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tlou-reid · 4 months

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Finishing Gifts ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: after a few days of ignoring him, Aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal

♡ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, female and male masturbation, phone sex, mentions of watching porn, sex toys, drinking, small mentions of criminal minds-esque themes and violence, pretty much porn with very little plot, this is not edited like at all

♡ NOTE: something about writing aaron masturbating makes me go brrrrrr

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You had thought you were keeping your cool. Honestly, truly, you had thought no one would notice the small changes in your behavior. You had tried to be subtle in dodging Hotch, doing it slowly and over time. It had started with piggybacking Spencer’s theories in the field, which led to pushing to go look at a crime scene rather than to the police department with Hotch. Then evolved into getting deep into conversation with JJ as you approached the jet, using it as an excuse to claim a seat next to her rather than your normal position between Hotch and the window.

These acts had gone unnoticed, or, at least, you’d thought. In your determination to avoid them, you hadn’t noticed the strange looks Derek and Morgan had thrown each other, and then Aaron, as you relaxed next to JJ. You missed Garcia questioning what had been up with you as you extended your time making coffee before a briefing, just so you didn’t have to walk behind Hotch into the room.

But, your latest change to avoid your unit chief definitely didn’t fly under the radar. This one was loud and clear, and absolutely threw off the entire BAU.

You’d just completed, by all possible metrics, a very successful case. It was a rare one, looking at terrorism in the DC area. A group of people who were planting explosives around the city, in unsuspecting areas. Instead of targeting political buildings or memorials, they focused on smaller-scale destruction. The team had been able to put the perpetrators away with no more casualties than those that were gone before the team landed. All in all, it was incredibly stressful, but a win for the team.

So, after Emily’s suggestion and Derek’s reminder that it was an extended weekend due to a government holiday, the team was getting ready to head to the bar. You had begged to go home to shower, promising you’d take an Uber (so you could, in Penelope’s words, “get fucked up with the girls”) and meet them at the bar in about an hour.

You put on your best outfit, showing an appropriate amount of cleavage, and did your makeup to the best of your abilities. After you’d cleaned up, you went to open your Uber app, excited to have a night to relax.

However, you were cut off when a phone call overtook your screen. “Aaron” the contact name read, indicating it was your unit chief, and that he was calling from his personal cellphone. You let ring a few times before picking up, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to your boss.

“Hellooo,” you practically sung into the phone, too excited to be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him. He simply replied with a formal “hello,” followed by your name. “Please don’t tell me you’re ruining my longggg weekend,” You said to him, and he swore he could hear some of jewelry shaking. You couldn’t keep your excitement in, shaking your wrists, which made your bracelets make noise.

He chuckled a bit at your reaction to him calling, “No, no. I was just calling to see if you had left yet.” You smiled against the phone, knowing where this conversation was going. “Nope! I was actually ordering my Uber when you called,” you informed him. “So, you haven’t ordered it?” He questioned again, to which you replied with a “uh-uh”.

You couldn’t tell but your excitement about going out with your friends was essentially oozing through the phone, causing Aaron to maintain a bright smile on his face. You weren’t aware of how your vibe, your energy, was able to lift a weight off of Aaron’s shoulders that had been there for as long as he could remember.

“I also had to run home before meeting the team. If you’d like, I can pick you up.” Your smile, somehow, grew even bigger. Any excuse to see Aaron was a good one, you’d thought.

However, your face quickly fell when you reminded yourself that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You felt a pang in your heart as you said, “Thanks, but I have a few things to finish up here! I appreciate the offer, Hotch.”

With a quick, formal goodbye, the called ended. Aaron tried to ignore the fact that you lied to him as he drove the rest of the way. You had said you were about to call your Uber, and he heard your jewelry, meaning you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit. So why wouldn’t you accept his ride?

He tried to ignore the blow to his chest when you called him Hotch. Something about the use of his last name made him feel as if he’d done something wrong. Not that it was unusual for you, or anyone really, to call him that. It was the emphasis you’d put on it. As if you were trying to make it known he was Hotch and not Aaron.

Aaron tried to turn off his profiling ability, but it was proving to be had as all of his thoughts were currently encompassed by you.

The night, and the whole weekend if you were being honest, went by in a blur. You could tell Aaron had noticed the change in your behavior. You were standoffish at the bar, pretty much avoiding any conversation with him. You just hoped by the end of the long weekend it would be forgotten, and you’d be able to continue work as normal.

This dream was quickly demolished as Aaron was summoning you into his office before you had the chance to even put your bag down and unpack your files.

The sound of calling your last name both frightened and intrigued you. You couldn’t help but be attracted to the authority in his voice, even if it could mean you were going to be in trouble.

As you stepped into the voice, Aaron didn’t even look up. He mumbled a “shut the door, please,” as he finished recording some notes on an opened file in front of him. You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for some kind instruction or reasoning from him.

“Please,” he gestured to the seats in front of his desk. You nodded, clumsily making your way to them. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable by calling you in here,” he began.

You weren’t sure if you were more scared by being called into his office, to have a conversation that required you to both sit down and shut the door, or the intense eye contact he was maintaining as he introduced whatever discussion you two were about to have.

“I just couldn’t help but notice,” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “a recent change in your behavior.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes went wide, knowing you’d been caught. You didn’t have to ask what he was talking about to know you’d been caught, but you did anyway, “What do you mean?” You thought you were playing your part well, furrowing your eyebrows to truly emphasis your fake confusion.

“It feels as though you’ve been avoiding me.” Aaron says. His tone isn’t angry or even authoritative, but rather, disappointed. There’s a slight huff in the way he spoke. He didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself before he continued, “Which is fine if you so choose to do so. I would just like to know if it was because of something I did and if I could fix it. I want the team to function as well as it can, and I feel as though it would not if there was conflict between you and I.”

Aaron had to find a professional spin to throw his statement, knowing the professionalism of this situation was debatable at best. “Oh, sir,” you blushed, not really knowing what to say, “I don’t believe there is any conflict between us.” Your voice was formal, too formal. It was obvious you were under pressure. “So, what is it then?” He questioned.

You could feel yourself growing small under his intense stare. You could also feel the wet patch growing between your legs, making you slightly uncomfortable.

“You, uh, you kind of make nervous.” With your quiet voice and stutter, and the way your thighs squeezed together, it was easy for Aaron to pick up on the reason he made you nervous. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink instantaneously. “Oh,” his voice trailed off, followed by your quiet, “yeah.”

There was a few beats of silence before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear there’s no issues between us.” You nodded with his words, growing even more nervous. Your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just been a minute since I’ve, ya know, and I know you’re boss but I will be completely professional and this will not effect my work in or out of the field.”

While you mean to be assuring your boss that your attraction to him was no detriment to your work, you just admitted that it’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. You needed to end this conversation quickly.

“If that’s all,” You said as you stood, “I have a few more reports to finish.” Aaron simply nodded, dismissing you back into the bullpen. You made a break for the bathroom, hoping to have a few minutes to collect yourself before facing the race of the team. You felt exposed, knowing you were entering a room of profilers after since a painful experience. You needed some time alone.

After a mini-breakdown, and cleaning up your messed up mascara, you made your way to your desk. Calm and collected. That’s all you had to be. Calm and collected.

Serial killers and other criminals had quieted down for the week, in an unlikely turn of events. You’d only had to travel for one day, quickly solving a kidnapping case and the finding the perpetrator. The week flew by swimmingly. Nothing odd had happened.

Until you opened your door Saturday morning.

You hadn’t ordered anything, that much you were sure of. Even if you did, you tended to shop at places with bright packaging that made you feel like you were opening a gift when it was delivered. This unsuspecting, plain box was not here on your accord, yet it had your name and address on it.

The FBI agent side of you flipped into protection mode, racing to grab your phone and dial up the one person you knew that could tell you what to do if there happened to be a bomb inside of the box. Derek Morgan. “Pretty girl, why are you facetiming me at 8:27am on a Saturday?” He teased with a smile on his face. No matter what time it was, Derek was ready to listen.

“I got this box and I don’t know what it is. I just want someone to be around when I open it.” You informed him, sitting down next to the box. You should probably be standing, just in case you had to make a run for it but you were too worried about getting it open to think that far ahead.

“Alright,” He said, urging you to open it. You nodded to him, setting up the phone so he could you see and the box in the frame. You carefully tore off the tape, and let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened when it moved. You lifted the flaps slowly, taking a loud gasp when you saw it was. You hoped Derek didn’t see, and moved quickly to pick up your phone to hang up before he could.

“It’s not a bomb! I’m good, thanks Derek!” You rushed, hanging up before he could say anything. Your eyes didn’t leave the box as you let your arms fall to your sides. Sitting inside of it was a small, pink rose toy. A vibrator. That you definitely didn’t order.

You grabbed the box, hoping none of your neighbors saw it. It’s not that masturbation was wrong or immoral or that you didn’t partake, it was just weird if the people around you were aware of your toys.

So, you made sure your door was tightly closed before putting the box on the table and digging through it. There was all the normal things, the vibrator itself, large bubble wrap, and a paper receipt with the name of the product: Intimately GG Rose Suction Simulator from Pink Cherry.

However, there was another piece of paper at the bottom of the box. It was a typed note that read, “I hope this helps us go back to normal. A.H”. You knew exactly one person with the initials A.H. so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had ordered you this sex toy.

You weren’t sure if you were more turned on or embarrassed.

Aaron was your boss. Your kind, protective, strong, hot, sexy, boss. But still your boss. You wondered if this is something he would’ve done for someone like Emily or Penelope if they’d been in your predicament. It clicked quickly that it definitely wasn’t, and that made you special in Aaron Hotchner’s eyes.

So, you made a mental note to give him a call, after you tried out your toy. Luckily, you had your cleaning solution and an old bottle of lube from your past encounters. You made quick work of getting the toy clean and finding a video to help you get yourself off.

Of course, the man in the video was a white man who was bit older, with broad shoulders and black hair. No coincidence there.

You started with your boobs, taking time to massage each one before pulling on and pinching them to get yourself warmed up. Between the sounds coming from the video and the excitement of finally having time to yourself, your hands didn’t take long to move downwards, tracing along the length of your body. One hand continued caressing your side as the other made its way to your core.

The thought of Aaron going out of his way to help you get off and the visual of a man who looked similar to him getting his dick sucked had you borderline dripping on your bedsheets as you used your hand to start toying with your clit. You started with small circles, matching the speed of the girl sucking Aaron’s lookalike’s dick.

You stayed like this for a while, allowing yourself to go slow, really take your time pleasuring yourself. The guy in the video had already finished on the girl’s tits by the time you reached for your rose toy. You didn’t need the visual anymore, perfectly crafting dirty scenarios of your unit chief in your head.

You started on low. There was gentle sucking on your clit as you imagined the way Aaron would kiss. He’s experienced, you know that for sure. You could imagine the way he’d start gentle, maybe even cupping your face as he pulled you close. He’d let you feel like you were in charge, before his tongue made its way inside your mouth. His dominant side would take over, using his body to press you against whatever surface you were sat on.

As you fantasized about his dominant side, you cranked up the toy to the next level. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. Your free hand moved back to your breast, squeezing, while you did your best to imagine Aaron’s large hands doing it instead.

You could feel the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as you imagined Aaron slowly stripping your body, dragging his hand along each and every curve. With a sharp pinch to your nipple and a cry of Aaron’s name, you came undone all over your rose toy.

You could feel your slick dripping down your hand as you worked yourself through your orgasm, making sure to enjoy it for as long as you could. You wished you could savor this feeling. It was the strongest, best orgasm you’d ever had. Nothing could compare to the euphoria you felt right now.

You flicked the toy off and sat it to the side once the feeling became too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from your position. “Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to relax the hard rise and fall of your chest.

Once you were able to relax, you made your way to the shower. You knew you had to call Aaron, but you needed to be much more relaxed than you were right now to have that conversation. The sting from the hot water helped ground you, allowing you to clear your mind. After you cleaned yourself, you cleaned the toy and put everything in your nightstand drawer for future use.

Then, you reached for your cellphone. You quickly found Aaron’s personal number and hit the call button before you could overthink what you were doing. He picked up on the second ring. “Hotchner,” he said, probably out of habit. “Hello, Aaron,” you smiled. This is the conversation you’d had with him in a while that didn’t make you feel nervous. “Hello,” he echoed with your name. You didn’t know, but he was smirking on the other side of the phone. He’d been waiting for this call.

“You sent me a gift?” You asked. “I did. Have you received it?” He wasn’t sure what grew more, his smirk or his cock. “I have. I’ve opened it and took it for a test run as well.” The way you two were beating around the bush was a turn on, but the way he sounded so self-assured, as if he knew what you were going to say, had you clenching your thighs together.

“How did it perform?” Aaron questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table in front of him. This tightened the dress pants he was wearing against his hardened cock. “Very well,” You smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope this is the end of all of your weird behavior.” Aaron chuckles. Just the sound of his laugh has you reaching your hand to squeeze the fat of your thighs.

“What weird behavior, Aaron?” You questioned, teasingly. This conversation is very different than any you’d had before, and it was turning you. You didn’t think it was possible with the strong orgasm you’d maybe an hour ago. But, Aaron was a special individual. He had that effect on you.

“You were avoiding me,” He scoffed. “I don’t know if I was. I think it was self-control,” You smiled, knowing you were baiting him. Without missing a beat, he took the bait, “And why did you need to practice self-control?”

Aaron leaned back in his chair, opting to press his hand against his cock instead of using the soft fabric to provide some kind of friction. He needed more, that much he knew.

“Because I was trying not to jump your bones, Aaron.” You breathed out. Your words had him squeezing his bulge, feeling like he could bust just from knowing you were attracted to him. “Fuck,” Aaron groaned into the phone. You giggled at his reaction, moving to press your hand against your core, again.

“Tell me about your toy,” He demanded, finally using the authoritarian tone that helped you get into this situation in the first time. “So you can touch yourself while I do?” You questioned, assuming he was in the same position as you. “Is that okay?” He questioned. “Of course it is, Aaron.” You promised, and used your permission as an excuse to unbutton his pants, and shove his hand under the waistband of his boxers.

As you started talking, he spread the precum, that’s been oozing from his pretty pink tip since he saw your contact name, along the length of his dick. “It was so good, Aaron. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?” Aaron encouraged you to keep going as he started stroking his cock. “Yeah,” You whined out, “I wish you could’ve seen me. My legs were shaking and I was leaking so much.” You smirked as you heard him groan in to the phone. His strokes had quickened in length. All he could picture was you spread out on his bed, cumming around his cock.

“What did you think about while you came?” You were surprised he was able to get the question out, especially because he only stuttered once. You wished you could see the way he squeezed his eyes together as he tugged on his cock. “You, obviously. I was thinking about your lips and your hands. I finished before I could get to the good part. I wanted to picture you fucking me from behind, pressing my face into the mattress.”

You were going to continue describing your fantasy to him, but he cut you off with a “Fuck!” as he came down his hands.

The line was silent for a few minutes before you spoke, “Hey, Aaron?” He hummed out a “yeah?”, before you asked, “Do you want to come over?”

“Give me ten minutes,” He promised, “and have the toy out.”

Well, you couldn’t refuse that.

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 7 months

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All You Have To Do Is Ask

(Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader x Eddie Munson)

Summary: Ever since your boyfriend Steve found out that you lost your virginity to your friend Eddie he can’t stop thinking about the two of you together, the fantasies of you and Eddie tangled together running through his mind on repeat. It starts off with just the two of you but when the fantasies start to evolve and Eddie is touching him too, he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it. WK:9k (idk how that happened)

Warnings: Modern AU, Everyone’s in their mid 20s, Kinda fuck boy Eddie in the beginning, Steve is having major bipanic, Dom!Eddie, kinda Sub!Steve, Sub!Reader, handjobs, oral (both m & f receiving), facial (Steve cums on readers face), cum eating, unprotected sex, threesome, choking, hair pulling, pining all around, kinda angst because Eddie loves reader and thinks it’s one sided, but it happy endings from me always! I think that’s it? If I missed any please lmk! 18+MNDI

A/N: Okay this one took me forever because I kept changing my mind about how I wanted it and I’m still not obsessed with how it turned out but thank you to my lovely betas @bimbobaggins69 @lilthbunny & @reidsbtch for hyping me up, I probably would’ve scraped this entire idea if it wasn’t for you guys.🖤

It was a hot summer day and Eddie was over at you and Steve’s apartment complex to take advantage of the pool and if he didn’t know any better he would think you were trying to torture him. You were laying on your side on one of the lounge chairs in this little black bikini and no matter how hard he tried to focus on anything else his eyes kept wandering back to the way your tits were squeezed into the top and the way bottoms fit your ass perfectly.

Then there was fucking Eddie, sitting on the chair across from you dramatically telling a story with his hands. He was shirtless and he had pulled his shaggy locks into a low bun. Droplets from it still being wet dripped down his chest and Steve found himself wanting to lick it off, chlorine be damned.

The way the water and sweat made his skin glisten made Steve think about him being sweaty in other situations.

Like you on your hands and knees while Eddie railed you from behind. Eddie between your legs eating your pussy like a man starved. Or you with your mouth stuffed full of Eddie’s cock, drool dripping down your chin from gagging. The scenes have been playing out in his head like a movie he couldn’t seem to stop watching. He was starting to feel like he was losing his mind.

It all started a few weeks ago when Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan came over to you and Steve’s. You were all sitting in the living room having a few drinks and passing around a blunt Eddie brought when the topic of how everyone lost their virginity came up.

Obviously when it came to Nancy’s story, she didn’t go into detail but her bringing it up in any capacity was enough to make Steve feel a little awkward. But that feeling didn’t last long, Eddie’s story brought on a whole different set of emotions.

“I lost mine on my sixteenth birthday, I had just got the van and I took this really awesome girl out to lovers lake. I wasn’t even expecting anything, we had been close friends for a while and I didn’t think she thought of me that way. But she straddled me and told me she wanted to give me her virginity for my birthday. I remember being such a fumbly idiot because I was so surprised but she was so sexy and confident about it. Honestly the best possible way I could’ve lost it.” He looked Steve in the eyes and smirked like he knew something he didn't.

“Oh my god Eddie! You make it sound like it was so romantic we bumped heads the first time we tried to kiss and then you spent almost 5 minutes trying to get my bra off because you were determined to do it yourself ‘for practice’” You giggled and smacked him on the arm.

“Wait… you guys?” Steve felt his mouth go dry because you never told him this, granted he hasn’t told you about how he lost his virginity either, but still, it seems like this would’ve come up considering how often Eddie is around now.

“Still wouldn’t change it for the world princess. You’re forgetting the part where we went back to my trailer and I made you scream my name all night long.”

“Oh my fucking god Eddie… shut up.” You laughed as you took the blunt from his hand to take a pull off of it.

Steve felt his cheeks grow hot, but not for the reason he was expecting. Normally he would feel jealous to some extent that the guy his girlfriend lost her virginity to was sitting in the living room of their shared apartment telling the story like it was the best night of his life but something about the way Eddie was talking made him blush.

“To answer your question Steve, yeah we did, and not just that time.” Eddie took a sip of his beer, a bit of it not making it into his mouth causing it to drip down his chin and for a split second Steve thought about licking it off... Wait what the fuck?

“Were you guys like… together?”

“No honey, we were just friends with benefits, we still went on dates with and saw other people. But neither of us found someone good enough to keep around, until I met you.” You smiled sweetly at him, pushing back a piece of his hair that came out of place.

“Best friends with benefits, thank you very much. But for me I don’t think I’ll ever find someone good enough to keep around, I’m good on all that lovey dovey shit. Speaking of, this has been wonderful my dear friends, but alas, this girl I've been talking to sent me a nude and asked me what I was doing over an hour ago. So I must bid you all farewell.” How bowed, exiting in a typical Eddie fashion, leaving Steve feeling more confused than he ever had in his life.

The night went on without it being mentioned again, but it was all Steve could think about, even as he laid in bed trying to fall asleep he couldn’t shake the visions of you and Eddie tangled together.

The fantasies keep evolving beyond Steve’s control, at first it was just you and Eddie in various states of pleasure. The first fantasies were focused on you, the way your eyes roll in the back of your head when you cum, those sweet little whimpers you make when he hits just the right spot, the way your tits bounce when you ride him… which were his regular fantasies but the only difference being Eddie was the one fucking you instead of him. Then they started to shift, his mind started to focus on the way Eddie’s hands would look on your body, the faces and sounds he might make, what his cock would look like slipping in and out of your tight wet pussy. They shifted again when he started imaging himself there with you, watching Eddie make you fall apart underneath him, maybe even joining in, fucking your face while he has a perfect view of Eddie taking you from behind. But they truly took a turn when he started to imagine how Eddie’s lips might feel against his, if his hands would feel rough against his skin from years of guitar playing, what his dick might feel like inside him and not just you.

But he didn’t think that was something that could ever happen. What if he made you uncomfortable by bringing it up? What if you thought he was weird? What if you didn’t love him anymore? On top of all of that, even if you were okay with it, he wasn’t sure if Eddie even likes guys.

“Hey baby, you okay?” Steve was snapped out of his trance by the sound of your voice, looking over at you with a look that he hoped looked semi composed.

“Huh? Yeah honey, I’m good. Just thinking about how much I love you.”

“I love you too, silly boy. You sure you’re okay? You checked out for a second there.” You sit up next to him on the lounge chair so you can put your head on his shoulder and rub little circles on his bicep with the tips of your fingers.

“Hmm? Yeah, I think I’m just starting to get a little hungry or something, I’m fine baby, I promise.” He smiles at you sweetly, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“You wanna head inside soon and get something to eat?”

“Yeah I-“

“God damn.” Eddie groans, cutting Steve off while looking at his phone with wide eyes.

“What? Another nude? You’re such a hoe.” You snort, at this point you were used to him bragging about his exploits even if it did give you a weird feeling you forced yourself to ignore.

“Yeah. This guy just sent me a dick pic and it’s fucking nice. Wanna see it Steve?” He looks Steve directly in the eyes and smirks.

Steve’s eyes grow wide and he tries his best to compose himself before speaking.

“Do I wanna-? What? Why would I? Why would I want to see it?” Despite his best efforts his voice cracks slightly and he internally scolds himself.

“I don’t know.” Eddie shrugs. “Just thought you might be interested is all.”

Steve’s head is spinning, why would Eddie ask him that? Did he know? Was he too obvious? Eddie likes guys?

“I didn’t - uh - I didn’t know you liked guys.”

“You didn’t know that? I feel like it’s common knowledge that Eddie likes to fuck dudes Stevie.” You laugh knowingly at your boyfriend’s reaction. You had noticed that he’s been acting sort of strange lately, not distant, just kind of spacey like he has something on his mind. At first you thought maybe he was thinking about breaking up with you but the amount of times he’s been railing you into the mattress lately said otherwise. Everytime you asked him if he was okay he said everything was fine, but you knew your Stevie and you knew something was up. So you started racking your brain, observing his behavior, and you finally came to a conclusion.

You started to notice the way Steve would look at Eddie when he thought no one noticed, the way his eyes lingered on his hands for just a little too long, and most of all how flustered Eddie made him. After thinking back on it you realized his behavior changed the night he found out that you and Eddie used to fuck. Then it all clicked into place, Steve has a crush on Eddie. You’ve considered bringing it up to him on multiple occasions but you didn’t want to push him to talk about it and freak him out so you just waited to see if he would bring it up himself.

But it’s been weeks now and you can tell it’s starting to really weigh on him. It didn’t help that Eddie was constantly giving him shit and not so subtly flirting with him.

“Yeah Steve, I don’t just like guys though, I love them.”

Eddie’s brown orbs are still boring into Steve’s hazel ones and he feels like he might actually pass out.

“Oh. Well, that’s uh - that’s cool man, good for you.”

“It’s really good for me, Steve. Have you ever thought about it, being with a guy?”

You bite your lip, imagining Steve with a guy, but not just any guy…Eddie. Ever since you picked up on Steve’s little crush you can’t stop thinking about them together, all of you together, really. You didn’t think it would ever really happen, but in this moment, something was shifting.

“Stevie, will you go upstairs and start the sandwiches? Me and Eds will gather up the stuff and meet you up there.” You cupped his face, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah uh - I’ll go do that.” Steve sighed, relieved that you gave him a way out of this conversation, he stood up and placed a kiss on your head before trying to walk off as casually as he could with the slight boner he was starting to sport.

“Edward Munson, what in the hell was that?” You glare at him, but there’s a glint in your eye and a smirk on your lips that tells him you aren’t really upset at all.

“I was just giving him shit babe, don’t be mad at me.” He looks at you with puppy dog eyes, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

“I’m not mad, if anything, I’m intrigued, and a little turned on.”

“Yeah?” His breath picks up and his heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. It’s one thing teasing Steve but you sitting here telling him it turns you on… well that’s a whole different situation that he’s not sure how to handle. Eddie has gained a lot of confidence since he has last been with you, he feels secure in his ability to be in control and make people want him… but you? You make him feel like he’s a nervous teenager again.

“Yeah.” You nod, biting your lip. “I think it turns Steve on too… he just doesn’t know how to admit it.”

“Well that, I do know. Every time I flirt with him even a little he looks like he’s gonna pass out.” Eddie snorts, his eyes searching your face for any signs that you’re uncomfortable or jealous. But all he sees is lust there and it makes him feel like he’s the one that’s gonna pass out.

“I think… what if… You wanna test something out with me?” Your bare foot reaches out to caress his calf, your eyes are filled with fire and your bottom lip is secured between your teeth.

“What - what did you have in mind?” If it’s what he thinks it is… he might actually lose it.

“I think you know Eddie… but if you want me to lay it out plain and simple I want you and Steve to both fuck me… and each other, while I watch.” Your foot continues to rub little circles along his bare calf and he feels himself growing hard at this small amount of contact alone. He missed the feeling of your skin.

“Do you think he would be fine with that? Or even into it? I don’t want to freak him out or make him think I’m trying to steal his girl or something.” He’s tried really fucking hard to not flirt with you or look at you for too long but if he’s given the go ahead he’s not sure he will be able to hold back.

He doesn’t want to upset Steve, he likes him and not just because he thinks it’s adorable how flustered he gets when he teases him or the way he wants to take a bite out of his peachy little ass but he’s come to really like him as a person and a friend too. But Eddie loves you, he always has, he’s always regretted letting you go, trying his best to fill the void and bury those feelings in person after person. It never worked, he would feel good for a bit but as soon as it was over and sometimes even during his mind would always drift to you.

“He won’t think that… plus it’s not stealing if you share… C’mon Eddie bear… you knowwww you want to.” You giggle as you stand up, turning around to grab your towel off the chair giving Eddie a perfect view of you in your swimsuit from behind. The bottoms sat high on your ass and the way they tightened against you when you bent over made it so he could see the outline of your pussy and he groaned.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, I swear.”

You tilt your head over your shoulder to smirk at him, leaning down to grab your bag before walking toward the pool gate.

“You coming?”

“Wait!” He quickly grabbed his towel and ran after you. “You asked me if I wanted to try something, what are we trying exactly?”

“When it happens, you’ll know. Just follow my lead.” You winked at him as you pulled the gate open, leading the way back to your apartment, making sure to swing your hips just a little extra as he trailed behind you.

Once you got inside you decided to take a quick shower to get the sweat and chlorine off of you. It took everything in your power not to let your hand travel between your legs as the warm water cascaded down your body. Your mind ran wild with the thoughts of the two boys just a wall away from you.

You exited the shower feeling pent up, so you decided it was time to put your plan in motion. You dried off before generously applying your favorite lotion all over your body, you take your hair out of the bun you threw it into to keep it dry and fluff it a bit in the mirror happy enough with how it looks since you’re hoping to get it pulled later anyways. You wrap your towel around yourself and walk across the hall into your bedroom without turning your back, but you feel eyes on you. You click the door shut gently, walking over to your dresser to find something sexy but still comfortable.

You decided on your tiniest black spandex shorts with no underwear and a little pink tank top that was thin enough to see the outline of your nipples without a bra. You topped it off with fuzzy black thigh highs and smirked at yourself in the full length mirror. Steve loved it when you wore this outfit.

You take a deep breath, hyping yourself up before exiting the room. When you step into the living area Steve and Eddie are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, both on their phones with three plates sitting in front of them on the coffee table. Eddie had changed back into his jeans but his shirt was off and Steve was still in just his bright red slightly shorter than normal swim trunks. You bite your lip as you walk around the couch and scoot past Eddie, your ass practically swallowing those little shorts stopping in front of his face for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Hi boys, you didn’t have to wait for me to eat.” You say as you plop down between them, your thighs and tits bouncing deliciously in the corner of each of their eyes.

“You know I like to eat with you baby.” Steve leans into you, placing his large hand on the sliver of skin between your sock and your thigh.

“You guys are kind of disgusting, cute, but disgusting.” Eddie says as he picks up his sandwich, taking a large bite.

“Awww don’t be jealous Eddie bear, I’m sure Steve would grab your thigh too, if you ask nicely.”

Eddie inhales a piece of his sandwich, coughing as it hits the back of his throat, he grabs his water off the table and eagerly takes a drink.

“Wha-? Why would I? What?”

“Why would you do that? Because I know you want to…” You place your hand over his, pushing it slightly higher on your thigh as you clench them together.

“I don’t - I mean -“ Steve runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. “Why are you being so casual about this?”

“About what honey?” You ask innocently.

“You know what… How did you know? Are you mad? I’m sorry. It’s okay if you don’t-“

“Steve! Calm down. I know you like Eddie because you aren’t as sneaky as you think you are. I caught on about a week ago that you’ve been acting strange ever since you found out Eddie and I slept together. Also no I’m not mad, I already told Eddie it turns me on.” You bring your leg up to rest over his thighs, giving him a perfect view of your pussy in those tight little shorts. If they weren’t black he would be able to see how wet you are.

“You told him? You guys… talked about me?” There was a panicked look in his eyes that you wanted to soothe immediately.

“Yeah we did pretty boy, we talked about how cute you are when you get all flustered… and if you want to put your hand on my thigh, be my guest.” Eddie smirked, patting his large ringed hand against his jean clad thigh. “As long as it’s okay with your lady, that is.”

“Mmm that’s okay with me, as long as I get to touch you too…” Eddie took note of the fact that you just said touch in the general sense this time, nothing about his thigh.

“Yeah - uh - as long as that’s okay with Steve too…” The thought of not just Steve but you touching him was making him squirm.

“Yeah I - um… I think I’d be okay with that, yeah.” Steve sighed, and his grip on your thigh tightened.

“Yeah?” You looked him in the eyes, searching for any signs of doubt but you didn’t find any. Definitely some nervousness, but above all you saw a hunger in him that you’ve never seen before.

“Yeah.” He said more confidently this time.

“Cool.” You smirked as you turned your head towards Eddie, your eyes not leaving his as you brought your hand to rest as high on his thigh as it could be without fully palming his cock. “Eddie.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss me.”

He feels like he’s been waiting years to hear you say those words again, because he has and he doesn’t wait another second to take your face in his hands and crash his lips against yours. Your hand leaves his thigh and snakes into his hair like it has many times before, you pull slightly causing him to moan into the kiss. You feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip but instead of granting him access you pull away, leaving him to subconsciously chase after your touch.

“Now kiss Steve.” You wrap your hand around the back of his neck and give him this look that makes him feel like he would do anything you asked in that moment, maybe even whenever you wanted. He’s never felt like that about anyone besides you.

You turn your head towards Steve, bringing your other hand to the back of your boyfriend’s neck.

“Would you like that baby? You want Eddie to kiss you, just like you’ve been dreaming about?”

“Uh huh - yeah.” Steve nods dumbly, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this was really happening right now.

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice, he reaches across you to grab Steve’s face and pull his lips into kiss. Steve moans, the kiss feels like letting go of a deep breath he’s been holding for weeks and he wants more more more. His hands come up to Eddie’s shoulders to pull him closer and they’re practically squishing you but as you watch Eddie’s tongue dart into Steve’s mouth you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Your hand snakes between your legs and you start to slowly grind against your palm, watching as Eddie practically devours your boyfriend. Steve is letting out these little whimpers you’ve never heard before and Eddie’s groans are something you don’t even realize you missed. A breathy moan escapes your lips and it causes the boys to break from their kiss, their eyes turning to look at you.

They both groan in unison at the sight of you, your tiny shorts hugging your body just right as you grind against your palm, your tits practically spilling out of that little top, breathy gasps leaving your mouth as your chest rapidly rises up and down.

“Awww it looks like someone’s feeling a little needy? You always were such a needy little slut.” Eddie's hand comes up to your jaw and cups your chin causing you to moan at the same time that Steve’s gaps, his eyes going wide in surprise.

“What? Do you guys not play like that? Does Stevie not know how naughty his little sweetheart really is?”

Steve is speechless, trying and failing to find words, he’s never been this hard in his life.

“Tell him princess, tell him how much of a little cock slut you are.” Eddie’s grip on your chin tightens slightly, causing your lips to pout, using his hand to tilt your head so you’re looking at your very flustered boyfriend.

“I’m a little - fuck - a little cock slut.” No one but Eddie has ever made you feel this way. Steve was rough with you sometimes but he was more of an attentive lover. You never trusted any of your other partners enough to give them this kind of power over you but Eddie immediately had you slipping into that space with him like you never left. His hand leaves your chin only to wrap loosely around your neck and pull you close to his chest.

“You don’t play rough with her pretty boy? She’s really fun like this.”

“I mean I do… just not… like that.” Steve’s eyes are all over the place, Eddie’s hand on your throat, the way his arm is pressed between your tits, Eddie’s bare chest. It was like his fantasy come to life but better.

“You gonna be a good girl for us, huh princess?” Eddie's grip on your throat tightens and it causes your eyes to roll back.

“Mhm.” You nod the best you can against his grip, your head starting to go fuzzy in the best way. Eddie’s hand leaves your throat to leave a harsh slap on your thigh that causes you to yelp.

“Use your words, or have you forgotten everything I taught you?” Eddie’s voice is a growl in your ear but his eyes are still boring directly into Steve’s.

“Yeah, yes, I’ll be a good girl.”

“You hear that Stevie? She’s gonna be a good girl for us, gonna let us play with her just how she likes. I think you’re going to be learning some things about not just yourself but your girl too tonight. You want that, want me to teach you?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Steve’s hand comes down to palm his cock that feels like it’s about to bust out of his shorts.

“Alright. Get on your knees baby, now.”

Eddie releases his grip on your neck, his hands leaving you completely as he backs up to give you space to get up. You slide off the couch and onto your knees, deciding to tease them a little you crawl a few feet forward. Your tiny shirts are gripping your ass, the socks are hugging your thighs just right causing two different groans to sound behind you. You turn around to face them, tucking your legs under you as you sit on your knees with your hands folded in your lap, putting on your best “good girl” face.

You look between the two men, both of their eyes eating up every inch of you. Steve looks like he’s about to combust, his cheeks are flushed and his dick is so hard it looks like it’s about to rip his shorts open at the seams. Eddie’s more calm with a cocky look on his face but the slight dusting of red on his cheeks and the way his pants weren’t looking like they were holding on much better than Steve’s gave you a tiny glimpse of that fumbling teenage boy that you fell for that night in the van.

They were still sitting on opposite ends of the couch and you wanted them closer. You weren’t exactly sure if you wanted them closer to each other or you, but preferably both.

“Okay princess, want me to show your pretty boyfriend how you like to be played with?” Eddie leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, his chin coming to rest on top of his folded hands. You wanted to bite his bare shoulders and suck his fingers into your mouth. He was so fucking hot.

“Yes, please sir.” You clench your thighs together and a whimper involuntarily leaves your mouth.

“I will baby, I’ll show him just how you like it. But first I’m gonna teach Steve how to play with me.” Eddie scoots across the couch quickly closing the distance between him and your boyfriend. His hand came to rest on Steve’s bare upper thigh. “You want that, pretty boy?”

“Yeah - yes.” Steve’s chest is rising up and down rapidly as his breath picks up, his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows and his dick twitches in his shorts. You could almost cum just looking at him. You watch as Eddie’s other hand comes up to tangle his fingers into Steve’s hair. He pulls Steve close to him, smashing his lips against his in a way that could only be described as hungry, starving even. Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s neck, pulling him closer, you see their tongues dart into each other's mouths and god this was hotter than you ever imagined.

Eddie’s hand inches up to palm Steve’s cock and you hear him moan into the kiss. Eddie palms him for a few seconds before grabbing him through the fabric causing Steve to break the kiss and throw his head back. This was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen, and even though you know from your time playing with Eddie that you weren’t supposed to touch yourself without permission, you just couldn’t help yourself.

You slide your hand into your shorts, running your fingers through your wetness before bringing them up to rub circles around your clit. Eddie shoves his hand down Steve’s shorts almost in tandem with you and it only eggs you on more. You tried to hold your moans in as best you as you could, they were so lost in each other they hadn’t even noticed what you were up to.

Eddie has Steve’s shorts pulled down enough for his cock to be on display, fully jerking him off now and the sight causes you to slip up, a small whimper escaping you.

Eddie’s eyes snap toward you and as soon as he catches sight of your hand down your shorts he fucking smirks.

“Aww is somebody getting a little worked up over there? Feeling a little left out?” He mocks pouts at you.

“I mean left out wouldn’t be the right word, I’m kind of enjoying the show if I’m being honest.” You hadn’t stopped rubbing your clit, and Eddie was still jerking Steve off like it was his job. Steve was just focusing on not cumming, between the dynamic that you and Eddie were displaying, your hands down your pants, and the speed Eddie was jerking him off he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Why don’t we give you a front row seat then?” Eddie stands to his feet, leaving an edged Steve sitting on the couch trying to catch his breath. Eddie walks over so he’s standing above you, looking down at you like prey. “Steve, get over here.”

Your eyes dart over to Steve as he walks towards you looking bashful, kicking his shorts off on the way.

“Hey baby.” You smile up at him sweetly, running your hand up his thigh, your other still rubbing tight circles over your clit.

“Hi honey.” He reaches his hand down to cup your face and runs his thumb across the apple of your cheek. “You look so pretty down there… you know I love it when you wear this.” His hand runs down your neck to your shoulder where he tugs lightly on the thin strap of your top.

You clench your hand between your thighs, rocking against it as you make direct eye contact with your boyfriend. You feel a hand in your hair jerking you the opposite direction causing your eyes to snap over to the other man in the room.

“Aren’t you guys sweet? I thought we were playing rough tonight? Also were you given permission to touch yourself?” Your hair is wrapped around his fist and he shakes your head from side to side in a taunting manner. You want him to fucking destroy you.

“No - no sir, I’m sorry.” Your hands movements pause but you don’t remove it from your shorts.

“Fuck.” Steve curses under his breath, you calling Eddie sir was doing things to him he never thought it would. He thinks he might want you to call him that one day.

“I guess you’ll just have to get yourself off while I play with Steve then? Since you wanna touch yourself so bad. You remember the traffic system?”

“Yes. Green is good. Yellow is slow down. Red is stop.” You nod your head the best you can against his grip.

“Good girl. Take your clothes off.” He releases you from his hold and turns to Steve as you hastily remove your clothes, leaving the socks on because you know it drives your boyfriend crazy. “You gonna be good for me too Stevie?” His hand reaches out to run down Steve’s broad chest, stopping just before his cock. Eddie runs the tips of his fingers across Steve’s abdomen and it makes him shiver.

“Yeah, I - uh - I’ll be good…” Steve’s face turns bright red and his breath starts to speed up again. Eddie turns to you with a fire in his eyes, spitting on his hand and bringing it to Steve’s cock, pumping him slowly.

“Okay. So here’s what’s going to happen… me and your pretty boyfriend are gonna get each other off and you don’t get to touch anyone but yourself, and then he’s going to cum on that pretty little face of yours. If you’re good, maybe I’ll give you a treat after.”

He reaches for the button on his pants, unzipping them and pulling them off in one swift motion, his cock springing out directly in your face. It makes you salivate, it’s even prettier than you remember. You want to lean forward and wrap your lips around him, you want them to both shove their cocks in your mouth as far as they will fit. But you also really fucking want them to touch you so you spread your legs further and bring your fingers back to your folds, rubbing your wetness around.

Neither of them seem to notice as Eddie takes Steve’s hand in his free one, spitting on it and bringing it to his cock. Steve lets out a groan, his hips thrusting into Eddie’s hand.

“Traffic system goes for you too, pretty boy.”

Steve nods and Eddie reaches his hand out to grab Steve’s throat, pulling him in to attach their lips. You watch as beads of precum start to drip from both of their tips, their hands jerking each other off in tandem. You reach down to insert two fingers inside yourself, your other hand joining it, continuing to rub circles against your clit.

Their moans and the way they’re grabbing each other is driving you crazy, and as much as you wish their hands were on you too the sight already had you close to the edge.

“Fucking shit, you guys are so hot.” Your moans increase in volume, your fingers speeding up as you rock against them.

Eddie breaks the kiss to look down at you, that damn smirk spreading across his lips.

“Did I say you could talk, slut?” He grips your cheeks, squishing your lips together and you whimper out a no.

“Looks like we’ll just have to shut you up then.”

He lets go of your face and brings his fingers up to Steve’s lips.

“Suck.” Steve eagerly wraps his lips around the digits, sucking greedily.

Eddie looks at him and sticks his tongue out expectantly. It takes Steve a second to catch on, the feeling of Eddie’s thick fingers in his mouth combined with how fast he was jerking his cock clouding his mind. Once he did he brought his own fingers up to Eddie’s mouth, moaning around the curly haired man’s fingers at the feeling of his tongue.

Eddie pulls his fingers from Steve’s mouth, rubbing his slick fingers against your lips. You’re quicker than Steve, taking the hint and immediately sucking his fingers into your mouth. He pulls his head back so Steve’s fingers slip out of his own mouth and your boyfriend is quicker this time, his fingers joining Eddie’s as you take all four digits into your mouth.

The feeling of your mouth being so full, the way they had started kissing loudly again above you, their hips thrusting into echoing others fists, and your own fingers pushed you over the edge. You cum hard, moaning and drooling around their fingers. You lock eyes with Steve as your orgasm crashes over you, your hips rocking against your own fingers as you moan around theirs.

“Good fucking girl, cumming for us like that. Isn’t she a good girl, Steve?” Eddie’s voice comes out a breathy groan, Steve’s hand still wrapped tightly around his cock.

“Yeah - she’s so - fuck, she’s so fucking good.” Looking at your boyfriend you can tell by the way the speed of his hips has picked up as he thrusts into the other man’s hand and the moans leaving his lips that he’s close.

You pull your fingers out of your pussy but continue to run small circles over your clit, feeling sensitive after you just came. You moan around their fingers, drool dripping down your chin and onto your chest. You wrap your lips tighter around them and roll your tongue along the bottoms of the digits causing Steve to let out a loud groan.

“You gonna cum for us baby boy? Come on, cum all over her pretty little face.” Eddie pulls his fingers out of your mouth to grip your jaw and it causes Steve’s to fall from your lips as well. His grip is strong, holding you in place while he continues to send your boyfriend closer and closer to the edge. “Stick your tongue out.”

Steve is a mess, Eddie’s hand is slick with spit and precum against his cock, you’re staring up at him with your tongue sticking out, your eyes are glazed over and Eddie’s hand looks just how he imagined it would on you, you still have drool coating your lips and chin and Steve can’t take it anymore. He cums hard, his cum coats your tongue, dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

“Holy fucking shit.” Steve groans when Eddie’s hand releases his over sensitive cock, his hands coming up to run through his silky locks. Your tongue is still out, more cum starting to slide down onto your chest. Eddie looks at you entranced for a moment before getting down on his knees in front of you, leaning down to run his tongue between your tits, stopping to lick across your chin before sucking your tongue into his mouth, intertwining it with his.

He greedily takes Steve’s cum into his mouth, moaning into the kiss.

“Mmm I just had to find out what pretty boy tastes like.”

Eddie pulls away from you, your face is in his big hands and the look in his eyes is that same one from earlier that almost takes you back to your first time with him. He was looking at you with adoration. Even though he just ate your boyfriend’s cum from your mouth, this somehow felt more intimate.

“You gonna let me fuck you now baby? While Steve watches? Just like all his little fantasies.”

“Yeah, please, please fuck me Eddie.” Your voice came out a whine and you didn’t even have it in yourself to be embarrassed about it, you weren’t above begging at this point.

“Okay, hands and knees, face the couch so Stevie has a good view while I fucking ruin his little princess.”

Steve shuffled towards the couch and took a seat on the middle cousin while you turned towards him on your knees, your back arched and your ass in the air giving Eddie the perfect view of your dripping wet pussy.

“How are you doing baby? Are you good?” You smiled sweetly at your boyfriend, who was still flushed from how hard he came minutes ago, but somehow it looked like he was already getting hard again. Steve had good stamina but this must really be doing it for him.

“Yeah honey, I’m good, great even. You look so fucking sexy. You both do.” You watch Steve’s eyes travel behind you and you can only assume he’s locking eyes with Eddie. What you didn’t see was the flustered look on his face when Steve complimented him for the first time.

You felt large ringed hands grab your ass, spreading it apart, right before you felt Eddie’s tongue dive directly into your pussy. You cry out at the sensation, knowing you would’ve felt forward if it wasn’t for Eddie's strong grip on your ass. His tongue ran circles along your clit before he took it into his mouth, sucking hard. One of his hands leaves your ass and you feel his large fingers circling your entrance before he pushes two deep inside you, immediately curling them just the right way.

“Fuck! Eddie oh my god, that’s so good fuck! That's so good.”

You start rocking back against his fingers as you open your eyes that fell closed to look at Steve, he’s almost fully hard again and he looks fucking feral. His eyes are dark and he’s biting his lip so hard that it looks like he could break the skin. He brings his hand to his cock to run his palm over his shaft, letting out a little groan at the feeling. Eddie continues licking and sucking your clit as his fingers drag against that perfect spot. You were so lost in just how good it felt, the feeling of finally having one of them touching you after waiting for what felt like hours that your orgasm snuck up on you.

“Oh my god - oh my god - I’m cumming I’m cumming fuuuuck.”

Your arms give out causing your face to hit the plush carpet but you’re too lost in pleasure to care. Eddie continues fucking his fingers into you through your high before pulling away. He looks Steve directly in the eyes as he brings his fingers coated in your wetness to his mouth, sucking them clean. You had barely come down from your high when you felt Eddie’s dick run through your folds.

“You taste even better than I remember, do you feel just as good too?” Eddie asked you as he pushed the head of his cock inside you. He pulls it out and pushes it back in a few times before shoving his cock halfway in you in one thrust. “Fuck, you feel even better than I remember.”

You know he is just trying to give you time to adjust but you can’t wait anymore, you need him inside you again. Now. You push back against him, the rest of his cock nestles deep inside you and you moan loudly at the feeling.

“Fuck Eds, you feel so good, please don’t hold back, I want you to ruin me.”

Eddie growls, grabbing onto your hips as he starts fucking into you at a brutal pace. You push back up onto your hands so you can look at Steve and he’s fully hard now, his hand wrapped around his cock as he drinks you and Eddie in. His eyes don’t know where to settle, the look on your face, the way your ass jiggles as Eddie’s hands move to grip onto it, Eddie’s hands. He could see the way his cock was slipping in and out of you and the mixture of the sounds of your skin slapping together and the sounds leaving both of you making him crazy.

“This what you wanted Steve? Just wanted to see me ruin your girl?” Eddie’s hands leave your ass, one snaking around to rub your clit and the other yanking you up by your hair so your back was flush against his chest. This new angle had him hitting deeper, his fingers slipped along your dripping pussy in tandem with his thrusts and you felt yourself already getting close again.

“Yeah this is what I wanted, it’s been better than I imagined, fuuuuck.”

You watch as your boyfriend tilts his head down to spit on his cock, his moans getting breathier. Eddie continued to pound into you, the hand in your hair coming to wrap around your throat and your third orgasm of the night hit you light a freight train.

“God damn this pussy is so fucking tight, feels so good when you clench around me like that baby, shit. Can you be a good girl and do it again for me, huh?” Eddie’s voice is rough in your ear and if he kept it up how he was going you were going to be cumming again very soon.

“Yeah - yeah I’ll be - fuuuuck oh my god! I’ll be good, I'll be such a good girl for you and Stevie wanna be your best girl.”

“Turn around, I wanna watch you when you come undone under me again.”

Eddie pulls his cock out of you and scoots back to give you room to turn around. You lay on your back and look up at him, his hair is all over the place, his eyes blown wide, there’s a sheen of sweat on his broad chest that made his tattoos almost shine. He was beautiful, in that moment you realized how much you missed this, missed him. You couldn’t help but think that you didn’t want this to be a one time thing, you wanted more. You wanted them both all the time and you almost felt greedy for it but before you had too much time to linger on those thoughts Eddie was gripping your thighs and throwing them around his hips. He takes his cock in one hand, pushing it deep into your pussy in one thrust. He resumes fucking you as hard and fast as he was before, causing your eyes to roll back.

Meanwhile Steve was going insane, he has a better view of Eddie’s cock now, it’s coated in your cum and sliding so deliciously in and out of you. But his eyes keep traveling back to Eddie’s face, he would hold eye contact with him each time, the moans Steve had been dying to hear for weeks, he was licking and biting his lips and Steve could not stop thinking about them being wrapped around his cock.

“If you want me to suck your cock pretty boy, all you have to do is ask.” Eddie smirks at Steve, he could see the way his eyes kept lingering on his lips and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want his mouth on him.

“Yeah? You sure it’s me that wants it and not you? You did say you loved guys. Prove it.”

Eddie’s thrusts momentarily falter at the tone of the other man’s voice, Steve seemed so nervous before but the way he was looking at him now made him feel like he was gonna bust.

“Come over here then.” He sticks his tongue out, his thrusts picking up again.

Steve stands to his feet, walking over to stand over Eddie. He grabs his cock in his hand and taps it on the metal head's tongue a few times before pushing it into his mouth with a groan. Eddie starts eagerly bobbing his head up and down on Steve’s cock while he continues to pound into you.

“Fuuuuuckkk, oh my god, yeah that’s fucking - that’s so fucking good.” Steve feels like he’s going to cum again already. You’re looking up at him while profanities leave your lips and Eddie’s big brown eyes are locked on Steve’s face. One of his hands comes up to cup Steve’s balls and he loses it. Grabbing two fistfuls of Eddie’s hair and shoving his cock deep into his throat.

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth, you want that? You seem like you’d be into that.” Eddie nods as best as he can and Steve takes that as the go ahead, thrusting in and out of the other man’s mouth. “You look so good baby, taking Eddie’s dick so good, look at you. Fuck! Yeah that’s so good, fuck, you’re fucking her so good. You guys are so fucking hot.”

“You guys are so hot too fuck. Fuck Eddie you feel so good, just like I remember. I want you to fuck me full, I wanna make you cum.” Eddie’s hand that isn’t on Steve’s balls comes to rub your clit and angle your hips so he’s hitting that perfect stop again. “I’m gonna fucking cum! Shit! Cum with me please please I want you both to cum with me.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” Steve shoves his cock far down Eddie’s throat, causing him to gag and the feeling sends him over the edge, spilling down his throat. Eddie pulls off his cock, turning towards you to grab your jaw.

“Open” You stick your tongue out and he spits Steve’s cum into your mouth, sharing your boyfriend's cum with each other for the second time that night. “Good fucking girl, you’re such a good girl.”

You cum the hardest you have all night, your walls clench around Eddie’s cock and the feeling sends him over the edge. Hot ropes off his cum spilling inside you he fucks you through it until his thrusts falter and he collapses in top of you. After a second rolls off of you onto his back on the ground, the feeling of him slipping out of you makes you feel empty. Steve gets down on the ground next to you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you passionately. You turn towards him, letting your fingers tangle into his hair. You get lost in the kiss for a moment and then you hear Eddie shuffle beside you.

You remove your lips from Steve’s to look over at him and he’s already standing up. Grabbing his pants and pulling them up his legs. You watch as he walks toward the chair that his shirt was laying on, and you push yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. He pulls his shirt over his head and starts walking towards the door to his shoes.

“Eddie? Where are you going? Are you leaving?” You scramble to your feet, hastily walking over to him.

“Uh - yeah? I don’t wanna linger, I'm sure you guys have shit to do.” He starts pulling his socks on his feet and you rip them from his hands.

“What do you mean linger? You want to leave?” You look at him with your brows knitted together, a pout on your lips and Eddie thinks he would give you just about anything. But you aren’t his, and he can’t stay here and watch you with Steve. Not after that, at least not right now.

“I mean, I figured this was just a one time get it out of your system kinda thing. I don’t usually stick around after hookups.” Eddie shrugged, trying to keep his face nonchalant.

“That’s all this was to you? A hookup? I thought…”

“Was it more than that to you?” His voice came out soft, almost nervous.

“I mean I was hoping we could, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.” You sighed, letting your head drop in frustration. You wanted him to stay.

“We want you to stay. If you want to. It doesn’t have to be a one time thing. I know you both don’t want it to be, and I don’t either. I might not be sneaky but you aren’t either, I see the way you look at each other.” Steve comes up behind you, his hands running up and down your arms, reassuring you with his touch.

“I - what do you even mean? You want me to be like your boy toy or something? I don’t know if I’m up for that.”

Eddie shakes his head, he can’t handle being someone you just fooled around with sometimes. He tried to shove the feelings down for so long but today just proved to him that he couldn’t just pretend he didn’t love you anymore. He also really likes Steve, he could see himself loving him one day and that terrifies him.

“No, I was thinking more like… boyfriend.” Steve wraps his arms around your shoulders pulling your still naked body against his. “That’s what you want, isn’t it baby? You want Eddie around all the time?”

“Yeah but-“

“No buts, I’m not jealous or upset, I know you love me. I want him too, I wouldn’t say anything if I wasn’t okay with it, if I didn’t want it.” He runs his nose along the side of your throat before bringing his lips up to place a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“I - uh - yeah, okay. Only if Eddie wants though.. I know he doesn’t do relationships and this is a really weird situation and-“

“Hey. Baby.” Eddie walks up to you now, taking your face in his hands. “You wanna know why I don’t do relationships? You. It’s always been you. Yeah this is a weird situation but if I get to have you? And I get to have a boyfriend with a cute little ass too? Doesn't sound too bad to me…”

“Yeah?” You look at him with a twinkle in your eye, like he hung the stars just for you, he missed you looking at him like that. He wouldn’t mind getting used to it. “How would that even work?”

“Don’t worry about that right now honey, we will figure it out together, okay? For now I think we should all get cleaned up. Take a nice shower, we can DoorDash some food and find a movie on Netflix.” Steve’s voice is soft and sweet, they are both touching you like you might break and their words make you want to cry tears of joy.

“Can I suck you guys off in the shower? When you had your fingers in my mouth I had this thought…”

“You are insatiable, there will be plenty of time for that. For now, let’s just be together. Yeah?” Eddie chuckles, squishing your cheeks playfully before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“So, you’ll stay?” You bring your hands to rest over his, nuzzling your face into his palms.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me too baby.”

“Even if it’s forever?” Steve’s voice comes from behind you and it warms your heart and soul.

“Even then.” Eddie smiles at him, pulling him in for a kiss.

You spend the rest of the night just being together, laughing and kissing, making plans and promises. It felt like the beginning of something beautiful, the beginning of forever, with your boys.

Taggies: @onegirlmanytales @taintedcigs @jamdoughnutmagician @laylaloves-ed 🖤🖤

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington smut #steddie x reader #steddie #steddie x fem!reader #Steve x reader smut

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mrschtappen · 2 months

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𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄

I : The Call of the Circuit -> II : Dreams Ignited (soon) -> III : Untitled (soon)

masterlist

Max Verstappen x Schumacher!reader

Synopsis: childhood friends Max Verstappen and you, the daughter of racing legend Michael Schumacher, evolve from best friends to fierce rivals to teammates. maybe then to lovers....?

Monday, 10th December, 2018 Faenza, Italy

You sat alone at your new office, your eyes fixed on the glowing screen of your phone. The Twitter announcement you had posted earlier that day was still causing ripples across the internet, igniting a firestorm of reactions and responses from fans and followers around the world.

As you scrolled through the flood of comments, memes, and well-wishes flooding your feed, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. The overwhelming wave of support and excitement from your supporters served as a poignant reminder of the incredible journey that lay ahead.

You made sure you turned off the lights of your new office when you were about to go. Settling inside your Audi R8, the soft chime from your phone took your attention away from driving.

As you read Max's message about bringing a Michael Schumacher merch from Germany, a wave of mixed emotions washed over you. The mention of your father's name, especially in connection with Germany, brought back vivid memories of the ski accident that had changed your lives forever in 2013.

your heart felt heavy, a subtle ache resurfacing as you recalled the challenging times that followed your father's accident. The uncertainty, the hope, and the unwavering support from loved ones, including Max, during those difficult years played like a reel in your mind.

Despite the pain and the bittersweet nostalgia, you weren't angry with Max for bringing up those memories. In fact, you felt a sense of gratitude for his thoughtfulness and the comfort of your shared history. Max had been a pillar of strength and understanding throughout your journey, and his genuine care and friendship meant more to you than any merchandise ever could.

Sitting alone in your car, you took a moment to let the emotions wash over you. You reflected on your journey and the pivotal decision to join Formula 1, a deep sense of determination and purpose filled your heart. Since you were three years old, the dream of racing in F1 had been a beacon of hope and ambition, driving you to push boundaries and defy expectations.

You knew that stepping onto the track wasn't just about fulfilling your childhood dreams; it was also a tribute to your father and the legacy he had built. The memories of watching Michael Schumacher's triumphant moments, especially his 6th championship title, had ignited a spark within you, fueling her passion and commitment to chase after her own aspirations.

Despite the challenges and the weight of the past, you felt a profound sense of gratitude and pride. You knew that your journey was a testament to your resilience, determination, and the unwavering support of those who believed in you, including Max.

Sunday, 12th October, 2003 Suzuka, Japan

As a three-year-old, you may not have comprehended the complexity of Formula One racing, the excitement buzzing in the air, the infectious energy of the crowd through the grandstands. The vibrant colors of the racing cars zooming past, the deafening roar of engines, and the flashes of cameras captured your attention, painting a kaleidoscope of sensory impressions.

Although your understanding was limited at such a tender age, the sight of Michael Schumacher, dressed in his iconic red racing suit, elicited a sense of pride and admiration within your young heart.

"That's my dad !" your little fingers pointed at the red car zooming the finish line, practically screaming at everyone as you started clapping then.

The warmth of your mother's embrace welcomed you as you cheered together, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

your eyes wide with wonder as you watched your father bask in the spotlight and as Michael Schumacher descended from the podium, triumphant and beaming with joy, his eyes sought out you, your mother and your older brother Mick in the crowd. With a tender smile, he reached out to scoop up his young daughter, lifting you into his arms and hoisting you high above the crowd.

the cameras flashed and the crowd erupted into applause, you enjoyed the attention, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world to be held in the arms of your racing hero.

The image of your bond captured for all to see, you knew that this was a moment you would cherish forever—a moment when you felt truly seen and cherished by the man who meant the world to you.

your dad, Michael Schumacher.

Saturday, 27th November 2003. Gland, Switzerland

you stepped onto the karting track for the very first time, your heart pounding with excitement and nerves. The whole family was there along with your dad's friend's family, the Vertsappens. With your tiny hands gripping the steering wheel of your go-kart, you were confused on how the whole kart operates.

"You've got this schatzi !" You heard your dad cheer for you from a distance, calling you a nickname that means sweetie in German.

Frustrated, you spoke

"How do I do this ?"

Max Verstappen, the seasoned six-year-old racer, flashed you a mischievous grin as he leaned over to offer his expertise.

"Watch and learn, little rookie. First, you gotta push down on the pedal like this..."

With a swift motion, Max demonstrated, his foot pressing down on the accelerator pedal with practiced ease. You watched intently, your eyes wide with fascination.

"Like this?"

you mimicked Max's actions, but your foot hesitated on the pedal, unsure of the right amount of pressure to apply.

Max chuckled, reaching over to gently guide your foot.

"Almost there, y/n ! You just need to press a little harder."

you nodded eagerly, determined to master the art of go-karting with Max's help.

"Got it! Thanks, Maxie !"

As you zip around the track, the conversation turned to your shared love for Formula One racing.

"Do you think we'll ever drive in Formula One, Max ?"

Max grinned, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Of course! And when we do, I'll be the world champion, then Mick and you will be my trusty sidekicks."

you rolled her eyes playfully, a giggle escaping your lips.

"Dream on, Max! I'll be the one leaving you in the dust!"

"Hey, you two ! How's it going ? " a familiar voice chimed in from behind you, causing both Max and you to turn around

Max grinned, giving Mick a playful nod.

"We're having a blast ! little rookie here is a natural behind the wheel."

you blushed at the praise from Max

"Thanks, Maxie ! And hey, Mick, I'm going to beat you someday !"

Mick laughed heartily, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Is that so ? Well, I look forward to the challenge ! Let's see who can get to formula one first"

Your banter filled the air with laughter as the three of you raced around the track, your friendship growing stronger with each passing lap. And as you crossed the finish line second, just a few millisecond behind Max, a smile grew wide on your face.

"Looks like you've got a prodigy, are you sure this is her first time ? She's a natural" Max's dad said, a chuckle escaped from your dad

You crossed the finish line just 4 tenths of a second later than someone who was 3 years older than you. You can feel the pride surging even when you were just so little.

"wow you're fast" your older brother said, giving you a high five as you returned it enthusiastically with a tiny jump

"yeah, not so bad little rookie !" Max also gave you a high five

you smile with your tiny teeths showing, your dad embraced you, lifting you up in the air

"my daughter is a soon to be formula one racer, and the world shall know you as for you are, not the daughter of a six time world champion but y/n Schumacher."

you couldn't help but feel grateful for everyone's guidance and support, knowing that with them by your side, you knew you were able to achieve anything.

Thursday, 14 March 2019 Melbourne, Australia ROUND ONE

As you took your first steps out to greet the fans, a wave of exhilaration and gratitude washed over you. The energy from the crowd was palpable, a mix of excitement, anticipation, and overwhelming support. The sight of fans waving flags, holding up banners, and wearing team colors was a surreal and heartwarming experience for you.

Walking along the barricades, you were met with a sea of merchandise bearing your name and face, along with the iconic Michael Schumacher memorabilia that fans had brought along. The presence of the Michael Schumacher merchandise added an extra layer of emotion to the moment, reminding you of the legacy you were a part of and the immense responsibility that came with it.

As you greeted fans, signing autographs and posing for photos, several fans couldn't help but comment on the striking resemblance between you and your legendary father, Michael Schumacher. Their kind words and compliments about your beauty and resemblance to your father filled you with a sense of pride and humility.

Amidst the flurry of interactions, one fan caught your attention with a cheeky remark that left both of you laughing.

you backed away with laughter, cupping your mouth, looking at a marriage certificate by an older fanboy, a good looking one you couldn't lie.

"I'm 19 !" You exclaimed, a wide laugh still visible on your face

"Maybe in a few years !" You joked, before moving to another fan, signing her cap with the number 57 on it, a number you chose to drive for.

It was media day today which means there's no driving and the press conference began with Lewis Hamilton from Mercedes, Sebastian Vettel of Ferrari, Daniel Ricciardo from Renault, Max Verstappen of Red Bull Racing and of course yourself, y/n Schumacher from Scuderia Toro Rosso.

"We’re gathered under very sad circumstances, following the news that Charlie Whiting, the FIA’s Director of Formula One died during the early hours of this morning. I’d like to start this press conference by asking each of the drivers present for their thoughts and memories of Charlie. Lewis, could we start with you, please?" Lewis spoke to the mic

"I’ve known Charlie since I started in 2007. I made some comments this morning on my Instagram. It may have not worked, as I think it’s down but obviously incredibly shocked this morning to hear the sad news and my thoughts and prayers are with him and his family. What he did for this sport, I mean, his commitment… he really was a pillar, as Toto said, such an iconic figure in the sporting world and he contributed so much for us, so may he rest in peace."

as the other drivers stated their comments regarding the passing of the late Charlie Whiting, it was your turn to answer

"How about y/n ? I believe this has come to a big shock as well as your father was also racing when he was the f1 racing director ?"

"yes, my father raced during Charlie's tenure as F1 Racing Director. I've met Charlie a few times and found him to be a wonderful person. His dedication to safety and fairness in Formula One was unmatched. Charlie's ability to connect with everyone in the paddock and his unwavering passion for the sport made him irreplaceable. My thoughts are with his family, friends, and the entire FIA community during this tough time. His legacy in Formula One will always be remembered"

as they continued tho the next question, you were shocked as to how bold and daring for this male interviewer to ask the whole lot of drivers with you

"Given the whispers around the paddock about nepotism getting y/n Schumacher this seat due to her father's legacy, and considering she is the sole female on the grid, do you drivers genuinely believe she is as competent as the other drivers, or do you acknowledge a potential gap in her skill?"

As the interviewer's words cut through the tension of the room, your face tightened, a blend of disbelief and frustration clouding your features. The weight of the question bore down on you, amplifying your discomfort and vulnerability in that moment.

You felt exposed, the spotlight glaringly bright, intensifying the scrutiny you felt as the only female driver on the grid.

Sensing your discomfort, a subtle shift occurred amongst the drivers on the panel. Eyes darted towards you, expressions reflecting concern and empathy.

Among them, Max Verstappen's gaze lingered a moment longer, his usually confident demeanor softened by genuine concern for his fellow driver.

The collective silence that followed the question seemed to stretch on, the atmosphere thick with tension. But within you, a resilient fire ignited. Drawing strength from the supportive glances of your peers and your own unwavering determination, you steadied yourself. You would not let this moment define you or shake your belief in your own capabilities.

"could we start with you again Lewis ?"

Lewis's expression tightened, clearly upset by the nature of the question.

"Honestly, I find it disappointing that in this day and age, we're still having these discussions. Women have proven time and time again that they can compete at the highest levels of motorsport. I've been a staunch supporter of women in racing, and I've seen firsthand the talent and determination they bring to the track."

"Look, in Formula 1, everyone's path to the grid is different. Yes, some of us come from racing families or have certain connections, but ultimately, talent and hard work are what count. I've faced skepticism throughout my career for various reasons, and I've always chosen to let my performance on the track speak for itself. As for y/n, she's shown promise and skill in her journey to F1. The sport is better when we have diverse talents, and I believe she deserves her place here"

"Thank you for the answer, could we move on to Vettel next ?"

Vettel's brows furrowed, eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and growing indignation. "It's disappointing, really, to hear these questions. Every driver on this grid has earned their seat through dedication, hard work, and skill. Formula 1 is a tough environment, and to suggest that anyone is here purely because of their name or gender undermines the effort we all put in. I've met y/n and seen her commitment firsthand. She belongs here as much as anyone else."

Then they moved on to Danny. His jovial demeanor momentarily shifted as he heard the interviewer's pointed question directed at you. Being someone who often exudes positivity and fairness, Daniel values meritocracy and respects the grind every driver goes through to reach Formula 1. Hearing a fellow driver being questioned on the basis of nepotism and gender struck a chord with him.

"Ah, the old nepotism and gender card. It's not a new question in F1, but it's one that misses the mark. Sure, having a famous last name might open some doors initially, but it won't keep them open if you can't deliver on track. As for being the only female driver, I think it's about time we focus on skills and capabilities rather than gender. I've had the chance to get to know y/n, and she's got talent. End of story."

Then they moved on to Max, who is known for his fierce competitiveness and straightforwardness. It was clear that he was infuriated by the audacious implication and the discomfort it caused you.

Seeing you visibly uncomfortable only intensified Max's emotions. He felt a surge of protective anger, recognizing the unfair scrutiny and challenges you faced as the only female driver on the grid. In that moment, the friendship among drivers was evident, as Max's concern for your well-being was palpable.

His eyes flashed with fury as he seized the opportunity to address the interviewer's audacious question. His voice dripped with venom as he unleashed his pent-up frustration.

"Firstly, the audacity to question anyone's place on this grid based on gender or family name is just absolute garbage. She's earned her spot on this grid through sheer talent and hard work, just like the rest of us. Anyone who suggests otherwise is either blind or just plain ignorant."

His words were sharp and cutting, each syllable laced with disdain for the backward mindset behind the question. Max's aggression was palpable as he continued to tear down the baseless accusations.

"In case you missed it, Formula 1 is about racing, talent, dedication, and hard work, not gender or who your parents are. It's disappointing to still be facing these backward stereotypes in this day and age. We should be focusing on racing and the incredible talent we have on this grid, not trying to create controversy where there isn't any . For the record, I've raced alongside her, and I've known her my entire life. Y/n is an extraordinary racer through and through, and she's proven herself time and time again."

He paused, taking a breath to temper his rising emotions before continuing,

"So, how about we focus on the actual sport instead of dredging up this garbage ?"

Max's aggressive defence reverberated through the room, leaving no doubt as to where he stood on the matter and silencing any further attempts to undermine your place in the sport.

As you listened to Max's vehement defense, a mixture of emotions washed over you. Initially, there was a sense of relief and gratitude. Max's and the other drivers' unwavering support and fierce defence of you felt like a shield against the unfair scrutiny you had faced. It was reassuring to know that your fellow drivers stood your her and were willing to call out the injustice.

Your eyes briefly met Max's intense gaze, conveying a silent thank you and mutual understanding of the gravity of the situation.

Then it was finally your turn to answer

With a poised demeanor, you addressed the room, your voice steady and confident.

"I'd like to extend my sincere appreciation to my fellow drivers for their support. It speaks volumes about the fellowship and respect we share as competitors."

Pausing momentarily, you continued with a touch of irony,

"Regarding the questions raised about nepotism and being the only female on the grid, I was under the impression that Formula 1 valued skill, determination, and performance above all else. My presence here is a testament to my commitment, capability, and qualities I believe are fundamental to every driver on this grid."

Maintaining your composure, you added, "While these questions may have been posed, my focus remains unwaveringly on racing. I am here to compete, to challenge, and to succeed, just like every other driver. I look forward to letting my performance on the track speak for itself. Besides, I don't see 19 men ahead of me, I see 19 challenges to be conquered."

With this response, you gracefully but firmly addressed the issue, highlighting your professionalism and determination to rise above the noise and excel in your chosen profession.

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pucksandpower · 7 months

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A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship

Max Verstappen x reporter!Reader

Summary: Max decides to get relationship advice from a book written in 1815 and it goes about as well as you would expect. But sometimes the wrong formula still gets the right answer

“In our modern age, when so many standards of propriety have shifted, a gentleman may find himself at a loss when attempting to court a young lady. The rules of etiquette that governed such relationships in decades past offered a framework to guide conduct and ensure all was done properly.

This humble volume intends to provide today’s gentleman that same guidance, so that he may pay suit to the object of his affection in a manner befitting them both. Within these pages, the reader will find what constitutes proper introductions, suitable topics of conversation, appropriate gifts or tokens of regard, and protocols for exchanging correspondence.

While society evolves, there remain certain courtesies that bespeak good breeding. Master these, and you shall go far in winning the hand of any respectable young lady.”

- Excerpt from “A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship” by Reginald Worthington, 1815

A gentleman must display impeccable manners, never using foul language and maintaining a calm and collected demeanor at all times.

“So Max, tell us how you’re feeling ahead of the British Grand Prix this weekend,” you ask, microphone in hand.

Max shifts in his seat, avoiding your gaze. “Uh, yeah, feeling good. The car has been quick so far this weekend in practice.”

You nod enthusiastically. As the newly appointed F1 reporter for Sky Sports, you’re eager to prove yourself in the paddock. And getting an exclusive interview with the reigning double world champion is a great start.

“You have not won at Silverstone before. Do you think you can do it for the first time on Sunday?”

“Absolutely. The team have been working hard and I think we have a good chance,” Max replies.

You glance down at your notes. “Now Max, let’s go back to last weekend in Austria. The incident with Lando on the first lap — can you walk us through what happened from your perspective?”

Max feels his face getting hot. The controversial collision is still a sore point after the race stewards penalized him. He takes a breath, pushing down his true feelings.

“Well, it was racing incident,” he says slowly. “Lando had a good start and was alongside going into turn one. It was tight between us and unfortunately we made contact.”

You raise an eyebrow. “But do you feel that you were more at fault? It seemed to be quite an aggressive move.”

Max clenches his fist under the table discreetly. Calm and collected, he reminds himself.

“Like I said, it was just racing. These things happen sometimes between us drivers.”

“So you don’t think it was an unsafe maneuver on your part?” You press. Your piercing gaze makes Max shift again.

Just stay polite, he thinks. But his frustration boils over.

“It was freaking racing, okay!” He snaps, his calm demeanor vanishing. “Shit happens! Lando didn’t leave me space and we collided. Don’t try to blame me!”

You lean back, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden outburst. Max’s heart drops, immediately regretting his loss of composure.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t mean to curse.”

“No worries, I understand it’s a sensitive topic,” you say evenly. But inside, you’re taken aback. You’ve never seen Max Verstappen react like this.

Desperate to get the interview back on track, you move to the next question. “Let’s talk about your rivalry on the track. Do you feel the tension has somewhat decreased this season as you run ahead with the championship?”

Max nods, clinging to the redirect. “All twenty drivers on the grid are competitors at heart. For sure the rivalry grows each season. Not everyone is fighting for the title so there’s less at stake for some but that can change at any moment. There is always respect between us.”

His standard PR answer seems to bore you. Glancing at the clock, you start wrapping up the interview.

“Last question, Max. Any special plans for the British Grand Prix weekend?”

“Eh, not really,” Max mutters, still kicking himself for losing his temper earlier. So much for gentlemanly manners around ladies. You’ll surely think he’s a foul-mouthed jerk now.

“Okay, I think that’s all we have time for,” you say, standing up. “Thanks again for the interview, Max, I know you’re quite busy here.”

“Yep, no problem,” Max mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

You turn to leave, but stop. “And Max? Don’t worry too much about the clash with Lando. It happens to all drivers sometimes. See you around!” You flash him a smile before exiting.

Max sits stunned for a moment after you leave. Even after his swearing and temper, you hadn’t been upset with him.

A grin slowly spreads across his face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined his chances after all!

Walking back to the Red Bull motorhome, Max can’t stop thinking about you. The way you smiled at him, so warm and understanding. And how you smelled vaguely of lavender.

Max has been captivated since you arrived in the paddock but he has no idea how to approach you … or any woman for that matter.

His only experience is with fast cars, not beautiful reporters.

Pulling up to his driver room, Max is greeted by his physio, Bradley.

“How did it go mate? You look bothered,” Brad asks.

Max sighs. “That interview with Y/N was a disaster. I screwed it up!”

He recounts his slip-up angrily cursing about Lando to Brad, who tries to stifle a laugh.

“Really, that’s what you’re worried about? A little swearing? I’m sure she’s heard far worse around the paddock!”

“But the book said to never use foul language around ladies! To be a gentleman at all times! And I failed at the first test!” Max runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Now she’ll never consider me as a suitor.”

Brad gapes at him. “A suitor? Max, what century are you living in?” He glances down and notices the antique book peeking from Max’s backpack.

Grabbing it, Brad starts flipping through the pages incredulously.

“Wait, you’re actually trying to follow advice from this ancient thing to get a girl?”

Max tries to grab the book back, his cheeks reddening. “Give it back! Yes it’s old but shouldn’t dating still be proper and polite?”

“This stuff is wildly outdated. Just ask her out for drinks. Be yourself!” Brad gestures exasperatedly.

“I can’t just ask her out, are you crazy?” Max sputters. “What if she says no?”

Brad places a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the bloody world champion. And you’re not too hard on the eyes. She’d be mad to turn you down!”

Max cracks a reluctant smile, appreciating the confidence in him. Maybe Brad is right, Max considers. He just needs to relax and stop overthinking things.

“Tell you what, the team is throwing a big party after the race on Sunday. Why don’t you invite Y/N as your date?” Brad suggests.

Max’s stomach flutters nervously at the thought. “I guess I could try ...”

Brad claps him on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about! Now hand that daft old book over so I can throw it in the bin.”

“No! I mean … I’ll hold onto it,” Max says, snatching it back.

It may be outdated but it still has some wise words, he thinks. Even if he doesn’t follow everything word-for-word, a brush up on manners couldn’t hurt.

Max feels reenergized. One mishap wouldn’t ruin his chances with you.

This weekend he would focus on winning the British Grand Prix. And then he would ask you to be his date for the after-party.

Properly, like a gentleman.

What could go wrong?

A gentleman should compose handwritten letters with eloquence and embellished language to express his sentiments, as these missives often carry great weight.

Max sits at the desk in his driver room, pen poised over a pad of stationary borrowed from the hotel.

He takes a deep breath.

My Dearest Y/N …

He pauses. How exactly does he eloquently express his feelings here? Chewing the pen anxiously, he tries again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Since first you did arrive upon the Formula 1 scene, I have been captivated by your beauty and grace ...

Max groans, crumpling up the paper. This sounds ridiculous! But the book had stressed the importance of handwritten letters to woo a lady. And with his shyness around you in person, writing a letter seemed the best approach.

If only he could find the right words.

Staring at the blank sheet of paper, Max thinks back to the British Grand Prix last weekend. He had taken Brad’s advice and invited you to the post-race celebrations as his date.

To his delight, you had happily accepted.

The party had been going perfectly. You both laughed and chatted easily over drinks. Then the DJ started playing and Max got the courage to ask you to dance. With your hand in his, bodies swaying gently together, Max was sure this was his moment to finally tell you his feelings.

But when he tried, the words tangled up inside. His throat went dry and he could only stare mute into your eyes. The song ended and the magic of the moment faded. You slipped away back to your friends, leaving Max cursing his nervousness.

Which is why he’s now resorted to writing a letter. If only he can find the right poetic phrases, he would be able to express everything in his heart.

Chewing his lip, Max starts again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Ever since you did arrive in this paddock, I have admired you from afar. Your beauty and spirit doth light up the Formula 1 world. Being in your radiant presence doth make my heart soar ...

Max frowns. He sounds like Shakespeare on steroids. This is getting him nowhere. Crumpling up another attempt, he gets an idea. He needs advice from someone more eloquent. Pulling out his phone, he selects Daniel Ricciardo’s number.

“Maxie! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Daniel answers cheerily.

“I need your help. I’m trying to write a letter to Y/N telling her ...byou know, that I like her,” Max mumbles. “But I’m struggling with the words. You’re so smooth and charming — any advice?”

Daniel laughs loudly through the phone. “A love letter mate? That’s adorable!”

Max rolls his eyes. “Haha. Yes, it’s hilarious. Do you have any tips or not?”

“Hmm okay, don’t stress too much over the fancy wording. Keep it simple and heartfelt, you know? Just speak honestly about why you like her.”

Max nods. “Right, speak from the heart. I can do that.”

“Go get her champ! Let me know if you need any more romantic advice,” Daniel teases.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Max hangs up with a smile.

Taking a fresh piece of paper, he starts writing.

Dear Y/N,

I wanted to properly tell you how I feel about you. From the moment I first saw you in the paddock, I thought you were the most beautiful and amazing woman.

Your smile makes me weak. Being near you gives me butterflies in my stomach.

Spending time together at the party was really special for me. I wish I had told you then how I felt. But I get so nervous around you that the words don’t come out right. So I thought writing this might be easier.

I know we haven’t known each other long. But I would love the chance to get to know you more. Maybe we could have dinner sometime, if you feel the same way?

Let me know.

Yours,

Max

Max reads over the short letter and nods, satisfied. It’s simple and honest, just saying the thoughts he can never seem to speak out loud around you.

So, after carefully folding the stationary, Max slips out of the Red Bull motorhome in search of you.

Max finds you chatting with some other journalists near the media center. He hangs back shyly, waiting for you to be free.

You glance up and catch his eye, giving a smile and wave. Taking a deep breath, Max approaches.

“Hi, Y/N. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course!” You say, turning to him. The other reporters conveniently scatter, leaving the two of you alone.

“So uh, I wrote you this letter.” Max mutters, pulling the folded paper from his pocket. His palms are sweating and he rubs his neck nervously. “It’s just some thoughts I wanted to share with you.”

“Aww Max, you didn’t have to write me anything!” You beam at him sweetly.

Max shoves the letter toward you, willing himself to just give it over before he loses confidence. But as you reach out for it, anxiety grips him.

What if you reject him after reading it? Or worse, what if you show the soppy love letter to your coworkersto laugh about?

His pulse pounding, Max swiftly yanks the letter back. Before he can think twice, he starts hastily ripping it up into tiny shreds.

“Max!” You cry out in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, just realized how weird it was to write you something so personal,” Max stammers, face flaming red.

He lets the shreds of paper fall from his fingers.

“Oh.” Your face falls in disappointment. “That’s too bad, I’m sure it was very thoughtful ...”

An awkward silence follows. Max curses internally, hating himself. Why had he chickened out at the last second? He scrambles for something to say.

“Yeah, it was too forward of me,” he rambles nervously. “I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea about us. Not that there is an us! I mean, we’re colleagues.”

You frown slightly in confusion. “Colleagues? I thought we were becoming friends ...”

“Right, yes friends!” Max amends quickly. “Friends is good. Don’t want rumors or gossip spreading. Not that what I wrote was gossip worthy! It was boring really, nothing important.”

He forces out a laugh, cringing at his bumbling excuse. You just stare at him in bewilderment.

“O-kay then ... well, I need to get back to work. See you around, Max.” You give him a strange look before turning away slowly.

Max watches you walk off, letting out a long groan once you’re out of earshot.

He slaps a hand to his forehead. Could that have gone any worse? He’d absolutely butchered it and now you must think he’s a complete weirdo.

Dejected, Max trudges back to the motorhome. He replays the scene in his head, berating himself over and over. If only he had the guts to just give you that letter!

Instead he had to go and make a complete fool of himself. There’s no way you have any interest in him now after witnessing that trainwreck.

Sulking back to his driver’s room, Max finds his teammate in the hallways.

“What’s up with you? You look like you just lost the championship,” Checo remarks.

Max just opens his door and flops down onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh. “I really screwed things up with Y/N ...”

He recounts the whole awkward encounter to Checo, who tries and fails to hold back laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Max snaps, tossing a scrunched up sock at him.

“Sorry, hermano,” Checo says, composing himself. “But really, I doubt it was that bad. Just explain to Y/N what happened and try again.”

“No way. It’s hopeless now,” Max moans. “I can’t face her after that.” He grabs one of the shredded letter pieces off the table, smoothing it out to reveal a fragment of his confession.

Crumpling it back up, Max tosses it aside bitterly. He definitely lost his chance thanks to his own nerves and stupidity.

Max does everything he can to avoid you over the next days, too embarrassed to face you after the letter fiasco. For your own part, you seem equally uncertain how to act around him now.

At races you keep interactions strictly professional. The ease and friendship that was developing between you is gone.

Max hates that he ruined everything before it could even really begin.

It’s not until the Dutch Grand Prix weeks later that you finally confront him.

“We should talk,” you say, catching Max alone after practice one day. “Why have you been avoiding me since Silverstone?”

Max shuffles his feet, staring at the ground. “I just made things weird with that letter. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You step closer, tilting his chin up gently so he meets your eyes.

“I thought the idea behind it was really sweet. I was so disappointed when you just ripped it up. I care about you, so don’t push me away, okay?”

Heart pounding, Max manages a sheepish nod.

You lean in slowly and kiss his cheek, pretending not to notice how his skin turns rosy.

“I’m still waiting to see what you wrote for me one day,” you whisper with a smile before walking off, leaving Max stunned.

Touching his cheek, a grin spreads across Max’s face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything after all.

The book might know a thing or two.

A gentleman should present small tokens of affection: Offering a lady flowers, a lock of hair, or a sentimental keepsake is a cherished practice.

Max paces the floor of his Monaco apartment, phone in hand as he scrolls through a website about flower meanings and symbolism.

Max clicks on the different options, overwhelmed. Who knew flowers were so complicated? Red roses mean passion but are too strong for courting. Yellow roses signify friendship. White lilies convey purity and innocence.

Max frowns. None of these seem quite right.

Finally he comes across the perfect choice — peonies. According to the guide, pink peonies signal romance, prosperity and good fortune.

Isn’t that romantic? This will be the ideal flower to to show how much he cares for you.

Satisfied with his floral choice, Max orders an impressive bouquet of pink peonies to be delivered to you before the upcoming race.

As soon as you receive them, he anxiously waits for your reaction.

To his disappointment, no thank you comes. In fact, you don’t acknowledge the flowers at all.

When Max finally spots you in the paddock on Thursday, his smile fades at your red-rimmed eyes and congested voice.

“Are you okay? You don’t look well,” Max frowns.

You give a stuffy laugh. “Thanks, just what every girl wants to hear.” Dabbing at your runny nose with a tissue, you sigh. “Sorry, I’m a mess today. Turns out I’m quite allergic to peonies. Those lovely flowers you sent put me out of commission the past two days.”

Max’s eyes widen in alarm. “Wait, you’re allergic to peonies? I had no idea, I’m so sorry!”

He mentally kicks himself. Some romantic gesture this was, practically making you ill. “I was just trying to do something nice ...” he says guiltily.

But you wave off his concern with a smile, touched that he went to such effort. “It’s really sweet of you, truly. They were beautiful. My immune system just seems to have other plans.”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets. “Let me make it up to you. What if I cook you dinner next week instead of flowers?”

Your cheeks flush slightly. “I would really like that.”

***

The following Tuesday, Max puts his meager cooking skills to use whipping up pasta. Pretty soon he has an aromatic tomato sauce simmering away while he slices bread for garlic toast.

When you arrive, bottle of wine in hand, Max greets you wearing a “World’s Okayest Chef” apron. Laughter and light banter flow easily between you two all evening. The domesticity of sharing a meal together feels wonderfully natural. Lingering glances and touches over the table make it clear this is now a proper date.

After dessert, you help Max tidy up the kitchen. Playfully flicking soap suds at each other soon turns into a full-on bubble fight. Laughing and stumbling into each other, Max ends up gently pinning you against the counter.

Your giggles trail off, smiles fading into something warmer. Slowly Max leans in, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

When you eventually pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours contentedly. No flowers or grand gestures needed.

Just this — being together.

***

Before free practice of the following race, Max seeks you out, fidgeting nervously with the small pair of scissors in his hands.

“I … I wanted to give you something special. A token of my affection for you.”

Before you can react, Max takes a lock of his light brown hair and starts snipping right there in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise as the severed strands fall into his palm.

“It’s uh, a lock of my hair. For you to keep,” he explains, holding it out to you sheepishly.

You have to stifle a laugh at how earnest he looks. “Wow Max, that’s really thoughtful but you didn’t have to cut your hair for me!”

Max’s cheeks flush pink. “No, I want you to have it! To show, you know, that I’m devoted to you and all that ...” His voice trails off at your amused expression.

Maybe this romantic gesture is a bit stranger than he realized. But you take the lock of hair from him with a gracious smile.

“Well, I’ll always treasure a piece of you.”

His grin brightens. Then he remembers the other part of his gift. “Oh wait, there’s more!”

He pulls a small oval locket from his pocket and clicks it open to reveal an empty compartment.

“I thought you could keep the hair in this locket, close to your heart,” he explains earnestly. “That way you will always have a part of me with you.”

Your eyes soften, touched by the sentiment if not the unconventional nature of his gift. But seeing how much thought Max put into it makes you melt and you give him a quick kiss.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Here, would you put the hair inside for me?”

Carefully, Max places the strands into the golden locket and fastens it around your neck, face lit up.

“So you really like it then?”

You nod, gently clasping the locket in your hand. “I’ll cherish it always.”

A gentleman should bring a tasteful gift, such as a book of poetry or a hand-painted fan, as a gesture of appreciation for her hospitality when visiting a lady’s home.

Max double checks the address on his phone as he pulls up outside your London flat. He’s visiting for the first time today and wants to make a good impression.

Max looks down at your gift on the passenger seat — a squirming bengal kitten, licking up the treat Max had brought to calm her for the car ride.

You had completely fallen for his two rambunctious bengal cats when you met them at his apartment.

“They are just the cutest! I’ve always wanted a bengal,” you had cooed as Jimmy curled up contentedly in your lap while Sassy climbed across your shoulders.

So when Max saw that the ethical breeder he bought his cats from had this spirited little kitten available, he knew she would be the perfect gift for your first proper date at your home.

A living reminder of the night your relationship began.

Scooping up the wriggling furball, Max walks up and rings your buzzer.

You greet him at the door with a smile and quick kiss, then abruptly stop short at the sight of the kitten in his arms.

“Max, what is that?”

“It’s a bengal kitten!” He announces proudly, holding her up like he is reenacting The Lion King. “I got her for you, as a gift.”

He holds the mewling kitten out to you eagerly. You stare back, mouth agape.

“You got me a kitten? Max, that’s insane!” You exclaim. “Bengals cost thousands of euros, you can’t just show up with one. Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t seriously buy me a €3000 cat.”

Max’s smile falters, realizing suddenly how over-the-top the gift seems.

“I mean, I just wanted to do something really special for you,” he mumbles, face reddening.

The kitten lets out a pitiful meow. You bite your lip, conflicted. She really is adorable. And you know Max meant well with his lavish gesture. Sighing, you open your door wider.

“Okay, I guess I can’t turn away this cutie now. Come on in.”

Max’s face lights up in relief. “You’ll keep her then? That’s amazing!”

He carefully sets the energetic furball down and she immediately starts exploring. You have to laugh as she pounces and tumbles over her paws.

“She’s going to destroy all my stuff,” you stare resignedly as she claws her way up your upholstered couch, claws snagging the fabric.

Max waves off your concern. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for anything she ruins. And I’ll make sure she can come to races too, so you’re never apart.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You think they’re going to let a kitten into the paddock?”

“Lewis brings Roscoe so they have to allow cats too or it’s not fair! Don’t worry, I will make it happen,” Max declares confidently.

Despite yourself, you smile at his determination. Gazing down at the kitten now nibbling your toe, your reservations melt away.

She really has stolen your heart already.

“Well, I guess we’re in this together now, huh little one?” You murmur. “Thank you. I think she’s the perfect gift.”

His whole face lights up at those words. Impulsively, you stand on tiptoe to kiss him.

“I think I’ll name her Emiliana,” you suggest softly. “Since she’s my special gift from Max Emilian Verstappen.”

Max grins. “I love that idea.”

Maybe Max is out of touch with normal gift-giving. But looking into his smiling eyes, you know everything he does comes from a place of love. And you wouldn’t change his thoughtfulness for anything.

Even if it means welcoming a hyperactive €3000 kitten into your life.

A gentleman should exercise prudence and restraint in the event that his family honor is insulted. Engaging in a duel must be the last resort, pursued only when all other means of resolving the matter have been exhausted.

“Who’s ready for her first race?” You coo to Emiliana, clipping a leash on to her harness. The energetic bengal kitten twirls in excited circles hearing the jingle of her collar.

Max chuckles, scooping Emiliana up. “I know you’ll love exploring the garage!” Kissing her furry head, he nestles her safely in his jacket pocket for the walk over.

Arriving at the bustling paddock, Max gently puts Emiliana down to allow her to explore, the kitten’s wide eyes reflect the flash of cameras and bright team colors swirling around. With Max’s hand securely in yours, you both smile proudly showing her off to the other drivers and staff.

Most are delighted, stopping to fawn over the curious feline. But as you pass by the Alpine motorhome, she ends up scampering across the asphalt and almost tripping Esteban Ocon in the process.

“Ugh, control your overgrown rat!” He grumbles loudly.

Max freezes, blood boiling at the insult toward Emiliana. Clenching his fists, he spins to confront Esteban. But you grab his arm firmly.

“Max, stop. He’s not worth it,” you murmur. After a tense moment, Max reluctantly relaxes his stance, not wanting to cause a scene.

You steer him away, stroking Emiliana comfortingly. “Don’t listen to the mean man, sweetie. You are perfect.”

But Max continues seething silently.

The remainder of the weekend passes uneventfully and you assume Max has let go of the unpleasant encounter. But once the race starts, you grow anxious seeing the two drivers battling unusually close together.

Sure enough, despite leading comfortably, Max slows his car to allow Esteban to catch up. Your heart drops as Max then swerves aggressively into Esteban’s side, sending him spinning off in a blaze of shredded carbon fiber. Meanwhile, Max continues on unfazed to take the chequered flag.

You’re fuming when Max finally makes his way back to the garage. Seeing your crossed arms and fiery glare, his triumphant smile fades.

“I know what you’re going to say ...” he starts guiltily.

“That you promised not to seek revenge and then deliberately crashed Esteban?” You snap.

Max winces. “Seeing him just brought back all that anger ...”

“So you decided to punt him at 200 mph?” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“I was not thinking clearly,” Max scuffs his shoe. “My temper took over again.”

Your anger melts slightly seeing Max’s remorse. With a sigh, you pull him into a tight hug. “Do you have any idea how badly you both could’ve been hurt by pulling a stunt like that?”

Max looks down, properly chastised. “You’re right, it was really dangerous what I did.”

“Not to mention nearly ruining your own race!”

“I didn’t care about losing position,” Max admits. “I have already secured the championship. Defending Emiliana’s honor was more important in the moment.”

You shake your head. “Our kitten’s honor is not worth you risking your life! Please think these things through before acting so rashly.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t thinking straight,” Max says sincerely. “I promise to be more responsible going forward. No more putting myself or anyone else in danger over petty spats.”

He hugs you close again. “Thank you for keeping me rational and safe.”

You smile up at him with a soft laugh, letting some of your tension melt away. "Someone has to.”

A gentleman should keep a strict code of chivalry: Offer your seat to a lady, hold doors, and protect her from harm, both physical and emotional.

The Singapore Grand Prix is always a grueling one thanks to the heat and humidity. But this weekend, Mother Nature seems intent on making it even tougher.

Dark ominous clouds have been building all afternoon before finally bursting open right as final practice ends. Fat raindrops pelt down rapidly, sending the paddock scrambling for cover.

Safely under the shelter of the Red Bull garage, Max keeps an eye out for you. He knows you’re stuck in the media pen finishing interviews along with the other reporters.

Sure enough, he spots your ponytail across the pen, soaked through as you attempt to shield your equipment from the downpour.

Without thinking, Max hands off his mic and races out into the rain toward you. Holding his team jacket over your head, he guides you under the shelter of a nearby awning.

“Oh my gosh, Max! You’re soaked!” You exclaim, taking in his drenched state.

But Max just shrugs it off. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Couldn’t let you get caught out there though.”

He rubs your arms briskly, trying to warm you up. Seeing you shivering in your thin blouse — now transparent from the rain — Max feels a pang of protectiveness.

“Here, let me get you something dry ...” He sprints off, returning minutes later with a Red Bull hoodie and umbrella from his driver’s room.

Bundling you up in the warm dry clothes, Max finally relaxes. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. But I wasn’t about to leave you stranded in that!”

You smile up at him, sincerely touched. “My hero! Thank you, superstar.”

Leaning up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft kiss. Max thinks that heart swells three sizes, thrilled that he was able to protect you.

As the weekend goes on, Max keeps finding little ways to display chivalry. Opening doors, giving you his seat, shielding you with umbrellas whenever the rain returns.

You assure him that the fussing is unnecessary but Max insists. He wants you to feel cared for and safe at all times.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the paddock shares that sentiment.

You’re rushing to grab some coffee before the race when you overhear a muttered conversation by a group of reporters that are huddled together.

“There she is — Verstappen’s girl ...”

“Ugh, it’s so obvious she only got the job with Sky Sports because they’re dating.”

“Sleeping her way to the top if you ask me. No way she’d be here otherwise ...”

Their cruel laughter cuts through you sharply. Blinking back sudden tears, you hurry away before they can notice you.

Of course you’ve dealt with doubters questioning your skill and merits before. It’s an occupational hazard as a woman in motorsport.

But having your relationship with Max twisted in such a way stings deeply.

Arriving at the grid, you paste on a smile and try not to let the nasty remarks ruin your day. You have always had to work twice as hard to prove yourself and you were not going to give up now.

But Max notices that something is off immediately. And, when you keep avoid his concerned gaze, he gently presses for answers.

“What’s wrong, liefde? And don’t say nothing,” he adds, seeing you open your mouth to brush it off.

You sigh, reluctantly telling him about the reporters’ hurtful comments. Instantly Max’s jaw tightens, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Who said that? Point them out to me.”

You hesitate, not wanting to cause a scene. But Max takes your hand firmly.

“I won’t let them get away with questioning your integrity like that. It’s unacceptable.”

So you subtly point out the gossiping reporters huddled nearby. Max’s gaze darkens. Turning on his heel, he marches straight for the media center.

By the time you catch up, he’s already deep in a terse conversation with Formula 1’s head of communications.

You watch in astonishment as the offenders’ media access is promptly revoked despite their loud protests. But Max stands firm, insisting this is non-negotiable if he is expected to keep participating in his media duties.

When he finally returns to you, his anger has melted away into concern. “I’m so sorry you had to hear their garbage. Don’t ever listen to it, okay? You are brilliant at what you do.”

Your eyes well up again but this time from gratitude. Even during the pre-race chaos, Max made defending you his top priority.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly. “My knight in shining racing gear.”

Max just holds you close, wishing he could shield you from all harm. Because your happiness and comfort are paramount to him. And Max will gladly take on any dragon — or unscrupulous reporter — that dares to threaten that.

With Max by your side, ready to come to your aid in rain or shine, you know everything will be okay.

A gentleman should always be well-dressed in the latest fashions and ensure that his cravat is tied to perfection.

Max frowns down at the open suitcase on his bed, clothes strewn everywhere. He’s digging through the wardrobe he packed trying to find something stylish to wear for the United States Grand Prix.

The problem is, Max has no idea what the latest fashions even are. Jeans and a team-branded shirt are his staples both on and off the track. But he needs to make more effort for you.

Sifting through his options unsuccessfully, Max sighs. There’s nothing here that screams high fashion. He would have to do the unthinkable and ask advice from someone … like Lewis Hamilton.

Max cringes at the thought of approaching his rival for fashion help. But Lewis is always complemented for his outfits so he is clearly an expert on the subject.

Swallowing his pride, Max fires off a text before he can overthink it.

To his surprise, Lewis responds enthusiastically with suggestions and styling tips. Their competitive rivalry is momentarily forgotten as the veteran driver dedicates all day to helping Max looking sharp.

Arriving at the paddock on Thursday morning, Max scrutinizes his reflection anxiously while scanning his pass. He’s wearing slim-fitting distressed jeans with a silky patterned shirt that Lewis instructed was to be left half-unbuttoned.

Definitely way flashier than his normal attire but Lewis assured him it was very on-trend. So Max takes a deep breath and heads out to find you.

Your eyes widen in surprise taking in his dramatic style overhaul. “Whoa, look at you!”

Max preens a bit, relieved that you don’t seem to be put off by his bold fashion choice.

“I figured it was time to elevate my fashion game,” he spins cheekily to show off the full look.

You have to stifle a laugh at seeing straight-laced Max suddenly dressing like a runway model after fans used to be shocked to see him in anything other than a white shirt.

It’s certainly different but cute that he’s putting in so much effort for your relationship.

As the weekend continues, so does Max’s parade of high fashion outfits. He turns up looking like he stepped off a catwalk in trendy printed shirts, embroidered jackets, and even sequined trousers.

By Sunday, the dramatic style transformation has paddock tongues wagging. Max appears entirely oblivious to the gossip though, just happy that his attempts to impress you seem to be working.

But watching him awkwardly fidget with the billowing oversized silk sleeves of today’s shirt as he tries to focus on preparing for the race, you realize that this isn’t your Max. Not really.

Catching his eye, you gesture for him to join you out of earshot and away from the view of cameras. Gently taking his hands, you meet his gaze.

“Be honest with me, what’s going on with the makeover? This isn’t like you at all.”

He ducks his head with a sheepish smile. “I just wanted to dress nicely for you this weekend. Like a proper gentleman.”

You lift his chin until he’s looking at you again. “You don’t have to try and be someone else for me. I like you for you — jeans, team kit, and all.”

Max’s shoulders relax in relief. “Yeah?”

“Of course! Please don’t feel like you ever have to change.” You lean up to kiss him softly. “Now let’s get you into some racing gear, champ.”

A gentleman should know that prolonged eye contact is a powerful tool for conveying one’s intentions.

“So Max, I have to ask about the incident with Carlos last race. Do you think your aggression was over the line?”

You fixes Max with an inquisitive gaze, microphone poised as you wait for his response. But instead of answering, he just stares back intensely without blinking.

After a long awkward pause, you shift in your seat. “Uh, Max? Did you hear my question?”

“Hmm? Oh right, yeah. It was just racing, these things happen,” he says vaguely, eyes never leaving yours.

You move on to the next question, puzzled by his distracted behavior. Throughout the interview, Max continues gazing at you unwaveringly.

It’s a bit unsettling to have him stare so fixedly without looking away.

Finally you wrap up the stilted conversation, feeling relieved to escape his laser focus. What was up with that?

Over the weekend, you catch Max staring silently at you on numerous occasions — in hospitality, on the grid, across the garage. Without blinking or looking away, he’ll fix you with that powerful gaze until you flush and look away first.

By Sunday you’ve gotten used to the drawn out m moments of extended eye contact.

But during the post-race press conference, Max cranks it up a notch. As you ask Charles a question about the race, you feel Max’s eyes boring into the side of your face. Glancing over, you nearly fumble your recorder.

He’s just ... staring. Blatantly. Right at you as you’re trying to have a professional conversation.

The other drivers keep sneaking amused looks between you two and trying to hide their snickers.

You finally wrap up hurriedly, flustered by Max’s unrelenting eye contact. As the rest of the press file out, you hang back.

“So the whole staring thing ... we’re really doing that huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

Max has the grace to look sheepish. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to throw you off! I’ve just been trying to connect with you even more.”

You have to stifle a laugh imagining him sternly holding his own gaze in a mirror for practice. “I could tell! But maybe dial it down a little bit during interviews?”

Rubbing his neck, Max chuckles. “Yeah good call.”

He’s quiet for a moment before meeting your eyes again, this time softer. “I do like the way it makes me focus just on you though. Like the rest of the world fades away.”

“Yeah,” you duck your head, “I like that part too.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. Reaching out, he gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

When Max leans in, eyes fluttering closed, you let yourself get lost in the moment. The outside world disappears and all that’s left is his lips on yours, saying more than words ever could.

A gentleman should never speak of his own accomplishments or wealth in a boastful manner, instead let your actions and character speak for themselves.

“Liefde, have you seen my phone charger?” Max calls from the living room of his apartment. “Nevermind, found it!”

He grabs the charger off of the coffee table, narrowly avoiding knocking over the World Drivers’ Championship trophy displayed prominently in the center.

You stifle an amused smile as you enter. Ever since you jokingly teased Max about being humble, he has made his accomplishments strangely hard to ignore.

Like the fact that his trophy room door now mysteriously stays wide open whenever you’re over. Or how he keeps offering for you to take Air Max whenever you need to travel instead of flying commercial. It’s his unique way of bragging without actually saying a word.

Joining him on the sofa, you have to shoo away one of the cats that is trying to swat the trophy off the table. Max just grins.

“Sassy really loves that thing! Although I guess I can’t blame her, it is very shiny.”

You laugh, curling into his side. “It certainly seems to belong front and center lately. Along with your three championship-winning helmets on the table in the foyer.”

Max attempts an innocent look that doesn’t quite stick. “What? They’re nice decorative pieces!”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. Glancing around, you note magazine covers bearing his face displayed on the walls along with a framed race-worn suit hanging randomly next to the kitchen.

Meeting his eyes, you give him a knowing look. Max holds your gaze for a moment before cracking.

“Okay fine, I may have highlighted some ... accomplishments since your little humble comment,” he admits with a sheepish grin.

You have to laugh. “Max, you know I was just teasing you! I would never want you to downplay your achievements.”

Twisting to face him, you take his hands in yours. “You’ve worked so hard for everything you have. Please don’t feel like you can’t be proud about it.”

Max’s expression softens. “I know and I am really proud of my racing success.” Glancing around the trophy-filled apartment, he chuckles. “Maybe a bit too loudly recently.”

You lean in to kiss him tenderly. “I love you and I’m so proud of you. But it’s this,” you tap his chest on top of his heart, “This is what made me fall for you, not the jet or the trophies.”

“Yeah?” Max asks, eyes crinkling happily.

You snuggle into his shoulder. “Of course. You’ll always just be my Max.”

But then the gifts start arriving. An Hermes Birkin bag here … some Van Cleef jewelry there. Presented nonchalantly but you know that their extravagance is no accident.

Finally, you have to say something when a couture Chanel gown appears in your hotel room one day.

“What’s going on with all these gifts all of a sudden?” You ask gently.

“Nothing! I just want to treat my amazing girlfriend the way she deserves to be treated.”

You raise an eyebrow and look … and look … and look … until Max cracks. “Okay fine, I may have been trying to show off a bit,” he admits. “But it’s hard not to when I want to give you the world!”

Your expression softens. Taking his hands, you wait until he meets your eyes.

“You could give me plastic rings and clothing from the thrift store and I would be just as happy. Your love means everything to me, not material things.”

“Really?”

You nod and climb into his lap to connect your lips in a slow kiss. Pulling back, you add teasingly, “But I am keeping the dress.”

He laughs, all tension vanishing. “Of course, it will look incredible on you. Like everything does.”

A gentleman should demonstrate a willingness to adapt to a lady’s interests and preferences, cultivating shared hobbies and passions.

“Here we are!” You announce, gesturing at the entrance of the padel club. “I know you’ll love this. It combines the best parts of tennis, squash, and racquetball.”

Taking Max’s hand, you lead him inside eagerly. You’ve been trying to get him to try padel, your favorite hobby, for ages. Finally convincing him to play while visiting him in Monaco, you do a quick rundown of the rules in the locker room.

“So basically we score just like in tennis but the walls and mesh are also in play. You can use them to bounce shots off of strategically,” you explain, miming hitting the ball off the glass wall.

Max nods along, game face on. He’s determined to share your passion for this sport.

“Got it. Use the walls, beat the opponents, win the match,” he summarizes confidently.

You laugh. “Pretty much! Now let’s go kick some butt out there.”

Gripping your paddles, you head onto the slick court. Max gravitates right to the mesh wall, intrigued by the unique setup.

You have to hide your grin — he’s like a kid exploring and testing shots out eagerly. His competitive nature means that he is completely engrossed within minutes.

And Max certainly has a knack for padel. His fast reflexes and coordination transfer over as he adapts his technique. Soon you’re both moving seamlessly around each other, dominating the points against a random couple Max had convinced to play against the two of you.

Hours later, sweaty but exhilarated, Max slings an arm around you grinning.

“That was epic! This is such an awesome game, I can’t wait to play more.” His excitement makes your heart swell. Nothing better than sharing your interests with someone special.

Over the next weeks, you find any excuse to play padel together. On lazy mornings, Max coaxes you out of bed. During race weeks, you even manage to squeeze in a few matches after media day.

Soon Max transforms into a padel fanatic, always scouting new courts and competition. His dedication to mastering every shot warms your heart. And the silly trash talk and celebrations make every match so much fun.

It was no surprise when Max decided to organize a players tournament between races. Getting the other drivers involved had your makeshift paddock league battling it out.

“Here for the padel party!” Daniel crows, showing up in head-to-toe tennis gear.

Charles, Carlos, Lando, and Pierre are there too, warming up their swings. You help Max demonstrate the rules, the other guys teasing him good-naturedly about his new obsession.

Once play begins though, the intensity heats up quickly. Max’s laser focus kicks in as he charges around you protectively, looking to crush anyone who dares hit near you. Luckily you hold your own plenty well too against the drivers.

When the final point is called in your favor, Max tackles you in an exuberant hug, the guys applauding around you. Grinning and flushed with exertion, you all head inside to refuel and celebrate a fun day of sport and competition.

One padel date turned into a shared passion that bonded you both with the other drivers too. And seeing your smile reflecting Max’s own euphoric one, you know this is only the start of many joyful tournaments and casual games together.

Maybe Max went a bit over-the-top in his newfound padel fever. But his willingness to dive headfirst into your interests fills you with more love than you ever thought possible.

Having someone care enough to enter your world so fully and share the things that light you up — that’s the most meaningful gesture of all.

A gentleman should learn to play a musical instrument or be a connoisseur of music, as serenading a lady can be a charming expression of affection.

Max turns the acoustic guitar over in his hands, plucking experimentally at the strings.

With your birthday coming up, serenading you seems like the perfect romantic gesture. Now he just has to actually learn how to play this thing. It seems simple enough — how hard can the guitar really be?

Max starts pressing on the strings randomly, the resulting discordant notes making him wince.

Okay, this might take some work.

Pulling up a beginner tutorial on his phone, he starts practicing the basic chords. But his fingers fumble clumsily, refusing to contort into the proper shapes. The more he tries, the worse the mangled sounds get.

Frustrated after the thirty minute lesson yields little improvement, Max sighs. “How am I supposed to woo my girlfriend with music if I can’t even play a damn C chord?”

Time for a professional to step in. Max books lessons with a private guitar instructor, determined to nail this down in time for your birthday surprise.

At the first lesson, the instructor eyes Max’s hands critically. “Right, let’s start by getting your fingers conditioned ...”

He takes Max through various stretching and dexterity exercises to limber up. Max nods along dutifully until the instructor pulls out a contraption with rubber bands and metal prongs.

“What the hell is that thing?” Max asks warily.

“A finger strengthener — we need to work on your independence and stamina,” he explains matter-of-factly, fitting the device over Max’s hand.

Max grimaces as the rubber bands strain against his fingers. The instructor just nods approvingly. “Perfect, twenty minutes per day with that.”

By the end of the torturous lesson, the only progress Max has made is identifying the parts of the guitar. He’s nowhere close to actually playing.

Max leaves discouraged but even more motivated to conquer the instrument somehow before your birthday. He continues meeting with the instructor multiple times a week, practicing rigorously outside of lessons too.

You notice his new habit of constantly stretching his fingers but Max plays it off casually not wanting to spoil the surprise.

The week before your birthday, Max has made marginal improvements but is still far from properly playing full songs. Desperate, he invites the instructor over for one final intensive lesson.

After two grueling hours of relentless drills, the instructor throws his hands up. “I’ve never had a student struggle this much with guitar basics. Maybe we should consider something easier, like the triangle or a recorder ...”

“No!” Max interrupts forcefully. “The guitar is a classic romantic instrument. I just need more practice before her party tomorrow.”

The instructor sighs. “If you say so. Just keep working on your fretting transitions and we’ll hope for the best.”

After he leaves, Max stays up late into the night strumming determinedly. By your birthday, his fingers are sore and calloused within an inch of their lives. But he can semi-confidently stumble through a love song and that’s enough for tonight.

When the moment arrives, he takes a deep breath and begins gently playing the intro to “Thinking Out Loud,” ready to serenade you. Max makes it halfway through before the chords descend into choppy noise.

You still applaud enthusiastically after, smiling ear to ear. “That was amazing, my love! Thank you so much.”

Max ducks his head bashfully. “It still needs some work. But I’m glad you liked it.”

Laughing, you take his tortured hands and kiss each fingertip. “I loved it because it came from you. That’s all that matters to me.”

Warmth blooms in Max’s chest. No matter how imperfect, you appreciated his efforts because of how much heart he put into it just for you.

In the end, no amount of lessons could transform Max into a virtuoso overnight. But he did become accomplished in one universal language — love.

And at the end of the day, that means everything.

A gentleman should recognize and appreciate a lady’s accomplishments, whether in the arts, charity work, or society.

“So Max, what are your thoughts on taking pole position here in Brazil?” The reporter asks.

Max grins into the mic. “Yeah, feels great to put it on pole here. The team has done an amazing job dialing in the car.”

He pauses and then adds, “Of course my girlfriend Y/N also put in a stellar qualifying effort yesterday covering the action for Sky Sports. Her commentary is always so eloquent and insightful.”

The reporter smiles amused as Max continues raving about your on-air skills for several minutes before remembering to refocus him on the results of the actual qualifying seasion.

This has become a familiar trend lately in Max’s interviews. No matter the question, he manages to redirect the conversation to highlight your various talents.

“... our pace was really strong today, I think we will be able to keep the top step tomorrow. Oh, speaking of strong pace, Y/N just ran a personal best 5k time last week during training ...”

In team debriefs, the same thing happens. Engineer queries about race strategy are derailed into praise about your presenting skills. PR reps trying to discuss Max’s social media posts somehow end up hearing about your recent venture into pottery making instead.

Even in casual conversations, you come up constantly.

“Morning, Max! How are you today?” His trainer asks while spotting a weight lifting session.

“Doing great! Y/N is also doing great, she’s learning Dutch and picking it up so quickly. Have I mentioned how talented she is with languages?”

By now the whole paddock is highly familiar with your many accomplishments, since Max seizes every possible opportunity to spotlight them.

You find it rather endearing, if a bit silly at times. Like when Max commandeered an entire interview just to detail the charities that you volunteer with.

“You know I’m capable of mentioning my own accomplishments if they come up naturally, right?” You tease him later.

Max looks sheepish. “I know, I just like bragging about you! I’m really proud of everything you do.”

You soften, giving him a quick kiss. “That’s really sweet. But maybe tone down the constant spotlight a little?” You suggest gently.

“Noted,” Max chuckles.

He makes an effort after that to highlight your achievements only when truly relevant. Because while he could praise you all day, Max also respects your wishes.

And he realizes you don’t need him to validate your worth — your talents speak for themselves. But he still can’t resist sharing little proud snippets whenever your accomplishments come up organically.

Over time you appreciate Max’s admiration and support more and more. Having someone so genuinely invested in all aspects of your life is incredibly touching.

Maybe he goes a bit overboard in his praising sometimes. But knowing that Max is always your biggest cheerleader, when it comes to racing coverage or otherwise, means everything.

A gentleman should seek the permission of the lady’s father or guardian before proposing, demonstrating respect for her family and social conventions. Once granted, he should choose an intimate setting for the proposal, away from the public eye. He must then express his intentions with sincerity, dropping to one knee and presenting a ring as a symbol of his commitment.

Max takes a deep breath, fidgeting with the small velvet box in his pocket. Today’s the day — he’s going to ask your father for permission to marry you.

You’ve reassured Max time and time again that your dad loves him but that does nothing to settle his nerves as he knocks on the front door of your childhood home.

When your father welcomes Max inside warmly, he relaxes slightly. Clearing his throat, Max launches into the speech he prepared.

“Sir, I’ve come today because I want to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. We have been together for years now and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, completely committed to her happiness. She is the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

Max pauses, blushing. “Sorry, I had this whole thing planned out better. I guess what I’m asking is — may I have your blessing to propose to Y/N?”

Your dad grins, clapping Max on the shoulder. “You know you didn’t have to be so formal about this. I already see you as part of the family.”

Max smiles bashfully. “I just wanted to show my respect for you and Y/N. Your blessing would mean a lot to me.”

“You have it absolutely. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for her than you.” He pulls Max into a hug. “Welcome to the family, son.”

Max leaves on cloud nine, thrilled to have this traditional step done right. Now on to planning the perfect proposal location away from prying eyes ...

After scouring options, Max selects a peaceful mountaintop in the Swiss Alps. Complete with luxury chalet just for the two of you — intimate but romantic.

Max painstakingly decorates it with flowers, candles, and photos of your relationship throughout the years. For the ring, he chooses two large natural diamonds in an unique asymmetrical setting, symbolic of two imperfect halves making a flawless whole.

Now fully prepared, Max just has to wait for your upcoming vacation to pop the question. He spends the days leading up to it buzzing with nervous excitement.

The helicopter ride to the mountain is pure torture for him. What if you say no? What if he fumbles the proposal speech? Endless doubts race through Max’s mind.

But as soon as he sees your delighted smile taking in the warmly lit cabin, his anxiety melts away. This evening is about letting his heart speak.

Through a private chef-cooked dinner, your laughter echoes in the chalet just like it always sounds. Full of joy and life and love.

Max knows that he’s ready.

Taking your hand gently, he leads you outside onto the moonlit balcony. Time to finally ask you to be his forever.

Max clears his throat, meeting your eyes. “Y/N, from the moment I met you, my world changed. Your smile and your light fill my days with meaning. You make me a better man.”

He slowly kneels, pulling out the ring box with trembling fingers. “I want to laugh with you, cry with you, share every high and low for the rest of our lives. Will you make me the luckiest man in the universe by becoming my wife?”

You clasp a hand over your mouth, eyes glimmering with tears. You only manage to get out a watery “Yes!” before also dropping to your knees in front of him.

Grinning ear to ear, Max slides the ring onto your finger with a kiss. “I promise to always love and cherish you.”

“And I promise the same to you, today and always.”

You throw your arms around him, both giddy with joy under the stars.

The customs that got you to this moment may have been old-fashioned but your love is timeless.

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arieslost · 10 days

Note

reader and little leclerc meeting at a karting comp when they were tiny and growing up charles developed the fattest crush on the reader but only later in his f1 career does she find out. not from charles himself but from carlos who ‘accidentally’ slips up and mentions it

i’m assuming by little leclerc u meant arthur so i hope i was correct 🤞🏼🤞🏼

crush | cl16

you always thought charles leclerc had some sort of underlying hatred for you, even though he was nothing but kind to you every time you interacted. maybe it was the way he’d always look at you with what you could only describe as a pained expression, like it hurt to even be in your presence.

not that he had much choice, considering you’d been racing with his brother arthur since the beginning of time.

it never evolved into a career for you, but having formed such a close bond with arthur, as well as the rest of the leclercs, you stuck around. you remained a close friend even after arthur was promoted to single seater racing and you never left karting, not until their father passed and you dedicated all of your time and effort to comforting the family and helping however you could. eventually, that evolved into you working for ferrari in pr and other various communications a year after charles signed to ferrari.

wherever a leclerc was, you were bound to follow.

which leads you to now, having landed in imola a few days before most of the team (including the drivers) to coordinate interviews, filming, photography… the list is endless sometimes, but you love your job. even more so when you’re given the privilege of briefing the drivers on what to expect for the day.

except for the fact that charles comes in and sits down without sparing you so much as a fleeting glance.

that’s how your suspicions had started— when he stopped looking you in the eye. it used to be you who was intimidated by eye contact, those green eyes of his never failing to make your cheeks heat up. but eventually you got over it, and one day you fixed him with a brave stare that left him unable to mask his surprise. and then he stopped looking at you. then the incoherent mumbling started, then the abrupt “i have to go” in the middle of a conversation. you never understood why he was acting the way he was. you still don’t.

“good morning, querida,” carlos greets you smoothly as he enters the room, and you swear you see charles’ brows furrow for a split second.

“good morning,” you smile at him, chancing a look at charles, who is still deeply engrossed in whatever’s on his phone. “there’s a decent amount of things i want to go over with you guys, so i really need you to pay attention.”

you went through the itinerary, pausing every now and then to make sure both drivers were paying attention. charles had shut off his phone, but he was still looking anywhere else but at you. when you caught his eye upon glancing upwards, he looked down at his lap like you had told him he massively screwed something up.

you’ve often thought about confronting him, but to be honest, you could never really come up with a solid reason to do so. if he didn’t want to look at you, that was more his problem than it was yours.

“okay, i think that’s all i have for—” you’re not even finished with your sentence before charles is uttering a hasty “thanks” and rushing out the door.

“you’d think he would’ve caved and told you by now,” carlos muses when the door clicks shut, shaking his head.

“told me what?”

“you know,” carlos begins, rising from his seat, “that he’s madly in love with you.”

“what?!” you exclaim.

“oh, dear,” he continues dryly. “did i say that out loud?”

“carlos sainz, so help me—”

“you’ll have to excuse me, i don’t want to be late to the media pen,” he interrupts, making to leave as well. “i suggest confronting him, that’s probably the only way to get him to talk.”

your opportunity comes after the free practice sessions the next day, where you manage to corner charles as he’s leaving his driver room.

“is it true? do you—” you want to say love me, but the words just won’t come out. they feel too intimate. “do you have feelings for me, charles?”

he opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to respond. “you won’t look at me, you barely talk to me anymore, and it feels like you hate me. so honestly, just tell me anything other than saying you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you,” he says immediately. “not at all— why don’t you come in so we can talk? i don’t want to have this conversation knowing someone with a camera could come around the corner.”

fair point. you allow him to guide you into his driver room, watching as he shuts the door behind him.

“who told you?” he asks.

“carlos. in a weird, unnecessarily cryptic way.”

“classic carlos,” charles huffs, raking a hand through his hair.

“is it true?” you repeat quietly, beginning to fear his answer.

he looks at you. “what if it was?”

“charles—”

he interrupts you now. “i can’t look at you because every time i do i think about how much i want you. i look at you and i wish more than anything that i could hold you, kiss you, make you laugh. things just haven’t been the same since… since papa.”

you reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly in your own.

“and eventually i just couldn’t talk to you, because if i did, everything i want to say would come out… like it is right now,” he smiles shyly.

you never thought you could make charles leclerc shy.

“anyway, i like you. a lot.” he declares, taking on a confident tone. “i’ve had a crush on you for a while, and i’m sorry that it manifested as something else. i don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“maybe…” you begin slowly, watching his eyes light up. “maybe you could take me out.”

he smiles widely, squeezing your hand. “i think i can make that happen.”

“good. i’ll be waiting for your call.” you lean up, pressing a brave kiss to his cheek before exiting the room.

the blush creeping over his cheeks stays imprinted on your mind for the rest of the day. it won’t be the last time you see him that way.

word count: 1,041

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was such a cute request. i hate the ending (when do i not, honestly) so if this flops it’s fully my fault

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo @ahgase99 @ferrarisfailedstrats @levidazai @brune77e @watersquirtpewpewboomm

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mariinaworld · 2 months

Text

Stay with me

Gp!Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Summary: After a mission together, Natasha thinks it's time to talk about how she really feels (I'm terrible with summaries sorry)

WC: 2,4k

Warnings: SMUT, masturbation, riding, unprotected sex, Nat has a penis

MINORS DNI. Masterlist N.R

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

It’s 1am, the loud sound making your ears twitch and certainly missions where you have to seduce an arms dealer tycoon to get information not your favorite . You're now sitting on some mob boss's lap or something, the only thing you're thinking about is when is this guy going to drop something that will actually help you.

You feel hands running down your thighs and waist and you force yourself to smile and pretend you're loving all this attention, he kisses your neck while talking to another guy. You puts on her best innocent girl face who has no idea what they're talking about.

Looking around the room you can feel a pair of green eyes practically devouring you, the way Natasha is, she seems to be one step away from doing something crazy to get this guy to get his hands off you.

His relationship with Natasha has always been marked by ups and downs. He started with small flirtations, It evolved into big make-out sessions when no one was around, until you started being friends with benefits.

This was never something you liked very much, but you were already madly in love with the redhead and you decided that having her in the early hours of the morning would be better than not having her at all.

Natasha is a mysterious person, sometimes she just wants rough sex, pushing your head on the pillow and fucking you for as long as she can. But sometimes all she wants is laying your head on your chest to talk about things and it leaves you confused because every time you try to talk about feelings she just cuts you

The last time you tried to talk to her about feelings it didn't work out very well and you ended up drifting apart, so being on a mission alone with Natasha is worrying to say the least.

You come back to reality when you finally managed to hear the information you needed, all you had to do was find out the place where a big weapons transfer would be made and it was which was achieved. You look at Natasha who is already staring at you.

You slide off the man's lap and he doesn't seem to even notice you leaving, you walk over to the redhead and discreetly tell her that I got the information. Without wanting any more time in that place, you and the redhead immediately leave that nightclub.

The two of you decided to stay one more night in the small hotel you were staying in, just to see if something else wouldn't happen. The whole way to the hotel was silent and uncomfortable and just imagining that you will have to share another night in bed with the redhead leaves you with shivers.

After you both go to bed, a silence falls between you two, you know you want to talk but neither of you has the courage to start a conversation.

“You seemed very comfortable in that pig's lap" Natasha says and you can feel the jealousy coming out of her. "Oh please, he smelled like old clothes and mold" you say frowning and Natasha thought cute the way your nose wrinkled when talking about the man

“What are you laughing at?" You say, turning to look at the woman and seeing her side profile. "Your accent comes out when you talk like that, you know? It's cute." And there it is again, Natasha who says nice things and it's completely fascinating.

You stay silent again, you need to talk but no one knows what to say first.

“Y/n…”

“Nat…”

You say at the same time, you ended up laughing and letting her talk. " You can talk.”

“I never wanted you to think it was just an affair for me, I admire you and everything you do is perfect. I love the way you try and I love the way you help people and do everything to achieve your dreams and believe me, I would do everything in my power to make them come true because you are my biggest inspiration. I never saw the need to be romantically with someone, for me love was for children and I never felt…”

Natasha took a deep breath and you knew she was doing a lot by opening up to you.

“I've been sexually with some people but I've never felt the need to have them in my life for more than one night. It turns out that with you I felt the need to have you, not just sexually, but I want to protect you and take care of you and help you because I love you.”

You are left speechless, that was all you wanted to hear from Natasha, all those words were much more than you imagined she could say.

You wanted to show Natasha that you also felt this, that you also felt scared and that you also felt this strong feeling and that you loved her too.

With these thoughts you decide to make a bold decision

Natasha seemed surprised and scared when you kissed her, but she held onto your hair without hesitation, sighing on your lips.

There was no language or eroticism, but it was enough to confirm your feelings that had been kept secret for so long.

For Natasha sex was just sex

Foreplay, penetration, orgasm

After that, everyone would leave and never see each other again.

Natasha can say, without error, that you were the first person she had truly kissed with tongue and mutual desire in years. In addition to awakening her most sincere desires. Natasha felt that being with you was something special, new and pure.

Natasha doesn't know if what surprised her most was that you took the initiative in the kiss or the speed at which it evolved.

Natasha thought it felt good to feel your lips on hers and your tongue play with hers. You kiss as if you both miss it, even though you've done it many times before and the last one not long ago.

Without realizing it, the kiss became stronger and more sensual as time passed. Natasha's hands go to her hips, wanting to deepen what they are doing even more. Hear your soft moans against her lips made her wake up from her trance

Natasha doesn't want you to think she said all that just to get you into bed.

“Y/n…” Natasha says, moving slightly away from you, wanting to hide all the desire and excitement she was feeling.

“I don't want to stop" you realize what she's thinking, your eyes meet hers and give her all the confidence she needed.

“We're two grown women Nat, you made a mistake and you apologized and it's not like I was totally right in ignoring you" Natasha's hands are still on her waist

“This is what you want?”

“that's what I want Nat.”

You made a quick path to Natasha's lap and Natasha sighs heavily when a movement of her hips brings yours intimacy into contact. Natasha knows that the movement wasn't accidental by the way you smile during the kiss, proud of the reaction she got from the redhead.

You have always been a calm person and Natasha never imagined that you would have such a bold attitude and this made Natasha anxious for the next step. Natasha takes a large part of your ass, squeezing it between her fingers and smiling.

When our air escapes, Natasha lays you on the bed, getting on top of you and attacking your lips once again. Everything is done quickly.

Her hands roam your body and her lips change their way to your neck when the air runs out once again..

In a hurry, the redhead simulates a penetration movement, causing their sexes to brush against each other once again. Even with the impediment of the pieces of clothing, Natasha feels her body hot when doing this

"Do it again” You ask

“I’ll do it… but I don’t want anything to get in my way this time.”

You understand what she means and give her the necessary consent to act. Natasha sits on the bed, taking off her pajama bottoms with your help..

When Natasha grabs the hem of your blouse, you shake your head in denial, asking for her to hurry up, you didn't want to delay anymore.

Deep down, Natasha wanted this to happen calmly, romantically, but just like you, she also doesn't want wait more

Natasha takes off the bottom part of her sweatpants, along with the boxer shorts that protected her sex. Natasha feels your gaze on every step she takes. You always looked at her with so much desire

Natasha takes off your panties, looking at your face and somehow finding in your gaze that this was your final decision, that you didn't regret it. You nod, taking her hand and take it to your pussy

Natasha massages her clitoris with the tips of her ring and middle fingers, listening to her heavy sigh and feeling the small spasm that her body gives.

You are so sensitive that with every touch she gives you, you react in a pleasant way, begging, even with gestures, that you want more.

Natasha sped up and slowed down when you asked, she inserted her fingers when you said you were ready and moved them as you wanted.

Her insides squeezed the redhead's fingers, squeezing them. You were absurdly wet, so after a few slow thrusts, your low moans of pain became pleas and moans of desire.

You hold the killer's hand and at first she understands it as a request for her to stop, but it wasn't that, it was completely the opposite. “Do not stop." Natasha sits down, moving towards your face and kissing you.

Their tongues move with the same speed as her fingers inside him. Natasha gets a little scared when she feels her fingers running down her belly, reaching her belly. .

Natasha lets out a muffled moan when your hands touch her dick. You are not calm when masturbating the redhead with both hands “Slower…” Natasha asks between moans, hiding her face in your neck. The mutual masturbation didn't last long. Within minutes Natasha was showing signs that she was going to cum, asking you to stop.

Natasha gets into an impasse over which position to choose. In the end, she ends up lying on top, since she didn't want to cum without looking into his eyes.

The redhead rests her arm on the mattress, using her free hand to help fit it into her entrance. As soon as she did, she released the breath trapped in her lungs, completely entering you.

“When I can move, let me know” Natasha says seeing the small face you made. “You can continue, I'm fine” you smile without showing your teeth, giving carte blanche to the redhead to move and start the thrusts.

They are slow. Natasha enters and leaves without any rush, enjoying the moment and the delicious feeling you give her. It's indescribable.The room is so hot at that moment. Being inside you was like heaven, even though the heat exuding from your bodies felt like hell.

Hearing her muffled moans was the only thing at that moment that gave Natasha the strength to hold back her orgasm. Yes... the only thing. Because if she hadn't been holding back so much, she would have released herself with your hands on her

Going slowly, trying not to think about the future helped the redhead to control herself. But you don't really like the way she's doing it. You ask the redhead every second to go faster and harder, she ignore them by following your own speed

Until, of your own accord, you lift your hips. The movement was so delicious that Natasha let out a loud moan, almost cumming right there. “Fuck... Don't do that” Natasha asks, lying down on your body. The redhead stops for a few seconds to compose herself, even so, she don't stop with the slow movements of her hips.

The slow movements you hated so much.

“Do you want to change?” you ask quietly, holding her waist so she could stop her thrusts “You look tired” you look into her eyes seeing the redhead with a sideways smile and arched eyebrows.

“Are you challenging me, Detka?” You lift your hips against hers once more, making her dick enter you once again, harder than the first time. “fuck fuck…”

“You look very tired, babe. I just want to help.” You say, trying to hide a smirk.

“Do better, babe” Natasha uses the same sarcasm as you, changing position and making you on top.

Before fitting her cock into your entrance, you remove your thin pajama shirt and your bra, giving the redhead full view of your completely naked body. It was as if your neck was calling her to be sucked.The redhead lifts up a little, going towards your neck, but your arm stops her. You wanted her to stay lying down.

When you sat on her and started to move, back and forth, making her dick move in and out, the killer realized that this little game was only going to end her

Damn... She won't take it.

The movement was quick, as you wanted. With each muffled moan that left her mouth, she felt her orgasm getting closer.Natasha grabs your hip, helping you with what you wanted. Working together so that we both reached yours orgasms.

The redhead doesn't care about anything anymore. She can't care about anything when her body is against hers, her lips attached to hers, her moans mixing against hers.

“Stay with me…” Natasha asks quietly, kissing your neck. “I don’t want to lose you, stay with me” Natasha begs

You do not answer. But your moan was like confirmation. The redhead, however, wants you to say it in so many words. “Say... Say you’ll stay” you kiss the redhead’s shoulder, nodding.

“I’ll stay… I love you Nat”

You can't hold back anymore. You have your orgasm while biting the redhead's shoulder hard. Natasha knows you want to moan and scream, but she knows you can't. It takes Natasha's ego through the roof, knowing that she gave you that orgasm. Your bite will leave a mark and she doesn't mind letting everyone see.

Natasha continues using her hips to make you move on her lap, hyperstimulating you and letting the peak that she held on to release so much…You moan feeling her cum filling you completely.

That night you spent the whole night together, enjoying each other's bodies, exchanging caresses and kisses. It was, without a doubt, the best night of of your life.

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