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mills-73 · 2 days

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Sex on the Rocks

When Stan and Ford are dared to take some kinda of potion they found out in the woods…they become sort of feral for you

the Pines twins x reader

TAGS: 18+, smut, p + v, sex potions n what not

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You, Stanford, and Stanley are all playing a round of truth or dare to help with your guys’ boredom at the Mystery Shack. Stan decided to close the shack early due to lack of customers, to his dismay.

“Hm…Ford! Truth or dare?” You smirk, leaning back on the raggedy couch that was a new addition to the living room.

“Truth,” he answers.

You think for a moment trying to come up with something. “What’s one thing you can’t live without?”

“My research,” Ford answers almost instantaneously.

Stanley coughs out a rough laugh from beside you, saying something about how boring that answer was. Then it’s your turn, Stanley looking you up and down with a small smile. “Truth or dare, y/n?”

“I gonna go safe and pick truth.”

Stan smirks. “What’s something we don’t know about you?”

You think for a second. “I’ve been to jail before.” Stanford gasps while Stanley looks almost prideful at you. “Shoplifted a pair of shoes I really wanted when I was seventeen.”

You guys go around like that for a few minutes until it’s your turn to ask Stanley. He picks dare. “You and Ford have to drink those small vials of liquid we found in the woods the other day.” You smirk at their disgusted faces. “You can’t back out now!”

The two brothers groan, Stanford getting up and exiting the room. He comes back a few minutes later, two vials in his hand. He hands on to Stanley and keeps the other for himself.

“Bottoms up, I guess,” Stanley scrunches his nose at the pinkish red tint of the liquid. He drinks his first, Stanford following a second after.

Their faces morph into that of distaste and you burst out laughing at them when Stanford starts gagging like a cat. Stanley just coughs but says he’s had worse. They both stare at you for a moment, probably contemplating firing you over this little antic. You smile innocently at them, but you continue playing the game until you notice they start looking a little…off.

Their faces are redder than usual, brown eyes glossy, and they seem like they can’t keep their gaze off of you anymore.

“Are you okay guys?” You ask.

They share a credulous look before turning back to you. Stanley bites his lip, looking your body up and down, his hand reaching for the pillow behind him to place on his lap. Stanford just looks at the floor, his breathing getting slightly erratic.

“I guess this is a good time to stop. You guys seem a little…sick?”

“I think it was the stuff we drank,” Stanford mutters quietly. “I don’t know what it was but…I feel…” He looks up at you, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “Fuck,” he groans. “We have a problem.”

You tilt your head. “What kind of problem?” Your eyes flicker over to Stanley again, looking a little out of it.

Stanford sighs. “I think it was a lust potion. I’ve researched them before but I’ve never—I’ve never actually drank one.”

“A lust potion??” You question, not entirely following. Gazing at the pillow covering Stanley’s lap you finally understand.

Oh my god. They’re fucking horny.

“They’re made by the gnomes. They place them in the forest for their finders to drink and when they do they become…sexually stimulated. And until they fulfill their desires they’ll be…” he stutters off, as if he doesn’t want to say it. “They’ll be aroused.”

“Oh,” you breathe. “Can’t you guys like…masturbate until it goes away?” You ask.

Stanford shakes his head. “We have to fulfill our desires. As in, we have to give in to what we really want before it can go away. What you’re suggesting won’t work.”

Before you can process what you’re about to say, your mouth moves on its own accord. “Is there anyway I can help?” Now it’s your turn to blush. They both snap their gaze to you, almost piercing your skin with the amount of heat and desire loaded behind them. “Wait, I-I didn’t—”

Your throat bobs, mouth impeccably dry. The way they’re both looking at you makes your skin feel heated, your body thrumming from the extra attention. You won’t lie, you find the twins incredibly attractive, no matter their age. But you never thought they could be so…intense like this.

The air around the three of you is tense. You can see the slight bulge in Stanford’s slacks, and you assume underneath that pillow, Stanley’s is evident as well. In a quick motion, Stanford stands, walking the short distance to where you sit on the couch. He stands in front of you, your neck tilting to meet his eyes and not look other places.

“Don’t offer unless you’re ready to pay the price, sweetheart,” Stanford whispers.

You’re a little shocked by the roughness of his voice, never hearing that him talk like that before. To your left, Stanley shifts a little closer to you, his eyes never leaving your body. You look between the two, a little overwhelmed by their predatory gazes.

“I-I mean, if it’ll help,” you whisper.

“I think it would,” Stanley finally speaks. “After all, it only goes away when you fulfill your desires, right?” Stanford nods.

The word click a little. “You guys, desire me?”

Stanford’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, tilting your head back just enough to keep your focus on him. “More than just desire, y/n.”

Stanley reaches out and caresses your thigh, swiping his thumb over your knee. You shiver at the contact, arousal beginning to pool in your gut. “I’m with him on that,” he says, leaning in slightly. “Ever since you came to work at the Shack I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Your head starts to feel lightly, the words coming out of Stanley’s mouth taking their time to process. You turn your head, mouth parted in a soft gasp. “Y-You what?”

“You heard him,” Stanford growls, making you look up at him again. “And I’m fine with sharing if he is. And of course, if you want it, too.”

You bite your lip, contemplating for a moment. You do want them, and fuck, both of them at the same time? How can you possibly say no to that? So you nod your head. “Yes…fuck. Please.”

Stanford smirks and Stanley chuckles against the skin at your neck, placing a soft kiss on the tender skin. “Then you better hold on, sweetheart.”

With a quickness that makes your head spin, they drag you to one of the bedrooms that you recognize as Stanford’s when you finally stop being so dizzy. Stanley comes up behind you, pressing his front into the small of your back just enough for you to feel his hardening length against the swell of your ass. Stanford comes back into few, standing so close that your breasts push against his chest. You get the feeling you’re going to be a complete and total wreck before the day even over.

Stanford leans in, his lips brushing over yours in a teasing like motion. As you try to connect your mouths, he smirks and moves back a little. You whine embarrassingly. With a small laugh, he finally gives in and kisses you.

Behind you, Stanley grips your hips and forces you to grind back on his clothed cock, hissing at the contact. Stanford kisses you with such passion that you can barely keep up with his pace. For two old men who knew how demanding they could be when it comes to pleasure?

You moan into Stanford’s mouth as Stanley moves his hands to your front, cupping your breasts in his palms. He kneeds them slowly, thumbs caresses over your hardening nipples. Heat explodes throughout every nerve, an ache beginning to form between your thighs as you get more and more desperate for more.

Ford kisses down your jaw and to your neck, suckling on the most sensitive parts, leaving small, red marks in his path.

“So perfect,” Stan mutters in your ear, continuing his assault on your nipples.

You moan breathlessly, grinding your hips so your against both men. You turn your head slightly, meeting Stan’s watchful gaze. Without a moments thought, you slam your lips against his, whimpering softly. Ford grasps the hem of your shirt, tugging it off, which makes you and Stan disconnect for a few short seconds, but he’s back to kissing you harshly before you can even tell him to.

Without your shirt in the way, Stan unclasps your bra, Ford slipping the straps down your shoulders so it falls to the floor, your tits in full display. Ford leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, his hand coming up to play with the other. You moan into Stan’s mouth before breaking the kiss again to rest your head back against his shoulder.

“Fuck,” you sigh. “You guys are so fucking hot.”

Ford’s tongue laps around your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. The contact makes you buck your hips forward into his cock before rocking back to rub your ass against Stan’s.

Sinking down to his knees, Ford unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down, taking your underwear with them. You step out of each leg and kick them aside, leaving you bare and vulnerable. You feel the ghost of his breath against your pussy, arching your back, begging silently for his mouth. Stan nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses where Ford left little hickeys in his wake. You feel Ford’d tongue lick a long stride against your clit and your convulse.

“She’s already so fucking wet for us. I can’t wait to make you cum all over my face, doll.”

“Please,” you beg. “I need your mouth on me.”

Ford smirks but closes his mouth around the mound of your pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit in a motion that makes your knees buckle. And you probably would have fallen if it weren’t for Stan holding you up.

Your chest heaves, moan after moan being drawn from the back of your throat. You can feel the flames engulfing your cheeks, dusting your face with a tint of red that almost matches Ford’s turtleneck. Stan whispers praises into your ear, his fingers tweaking at your nipples, adding extra pleasure that pushes you closer to the edge.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you cry out, Ford devouring you as if it’s his life mission. “Oh god! Yes! Fuck, Stanford,” you almost scream.

Ford continues his pursuit, licking and sucking on your clit in ways that drive you fucking mad, the obscene sounds of spit and your own wetness mixing with your moans to create a symphony of sin. Your hips buck, and you feel that coil in your stomach tightening faster and faster.

“Oh god,” you whimper. “I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“Cum for us, y/n.” Stanley growls into your ear. Whatever was in that potion makes them fucking feral.

At his words, the coil snaps and you explode, your orgasm wrecking your body and leaving you dizzy. Ford continues to lap at your folds until you’re whimpering and pleading for him to have mercy on you. He stands up, tongue cleaning his lips as if he’s just had a very devine meal.

“Go to the bed.”

Stan pushes you by the small of your back, turning you around to lay you down on the soft sheets of Ford’s bed. You watch them undress, Stan crawling between your legs, holding open your thighs with two very big hands and Ford coming up beside your head. And fuck are they huge, angry red tips dripping with precum.

Stanley uses the tip of his cock to slide against your folds, never entering but teasing the head as you whimper and whine. You need to be filled up and used, you want it so bad.

You turn your head towards Ford, his cock almost even with your mouth, and you know exactly what to do. Your tongue darts out, catching a drop of salty precum that threatens to drip off the tip, causing him to groan and thread all six fingers through your hair, pulling your fact closer.

“Fuck, y/n,” Ford groans, slipping the head of his cock last your lips. “Suck my cock like the good little girl you are. Can you handle that?”

You nod, taking more of him in your mouth. Suddenly you feel Stan pushing his cock inside of you in one big thrust, causing you to gasp and jerk your head forward, taking Ford’s cock to the back of your throat.

Stan groans from above you, giving you only a second to adjust before he pulls back out and thrusts his hips again. Your bodies mold together as one the sound of skin slapping echoing off the walls as he sets an almost brutal pace, his cock so deep that it presses against every sensitive spot inside of you. Your moans are muffled by the gag of Ford’s cock, the feeling of being stuffed so full exquisitely tasteful.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Stan groans, keeping up his pace. His hands hold your hips down. “Yeah..fucking take it. So. Fucking. Good.” He punctuates each word with another thrust of your hips.

From above, Ford begins to thrust his hips, fucking your throat slowly yet going so deep you almost gag at the sensation, eyes pooling with tears that threaten to fall. Your whimpers and moans are drowned out by the cock stuffed so far down your throat that you can’t think about anything else but the two older men that have you at their complete disposal.

Their grunts are deep and guttering, your body shivering with sheer pleasure. You’re close again, and if they don’t slow down anytime soon you’re doing to fall over the edge. Possibly more than once.

You try to speak but Ford only fucks your mouth harder, shutting you up quick.

Stan’s pace begins to faulter and he whispers. “So close, baby, fuck. You’re so perfect. Like you were made to take my dick like this.”

His hand comes up to tweak your nipples, and you’re a fucking goner. You practically scream around Ford’s cock, body convulsing with pleasure so hard Stan has to hold you in place. With a loud grunt, his orgasm follows right after, filling you up with cum as he rides it out. He slowly pulls out of you, feeling his cock pulse at the overstimulation, before he moves out from between your legs.

“Think you can take another cock in your pretty little pussy, doll?” Ford smirks down at you, pulling your head off of his cock, and you gasp, nodding eagerly.

“Please,” you beg him.

Ford moves to take Stan’s place, not wasting a second before he’s inside of you, fucking you fast and hard. You scream out at the overstimulation, your back arching off the bed as you try to grasp for something to hold on to. One of your hands finds the bed sheets, your other finds Stan’s hand, squeezing so hard you’re sure to leave little crescent shaped bruises.

It doesn’t take long before Ford’s hips begin to stutter, his orgasm drawing closer. You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him in, trapping him inside of you, and you can’t help but fall over the edge again with him.

Your pussy clenches around him, your mouth parted in a silent scream as you milk him for what he’s worth, and with a growl he spills inside of you.

The only sound that echoes in the room for a moment is the heavy breathing before a whimper drawls out of you as Ford pulls out. You can feel yourself gush, cum dripping out of you and onto the bed.

“Fuck,” you groan. “I’m gonna be so fucking sorry after this.”

The twins chuckle and rush to clean you up. You smile tenderly as Stan slips behind you and Ford cuddles your front.

“I think we need to find more of those potions,” you mumble softly into Ford’s chest.

The vibrations of his laugh startle you for a moment, but you settle. “Honestly, I don’t think we’ll need them. We’re never leaving this bed again.”

ty you the person who had this saved so i could repost it 🫡 didn’t meant to delete it off the page.

#smut #fanfic #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #stanley pines #stanley pines x reader

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gunsatthaphan · 10 months

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😭😭😭

#firstkhao #firstkhaotung #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #gmmtv #legit crying what kind of fond soulmate bs is this now #please 😩#they never let me live #look at him hes about to burst with pride #im done #MLC deserves all these awards so much though #also GemFourth #they did so good 🥹

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sirfrogsworth · 2 months

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How do you take a photo of time?

I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.

It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.

Several heroes emerged.

Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.

You can't forget about Flo-Jo.

And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.

Which formed... The Dream Team.

Was this fair?

Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.

So... no. It was not fair.

Though it became more fair as time went on.

But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.

But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.

He was cool as heck.

For one thing... gold shoes.

But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.

And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.

Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.

Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.

It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.

After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???

Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.

This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.

The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.

The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"

I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.

And that's when my inner nerd took over.

Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.

Why is the track white?

Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?

So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.

Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.

Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.

And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.

But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.

This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.

Only the finish line itself is actually captured.

And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.

So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?

That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.

As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.

It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.

Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.

What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?

Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.

So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.

NEAT!

Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?

I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!

Clavicles!

The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.

So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.

Two more fun facts!

The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.

The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.

They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.

And the final fun fact...

Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?

That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.

But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?

That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.

So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.

Pretty clever, Omega!

#long post #photos finish #100m dash #sprinting #track and field #noah lyles

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starkeyisthelastname · 9 months

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stepbro!rafe tricking you (being innocent) that he needs help but actually you cockwarm him and you ask him why you feel so weird on your privatparts and he just talks with you through it until he just cums inside you cause he couldn’t take it anymore

Hehe. 🤭

“Lock the door behind you.” Rafe’s voice said quietly as you patted into the bedroom.

You wondered why your step-brother wanted the door locked to watch a movie, but didn’t say anything as he always told you he knew best. Kicking off your furry slippers, you happily climbed into the bed where he was waiting.

“What movie are we watching Rafey?” You asked cutely, voice soft as you snuggled next to him. Your heavy tits pressed against his bicep as you looked up at him with curious eyes.

The ache ran straight to his cock as he glanced down at you. You were the fucking prettiest thing with your long eyelashes, full lips and gorgeous little body. He absolutely had to have you and he knew you would do anything to make him happy.

“Whatever you want sweetness.” He told you.

Your eyes widened at this as Rafe hardly ever let you pick. You eagerly grabbed the remote and began shuffling through one streaming app to another, not realizing your step-brother was getting a little impatient. The way you were wiggling around as you babbled on about how you couldn’t decide was making Rafe’s cock swell. Your tits bouncing with each little movement you made, nearly spilling out of the tiny silk tank top you wore.

Grabbing your hips, he sat you down in his lap to be still, not caring about the kitten like whine that left your mouth. “Sit still and pick the fucking movie. Yeah?” He said roughly.

You nodded with a bratty frown, as you finally picked the Cinderella Story. You snuggled your back further into Rafe’s chest, your ass resting snugly between his spread legs. He reached over to turn the lamp off, making the room dark except from the girly movie playing. Your eyes engrossed into the shit that he could care less about, as he leaned back against the pillows.

Half way through the movie, you didn’t even realize the large tip of your step-brother’s cock was poking at your entrance. You had been so focused on the screen that Rafe’s hands pulling your shorts aside hasn’t even crossed your mind.

“Rafey what are you-..” Your voice turning into a whimper as he pushed his cock into your warm cunt.

“Hush and watch your movie. You are gonna help me. Okay? You love helping your big bro don’t you?” He whispered in your ear.

He was right. You did love helping him. So you sat there and took it like a good step-sister. You tried your best to turn your attention back to the movie, all while your princess parts felt so full. Rafe had you right where he wanted. Tight little cunt fluttering around his fat length as he held you still, warming his cock in the process. He couldn’t help but let out a small groan as he had never felt anything so incredible.

“Rafey-why do you feel so weird?” Your voice shaky as you unknowingly soaked his cock.

“Shhh- sweetness. You just sit on my cock like a good girl.” The older boy told you, hands coming down to hold your waist firmly. He was embarrassed to say how close he was to bursting inside of you, your pussy squeezing his dick in vice grip.

Little moans and whimpers left between your lips as the weird sensation just kept getting more intense. You knew somewhere in your mind that this was wrong but your step-brother knew best didn’t he? You were helping him after all.

“Shit.. sweet girl keep squeezing me like that.” Rafe grunted, each time your cunt clenched around him when he would move even slightly. The pride he was losing at the edge of already cumming inside of you, made him want squeeze your throat in frustration. How dare his step-sister have such an incredible pussy that made him want bust his load?

He couldn’t hold back anymore, his hand instinctively coming to your throat to grab. You squeaked out his name, your smaller hand coming to rest on his as the warmth of something gooey shot up inside you.

“Such a good little slut..” Rafe barely whispered. “I mean helper. Such a good little helper.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron prompt #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #obx smut #obx #stepbro!rafe

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chiscaralight · 10 days

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nsfw kinich x reader. been writing a lot of kinich these days I need him plz. feral kinich !!! 🌴anon I wish I could tag u in this lol

okay but imagine kinich who can't get you out of his head all day. he's usually okay with it, you grazing over his mind constantly throughout the day but this is different. you're plaguing his mind.

so he's rushing to finish his commissions for the day to get back to you faster. he's practically running away once he's done. even ajaw is a little confused, but kinich just puts him in timeout for his own peace of mind. the only thing he's concerned about now is you.

when he bursts through your door, you're insanely confused. did he forget it just has a handle, why is he trying to break your door? you can't even ask the question though, his lips are quick and harsh on yours.

feral!kinich whose strong fingers are digging harshly into your sides as he pushes you against the wall. you can only yelp out in surprise, but he's using the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. you're moaning around the wet muscle, thighs clamping together from the action. what the hell was going on?

kinich is usually much more composed than this. he prides himself on being able to remain collected even in the most bizarre situations. so why is he's so impatient this time? he won't even let you drag him towards the couch, not to talk of your bed. he's balls deep in your mouth with his back pressed against the wall, strong hands gripping the sides of your head to fuck your face how he dims fit. you're gripping his thighs, tears welling in your eyes as his release hits the back of your throat. when he lets out a heavy sigh, he's motioning for you to get up so he can scoop you into his arms and carry you to your room.

him being so forward today might not be such a bad thing though, because you can barely speak to him. you're babbling straight nonsense as he slams into you from behind, nails digging into your hips as he hits into you over and over again. he's positioned over you, eyes sharp and watching you squirm from the lone feeling of his cock prodding your cunt. and you're noises are so sweet, he's groaning every single one, thrusts speeding up from the sheer sound. but its not enough.

"gonna flip you over. i have to see your face."

he's quick with his movements too, because you almost don't notice how quickly you're on your back. he's slinging one leg onto his shoulder before sliding back in. you can't even keep your eyes open! your head is hitting the pillows so quick, fingers gripping the sheets once his fingers come in contact with your clit. his pace is just as nasty as before, hips angling up against that sweet spot that he knows just how to hit. you swear you're seeing stars! or maybe it's just his eyes because in the back of your mind, you're hearing him tell you to look at him.

you're struggling. it's so hard to keep your eyes open, he feels so good like this. but he's drinking up every second of it. you're expression, how vulnerable you look right now. and when you whimper out his name with that sweet voice of yours? his hands are quick to find your knees, pushing the up hard as he fucks your orgasm out of you. you're convulsing under him, your entire body shaking as he rides out the last of your high.

when you come to, he's stopped, but you can still feel his hard length inside you. what, do you think he's done? oh no. it just won't be as fun if those pretty eyes aren't staring directly at him.

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #gi smut #kinich smut #kinich x reader smut #kinich x reader #gi kinich #genshin kinich #gi kinich smut #kinich

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pucksandpower · 18 days

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If I Was a Worm

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: would you still love me if I was a worm?

Max leans back on the plush leather couch, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where a football match flickers. The living room is bathed in the warm glow of evening sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. You’re curled up beside him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Max?” You murmur, breaking the comfortable silence.

He hums in response, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. The question that’s been nagging at you feels silly now that you’re about to voice it. But curiosity wins out. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Max’s hand stills. He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “A worm? Like, an actual worm?”

You nod, fighting back a smile at his bewildered expression.

He lets out a short laugh. “Where did that come from?”

“Just answer the question,” you insist, poking his side playfully.

Max runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process this unexpected turn in conversation. “I mean ... I guess? But why would you be a worm?”

You shrug, sitting up to face him properly. “It’s hypothetical, Max. Just go with it.”

He sighs, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his eyes. “Alright, fine. If you were a worm, I’d ... I’d buy you the best soil? Make sure you had plenty of leaves to eat?”

You can’t help but giggle at his attempt. “That’s sweet, but not quite what I meant.”

Max groans, throwing his head back against the couch. “I don’t know how to love a worm! What do worms even do?”

“They wiggle,” you offer helpfully, demonstrating with a wave of your hand.

He captures your wiggling hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “Okay, so you’d wiggle. And I’d ... watch you wiggle?”

You burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Max joins in, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulls you closer.

“I’m serious though,” you say once the laughter subsides. “Would you still love me? Even if I wasn’t ... me anymore?”

Max’s expression softens, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “Is that what this is really about? You’re worried I wouldn’t love you if you changed?”

You nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I know it’s silly ...”

“Hey,” Max says gently, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “It’s not silly. And to answer your question: yes, I’d still love you. Worm or not.”

“Even if I couldn’t talk to you anymore? Or hug you? Or do any of the things we do together?”

Max is quiet for a moment, considering. “I think ... I think love isn’t just about what someone can do for you. It’s about who they are, their essence. And that wouldn’t change, even if you were a worm.”

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “That’s ... actually really profound, Max.”

He grins, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I have my moments.”

“So you’d be okay with having a worm girlfriend?” You tease, lightening the mood.

Max laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, it would definitely make my life interesting. Imagine trying to explain that to the press.”

You adopt a mock-serious tone. “Max, is it true that your girlfriend is now a invertebrate?’“

He plays along, mimicking his media voice. “Yes, it’s true. But I can assure you, she’s the most beautiful earthworm you’ve ever seen.”

You both dissolve into giggles, the earlier tension completely dissipated.

“Seriously though,” Max says once you’ve caught your breath. “Where did this worm thing come from?”

You shrug, a bit embarrassed now. “I don’t know. I was just thinking about how much our lives have changed since we got together. And how they might keep changing. I guess I wanted to know if there was a limit to ... us.”

Max’s expression turns thoughtful. “I get that. Our lives are pretty crazy sometimes.”

“Understatement of the year,” you mutter.

He chuckles. “Fair enough. But you know, through all the craziness, you’re my constant. My home base. That wouldn’t change, even if you grew an exoskeleton.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Worms don’t have exoskeletons.”

“Same difference,” Max says with a dismissive wave. “The point is, I love you. All of you. Not just the parts that are convenient or easy.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat, touched by his sincerity. “Even the parts that ask weird hypothetical questions?”

“Especially those parts,” he assures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “They keep me on my toes.”

You snuggle closer to him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Thank you for humoring me.”

“Always,” Max murmurs. “Though I have to ask ... why a worm? Why not like, a cat or something?”

You laugh. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head. Plus, a cat would be too easy. You already like cats.”

“True,” he concedes. “But at least a cat could watch races with me. What would a worm do all day?”

You pretend to consider this seriously. “Worm things. Soil aeration. Composting.”

Max nods solemnly. “Ah yes, very important worm business.”

“Hey, don’t mock my hypothetical worm life,” you protest, poking his chest. “I’d be a very accomplished worm, I’ll have you know.”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare question your worm credentials.”

You both fall silent for a moment, the absurdity of the conversation sinking in.

“We’re ridiculous, aren’t we?” You say finally, unable to keep the smile off your face.

Max grins. “Completely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You lean in to kiss him, feeling a rush of affection for this man who can make even the silliest conversations feel meaningful.

As you pull away, Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “You know, if you really want to be a worm, I could always bury you in the garden ...”

You gasp in mock outrage. “Max Verstappen, don’t you dare!”

He laughs, pulling you closer. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Though it might be fun to see you wiggle ...”

You swat his arm playfully. “Keep it up and you’ll be the one sleeping in the garden tonight.”

Max’s expression turns serious, though there’s still a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You know, all this worm talk has got me thinking ...”

“Oh?” You say, curious about where he’s going with this.

He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. I’ve realized something important.”

You wait, eyebrow raised expectantly.

“If you were a worm,” Max says slowly, building suspense, “you’d be the prettiest worm in the world.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest to muffle your laughter. “That was terrible.”

“But true,” he insists, chuckling. “You’d leave all the other worms in the dust. Or ... soil, I guess.”

You look up at him, shaking your head fondly. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” Max says confidently.

And as you gaze into his warm, playful eyes, you can’t deny it. You do love it. You love him, in all his goofy, sweet, sometimes infuriating glory.

“Yeah,” you admit softly. “I really do.”

Max’s expression softens, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I love you. Worm or human or anything in between.”

You lean into his touch, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over you. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he says firmly. “Though I have to admit, I’m pretty fond of this current version of you.”

You smile, your earlier insecurities fading away in the warmth of his gaze. “Me too. I think I’ll stick with being human for now.”

“Good choice,” Max murmurs, pulling you in for another kiss. “Though I bet you’d make a cute worm.”

1K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 19 days

Text

the grid reacts: getting caught making out!

featuring: Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris

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

Oscar Piastri

It was just meant to be a small peck, but then he wrapped his arms around you, and it escalated. It had all started with a tiny peck, just before you left his driver’s room to leave him time alone before the race, but Oscar had very persuasive lips (and a very persuasive tongue). He lifted you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he deepened the kiss, holding you impossibly close. Then he sat down on his physio table, making you straddle him as you got as turned on as he was. You two had time, right? His hands grabbed anywhere and everywhere, exploring your body, despite knowing it so well. You whimpered into his mouth as he squeezed your ass, making you jolt forward. He smirked as you pulled back, throwing him a look of annoyance.

“Let me kiss it better?” he smirked and you playfully hit his chest, and he pulled you back in for another kiss. "I love you."

“Oscar! We’ve been calling you for-” Lando’s voice rang out as you scrambled to get off of him, but Lando had already seen. You buried your head in your hands, embarrassed and trying not to laugh as Oscar pulled his cap off of his head and covered his bulge. Lando burst out laughing, nearly falling to the floor as he realised what he’d walked in on, and you got up to leave, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and giving Lando a kick on your way out.

You: We are never doing that again. Top 10 most embarrassing moments of my life.

Oscar: Ok WatchMojo.

You: Sassy man apocalypse.

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

Charles Leclerc

Charles was a horny man after races. No matter how tired he was, he had to have you. That’s how you ended up in his driver’s room with his lips on yours. He was intoxicating. His sounds, his lips, his tongue. Everything.

“Mon coeur,” he bit down softly on your collarbone. “Tu es trop belle pour être vraie-” (you are too beautiful to be true)

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me Charles,” you said, out of breath. He had a habit of trying to take things slowly, especially in risky places. You were almost sure he had a thing for doing it in public. He smirked down at you and pressed his lips to your again, using one hand to start to undo your trousers.

Suddenly the door flew open and you both sat up, hitting your head off of the other’s head, both of you groaning out in pain.

“Connerie,” he hissed, holding his forehead.

“Motherfuck!” you groaned as Arthur stared at the two of you dumbfounded, his cheeks red.

“I’ll just… come back later,” he said, then closed the door behind him.

“We’ve just traumatised your little brother,” you sighed, hiding your face in the nape of his neck.

“He will survive,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Too bad my pride didn’t,” you added, making him laugh. God, you loved his laugh.

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

Daniel Riccardo

He was a slick bastard. One ‘I need help with my suit babe’ and there you were in his driver’s room, your shirt being pulled off and new hickies being left over the fading ones. It had been 2 weeks since you’d seen Daniel, too busy to come to the last race, and then you were travelling for a friend’s wedding. Now you were back, and Daniel was planning on showing you just how much he missed you, 40 minutes before the race started, aka, when he was already supposed to be in the damn car.

“Daniel, we should stop just-” You started, thinking about someone walking in on you two. Sadly RB didn’t give their driver’s fucking locks on their doors, probably because of Baku 2018… yeah, you and Daniel weren’t exactly quiet, and he wasn’t exactly happy after that race. “Slow down.”

He pulled back, smirking up at you. “Baby, come on, we have a bunch of time, and I haven’t seen you in 2 whole weeks, who’s going to walk in?”

You nodded and pressed your lips to his again, allowing your conscience to fall away with the way he was kissing you. Kissing Daniel was like nothing else. Everything else fell away, there was only him.

But who would walk in? Yuki, probably.

“Daniel- WOAH! LOCK THE DOOR!” he screamed, alerting the entire motorhome of your actions. You quickly pulled your shirt back over your head as he ran out. As Daniel laughed for a solid minute, you tried to get over your loss of dignity. Yuki sure did make things interesting.

“I have no lock arsehole!” Daniel laughed.

“You do! It’s the weird thing above the handle!” One of the mechanics shouted back. You walked over to the door, turning the thing above the handle, and the door locked. Daniel laughed even harder.

Once you finally stopped Daniel from laughing, you both walked out to the whole team clapping and whooping.

Yeah, not your finest moment.

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

George Russell

His stupid dumb pretty face. He just looked so kissable, and you couldn’t help yourself. He was covered in champagne, and he was supposed to be using these 5 minutes to shower and change, but you had other plans. You ran him to his driver’s room, started kissing him, and didn’t stop. He didn’t seem to mind, even if it meant he wouldn’t get to shower and he’d just be champagne-y all night. He pushed you against the wall, his hands on your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair. His soft, gorgeous hair.

His hands travelled up, taking your top with them and you smirked.

“Getting handsy?” You smirked.

“Never,” he shook his head and pulled your top off, beginning his assault on your neck.

“George! Get out of the fucking shower, you can condition later- OH FUCK OFF!” Aleix, his trainer shouted and ran back out the door. George did the gentlemanly thing and covered you, but not without laughter.

“George!” you hissed as he laughed. “Give me my top!”

He handed you your top and quickly changed into a new suit, spraying himself in deodorant. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek with one last chuckle. “It's a good story for the grandkids,” he shrugged, leaving you with a smile as he went off to do interviews.

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

Alex Albon

Alex had finished in the points again, and you were just so proud of him. Since he’d gotten out of the car you’d kissed him many a thousand times, but he wasn’t complaining. Actually he’d started making out with you about 3 minutes ago, and something in his kisses told you he wasn’t planning on stopping.

“Your mom will be here any minute,” you reminded him, pulling away. He rolled his eyes.

“Did you seriously just mention my mom while I had a semi?”

“Had?”

“You mentioned my mom!”

You chuckled and pressed another kiss to his perfect lips. He pulled you back in, kissing you deeply as his hands ran through your hair, messing it up, but you didn’t care. It felt too good, he felt too good. He nipped at your lips, coaxing them open so he could push his tongue into your mouth. His hands slowly went further down, dangerously close to where your top zipped.

“Alex,” You warned, breathless.

He smirked up at you. “For a minute?”

“Alex-”

“Alex? Are you in here?” George asked, walking in. The Brit was stopped in his tracks when he saw you on his lap, hiding your face in his neck as you tried to contain your embarrassment. He hadn’t even seen anything, but your cheek heated and you wanted the floor to swallow you up. “Oh, sorry for cockblocking, chat later.”

You both started laughing when he left.

“We need to start locking the door,” he sighed.

“I think I’m in shock, I thought that was your mom!” you cried, your breath finally going back to normal as Alex laughed at you.

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

Lewis Hamilton

It wasn’t fair how good he looked in his media day outfits, and he knew it too. He knew you’d pull him to the side and tell him to meet you in his driver’s room, he knew he’d come, and he knew he’d get to fuck you.

So there you were, in his driver’s room, his lips on yours as you both desperately pulled each other’s clothes off.

Too bad you forgot to lock the door.

“Lewis have you- HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK MY EYES!” Lando immediately covered his eyes, turning around as you dressed yourselves. Did you feel guilty? Yes. Did you care at all? Not really. As soon as he left, would you two continue? Probably. “HAVE SOME SHAME AND HUMILITY PLEASE?”

Lewis laughed. “What do you need now?”

“Bleach for my eyes, maybe!” Lando’s voice cracked and he turned back, his cheeks red. “I need an extra ice pack if you have one.”

Lewis nodded and got one of his ice packs out of the freezer in the corner of his room. “Here.”

Lando took it and left without another word. You looked at Lewis, shaking your head.

“I thought you locked the door,” you smirked, allowing him to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss up your neck.

“That’s funny, I thought you did,” he smirked.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you whispered.

“I don’t really care.”

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

Max Verstappen

He’d won (again), and he was horny afterwards (again). As soon as he was done with the podium and the main interviews, he ran to his driver’s room and called you to meet him there, needing some ‘support’.

“Max,” you hissed as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, kissing down your neck.

“Yes?” he answered innocently, pressing his lips to yours again.

“You have interviews-”

“Fuck the media,” he whispered. “I want you.”

“Max this is a bad idea-”

Just then, the door swung open to reveal Daniel, holding a camera.

“You two need to keep it down, we can hear you down at RB!” he laughed as MAx started blushing, pushing his friend out of the room. They fought for a moment, but Daniel eventually left you two alone. Max sat beside you, letting you lean into him.

“He’s going to post that, isn’t he?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You’d never have a day of peace with him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

Lando Norris

He was a sly bitch. It started as small pecks on your neck and the top of your head, then it was kisses on the lips, and now he had his tongue down your throat as you ground down on him, even though you both knew he was needed elsewhere.

"That's it," he whispered, loosing himself in the feeling of the both of you. "Feels so good."

You nodded, in pure ecstasy as you felt his hands and lips on you. "So good Lan."

His hands pulled you closer (if that was even possible) and you smiled into the kiss. This was the perfect moment-

"LAN!" Zak brown's voice pulled you both out of it, and you scrambled to get up.

Lando sighed as you left his lap and groaned out a simple "What?"

"We need you for a marketing thing, come on, chop chop!" Zak was as oblivious and cheery as ever and you could barely contain your laughter at Lando's 'annoyed teenager' face, as you and Oscar had started calling it.

"Bye baby," you pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he fought back the urge to ignore his duties and just go back to the hotel and spend the rest of the day with you.

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

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

1K notes · View notes

br0kenangel · 1 month

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦.

Aegon was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his baby sister in front of him. She was propped up on a small cushion, her chubby hands grasping at the air as she babbled away happily, her violet eyes sparkling.

“Come on,” Aegon coaxed, his voice filled with determination as he leaned closer to her. “Say my name, alright? Say ‘Aegon.’ Aeeegon.”

The baby girl looked up at him, her expression curious. She blinked slowly, her little mouth forming a small “O” as she tried to mimic him. Aegon’s heart swelled with anticipation.

“Go on,” he encouraged, his smile widening. “Aeeegon.”

She opened her mouth and made a sound—a tiny, excited babble that was nowhere close to his name. “Da-da!” she exclaimed proudly, her face lighting up with a giggle.

Aegon’s smile faltered, and he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “No, not ‘da-da,’” he said, trying to keep his patience. “Aegon. Aaaeeeegon.”

But his sister only responded with more giggles, clearly finding her own attempts at speech much more amusing than her brother’s frustration. She clapped her hands together, delighted by the sound she’d made, and Aegon could only groan in response.

“Why won’t you say my name?” he muttered, more to himself than to her. He tried again, leaning in closer. “Aegon. Aaaeeegon.”

“Da-da!” she squealed again, this time louder, as if she were very pleased with herself.

Aegon’s frustration was starting to build, and he was about to try again when the door to the nursery creaked open. He glanced up to see Aemond standing there, his silver hair slightly tousled from whatever adventure he’d been on earlier. Aemond tilted his head, his one good eye curious as he took in the scene before him.

“What are you doing?” Aemond asked, his voice soft as he walked into the room.

Aegon quickly straightened up, a hint of embarrassment in his expression. “Nothing,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Just… trying to teach her something.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, he walked over and sat down in front of their sister, smiling at her with that rare, gentle look he only ever seemed to have around her. She immediately reached out to him, her chubby arms waving excitedly.

“Hello, little one,” Aemond said softly, his voice filled with warmth.

And then, to Aegon’s utter shock, their sister opened her mouth and made a sound—“Amon!” It wasn’t perfect, but it was unmistakably his name, in her own very baby way. She grinned widely, as if proud of herself.

Aemond’s eye widened in surprise, a look of pride spreading across his face as he turned to Aegon. “Did you hear that? She said my name!” he said, unable to hide the delight in his voice.

Aegon’s mouth fell open, disbelief written all over his face. “She said your name?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t quite believe it. He had been trying for ages, and here Aemond comes in and she says his name just like that?

Aemond nodded, a small, smug smile on his lips. “Looks like she likes me better,” he teased lightly.

Aegon’s initial shock quickly gave way to a pang of jealousy. Determined not to be outdone, he gently lifted his sister into his lap, turning her to face him directly. “Alright, now it’s my turn,” he said with renewed determination. “Say my name. Aegon. Aaaeeegon.”

But instead of trying to repeat him, she just looked up at him with wide eyes, and then—she burst into a fit of giggles. Aemond, still sitting beside them, joined in, chuckling at the whole situation.

Aegon’s shoulders slumped again, this time in defeat. He looked down, his earlier excitement draining away. “Why won’t you say my name?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with sadness. “I’m your brother too…”

Just as he was about to give up, he felt a tiny, soft hand patting his head. He looked up, and there she was, her little face full of concentration as she tried to mimic his name once more. “Ae—” she began, her voice tiny and halting. “Ae…gon.”

Aegon’s eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face as joy and pride flooded his chest. “You did it!” he exclaimed, his earlier sadness completely forgotten. “You said my name!”

Aemond watched the scene unfold, a gentle smile on his lips as he saw the happiness on Aegon’s face. He wasn’t jealous—he was just glad that their sister had finally said Aegon’s name, even if it took a little longer.

Their sister, clearly pleased with herself, clapped her hands again, giggling at the reaction she got from her brothers. Aegon, still beaming, looked at Aemond, and for a moment, they both just smiled at each other, all traces of their earlier rivalry gone.

In that moment, the three of them were just happy and content in each other’s company. The sound of their sister’s giggles filled the room, her tiny voice echoing with the names of her two big brothers—names.

Part 1 ♡ Part 3

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

#🍥ㅤ┊ㅤ𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ˳ ㅤ ֹㅤ ꯭ ꯭ ̶ ̶꯭۫ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ 𔓕ㅤ 𓈒ㅤ֗#ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤ 𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏#hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #hotd aegon #king aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon fanfic #aegon x reader x aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fluff #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aegon ii targaryen x y/n #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen x you #targaryen reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader #hotd x reader

1K notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 3 months

Text

Duty and desire (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x niece • wife female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, angst, praise kink activated, lactation kink, fluff ]

[ description: An incident between her husband and their sons causes her uncle to completely break down. She decides to show him how deep her feelings are towards him and to comfort him. A heartbroken, vulnerable, infatuated Aemond in need of simple tenderness. ]

Author’s note: The events of this oneshot are part of the canon of The Fall from the Heavens series and feature the same characters. I couldn't sleep and that's how I mentally coped with what I saw in the second episode of the second season. You're welcome, lol. If you still didn't watch it, wait with reading it (if you don't like any kind of spoilers). It can be read as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

He had returned to their chamber earlier, tense and visibly frustrated despite the fact that he usually spent that part of the day sparring with their sons, training them in the wielding of the sword.

She smiled at him from above her book, watching as he involuntarily looked into the cradle where Visenya slept peacefully.

The birth of their first daughter was joyous news for the entire kingdom, including them.

"So early?" She asked, spreading out comfortably in her chair, curious about this change of plans. Her uncle only pursed his lips at her words, walking over to the table where she sat and reached for a cup, into which he poured himself a little wine.

He remained silent.

A bad sign.

"What's happened?" She asked immediately, seeing that hundreds of thoughts were currently running through his mind, which if they did not find an outlet would eventually explode in the form of his fury.

He took a few deep sips from his goblet without looking at her, setting it down with a loud clink of steel on the table.

"Viserys and Aegon have suggested that Ser Robert should be the one to train them today. They apparently want to become archers." He said with a sneer and anger that startled her. She swallowed hard, closing the book, understanding full well that his words were only the tip of what he was really thinking about.

"In your presence they always feel they have to prove themselves. They're afraid of being ridiculed in front of you. Maybe it's…"

"At their age I dreamt of my father doing for me what I do for them. This is our time together." He growled, looking out of the corner of his eye into the area where she sat, but not directly at her, immersed in his thoughts, memories and regrets.

"I know." She whispered and her words, something about the way she said them made his lip tremble, made him lower his head in shame and cover his face with his hand, drawing in air loudly.

"They are terrified at the sight of me. Both of them. They don't love me, they just fear me. Their own father." He mouthed, his quivering voice betraying that although he tried to control himself, something about the thought had broken him.

She stood up from her seat, shaking her head, coming up to him quickly, wanting to touch his arm with her hand, but he moved away and turned his head, not wanting her to see what was happening to him.

"If you could hear with what pride and admiration they speak of you when you are not there. They so desperately want to please you." She muttered in pain, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he might have believed he was a bad father, when they both knew how hard he tried.

"To please me? My sons, they live to please me? And if they don't then what will happen to them? Hm?" He asked and fell silent, looking at her at last, his eye red with grief and despair, his face simultaneously red and pale with emotion, his lips parted in a heavy breath.

He covered his eyes with his hand as he burst into silent sobs, as if he had not stifled the thought for a day or a month, but for years, ever since their first son had been born.

She looked at him in disbelief, stunned, at the same time hurt and saddened by his words, by the thought of how he judged and perceived himself.

"Looking into my eyes do you see anything other than love?" She asked, renewing her attempt, taking a step towards him, and this time he didn't pushed her away, looking at her uncertainly.

"– it's something else –" He whispered.

"– how can it be? – do you think I would love a man who is a bad father to my children? –" She asked further, and he swallowed hard, trying to calm his breathing, his cheeks red from tears.

"– stop it –" He said and turned away, wiping his face, walking to the other side of the room, embarrassed and ashamed of his weakness.

"– sit down on the bed, husband – I want to explain a few things to you –" She finally said.

He sighed heavily and did as she asked, making room beside himself, looking down at his hands, heartbroken. She, however, walked up to him and did not sit next to him, but on his lap, surprising him by taking his warm, red face in her hands, stroking his moist skin with her thumbs.

For a moment she simply looked at him, all helpless and vulnerable, feeling the heat in her chest.

"– you're defending our family – you're the rock that protects us – you have to show strength – be determined – and that's hard when you're king and father at the same time – the burden of the crown is great and you know it – you're trying to prepare them for it –" She whispered, with each successive word placing kisses on his red face: on his forehead, his temple, his eyebrows, his eyelid, his cheekbone, his lips, his jaw.

She felt his hands involuntarily rise to her waist, stroking her through the material of her gown.

"– so why don't they understand this? – why do they push me away? –" He muttered, focusing his gaze on her full, plump lips, his manhood hidden in his breeches pulsed softly in a natural reaction to her closeness.

"– because they are still children – children who need their father to love them no matter what – a father who will sometimes let them go their own way –" She said softly, in a gentle, light motion untying the black ribbon at the back of his head, making the front strands of his silver hair fall over his shoulders.

"– I just want to spend time with them like a father with his sons – I want them to need me –" He whispered, and she nodded, letting his broad hand move her hip closer, making her body press against his.

"– I know, my husband – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered and heard him draw in the air loudly, surprised, his erection pulsed hard between her thighs.

She licked her lips, wondering if he was aroused by what he was hearing.

"– my husband is so good to me –" She gasped softly, letting their lips join in hot, sticky, lazy kisses, making wonderful heat surge through her body. "– my sweet friend – my sweet boy –"

She shuddered as his fingers tightened on the material of her gown, his throat leaving a sound she had never heard before.

He moaned.

Not the way he usually did, low and deep, when it was on the verge of panting, but high, the way she did when he gave her sweet pleasure.

Their fingers tightened on their bodies, letting their mouths find each other in greedy, violent, deep kisses – his cock between her thighs swelled all over and pulsed, hot, betraying that he was now completely ready to possess her.

"– I love you – please –" He muttered, forcibly ripping her gown off her shoulders, exposing her naked breasts, all swollen with milk. Something like a sigh of delight and relief left his throat as he sank his face into her sternum, his thumbs stroking and teasing her nipples hard from the cold.

She moaned as she tilted her head back, untying the material of his breeches, feeling the wonderful, pleasurable wetness between her thighs, proving that she was ready to receive him deep inside her.

"– my sweet husband deserve to be soothed – doesn't he? – to feel his beloved wife – how warm she is – how wet she is –" She whispered, cupping his swollen, quivering erection in her palm, feeling how incredibly hard it was, its tip thick and smooth, dripping with his moisture.

"– yes –" He mumbled in shame, directing one of her breasts to his face, holding it in his hand, finding her nipple with his mouth, beginning to suck it loudly along with her milk as she guided the head of his cock against her pulsing slit.

"– ah – my husband is so hard for me – makes me feel so fucking good – so, so big –" She cooed, sinking slowly onto his manhood only to lift herself on it with a loud click of her wetness, opening her thirsty, fleshy cunt again and again on his long, throbbing erection.

"– f-fuck –" He exhaled, embarrassed, imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, clearly aroused by what she was saying and how she was behaving, needing her affection, her acceptance, her closeness, everything he couldn't ask of anyone else outside the door of their chamber.

"– it's all yours, my dearest – I can ride you all night – you'll fill me with your seed as many times as I need, won't you? –" She gasped, and he groaned loudly into the skin of her breasts, clamping his hot hands on her hips, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow, panting and quivering along with her.

She wasn't sure she had ever experienced a similar orgasm, so overpowering, hot, soothing, delightful.

"– f-fuck – f-fuck, Aemond, yes –" She whimpered, throwing her head back as she felt his body convulse, his warm seed filling her womb wit his low moans of pleasure.

He released her nipple from his mouth, panting heavily, snuggling his cheek into her chest, letting her arms embrace him in a tight grip, her lips placing tender, hot kisses on his hair.

"– forgive me – I'm ashamed – I –"

"– you are my husband – let me give you relief when you need it –" She whispered, combing her fingers through his long hair.

"– but – it was –"

"– a husband can show tenderness and understanding to his wife, but a wife to her husband cannot? –" She asked in pain, and he swallowed hard, letting out a loud, shuddering breath.

"– it won't happen again –" He muttered, needing, apparently, for her to tell that lie so he could stop thinking about how weak he was, how he needed it, how pleasant it was.

That he would beg in his mind for more.

More of her tenderness.

More of her praise.

More of her love.

"– as you wish –"

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draconic-desire · 5 months

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💥 Take My Whiskey Neat 💥

Yandere Boothill x Reader

Again and again, you find a way to escape, and every time ends with you peering down the barrel of a gun.

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, forced relationship and captivity, implied kidnapping, some suggestive content but mostly sfw. Mild spoilers for his background story; I want to write him both as a super attentive and protective guy but also crazy for you???

You’ve become all too familiar with the sensation of a gun being pointed to your forehead.

“Aw, darlin’, why the long face? Took me two whole days to find ya this round! You should be proud’a yerself. I dare say our time together has taught you well,” he concludes with a wink.

Somehow, his praise feels more like a taunt.

That’s because it is. Obviously you never had a chance at escaping from him, a Galaxy Ranger with a bounty on his head worth more than your life a hundred times over. He was born and raised to hunt, to track, to kill. You’re just the unlucky target.

He leans the gun ever so slightly closer to you, mere inches before it can graze your skin, and waits for your response. Although you know he won’t pull the trigger, the sight of the 9 millimeter colt aimed directly between your eyes still sends goose flesh skittering down your arms.

You grit your teeth and pin him with a withering glare. The last thing you’ll relinquish is your pride—you’re not intimidated by him, and it is impressive that you evaded him for so long, relatively speaking. Your other escape attempts lasted mere hours.

Unfortunately, the fact that the Ranger has always traveled alone doesn’t help your chances—especially when lately, his only occupation has been you.

“What, no clap back today? No, ‘fudge you, ya son of a nice lady’ or ‘fork you, shirtbaggin’ bootlicker’? I’ve gotten so used to yer colorful language that I’m almost disappointed!” Boothill tilts the gun and juts his hips, his bullseye gaze locked on your own.

Ignoring the subtle look of longing, of hurt, within their depths is getting harder and harder. He’s superb at hiding it behind jokes and attempted curses, but you know that look. He’s clinging to you after all that’s been taken from him, seeking love after it was destroyed in flames. If only he still held onto his human emotions and didn’t rely on that neuro chip of his; then he’d know that what he’s showing you isn’t love, but obsession.

You wish you had never extended your kindness to him that fateful day, when he’d burst into your home, sparks flying and wires exposed. One of his arms was barely attached, completely torn through with bullet holes. A shootout, he’d said, and he’d caught wind of a handy ‘machine doctor’—a mechanic, you’d corrected him—in town who could fix him right up.

It had taken a full two weeks for you to get him back up and running functionally. Two weeks of evading IPC grunts knocking on your door in search of him, two weeks of tolerating (and fine, maybe even enjoying) his crude jokes, and two weeks of stories over a glass of whiskey, about your hope to one day travel among the stars and his of finding a companion to do so with.

That’s when he’d seemed the most human. Voice tinged with sorrow, yes, but lips curved into a morose smile, eyes looking up at the stars. Reminiscing about when he was still fully human, nothing but a cowboy on a seemingly insignificant planet, surrounded by his adopted parents and siblings, and even that little girl whom he never got to see grow up.

After he’d shared his story, you’d felt the sudden urge to be close to him. Without thinking, you’d brought your hand up to his cheek, wiping an invisible tear despite the fact that he lost his tear ducts long ago.

He’d sucked in a breath and gone deadly still; thinking you misjudged the situation and overstepped a boundary, you’d quickly started to jerk your hand back, only for him to lock it firmly against his face with his metal palm.

His voice, normally loud and clear through the synthesized distortion, had been quiet, low, wavering. “I—please, don’t stop. That feels…nice.”

You were sad to see him go after those two weeks. You honestly expected to never see him again—he was a Galaxy Ranger, after all, the definition of a lone wolf—but to your surprise, his visits didn’t end there. He kept returning again and again, and not just for repairs. Sometimes he’d bring you gifts or tell you stories of his hunt, and you’d cherish those moments when the galaxy felt just a bit less lonely with him.

Then the visits started to increase in their frequency—and intensity. He’d show up while you were working with a client and brazenly threaten them to leave so he could occupy your time instead, or he’d appear on your doorstep in the middle of the night with your favorite bottle of liquor, winking at the sight of your embarrassed form, still in your nightclothes. Your world suddenly seemed to revolve around the gunslinging cyborg.

You’d had to put your foot down—as much as you did enjoy his company, you wouldn’t allow him to interfere with your career. You’d worked hard to gain your skills, and even though you were barely scraping by and living in a tiny, modest home by yourself, you were still proud of what you’d achieved on your own.

His initial reaction was an uncharacteristic and frightening bout of silence, his pupils blown wide, locked onto yours. Just as quickly, his typical smirk returned as he laughed it off. “Just watch out, lil cutie, ‘cause I know you’ll be missin’ me soon.”

Apparently, soon was imminent, immediate. You were pouring yourself a drink after a long week of work when he finally kicked down your door and announced you’d be coming with him.

“I’ve been waiting a long while now to claim you, darlin’.”

“And if I refuse?”

That was the first time you witnessed his gun trained on you.

Now, Boothill drags you along everywhere, hopping from one planet or system to the next, living together as nomads. What you believed to be a serendipitous friendship, he thought was the start of your romance and life together.

It would be thrilling in any other circumstance, treading the path of The Hunt, evading the law, tracking down the IPC members who destroyed his family…except the cyborg transferred that need to protect, to save someone, onto you. You have no choice but to be his now, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go.

“You just want to hear me curse because you can’t,” you growl. What a stupid argument to be having with a pistol to your head. Yet you can’t help but siphon all of your anger into this dumb little game of cat and mouse, of shark and minnow, of hunter and bird.

He forgets you’re not the only one armed.

You flash him the most vulgar gesture you can make. “Go fuck yourself, Boothill.”

The cowboy throws his head back in a laugh. “Haha! There she is. Wild as a newborn colt.” He grins, flashing those shark teeth you’d groan to loathe. You’ve lost count of the number of puncture marks and scars they’ve littered across your flesh.

That’s something he can’t seem to get enough of—the feel of your warm, organic, human skin against his cold, steel shell.

“Lan shoot me with an arrow, do you ever shut the fuck up?” you grumble, looking up as if the Aeon will give you an answer.

“Think ya already know the answer to that,” he replies, lowering his weapon to sling his opposite arm around your shoulders. The gun hangs languidly from his other hand, as if he’s not the deadliest shot in the galaxy.

His breath brushes your neck as he leans in and nips at your ear. “Now, how ‘bout we take this back home, eh cutie? Two days without you has got me pretty…” His voice drops an octave. “…pent up, if ya know what I mean.”

The tooth marks along your skin flare. Oh, you know all too well.

~*~

Trying to find the solution to your imprisonment at the bottom of a bottle seems like a really clever idea, at least until the room starts spinning.

The empty glass cracks against the wooden table again as brown liquor burns down your throat. What did he call it? Rocket fuel? Damn right, and you’d lost count of the number of shots you’d taken.

Boothill’s normal smirk is contorted into a small frown. “Darlin’, I know it’s been a long couple’a days away for you, but I think we should retire the whiskey for the time being—”

“Shyut up!” you slur, jabbing a finger at the Ranger, your neck still throbbing from all the love bites and hickeys he’d given you. “Thiz is your fault.”

He reaches for the bottle, but you snatch it away and instead start to take pulls directly from it. A deep sigh reverberates behind you as you stand and begin to spin around, hands extended. “Aren’t we celebrating you catching me again? You got what you wanted, you…you mudder…fuuuu…” You sway and just barely catch yourself before you tumble—wait, no, that’s him steadying your shoulders.

“(Y/n).” You blink out of your haze momentarily; only on rare occasions does he use your name and not things like darling or cutie. His face is controlled, mouth tilted downward. “Put the bottle down. I know the feelin’ of wanting to drown in liquor, but it ain’t right.”

“I’m only like this because you took me from my life!”

He bares his teeth, and you know you hit a nerve. “That little shack you called a home? Was that really livin’? All those nights we talked, you said how you wanted grand adventure and risk! To travel and see the stars! To be with me!”

“I didn’t ask for you to put me in a moving cage,” you spit back, trying to shake out of his iron-clad grip. “But you never asked what I wanted, did you?”

“Why’s this all so hard for you to accept?” One hand moves to grab your chin, tilting your face towards his tall form. “It could be just us, ridin’ through the galaxy for all time.” His lips brush lightly against your own, and you feel a tinge of warmth run down your spine. “Just be mine.”

In your drunken stupor, your anger morphs into something else, something more carnal. He wants to be the predator? Well, even the hunted fight back sometimes.

The bottle drops from your hand, shattering against the floor, as you hook an arm around his neck and kiss him fervently, your tongue running along the edges of his pointed canines.

Before he can kiss you back, you pull away, wiping the back of your mouth with your forearm. “That’s what could have been if you hadn’t kidnapped me. If you’d asked me first.” Skipping over the remnants of the whiskey bottle, you flip him the finger over your shoulder as you walk away. “Too bad that’s all you’ll get. Fork you, Boothill.”

As soon as you leave the room, Boothill raises a metal digit to his lips, savoring the sensation of your warm mouth against his. So that’s what your willing kiss feels like. The true passion he knows is hidden deep in your soul, buried beneath the dirt like an unmarked grave. He releases a breathy laugh.

Well fork him sideways, but he wants more.

Taking his hat off, he sets it on the table and moves to pour himself a glass of sherry. He’s nearly positive he’ll find you passed out in bed if he goes to you now, and knows he shouldn’t, can’t be in the same room with you when his self control is so near to breaking. Better to let you sleep it off and tease you about the kiss in the morning.

Boothill kicks his feet up and takes a long sip. So, it turns out your drunken self may actually be harboring some attraction for him. Yeah, he can use that.

“I’ll have you someday,” he whispers, a promise to both you and himself. “Whiskey ain’t the only thing that’ll be on your lips, darlin’.”

#yandere boothill #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere escape #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yanderecore #yandere male #yandere #yancore #honkai star rail #hsr #Boothill

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dr-demi-bee · 2 months

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Gale's act 1 romance is just so good. The more I think about Gale the more I like it. It shows off so many parts of his character - how integral magic is to him, his love of teaching, his smugness, his appreciation for your friendship... But also his vulnerability. Before you picture something more - he looks pleased. Happy to share a moment with you as friends. (During the party he even expresses hoping that he can consider you a true friend. A self-professed rarity for him.)

At the same time he's making this face though, he moves closer to you. Whether he would acknowledge it or not, Gale clearly does seek out that intimacy.

His earnest surprise after pulls at my heart strings. He genuinely wanted to find a safe way to connect. He had no expectations of you returning his feelings (hence, embarrassment - at being perceived, or at not considering your feelings, perhaps.).

Followed by a resigned shoulder slump and a face of desperate yearning... 🥺 It's almost the same pouty face he gives you when he confesses he loves you.

Then, genuine thrill - elation - at the very idea of it! Gale has a firm grip on what he shares with us here - he's still an archmage level wizard (even nerfed), and that's a skill he would have. (It's probably why we don't ever accidentally connect tadpoles with Gale). He chooses after his initial surprise to share a feeling of not just joy but a joy with pride and optimism. He turns *towards* you - communicating not just elation but desire in his expression.

But he immediately follows this with an 'oh shit, stop thinking about it' look and a long shake of the head to clear the thought(s) away 😭 (Because trepidation here isn't about kissing you - it's about the orb.)

But he's quick to reassure you - not just because he knows you wouldn't be able to hide your thoughts from him (not an option - even picturing nothing carries a feeling with it) . "But it is a pleasant image, to be sure." And then he hits you with a confirmation of his desire and approval. "Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."

He hadn't considered it a possibility, but gods be damned, you've given him the first burst of hope and confidence he's had in a while. The first time in months he's felt wanted. His posture straightens with the confidence boost. He turns fully to you and clearly wants to bask in the moment - to connect with you.

But then the Weave evaporates. Whatever the reason may be, Gale didn't do it. He didn't expect it. Clearly. He posture collapses and he whimpers like it physically hurt.

The narration makes it clear how jarring the connection ending feels to us (cold and lonesome) - how must it feel for poor Gale? He hasn't had such a strong connection with someone in ages. Who knows how long since it was with another mortal (if ever)? We know from later stages of his romance and from communication with Gale that physical touch is an integral part of his expression of love and connection. And with the orb he can't have it. The loss of intimacy and connection here hurts.

"How easily things slip away from us." How easily they are lost. Anyway go hug your wizard.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #galemance #bg3 #gale x tav #act 1 romance #a moment in the weave #ridiculously pretty man needs to be loved #in my feels #bg3 meta #my wrtitng

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futurewdclandonorris · 6 months

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Lipstick Stamps | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

“Ready soon, love?” Lando peeked his head in your shared bedroom.

You glanced up from your vanity table and smiled at him. “Almost there, I just need a few more minutes. Could you help me zip up my dress, though?”

You turned around, the ocean blue fabric flowing against your skin as Lando made his way towards you. His strong hands gently pulled the zipper up, the sound echoing through the room.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You look stunning, as always.” and kissed the back of your neck.

You blushed at his words and turned to face him. “Thank you. I just need to apply my lipstick and then we can get going.”

Lando watched in awe as you carefully applied the ruby red lipstick, a color that went along with your dress perfectly. His heart swelled with pride, knowing he was the luckiest man alive to have you by his side. As you capped the lipstick and set it down, you caught his soft gaze in the mirror that made your heart flutter.

“Shall we?” Lando offered his arm to you with a charming smile.

“Wait, I need to blot the excess off first,”

“Want me to get you a tissue?” he asked, his hand already reaching for the box.

“No, come here,” you replied, reaching out to cradle his face in your hands. Lando’s eyes slightly widened in surprise when you leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his right cheek, leaving a perfect imprint of red. He stilled for a moment, his heart pounding as he savored the sweet touch of your lips on his skin.

You pulled back, looked into his eyes and leaned back in to do the same to his left cheek. He closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh, feeling a rush of love for you surge through his veins. But you weren’t done yet. You planted a kiss on his temple, making your way to his forehead and stamping it all over with quick little kisses, each one a promise of love and affection.

Your lips descended to the right side of his face and peppered all over, until there was no spot left unkissed. Lando burst into giggles, his face growing even more pink than your blush, and squirmed between your hands, making it a bit hard to continue your rain of kisses on him.

But you persisted, marking his chin, his jaw, and finally finished with a boop on his nose, your laughter mingling with his until you both were breathless from the joy of the moment. You let go of his face and took a step back to admire your work and the beautiful man standing before you covered in your lipstick kisses, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with adoration.

Lando couldn't help but break into a wide grin, his heart bursting with love for you. He was completely captivated by your playful affection and the way you showered him with kisses, each one a testament to the deep connection you shared.

"There,” you said, snaking your arms around his neck, satisfied. “Now we can go.”

“You forgot the most important one,” before you could react, he wrapped his arms around your waist and captured your lips in a savoring kiss that spoke volumes. You melted into each other’s embrace, forgetting about the world and everything else until only the two of you existed.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your hearts beating as one. Lando rested his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips. “Now we can go,” he whispered, his voice filled with warmth. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“And you love it,” you teased, leaning into his touch. “Now, let’s not keep our dinner reservation waiting.”

Hand in hand, you both made your way out of the bedroom and into the night, where the stars above seemed to twinkle just a little bit brighter as if they were celebrating the love that radiated between you and Lando.

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chuluoyi · 6 months

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only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre/warnings: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

general masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

#zenin naoya x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #zen'in naoya x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #zenin naoya #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fic #jjk naoya #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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23victoria · 2 months

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slow motion

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut (wrap it before you tap it), cussing, fluff, i think that’s it

authors note: it’s been a min so i need to get something out to you guys!! hope it’s not bad and ignore any typos! ALSO SO PROUD OF OSCAR!!! HE DESERVED THATS WIN!! LOVE HIM SM!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

wanna be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

“What the fuck, why would they do that?!”

The frustration coursed through you as McLaren’s decision to box Lando first flashed across the screen. Oscar was leading the race, on the brink of his first victory, and yet they chose to pit Lando first. It didn’t make any sense. Every nerve in your body was on edge as you watched the race unfold. The radio messages about switching positions were maddening. It felt like McLaren was orchestrating the race rather than letting it happen naturally.

Finally, when the order came for Lando to let Oscar through, you felt a mixture of relief and lingering irritation. This was Oscar’s moment, his hard-fought victory, but the team’s strategy had cast a shadow over it, making it seem as if it was a gift rather than something he had earned.

When it was time for the podium celebration, your heart swelled with pride. Watching Oscar spray the champagne, his face illuminated with joy, was everything you had dreamed of. The crowd’s cheers echoed in your ears, and you could hardly contain your excitement. He had done it. He had won his first F1 race, and you were bursting with happiness for him.

After the celebrations, you and Oscar are on the way to the hotel. "McLaren needs to get their stuff together," you told him, shaking your head. "They almost ruined it with their strategy. But you, babe, you were amazing out there. You earned that victory."

Oscar smiled, a tired but satisfied look on his face. "Thank you. I can't wait to go home and sleep."

You shook your head playfully. "Oh no, we have dinner tonight. We're celebrating, sorry not sorry."

He groaned, half-jokingly. "Can't we just stay in?"

"Absolutely not," you insisted, laughing. "We're going to have a nice dinner, drink, dance, and celebrate your victory properly."

The dinner party was a nice turnout. Friends and fellow racers gathered around, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement and congratulations. You and Oscar mingled, shared drinks, and danced, reveling in the celebratory mood. Laughter and cheers filled the air, making the night unforgettable.

On the way to the hotel in the car, you couldn’t keep your hands off Oscar. The excitment from the victory was still coursing through both of you, and your desire for him was at an all-time high. You leaned in, kissing his neck softly at first, then more urgently, as your hands roamed over his chest. He tilted his head back, giving you better access as you whispered dirty words into his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

"You're so amazing, Oscar," you murmured, your voice low and seductive. "I can't wait to get you back to the hotel."

He groaned softly, his eyes darkening with desire. "You're driving me crazy, Y/N."

"Sit on the bed," you instructed him, a mischievous glint in your eye.

As soon as you reached the hotel room, you pushed him inside, locking the door behind you. "Sit on the bed," you instructed, your voice commanding yet playful.

Oscar obeyed, his gaze never leaving yours. You slowly began to undress, swaying your hips seductively as you removed each piece of clothing. His eyes followed every movement, his breath hitching as you revealed more of your skin.

Clad only in your lingerie, you straddled his lap, feeling his arousal pressing against you. You ground your hips against him, eliciting a deep moan from his lips. Your hands roamed over his chest, teasing and caressing as you kissed him deeply, your tongue exploring his mouth.

He reached out to touch you, but you pushed his hands away playfully. "Not yet," you teased, moving his hands to his sides as you continued to dance for him. You could feel his arousal growing beneath you, adding to the heat between you.

Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You pushed him onto the bed and climbed over him, your hands deftly unzipping his pants. You kissed his neck, nibbling on his skin as your hands roamed his body, teasing and tantalizing.

You pushed him back onto the bed, crawling over him with a mischievous glint in your eye. Your fingers deftly unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. You kissed down his chest, trailing your lips lower and lower until you reached his hard length. You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach.

Oscar's hands tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as he groaned with pleasure. "Fuck baby, that feels so good," he breathed, his voice husky with desire.

You slowly sucked his cock, taking your time to pleasure him until he was teetering on the edge. Then, you pulled back kissing his tip, climbing back up to straddle his hips. You guided him inside you, both of you gasping at the sensation. You moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely. Then, you began to ride him harder, your movements becoming more urgent as the pleasure built between you.

Oscar's hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he helped guide your movements. You rode him slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, your moans mingling with the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You leaned down to kiss him, your lips meeting his in a passionate embrace. Your tongues danced together, the kiss deepening as your bodies moved in perfect harmony. You felt his muscles tense beneath you, his breath hot against your mouth as he groaned with pleasure.

"God, you feel so good," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands roamed up your back, pulling you closer as you continued to move together.

You began to ride him harder, your hips moving with increasing urgency. The friction between your bodies was intoxicating, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Oscar's hands moved to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, Oscar suddenly flipped you onto your back, taking control. He thrust into you with a new intensity, his movements faster and harder than before. The change in angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you cry out his name.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss as he drove into you. "You're mine," he growled against your mouth, his voice raw with passion. "Every inch of you."

"Yes, Osc," you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "I'm yours. Always."

His pace quickened, his hips slamming into yours with a relentless rhythm. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin. His name fell from your lips in a litany of pleasure as he brought you closer and closer to the brink.

"Come for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice a low, sexy growl in your ear.

His words sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, a powerful orgasm ripping through you. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him. Oscar followed soon after, his own release hitting him hard. He buried his face in your neck, groaning your name as he filled you with his warmth.

You lay there together, your bodies entwined, both of you breathing heavily as you came down from the high. Oscar gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with love and satisfaction.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice tender.

"I love you too, baby," you replied, pulling him into a soft, lingering kiss.

✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens

✿ .° • oscar taglist • °. ✿ : @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel l @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @flowerpetalk @oledoledoffen

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lightsoutletsgo · 6 months

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flowers are a language of their own — mv.1

pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 4.2k warnings: slight angst

four times max gives you flowers and the first time you reciprocate, a childhood friends to lovers oneshot this is basically inspired by gwen and for gwen 😭 @verstappen-cult once again thanking you for my max brain rot bc these conversations are just DOING something to me skskksjsj but MWAH! I hope you like it my love 🤍 happy reading! mimi

i. daisies; new beginnings, innocence, cheerfulness (age 6) You hadn’t been at your new school very long, having moved to the town recently. You’d struggled with making new friends, the new language making things even more difficult. But this had really ruined your day. Your bottom lip jutted out and began to wobble as you looked at your drawing you’d spent the whole morning perfecting before tidy-up time. What had once been a beautiful explosion of scribbled crayon colours across one page now lay in two halves. It was more than your poor six year old brain could handle and so you immediately burst into tears. Wailing and sobbing, your teacher hurried over to see what the issue was. Between gasping inhales and snotty sobs you pointed to your crumpled torn drawing. She picked it up and turned to address the class of wild six year olds, “Alright class, does anybody know what happened to Y/N’s picture?” Your teacher’s voice was gentle, “You won’t be in trouble but our friend is very sad so we need to apologise and make it right okay?” Your bottom lip wobbled as your sniffles quietened a little and a small voice could be heard from the back of the classroom, “I didn’t mean to!” A small boy stepped forwards, bright blonde hair with blue eyes and you glared at him. He looked down at the floor as he awkwardly scuffed his shoe against the carpet. The teacher approached him and crouched down, “Thank you for being honest Max… Can you come and say sorry?” He nodded and took the teacher’s hand as she lead him over to you, “I’m sorry…” His apology was accented by a slight lisp and you frowned, arms crossing in front of your chest. “Thank you Max, Y/N? Max said it was an accident and that he’s sorry okay?” You let out a slight ‘hmmph’ as the teacher straightened up at the sound of the lunch bell. Max was quick to run out of the classroom with his friends but you plodded behind the group, still sad about your artwork.

You grabbed your lunchbox from your locker and looked for a chair in the lunch hall. Spotting your favourite yellow chair you couldn’t help but gasp as your little legs headed over as fast as they could carry you. You sat down and opened your lunchbox, legs swinging under the table. You’d barely taken two bites of your sandwich before a boy approached the table. You looked up and saw Max standing there, his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry I broke your drawing.” Max did his best to speak so you’d understand. “‘S fine.” You grumbled, annoyed he was talking to you. Six year old you could really hold a grudge… His cheeks tinted pink as he removed his hands from behind his back to hold out a small bunch of daisies he’d clearly picked from the playing field. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. “Here, for you…” He took a step closer and you held your hand out for him to gently place the flowers in your palm. Your eyes looked at him and you noticed how his knees were slightly muddy and there was a streak of dirt on his cheek. You giggled and he beamed back at you, you suddenly felt very shy,

“D-do you want to sit here?” You patted the seat next to you, “We can eat lunch together?” Max nodded, racing off to grab his lunchbox. He dashed back and sat next to you, unzipping his lunchbag to compare the contents with yours. “Are we going to be friends Max?” He nodded enthusiastically, taking your hand in his, “Mhmm! Best friends Y/N! So you can call me Maxie!”

ii. yellow amaryllis; pride, happiness, strength, determination (age 18) “Smile!” You stood with your friends, taking pictures in your graduation gowns and giggling together. But your heart panged, something - or rather someone - was missing from your day. Your eyes scanned the hall, desperately looking for a familiar blonde head. Despite knowing he was currently halfway round the world at a Grand Prix, “Boo!” A hand covered your eyes and a grin spread across your face at the familiar voice, “Maxie!” Turning around, you jumped into his arms and he laughed out loud, “Easy there bug!” You could hear your friends and family laughing and taking pictures of the two of you behind you but you still didn’t pull away, too embarrassed to let anyone see that you had tears welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it…” Max squeezed you a little tighter, “I left as soon as the race was over, there was no way I was missing this!” You pulled back and he wiped the tear that had slipped down your cheek. He let go of you and extended his arm towards you, holding out a beautiful bouquet of yellow amaryllis flowers, complete with yellow and white ribbons.

“Max,” you gasped “they’re so beautiful!” he nudged your shoulder with his, “Hey, you deserve it. They stand for pride, strength, happiness and determination.” “Determination” You spoke at the same time, finishing the sentence together. His eyes stared at you so adoringly, you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. The moment was broken by your parents urging you to stand together for a picture. “What a beautiful couple!” You heard a teacher say as they walked past, “Oh no we’re not-” “Me and him? No way-” Both you and Max spoke over each other, completely missing the knowing looks your friends and family all gave each other. You couldn’t help the fresh wave of giggles that overtook you as Max pulled you into his side. You could have sworn that for the briefest of seconds, butterflies took flight in your stomach but you quickly brushed it off, blaming it on the excitement of the day.

iii. - yellow roses; friendship | bluebells; comfort (age 22) Max couldn’t deny the way that panic flashed through his entire body when he answered your call and heard nothing but your sobs on the other end. “Maxie!” You hiccuped, “Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?” He stood up, not caring that he was interrupting an important team meeting. His alarm grew even more when your only response was to cry even harder. He looked back at the group of people sat around the conference table, “I’m sorry but it’s a family emergency, I have to go.” He raced down the corridor and poked the elevator button far more times than was necessary. “Talk to me bug… I can’t help if you don’t explain what’s going on.” “He cheated Max! I went to his place and he was in bed with my roommate.” Max felt a weird combination of calm and anger wash over him at the same time. Calm because he knew you were safe and anger because who the fuck did your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, think he was? Fuck the elevator, Max headed for the stairs, wanting to get to his car and book a flight to you as soon as possible. “Oh Y/N…” “Said he only did it because he knew that I’d been cheating on him with you.” You heard Max scoff, “God he’s so fucking dumb Y/N… I never really liked him, you know that right? You’ve always been too good for him…” You heard Max sigh on the other end of the line and you curled up into an even smaller ball in your bed, pulling Max’s hoodie up even more as your nose inhaled the comforting scent of him,

“Can we move to facetime? Just wanna see you.” You choked out and he obliged, quickly filling your request. Max felt his heart breaking as he looked at you in your bed. “Hey! Is that my hoodie, bug?” You nodded with a sniffle as he did his best to cheer you up even just a little, “Traitor! You told me you didn’t know where it had gone…” A watery smile spread across your face. “Look, I’m gonna come see you okay?” You sat upright and stared at him hard, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you cannot do that! You have important meetings this week.” “Ooo full name?” He hissed through his teeth, “I am in trouble.” You shook your head at him, “You’re incorrigible.” “Big words we’re using today hmm?” You flipped him off and he laughed, “I’ll be there soon, bug okay?” You nodded and he smiled at you once more, “Just hang in there for a little longer.” He ended the call and immediately your smile dropped. In those brief few seconds you’d forgotten why you’d even called him in the first place. But now in the quiet of your apartment, the sad feelings crept up once more, smothering you and dragging you down.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep the night before, but the combination of the doorbell ringing and the knocking on the door jolted you awake. Rushing to the front door, you threw it open, still slightly disorientated from your rude awakening, “Hey bug.” “Maxie!” You felt wide awake staring at Max who now stood on your doorstep, a warm smile across his face. You immediately felt like bursting into tears once more and Max was quick to see that, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you as he rested his head on top of yours. “It’s okay bug,” you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, “I got you.” He waddled with you in his arms, through your doorway and into the hallway to close the door and give you some privacy. As he held you, he felt his heart race a little, thinking how he would never make you or let you cry like that if you were his girl - wait what? Now was not the time to be thinking about those kinds of things! Max held you until your sobbing had quietened down again, “Sorry,” you sniffed all snotty and he just poked your nose and laughed gently, “It’s okay Y/N.” His hand gently rubbed your arm as he watched you take a few deep breaths to compose yourself, “Here.” He pulled a somewhat squished bouquet of flowers out of what seemed like nowhere, “Sorry, they got a little uhhh… too involved in the hug?” You let out a breath of laughter and took them from him, a finger gently tracing the petals, “Yellow roses? For friendship right?” Max nodded with a smile, “Yellow roses, because I’m always gonna be your best friend who has your back and bluebells because they’re comforting.” You couldn’t help the way your heart clenched hearing his words. It seemed that Max not only bought you flowers often but he even thought of the meaning of what he was buying. For some reason, the thought had those pesky flutters appearing in your stomach but you quickly reprimanded yourself and shook them off. You hadn’t even broken up with your ex for more than 24 hours yet, but here you were thinking about Max romantically? You shook your head, that was a line you could never think of crossing, no matter how much it seemed to be crossing your mind more and more the older you got.

iv. pink tulips; perfect love, affection (now) Now that you were living in Monaco, not too far from Max, movie nights were a common occurrence, with evenings being split between your apartment and his. Food would be ordered and wine would be drunk, movies would be played but barely watched as the two of you would end up talking into the night and continue long after the credits had finished rolling. If there was one thing you could count on Max for, it was his promptness and so when the clock read seven o’clock exactly, you knew it would only be a matter of seconds before you heard his footsteps down the hallway to your apartment. You were proven correct as Max let himself into your apartment, calling out as he did so, “Hey bug! It’s just me!” “In the living room!” You called back, smiling as he appeared in the doorway, holding something behind his back, “What have you got there hmm?” Max’s smile wavered for a second and you frowned, sitting up on the couch, “Max?” He exhaled and bit his lip nervously, “Maxie?” You tried again much more softly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, “I’m about to say something and…” He sighed, “I just want you to let me finish okay?” You nodded confused as he came to sit next to you, holding out a bouquet of pink tulips as he did so. You felt yourself gasp as you stared at the flowers, admiring the pretty wrapping and how the ribbon matched the flowers. You wracked your brain as you stared, desperately trying to recall the meaning, Max always gave flowers with meaning. Appreciation? No, apology? Nope not that... No. It couldn’t be? Could it? “Affection?” You didn’t even realise you’d spoken the word out loud but a sharp inhale from Max was enough to tell you he’d heard you. Your eyes shot up to his face and noticed he wouldn’t even look at you, instead choosing to gently trace over the bouquet ribbon, “Yes.” His cheeks were pink and you could have sworn you stopped breathing. It was silent in your apartment. The only noise coming from the traffic outside and the thump of your neighbour as their work boots clunked over the floor before their door slammed. The noise pulled you out of your silence as you stared at Max, “What did you just say?” Max finally dared to look up as he gazed into your eyes, “Pink tulips, affection, perfect l…” “Perfect what?” There was no way he was going to say what you thought he was going to say… “Perfect love.” You stood up from the couch, immediately pacing back and forth as your hands started to fumble together, “Max…” You breathed, finally stopping to look at him sat staring at you. “Okay so this is the part where I need you to listen…” You let out a laugh of disbelief but said nothing as he swallowed, hands nervously rubbing the legs of his jeans. “I like you.” You froze as he continued, “I like you and I think I honestly have for a while… I know that this might not be the best time to tell you but I just can’t keep kidding myself anymore. The feelings I have for you? They’re not things I would be feeling if you were just a best friend to me Y/N. God I think I always knew it was you… From the day I ruined your drawing and then when I surprised you at your graduation… And then that horrific breakup,” You both winced, “I swore then that I would never let you cry over another man like that again. Because I wanted to be the only man that you had from then on.” Your lips parted as a nervous exhale left you. He stopped his rambling, panting slightly as he looked at you, “If you have anything to say, now would be a good time to say it…” You looked at him. Max, your Max. The boy that had been there for you through everything, your best friend.

“No…” You whispered out, your own heart breaking at your words, “I can’t…” Max looked absolutely crushed, “No?” His voice was quiet, “Why?” You shrugged, bottom lip trembling, “I can’t risk losing you.” Max scoffed, “Losing me?” “What if we break up hmm? You’re telling me we would be able to go back to being best friends like nothing ever happened? What if it doesn’t work hmm?” Max shook his head as your spoke, “You think I would say this to you if I didn’t think it would work?” “I-I… I don’t know!” You exclaimed as Max stood up, “You won’t even try?” “I’m too scared to Max…” He nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets as you stared at him, “I’m so sorry.” You whispered, “Me too.” he said before turning and walking out. The door hadn’t even closed behind him before you’d collapsed to the floor, your legs giving out. You’d never cried so hard because of him before. Not when he’d ripped your drawing, not when he'd surprised you at graduation, not even when he’d held you after your breakup.

You stared at the pink tulips as they lay on your couch, their bright happy hopeful colour taunting you. You stalked over to them and picked them up, heading straight to the trash, pulling your arm back to throw them away but you found yourself physically unable to do it.

i. flowers are a language of their own You weren’t sure whether it was convenient or not that Max had a double header after that conversation. Usually you would spam him while he was away and he would pick things up when he could. Often late at night in his hotel bed, a goofy grin plastered across his face as he opened your fit pics and food diary pics of the day, reading through your spam about work, friends and cute cats you’d spotted on the street.

But this time there had been nothing. From either of you. It had been strange and hurtful. You sighed as you checked your phone again for the millionth time that day, already knowing there would be no new notifications from him. Why would there be? The guy you liked had confessed to you and you’d broken his heart because you were too scared he’d break yours. Groaning you dropped your head to the kitchen counter, thumping your forehead against it a few times in the hope of gaining some sense of clarity. It didn’t work. You sighed and stood up straight. You were still kicking yourself for shutting him down so quickly. Yes, he was your Maxie, your best friend, but wasn’t that the point? He knew you so well, he cared for you and loved you, in whatever capacity. He would never intentionally hurt you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, there had been a continuous pull in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest the longer you went without talking to him. You knew if you could do the situation over again you would give a completely different answer. You didn’t want him to break your heart but now you had lost him completely.

Your head shot up as a plan began to form in your head. Grabbing your phone you looked up plane tickets for the country you knew Max was in at the moment. You knew things would be tricky without his help and you didn’t even know if it would work out, but for him you had to try. Selecting your seat you rushed to pack a bag, noticing how the now dry and dead tulips still lay on your bedroom vanity, the pink now much less vibrant and tinged with brown. Your stomach flipped and you hoped to god it would all work out. You knew which hotel the team usually stayed at when they were racing in that specific country and so after making a quick stop you headed straight there, planning to just wait until you were spotted by someone from the team who recognised you and took pity on you. You didn’t have to wait long as one of Max’s race engineers was exiting the building just as your taxi pulled up. Clambering out of the vehicle as you spotted him, he smiled and waved, “Hey! Didn’t know you were coming this weekend? Max usually says something.” “Ah,” you shuffled awkwardly, not wanting to give anything away about your strained relationship, “it’s a surprise!” His eyes widened and he grinned at you knowingly, especially when he spotted what you carried in your arms. “Well… Seeing as it’s you, I’ll give you his room number.” After obtaining the information you needed you thanked him and headed inside, getting on the elevator and pressing the button for his floor as you thanked whatever higher powers there were that so far the plan was working. As the bell dinged for your floor you gulped, a whole new wave of nerves and anxiety washing over you. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he got angry with you and sent you away? But what if he heard you out? Oh crap, what were you gonna say?

Through your internal rambling, you had somehow managed to walk to his door and now you stood frozen. Unable to knock and unable to move. Swallowing the lump in your throat you knocked the door gently. You heard a crash and then a curse in Dutch came from inside and you winced. Oh god, if he was already in a bad mood… This wouldn’t help. The door swung open and a tired looking Max stood there. Dressed in cosy sweatpants and navy hoodie, no logos in sight but still fitting his team colours. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you in front of him. “Y/N?” You gave the softest of smiles nervously, “Hi Maxie.”

You weren’t sure what you’d expected when you saw him. You’d thought about how he might yell or cry or get mad or slam the door in your face but you certainly hadn’t expected him to grab your arms and pull you into a hug, burying his face in your neck, “Fuck, I missed you so much I’m so sorry…” You sniffled, pulling back and looking at him, “Why are you sorry?! I’m sorry! I never should have doubted you-” “I never should have pressured you-” “You didn’t! I never should have jumped to conclusions about how things would end. God. It’s been so miserable without you…” You noticed his eyes growing tearful. “Here, come in.” He gently pulled you into the room and closed the door behind you. Your eyes swept the room and zeroed in on an object on his bed, “Is that my t-shirt?” You asked incredulously, mouth gaping at him slightly as he rushed to shove it in his suitcase, “N-no!” “Max Emilian…” Your voice was low, “M-maybe…” You gave him a pointed stare and he relented, “Okay yes fine it is.” He sighed, “I found it at my apartment that night when I got back and… I just… I didn’t have you and it was the closest thing…” He trailed off, sitting on the bed. You padded across the room to take a seat next to him, one hand gently rubbing his back, “I know Maxie… Me too.” His head rested on your shoulder and you inhaled shakily, it was now or never.

You looked back across the room at where your things lay in the entrance. You stood up and made your way over, picking up what you needed before turning back to him with your arms behind your back. “I’m about to say something…” His head shot up to look at you, “and I need you to let me finish.” You gave him a tearful smile and he swore he felt his breathing quicken as you practically echoed his words from a few weeks ago. You approached him and offered him the bouquet from behind your back. He stared at it for a moment before his eyes flicked up to look at yours.

“Red roses?” You nodded, unable to keep looking at him - partly shy and partly terrified of his answer, until he gently held your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze once more, “Red roses.” “You know what they mean don’t you?” “I picked them for a reason.” He stood up and gently took them from you, one hand sliding round your waist to pull you into him, “Baby’s breath?” “Baby’s breath.” You looked down, breathing your answer as his face got closer to yours. “Is this your speech then?” You let out a breath, “I figured I would let the flowers speak for themselves, god knows you’ve been doing it long enough.”

His lips were practically on yours and it took everything in you to keep standing as his next words were brushed against your lips, “Is this your answer then?” You nodded, “No schat, please… Let me hear you say it…” His eyes closed as he felt your shuddering breath, “Yes, Max. Yes, I want to try with you, I love you and that’s enough to tell me we should try-” Any further words you had were cut off by Max’s lips meeting yours. His grip around your waist tightened, the flowers sliding from his other hand to the floor as he gently cupped your face, thumb rubbing back and forth across your cheek. You couldn’t help the way you smiled against his lips and he laughed at the feeling, the two of you giggling and grinning between kisses like the lovesick idiots you were.

Red roses; declaration of love, Baby’s breath; eternal love.

#mimi.writes #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 angst #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen fanfic

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