially when it comes to you. he’ll buy out a billboard just to plaster your picture on it with the words "the love of my life 🩵."
but he’s also surprisingly sweet. like, he’ll carry your bag, fix your hair when it’s windy, or randomly pull you into a dance in the middle of the street just because he can.
"michael, did you seriously put my face on a billboard??"
"obviously. everyone needs to know you’re mine."
"you’re ridiculous."
"ridiculously in love with you, yes."
·˚ ༘ ꒱ alexis ness
ness is a total softie. he writes you little love letters and leaves them in your mailbox, signed with his initials like he’s a secret admirer. you obviously know it’s him, but you let him think he’s being sneaky.
he’s also BIG on cuddles. whenever he sees you, it’s like he can’t function until he gets a hug.
"ness, you know i know it’s you, right?"
"…you’re supposed to pretend you don’t!"
"why?"
"because it’s romantic!"
© txrully
do not copy/translate/plagiarize/repost my works in any way. ( i will find you 😶‍🌫️ )
likes + reblogs appreciated ‹𝟹
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norrisainz33 · 9 months ago
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Miami Baby | MV33
☆ summary: actress and avid f1 fan visits the paddock for the first time and she is a certain world champion’s celebrity crush.
☆ pairing: max verstappen x famous!reader x grid!platonic
☆ fc & warnings: suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume.
☆ requested: nope!!
☆ a/n: this was one of the first fics i ever started writing and just havent had the nerve to post it. this is my first time posting a written and smau fic so bear with me here 🥹
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
ynuser has added to their story
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[story 1: guess what i’m up to this week] [story 2: princess treatment fr 💅🏻]
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user2: MIAMI GRAND PRIX?!
user4: omg are you finally going to a grand prix!!!!???
yourbff: AND SHES DRIVING A FERRARI?!
ynuser: YES!! this is a dream come true
yourbff: i’m so happy for you y/n/n 🤍 FORZA FERRARI!!!!
ynuser: FORZA FERRARI
tomholland2013: Hope you have the best time in Miami!! Z says that you have to come with us to Silverstone tho
ynuser: thank you tommy!! count me in 🫶🏻
user3: MAMA Y MIAMI
user1: car or driver - level impossible
ynuser has made a post
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liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, sabrinacarpenter, zendaya and 2,657,101 others
ynuser: hot new driver alert, watch out boys! Make sure to catch my hot lap with The Carlos Sainz and say hi if you see me this weekend in Miami 🫶🏻❤️🏎️
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user3: the way she was giggling like a little kid as carlos whipped the car around , oh i love her
user4: no bc she’s finally at a gp living her dreams
user6: she’s literally just another celebrity?
user5: user6 you don’t know the lore! she’s been an f1 fan since before she got famous and she’s been friends with rebecca and alex for quite a while
carlossainz55: had an absolute blast driving with you! looking forward to seeing you this weekend!
ynuser: likewise!!!
scuderiaferrari: bellissima! ready for an exciting weekend ❤️
iamrebeccad: hottest hot lap i’ve ever seen😍😍
maxverstappen1: hot lap with me next
charlesleclerc: since when do you do hot laps?
user8: AM I READING THIS RIGHT
user9: MAX!???????????
user10: i’m sorry is the max verstappen trying to flirt rn
charlesleclerc has posted a story
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ynuser: thank you charlie 🫶🏻
charlesleclerc: bien sûr y/n
user3: do you wanna be my chauffeur next?
maxverstappen1: charles you have got to introduce me to her
charleslerclerc: to who?
maxverstappen1: y/n
charlesleclerc: max are you ok?
maxverstappen1: what do you mean??? yes, i am ok??
charlesleclerc: i’m just shocked you willingly want to be introduced to someone??? let alone a celebrity?
maxverstappen1: charles 🙄
maxverstapppen1: she may or may not be my celebrity crush ok
charlesleclerc: ohhh mon ami you should have said that sooner
charlesleclerc: i’ll get alex and rebecca on the case 😉
maxverstappen1: oh god no charles i just meant an introduction i don’t need anyone on the case 😭
user12: 3 pretty best friends
user14: the little matching outfits?! im sick
ynuser has added to their story
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user15: you were made to wear ferrari merch
iamrebeccad: can’t wait to show you off to all the other boys 😍
ynuser: but you’re the only one i want 😫
iamrebeccad: i know darling but im not the only one who wants you 😉
ynuser: CRYPTIC what does that mean
alexandrasaintmleux: i’m so glad we finally got you to ferrari mon amour but we should definitely take a walk around the paddock!! you can meet some drivers that aren’t in red - maybe some blue
ynuser: i’ll go anywhere with you
maxverstappen1: i think red bull blue would look better on you
ynuser: blue? perhaps!
user17: begging to know where you got that belt it’s so slay
user22: one of these drivers has got to wife you up you’d be the best wag
user18: can’t wait for all the pictures of you on the grid
ynuser has added to their story
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charlesleclerc: find max! he’ll help you get back to ferrari
user14: steal all their notes and bring it to ferrari so we can have a better car
landonorris: come to mclaren its way better here
ynuser: ok then come get me muppet i’m lost 😭
user87: steal one of the cars and give it to carlos!!!
user23: ms girl what are you doing there?? i thought you were supposed to be filming your new movie!
iamrebeccad: 🤭🤭🤭
ynuser: oh so you did this on purpose?
user55: project get ferrari a rocket ship is a go
~~
The pit lane was humming with activity as mechanics and team members alike continued with their duties after a productive qualifying session. You glanced around looking for your friends, alex and rebecca, who had convinced you to take this walk in the first place, but you couldn’t find them in the sea of red bull employees. Letting out a sigh you pulled out your phone hoping to see some sort of reply from either them but there was nothing.
"y/n?" a familiar voice questioned, startling you out of your thoughts. you were met with a confused looking max verstappen and you felt your cheeks heat. max was still in his white fireproofs with his suit pulled down around his waist and you'd be lying if you said he didn't look incredible. you may have accidentally admitted to alex that max was your crush on the grid and you had a sneaking suspicion thats why both her and rebecca magically disappeared leaving you here.
"yes! hi max!!" you said quickly, holding out your hand for him to shake. "it's a genuine honor to meet you!" max looked down at your outstretched hand and paused for a moment before taking it in his own.
his hand engulfed yours as a grin stretched across his face, "the honor is mine, y/n - i'm actually a pretty big fan of yours."
"you are?"
max chuckled, "yes? is that hard to believe?"
"no, no .. i just didn't think you'd know who i was! i mean - im just surprised is all," you said quickly, realizing you were stumbling over your words but max didn't seem to be phased.
"don't be surprised, you are quite talented," max took a sip from his red bull can and you watched as his eyes danced around the pit lane. "do you want an escort back to ferrari?"
"yes, please."
"great, come with me," max rested his hand on the small of your back as he ushered you through the red bull garage and back to the paddock. he made idle chit chat as you tried your very best to focus on anything other than the electricity you could feel from where his hand met the fabric of your dress.
"ahh there you are mon amor!" alex cooed as you and max approached the ferrari hospitality. rebecca looked between you and max with a knowing look on her face. you made a mental note to talk to them both later about how they couldn't just leave you places unattended even if it meant meeting max.
"well would you look at this," charles patted max on the back as he walked past taking his place next to alex. he had a devilish smirk plastered across his handsome features as his eyes travelled between the two of you.
"max was kind enough to help me navigate my way back here after alex and rebecca so sweetly ditched me in the pit lane."
"oh was he now? well then we must repay my dear friend! how about you come to the club with us after the race tomorrow max?" charles looked expectantly at his friend.
max let out a sigh, "i suppose i could be persuaded."
"thats the spirit!" charles clapped his hands together, "i'll text you the details mon ami."
a night club? in miami? with max verstappen? this ought to be interesting.
~~
ynuser has posted multiple stories
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[story 1: race day let’s go] [story 2: im not crying!! YOU are] [story 3: idk if miami can handle us @.alexandrasaintmleux]
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user16: you crying over lando winning his first race is so real
landonorris: i am crying u r right girl
ynuser: as long as ur not cryin in the club
landonorris: not yet !! but the night is young!!
user22: ok body is tea wtf
alexandrasaintmleux: you’re so beautiful i love you so much
ynuser: YOU are so beautiful. i love you more my girl
yourbff: why are you !! a ferrari!!! crying over a mclaren?!
ynuser: bc it’s lando and we love bob in this house
yourbff: ok yeah fine
user12: miami is NOT ready for your hotness that’s for sure
ianrebeccad: ok i need to borrow that outfit from you asap. also pls get to the club faster im stuck here without you both 🥹
ynuser: you’re the one who wanted to “get ready” with carlos and not us soooooo
user44: i’m foaming at the mouth
maxverstappen1: understandable to cry over me not winning
ynuser: i’m glad you get it 😫
user45: that’s not a face card, that’s a whole face economy
user33: who are these divas?
~~
max could feel the music pounding through his chest as his fellow club goers danced to the beat. feeling all sorts of nerves, he brought his gin and tonic to his lips and took a few big gulps hoping the liquid courage would hit him soon. his eyes couldn’t help but follow you as you swayed your entire body to the music without a care in the world. readjusting the hat on his head, he watched as your skirt inched lower on your hips and he could almost feel his mouth start to water.
“max just go and talk to her!” charles yelled over the music pulling max out of his thoughts.
“i can’t.”
“quoi? what do you mean you can’t?”
“she’s just… i just… i can’t!” max finished off his drink and set it down on the table in front of him. “i mean look at her,” max explains throwing his arms up in exasperation, “she’s so beautiful!! i’m not sure i’d even know what to say.”
“just ask her to dance or to get another drink!” charles looked over to you, alex and rebecca as you danced with carlos and lando.
“i can’t.”
“max - if you don’t i guarantee someone else is going to try and make a move on her.” charles was now staring max down with a scowl on his face, “and i know that would upset you more than just growing some balls and talking to her!”
max frowned, realizing his friend was right. “i’m just scared she won’t like me.”
“i have insider knowledge that says she fancies you.”
max’s eyes widened, “and you didn’t lead with that?”
“no because i wasn’t supposed to tell you!! now please for the love of god let’s go get her.”
max and charles navigated their way through the sea of bodies until they made it to your little group. you looked up at max with a bright smile and he felt the butterflies in his stomach intensify. before he lost all of his nerve, he blurted out “get a drink with me?”
you nodded, “i’d love to!” max smiled and grabbed your hand so that he wouldn’t lose you in the mass of people.
there was very little available space at the bar which left you leaning against the counter and max directly behind you leaning against you so that he could hear the bartender. not a single coherent thought was going through your head, all you could focus on was the way max’s body rested against yours, the warmth it offered you, the way he was resting his strong hands on either side of you and how if you turned you’d be face to face and able to kiss him right on—
max tapped on your shoulder pulling you out of your thoughts and earning a slight jump from you. “the bartender asked what you wanted to drink, y/n” max explained into your ear causing goosebumps to spread like wild fire across your skin.
the bartender was looking at you expectantly, “oh! i’ll take a gin and tonic please!!” you panic ordered not being able to come up with anything else on the spot. “so sorry,” you quickly added as the bartender turned to make your drink. mentally you scolded yourself for not being able to get it together but boy was keeping it together hard when the max verstappen was very much taking up your personal space.
after thanking the bartender for your drinks, max took a step back allowing you to turn and look at him. he was in a pair of his classic skinny jeans, a backwards black cap, a black tshirt that hugged his arms perfectly and he wore a soft smile as he looked down at you with his big blue eyes. “wanna dance?” you asked before taking a gulp of your drink.
max’s grin grew, “absolutely.” you decided not to give him any time to reconsider and instead grabbed his hand and drug him out to the dance floor. you could feel eyes on you both but you didn’t care. “i should likely preface this with the fact that i’m not much of a dancer,” max admitted sheepishly. he was taking note of how close you both were now. you had stopped rather abruptly in the middle of the dance floor leaving him so close to you that he could steal your breath if he really wanted and oh boy did he want to.
you laughed effortlessly, “everyone is a dancer if they try hard enough, max!" The DJ began playing a remix of one of your favorite songs and max watched intently as you began moving to the music. He threw back the remainder of his drink and made quick work of discarding it, feeling more courageous now.
you quickly noticed max was still very much standing completely still. “it’s all in the hips,” you cooed putting your free hand on his hips and pushing him so he would move. max obliged and began swinging his hips back and forth timidly, not having a ton of room to move out at the center of the dance floor. "atta boy!" you praised giving him a smirk.
max almost choked on air at that comment from you — what could he say? he was a sucker for praise and that comment gave him the confidence he needed to place both hands on your hips and pull you in so that your body fit snuggly against his own. max had a feeling that this was going to be a very good night.
~~
f1gossip has made a post
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liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6 and 26,264 others
f1gossip: last night max verstappen and actress y/n y/l/n were seen attending a party with many of the grid members. they seem to have gotten very cozy out on the dance floor sharing quite a few kisses. it’s also reported that the pair were seen leaving together at the end of the night.
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user1: OMG WHAT MY WORLDS COLLIDING
user2: nah he looks so fine in that hat omg
user8: i knew him offering that hot lap had to mean something
user6: they’re both so hot i’m sure their night was … actually imma stop myself before i get banned
user3: this was orchestrated by alex and rebecca i just know it
user8: i could see charles and lando getting in on it too tbh
user4: jealousy doesn’t look pretty on me but dear lord am i jealous
user5: he may have bagged the baddest baddie alive.. how did he manage that in those skinny jeans
user4: listen those skinny jeans make his thighs look real biteable
user5: and you got me there
user9: need more max and y/n content asap
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🤍
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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paddockletters · 9 months ago
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only girl (in the word) | lando norris
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pairing: lando norris x reader summary: Lando and y/n enjoy a night out at a club with friends, but when some girls try to get close, he doesn't allow it and gives you your place as always. author's note: I took inspiration from a tiktok that I saw some time ago and I wanted to write it, so I hope you like it 😭😭
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The lights of the nightclub flickered as the music pulsed through the room, blending with the laughter and chatter of the crowd. I leaned back against the VIP section, sipping my drink and watching Lando at the DJ booth with Martin. Both of them were having a blast, messing around with the controller and hyping up the crowd. Nights like this had become a regular thing for us—a little bit of fun, music, and good company with our tight-knit circle.
Even though Lando was always in the spotlight, we had managed to keep our relationship pretty private. Only our closest circle knew. It wasn't that we were hiding it, but having a relationship in the spotlight of F1 could be… overwhelming. It allowed us to just be us without the pressure of prying eyes and the constant speculation from fans or media.
I was watching him goof off with Martin when I felt someone nudge me. I turned to see Max (Fewtrell) , one of Lando’s closest friends, grinning as he leaned over to speak, his voice barely audible over the music.
"He's having the time of his life up there, isn't he?" Max said with a chuckle, motioning toward Lando, who was pretending to DJ like a pro.
"He really is. I’m just waiting for him to mess something up.” I laughed, nodding.
Max laughed, his eyes scanning the dance floor before he leaned closer.
"You know, it’s funny—he never really used to like these kinds of nights before you."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah," Max nodded. "He’d always be the one leaving early, saying he had training or a race coming up. But ever since you guys started hanging out, he sticks around longer. Seems to enjoy it more. I think you’re a good influence on him."
"Maybe I’m just more fun than his training sessions." I smiled at the thought.
"Definitely more fun," Max teased, giving me a wink before heading off to join a few other friends.
I took another sip of my drink, feeling the warmth spread through me, both from the alcohol and Max’s words. I glanced back toward the DJ booth, catching Lando’s eye as he looked over at me, a playful grin on his face. He gave me a quick wink before returning to the music, his fingers moving over the controls like he knew exactly what he was doing.
It was then that I noticed a group of girls edging closer to him. One in particular seemed determined to get his attention, her phone already in hand, angling for a selfie or a picture with him. She was bold, stepping right up to him, bottle in hand, and attempting to take the one Lando was holding.
I watched as Lando paused, his smile fading slightly. He gently pushed her hand away, not rough, but firm enough to make his point. I could see him looking around, scanning the crowd until his eyes found mine. His expression softened immediately, and without hesitation, he motioned for me to come closer.
I could feel the girls' eyes on me as I made my way over. Their glances were sharp, the kind of looks that were meant to make you feel out of place, but I wasn’t about to let that ruin the night. Lando didn’t say a word when I reached him, just slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine in a protective, almost possessive way.
"Hey," he whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."
"Good," he said, leaning in closer. "Because I want you right here with me."
He pulled me in even tighter, and I rested my head on his shoulder for a moment, letting the music and the energy of the club surround us. Lando kissed the top of my head, a small gesture, but one that made me feel like the only person in the room.
Just then, Martin leaned over, grinning at us.
"Oi, Lando! You better be careful up here, mate. You’re making her fall for you all over again!"
"That’s the plan, mate!" Lando laughed, his arm never leaving my waist.
"You’re such a dork." I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging him.
"But I’m your dork," he replied with a cheeky grin.
As the night wore on, we danced, laughed, and enjoyed every second. The crowd seemed to disappear, and it was just us, lost in our own little world. But every now and then, I’d catch one of the girls from earlier casting a glance our way, her lips curled in a smug smile as if she was waiting for me to crack under the pressure of being in Lando’s orbit.
It didn’t bother me, not really. Lando had always made sure I knew my place in his life. He wasn’t the type to flirt with random girls or let anyone come between us. But I couldn’t deny that the whispers, the glances, they got under my skin just a little.
After a while, Lando leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "You wanna get out of here?"
I nodded, grateful for the offer. The night had been fun, but I was ready for something quieter, something just for us.
"Yeah, let’s go."
He grabbed my hand, guiding me through the crowd, past the girls who had been eyeing us all night. One of them whispered something to her friend as we passed, but I didn’t catch it. I didn’t need to. The look on her face said enough.
As we stepped outside, the cool night air hit my skin, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Lando squeezed my hand, pulling me close.
"You okay?" he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.
I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to brush it off, but decided against it.
"It’s just… sometimes it’s hard being around people who don’t really get us, you know?"
Lando frowned, his thumb brushing gently over the back of my hand. "Did something happen inside?"
I shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It’s nothing, really. Just some girls being… well, girls."
"What did they say?" Lando stopped walking, turning to face me fully.
I shook my head, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.
"It’s not what they said, it’s just... their looks. Like they were waiting for me to mess up or something. I don’t know. I guess I’m not used to it."
Lando’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping mine a little harder.
"You know you don’t have to worry about that, right? I’m with you. Only you."
I smiled, touched by his words.
"I know. I just—sometimes it feels like I’m always being watched. Like I’m never enough."
Lando’s expression softened, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. "You’re more than enough. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you aren’t. Especially not them."
I hugged him back, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and for the first time that night, I felt at ease. With Lando by my side, the whispers, the looks—they didn’t matter.
As we pulled apart, he leaned down and kissed me gently, his lips lingering on mine for just a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, he grinned.
"Come on, let’s go home. I think we are going have a more fun night there."
"Yeah, let’s get out of here." I laughed softly, nodding in agreement.
And with that, hand in hand, we left the nightclub behind, ready to end the night our way—together.
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23xfgg · 3 months ago
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YANDERE! BATFAM x DRUG USER/SOBER! READER
(Ch. 1)
Ch. 2 <-
(Ch. 3)
(Ch. 3.o5)
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An // this is part 2 of drug user / sober! Reader and I would like to thank you guys for actually liking the last one even though it wasn’t great. I do want to clarify that there won’t be any speech in this as I’m terrified of writing dialogue sorry <3
Again I’m sorry if this sounds messy and disjointed
I will also try making a tag list (max 10 or 20) that would be included at the end of the chapters.
TW// death, drugs, depression, drinking
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It has been a couple of months since you stumbled across the drug party and met Adam. Your friendship with him started as aquenences who know nobody else but each other at the function to becoming quite close. You obviously had no way to contact him other than when you see each other at the “drug pit”.
Sometimes there would just be people popping pills, drinking, smoking, snorting, etc with only a few words being shared here or there. Other days it’s like a full blown party. The place is cramped, people are rubbing their bodies on others, coke lines on a random girls chest, mixing all kind of substances together and of course music blasting so loud people outside can hear it. This place feels like a second home to you. The first being your life with your mother and never including the manor.
Thinking about that place just gives you more reason to down another shot and buy a lollipop from a suspicious man in the corner.
Your addiction was a slow start, from turning up at the alley once a week to only smoke weed and gradually increasing to popping pills, drinking along with smoking. And your presence there increased from once a week to now almost every other day. Your frequency to turning to those drugs only ever increased when Damian just has to remind you that your existence will never amount to anything and you might as well save the whole family a favour and just disappear.
Honestly, even when you tried to ignore it his words did have an effect on your mental health, making you feel more depressed. And the depression will lead to grief as you just wish your life was normal before your mom died. You missed how she will hold you when you felt sad. She knew words had little effect so she just let her presence comfort you. Feeling safe in her arms surrounded by her floral perfumes gave you a sense of security. A security now lost because she is gone. She’s not there to hold you and comfort you. So now you resort to crying out on your pillows and popping a few pills whenever you smell the slightest trace of her clean floral perfume.
To keep your “family” off your back about your actions (which wasn’t that hard) you had a simple routine after school to keep any suspicion off you. After school you spent some time in your room, changing into a hoodie and ripped jeans, telling Alfred you will be with a friend and not to say any dinner for you and then you’re off.
Off to have whatever fun you want without any of the judging eyes you would get from the bat family. Whatever fun you want without having to avoid eye contact with your “father” Bruce and his disapproving glare. All the fun you want without a tiny body big attitude gremlin (who is sadly you half brother) telling you how much of a disappointment and a failure you are to the Wayne name.
It was so easy to hide you habits from them when they themselves don’t notice you. You take little care in making sure the spotlight of their attention was not on you. Not like it was hard to begin with. They were always buys with some shit regarding themselves.
You knew all the best hiding spots around Gotham. Including the manor. So you hid your stash based on importance/ how offer you would reach for it. Your pills and week you keep in a shoebox place under creaky floor boards in your room. The slightly harder stuff you have them hidden behind loose bricks, abandoned buildings and in alleyways. And some extra cash in all those spots. Heck, you even have thoes shoes that have compartments in the hell to hide your stuff in when the manor gets a little to risky to leave stuff alone.
You have taken (not) every necessary steps to ensure that the rest of them don’t find your little part time hobby, even when you know they won’t pay enough attention to notice (or will they…). But still as long as it stays with you in the shadows it will be easier as the days go by.
You have thought about quitting. But that was just a brief thought. The high and comfort was just too much for you to leave. It helped you cope. It helped keeping you out of your own dark thoughts. You never had to think of anything regarding your life when you’re high.
All you need was just pills and a joint and you are almost as happy when your mom was alive.
Almost…
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An // ahh this chapter is shiiiitt. I srs don’t know what to do here 😭😭😭
I have plans for more chapters that may or may not come just be patient and ignore the mess that is my writing.
Tag list (if I have forgotten you I’m sorry pls just comment and I will add you in the next one) : @welpthisisboring @vanessa-boo @shycreatorreview @jsprien213 @1abi
Bye bye now 🤘
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madamadamiu · 29 days ago
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LOST LIGHT CAT SHELTER AU MASTERPOST!!!!
Well, people ended up liking my silly little cat shelter way more than I thought lmao. It was born out of doodles that I do at my job during down time! Now, some things to acknowledge:
Asks:
Disclaimer about inappropriate asks
Important notice regarding Character AIs
I’m getting way more asks about the shelter than I ever thought I would! Thank you all so much for the praise, questions, and HCs for the AU!!!! I’m having an absolute blast reading everyone’s writing. That being said, I will not be able to answer everyone’s asks due to the sheer amount of them😭🙏
FAQ:
Can i draw your au/draw my au with yours?
YES!!!!! I adore seeing what ideas everyone has!!! Make sure to tag me or use the lost light cat shelter tag so I can see it and shower you with praise!!!
Can I adopt a cat?
The real question is can you handle all that?
Will there be a plot at some point?
There is a “main” comic which follows a plot!
Tag sorting:
(Click on a tag at the bottom of the post to view categories!)
My art/writing: lost light cat shelter
Writing specifically: lore
Other’s art/writing: omg fanart
Asks: miu asks
Table of Contents 👇
The lore heavy posts:
Each cat’s profile(writing)
The model sheet(art)
The human characters(writing)
Misc. trivia(writing)
Ratchet lore(writing)
Megatron in the rain(art)
Rung glamour shot(art)
About Wobbly Roddy(writing)
Pharma is DEAD!!!(writing)
Drug facts(writing)
Sleepy(art)
Cute misc. lore(writing)
The main comic:
#1:Megatron: pages 1-2
#1:Megatron: pages 3-4
#1: Megatron: page 5
#1: Megatron: page 6-7(end)
#2: Rodimus: pages 1-2
#2: Rodimus: page 3
#2: Rodimus: pages 4-5
The silly posts:
Doodle dump #1
Fort Max too big
Wobbly Roddy
Unstoppable force vs very movable object
Dratchet cuddles
The Ultra Magnus Cat Tree Incident
Introducing Ravage
Roddy Moment
Percy’s Scope
Drift take ur meds
Roddy n Mags moment
Red Alert does(not) get squished
Tailgate Soul of Cinder
Roddy and Drift get the zoomies and commit thievery
Used Napkin Ratchet
Ultra Magnus Files an OSHA Complaint
Swerve with a bowtie
Nautica BLEHHHH :3
Minimus Appears
That fucking bird that I hate
Megatron’s cheeks
Red Alert’s Revenge
Roddy’s Eating Struggles
Shaved Ratchet
Judgement
Ravage plays poker
Velocity sits down
Young vs Old Ratchet
Baby Roddy
Ravage’s struggles
Fort Max Post
Ravage Sweeps
Baby Roddy pt. 2
Baby Fort Max
Babby Megs
Megs and Terminus
Ultra Maggy biiiig stretch
Babby dratchet
Red Alert Burrito
Patpatpatpatpat
Idiot’s three
Poor Red
Megs n Mags
Baby Roddy pt 3
Perceptor’s Experiment
Stinky Megatron
First Aid Moment
The silly ladies!
Roddy the conman
Cygate gets stuck
Minimus’s process
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mywritersmind · 25 days ago
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AVOIDANCE - LN4
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summary : Lando can’t help but keep his on you. You’re beautiful, talented, sharp as nails… just enough to wreck him. That doesn’t change the fact that he wants you. In fact, it only motivates him more.
listen up : daniel riccardo cadillac teammate!! 21st team. if you didn’t know, i have a driver x lando fic up on wattpad! i kinda wanna re write it bc i miss it so much and think it could be sm better! anyway i hope you like this!!
words : 6850
⋆。‧˚⋆
Tate Mcrae’s ‘Just Keep Watching’ blasted through the speakers just as the podium trophies were awarded to the top three. 
Miami was hot and grueling for all the drivers, but specifically the finishers of P2 and P3.
Carlos and Alex stood below, watching their co workers get awarded, soon joined the newest addition to this season. “So what’s the deal with Lando and-”
He didn’t even need to finish, the two men already knew the name that would ghost his lips. “He’s in love with her, what else?” Alex said, crossing his arms to watch Lando pop his champagne. 
The crowd screams made Carlos correct Alex even louder, “He’s got a crush on her!” They watched as Oscar sprayed Lando’s back, Lando trying to retaliate but failing due to the amount of champagne in his eyes. 
“Always has!” Alex added, a flash of a silver race suit catches the crowds attention, the suit less important than who’s wearing it- someone that’s becoming more familiar to the top steps these days. “It’s been going on for years…”
Franco frowned, bringing his water bottle to his lips just as she faked Lando out with her bottle of champagne just to drink it, looking him dead in the eye while doing it. “She doesn’t know?” 
Carlos and Alex stared at Franco, poor, innocent, fresh blood, Franco… He had no clue how far their story went, no idea what has gone down. Alex and Carlos both sigh, knowing far too much about their twisted little dynamic, “Oh she knows…” Alex mumbled. 
“He doesn’t care that she knows and hasn’t done anything?” Franco looked so shocked at this that it almost made Carlos laugh. 
“Oh no… I think it turns him on even more.”
⋆༺
I hate fish
I hate gin
I hate paper cuts 
I hate losing 
I hate Lando Norris. 
And yet, the smile that tugs at his lips while he watches me pour the winning liquid down my throat, makes me think- only for a second, how could I ever hate him? 
Him and his stupid freckles. Him and his bloody need to make space for himself in my life. 
I stopped hating Lando a while ago. It lingers in my thoughts sometimes, but I'm pretty sure it’s a reflection of how I feel about myself. 
“Don’t give me that look, sev.” We’re still standing on the podium, the shaken champagne dropping low in Oscars hands. “Come out with us tonight.”
“P3 isn’t a celebration for me.” I say flatly, ignoring the nickname he’s pinned on me since getting one glance at the number 7 in our karting days. 
“Doesn’t mean you can’t still party.” The way his lips curve makes my heart race faster, something I'll tell myself is just the adrenaline from the race. 
“You’re coming to the party?” Oscar says brightly, shining in bubbly as he wipes his eyes. 
I nod, keeping it short and standing on the top step with the boys with me, smiling for the cameras, wondering how different it will be when I actually stand up here alone. 
“Oh so you’ll come with Osc but not me?” Lando holds his trophy, waving to the crowd distractingly. 
“Of course I will, I like him more than you.” I’m not lying, not really. I don’t miss the way Lando’s jaw tenses, only a split second that could be missed by a blink before he goes back to smiling and slapping Oscar on the back. 
⋆༺
I do go with Oscar, sitting in the back of the car while my pregame shot sets in and Oscar rattles away on the phone with Lily. 
The club is just what I expected, maybe just what I needed. Alex sees me first, making me genuinely smile while dragging me over to the others. He’s awfully happy for the circumstances of his race. 
Daniel is doing shots with Max, probably celebrating his return to F1 for the millionth time. Isack, Pierre, and Ollie pull me into their conversation immediately after congratulating me. The two frenchmen are explaining football rivalries to Ollie, who sips his drink and gives me confused looks once and a while. 
It’s just about the time when I'm drowning out the boys and wondering why I'm not drinking yet, when I see him. Lando walks across the floor with Franco by his side, he’s in all black, his curls grown out and a drink in each hand. 
Franco leans in to Lando after they both notice me. While Franco talks, Lando’s eyes are on me. On my legs, on my heels, on my scrap of a top. They’re still on me when Franco stops talking. His reaction is a mix of laughter and uncertainty, his eyes darting away from me in the middle of his response. That’s how I know it’s about me. 
“Fran, I’d rather you talk about me to my face.” Franco laughs at this, pulling me into a side hug as I mess up his hair. 
“Start drinking before he keeps talking, it helps.” Lando hands me one of the drinks in his hands. It’s a martini. I pause before I take it and as if he reads my mind, he says, “Vodka, not gin.”
Everyone around us starts yelling and clapping at the exact same time. Making me pull my eyes from Lando and to Oscar, who smiles shyly at the welcome. 
“Our race winner!” Lando holds up his glass, he’s so chill, an easy smile on his lips even though we all know people could have been saying that to him. 
I love being with the rest of the grid, even if my intention last year was to have no friends, only enemies. My words clearly hasn’t panned out well because each of them has weaseled their way into my heart, new and old. 
The only thing I dislike about being out with them is that women flock to us. I mean, the girls are pretty and usually nice, but it also means that my friends are pulled away by mini skirts and bras. 
Don’t get me wrong, guys find me as well. It’s just that the ones that do happen to have a lot of confidence, walking into a crowd of fit F1 men who would likely fight for my honor… they happen to fall in the category that I call: False drunken confidence and eyes for my tits only. 
So I stay away from the thirsty guys and stick with the ones who are alone due to the lack of their girlfriend not being here. Lando is always with us even though, to my knowledge, Lando is very single. 
I’ve seen him flirt with girls, letting them slip their hands to his hair and kissing his neck cheekily. I’ve seen him wave goodbye with a pretty blonde on his arm, but never, in my two years in formula one, have I ever gone out and had Lando not talk to me. 
“That girl is staring you down like you’re edible.” Pierre sips his drink, nodding to the blonde girl who is doing just what he said. 
Lando looks at her, not flirty or teasing, just blinks before looking back at Pierre, “She looks about nineteen.”
“She’s twenty one.” Franco says, making us all look at him, “What? I talked to her.” I raise my brow at him just as the others mumble words of disbelief, “Okay- I made out with her.” He rolls his eyes. 
“Great. I don’t want your sloppy seconds, sounds paddock bunny like.” Lando shakes his head, leaning back into the couch and slipping his arm around the back of it- around the back of where I'm sitting. 
His jacket is over my legs, Lando saw the length of my skirt and my frown when everyone else sat and so easily handed it to me without another word. 
Franco starts fidgeting in his seat, “I need to dance, who’s with me?” None of the guys move. He turns to me, smiling ear to ear and holding out a hand, “My queen.” 
I almost say no simply because I hate the nickname the grid has dubbed me. I’m the only woman on the grid, something a bit awkward to navigate sometimes, but also something that the other drivers acknowledge but never really talk about. 
“I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you dance with Lando instead.” Ollie says suddenly, making my eyes narrow and Lando drag his hand over his face. 
“I’d give a hundred bucks to not do that.” I stand, throwing Lando’s jacket beside him and making him peak up at me. I don’t mean to sound so mean, but I don’t really know how else to respond to that. 
Not when I know he wants me to say yes, not for money or jokes, either. 
“Why will you dance with Franco and not Lando? Either is ending up posted somewhere tomorrow.” Carlos just has to remind me of the existence of phones and social media. 
I take Franco’s hand, “Franco likes older women.” He grins at this. 
“You are older than him!” Lando laughs, his eyes meeting mine and shining green in the strobe lights. 
I can’t help but smirk, shrugging and tugging the younger man away, “C’mon, Fran.” 
⋆༺
My free week is spent with training, getting coffee with Alex’s girlfriend, and trying to calm my mind by reading. 
I’m back in the air too soon, flying with Max and Daniel who surprise me with a special guest… Lando. Flying with my teammate and basically his husband means that Lando and I are third and fourth wheeling. 
I’m curled up in my seat, headphones on and book in hand while the boys play some card game. “Sev!” I hear Lando scream, making me pull of my headphones and hum in response.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Max asks as if they wouldn’t know the second a guy even asked me out. 
“No. Why?”
Daniel grins, looking over his seat at me, “I have someone for you.” 
My eyes narrow, “If it’s Lando, the answer is no.”
I see the brit frown, mumbling, “Why not?” 
“It’s not Lando.” Daniel says, making Lando physically react and sitting up straight to look at his friend, “He’s a driver-”
“Immediately no.” 
Max laughs out loud while Daniel rolls his eyes, “It’s rally-”
“Absolutely not.” Lando scoffs, earning a suspicious look from me. 
“You have no say in this, buddy.” Max tugs the hood of Lando’s hoodie over his head, Lando shoving him right back. 
“I have a girl for you, Lando.” I say, crossing my legs to get more comfortable in the two seats I’m taking up. 
“Is it you?” He shoots back quickly. 
“No.” 
“Then I don’t want her.” He says it teasingly but his eyes are on me, his usual smirk gone. 
None of the guys flirt with me except for Lando. Franco has said some joking remarks but apart from some drunken compliments, they’re like my brothers. Not Lando though, never Lando. 
I’ve known him since karting as the nerdy little boy who liked all of my instagram pictures and fought me on track. Now he’s the nerdy formula one driver who’s annoyingly hot and wildly confusing, still fighting me on track. 
Daniel whistles slowly, my eyes pulling away from Lando and back to my book. His eyes stay on me, I can fucking feel it. 
They go back to their game and when we land in Italy, I leave that plane with one plan in mind: beating them. 
⋆༺
“Hey sev.” I’m not happy to hear him, or see him. Except the way he looks might help a little bit. 
“Fuck off, Norris.” He shouldn’t even be near the Cadillac garage. 
My lap got deleted so I'll be starting P15. Lando’s P4 and even he’s upset about it. I’d give anything to switch with him. 
He doesn’t roll his eyes, just crosses his arms and leans closer. “Be nice to me, you rejected me on the plane.” 
I blink. “I always reject you.” 
He nudges my arm, looking away to scan the paddock before sighing, “God forbid a man speak his truth.” 
“What do you want, Lan?” 
“You?” He grins ear to ear and I hate that it makes me smile. “Hold on!” He opens his phone and puts it up to my face. 
“What!?”
He pockets his phone, “Just a reminder that I can still make you smile.”
“Still?” I raise my brow. 
“Don’t act like we didn’t cry laugh back in karting.” 
“Seven years ago!”
“And I stick with my feelings.” 
Someone whistles behind us, “Ay, lover boy!” It’s Daniel, he’s grinning like an idiot next to a sky sports camera man. 
I push Lando away but he grabs my hand to pull me back, “You’re gonna start rumors.” I say, very aware of the cameras on us. 
He doesn’t miss a beat, “Go out with me and then they won’t be rumors, just facts.” 
⋆༺
I don’t date drivers. I did once. Never again will I go back to that. There’s many reasons for him specifically, but a relevant one for anyone on the grid is that social media sees something and runs with it. 
Lando isn’t shy when talking about me, he’s never openly said he thinks i’m hot on camera but the way he talks to me, the subtle flirty words that get picked up in cooldown rooms… we have a fucking ship name now. 
Sour. Seven with Four; also a hint at how I feel about this little hashtag. Technically it’s pronounced ‘soar’ but I like Sour much more. 
It’s gone so far that even the other drivers will address us as Sour, even though there’s never a real need to group us together, they think it’s hilarious. 
The race goes okay from my position, ending up P7 and checking in on Kimi who couldn’t finish his home race. The weekend goes back so fast that the next thing I know, i’m on that fucking plane again. 
I’m watching the race back when Lando sits across from me, closing my screen without saying anything. 
I pull the red vine out of my mouth, “The fuck- Norris!” 
“You’re over analyzing.” He puts his feet up on my chair, wearing sweats and bright red socks. 
“I’m trying to get better.” 
“Seeing every tiny mistake you make isn’t gonna win you races.” He says flatly, “I would know.”
“At least you’ve won a race.” 
“Talk to me when you’re six years in and not two in a brand new team.” He reaches over and grabs a red vine before slouching in his seat, his curls pressing against the leather.
I breathe out, “I want to win.” 
“Then beat Max. Beat Oscar- Beat me!” He shrugs, biting into the candy. “Just chill on the race stuff when we’re 40,000 feet in the air.”
“What do you propose I do instead?” 
“Um… Watch Crazy Rich Asians like a normal person? Talk to me? Drink champagne. Play strip poker-”
“Lando!” 
He’s laughing now, “Sorry! I had to! It’s just… every second of every day is about racing for us, which is good, keeping us focused right? But I've seen people burnout…” He glances back at Danny who’s laughing with Max, “It’s not fun.”
I cross my arms, smiling a bit. “You just want me to talk to you.”
The corner of his lip tugs upwards, “I want you to beat me.”
“Don’t tell me it’s a kink of yours.” 
He full on laughs now, making my stomach twist. Lando stands, coming over to my side and sitting next to me just to open computer, “I’ll give you my netflix password.”
As soon as we land, Daniel and I have to go to a Cadillac event together. He drives while I do my makeup in the passenger seat, “So… you and Lando talked like- the whole flight.”
“It was short.” 
He hums, rocking his shoulders, “Sure but an hour is a long time to talk non-stop.” 
“We’re friends.” I rub my lips together, touching up my lip liner. 
Daniel lets out a laugh while I pop open my lipgloss, “I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear that.”
“Will you shut it? We are.”
I can hear how unconvinced he is in the tone of his voice, “Friends who flirt.” 
“Lando flirts with me for fun- he knows people think it’s funny.”
Daniel glances at me, speechless for a second. “You can’t honestly believe he’s saying that shit for laughs… right?”
⋆༺
Being with girls after spending every moment of my day competing with men is like running through a field of daisies. Alexandra and Lily make me feel so refreshed and happy, even during a triple header!
We walk along the Monaco harbor, saying which yacht we would want or what we would name them, before heading out to get lunch. 
The place is unbelievably packed, making us all realize that we need to get better at planning and me to get over my fear of making reservations. 
I swear, I think i’m imagining his voice at first. But then, a head of dark curls and tanned body comes into view, “Hey pretty!” 
Lando already has a table because- of course he does. When Lando greets us, it’s like the waitress gains consciousness and realizes who I am. I’m somehow dragged to a table with Lando and his best friend, Max Fewtrell. The five of us sit at a table for three. 
Alex leaves midway through our drinks, having to go earlier than expected which leaves Lily and I, who are only able to laugh at who sits across from us. 
The table is less crowded now and surprisingly, we get on pretty well. Although I do think it’s mostly Max and his cheery personality. 
He’s genuinely hilarious and any tension that I expected is soon forgotten about after we order. Someone comes up and asks for a picture with Lando and I. We do it but I can’t help but cringe at the thought of #sourhavinglunchtogether going viral. 
Not one moment goes by where we’re not talking, every breath overtaken by someone else’s thoughts on whatever topic we bring up. Lily takes a selfie to send to Alex who promptly sends a million laughing emojis. 
After the millionth time that Max makes me laugh, Lando speaks up, half joking, half serious. “Why do you like all my friends more than me?”
“Maybe because they don’t hit on me every chance they get.” Now i’m half joking and half serious. 
He’s quiet the rest of the lunch, popping in jokes as usual but something’s off and he’s horrible at hiding it. 
Alex picks up Lily after our lunch, saying hello quickly before taking his girlfriend away from me. Max is on the phone when Lando awkwardly comes up to me. 
“You know, If I make you uncomfortable… I’ll stop.” It comes out of nowhere. For a second, I don’t know what he means, but then I remember my remark about him hitting on me and it clicks. 
I cringe, hating this conversation already. Do I want him to stop? Do I really just like it because of the attention? Or because it’s coming from him?
He looks worried- like he’s scared that he’s actually crossed a line. “You don’t make me uncomfortable- I just… don’t get it.”
His brows furrow, his hands in his pockets and his eyes too green for this world. His voice is serious when he says it, “You don’t get why I hit on you?” 
I don’t know what to say to that. I always know what to say- especially to him. But now… he’s looking at me as if the last two years have been a joke at his expense. 
Max joins us right before I can answer, saying something about his girlfriend and how he needs to head back. I just nod along, still looking over to Lando who won’t face me. 
⋆༺
Monaco is cloudy today and I'm suddenly very glad I picked out jeans and a sweater for this morning. I’ve spent the week on runs, doing press, and meeting up with some old friends. It’s been a quiet few days, something surprising since it’s still race week. I tap my pass against the entrance, expecting to hear the usual chime of acceptance, but when I start to walk, I'm stopped by metal.  
I frown and try again, but no luck. I’m about to try for a third time when, it finally chimes. But it’s not my paddock pass that slides against the machine with ease, I can tell just by the large veiny hand that holds it. 
I look back to see his face and my stomach does that thing again- he’s so close and for a second, I'm swallowed whole by a mess of curls and beauty marks. 
That second is soon over because without so much as looking at me, he nods to the people inside and says, “Go.” 
I mumble a quick thanks before moving through the metal and into the paddock. I try not to make a face, aware of the amount of cameras on me, but what the fuck is going on?
Lando’s been avoiding me. 
This has never happened before… I haven’t talked to him all week and it’s already Saturday. Well, unless you count that encounter that has me blushing and cringing all at once.
No. Sorry- No. Not blushing. My cheeks are just red from the sun… the sun on a cold and cloudy day. 
⋆༺
“Are you okay?” Daniel asks, standing in the doorframe of my drivers room while i’m spread out on my couch. 
“I’m great.” I mumble because, I am! P2 in quali. In Monaco! I should be way happier than I am.  
“Are you sure…?” 
“Do you think Lando’s mad at me?” I don’t look at him when I say it, I can’t. It’s wholly too embarrassing. 
I can practically hear the way his eyebrows raise, “I don’t think so. Has he been acting differently?” 
I sit up, “Today he apologized for walking past me.” He had his hand on my waist so I wouldn’t fall or panic. He was in a rush, but snatched his hand away the second I looked back at who was moving so fast. 
“Basic etiquette?”
I laugh, “Not for Lando.”
“Well, do you want me to ask? Maybe he’s just locked in for tomorrow.” 
“No!” I scramble, “No that’s okay! I don’t care. It’s good like this, quiet.” 
Daniel just smiles and leaves me alone. 
The truth is, I can’t do this anymore. I spent the whole of Saturday looking for him. What the fuck has happened to me? 
When I run into him- yes, physically, On sunday morning, I spit it out. “What’s wrong with you?”
He blinks, “Sorry?” 
We’re both in our race suits, orange and silver are not a good pair. “You’ve been weird this whole week- can you like act normal? Did something happen?” 
He starts to say something but stops before it can come out. “I thought you wanted this.”
I’m the confused one now. “What?” 
He looks around but no one’s close enough to hear, “I mean, the whole thing at lunch. You said you don’t like it when I hit on you and it’s really hard not to hit on you-”
“I told you it didn't make me uncomfortable.” 
“Max said something about it too and then that post…” He trails off, like he’s scared to make me uncomfortable again. 
A post went viral of all the reasons why Lando and I are secretly dating. It’s shit and honestly, a good laugh, but not that serious. 
“It’s fine.” I cross my arms instinctively, “I thought you were mad at me.” 
Lando rolls his eyes and when he looks back at me, I can feel the shift in the air. “Don’t tell me you’ve missed the flirting.”
“No!” I say a bit louder than necessary, “It’s just- your fans have noticed.” 
He’s grinning now, stepping closer. “My fans?”
I need to shut up. I turn sharply and start walking away, “Bye, Norris.” 
I can hear the smile in his voice. “Beat me today, Sev!”
I don't beat him. I give him some pressure on the last five laps- but Lando Norris wins Monaco and looks absolutely fucking beautiful while doing it. 
It reminds me of Miami- he can’t stop smiling. 
Me, Lando, and Oscar walk off the podium still laughing. Lando picks me up suddenly, his arms around my waist and making me scream. He shakes out his hair onto me- not as if it matters considering I'm soaked in just as much champagne as he is. 
“Put me d- Awh the back says your guys’ names in cursive! You look like you’re getting married!” I laugh. 
“I will keep you in air jail if you keep talking shit about our suits.”
He keeps me trapped against him until we get to the bottom of the stairs. Oscar gives me a look which distracts me so when Lando sets me down, I almost fall. 
His hand grabs my waist, my suit unzipped and his skin far too close to touching mine. “I’m not talking shit. The white looks good.”
He grins. “Did you just say I look good?” 
I roll my eyes, “I take it back, I want you to avoid me again.” I push him away, his touch leaving me while he smiles. 
“You’re a horrible liar.” He nudges my arm, “Come on, admit it. You missed me.”
I scoff, “I did not!” 
“Then why did you beg me to talk to you again?” 
“I did not beg you-”
“You can admit it, Sev. You’re in love with me. That’s okay! We can date in secret and watch our ship edits in bed with our dog.” 
My jaw actually drops. He’s ridiculous. “Our dog?” 
He points at me, walking away backwards while his PR manager says something to him. “You being shocked about the animal and not everything else I said tells me all I need to know!” 
⋆༺
“You can’t be tired!” Carlos snaps his fingers in front of my face, “You’re supposed to be the young one!” 
I can’t believe they’ve managed to drag me out to a club. Sure, I like to party- but not during a triple header! I’m partially discouraged from going because almost every guy brought their girlfriend and Lando won’t be there to keep my single ass company. 
The moment I think I want Lando with me is the same moment that I grab Alexandra and Rebecca, dragging them to the dance floor much to the dismay of their boyfriends. 
We laugh and sing and swing our hips until they are dragged away by said boyfriends. 
“Our queen!” Alex laughs when I pass him and Carlos, who bows. 
Franco is all up on some girl which makes me promptly turn around and head to the bar. “Just a water, thanks.” I say to the bartender. 
“Nothing stronger?” Someone says next to me. He’s the definition of tall, dark and handsome. 
I fake a laugh, trying to be polite at the obvious attempt to start talking to me. “Nope.”
“Can I get you something?” He asks, turning towards me now.
My smile falters, “Waters free.” 
He holds up his drink, swirling it around in the glass before holding it under my nose. I almost gag, tapping the counter and wondering where my water is. 
“Come on, let loose!” He laughs and I suddenly hate how close he is to me.  “Have you ever had a gin and tonic?” I’m immediately forced back to the memory of why my hatred of gin started. Yes, Max Verstappen is to blame. 
“She hates gin.” The voice doesn’t make me roll my eyes like usual, in fact, a wave of relief washes over me. 
His arm slips around my shoulders, looking up at the man who frowns at the sight of Lando. 
The bartender finally hands me my water. “Sorry mate- didn’t know she belonged to you.” 
Lando eyes him up and down, disgusted at his words, “Fuck off.” 
He leaves with a quick, uncomfortable, smile. Lando turns to me, his arm still around me and pulling us close. “Nice skirt.”
“Nice attitude. You’re good at faking the whole protective thing.” 
He smirks, “Faking?”
“I thought you were at the princes dinner, winner.” His nose scrunches at the last word. 
“It’s one in the morning, sev. Royalty doesn’t stay up that late- well, except for you.” He winks and my heart speeds up, the bartender sliding him a drink to match mine. 
“Couldn’t miss out on the party?” 
“Well, I heard you were here and couldn’t resist.” He shrugs, his arm falling from my shoulder to grab his water. “Anyone drunk yet?” 
“No but i’m pretty sure Franco is fucking a girl at our table…” This makes him laugh and once again, i’m reminded how lucky I am to even be around him, “Do you want to dance?” I say it fast, like maybe if it’s quick then he won’t hear me. 
He does. He looks surprised but not ready to risk me saying no. Taking my hand, Lando downs the rest of his water and pulls me onto the dance floor. 
I’m not drunk. I haven’t even had a sip of anything- but I feel like I'm fucking floating with him. 
We dance for a while- too long, probably. I end up back with Daniel and Oscar at the table, drinking water and laughing with them. 
Carlos joins us after I sit and I don’t think before saying, “Do you where Lando is?” I don’t miss the look that Oscar and Daniel share, I just chose to ignore it. 
Carlos just shrugs, “He went home with some girl.” 
⋆༺
I always forget how hard triple headers hit me until I’m woken up by Daniel because I fell asleep in my driver room. 
Spain is much hotter than Monaco, more crowded too. The fans here are insane and I absolutely love it. I’m scheduled for a press conference with Lando and Esteban, something i’m almost late for because of my impromptu nap. 
I sit on the side, Esteban in the middle of Lando and I. I sit through every boring question they ask Esteban and every irrelevant question they ask Lando. 
One question is finally directed at me, “Do you think your lack of wins is due to the space being dominated by men?” My heart races immediately. I hate getting asked these questions obviously but in front of a million cameras and the other drivers, it’s even worse. “We’ve seen you get emotional on track- you really believe you’ll be able to beat someone so mentally tough like say, Max or Oscar?” 
I’m not embarrassed now, just angry. The moderator tries to cut in, along with Esteban and Lando, but I get there first. “I’m not emotional, I just love my sport. Along with every other driver on the grid who shares everything with me except for the fact that they have something between their legs-”
I swear I hear Lando laugh. 
“As for the lack of wins, I'd like you to try and go up against the current top three drivers in the world who have cars and years of experience to back them.” I shift in my seat, sitting up with my mic closer to my lips, “In other words, I have my seat due to the same reason that will win me races someday soon. I wasn’t a diversity hire, I am the best for the job, unlike you who clearly needs to go back and learn how to ask appropriate questions.”  
Everyone is silent, the man who said the question is staring at me. I know my cheeks are red and despite my confident rant, I feel like I want to cry. 
Lando’s the first to speak, “Can we get him out of here?”
Lando’s waiting for me when I leave the conference room. Leaning against the opposite wall, his water bottle in hand and his ankles crossed. He stands up straight when he sees me, “Hey!” I start walking down the hallway, needing to just get out of there. He follows. 
“You handled that really well.” I mumble a thanks in response, staring at my feet as we walk, “He was a dickhead. You ripped him a new one though I'm really impressed- Like really, I’m proud of you!”
I stop walking before we walk out the door, turning to him and wrapping my arms around the man. It takes a second before he’s hugging me back, his hand slipping to my back. 
I take a deep breath. Lando smells like mint shampoo and something sweet, pulling me tighter to him. He feels like relief. 
“Are you okay?” He backs up a bit, keeping his hands on me. 
I nod, “Thank you.” 
He scrunches his nose, “For what?” 
“You’re a really good friend, Lan.”
He drops his hands after I call him a friend, slipping them into his pockets. God he looks too good for friendship- hat backwards with curls peaking out, his nose scar perfectly across his nose. Why are scars so hot!?
“So are you.” He says hesitantly.
I scramble for something to say- any topic would do, honestly. I just need him to stop looking at me like that. “You know, I was left to dance with Franco the other night.” 
He sways on his heels, “Couldn’t have been that bad, you’ve done it before.”  
“Hope it was worth it.” 
His eyes narrow, “Hope what was worth it?” 
“She. The girl you left with.”
He smiles- actually smiles! It’s heartbreaking, too pretty for this world. “Who told you that?” My heart drops. “Are you jealous or something?” 
“What! No!” I’m going to kill Carlos. 
He laughs, “Horrible liar, sev.”
“I am not jealous.” I scoff, “You’re the jealous one… Fuck off I probably have to go do crisis management for my little spiel.” I flip him off as I walk away. 
He shakes his head, walking the opposite way as me, I’m about to turn the corner when he says it, “Sev! For the record, no girl is worth more than you are.”
⋆༺
Oscar Piastri. 
Lando Norris. 
Me. 
Our qualifying lineup for the Spanish grand prix. 
Starting behind two mclarens- starting behind Lando! I’m in for a hell of a race. All I can do is pray for a miracle and trust myself. 
I do trust myself, I trust myself when I send it at the restart, passing Lando. I trust myself in the last three laps, shaving my proximity to Oscar down. 
I trust myself when, during the last lap- I pass him. It’s risky and for a second I'm scared that I could get a penalty… but then, there’s no one in front of me. 
The checkered flag is all I see and suddenly my race engineer is yelling in my ear and I think I'm crying. 
The second I get out of the car, I'm bombarded with people around me. Everyone’s congratulating me at once, Lewis high-fiving me at the same time Yuki pats my back. 
Everything is the perfect about of overwhelming, Oscar hugging me, Carlos screaming while Ollie pulls his phone out to video. 
My team embraces me with a million arm pats and tears, Daniel kisses my cheek before hugging me, whispering how well I did. 
I don’t see Lando until the cooldown room. We’re the first ones there and he scoops me up as if I weigh nothing. 
It’s different than our hug the other day- we’re both grinning ear to ear and when he tells me how proud he is of me, again, I tug him closer. 
I pull away first. “You beat me. Is this something I'm gonna have to get used to or…?” I laugh and push him away when Oscar enters. 
“Get a room.” He mumbles. 
“We’re in one.” Lando rolls his eyes, unzipping his suit. 
 Oscar frowns, “I’m not keen to join.” I laugh harder. 
⋆༺
We go to dinner. Not the club or a bar, a proper nice dinner with everyone I love in my life. My grid. 
I sit in between Daniel and Lando, eating Pasta and laughing way too hard for this nice restaurant. 
At some point, one of the rookies starts talking dating and we immediately fall into a rabbit hole of everyone’s dating life. 
“What about you Lando? Is that playboy reputation real?” Kimi asks, making Lando laugh and shake his head- yeah right. 
“I don’t really date…” He shrugs, “but I'm not a slut.”
I can’t hold in my laugh, “Right.”
“Right, what?” 
“The whole of Monaco has seen your-”  
“I need air.” Is all he says, standing up and walking right out the door. 
I look around, the table quiet and tension thick. 
“What’d I say?” No one answers, “Lando does date. Right?” 
They all either mumble something or shake their head. “Hello…? Am I missing something? Why wouldn’t Lando date?”
It’s Franco who says it. “It’s probably because Lando’s been in love with you for years and you still think it’s some joke.”
I didn’t think it was possible for this table to get even more uncomfortable. Yet here we are. 
Pierre hits Franco in the back of the head, they’re all staring at me. Expecting me to do something. 
I put my fork down, standing up and leaving the way Lando did. There’s no way… Sure I knew he had a crush but he still hooked up with other girls! Whenever I dated, which wasn’t often, he’d send a glare to the man but left us alone. 
Love? Lando Norris is not in love with me. 
I rush out the door, seeing Lando standing in the hot night air, “I need to know why you did all of it.”
He turns around, surprised to see me, apparently. “All of what-”
“The flirting! The comments! Everything! Lando- You can’t actually like me.” I can’t breathe. 
He makes me wait an agonizing two seconds, his mouth parted as he meets my eyes. “Why else would I do it, Sev?” His voice is soft and it reminds me that he’s never raised it at me. 
“But you… you were joking.” The look he gives me right there… like he’s shocked I could ever think that, I’ll never forget it. 
He breathes out, shaking his head like it physically hurts him to say, “I’m not stupid, sev… I know you don’t fancy me. Maybe some of the shit I said was in a joking way but I've never taken it back.”
I pause, getting madder by the second. “You are stupid. You teased me and flirted and basically wasted all of your energy on wanting me.” He doesn’t look hurt, just like he’s accepted it. “You can’t just not date because of me! You started a million rumors just by the way you look at me! You told my mom when you were thirteen that you would marry me one day! God- Norris!” I huff, running my hands through my hair like a maniac. I look at him, swallowing. He’s so beautiful, how could he ever not chose someone because of me? “The worst bit is that you let yourself think that the reason you’re stupid is because you didn’t give up.”
He doesn’t even process what I've said, “You’re right. I’m an idiot.”
“No.” It’s almost a laugh. “I am. I’m an idiot for never seeing how much you actually cared. And for pretending like I didn’t feel the same.”
His eyes dart to me. “What?” It’s no more than a whisper. 
“I’m sorry for taking so much time- I think I really like you and I have for a while.” We both freeze, the only sound being our breaths and the faint voices from inside. 
“Please tell me I'm not dreaming.” He steps closer to me, his hands drifting over my hips as I laugh. 
I look up at him, “What would you do if it was a dream?” 
He’s shaking his head now, “I’d never wake up.” And then he’s kissing me. Soft, careful… like I might break. 
I grab his face and hold him tight. I’m never letting go of him now. 
“This is the best day of my life.” I mumble into the kiss, making him laugh, “Beat Lando Norris and kissed him, save the date.” 
He pushes a strand of hair out of my face, “Took you long enough.” Lando winks before kissing me again. I can’t believe I never knew what he tasted like, how perfect he feels against me. 
He glances back to the door, “Ready?” 
“To get ruthlessly teased? Sure.” 
He takes my hand in his, “Worth it.”
When we walk back in, all Lando has to say is, “Don’t say a fucking thing.” They’re quiet for a moment, surprising us both, but then the whole table erupts in laughter and cheers. My family.
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urhoneycombwitch · 1 year ago
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common tongue of you lovin' me
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Eddie Munson x Reader loverboy smut of the touchstarved variety.
foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o
cw: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope
wc: 2.5k 
____
By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.
Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.
You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 
Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.
He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  
Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 
Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…
Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  
You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”
Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”
You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.
Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.
“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.
He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”
There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”
He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”
“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 
“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 
When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 
So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  
You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.
But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 
You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.
“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.
Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.
It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.
He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.
When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 
“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”
“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.
“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.
The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.
You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.
“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.
Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”
So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 
Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”
When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.
“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”
He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.
Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.
He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.
Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”
“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 
Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.
“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”
Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”
He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”
You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”
“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”
He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.
When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.
“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”
His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”
“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”
You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 
The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 
“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”
“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 
Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 
You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 
“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.
His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”
You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”
Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”
You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”
He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”
He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.
He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 
When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”
You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 
________
guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 
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