#(Be careful saying that Max He likes to go “Really? Let's see” and put you in a situation where you CAN)

[verstappentime]

divorce verse for your wednesday <3 this is from after max & dan break up. (the rest of this verse is here) (the scene previous to this will get finished but this is what i have today <3) The first night Daniel’s gone, Max walks into a fucking wall trying to go to the bathroom.

It’s happened before, because his depth perception is awful and worse in the dark and worse sometimes than others, but usually he hits knee-first or something. Nope, just a wall right to the orbital bone. 

It’s not something Daniel could have saved him from, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Daniel’s not there to be woken up by his cursing a blue streak and ask if he’s alright, to sit him down and put ice on it and make him feel less pathetic.

His head is throbbing, in a normal person kind of way. He’s going to have a massive goose egg. He finally gets to the light switch, very, very carefully, and tempts himself to go down the hall with the promise of crying about it afterward.

It’s easier, with the bedroom light illuminating the way. He makes it there and back okay. 

He needs to not call Daniel, but he’s groggy and worked up and he gets confused at night and– he’s just going to lose it if he can’t talk to someone. 

Daniel picks up on the first ring. He must still have Max excluded from do not disturb. Must be sleeping with the ringer on.

“I walked into the wall,” he says, before Daniel can get anything out. 

“What?” He can hear Daniel sitting up, sheets rustling. He should be scolding Max for calling in the middle of the night. He doesn’t. “Are you hurt?” 

“I hit my head. Or, like, my face. Both.” Max touches where the bruise is forming on his head. He kind of forgot what hurt that’s not coming from the inside feels like. He pokes it again. He’s lucky he hit on bone, probably, and that it wasn’t a corner and he’s not bleeding. “I don’t know,” he says, voice cracking. 

“Okay.” Daniel’s all calm. This kind of stuff never bothers him. Max wants him to be here. “You sound alright. You weren’t, like, running, right? Do you have a headache?”  “No. I think– I think I am okay.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, just to see how bad it hurts. “This is shit, Daniel.”

“We need to get you some of those lights you can turn on with your voice, yeah? I’ll look in the morning.” We. He’s going to have to stop that. Not right now.

“I can– I’ll do it.” 

“I’ll remind you, then. What do you want to do right now?” 

“I don’t know,” Max says again. “I don’t want to get up again.” He presses his knuckles to his teeth, something awful in his chest. “I feel shit that I called you already.” 

“I don’t care. It’s good you did. I was scared that you wouldn’t. Makes me feel better.” Daniel pauses. “Not that I’m like, glad you walked into a wall.” 

“It sounds very stupid when you say it out loud.” He knows it’s his fault, but he can’t help it: “What am I going to do? Just call you always?” 

“You can, baby.” Daniel never tells him no. Daniel let him leave because he never tells him no. “You have other people, though. They’ll be happy to answer. You can call your mum or Victoria or Charles. But also me, if you want to.” 

Max wants Daniel to tell him that’s unfair. But the idea of being cut off from the only person that really knows what it’s like for him makes him want to throw up. Charles would laugh at him for this one, even though he wouldn’t mean to. Max says, “I think I want to go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea. You want me to stay on?” 

“No. That will be very boring for you.” Max lays down, turning over on his side, his back to where Daniel should be. “Are you sleeping too?” 

“Yeah, Maxy, I’m going to.” 

“Okay. Then we will both go to sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Daniel says, all gentle. “I’m going to text you tomorrow, okay? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me after that. But I’ll remind you about the lights and ask about your face.” 

“That’s fine.” He can’t know if he’ll remember, and he really does not want this to happen again, and– and now he knows for sure he’ll hear from Daniel tomorrow. 

There’s a beat where neither of them know what to say, but Daniel’s the bravest and he says, “I love you. Goodnight.” 

“I– Me too, Daniel.” He can’t lie. Not about that.

[thegreenleavesofspring]

I have posted this before but it's been on my mind today so here it is again. An excerpt from a future story that will probably be published, eventually.

There is a perfunctory knock on the worn old door, and Max steps inside. "Thank you for taking time to see me, Pastor."

The neat little man turns away from the desk and offers his hand. “Max. Glad to do it. Coffee?”

"No, thank you, I've already had too much today." He laughs a little and sits down.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I do.” The pastor pours himself a cup from the corner table and sits down in the other leather armchair and props his ankle on his knee and says, “Alright. We can small-talk for a while or just get to killin’ rats. Not many guys ask to see me the second Sunday they start comin’. Your call.” He’s got a gentle Southerner’s lilt, his voice far deeper than his trim frame would suggest.

Max bites his thumb briefly before leaning forward, clasped hands between his knees. "I only started comin' t' church recently an' I got some... hypothetical questions."

“It’s a good kind to have.” An unhurried sip of coffee.

A deep breath. "Say a family lost their dad. A big family. Couldn't make it on just th' mom working. So some of the kids... started stealing. Shoplifting an' stealin' food. Ta keep the little ones alive." He looks up from his clasped hands to meet the pastor's eyes evenly. "Say... one of 'em found Jesus, later. Grown up. An'... he couldn't repent of stealin' stuff as a kid, couldn't be sorry he had, because it was all that kept his little brothers fed some days. What... what then."

A thoughtful run of silence. “I think I might find it interestin’ to know if the finding Jesus was accompanied by repentance of other less… desperate sorts of transgressions or not.”

Max looks down at his hands again, swallowing, Adam's apple bobbing. "Yes," he says softly, hands trembling slightly. He clasps them tighter. "It would be."

“There’s that bit in the Gospels where the Lord tells them Pharisees that they like to swallow camels and strain out gnats, you familiar with it?”

This jerks Max's head back up to look at him. "No."

“Well, the idea was that the religious elite of the day would pin fussy little sins on folks with one hand. Not washing their hands enough. Working on the Sabbath. That sort of thing. And with the other hand they’d be covering up sins like adultery and murder and hatred and greed.”

"I hear stealin' is pretty far up there."

The little pastor sits back in his chair, his arms and shoulders relaxed, the coffee steaming in his hand. He says, “What does this kid think that God is like? That might be a question worth pokin’ at.”

Max's knuckles whiten. "If he thinks of Him at all, it's that He's cruel."

“And what do you think He’s like.”

A moment. "That verse about... workin' in mysterious ways."

Another sip of coffee. Listening.

Max doesn't continue.

The pastor sets his coffee down gently on the side table and stands and shuffles back to the coffee pot and rummages a moment and comes back with a plastic sleeve of Oreo cookies.

He peels open the plastic and hooks out three Oreos and sets the sleeve on the table between them and bites into the first one and chews in a mulling-over sort of way.

Max glances at it and then down at his hands again. His voice is very quiet. "Don't know what to think. Bible says He's holy, yeah? An' I know I'm not. So that... really only leaves the option’a  believing. An' tryin' t’ do what He says."

“Does this hypothetical fellow think the only way he can come is if he cleans his act up first? And he doesn’t want to do it? So that means he can’t come?”

A faint furrow between red brows. "Come... to church?"

“Come to Christ.”

"...heard that Christ comes first an' cleaning the act up comes after."

“So if I’m understanding right, the… hypothetical… guy is mad at God because of what happened when he was a kid, desperate enough to steal to feed his family, and he doesn’t want  to come because God is sitting in some sort of pious disapproval of the theft. Am I trackin’?”

One hand lifts as though Max is going to bite his thumb again, then drops. "Not precisely. Mad as a kid. Grew up into... acceptance I guess. Came to believe." A slow breath. "Asked... did the..." A vague gesture. "The whole... getting saved thing."

“Came to believe what, in particular?”

"That He's holy. We're all sinners an' need His blood to be saved from damnation."

“Any thoughts about what He might get up to once He does the savin’?”

"Then there's a buncha rules to follow. An' if ya do y'll be blessed. Or somethin'."

A thoughtful hum. The pastor eats another oreo. “You got kids, Max?”

"Yeah," Max responds immediately, and amends, "adopted."

“That counts. We have a coupla those, too. Boys or girls?”

A faint smile. "One boy. Allan. He's married with kids of his own now," he adds proudly.

“Good man,” the pastor chuckles. “That’s what we’re after. Tell me this. When he was little and he didn’t mind you, did you whip’im?”

Max shifts his jaw ruefully. "Didn't get him until he was eleven, and he always minded. Sweetest kid ever. I beat the he- the tarnation outta my brothers though. Growin' up. Wa'n't anyone else t' do it."

Another chuckle. “Someone’s got to. Was that one of ‘em I saw this morning? Light-haired?”

"Yep." Max's eyes drift a little in thought. "His wife'n daughter wanted t' come."

“More’n him? Brothers?”

"Five more. I'm th' eldest an' he's the third."

A long low eloquent whistle. “Seb’in boys. And you had to be daddy.”

Max shrugs.

“So… hypothetically… is the one of these fellas with the repentin’ hangup about the stealin’ the oldest one? Or a younger one.”

Max looks down at his hands again. "...th' oldest."

A low thoughtful rumble.

"There were plenny o' hungry days anyway," Max says softly, studying his hands. "The twins wouldn't'a made it if... nobody helped, we tried that first..."

“How old were you.”

"Eight."

The pastor studies his third Oreo for a while. Max steals a glance at him before dropping his eyes back to his hands.

“Do you steal to feed ‘em now?”

"No. Don't need to anymore. Big enough ta work, now," Max says bluntly. "An' they're all grown too. He- heck, Riser's got kids of his own."

The pastor nods and twists the Oreo open and sticks it back together and says to his hands, “Are you familiar with the phrase, ‘Striking a straight blow with a crooked stick’?”

Max looks up at him cautiously. "No."

“There’s a good little handful of times in Scripture where God makes sure we know He used the sinful actions of sinful men to accomplish His good purposes. The death of Christ the most striking one. Paul says that if the rulers of the age had known what God intended to do with their murderous plans—save the whole world—they would not have crucified the Lord of Glory.” He opens the Oreo again and sticks it back together. “But there are other less cosmic examples of the same… principle.”

Max eyes him skeptically.

“God says that taking what your neighbor has worked to produce without paying him for it is defrauding your neighbor. God also says that a man who doesn’t provide for his household is worse than a pagan.” The pastor raises his eyes to meet Max’s. “Taking what didn’t belong to you was a sin against some other man who was also trying to provide for his household. Feeding your family was not. It is possible to agree with God on the former, and praise Him that in His kindness He used it to accomplish the latter. These two things need not be in opposition to one another.”

Max drops his head into his hands, scrubbing at his face. "I don't understand."

“Son, how do you think the Lord thinks about all the rest of your sin? Right now. Your anger and your pride and the grudges you’ve carried and the women you’ve looked on, wanting to have what wasn’t yours. All of which I only know because I’m also a man, guilty of all of it, and far worse.” He tips his head, regarding Max steadily. “You say you have believed on the Lord Jesus. If this is true, then the state of all your sin must now be understood a certain way. All of it. How do you think we ought to understand it?”

Max looks up at him, puzzled. "It's filth."

“And has the Lord done anything to address the fact that it makes us filthy?”

Max gives him a look like he's not sure if the pastor is stupid or thinks he is. "That's why Jesus came."

“Good. Yes. Keep going.”

"...an' we have to believe on Him."

“Good. Max, I’m not trying to be condescending here, I’m trying to get an idea of how much you have… apprehended in your understanding of what might be happening to you, okay?”

Max eyes him. "...okay."

“Havin’ to take care of a bunch of little kids, being a father when you were still a kid yourself—that happened because someone somewhere sinned grievously against you. Whether it was your mother or your father or someone else, doesn’t matter. We don’t have to peg it down. You should never have had to be in such a strait. You know that?”

"Yes," Max says bluntly.

“There’s a passage in the Book of Romans where Paul declares there is now therefore no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, have you run across that one?”

"No. Haven't gotten there yet."

“What this doesn’t mean is that sin is no longer sinful. That we somehow wave it away. There is no condemnation because the rightful condemnation for it has been laid on Christ’s shoulders instead of ours. Yes?”

"If we repent," Max insists. "It's not a blanket cover-all for those who don't want it. Gotta be accepted."

“Legally it’s true before you repent. When you got saved, did every sin you’ve ever committed or ever will come crashing down on you? One and done? Or has it been a slow revealing. Small bit at a time. A little more as you go along.”

Max's mouth tightens. "Feels like both," he grumbles.

The pastor laughs lowly. “Feels like both,” he agrees. “But one and done or bit at a time, the point remains. Repentance doesn’t mean the practice of self-flagellation. Those blows have already landed, and they didn’t land on you. Repentance means you lay it down. You set it aside, because God has done this first.” He shifts in his chair, his eyes on Max’s face. “What this also means is that we don’t actually have to bring ourselves to some sort of emotional resolution about it. If there is no condemnation, you don’t have to try and conjure up feelings of guilt for some sin in the distant past. If you’re stealing no longer, you’re already conformed to God’s will for you in this.”

Max goes silent, pondering this.

“Now, if you came to me and said, ‘Brother Tim, I’m still stealing to feed my family and I ain’t sorry a lick about it’, this conversation would probably need to be a little different in the tone.”

"No. Stopped that years ago," he says quietly.

The pastor nods slowly. “Now, when Zaccheus came to the Lord, he went and made fourfold restoration to those he had defrauded.”

"I don't even remember. Don't know that I could find them," Max says slowly.

“Well, the Lord isn’t an ignoramus about logistical impossibilities. Sometimes things come down to… would you if you could. If the opportunity came. What is the bent of your heart toward the idea.”

"If I could? Yeah."

“So when you say you can’t or won’t repent for stealing to feed your family—hypothetically of course…”

"Can't be sorry for feeding them by whatever means necessary. Hypothetically."

“You got to the parts yet when the prostitute women come to the Lord?”

"At the well?"

“That’s one of ‘em. Coupla others as you go.”

"An' He tells them to go an' sin no more."

“Yup. And there’s a better chance than none that those kinds of girls were a bit like you. Doin’ what they had to to keep someone alive. Mebbe themselves. Mebbe a kid sister somewhere, or a baby, or a parent. What He doesn’t say to them is first you gotta think about what got you here until you feel the right amount of guilt about it.” He bites the Oreo, finally, and says before he’s quite done chewing, “You know the stealing was wrong or you wouldn’t be fightin’ your head about it. You’ve already gone and stopped.”

Max lowers his face back into his hands and scrubs again and goes still and says muffledly, "Okay. I think I got it. Thank you."

“Repenting for the theft is not the same as repenting for the provision, Max. Just because they’re tangled up together doesn’t mean the Lord can’t parse them. You and I can, sitting here, a coupla ol’ Southern boys who probably didn’t finish school ‘tween the pair of us. If we can, He surely can better’n us.”

Max's hands tighten on his face, fingers tensing, but he doesn't answer that.

“Max. Son. Anyone ever told you that you did a good job? A man’s job? Anyone ever told you that?”

He doesn't emerge from his hands. "Couple times. M' uncle, for one, when he... found out what was goin' on."

“He was right. You kept those boys alive. They all still around? You still talk to ‘em?”

"All but two of us are up here visitin' Riser an' his family. Ken's got a shop an' a son back home, an' Cary stayed t' keep an eye on Mom's house."

“Y’all take care of your mama?"

"Yes," he says instantly. "She's here too – I'm sure you've seen her. Hair like mine."

“Met her briefly last Sunday, yessir.”

Max nods decisively. "We take care'f 'er."

“Good man.”

"We all love her. She did her best for us an' never stopped tryin'. Didn't drink or do drugs or anythin', just took on more work and made more time for us."

“Good woman, too.”

"She is," Max says simply.

“What about your brother, you said he has kids? More’n just the one he brought?”

"Little ones, yeah. Don't sit still. Another brother watched 'em while their parents were here."

“Well, tell ‘im they’re welcome too, I’m too old and tired to let a few squirmers bother me.”

Max grins at that. "I'll let 'em know. Maybe not right off though." The smile fades, replaced by sadness. "Say boo too loud and they'll both be gone before ya know it. Mom'n I're tryin' ta draw 'em in slow."

“Your brother’s not where you’re at yet, I take it.”

"Not even remotely." His hands drop back to hang between his knees again. "He barely made it through this morning."

That low, deep chuckle again. “Anything in particular that chapped him?”

"That would be f'r him ta say, not me."

A low laugh, a nod, and, “Well, I hope he’ll come and tell me eventually.”

"I hope so." Max stirs and sits up straight. "Thank you. You've helped."

“Don’t know about that. Nosed up in your business and told you you’re a sinner.”

A rueful half-grin. "Knew that much already," he says plainly. "You helped. Thank you." He stands, extending his hand.

The pastor stands with him and shakes it firmly. “You need to hash on anything else, you let me know. There’s a place up the road makes a half-decent barbecue, I’d buy you a sandwich next time.”

Max nods firmly, smiling a little. "I'll keep it in mind. Thank you, sir." He lets himself out.

[driverlando]

✧.* #BABYVERSTAPPEN

synopsis: Max accidentally leaks the news of your pregnancy during an interview and he breaks the internet

before you continue- I loveee this # series so much!! if you enjoy then pls reblog and follow :)

✧.* the interview

—

—

✧.* Y/N’s reaction

You hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. Glancing up from your phone, you see Max walk in with a cautious smile, holding a tub of your favourite ice cream like a peace offering. The house feels unusually quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy you’re used to when Max comes home.

“Hey, love,” Max says, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension in the air. “I brought your favourite ice cream.”

You look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, so now you’re trying to bribe me with ice cream?”

Max winces at your tone, setting the ice cream down on the coffee table. “I thought it might help smooth things over.”

You sigh, putting your phone aside. “Max, do you have any idea how many messages I’ve gotten today? Everyone knows now. Everyone.”

“I know, and I’m really sorry,” Max replies earnestly, stepping closer to you. “It just slipped out. I was excited, and I didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem, Max. You didn’t think,” you cut in, crossing your arms and stepping back from him. “This was supposed to be our special moment. Our announcement.”

Max reaches out for your hand, his expression pleading. You pull away, your disappointment palpable.

“You’re in the dog house tonight, Verstappen.”

“Come on, Y/N, don’t be like that,” Max urges, his eyes reflecting genuine regret. “I know I messed up, but I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t help talking about how happy I am.”

Your resolve wavers for a moment, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s not just about the announcement, Max. It’s about our privacy, our moment. You know how much this meant to me.”

“I do,” Max murmurs softly. “And I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

You shake your head, though your expression softens just a bit. “You better. But tonight, you’re sleeping on the sofa.”

Max nods solemnly, accepting his fate. “Alright, the sofa it is. But can we at least share the ice cream?”

You hesitate, then roll your eyes in resignation. “Fine. But just the ice cream. You’re still in trouble.”

Max smiles gratefully, relieved that you’re willing to share even this small moment with him. He retrieves two spoons from the kitchen and settles on the sofa beside you, careful to maintain a respectful distance, the mood swings were strong today. You sit together in silence, eating the ice cream slowly, each lost in your own thoughts.

As you near the bottom of the tub, Max suddenly has an idea. “Hey, Y/N?”

You look at him, a spoonful of ice cream paused halfway to your mouth. “What?”

“I know I ruined our announcement, and I feel terrible about it,” Max begins earnestly. “But how about this—you can be the one to announce the sex of the baby. However you want, whenever you want. It’s your moment.”

Your gaze softens as you consider his suggestion. “I like that idea. But you’re still sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

Max chuckles softly. “Fair enough. But at least we’re getting somewhere, right?”

You lean in and kiss his cheek gently. “Yeah, we are. Thanks, Max. This means a lot to me.”

—

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, landonorris and 1,357,147 others

yourusername guess the secrets out! (thanks max) baby verstappen we can’t wait to meet you 💘

tagged: @/maxverstappen1

view all 23,527 comments

yourbestfriend congrats!! so happy for the two of you ❤️

↳ yourbestfriend can’t wait to spoil her

↳ yourusername thank you darling! 💘

user1 hey, atleast max let you announce the sex 😂

user2 congratulations!! you’re going to be the best parents 🥳

maxverstappen1 so excited ❤️

user3 is max in the dog house? 😂

↳ yourusername yep.

—

—

✧.* the boys reactions

— Formula One Star Max Verstappen Accidentally Reveals Wife Y/N Y/L/N’s Pregnancy During Interview

By: Sasha, Rumour Radar

In a hilariously unexpected turn of events, Formula One champion Max Verstappen has found himself at the centre of a viral moment after inadvertently revealing his wife Y/N Y/L/N’s pregnancy during a live interview. The impromptu announcement has taken the motorsport and influencer communities by storm, and Y/N later added her own delightful twist to the news.

The Accidental Reveal

The incident unfolded during a press conference following Verstappen’s practice session. When asked about his expectations and what he was looking forward to in the new season, Verstappen, with his characteristic charm and ease, responded, “And for the baby to come too, the next season’s going to be busy.” The interviewer, catching the slip, pressed further, “Did you say baby?”

Max, realising his gaffe, was momentarily speechless. His face turned a shade of crimson as he stammered, “Uh, I mean…uh, no? Y/N is going to kill me.” This candid and unscripted moment sent ripples of excitement through the audience and quickly became the talk of the paddock.

Social Media Explosion

As soon as the clip aired, social media ignited. Fans, fellow racers, and celebrities alike flooded platforms like Twitter and Instagram with reactions, congratulations, and plenty of memes. The hashtag #VerstappenBaby soared to the top of the trending lists, making it clear that the news had captured everyone’s attention.

Fans and media outlets were abuzz with the news. In a move that was as swift as it was sweet, Y/N took to Instagram to confirm the delightful news. She posted a picture of a cake with pink filling and an ultrasound picture, accompanied by the caption, “Guess the secret’s out! (Thanks Max) Baby Verstappen, we can’t wait to meet you 💘.”

Max’s unintentional reveal and Y/N’s charming confirmation on social media endeared the couple even more to their legion of fans. Verstappen, known for his fierce competitiveness and composed demeanour on the track, showed a softer, more relatable side that resonated with many. His initial reaction, followed by Y/N’s sweet Instagram post, painted a picture of a couple who are navigating the journey to parenthood with humour and grace.

Messages of support

The Verstappen household, already bustling with the excitement of the F1 season, is now set for even more joy with the impending arrival of their baby girl. The couple, who have been private about their journey to parenthood, seemed to embrace the unexpected reveal with good humour. Max later took to social media, joking, “Lesson learnt! Next time, I'll leave the announcements to Y/N.”

As the F1 season progresses, Max Verstappen will have more than just his racing commitments to look forward to. The prospect of becoming a father has added a new dimension to his life, bringing a balance between his high-octane career and his personal life. This blend of professional and personal excitement has further endeared him to fans who now feel even more connected to his journey.

Despite the unplanned nature of the announcement, Max and Y/N have embraced the outpouring of support. A close friend of the couple shared, “Max and Y/N are over the moon about the baby. It wasn’t how they planned to share the news, but they’re thrilled with the love and support they’ve received and now laugh over the accidental reveal.”

Max’s teammates and rivals have also expressed their congratulations. Lewis Hamilton, Verstappen’s long-time competitor, commented on Y/N’s post, “Huge congrats to both of you! You’ll be the best parents!” Daniel Ricciardo, known for his playful camaraderie with Verstappen, added, “Can’t wait to meet Baby Verstappen! She’s going to be a little racer for sure.”

The new season

The unplanned revelation has certainly added a fresh layer of excitement to the season. Media outlets have been buzzing with speculation about how the impending fatherhood will impact Verstappen’s performance on the track. Analysts suggest that the new family milestone might provide him with an extra boost of motivation and focus.

For now, the spotlight remains on the happy news of Baby Verstappen. The couple’s playful and endearing approach to this new chapter in their lives has won them even more admiration and affection from their fans. As the countdown to their baby girl’s arrival begins, Max and Y/N are set to experience a whirlwind of emotions, balancing the thrills of Formula 1 with the joys of parenthood.

In the grandstands, on social media, and in the hearts of their supporters, Max and Y/N Verstappen are celebrated not just as a racing power couple but also as soon-to-be parents. The racing world waits with bated breath for more updates, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the newest member of the Verstappen family.

Stay tuned to Rumour Radar for the latest updates on this unfolding story and more celebrity gossip.

—

[itaipava]

— f1 boys giving you the partner privilege.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS:

he hates to be interrupted while playing, but you are always an exception; when you arrive in the room he always looks quickly at you and takes a headset out of his ear, attentive to anything you are going to say. if you are sad or discouraged. he lets you sit on his lap and he listens intently to everything you have to say. but if you want, he’ll even turn off the computer/video game because he really cares about you - but he’s a little upset that you made him left the game when he was about to win, but he put this aside and focus on you; because what matters most is you, and always you.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO:

shows you off in every way possible - honestly, most of the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. he’s always looks in love with you like ‘wow, you’re so perfect for me’. he also gets his eyes in his heart looking at you but still doesn’t understand how people guessed you were dating… but he honestly doesn’t complain, it just makes him show you even more to others because he wants to show everyone that he has the world in his hands.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ:

he would give you anything you want; are you looking for a certain food or drink? he’s already getting it for you without question. it’s movie night and you want to watch a movie that no one else wants to watch? one way or another he’s going to make sure you’re watching that movie. he just wants to see you happy - and also because he likes to pamper you. the second you arrive, his friends are rolling their eyes because they know how much he’s wrapped around your finger, just a fool in love.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC:

he gives you all his love and affection; it’s like he freely gives his heart to you, when it comes to you, he’d give you the entire galaxy if he could. he would let you do anything; playing with his hair, stealing his clothes, eating his last piece of pizza. he is also more affectionate physically like; he gives you long and warm hugs, soft and long kisses until you lose your breath, plays with your hair while he look through his phone, pulls you into his lap… he loves you with all his heart, and only you.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON:

he brings small gifts constantly. he can’t stop thinking about you and in everything he sees he sees you; whether it’s a coffee at that coffee shop at the end of the street that he knows you like, or that flower he saw in a tree on his way home. every little gift has meaning and a little bit of his heart. he just walks into the room with the sweetest smile to say ‘i have something for you, love’

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

you are the only person who sees his true side; the fun, spontaneous and loving side of him. you’re one of the few people who’s ever heard his spontaneous laugh or his bad jokes. or made him slow dance in the kitchen with you. you are the only person he allows himself to be, you are always the one for him.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN:

he wants your presence all the time; it’s not that he’s suffocating you, it’s just that he wants to be surrounded by you all the time. like he could literally spend 48 hours locked in a room with you and still feel like he needs more time - like no you can’t leave, we’re not done yet. no matter how much time you spend with him, it will never be enough for him and he will never get tired of your delightful presence; he truly cherishes you and wants nothing more than to give you all of the love he can for as long as possible. your existence alone to him is so mesmerizing, he really doesn’t understand how you’re his or what he did to deserve you.

[maxlarens]

lando and 3💗💗

3) hiding face in neck

There’s a grin splitting its way across your face as you hustle through corridors and fight crowds across the paddock. You thought you’d be able to get away with watching the race in one of the fancy Miami VIP areas. You’d thought he’d do good but not this good— you shouldn’t have underestimated him.

P1. P1.

You should have started hustling to McLaren earlier in the race honestly, when he was leading and you had a sick feeling in your gut from the anticipation.

Whatever.

You’re sprinting like your life depends on it, flashing your lanyard and flagging down McLaren staff who recognise you so you can be let into areas that Lando or someone equally as important usually takes you through.

You’re waylaid just before you can hit the tarmac. Stopped by an obstinate security guard who you can’t really blame for just doing his job. You can see flashes of orange, bits of the car as you stand on your tiptoes to catch someone anyone’s eye.

“You have to let me through,” you say, “I am literally his best friend. He just won.” Then you’re seeing a Red Bull cap and you’re shouting, “MAX! Oi, Max!”

Max frowns, head turning in each direction until he finally spots you and the security guard who’s trying to hold you off. He rolls his eyes, then jogs over.

“You can let her through, mate,” he says, an exasperated edge to his tone that you will deal with later thank you very much, “She’s with Lando.”

You’re not with Lando, you want to bite back. Okay, technically in Max’s sense of the word you are.

Whatever.

The moment the security guard moves his arm you’re off like a shot, sparing only a second to pat Max’s arm in thanks. You take off onto the tarmac, out into the Miami sun. There’s the MCL38, there’s a sea of papaya behind a barricade, there’s Zak Brown and there’s Lando.

You thud into his side, almost knocking him into Zak as you throw your arms around his neck. Responding on instinct he catches you, one arm winding around your waist. You’re babbling as soon as you’ve got him in your grip— I’m so proud of you’s and I knew you could do it’s bubbling from your mouth as you try to stop from crying.

He’s laughing— giggling that shrill, joyful thing he does— as he twists around in your arms. He puts both arms around your waist, squeezes and lifts. And you don’t even care that he’s sweaty and smells bad, because he’s shoving his wet (from sweat, from tears) face into your neck and he’s hugging you like he doesn’t want to let go.

[pucksandpower]

Worlds Apart

Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader

Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you

Warnings: Jos Verstappen

Based on a request by @butterflyexe

The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.

“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”

You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.

You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”

“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”

“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”

“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”

The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”

“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”

“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.

Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”

Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”

The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”

“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”

A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.

Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”

Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”

“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.

Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”

“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”

You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”

His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”

You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”

He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”

“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”

A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”

“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”

Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”

You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”

“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”

You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.

“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”

“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”

“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.

It’s going to be okay.

He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.

Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.

Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.

***

Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.

“Max! A word, if you please.”

He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”

Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”

“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”

Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.

“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”

“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”

Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”

It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.

“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”

Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”

Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”

He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”

Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.

“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.

Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.

You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.

The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️

He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?

After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.

After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.

“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”

Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”

So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.

“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”

Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”

“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”

Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.

“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”

“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”

“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”

As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.

When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”

“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”

Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”

“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”

“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”

You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”

He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”

“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”

“Sweet dreams, liefje.”

Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.

Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.

So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.

As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.

Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.

***

You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.

For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.

Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.

Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.

Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.

That’s no ordinary car.

That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.

Just like-

“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...

“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.

His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.

He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.

“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.

Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.

“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”

“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.

“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.

A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.

“Who is that guy?”

“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”

“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”

The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.

“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”

Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.

“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”

He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.

“You’re impossible!”

“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.

This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.

But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.

Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.

“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”

There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.

“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.

“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.

“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”

“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.

“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”

You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.

“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”

You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.

“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.

“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”

There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.

But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.

“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”

Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.

“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”

A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.

“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.

Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.

“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”

And neither of you can wait.

[snapscube]

I FINISHED TURNABOUT BIG TOP! Which means here is my updated autopsy report ranking for cases and characters!

Both have actually shifted around quite a bit so you may find it an interesting update. I'll explain some of my current thoughts on the new placements as well as my thoughts on 2-3 in general below a break if ur curious.

Okay so first thing let's just address the elephant in the room: We have an all new category on the character ranking!! One that I sure wish I didn't have to include but unfortunately Big Top made some... very Interesting decisions with specific characters. It would be one thing if this content was featured and then addressed, but it was particularly off-putting and frustrating to me that everything was played entirely straight?? So yeah. New lowest of the low category for a couple freaks who are actively courting a 16 year old!!!! yayyyyyy

OTHERWISE, I do have to say.... I was really pleasantly surprised at 2-3 as a case. I can say now I completely understand people having a distaste for it especially in regards to the unsavory age gaps, but literally..... almost everything else in this case was well put together and generally on-par with the quality of the rest of the series? As an overall package I actually still find Turnabout Samurai infinitely more dull. Like, maybe it's just because the lead-up to actually playing it was so uniquely frustrating for me and forcibly lowered my expectations by a ton, but there was so much good shit in Big Top. Maya, in particular, is in top form during this case. She is so fucking funny. I loved almost every word that came out of her mouth and it really solidified her top spot in the character ranking for me at present. But past that, I think the second half of this case is EXTREMELY strong compared to its opening half. I'll admit during the first trial section I was getting kinda tired with it and finding it hard to care given how much I just do not root for Max, so I had tentatively placed it at bottom of C tier. But then once von Karma arrives in the investigation section and then Acro's storyline enters the equation I really think it finds its footing. I actually found the last few scenes of the trial very emotionally effective, especially Acro's breakdown at the witness stand and mentioning how he couldn't follow through with taking his own life to escape his crime due to his desire to see his brother wake up. Like... I legitimately teared up.

And FURTHERMORE.... von Karma. Oh my god. I don't know if I'm picking up on anything here, nor do I want to know until I maybe see it for myself, but something about her conduct in the final trial really spoke to me. I feel like a surface read makes it apparent that she's just as frustrated as she is because she's losing the case to Wright again, and I do think that's a huge factor still to her reaction... but I don't know, I felt something else with her. Particularly when it came to her reaction towards Acro's attempted murder of Regina. I felt like she came across as PARTICULARLY disgusted towards that revelation and towards her own client in a way that subtly humanized her and had me just CHUCKLING AND CHORTLING in evil anticipation towards potential character arcs. I really hope I've grasped onto something here because... I love her so much. I love the idea that in spite of her reputation we're still gonna get to see this spark of humanity light up. AHHHHH.

Okay. Anyway. In summary:

I understand why people have a distaste for Big Top now, but it does not change the fact that I desperately wish I had been given the chance to experience the story myself going into it without that baggage. It genuinely did not help my experience in the slightest to just have that cloud of expectation over it and it is generally irritating that I couldn't even bring up that I was playing it without people jokingly apologizing to me or telling me that I wouldn't be able to handle it or whatever. Really not a great vibe.

As a case, it has a couple MAJOR, GLARING points of discomfort but I'm still really glad I gave it a chance and was able to find a lot of good in it anyway. It inspired me to unfortunately lower some of my other rankings because this is what I kind of consider a more middle-of-the-road quality for the series now. Solid B tier. I have played much worse.

Maya Fey is a god damn treasure.

As for some of the other character shifts, particularly in relation to some of the characters who got bumped from S to A rank, that's less because I decided I like them less now than I did when I first ranked them and more that I decided my initial interpretation of my feelings was incongruent in some cases. Like, for example I LOVE Mia I really do she's great, but in no way at this current time is she on the same level as Maya or Lana for me. So I just needed to adjust the ratios a bit.

Anyway, I'll be back eventually with posts about the next case and the last one of AA2! :3 I hear it's pretttyyy long but pretttyyy damn GOOD. Can't wait.

[cutielando]

driving around | l.n.

synopsis: in which you're too stubborn for your own good

a/n: thank you so much @rayaharper for requesting this !!❤️

my masterlist

“You’re not driving”

“Why not??” 

“You’re sick, I’m not risking putting you behind the wheel just because you’re stubborn”

You had been bickering like this for nearly 10 minutes now, neither of you wanting to compromise for the other. 

It’s not like you were that sick, you were coughing a bit, with a runny nose, sore muscles and a little temperature. You were basically fine and good to go.

But Lando didn’t agree on that.

He blamed what he called the “Verstappen stubborn gene.” He always made fun of you and your brother, Max, for sharing that stubborn trait that he hated so much.

It was also because he was a stubborn person as well, which meant that you would oftentimes clash regarding pretty much everything.

Just like you were doing now.

You were insisting to drive you and Lando to the track so he could get some more rest and the boy was having none of it.

“Just because I’m a little sick doesn’t mean I’m incapable of driving, Lando” you complained, rolling your eyes which hurt right in your sinuses.

That should have been the first sign to stop you from being so adamant to drive, but you weren’t about to give up so easily.

“Little sick? You’ve been burning up for 2 days and can barely get any sleep without waking up in cold sweat. You hardly eat anything and your sinuses are clogged” he reasoned, making you look at him.

He was right. Everything he was saying was the truth.

But it still didn’t sway you.

“It’s just a cold, I can manage just fine” you said before opening the door and getting into the driver’s seat.

Lando sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hates how stubborn you were at times, and he knew that his attempts to get you to let him drive would be in vain.

With that being said, he just sighed once again and got into the passenger seat.

“Just so we’re clear, I don’t condone this and I’m really not okay with you driving in this state” he said once he buckled up, tracking your every movement with his eyes.

“Babe, I’ll be fine. It’s just a short ride, it’s not like I’ll be driving for hours” you attempted to soothe him, but it clearly wasn’t working.

He only hummed and looked back at the road, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

As you started the relatively short drive from your hotel and towards the track, you could slowly feel your eyes burning, the soreness in your muscles escalating with each minute and your headache coming in strong.

It was in those moments that you knew he had been right and you shouldn’t have insisted on driving. You could feel nausea coming quickly onto your body, making you swallow harshly in order to tame it for now.

You had barely made it to the track safely, Lando already knowing that you would be way too tired to even watch the race after this.

“I told you so” he said, standing beside you as you weakly managed to get out of the car.

You glared at him, the movement hurting your sinuses even more. 

“I just wanted you to get some more rest before we got here” you said, pouting at him with glossy eyes.

He sighed when he looked at you, bringing you into his arms right away. He kissed your forehead, frowning once he felt how hot you were and saw how sick you actually looked.

“I know you did, but baby, you’re sick. I don’t want to rest when you’re feeling like this, I want to take care of you. And I can’t do that when you argue with me and put me on the spot for wanting to help you” he said, gently trying to make you see that he only wanted what was best for you.

Deep down, you knew you had been wrong, and right now in Lando’s arms, you realized just how much you had needed his warmth and his hug.

“I’m sorry for being stubborn” your voice was small, but he still heard you.

“Come on, let’s get you to hospitality and find some medicine and a quiet place to rest for you” he let go of you and opened the door to take your bags, taking your hand and leading you to the McLaren hospitality.

He manages to avoid the paparazzi on the way to the motorhome, keeping you close to his body.

Once you got to the motorhome, Jon was waiting for Lando there, his eyebrows instantly furrowing once he saw the state you were in.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jon asked Lando once he sat you down at a table and wrapped his jacket around your body.

Lando sighed, looking back at how you were practically sleeping on the chair before he turned around to talk to his trainer.

“She’s been sick for the past few days and today she insisted on driving us to the track even when I told her she’s too sick to drive. We just barely got here okay because she got worse on the road” he explained, his voice hushed as he kept stealing glances at his passed out girlfriend.

“Have you talked to her doctor or something?” Jon asked worriedly, caring for you just as much as Lando ever since the two of you were introduced.

Lando nodded. “I did, she said we should just wait for it to pass, that she should get plenty of rest and shouldn’t do much, but you know how she is” he explained further.

“You have one stubborn girlfriend, mate” Jon joked, bumping his shoulder in order to help the driver relax.

Lando chuckled, nodding knowingly. 

Just as he was about to say something else, you whined as you started to wake up, trying to wrap the jacket even tighter around your body.

“Lan?” your voice was small, your eyes slowly blinking open.

“I’m here, baby. Come on, let’s get you to a room where you can rest up. Jon will look after you” he said while picking you up bridal style.

The three of you made your way upstairs to a free room, Lando immediately bundled you up in your blankets that he brought for you and helped you take your medicine.

Even in your current state, somewhere between reality and sleep, you realized just how much you needed to rest and how truly sick you were.

“Thank you for taking care of me and sorry for insisting on driving today” you said when he finished fussing over you and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

Lando shook his head, brushing a strand of your hair from your eyes.

“Don’t apologize, just get some rest and I’ll see you after practice, okay?” you nodded, settling into the tiny bed and allowing yourself to succumb to your sleep.

Lando left you in the room partly against his will, but with the reassurance that Jon would take care of you while he was in the car.

And, at the end of the day, he was always going to take care of you, no matter what.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[verstappen-cult]

okay but why do I feel like this is just 100% max? 😭 like he’s so grrrr to everyone else but when y/n is around he’s an actual golden retriever puppy even if he tries to hide it

AAA I LOVE YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS! i was actually thinking about this last night, because it has max’s name written all over it and i can picture it like—

Max is known to be a very blunt person, someone who can get frustrated pretty easily, everyone knows that. I mean, he has a reputation. But once you came into his life, a new version of Max appeared. 

He just can’t say no to you. You literally are his weakness, with your big, round eyes and pretty smile always making him feel butterflies in his belly, like a teenager with sweaty hands and an embarrassing crush. Max has even found himself stuttering more than one time. 

When you’re not around, he’s like a lost puppy. But when you are, and you look at him, is like the sky opens up making everything be just right. It’s so fucking corny and he would never, in a million years, admit something like that out loud. 

Just like right now. 

Max is angry and frustrated, deep in an argument with GP — gesturing with his hands as if his life depends on it — when you approach him. 

“Hey,” You say, unaware of what’s happening between them. 

“Hey, baby.” Max turns around, a smile plastered on his pretty face. 

GP sees Max’s face light up at seeing you. 

He turns into a completely different person from one second to the other. It’s laughable, really. 

“You know who I just saw?!” You’re almost hopping on one leg of how happy you are. He smiles, because he loves to see you happy. “Taylor Swift! Max, the Taylor Swift is here, she’s actually in Ferrari’s hospitality.”

“Did you talk to her?” Max asks you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him because why are you so far away? He needs to be touching you at all times. 

“Well, no. I wanted to but I don’t want to make a fool of myself, so, I need you to come with me.” You say, very serious. 

“Baby, I won’t go to Ferrari's hospitality. They will probably think I’m trying to steal something.” Max laughs, looking at GP very briefly only to see him holding his laughter as much as he can. 

“But, Max!” You pout, already putting your signature ‘look at this face, you can’t say no to this face’ face.

“Max, we need to finish with these papers.” His friend reminds him, but Max couldn’t care less at this moment.

“Yeah, well, just give me a couple of minutes. I’ll find you later.”

Max really, really needs to finish his talk with GP, it’s important because tomorrow’s the race and there are so many things wrong with the car, but he lets you drag him away. GP’s laugh can be heard around the paddock, people actually turn around to see what’s happening. Max just gives him the finger and follows you to Ferrari’s hospitality to meet Taylor Swift, shooting death glares at anyone who dares to look at him.

[on-leatheredwings]

Dirty Laundry (18+)

Yandere! Dick Grayson x (Fem) Reader

> romantic, 18+ > Request: I think Dick would be a major creep and your rules didn't say anything about no nsft, so can I ask for a fic with this scenario: Dick stealing reader's underwear and using the dirty ones to get off while cumming into the clean ones. And putting the "clean" ones back into her dresser hoping she doesn't notice the stains and wears them? Thanks! > a/n: …………………………………… Ohhhh, so you’re crazy. Meaning, you’re just like me . thanks for the dick request i want to write him better/more ;u; had fun writing this! > tw: someone cumming in your panties without your consent or knowledge, so sexual assault. As well as yandere-typical thoughts and behaviors. > Word count: 1847 (Ugh this was supposed to be like 3 paragraphs max but i’m me.)

Dick’s your best friend. 

… You guess.

He was new to Blüdhaven, and you two just seemed to keep bumping into each other in the rare times you left your apartment. Might as well get to know the guy. You didn’t have much choice in the matter, once he attached to you. And that was okay, because you liked him back and, frankly, were in quite desperate need for friends. The man currently lounges on your bed, sifting through a magazine while you’re mixing audio for this indie rock cover band that’s commissioned you. That’s your side hustle and passion, when you’re not being a work-from-home researcher for S.T.A.R. Labs. 

You’re an hour into your work and Dick Grayson is lounging on his spot on your bed, because he has claimed a spot at this point. All is well with the world. Then, your stomach lets out a groan, and so do you.

A pair of eyes, all ocean blue and twinkling, slide over to you without a second’s hesitation. You meet them, unblinking and unperturbed. Does he know he’s kind of a freak? Being all light-eyed and adoring?

You stand up without fanfare, removing your headphones from your ears and letting them sit around the column of your neck.

“I’m going to get food from the place next door.”

You yawn and walk away from your desk. That usually was much harder for you, but Grayson’s presence in your life had made it more of a priority for you to care for yourself. “Don’t touch anything,” you say, plainly and without venom. Without another word, you’re gone, and Dick launches up from his seat once he hears the front door to your flat close.

He told himself he was going to do this today. He told himself, and he is a man of his word.

He opens the bottom drawer of your dresser, where he knows you keep your clean pairs of underwear. Then he trespasses into your closet, where he knows you keep your laundry basket.

Dick knows where a lot of things are in your apartment, and he has made it his job to know every inch of your bedroom specifically. When you leave the room, like times like this, he enjoys going around and familiarizing himself with everything. And he’s planted cameras, of course. He does leave your en-suite restroom alone, an act he pats himself on the back for. You deserved your privacy, after all. To his disappointment, you do tend to masturbate exclusively in the shower, and he must tide himself over with the audio his cameras pick up, rather than visuals.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dick buries his hands into your laundry basket. These were the things… you wore. His eyes twinkle as he smiles. Still, he had no time to waste. While often busy, the Chinese place you were at was also known for its fast service. Dick grabs the first pair of panties he sees: blue lace-trim, white in color, with blue gingham. You’re so cute. 

He sits in your closet, back to your hamper, slides off the jeans that look really good on him which he hopes you’ve noticed. All of these actions are done a little clumsier than normal because his pulse roars in his ears.

He lets his head fall backward, and he begins pumping his cock with your panties in that same hand. He thinks of your face, your body, your hands. He really likes your hands, so adept and amble, always flying across a keyboard or strumming a guitar. He thinks about the honest things you say, truthful but usually with tact. He thinks about your eyes crinkling when he’s being a show-off, and your pretty lips that you’re usually wetting with your tongue rather than finally just getting lip balm. 

At this point, Dick is a wreck, eyes glazed over and only half-open. His eyelashes flutter as he struggles to keep them open. He goes slack-jawed, pink lips only a little swollen from his biting down on them. He’s about to finish, he knows he is. It’s building in him like the birth of a tidal wave. Pre-cum and his sweat have soiled your gingham pair, and he looks at the very plain pair of navy blue boyshorts in his free hand, clenched into a fist. He finds himself blushing. Your underwear is so… you, and it’s hilarious that holding them in his hand is what is flustering him so much. Considering what he’s doing.

Dick whimpers, a sound that’s both embarrassing and utterly liberating. Pleasure pulses in between his legs, his back shoots into an arch, his balls hike up to the base of his cock. He cums with a raspy cry, right onto the crotch of your boyshorts. He had initially planned to just finish anywhere on the fabric, but at the last second decided to cum where your cunt would touch. He’s kind of romantic like that. (He’s also kind of a pervert, and he knows that.)

He pants in the afterglow of his orgasm, cheeks painted over with rosy pink. He tosses your white pair back into its home, the laundry basket.

His calloused fingers reach up for the corner of his mouth, which had been agape this whole while. 

… Was he drooling? 

Dick robotically proceeds to rub his semen into your underwear until it's just a dark stain. He pulls his dark jeans from the pool of black denim they formed at his ankles, he runs his fingers through his hair at a job well done. He returns your boyshorts to your dresser, neatly folding them like all the rest. And finally, he wipes his mouth. He returns to your bed, and it’s like nothing has happened since you left.

Dick Grayson – Gotham pretty boy, badass superhero – should probably cringe; in any other context, isn’t that so lame…? But considering it was you, honestly, what could he have expected…

You come back into your bedroom, a bag of takeout swinging from your hands. His eyes don’t leave you for an instant.

… You simply have that effect on him. 

You stomp through his room until you’re right in front of him, where he pretends to be scrolling on his phone. Your arms are akimbo as you stare down at him, blocking your room’s overhead light with your skull and casting your shadow over him. He looks up and smiles cheekily.

“Alright, Dickard.” Dick’s lips quirk. “Get out. I’m going to shower and change.” Sniffing yourself on the way back, you decided it was high time you did. 

Dick’s brain goes a mile a minute. Shower. Change. Underwear? His heart skitters but he doesn’t show it. 

“Aw, don’t let me stop you. Feel free,” he teasingly sings.

Your eye twitches and you take it upon yourself to physically move him. Not that you could if he chose to actually resist. You know that he must be strong, stronger than ‘doing acrobatics as a hobby’ must make someone. You’ve caught a peek at his abdomen and biceps now and then. Guy is ripped. 

“Go eat,” you order, throwing the takeout into his hand. “I got enough for the both of us.” Why, Dick could twirl his hair and kick his feet right now – despite a prickly exterior, you really were a sweetheart, weren’t you? He refuses to have you pay for him though. He will definitely be returning the favor thricefold.

You successfully shoo the six feet tall model out of your room. 

Once he’s out, you take your shower, standing for five minutes in the spray until it grows warm. You think with amusement at the idea of movies and TV making women showering such a sexy, erotic scene. Bitch, you are in here scrubbing pots and pans. 

After the job’s done, your feet land on your worn shower mat from college, and pad towards your bedroom once more. You catch a towel on your way there, belatedly remembering that Dick Grayson may still be loitering in your bedroom, and you weren’t too keen on the idea of him seeing your private bits. Warily shifting eyes from behind the door, you see no one’s around.

Knock knock. 

“Are you done?”

Dick’s voice from the hallway makes you panic, fearful that he may burst in before you’re ready and presentable. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a woman while she’s getting ready in her boudoir!“ you yell, hoping some rich person’s instinct suddenly clicks in him. You thought rich men were supposed to be gentlemanly. Really, ever since meeting Dick, who is son to the richest man in the state, you’ve learned rich people all must be whiny, clingy, braggers, show-offs, and sometimes, just plain brats. In your hurry, you swipe a panty from your drawer and slip it on past your thighs. Body still damp from the shower, you don’t notice anything. 

The rest of your clothes follow, and you choose to sit back down in your desk chair. You turn back to your double monitor set up, ready to become a screen zombie once more when you remember someone’s waiting for you.

Without turning around, you holler, “Come in.” 

Without a moment’s pause, Dick reenters, takeout plated for the both of you in each hand. He places one smoothly in front of you with butler-like precision. 

“Your meal, madam,” Dick says in a Parisian accent, and you do smile in amusement. His eyes dilate, but you don’t notice.

“Thank you, my fine sir,” you return, a little embarrassed, accent weak, but willing to keep up the bit.

Dick knows not to disturb you too much while you work, so he wanders away as you slip your headphones over your ears once more. But before returning to His Spot on the bed, he quietly treads to your dresser. He sneaks a glance to make sure you’re still occupied. And you are, that blue wash of light painting your skin. 

He pulls out the drawer, and– hhhhh.

He heaves with breath involuntarily, although it’s nearly imperceptible. You do make him slip more than he likes, but he’s experienced. He glances once more to make sure you didn’t hear that, and of course you didn’t. You’re still fiddling in Ableton Live.

He shuts the drawer and stalks to His Spot on the bed, and anyone who knows Dick Grayson would see that he is tense. He is stiff.

And how could he not be? You’re wearing the underwear he had cum on. Did you notice? Is this your way of coming onto him? No, you’re too forward to play games… Something he finds both refreshing and a shame, because he loves games. You simply mustn't have noticed. Regardless, the knowledge fills him with such ecstasy and arousal… and longing. 

He eyes you discreetly as his skin reddens. He tries to act natural by eating steaming orange chicken, plucking it from his plate with a chopstick. One day, he’ll have you, in body and soul. 

Until then, he can entertain himself with this game, however one-sided.

[f1goat]

roommates ; lando norris + part five

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!

The following day you’re not surprised by the way you’re feeling. After standing in the pouring rain yesterday it doesn’t surprise you that you’re feeling sick. After wearing your soaked dress for way too long, it only seems logical that you’re not feeling that well right now. It does however annoy you. You don’t feel like getting out of your bed. You’d rather stay in your bed for the rest of the day. However, Lando did already sent you multiple texts about grabbing breakfast together somewhere. After yesterday you don’t want to say no to him. So, with a big sigh you get out of your bed. 

When you leave the comfort from your bed, the cold air is quick to hit you. It reminds you that you really don’t know how to dress yourself. Then you notice Lando his sweater laying on your floor. When you were shivering in the car next to him yesterday, he eventually pulled of his own sweater and gave it to you. Without giving it a second thought, you pick it up and put it on. You grab some pants from your closet and continue to get dressed. More effort then this isn’t in it today. You skip doing your make up and start to walk out of your room. 

Lando is quick to give you a confused look when he sees you coming towards him. “Are you okay?” He asks you. In the mean time he can’t look somewhere else then at the sweater you’re wearing. It makes him feel all fuzzy on the inside that you’re wearing his sweater again. 

“Good morning to you too,” you softly chuckle, “I’m feeling okay.”

“You don’t look okay,” Lando quickly replies. 

“I’m okay,” you repeat your earlier words.

“You’re lying,” Lando states.

“Let’s go for breakfast?” You try to change the subject. Lando lets out a soft laugh. You notice how cute his laugh can be. Then he shakes his head at you. “Babygirl,” he softly says, “it’s pretty clear that you’re sick. We’re not going out like this.” 

You wonder how Lando noticed in this short amount of time that you’re not feeling well. He barely saw you and already figured you out. Even Max isn’t this fast with seeing right through you. Lando keeps amazing you lately. Yesterday night was also one of those moments. When you came back at his place after the disaster with your ex, Lando made sure he took care of you for the rest of the evening. Together the two of you watched some movies, while Lando made sure you were feeling comfortable. Eventually you ended up falling asleep on him, only for him to wake you up and bring you to your own bed. He keeps confusing you. 

“But you wanted to get breakfast,” you reply to Lando.

“And now I want you to feel better,” Lando is quick to reply.

“Why?” You ask surprised. Lando confuses you again with his words. It’s not that it’s bad for him that you’re sick, right? Or is he afraid that you will infect him as well? Maybe it’s about that. Then you should get back to your room you guess.

“Because you need to join me to the race this weekend,” Lando states.

“I need to join you?” You ask surprised.

“Yes,” Lando replies. He’s not making things more clear. Why does he want you to join him? You want to ask him that question and a lot of other questions, but Lando is already talking again. “What about pancakes for breakfast?” He asks you. 

You laugh about the way he changes the subject, but you do accept the pancakes. “One condition,” you quickly tell him, “You’ll let me help.”

“No, no,” Lando replies, “I’ll make the pancakes, go sit down babygirl.”

You feel your heart flutter at the nickname. It reminds you about yesterday. Maybe your ex was right. It only feels right when Lando is the one who calls you babygirl. That can’t be good.

“No offense Lan, but you can’t even cut up some onions. It seems a bit more safe for me to help you.”

Lando chuckles and makes room for you to join him at the counter. 

+++

The rest of that day, Lando makes sure you’re close to him. It’s surprisingly sweet how close he keeps you to himself. He hasn’t left you alone once today. You overheard one of his friends calling him and asking to do something, but Lando was quick to say no. It kinda feels like you’re his priority today. You can’t deny that it makes you feel good. 

For now he has you pulled on top of himself on the couch. You’re watching one of your guilty pleasure reality shows. Lando is making fun of the people who participate, but doesn’t complain about the show itself. In the mean time he focusses on playing with your hair. He has you closer on top op him then last night. Maybe it’s because you’re sick and in the need of comfort, maybe it’s because you slowly start to realize that you like Lando, but you let him hold you exactly how he wants to. Meaning that you’re on top of him, with your head on his chest. 

Eventually you fall asleep on top of Lando. The tiredness of being sick caught up with you. Lando is quick to notice it. He hears the soft snores which you’re letting out caused by your cold. It’s cute according to him, although he’s sure you won’t agree with him on that. While you’re sleeping, Lando continues to play with your hair. 

Lando has sunken deep into his own thoughts. He can’t stop thinking about the progress he made. Max would be proud of him. It has always surprised him how supportive Max has been about his feelings for you. What once started like a small crush, has developed into a massive one for now. Max once told him about your ex and how he really disliked the guy - something Lando strongly agrees with since yesterday. But, because of that Lando always thought Max would be protective and wouldn’t be a fan when he told him about his crush.

“You’re the worst you know,” Max tells Lando with a soft chuckle. Lando is quick to watch away from you and to focus his attention on his friend. He really should stop staring this much at you. In the mean time you’re walking away. Lando can’t help it and watches you once again. 

“The absolute worst,” Max continues.

“Hm?” Lando asks, “Why am I the worst?”

“Your eyes are practically glued on my sister,” Max states. 

Lando wants to deny the words of Max, but he can’t even find words to do so. Max is right. He only hopes that Max doesn’t connect the dots further. Max laughs when Lando doesn’t respond at first. 

“Don’t stress about it,” Max continues, “I don’t mind your crush on her.”

“My crush?” Lando is quick to ask, “I don’t have a-“

“Lando,” Max sighs while interrupting him. “You don’t have to lie about it.”

“You don’t mind it?” Lando asks, he needs to make sure he heard it right. Max has always been really protective about you, so Lando is surprised with how this is going. 

“If she has to have a boyfriend, then your my first pick.”

It’s the doorbell that shakes him out of his earlier thoughts. Lando opens the app on his phone. You’re still asleep on his lap. He wants to keep it that way. When he sees the person in front of the door, he chuckles softly. What a coincidence. He taps on the microphone and starts to talk.

“Hey Max, there’s a key under the doormat. I’m in the living room,” he says. He notices how Max nods at him and starts to search for the key. It only takes a small minute before Max is walking into his living room. 

When Max walks in, the first thing he notices is you laying on top of Lando while being peacefully asleep. He lets out a soft laugh while looking at Lando and you. “Things are finally working out for you I see?” He asks at first.

While Lando and Max are making some small talk, you slowly wake up as well. At first you wonder to who Lando is talking to, but then you recognize the voice of your brother. You doubt about opening your eyes and showing the boys that you’re awake. They seem to have fun talking together. You decide to give yourself a couple more minutes before intervening in the conversation of Max and Lando. 

“You keep surprising me,” you hear Max tell to Lando, “A couple nights back she kept texting me about how annoying you were and how you were keeping awake, but now she’s sleeping on top of you? And in your sweater?” 

“It’s a surprise for me as well,” Lando replies. You feel how his hand finds your hair again. Slowly he caresses your hair locks. It makes you feel even more comfortable. It can’t be good how comfortable you are with Lando. It surprises you.

“So no more random girls?” Max asks. 

You can’t hear Lando his response. He probably either shook or nodded his head. You wonder which one was it. Max chuckles about it, so you guess he nodded his head. You know for a fact that Lando is a player and will always stay one. It makes your small crush on him only more hopeless. What you don’t know is that Lando never shook his head harder to answer with no to a question. 

“But since when are you this close?” Max asks further.

“I don’t know if we’re this close,” Lando sighs, “There was some drama yesterday night, but she should tell you herself about that. I picked her up and tried to help her. And this morning she was sick, so we did nothing all day expect lay on the couch.”

“Since when can you do that?” Max asks surprised, “Normally you can’t even be home for more then an hour.”

Slowly you open your eyes as well. It starts to feel a bit rude to listen to Max and Lando like this. Although you do feel kinda annoyed that Lando still is having sex with other girls. Not that you care, of course. Max is the first one to discover your open eyes and that you seem to be awake. 

“Hey!” He greets you enthusiastically. Softly you greet your brother back. You try to sit up a bit instead of laying on Lando, but Lando is quick to keep you close to him. He does however let you sit straight, but after that he pulls you into his arms again. You don’t say anything about it, you just let it happen. Maybe you should stop things like this. You remember yourself about Lando and the other girls and slowly move away from Lando. 

In the mean time Max tells Lando and you everything that happened to him lately. You try to focus on his words, but Lando beats you with responding quickly every time. You let it happen. In some strange way, you can’t seem to focus. Maybe it’s still the sickness. 

“What did I hear? You had some drama?” Max asks you eventually with a smile.

“It was my ex,” you softly sigh. Max is quick to lose his earlier smile. You know that he has always hated your ex. There wasn’t any specific reason, as far that you know, but Max didn’t like your ex since the beginning. 

“What happened?” Max asks quickly.

You start to explain everything to Max what happened last night, giving more details this time then Lando even knew. “He still had some of my stuff,” you start, “and he wanted to meet up to give it back, so we agreed on grabbing dinner together. At first it wasn’t that bad, but eventually he started about getting back together.”

“He wanted to get back together with you?” Lando asks you annoyed. You show him a small nod. Max is muttering some swear words as well in the mean time. You ignore their reactions and continue with telling them what happened. 

“I told him that I wasn’t interested anymore,” you explain, “but he thought I had a new boyfriend. He even asked me if it was Lando. I kept telling him that I’m still single, but not feeling anything for him anymore but he didn’t believe me. Eventually he called me a bitch, so I paid for my part and wanted to leave.”

“You should have called me earlier,” Lando mutters, “I should have joined you or something, I knew it was a bad idea.” 

“He kept bugging me while I was waiting for Lando to pick me up. Thank god Lando broke probably every speed law and was there really fast,” you joke, “but when my ex saw Lando, he got even more mad. He called me a slut.”

“He called you a slut?” Max asks angrily. You nod. 

“Then it kinda escalated,” you continue, “Long story short, he called me a slut again, Lando punched him and eventually my ex missed Lando and punched me.” 

Max is quick to stand up. “I’m going to kill him,” he mutters, “What a fucking idiot.”

“But Lando made him scared and then he ran away,” you end the story. 

Max is still angry. He does however turn his attention towards Lando. “This is why,” Max eventually tells Lando. You have no clue about what he’s talking, but Lando seems to get it. Lando even shows him a small smile. He knows that this is Max telling him why he does approve of him trying to get with you. 

+++

Later that day you feel a lot better then before. Even good enough to have an argument with Lando. It annoys you that things always have to go like this. Everything went well today, but now you’re feeling angry with him again. You don’t even know how it happened, but you’re almost screaming at Lando right now. Fuck. 

Lando just told you about his plans to have some drinks with friends tonight, meaning that he would leave you alone for the rest of the night. You couldn’t help yourself and made a small remark about him coming home again with a girl. Which Lando denied, according to him he hasn’t done that since the last girl you heard. Something you don’t believe. 

“Why don’t you believe me?” Lando sighs. 

“Because you’re a player,” you reply annoyed, “you don’t change like that.”

Lando lets out another loud sigh. He doesn’t know what to say. Of course, he realizes that your claims aren’t coming from nowhere. Maybe he even thinks he deserves it, but still… he wants you to believe him. 

“Why do you even care about this?” Lando eventually asks you a bit hopeless. He doesn’t know why you’re arguing with him about this. Of course, he hopes that you do care about it, but the chances are kinda low for that. 

“I don’t care about it,” you are quick to state. 

“Then why are we arguing about this?” Lando continues to ask.

You don’t have an answer for that question. Lando is right, if you claim to not care about this then it’s stupid to even talk about it. But having this argument with him, is less scary then confessing that you actually do care about it. 

“So correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t care if I’m bringing home a girl?” Lando asks further. He’s pushing it this time. Of course, he hopes that you’re going to deny his words but he’s afraid that you won’t. 

You doubt about your answer. Maybe you should just be honest. You do care if Lando brings home a girl, because you really don’t want it to happen. This time not because you’re afraid that the sounds will wake you up, but because you’re afraid for your own reaction when it happens. It annoys you that you can’t seem to trust yourself around Lando anymore. There’s a small part inside of you who’s dying to disagree with Lando his words, to tell him that you do care about it. But the small part doesn’t win, you’re not confessing. 

“I don’t care,” you state.

Lando takes one last look at you before walking away. He shakes his head in disbelief and sighs while walking away from the living room. In the mean time he decides that this was it. It has no use to walk after you and to wait until you’ll give him a chance, if that would ever happen. You don’t care about him fucking with another girl, so why would he hold back anymore? He really needs to forget about his crush on you. It can’t go like this any longer.

Later that night, you can’t seem to fall asleep. You’re still annoyed by everything that happened. Maybe you’re even so annoyed that you’re still sitting on the couch and scrolling on your phone, instead of being in your bed and catching some sleep. You feel your fever rising up again, but you don’t let yourself go to bed. 

You need to know if Lando brings someone home.

Lando didn’t text you, you also didn’t text him after he walked away. You don’t know if he’s coming home late, you can only hope it won’t be that late. You know that this is weird. This isn’t healthy. But still, here you are - sitting on the couch and waiting for Lando to come back home. Maybe you should talk about this with Max? You really need some help.

Before you can make up your mind, you hear the front door opening. It only takes two seconds before you have the answer on your burning question. 

It’s the innocent giggles of another random girl that forms the answer to your question. Of course, he bought someone home with him.

a/n; sorry took a bit longer this time :( kinda busy with workkk. hope everyone likes this chapter, the next one will have something more happening :))))

part six

taglist: @booksandflowrs @hiireadstuff @likedbygaslyy @dreamsarebig @f1fantasys

@samantha-chicago @sweatrevenge5436-blog @queenofmanydreams @fionamiller123

@chezmardybum @f-1-lover-16 @formulaal @shellybee456 @sltwins

@mouchii @emyladia @v3rnom @customsbyjcg-blog @cthgee @moonclaine

@scarletwidow3000 @bokutos-babyowl @loloekie @lyannesworld @silentreader128

@oreosareara @gabotomo @princesspristins @leclercsluv @lina505

@sideboobrry11 @zucchinimalfoy @danielshoe @alana4610 @viannasthings

@toriiez @randomnessis-mine-me @cmleitora

@kika-writes @fionamiller123 @noneofyourfbusinessworld @lqvesoph @lyannesworld

@sheeeesthings @ssararuffoni @f1fantasys @chrissiekitty19-blog @voidsfics

@curbthatmf @m41-k1tt3n @f1fantasys @m41-k1tt3n @allywthsr

@curbthatmf @sheeeesthings @m41-k1tt3n @blacksoul-27 @f1fantasys

@spideylovin @splzq @chcolateeyelver @bennywattsgf @mswwvaleska

@lifesass @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @insunia

[xxsabitoxx]

Okkotsu Yuta NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men - here is scheduled post number 13 :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Yuta’s aftercare is perfect in every possible way. This man puts so much effort into making sure you are comfortable, clean, and happy after sex. He’ll usually always run you a bath, even if you are exhausted. He’ll carry you into the bathroom and get in the tub with you. He takes the time to fill it with epsom salts and calming aroma scents like lavender and eucalyptus. He’ll massage your body wherever you say you’re a bit tender and he’ll make sure to scrub you clean. Yuta feels energized after sex so it’s not surprising that he has so much energy to take care of you. He’ll make sure to dry you off thoroughly and help you dress in the softest of pajamas. He’ll dry and brush your hair for you, get you water and even pain relievers if he thinks you’ll need them. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yuta is totally infatuated with your chest. He adores everything about it, big, small, flat, doesn’t matter, he’ll spend hours sucking on your chest. Yuta loves to spoon with you, his hands under your shirt and cupping your chest happily, he isn’t even doing it to initiate something with you, he just adores the warmth and softness they offer him. When he’s fucking you, he loves watching your hands scramble to hold your chest because he’s rutting into you too damn hard and causing your whole body to recoil because of it. Which, of course, only makes him work harder. 

Yuta is quite shy at first, finding it hard to pinpoint a part of his body that he favors. But, over time, Yuta finds he has a lot of confidence in his arms. Specifically his forearms, because of the way they bulge when he uses his strength to keep you in place. Or maybe when he’s fucking you in front of a mirror and can see the way his arms look wrapped around your waist. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s filthy, in every way possible. Yuta loves seeing you ruined and fucked out, but he also loves seeing you covered in the sticky mess that his cum makes. Honestly, he’ll cum anywhere you want him to. Even then he can’t make the promise that it’ll end up where you want it, he could aim for your chest but end up on your face, he could aim for coming inside and accidentally pull out and spill his load on your sex. It depends how lost he is in the moment. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Yuta really likes when you degrade him and call him mean names. He doesn’t even have an explanation for why it turns him on the way it does but he loves it. That and the fact that he finds you so unbelievably hot when you’re mad at him… which is really rare cause he doesn’t do many things to piss you off. But fighting is inevitable in relationships, and for the two of you it usually ends in marathon sex so he can’t say he doesn’t like arguing either. He tries not to piss you off on purpose… unless he’s really horny and in the mood to get fucked stupid. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Yuta doesn’t have a ton of experience but you’d never guess it. He’s had maybe two or three partners max and only one instance of a one night stand. Still, he’ll get texts from blocked numbers begging for him back because nobody can fuck them like he did. He’ll show you the messages when they come in and let you handle them how you please, he has all he needs right in front of him so he couldn’t care less about texts like that. Needless to say, Yuta not only knows how to make someone feel good, but how to leave a lasting impression. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, and if you find that boring clearly you’ve been doing it wrong. Yuta adores missionary, I mean he enjoys fucking you in just about every position but there is something so intimate about missionary that drives him up the wall. He loves how close you are, how he can feel your body moving against his, how his weight is making you wheeze and squirm and just produce the prettiest noises he’s ever heard. He loves how he can still kiss you, bite you, and suck hickeys on your neck even when you beg him not to. He loves how he can hear you so perfectly, watching your face contort as you try and hide your cute noises. It’s perfect. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Yuta can be a bit humorous during sex, cracking a few smiles at you and sly comments. It just feels weird for him to be completely serious when with you, even if he’s mad or worked up. Yuta will never fail to pull a smile onto your face as he says something so sweet it nearly makes your teeth ache. He’s such a love bug, especially when he’s being intimate with you. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yuta has a love-hate relationship with his hair down there. He likes to keep it short and neat but sometimes life gets away from him and his hair grows out more than he would like it to. You, for one, don’t care about his hair down there but Yuta can get a bit shy if you’re getting intimate and he hasn’t had time to clean up his groin lmao

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If you couldn’t tell by his favorite position and his humor, Yuta is very romantic during sex. But romantic in a shy way when you’re first getting into things, as he lets loose, so do his words. You swear Yuta is telling you he loves you every time his hips connect with yours… it’s because he is. He’s nearly lovesick for you as he ruts his hips into you, doesn’t matter if he just saw you this morning, that man misses you and he will make sure you know it. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Yuta’s frequency can vary depending on his mood and work schedule. Before meeting you, he would get himself off once a week minimum. Most weeks he’d jerk off a healthy two-three times. Now, the only time he’ll jerk off is if he’s away from you for too long or if he really needs to do stuff and he can’t get it to go down on its own. Yuta also isn’t shy about using toys to get himself off ��� that means vibrators, pocket pussies, butt plugs oops-

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Master/Slave kink, I will not go into detail on this one I just… I just think he’d like it if you ordered him around and called him a good boy. He’s heavy on dom/sub but he’s easily a switch and enjoys being in either position. Yuta has a mild breeding kink, one that only comes out when he’s really upset… like if you get injured. I’d also say Yuta is into somnophilia because there have been times he returned from a mission and you’re already passed out but he’s worked up. You’ve discussed it before so it’s completely consensual and he finds it so cute when you start making noises in your sleep as he buries his fingers inside to prep you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Yuta loves fucking you on just about any surface but he’s grown quite fond of bathtub sex. Something about the steam filling the room, the hot water, the intimacy of the moment, the urge to be careful in order to not make a mess of the room. There are so many factors that go into fucking in the bathtub that Yuta almost views it as a challenge, which is part of the enjoyment. Yuta is also an avid lover of car sex, for similar reasons to fucking in the bath, he likes the risks that come with it. He finds the possibilities of getting caught or trying not to make an absolute mess to be very fun… plus watching you try and keep quiet is amusing for him. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He’s a sucker for non-sexual intimacy just as he’s a sucker for sexual intimacy. Yuta has absolutely popped a hard-on because you cuddled into him while sitting on the couch. He’s mildly embarrassed about the fact that some of the most innocent touches get him worked up, but he just can’t help how in love he is with you. Yuta is also very obsessed with lingerie, he’ll never expect you to wear it for him or always be wearing cute undergarments. But it’s a real treat for him when you decide to “dress up” in that sense. You may notice him being a tad more handsy with you when you tease him with a lacy waistband peeking above your pants. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hateful, mean, spiteful sex. Anything along the lines of hooking up just to put someone in their place if that makes sense? He can certainly be rough, but it’s out of love and adoration for you. He’s never liked the idea of hook-ups or one night stands, he’s much more into emotions and really caring about someone when sleeping with them. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Yuta is all about your pleasure so it’s not surprising that he has a preference for giving oral. Not to say he doesn't love receiving it, he definitely adores it, but going down on you is almost like a guilty pleasure for him. He’ll go down on you to relieve his own stress, spending hours between your thighs until he is satisfied with how many times you’ve come. His skills came naturally, somehow knowing exactly what to do when he got down there. If you were his first? You’d never guess it, Yuta is very skilled with his tongue… something else that’ll make him blush if you mention it. He’s still shy somehow. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Yuta can and will adjust his pace to your liking, but naturally the man is pretty eager and can start off faster than intended. He learned over time that it is much more gratifying to work his way up to the rougher and faster paces, especially since you’ll start to whine and beg for him to go faster or be rougher. The way you plead with him drives him absolutely wild. When he’s sleepy, worn out from a day's work and still needs to satisfy his cravings of you, Yuta’s hips take a much more languid and sensual roll. He’ll press his lips to your ear so you can hear his breathing struggle as he whispers his love and adoration for you. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yeah but also no… he’s conflicted mostly because he can never keep a quickie… quick. Even car sex can span on for twenty minutes if he’s not mindful. He just gets so lost in you and your body, how is he supposed to speed things up when he feels he has all the time in the world?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll experiment with you for sure but he will shamelessly research what you want to try before even bringing it into the bedroom. He does this because he wants to make sure it’s safe and something he will also enjoy. But he also does this to make sure he does it properly for you, buys the right things, has the right idea on the concept. He wants you to enjoy it properly of course. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Bless you honestly, this man can go all fucking night and even past the sunrise if he really wants to. He’ll wear you out and make sure you need to call out of work the next day because he swears he’s not done with you yet. Yuta is an avid lover of marathon sex and he has the stamina to keep up with it. Usually he can go as long as ten minutes per round once he gets inside of you but he will not hold himself back from coming, so he’s not usually one to stick out the full ten minutes unless he’s just trying to tease you. He knows going longer can sometimes become painful. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yuta loves toys, both on you and himself. He thinks they are incredibly fun to use in bed with you and just by himself. He’s not opposed to any toys really, he’ll buy/use whatever he feels like or whatever you express interest in wanting. Nothing is really off limits in that sense. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Yuta can tease you but he’s not really unfair. He’ll edge you unintentionally and make up for it seconds later. He’ll praise you until you’re squirming, roll his hips a little slower to hear you whine, but he’s never dragging on his teasing. He’d rather see you crying from pleasure than desperation cause he’s holding back. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Yuta. Whimpers. Yuta. Whines. 

You can’t tell me anything different. Yuta will not restrain his noises… mostly because he’s incapable of doing so. He’ll moan and curse, babble on and on about how good you feel, thank you over and over for letting him have you. He’s learned to not be embarrassed by his noises because he realized how much they seem to turn you on. He takes it as a compliment now. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

One of Yuta’s biggest guilty pleasures is cock-warming. He loves being close to you, cuddling you tightly as you both try and sleep. So why not take it a step further and just… slip inside. His only issue is that he can never promise it’ll remain cock-warming. His hips or yours turn restless at some point and you’ll easily get carried away. But, on nights where you’re both able to control yourselves, Yuta will knock out within seconds of slipping inside of you. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

When soft, Yuta is sitting at 5.2 inches. Once hard, Yuta is 6.3 inches and curves upwards. He’s got a good girth to him, the kind that requires some getting used to but doesn’t hurt if he prepares you correctly. He’s got a pretty cock, which you’ve mentioned before just to see his face turn a shade of scarlet as you kept reassuring him that you meant it. He’s paler with a pretty flushed pink tip and some light veins running along his shaft. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Man he could fuck you every day of the week, all hours of the day, if he had the time. His sex drive is unbelievably high, this boy was touch starved and now he can’t get enough.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will not fall asleep until he assures that you have been properly taken care of. Yuta also feels pretty energized after sex so he may not come right back to bed after he’s sure you’re comfy. Depending on the time of day, he’s actually gone for a run after or cleaned the house before accompanying you in bed again. You like to tease him and call him an overachiever for doing more cardio after all the cardio he just did. Typically though, if you fuck before bed, he’ll be asleep within thirty minutes or so. 

[bunnys-kisses]

mv

max verstappen (mv1)

cw: smut/pwp, tattoos, (slight) possessive behavior, coercion, bimbo!reader, doggy style, multiple orgasms

bunny says: 👀

max just adored you. there was something about you that brought him to life. more than a driver, more than a winner. max would describe himself as committed to the point that he could be obsessive. once he had his eye on the prize, he would see it through to the end.

wins, championships, sponsorships, you.

mad max was an unstoppable force. when it came to you however, max was a whole different man. he could feel the curl of jealousy in his gut as he watched you be your typical, friendly self at the paddock. max couldn't help it.

you were an excited little bunny when you ran up to hug sergio, you practically jumped as you held him. he came in at a strong fourth and you wanted to make sure he felt like he did a good job too!

"you did great!"

"thank you, thank you!" he laughed as he held you in return. as he gave you a quick hug he could see over your shoulder, max verstappen, teammate and winner, looking back at him with his arms crossed.

yeah, he didn't want to cross that line and pulled away. he smiled at you and said, "you should go see our winner." then patted you on the shoulder.

you nodded, you were so painfully innocent at times. then you scampered off to your boyfriend. you ran into his arms and gave him a big hug and kiss.

he held you jaw and looked into your eyes, "someone busy?"

"all the attention was on you, max! i wanted to make sure sergio knew he did good as well."

he pulled you in for another kiss and said, "i see." as he looked at you. he said with a small smile, "you're just too sweet. now come on. let's see me on the podium."

you were a flirt, maybe not purposefully but, you could just be so friendly that it bordered on flirting. you cared deeply about how people felt! you didn't want anyone to feel like shit about themselves. max thought it was adorable, but it could get you into trouble sometimes.

like when a mechanic tried to pick you up or when you were just so sweet to toto wolff that he thought that you were flirting with him. you were going to give poor max a heart attack!

you were back in the hotel room at sliverstone, with your hands on a slice of pizza. you told him earlier that those expensive appetizers post-game weren't going to cut it as a meal.

you were in a pair of sleeping shorts that were pushed up by the way you were seated and one of max's redbull t-shirts that really showed off your chest. you made a soft noise as you bit into the slice. it had been a while since you had unhealthy, greasy food.

max was seated beside you on the couch, the box of warm pizza between you two. he took in the slight of your body and your sweet noises. you just looked too painfully cute.

he reached over and touched your hair, "does it taste good?"

you nodded and looked at him, the glint in your eye turned him on. you were just so honest and kind, and it drove him up the wall! not in a bad way, he didn't want to dampen your spirits. he loved it all about you. but he also felt like he needed a way to claim a sort of ownership over you.

the idea came to him when you moved just the right way and the shorts slid up enough to show the roundness of your behind. it was like a light bulb went off in his head as he watched you adjust yourself. he leaned over the pizza box to get closer to you as he asked, "how would you feel about a tattoo?"

"tattoo?" you asked.

he nodded, "yeah, i think you'd look cute with a tattoo. then everyone in the paddock would know who you belonged to."

you blinked at him, "they don't already? i wear your number all the time!" you put the slice back in the box and tapped your greasy bottom lip, "i swear they knew."

god, you were just too sweet. he reached out for you and held your chin gently, "maybe my verstappen logo on your..behind." he moved the box onto the table and invaded your space, "i mean, you will be mrs. verstappen soon." he kissed your cheek gently.

you devolved into a flurry of giggles and said, "max! don't say that!" and looked at him when he pulled away, "do you really mean that?"

he touched your cheek, he wasn't lying. but there were things that needed to be done before you took his last name. but, he just smiled and said, "sooner than you know." then kissed you on the lips, the taste of pizza grease felt inviting as he got himself on top of you.

it wouldn't be long before you had an appointment booked for a special tattoo. max watched you lie there with your ass to the air on the tattoo table. you had a thin pair of white panties on and when the needle touched your skin, you made a small noise.

he had figured out that you were into this. you liked the sharp pain of getting a tattoo as you got max's logo tattooed onto your skin. he had seen other people with the tattoo, in less sensitive areas. but to see you have it aroused him as he sat nearby with his face against his fist and seated on a chair.

his blue eyes watched the ink flourish in its design. it was just a logo but he almost had to bite his fist to keep himself from ogling you. you whimpered at one point and made a pouty face at him for him to hold your hand.

he was more than happy to do so, the tattoo artist struck up an conversation. and max smiled and answered his questions. he just kept rubbing your knuckle as he happily told the artist all about your relationship. he liked that you were lying there quiet as the machine buzzed against your ass.

"are you feeling alright?" he asked as he pushed back your hair and smiled down at you.

you nodded, "yeah, i'll be okay. just a weird feeling."

max looked over to see that the tattoo was almost done and it looked perfect. the 'm' and the 'v' of the logo were perfect and max had to compose himself in his seat. once you were done, he watched you as you carefully put your tiny shorts back on.

the tattoo was on the side of your ass which allowed you to still sit down in max's expensive car after the session. max was beyond overjoyed at the knowledge that you had his mark on your body.

he kept his hand on your thigh as he drove you back to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend. he could feel his cock stir in his pants as he asked, "did it hurt?"

you looked at him and shook your head, "nope! well, not too much, but i was able to pull through because you were there!" you shot him a smile.

max gripped your thigh with affection before he helped you out of the car. he ushered you into the hotel, his patience and ability to keep it together was wearing thin. he needed to see you, with all your clothes and only the bandage covering the tattoo being the only thing on your body.

it wasn't hard to shepherd you into bed. he was careful about getting you out of those clothes of yours. he watched you with lust in his eyes as he you sat at the edge of the bed naked.

his jaw clenched in unrestrained desire as he felt his heart rate pick up. he got undressed before he cornered you on the bed, you laid back and he said, "i want to try something."

soon you were on your hands and knees with your ass sticking up in the air. perfect angle for the driver to sink his cock into your sweet pussy. he looked at the shape of you, the beauty of your curves and that bandage against your ass.

he wanted to peel it back see the ink job. he wanted to watch it move as he slammed his cock into you. the arousal built up in him paired with the possessiveness he held for you.

you were just so painfully innocent at times. he was doing this to protect you, no one would touch his beloved girl if she wore his logo. now a more rational max would've picked a cute gold chain or even a shirt. but max had to go the full mile. shirts would one day not fit and gold could be ruined.

he watched the bandage move as he fucked you. in a few weeks it'll come off and he could watch that logo bounced as he sank his entire cock into you.

"such a good girl." you'd give him the world. and he in turn would give you the stars. anything you desired would be yours, all he asked was for an undying loyalty. maybe he was a little paranoid, but he was desperate to make sure that the one he loved stayed by him.

he landed a smack across the side of your ass without the tattoo. he could feel the warmth in his gut, it seeped into his head as he continued to batter his cock against the back of your cunt. encouraged by your strung out moans as you felt heat course through your body.

two lovers, fucking like animals. stripping the skin of humanity and dunked into the carnal desire to fuck. you were a pitiful little puppy who loved attention while he was the hound who'd keep you safe and your cunt full.

his hands gripped onto your hips, feeling the softness under his palms. he rutted against you, his breath hot against your sweaty neck as he kept you bent to get the best angle of the bandage.

he couldn't wait, he also couldn't wait to show it off. he was a possessive little fuck, the world at his fingertips and he dug them into the meat of your hips.

the bed creaked under the both of you as he fucked you with abandon. your heat was in a whirlwind and there was coating of sweat all over you.

max came two before you did, the grip of your wet cunt around him drove him almost mad. but he kept fucking you sweet cum filled pussy until you arched you back even further and climaxed around him.

hims cum pooled in the back of your pussy thanks to the angle. and you panted heavily on the bed. he pulled out and watched his pearly cum leak out of your poor pussy.

"can't have that." he said as he collected it on his fingers and shoved them back in you. he dove his two fingers into your sweet pussy. then fingered you until you were a whimpery, whiny mess.

a perfect girl,

he managed to pull another orgasm out of you before he took out his fingers and watched you go limp onto the bed. the fight was long out of you. you laid on your side, exhausted with your mind swarming in circles. your pulse as quick as things seemed to slow down. you panted heavily. max held your face in his hands and he kissed the tip of your nose.

"good girl." he praised.

about a month later, on the track you looked divine in your little tennis skirt. you should've had "max #1" written across the ass. as he pulled you against his side, he hiked your skirt a little to show the side your thigh and ass. there was his logo.

he smirked with his face close against yours. for all eyes to see. you were max verstappen's <3.

[ferrstappen]

let me take care of it l LN4

a/n: this was inspired by the gorgeous gorgeous scene of K-mag and his daughter 💘 also, this is ALL OVER THE PLACE bc I wrote it on my phone in like 15 min but still hope you like it💘 I’ll also update dad max tomorrow 💘

summary: when papa isn’t feeling his best, baby Norris knows what she has to do.

Lando wasn’t feeling his best and everyone could see it; it didn’t matter what anyone said, whether it was his dad, mum, sisters, Zak, Oscar, even you… he couldn’t stop being so harsh on himself that every person on the paddock wanted to lay his back and tell him to catch a break, he still is one of the best.

Your arrival to Abu Dhabi has been one worthy of the last race of the season, the private flight full of the Norris family, from the little ones to the in laws, with your parents chatting and laughing with Lando’s mum as they took turns to hold Amalia.

Everything was going great, really, but as the weekend started rolling and after quali, his smile faltered, face hardened, bringing himself down for some mistake.

So you made sure the hotel room had everything he needed, left Amalia sleeping on the crib while you picked his race day boxers, McLaren tshirt and joggers, so he could just throw his body to the bed and fall asleep.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him as he settled his body in front of yours, not even asking to be the little spoon.

“No, but I just want tomorrow to be over so we can go home and be alone, you know?” His voice came out muffled by the pillow and your arm. “The only thing I want is to get home and start decorating for Christmas, Amy’s first Christmas… that’s all I want,”

“Okay then, let’s focus on that,” kissing his shoulder, you noticed his breathing slowing down.

Amalia Norris was a known face around the paddock, even if she couldn’t speak or even walk, she greeted everyone with a quick movement of her hand and happy squeal, depending on who it was.

Now, she had big things to protect her ears from all the sounds, Lando’s helmet and gloves in front of her and just as she was about to reach for the gloves and get scolded by you, Lando appeared with his usual smile, chest buffing at the sight of his two girls cheering him on, both wearing papaya.

“Do you want to help me get ready for the car, bubba?” Lando asked his daughter and she clapped her hands, giggling, almost as if she was trying to say something but couldn’t. “Okay, gloves please,”

Lando supposed it was going to be a show but no, his daughter had a concentrated look on her face as her small hands grabbed the glove and put it on Lando’s hand, repeating the action.

Before putting on the helmet, Lando picked her up, giving her a tight hug and loudly kissing her cheek just to fill his ears with her melodic laugh, the only fuel he needed. He closed his eyes while her hands grabbed both of his cheeks to get him closer and leave a kiss on his forehead, and in that moment Lando thought he was capable to give up the last race of the season just for this moment to never end.

“I think you need the helmet, huh?” You reminded the pair, taking Amalia from your boyfriend’s arms.

Lando gave you a quick peck on the lips before putting on the helmet, adjusting it until it was perfect, but there was one last detail.

“Visor, baby,” Lando pointed at it and Amalia carefully closed it, now he was ready.

“Good luck, daddy!” You told him as you noticed people were looking for him.

“Daddy? I thought in public it was papa,” he cheekily added, making you blush.

“Shut up, go get second place!” You joked before blowing him a kiss.

“I’m only thinking about our Christmas tree, baby. I love you both.”

[softtdaisy]

🌲 a found family l max verstappen

summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.

words count. 2,596

a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it. 

And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.

He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift. 

Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.

“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours. 

He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart. 

“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?” 

“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.” 

This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan. 

From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.

Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?

“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?” 

“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.

Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did. 

That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.

And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.

“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.

For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.

But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.

“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.” 

“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.

“Yep. You’re happy.” 

Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”

It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.

“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.” 

Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.

If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile. 

“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.

Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment. 

At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.

Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.

“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.

“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”

Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.

“A woman is always a burden in a career.” 

“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.” 

“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.

Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”

He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.

Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.

But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.

“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval. 

Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve. 

“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.” 

Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.

Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.” 

The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved. 

And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.

When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.

“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.

That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.

So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.

You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.

“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!” 

You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him. 

But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.

All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member. 

It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had. 

“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.

You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own. 

But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”

You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied. 

And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

drummer in a band

words: 2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, male receiving oral, tour bus sex, brief mention of rafe being okay with cheating??, famous!rafe, drummer!rafe, fan!reader, very brief mention of rafes mom dying

rafes mother was the one who pushed him into it. a way to get out of his anger. it was the last thing she asked of him before she died, and as much as rafe struggles to admit it now, the only reason he never gave it up was for her.

he looks out into the crowd in a brief break between songs, listening to the main singer, tyler, who has slowly become a friend, address the sea of people.

it's the biggest venue they've ever played. rafe never thought he'd be in front of thousands of people coming from his small island, let alone playing the drums they're all dancing along to.

the earpiece turned to max volume announces and then counts down to the next song. rafe falls into easy rhythm, having practiced this song a million times. the last one of their set, the hit everyone is waiting for.

rafe doesn't feel the passion for performance like his other band members, but the money is something he can never say no to.

rafe gives the crowd a wave as he heads off stage alongside his band mates, noting the excited cheer of fans at the front of the crowd, so intrigued by the mysterious rafe.

“hey, some of my sisters friends wanna meet you.” tyler says, tugging rafe towards the open backstage area rather than escaping out the door to his tour bus like he always does.

“fine.” rafe grumbles, wiping the sweat from his forehead, just wanting to get back and get in the shower. his biceps are sore from drumming and he has no interest in talking to random girls.

no interest until he sees you.

rafe ignores the other girls all fawning over him and his band mates and steps right up to you.

“hi.” you say quietly, a shy smile creeping onto your face. “im y/n.”

“im rafe.” he says, eyes swirling all over your face, taking in your features.

“i know.” you laugh softly, and rafe loves the sound so much he wants to hear what other sounds you can make. “im a fan. i like that keeping secrets song.”

rafe smirks. keeping secrets is the song with the longest drum solo, and probably the closest to the style of music he likes to make most. “thanks, y/n.”

“don't feel like you have to stay and talk to me.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “you're probably sick of meeting random people and want to go back to your bus.”

“nah, i don't mind when they are as pretty as you.” rafe says, before glancing around the room, noticing no one is really paying attention to either of you. “but if you'd like to go back to the tour bus with me…”

you're nodding quickly, allowing rafe to place a hand on your upper back as he leads you through hallways and doors until you get outside. rafe peeks out first, noticing a gaggle of girls on the other side of the fence.

“you don't mind if pictures are taken of us?” rafe asks. he doesn't care if anything hurts his reputation, but he doesn't want to put you in a bad spot.

“as long as you don't.” you shrug. “i don't have a boyfriend.”

“good.” rafe realizes that he didn't even ask, or really care. if you did have a boyfriend he would have just snuck you out a different way.

rafe pushes open the door, not bothering to hide his intentions as he wraps an arm around your waist as you make the short walk to the tour bus.

“this one is just mine.” rafe says. “it was a requirement when tyler wanted me to your with them. i wasn't about to travel around the country packed in with them.”

“it's nicer than i expected.” you admit, looking around the surprisingly spacious living area.

“the bedrooms in the back.” rafe points.

“oh, trying to rush to get me in your bed?” you turn to look at rafe.

“im just trying to give you the full tour.” he says, but you're already walking backwards down the aisle, a smirk on your face.

rafe is quick to follow, glad he picked up all the dirty laundry before the concert. he shuts the bedroom door behind you even though no one should be entering his bus for a while.

“kiss me.” you tell rafe, gripping your hands onto his collar.

rafe ducks his head, his mouth covering yours. he wraps his arms around your middle, tugging you in close, feeling the way your bodies mould together just as your lips do, sharing dominance back and forth.

rafes hand drops to your bum, giving it a squeeze and using your mouth opening in a moan as an opportunity to thrust his tongue forward, licking and pressing against your own tongue.

rafe tips you backwards and you allow it, falling back onto the bed.

your eyes follow rafes every movement closely, the way he pulls his shirt off and tosses it away, revealing his chiseled torso. you could already tell how strong he was from his arms during drumming, but his physique is even more impressive when he's shirtless.

“like what you see?” rafe asks with a smirk. you blink your eyes to get out of the trance he's put you in enough to take your own shirt off.

“i don't know, do you like what you see?” you ask as rafe crawls onto the bed, his hands gripping over your tits, covered only by a leopard print bra.

“fuck yeah i do.” rafe answers, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp before pulling the bra away, flinging it to the other side of the room as his palms cover your chest again, thumbs finding your nipples and swirling around them until they're hard peaks.

rafe surges forward to kiss you when you let out a moan, unable to keep his lips away from you when you sound so good, fingers continuing to toy with your nipples as his hips slot between your legs, pressing his hard length against your core.

you take it as a cue to move against him, grinding your hips upward, annoyed at the barriers separating you but glad that they'll be gone soon.

“need you naked right now.” rafe pulls away, clearly having the same thoughts you are.

“and i need your cock in my mouth.” you confirm, both sliding off the bed to undress in a rush, hands gliding over the revealed parts of each other's bodies.

you sink to your knees the moment rafe pushes his underwear down, coming eye to eye with his cock, hard and standing away from his body.

“god.” rafe groans, head tipping back as your lips wrap around the head of his cock, giving it a gentle suck. his hands find a place on the back of your head, guiding you down.

rafes cock is large and pushing on your throat but you're unwilling to back down. you breathe through your nose until you're able to relax and take him all the way down.

“shit!” rafe moans out as you begin to drag your lips up and down his length, starting slowly but quickly picking up speed.

rafes hands help guide you, the taste of his skin filling your mouth, not even minding that he just performed a show. the slight tinge of sweat just makes everything better as you breathe in deeply through your nose and flick your tongue against the head of his cock.

despite rafes hands pushing you up and down, he can't control himself, hips slowly rocking back and forth to fuck himself deeper into your mouth.

you have tears in your eyes but don't stop yourself from looking up at rafe, watching his mouth drop in a moan as you make eye contact.

rafe pulls your mouth off of him, smearing the head of his cock over your lips as your tongue darts out to continue tasting him.

“on the bed.” rafe gives your hair a tug upwards. while you want to taste what it's like to have rafe cum down your throat, you need to have him inside of you.

you climb onto the mattress, staying on your hands and knees as you turn to look at rafe with a slight smirk on your face. “you don't have to wear a condom if you don't want. im on birth control.”

“yeah?” rafe says, the mattress dipping as he moves to kneel behind you. “and i can trust ya? not gonna baby trap me?”

“you're not that famous.” you roll your eyes with a smile on your face, making sure rafe knows you're just joking.

rafe laughs, hands squeezing your hips as he angles them upward, your arms bending to display yourself even more for rafe.

“that's it, baby.” rafe takes hold of the base of his cock, running it through your folds, feeling how wet you are.

“come on.” you wiggle your hips, ass shaking. “fuck me already.”

rafe lines himself up with your entrance, hips suddenly pushing forward to sink into your cunt. the sudden thrust and overwhelming pleasure has you falling forward onto your elbows.

“jesus, you're so-” rafe let's out a curse. “so fucking tight.”

you purposely clench your pussy tighter, feeling the way his cock pushes against your walls.

rafe gives you the shortest moment to adjust before he begins fucking into you, thrusting hard as the sound of skin slapping spreads around the tour bus.

“s-shit!” you squeal out, body rocking back and forth with the force of rafe pumping into you.

his hands squeeze your hips, fingers pressing into your flesh as his cock fills you over and over again.

you wonder briefly what your friends are doing, whether they're still talking to rafes other band mates or if the members had gone back to the other tour bus.

you aren't sure if they're aware where you are, but you don't really care in the moment as rafes thrusts speed up, a steady beat showing off his skills as a drummer to keep tempo.

one of rafes hand glides up your back to grip your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail with his fist as he tugs your head back, causing an even louder moan to fall from your lips.

“you like that don't you dirty girl?” rafe chuckles as your moans just increase the more your face gets tipped up towards the ceiling.

“god yes!” you squeal. “don't stop.”

rafe has no plans on stopping the rhythmic motion of his hips, grinding every couple thrusts to touch against the spot that has your body shivering uncontrollably, pleasure so good your mouth just hangs open, unable to even make noise.

“you gonna cum for me?” rafe questions, pounding harder knowing that he can't last much longer.

“fffff-” you get out before moaning and attempting again. “fuck yeah.”

rafe drops your hair, hand moving to wrap around your waist and rub over your clit. the quick motion is all it takes for you to cum, body shaking as you fall onto your face, pleasure coursing through your body causing you to scream out.

rafe groans at your tightness clenching tight around him, and with a few more punishing thrusts, he's spilling inside of you with a moan and filling you up.

rafe grinds his hips as you both come down from your highs until he flops down on the mattress next to you. you straighten out so your ass isn't in the air, but can't even manage to turn to your back.

“that was good.” you giggle. “im glad you weren't too tired from your show.”

“speaking of shows, you gonna come to the one on friday?” rafe asks.

“it's like an hour away right?” you hum, turning your head to look at rafe, giving him a smile that makes his heart beat a little faster. 

“yeah. you can catch a ride on the tour bus.” rafe offers. “just can't mess around before the show and use up all my energy fucking you.”

“but you'll definitely save your energy for after?”

“for you?” rafe reaches over and pulls you tight to his chest. “hell yeah.”