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#sort of in love sort of excited sort of not expecting Anything sort of expecting everything feeling sort of manic but sort of at piece i
triannel · 2 days
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HI!!! I adore how you write bill, an my own birthday is tomorrow an im ✨Terrified✨✨,, n was wondering ifff. You could do a sorta angst-fluff where its the readers birthday, but every single one of his birthdays has been awful. And like, now that bills here with the reader he feels like maybe he wont have to Just survive his birthday? That even with his god awful family, it might be ok. Like yeah the meds help, but it doesnt fix anything if the people youre with are why youre fucked yknow? IDK and maybe bill decides to take it upon himself to remove the readers family😋 cant be a neglected middle child w all the responsibilities of the eldest if youre an orphan/J AN I DONT MIND HOW CLOSE YOU STAY TO THIS I LOVE YOUR WRITING ANYWAYS!!
(,,,o n also the reader maybe be a grungey scene kid kinda guy? Lots of piercings, an is more feminine than his parents think he should be, especially as a trans guy, So thats smth. Love bones n bugs and shinies an is like if a dog n crow were a guy,, n supr srry if this is a bad req!! Im jus excited cus i love bill, and im also stressy out cus of my burthdayy >_<“) SO NO PRESSURE TO RESPOND ESPECIALLY IF THIS IS TOO LONG OR ANYTHIMG!!!/gen
-🌙
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Hello and Happy Birthday 🌙 anon! I've managed to whip this up and I hope it gives you at least some sort of comfort for today. I really do hope you're situation gets better soon, take care of yourself and have a great day! (Also, don't worry, I never really do mind long asks.)
BirthDate
Oneshot | Bill Cipher x Reader | Fluff/Comfort?
Warnings: Mention of Death, Implied Abuse, Implied Trauma, Implied Bad Birthdays, Bill Cipher lol
Quickly stepping upstairs, you lock yourself in your bedroom, blocking all the noise emenating from downstairs. Exhaling, you drop to your bed, letting yourself relax into comfort of the soft mattress and fluffy pillows.
Only needing rest by this point, you close your eyes. Wanting nothing more than to leave this place behind.
"WHOA, DIDN'T EXPECT TO SEE YOU SO EARLY!" A voice suddenly spoke, booming loudly for you to hear.
Ah yes, there he is. You can't exactly say he's your best pal, but right this moment, you truly do feel more at ease with him than being back there.
"It's honestly been a long day so..." You shrugged for a moment before continuing, "Does it bother you?" You ask, giving a lighthearted smile.
"NOT AT ALL, I WOULDN'T BLAME ANYONE BY WANTING TO MEET YOURS TRULY," he spoke, blinking slowly in a dramatic way to show off his 'impressive looks'.
You chuckle slightly, shaking your head, "I mean, I don't think I'm exactly the one to choose to be here..." speaking your thought aloud just to perhaps tease him a little as you glance at him for a moment before slightly chuckling once more.
You never really did know how you even get to meet him to be honest, he somewhat always manages to show up in your dreams, so overtime you guessed that he might be the one approaching you...That, or it might be because of something else entirely.
For a moment, you thought you saw him become nervous for a second, but maybe it didn't happen at all as you only saw it for less than a second.
"WELL, JUST WANTED TO CHECK HOW YOU'RE DEALING WITH KNOWING YOU'RE ONE YEAR CLOSER TO YOUR DEATH," he flatly said, in a weird, eerie way. He always did love being weird so this type of behaviour wouldn't be uncommon by this point.
"Right... Well, what's the agenda for this time then? Or are you busy?" You ask, avoiding your 'birthday' in question. You'd much rather not talk about your birthday at all to be honest. Not a single one ever went well...
Adjusting his bowtie, he started to speak, "WELL..."
Snapping his fingers, your surroundings completely change.
The rest of your 'dream' went on a relatively good note. Having a cup of tea, playing chess, you both did the usual activities you both would do when meeting in your subconscious mind. But the only thing is that, he seemed to be more...well a bit more charming and noticeably, but only slightly more open to your suggestions on what else to spend time on.
He'd usually take the wheel and drag you through any activity he wants, but this time though, this time he was a bit more...considerate.
Now playing a board game with him, you take the dice and roll it. Getting one, Bill chuckles slightly at your misfortune for a second before taking the dice from you.
He might be treating you like this because it's your birthday, but you'd doubt it... Well at least for now-
"EY, IT'S YOUR TURN TOOTS," he snapped his finger a few times in front of your face.
Chuckling, you mutter an apology before taking the dice. Rolling it in your hands, you then let it go. As the dice lands on the floor, it lands on a six, letting you be the winner for the match.
"Yess, I won!" You raise your arms, smiling back at him.
"CHECK AGAIN." Bill spoke, pointing at your piece. Looking down at the board, you see a newly added tile in front of your piece, moving the finish line out of reach. You raise your eyebrow, giving him the side eye.
"WHAT? I DON'T MAKE THE RULES," he raised his shoulders, smiling mischievously with his eye.
Shaking your head, you chuckled at his silly banter while giving him the dice for his turn.
It's unexpected but, this dorito triangle man truly has made a significance on making your birthday much more bearable. Be it his choice to do it or not, you're honestly just glad to at least have some semblance of joy sprout on this day.
I haven't been able to post for a week because unfortunately I became rlly busy at the moment and it isn't helping that I do tend to procrastinate at times. I'll post more regularly later, but for now at least, I'll post this here. Once again, happy birthday 🌙 anon!
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13eyond13 · 2 months
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actually stunned by how gay The Beatles has been all this time and I just never knew
#like its always just been there in my life but i just never paid attention#my university roomie was obsessed w them and had several beatles posters that i looked at every day#so stuff like the pictures of them from the let it be album are like engrained into my brain#and yet i never knew the lore??#nor did i know until recently that they were actually all high school buds nor did i know they wrote their own music#nor that they genuinely basically invented modern bands n using the studio the way they did etc. so all that was very impressive and cool#but THEN on top of that omg the angsty gayness of john and paul#like all i knew previously basically was that john was a thing w yoko ono and paul had a young wife recently#i had at one point heard of people shipping j&p together and was just kinda like wow i guess people will ship anything#I DIDNT KNOW#that they were actually like that cute and that insane together and that their song writing together was like an actual marriage#anywayz the old pictures and videos of them are just like jesus look how they look at each other i dont think it was just being bros#i am sort of in the camp of they prob didn't act on it for real but there was def some insane tension/chemistry going on#and then ofc once youre aware of this their songs take on so many possible meanings outside of just singing about their gfs and wives....#anyways i just have to vent about this somewhere bc im actually shocked at how this has just passed me by all these years#and it definitely was not on my bingo card for 2024 to fixate on the beatles but here we are lol#more proof to me that my ultimate fave trope or wtv is 'besties to enemies when really they actually probably wanted to be lovers'#gets me every time!!!!#whats been fun about this rabbit hole is how just every single one of my expectations has been reversed as well#i went in assuming i would like them best in this order:#(1) george (2) ringo (3) paul and (4) john#i was sure i would hate john i thought he sounded so pretentious and like such a douche#but no actually he is my fave one and it's literally in reverse order for me i find george my least fave#(i like his music and feel bad for how he got ignored in the band but i like him the least)#and then i literally am john paul ringo george in order of faves now#i just love when i get surprised like that idk it keeps me on my toes and keeps things exciting and fresh#and yes john is indeed pretentious and a douche but i didn't know he was also funny and vulnerable and that i like his voice and songs#the most in the bunch almost every time as well#the beatles#p
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Okay so I’ve purposely not read anything about the new companion/her actor, but like, with the way RTD has started off his return, with Tennant’s costume and calling him the 14th doctor and overshadowing Gatwa’s entrance and naming Donna’s daughter Rose, it all really feels like he’s trying to milk nostalgia to bring him/the show back into the good graces of its worst critics from the past few years.
Like, with Ruby Sunday (what a name…) being a young blonde girl immediately after the Doctor’s return to Tennant’s body, I feel like RTD’s just going to use her to be the vessel for the Doc’s Very Own Morality Nostalgia Trip/Getting Over Rose Time like he did with Martha, which I think was a pretty universally disliked decision.
Maybe I’m wrong, but Doctor Who has been built over the past half century to be a show about moving forward, and all of these gestures look more like bringing things “back to normal” to me, which i think is the wrong move.
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iwakuraz · 1 month
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"you'll be fine at school you just need to answer people when they talk to you!" yeah sorry its always my fault somehow isn't it
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vviciously · 1 year
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so blessed by my heavenly Father i cant even begin to sing the joy inside my soul
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writingouthere · 8 months
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bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot
summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.
cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.
**************
"I'm pregnant!"
Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.
Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."
"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.
"Holy shit, did you two-"
"No!"
"Ew, no!"
Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."
You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."
"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"
"Hey!"
"-then who did?"
You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."
Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.
"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"
"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."
Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.
"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."
With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.
You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.
You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.
"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"
"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.
"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."
"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."
He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.
"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.
"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.
"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."
You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.
"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."
You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.
"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.
"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.
"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"
"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."
"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."
"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"
"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.
"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.
"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."
The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.
"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."
You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.
"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.
"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.
"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.
"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"
He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.
He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.
Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.
"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.
"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.
"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.
"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."
For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.
"What-"
"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."
Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"
"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."
You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"
"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."
When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.
If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.
dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.
side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.
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icemankazansky · 2 months
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A Simple Guide to Not Being Afraid to Write Comments to Fic You Read
I've seen a lot of posts about the current state of fanfiction comments. Writers, especially writers who have been in fandom for a decade or more, are frustrated by the lack of comments, and have noticed a definite decline in comments (and all other forms of reader interaction) in the past ten years or so. Many readers feel daunted by the expectation of leaving comments, afraid they'll do something wrong. As a fandom old maid, the latter confused me for a while, until I realized that most of the people who feel that way probably have not been taught this form of communication.
But your loving fandom elders are here for you. Come along as your auntie tumblr user icemankazansky makes this shit easy.
The easiest way to think of fanfiction comment etiquette is to compare it to something you likely already know: Gift Receiving Etiquette.
Fanfiction began as largely a gift economy. And a lot of it still is! You'll see authors participate in exchanges like Yuletide and Id Pro Quo; those are ficswaps in which authors write for a specific person to specific prompts. And even outside that, fanfiction is not written for money; authors write and post it simply for the joy of creation and community with fellow fans. Fic is posted free for anyone to enjoy. Is that not a gift?
So. When you as a reader finish the chapter or story you're reading and you are faced with the comment box, try to follow the same etiquette you would when receiving a gift. (And even if you didn't love this gift and it's not your favorite gift ever, we already know that it's more useful than the products from your cousin's MLM that they're passing off as gifts, because you read the story. At the very least, it entertained you for the time you took to read it.)
The big rule of gift receiving etiquette is not to insult the person who gave you the gift, either directly or indirectly. That's it. Full stop.
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I've been seeing a lot of comments lately that are just along the lines of, "Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us." A+, top of the class, full marks, you're doing amazing. If you don't feel comfortable commenting on the story itself, that is perfect feedback. And that's the most basic way you respond to a gift, yes? Thank you for the gift. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for sharing.
Does this rule mean that you cannot say anything at all that might be negative about anything? No, absolutely not. What you want to avoid is saying something that is, at its core, a negative evaluation of the author or their work. Let's do some examples.
Character A's obliviousness about Character B's MASSIVE crush on them made me so frustrated! I was tearing my hair out internally screaming, "JUST LET HIM LOVE YOU."
✔️ Excellent comment! You're allowed to have all sorts of feelings about things that happen in the story, and in fact authors LOVE to hear about any emotions they made you feel. Yes, frustration is not a positive emotion, but the thing you are expressing frustration about is not the author themselves or their shortcomings.
Contrast that to:
I was really frustrated that it took you so long to post this chapter. The cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter had me tearing my hair out, and then you just left us hanging FOREVER!
❌ Nope! Here what you are expressing is frustration with the author and how fast they come out with new chapters. Imagine your sister buys you a gift for your birthday, but she isn't able to give it to you until the next week, and you respond with: "What took you so long?" I think Emily Post would frown on that.
Reframing
The way you say something and the point of view from which you give feedback can have a HUGE impact on the message you're sending. Let's take the last comment (the one about wanting an update) and see what happens when we reframe the same sentiment as a positive:
I was SO EXCITED to see that you updated this story! I have really been looking forward to seeing what happened after the cliffhanger in the last chapter.
✔️ Now it's not an insult. The author will be happy to know that you are happy to see new work from them.
This idea extends beyond the story itself: to the fandom, the characters, the pairing, the tropes, etc. Let's do some examples.
I looooove reading about these sexy boys SO IN LOVE even though the movie you're writing about is SOOOOO problematic.
❌ Nope! Assume that the author enjoys the canon, characters, pairing, etc. in the stories they write. This comment is insulting to the author because it basically says, "That thing you love is not great, and you should probably feel bad for liking it." Imagine your aunt gifts you a sweater from a popular retailer, and you respond with, "This is so cute, I love it! It's a shame that it was made in a sweatshop." Do you have a valid point about the canon or the retailer's business practices? You very well might. Is this the proper time and place to talk about it? Absolutely not.
Let's do a reframing exercise. You should be very careful about how you approach commenting negatively on anything in the story that appears in the tags list, but you can make it a compliment and good feedback if you have the right perspective. See the difference with these two approaches:
I kind of think frottage is disgusting, but I liked it in this story.
❌ Nope! You just told the author you think their kink is disgusting. That's like telling your poor aunt who is just trying to keep you warm this winter that she has awful taste in knitwear. Try again.
Frottage normally isn't my kink, but I love your other stories with this pairing, so I decided to give it a try, and I'm SOOOOO GLAD that I did! This story was 🔥🔥🔥
✔️ "This normally isn't my thing, but you made me expand my horizons!" Authors love to hear that. That's like telling your aunt, "I never thought this color looked good on me, but I look so cute in this sweater! I'm so glad you helped me step outside my comfort zone, because I'm the better for it."
thank u, next
The last thing I want to address is this new trend I've seen in commenting lately: placing an order. If your mom surprises you with new headphones, you don't respond with, "I wanted the white ones 🙁," or, "You should get me a new phone, too." It's easy to see why that isn't appropriate in a gifting situation, and it's also not appropriate when commenting on fanfiction.
Let's do some examples:
This fic was soooo cute, but it would have been a million times better if Character A had been with Character C instead of Character B.
❌ There are a few things going on here. Number one, you're telling your mom you wanted the white headphones, not the ones she actually bought you. You're also disparaging the A/B pairing that the author chose to write about, and as we discussed, we can assume that the author wrote the pairing because they liked it. Even if it's not their favorite and/or they also write A/C, they made a choice for this story to be A/B, and the comments section of a fic is not the place to question choices the author made in their own work.
You should write a story where Character Z who is not even in this story does [thing that is vaguely referenced in the B plot].
❌ "You should get me a new phone, too."
I want a sequel. 😞
❌ "Thank you, next!"
You can reframe this kind of sentiment if you are careful about it, and it's not all you say.
I really loved this story. I would be so interested to see these ideas explored further if you ever decide to write more in this universe.
✔️ Not "gimme." Not "more." This is, "If you build it, I will come." It is a HUGE difference.
You already know how to do this. You know how to graciously accept a gift; just use that same etiquette, and boom! Now you know how to fearlessly write a comment to fic you read. You're doing amazing. Go forth and comment.
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gothbitchshit · 3 months
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Match My Freak
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Pairing: Eddie x plus sized girlfriend reader
Rating: Explicit — minors do not interact
Genre: fluff, kinda crack?, explicit smut, post s4 Eddie lives!AU
Word count: 5.3k
Summary: Eddie's girlfriend goes looking him Eddie and finds herself in a compromising position, and sharing some feelings she wasn't expecting to that changes the nature of their relationship forever.
Warnings: established relationship, Eddie likes his girls thick idc I make the rules, confessions of sorts, near anxiety/panic attack, lowkey roleplay that turns into not-roleplay lol, overuse of pet names, finger sucking, mentioned fingering (does not occur), choking, impact play/pussy slapping, master kink, fingering, unprotected sex, safeword discussion, d/s implications, dirty talk (these two are filthy), dumbification if you squint, Eddie being silly, these two are horny and in love – if I missed anything please let me know!
Requested? nope, but @slashersteve and @witchoftheewilds encouraged me to write this so they get credit
Authors note: so... I disappeared for like 2 years. Sorry about that lol this is written in 3rd person with the reader having she/her pronouns.
⋆ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋆
She knew exactly where she’d find him — sitting on his throne in the low-lit room, feet up on the table with his nose buried in a Dungeons and Dragons manual instead of home room. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t even flinch when she walked in; most of the Hellfire Club came and went as they pleased, and she doubted Eddie even realized the morning bell had rung. 
She’d been disappointed not to find him in the parking lot that morning, even more disappointed when she hadn’t found him waiting at her locker. But when she didn’t see him loitering outside Mrs. Brandon’s class until the bell rang, she knew exactly where he’d be. 
It was Friday, which meant he was going over his campaign before the Hellfire meeting planned for that night. He looked so excited, almost manic as he poured over his notes. She locked the door and pulled the shade down before lazily making her way over to him.
“Oh, gracious dungeon master,” she drawled seductively, Eddie’s eyes shooting up to look at her over his notes before a smirk settled on his face. She knew he’d already caught onto her game, and was more than willing to play along. “Could you spare a moment?”
“Always. What can I do for a princess, clearly lost in my domain, this early in the morning?” He asked, reaching out to take her hand, but she pulled away at the last minute, skirting around his chair. His fingers brushed the edge of the flannel she had tied around her waist but he couldn’t quite catch her.
“Well, as you can tell, I’m lost, and I’m in desperate need of answers,” she sighed, trailing a manicured finger down the side of his neck over the back of his chair.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help a lost maiden,” he replied, shivering as her nail hit the fading hickey at the junction of his neck and collarbone.
“So this sadistic, twisted campaign you’ve been planning,” she began, “What can you tell this lonely, weary traveler about it?”
“Well, princess, I can’t tell you too much. Can’t ruin the surprise,” he sighed, sitting up in his chair and making room for her in front of him, “But I can tell you that I don’t think any will survive the vicious, blood thirsty hoard that is commanded by Tharizdun, God of Eternal Darkness.”
She hummed in contemplation, finally moving to stand in front of him, remaining just out of his reach, “How can he possibly be defeated?” She asked, pushing herself onto the table, running a foot up the inside of his leg as she did.
“My sweet, kind princess,” he smiled, a slender, ring clad hand reaching out to grab her ankle, pulling it up to his mouth to place a chaste kiss on the skin. She shivered as he nearly forced her to lay back on the table, catching herself on her elbows, “I couldn’t possibly tell you that. I know the freshmen probably sent you in here to get a leg up on my campaign, but it won’t come that easily.”
She frowned animatedly, “You think I’m trying to trick you?” She asked softly, making him groan as his hand tightened around her ankle.
“I know you are, princess,” he laughed incredulously, “Why else would you be here, spread out on my table in front of my throne?”
“Can’t I just be curious?” She pouted, pulling her ankle away from him as she sat up.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he cooed, cupping her face in his hand, “If I tell you, you have to swear you won’t tell the freshmen about it and you have to come to Hellfire tonight.”
“Deal,” she smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the palm of his hand.
Eddie laughed, shaking his head before settling back into his throne, “Well, Tharizdun, the God of Eternal Darkness, is locked away, imprisoned for his crimes. But he is able to influence his cult members to act on his behalf. They are obsessed with finding and freeing him from his eternal prison so darkness can reign supreme yet again. To defeat him, you’d need someone who has magical influence to somehow stop his mid control and—“
“What if someone were to… I don’t know… stumble upon Thorzidune—“
“—Tharizdun.”
“Yes, sorry. Tharizdun. If someone were to find him and distract him…” she trailed off before locking eyes with Eddie and asking, “Could he be seduced?”
Eddie’s jaw dropped, a breathless laugh forced itself from his lungs as he stared at her, her lips curling into a smirk as she watched the wheels turn in his head. “Princess, I-I don’t think you realize what you’re—“ he stuttered.
“I mean, he’s not a zombie or anything, so he’s not immune to being charmed or whatever. So why couldn’t he be seduced?” She asked with a shrug. 
“Baby, your charisma stats would have to be insane to even—“ he began but she cut him off with a scoff.
“Excuse you, I’m a level 13 Bard and my charisma stats are off the charts,” she deadpanned, folding her arms across her chest.
“On whose authority? You’ve never played with me and you can’t just say things like that, it cheapens—“ he complained, but she cut him off again.
“Will the Wise,” she said firmly, making him freeze, “You can ask him. We’ve played extensively. Now, what would I need to roll to properly seduce the terrible, terrifying, Tharizdun?”
She could see the realization set in, his eyes going dark as he assessed her. The predatory gleam in his eyes sent a wave of arousal pooling in her core, “Well, who am I to question Will the Wise? So, you need a 15 or higher to seduce the mighty Tharizdun, princess,” he smiled, standing up to his full height to tower over her. “Here, I’ll even let you use my lucky dice,” he said, bending over to whisper directly into her ear before pressing the dice into her hand.
She felt like there was an electric current under her skin, her hands almost shaking in anticipation. She sucked in a breath and steeled her resolve, pushing Eddie backwards, back into his throne. “Thank you for the luck, oh gracious one,” she curtsied.
“Anytime, princess,” he smirked, leaning back in his seat.
“Oh,” she smiled innocently, “Will you hold this for me? It’s a little warm in here,” she asked, watching his eyes trail over her as she untied the dark flannel from around her waist, revealing the ripped black shorts. She could have sworn she saw Eddie drool a little bit as he stared at her exposed legs.
She turned on her toes, bending over the table dramatically, “Fuck, princess,” he groaned, his hands ghosting up the backs of her plush thighs. “You don’t even need to roll. Tharizdun is at your mercy at the mere sight of you.”
She turned to look at him over his shoulder, suppressing a laugh as she saw his eyes glued to the bottom of her ass. “No, we need to do this the right way, there are rules for a reason. You should know that,” she chastised, before turning back to the table. “Oh, and I’d rather be at Tharizdun’s mercy,” she teased, rolling the dice.
The moment of silence in anticipation seemed to stretch for hours, her breath caught in her throat as the dice spun before it stopped, landing on 20. “Congratulations princess,” Eddie breathed in her ear, “You got your wish.” Before she could respond, his hands were under the hem of her shorts, kneading into the flesh of her ass.
“Eddie!” She squealed, feeling the cold metal of his rings cut into her warm skin.
“Nope, that’s not my name right now, sweetheart,” he breathed into her ear, “Call me by my name, and I’ll grant you mercy.”
“‘Tharizdun, God of Eternal Darkness’ is a mouthful, and you know I’m a screamer,” She whispered back, “But because I’m at your mercy, what if I just call you master?”
She couldn’t help but feel satisfied at the sharp intake of breath she heard in her ear, followed by a low warning sound that reverberated in his chest. But the satisfaction was ripped away from her with a hand around her throat, pulling her back into his chest.
“If you call me that again, princess, you’re never getting rid of me, you got that? You say that shit again and you are mine, understood?”
Her heart fluttered and her knees went weak; she wanted nothing more than to be his forever. The simple thought of it made her break into goosebumps and her brain to go a little fuzzy. She wanted him to own her, to want her as much as she wanted him. “Please, master, I want it. I wanna be yours, only yours,” she pleaded softly, her eyes filling with tears at the unspoken promise in his proposition. 
Eddie sighed, a pleased hum vibrating through her back from his chest. His hand tightened as he scoffed, pressing his hard bulge into the cleft of her ass, making her whine. “My dumb little pet,” he cooed mockingly, “You come into my lair, batting your pretty little eyes at me, trying to seduce me for someone else’s benefit? And now you offer yourself to me, to keep?”
“Yes, fuck, I want you to keep me. I wanna be yours forever,” she whispered, her whole body trembling in his hold. “I love you, Eddie,” she hiccuped. 
His grip on her faltered, his fingers loosening around her neck, making her freeze. It had been on the tip of her tongue for weeks, always choking the words back as the insecurities echoed in her mind, all the same haunting tone that’d almost claimed her life in the upside down mere months before. And now she’d fucked it up — she should have known Eddie would never feel the same way about her as she did him. His words were just part of the game they were playing, he didn’t mean them like she did.
“Princess, I need you to breathe,” Eddie commanded gently, trapping her chin between his fingers and forcing her to look at him. His eyes were wide and wild, still half feral but also concerned, and all it did was make her cry harder. 
“It-it’s okay you don’t love me, I-I won’t be upset just p-please don’t-don’t leave,” she stuttered out between gasps, trying to stave off the panic attack that was building.
“Fuck, no, no, no, no, no, no sweetheart,” he cooed softly, cupping her cheeks, “I’ve been in love with you since the moment you slayed a hoard of demobats to save my stupid ass. Shit, I’ve probably been in love with you for way longer. Definitely before we started dating – like when you told me you liked my tattoo and my guitar and convinced me to play you part of the song I was writing, and then actually liked it? Y’know, I haven’t thought of a single other girl since then,” he rambled, the goofy grin she loved so much not leaving his face for a second. “I’m so sorry I made you think I didn’t, but holy fuck, I have been in love with you for so long princess and hearing you say it felt like a-a hallucination or something.”
“You love me too?” She mumbled through sniffles.
“You are the love of my life. I love you so much I don’t even have the words for it, which is saying a lot because I am known for my way with words.”
“I love you too, Eddie,” she smiled, pressing up onto her toes to kiss him, melting into his embrace.
His hands hooked under her legs, lifting her up so she could wrap herself around him as he carefully set her on the table. “I wasn’t joking baby,” he said, pulling away to look into her eyes seriously. “When I said you were mine, that I wanted to keep you. I want you forever because I am in love with you.”
The white hot burn of his words roared in her ears as he pressed his lips to hers again, slower this time, sucking her lip in between his teeth before giving her a sharp nip.
“Now that you’ve given yourself to me, and I to you, can we continue where we left off? Because we only have 30 minutes before next period, and while I am fully willing to skip O’Donnel’s class to claim my pretty little pet, you told me you’d kill me yourself if I don’t graduate with you.”
“And I stand by that statement,” she smiled, still feeling dazed, “But I also need you to fuck me so hard I forget how boring Bunsen’s chem class is for the entire hour. Can you do that, oh gracious one? My God of Eternal Darkness.”
“Don’t you need that to graduate?” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her neck.
“Yeah, but it’s lab day and Nancy’s my partner,” she shrugged, shivering as she felt the tendrils of his curls ghost across her skin.
“Oh, so you just fuck around while everyone else struggles?” He grinned, nipping at her neck to make her gasp. “Why am I not surprised Wheeler would let you skate by”
“Because she’s my friend,” she breathed absently, too distracted feeling Eddie’s warm hands travel the expanse of her legs and his lips working his way across her chest.
“Mmhmm, and you’re gonna sit in that class with her, all fucked out after I split you open and make you cry bouncing on my cock?” He asked.
“Yes, please,” she whispered, her eyes rolling back as he bit down on her earlobe.
“Please what, princess?”
“Please, master,” she sighed.
“Of course, my pet,” he smirked, “I’ve told you before, flattery works on me, sweetheart.” She didn’t notice he had been causally undoing the buttons that held her shorts up until he was yanking the fabric down her ass and throwing them to the side.
“Eddie, baby, please. Don’t tease me. I need you now,” she pleaded, eyes wide and glassy as she stared at him, “I’ll do anything when we get home, anything, as long as you fuck me now, and you fuck me hard.”
“Sweet princess, my little pet, have you forgotten your manners already? I’m your master right now baby, and you’re at my mercy. That was the deal,” he chuckled, “But since you asked so nicely…” He took two steps back from her, settling himself into his throne with a dark glint in his eyes. He started in her eyes as he unbuckled his belt, the handcuffs clinking as he unbuttoned his pants. “I need my girl to come ride me on my throne, seeing as you, from this moment forward, are my queen.”
She bit her lip so hard she could feel it split, the sharp metallic filling her mouth, “Yes master,” she nodded, pushing herself off the table. Eddie’s wicked grin grew even more as she took two careful steps toward him, coming to stand between his spread legs.
“I see my princess got all dressed up just for me,” he smirked, his fingers ghosting over her stomach, venturing under the hem of the Dio shirt he’d given her the night he asked her to be his girlfriend. “Do you like wearing the clothes I get you, baby? Letting everyone know that you’re mine?”
She nodded, a shy smile on her face, “It lets everyone know that you’re mine too,” she whispered, climbing into his lap. She trailed her nails up his neck softly, relishing in the hiss that came out of his mouth, “Can’t let anyone try to take you from me.”
“Sweetheart, I assure you. No one other than you wants me,” he laughed, but her hand in his hair cut him off with a groan.
“It’s because they don’t know you. If they did, every girl in Hawkins would be fighting for your attention,” she frowned, littering kisses across his face. “Well, everyone except Nancy and Robin.”
He groaned in displeasure, “Do you want to get fucked or do you wanna talk about them? It’s one or the other baby.”
“I need you to fuck me,” she smiled innocently, grinding down on him with an experimental roll of her hips. The satisfied moan caught in her throat, the friction being nearly too much to handle after the teasing she’d received.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he nearly purred, his gorgeous, massive hands holding onto her hips. The cool metal of his rings made her eyes roll back as they settled on her heated flesh. She felt herself slipping back into the hazy headspace she’d been in earlier. 
She had never considered herself very submissive —  a switch at best — but Eddie brought something out of her that she’d never felt before. And it terrified her. Being with Eddie was so different than the other guys she’d fucked. She knew Eddie would hand her the reins of control as soon as she asked, if she ever asked; he would indulge her every whim without a single hesitation. And because of that, she let herself float into it without fighting it for the first time. 
She semi consciously realized Eddie could tell exactly when she let herself go, his grin curling into one that was more smug, and deeply self satisfied. “That’s it, there’s my good girl,” he sighed, “Been waiting for you to let me behind those walls you built, sweetheart. Knew you’d be the perfect little pet for me,” he cooed, pushing his thumb past her lips.
She ground down on his erection, spit leaking from the corner of her mouth lewdly as he pushed down on her tongue with the pad of his finger, keeping her head still while the other directed her hips.
“Gonna fuck you now, s’that okay princess?” He slurred, his head tipping back as he bucked his hips into hers unconsciously. She nodded, mewls of approval falling from her open mouth making him laugh. “Alright, alright, gimme one second sweetheart.”
Without moving his thumb from her mouth, he managed to shimmy his pants and boxers down to free his cock — hard and leaking pearly beads of pre cum that made her drool and her pussy clench in excitement. “Please, my love, please,” she slurred, her hands trembling where they were bunched in his shirt.
“Anything for you,” he smiled. He hooked one long finger under the lace, pulling it to the side to expose her cunt, strings of arousal clinging to the thin fabric lewdly. A pleased hum left him as he stared at her, removing his thumb from between her lips with a pop before aligning his cock with her entrance, the blunt head pressed against her firmly. “Ready baby?”
She nodded absently, too fixated on the golden expanse of his forearms to properly retain any of the words he was saying. The veins and tendons under the skin, and the patches of dark black ink were something that captivated her attention even when he wasn’t about to fuck her senseless. But when he was — it was downright sinful. Especially when they gave way to his hands, God’s most beautiful creation. Wide, rough palms that bled into long, thick fingers, which just so happened to be holding something else long and thick, something she loved nearly as much as his hands: his cock. 
“Princess, I need you to look at me,” he said sharply. Her eyes flew to his, confusion and concern swirling in her brain, and evidently her eyes, because his eyes softened, pulling her closer for a moment to press a kiss to the space between her eyebrows, “You weren’t listening to me like a good girl, and I need you to pay attention to what I’m about to say,” he smiled, his tone soft. “If you need me to stop, you say red, got it? No matter what, if you need a break or something hurts or you don’t like what’s happening, or even if you just start to feel uncomfortable, you say red and we’re done. Got it?”
“Yes master,” she smiled, warmth filling her chest as he spoke.
He snarled in response, both of his hands finding her hips as he seated her on his cock, bottoming out nearly instantly. She choked on her groan, having to grab the elaborate headpiece of the throne to steady herself. She could have sworn she felt him in the back of her throat he was hitting so deep, and his girth was nothing to laugh at — it usually took three fingers to prepare her to take him — but the pain ebbing into pleasure was more intoxicating than any drug she’d ever done.
Without thinking, she pulled herself almost all the way off him before dropping back into his lap forcefully, ripping deep, low moans out of the both of them. “Do it again,” he ordered, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as she began riding him desperately. “That’s it, my good girl, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart,” he praised, his hips meeting her thrusts evenly.
“Eddie,” she moaned shamelessly. The knowledge they were in school, and it wasn’t even 9am passed through her brain briefly, but as soon as it came it had gone, replaced only by the thought of Eddie’s cock kissing her cervix as he changed angles slightly.
“My princess, my sweet girl. You’re mine, you got that? You’ve always been mine, but fuck, sweetheart, I’m never gonna let you go now, do you hear me? Now that I know you love me as much as I love you.”
She couldn’t find words to convey to him how much she loved him, but her head was filled with flashes of images — of their future together. Graduating together, moving into their own place, eventually getting married, and achieving their dreams together; she could see it all, in perfect color with every thrust of his hips it became more clear. She wanted to chalk it up to being cockdrunk, but she knew it wasn’t. She’d found her other half.
In the beautiful boy that had a smile that lit up the darkest corners of her mind, the same one who she’d nearly lost multiple times in the twisted hellscape that still haunted her memories. Her life had restarted the second Dustin re-introduced them, standing in the parking lot less than 100 feet away. He had protected her, saved her — loved her — in spite of it all. 
She didn’t know how she hadn’t screamed her love for him every second of the day before then, because it flowed out of her pores like a river now. She wasn’t sure she could keep it in if she tried. 
She loved his messy curls, even now as they stuck to his forehead and became frizzier with sweat. She loved his big brown eyes and the way she could read every emotion in them at a moment's glance, but especially when they sparkled with mischief like they did at that very moment. She loved his insane tangents about obscure nerd lore, his scatterbrained messiness, his compulsive need to learn new guitar riffs even if it meant staying up until 4am before they had to go to school. 
She hadn’t noticed she’d started crying until she felt his tongue on her cheek, licking away the spilled tear before his eyes rolled back in his head. “My precious little pet, cum for me,” he cooed, “Obey your master.”
She hadn’t even noticed she was close, but as soon as his words permeated her brain she was shaking as the waves of her orgasm wracked through her body, a high pitched squeal wrenching out of her vocal cords, muffled only by Eddie’s hand slapping over her mouth quickly. 
“Fuck baby, I know I told you to scream for me, but we really don’t wanna get caught,” he smirked, his thrusts shallowing as he worked her through her orgasm.
“I love you, I love you so much, I don’t even understand how much I do,” she babbled softly, her brain scrambling to put words together in a coherent fashion. “I love when you hold my hand and how you talk to me and when you play guitar. I love your scars and your tattoos and your fingers and your cock and your eyes. Fuck, Eddie,” she sobbed incoherently, “Please!”
She felt weightless for a second as he stood, not moving from inside her as he slammed her back down onto the table. He hovered over her for a moment, staring into her eyes as he caressed her face softly, “God you’re fucking everything,” he groaned before snapping his hips into hers brutally.
The sheer force of him forced the sounds out of her — desperate, whiny, needy little moans that would have made her embarrassed on any other day — the ability to speak no longer in her grasp.
“You would have told me a year ago that my dream girl would be crying because of my cock and telling me she loved me? I would have thought I was dreaming,” he muttered, his teeth grit in determination as he pounded into her. “Too fuckin’ good for me. My Luthien. I’ll spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of you, sweetheart, in this life, the next, and every one after that.”
She felt her second orgasm approaching fast, her vision nearly going black with the force of its impending devastation. Her only tether to reality was Eddie’s hands on her skin, one hand holding hers and the other wrapped around her throat.
“Kiss me, please,” she croaked, pressing her heel into his back as her free hand grabbed his neck, pulling him closer as her orgasm tore through her like a tidal wave.
He groaned, his hips stuttering to a stop as he collapsed onto her, his lips finding hers as if they were drawn together like magnets. She could feel him throbbing inside her, coating the velvety walls of her cunt.
“Fuck, I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” he laughed breathlessly after he detached his lips from hers.
“Me either,” she shivered, the sweat on her skin cooling as they came down from their high together.
He smiled down at her softly, working his hands under her back before lifting her off the table easily, settling back into his throne with her body tucked into his chest. He pulled his jacket over her shoulders, combing his fingers through her hair gently, pressing his lips to her forehead every so often.
She felt the feeling come back to her slowly, Eddie’s warmth seeping into her skin. “You doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He mumbled, making her hum happily in response. “I’m sorry pretty girl, but we’re running out of time.”
“S’okay babe, I just need to feel my legs again so I don’t collapse in the hall and have to explain to Principal Higgins you shattered my pelvis with your dick in the theater room instead of going to home room,” she sighed airily.
His rumbling laugh shook her body, “I think Higgins would croak then and there if you did that princess.”
“Who would I be to take your graduation plans away from you? Flipping Higgins the bird and all,” she chuckled, kissing his neck softly before sitting back from his embrace. “God that was stupid, I don’t know how I’m gonna stay awake the rest of the day.”
“You think that’s bad? I’m gonna be hard all day thinking about the way you looked, shit and the way you cried for me?” Eddie scoffed teasingly, leaning forward to press his lips to hers again.
She sank into his kiss easily, the tension fading from her body. Before she could get too wrapped up in him she pulled away sharply, “Hey, no, you can’t trick me. We need to get up, and you need to go to class, because I swear to God, Munson, if you fail and need to go to summer school and fuck up our plans… Let’s just say eternity will be a little bit shorter for you.”
“I know, I know,” he grumbled, “Bratty little thing,” he huffed to himself, putting his hands on her hips. He lifted her off him with a groan, quickly covering her exposed cunt with her underwear before giving it a quick tap, making her jump. “Gotta keep that in baby, don’t wanna be making a mess during chemistry class, now do you?”
“I can’t believe I’m in love with you,” she rolled her eyes, lifting herself off his lap with shaky legs.
He hummed smugly before grinning, “But you are,” he mocked her, pulling his jeans and boxers back up around his hips.
“I can take it back,” she shrugged, hiding the smirk on her face as he gasped in mock outrage.
“You said the words, sweetheart, you pledged yourself to me. You knew the consequences,” he smiled, dropping to his knees in front of her. She flushed seeing him stare up at her, big brown eyes full of love and adoration.
“My Beren,” she smiled softly, threading her fingers into his curls, and she wasn’t sure his smile could get any wider.
“I should have known, my pet doesn’t miss a detail, not even when she’s low on blood flow to her brain and fucked out,” he grinned, kissing the skin above the strip of lace. “But that’s right, angel. You’re the Luthien to my Beren.”
He grabbed her leg, shifting her weight to balance on one foot as he lifted the other, slipping her shorts up. His nimble fingers tying the ribbons to sit flush against her thighs. “Thank you, my love.”
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he beamed at her, standing up to his full height. “Now, we’ve got a couple minutes. How about I help you hobble to class?”
“I would be eternally grateful,” she rolled her eyes, “Seeing as you’re the reason I won’t be able to walk across the stage at graduation next week.”
“Not my fault my dick is so big,” he shrugged with a smirk, making her choke as she glared at him. “Aw, my pet is choking for me and my cock isn’t even in your mouth.”
Whatever response she had died on her tongue as he lifted her off the ground at the blinding smile on his face, his hand held out to her. She couldn’t fight her own smile as she took it, strolling out of the theater room out into the hall as the bell rang. 
He walked her all the way to her chemistry classroom, her backpack slung over his shoulder and her hand in his. He pulled her to a stop just outside the door, crowding her against an empty stretch of lockers.
She felt her cheeks warm as he stared down at her, leaning against the doorframe. He opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off with a kiss and a breathless, “I love you.”
“I love you too, princess. I’ll meet you here in an hour,” he smiled softly, pressing one last kiss to her head before turning around and sauntering toward Mrs. O’Donnel’s classroom.
She didn’t make it 5 steps before Nancy’s voice rang out behind her. “Why are you walking like that?”
“I have no idea what you’re—“
“Did you really skip first period to fuck Munson?” She deadpanned, making her smirk. “I love you, but you’re disgusting.”
“You have no idea…” she trailed off, taking her seat. Nancy simply rolled her eyes and opened her textbook. After a moment of silence she turned to Nancy with a wry grin. “So do you wanna know what happened?”
Nancy slammed her textbook shut with a snap, a small smile on her face, “Alright, I guess you can tell me everything.”
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supernovasilence · 2 years
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Ok we all talk about the Pevensies' trauma at returning to Earth at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and their trouble readjusting to life there again but think of all the funny/good parts too
They return from the country, and their mom is surprised when all her children hug her at the station. Even Peter, who thinks he's all grown up. Even Edmund, who went away surly and withdrawn. She doesn't know her children haven't seen her in over a decade.
They miss their dear Cair Paravel, but they absolutely do not miss its chamber pots. Indoor plumbing is amazing.
It takes a while to remember how modern technology works, though. How many heart attacks did the siblings give their parents or the professor because they walked into a dark room only to turn on the light and find the children sitting there in the dark. (They were by the window! There was still plenty of light from the sunset! They would have gotten a candle in a minute!) The kids sheepishly remember oh yeah electricity is a thing.
(Edmund has a new electric torch in Prince Caspian. He was so excited to get that torch. Almost more excited than you'd think a kid his age would be, and his parents expect Peter at least to tease him, but the siblings all agree light in your hand at the touch of a switch is terrific.)
Suddenly getting really high grades in some subjects and terrible in others. Their grammar, reading comprehension, spelling, vocab, even penmanship? Amazing. History and geography? They don't remember anything. One time in class Susan forgets Earth is round and wants to die.
Also they can never remember what the date is supposed to be because Narnia uses different months and years. They can estimate time really well by looking at the sun though, and Edmund at least can always tell which way is north etc without thinking about it (again, using the sun)
Okay but how many times did they go to pick something up or reach something and realize they are so much shorter and less muscled than they expect? It's a common sight to see Peter climbing on counters to reach a top cabinet, grumbling about how he's High King this is demeaning. (No he never takes the extra five seconds to grab a stool. He will climb that shelf.)
Peter and Susan being delighted because they are no longer almost thirty. (In a few years Edmund and Lucy will tease them about being old and their parents will not understand.)
Lucy doesn't have to deal with periods anymore for a few years yet. Susan might not either. Heck yeah
Lucy loves to climb into her siblings' laps and be cuddled. In Narnia she eventually she grew too big, but now she is small and snuggleable again. Peter is her favorite, and if she's upset, he'll tickle her and tell bad jokes until she's smiling again, but really she loves cuddling with all her family. She grew up without her parents; how many times did she just want to crawl into her mom's lap and her mom was a world away? Imagine the first time she realizes she can now. Or, imagine one day, a cold and grey sort of day, when the rain is pattering against the windows, and it sounds like the rain on the windows of the Professor's house, that first day they went exploring. It sounds like the day they played hide and seek. It sounds so like the rain on the windows of Cair Paravel, that if Lucy closes her eyes she can imagine she's back there, having tea and chatting with Mr. Tumnus before the fireplace of her room, and soon the rain will stop, and they will go out on the balcony and wave to the naiads and the dryads and the mermaids, who have come out to enjoy the rain and visit one other on the banks of the Great River winding past Cair Paravel down to the sea.
But if Lucy looks out the window, all she'll see is the rain over London, so it's not only a cold and grey sort of day, it's a lonely sort of day too.
Susan and Edmund are playing chess in the living room (and they must have studied with Professor Kirke, thinks their mother, because they certainly weren't that good when they left). Lucy goes over to Edmund, and oh dear, thinks their mother, now he's going to call her a baby and be horrible to her, but instead he picks her up and puts her on his lap without even taking his eyes off the chessboard; it's simply a matter of course.
"Doesn't the rain sound familiar?" says Lucy in a solemn, wistful way.
Their mother doesn't know what that means, but her siblings must, because Susan says, "Yes, Lu, it does,” and Edmund gives her a little hug with his free arm as she tucks herself under his chin to watch the chess match.
(Five minutes later there is a crash from the next room as Peter falls off a counter. Their mother does not understand the words he must have picked up from the Professor, but he's grounded for them anyway. His siblings have no respect for their High King, because they refuse to stop laughing.)
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 months
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EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER
A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol
WORD COUNT: 9k
WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)
SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.
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You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar. 
You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.
And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise. 
When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip. 
Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you. 
“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.
“I’m taken.”
“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”
You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast. 
It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again. 
An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know. 
Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. 
“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.
“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar. 
When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong. 
“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring. 
“Harry…”
“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze. 
“Yes, he did.”
“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.
“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around. 
“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”
“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.
“The guy cheated on you!”
“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him. 
“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”
You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building. 
“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”
“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”
“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”
It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you. 
“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”
“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”
He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while. 
“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”
You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far? 
No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth. 
Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up. 
Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had. 
Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through. 
JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.
JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.
You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.
You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.
JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.
JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet? 
JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.
There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him. 
“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up. 
“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”
He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here. 
“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”
“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”
“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”
“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”
And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands. 
You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it. 
You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.
“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”
He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin. 
“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 
“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head. 
“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked. 
“Come on, let’s go inside.”
He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water. 
“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.
“I’ll take care of it.”
You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you. 
“Now tell me what happened.”
“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently. 
Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.
“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off. 
Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode. 
So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side. 
About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says. 
“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.
“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”
“Did her father see you?”
“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.
“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing. 
“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.
“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”
“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead. 
“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking. 
“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”
“What is?”
“Ah, don’t make me say it!”
“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”
“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”
Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way. 
Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up. 
“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”
“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you. 
Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat. 
“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”
“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly. 
“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”
“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh. 
“Of course.”
“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”
Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth. 
“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”
“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance. 
“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”
Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms. 
“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”
“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper. 
“Did he hurt you?”
“Just… with his words.”
“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”
A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone. 
“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”
Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back. 
“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”
“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back. 
“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”
Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it. 
When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.
“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden. 
“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him. 
“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last. 
His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch. 
“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”
You hate how right he is, how well he knows you. 
“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.
“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”
“Did you just–”
“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”
Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out. 
“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.
“Exactly.”
There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest. 
“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you. 
“Sure.”
You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle. 
“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike. 
“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”
“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago. 
“Of course. Keep my seat open.”
Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.
“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”
You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night. 
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You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.
Or with somebody else.
Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside. 
However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since. 
Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.
You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes… 
You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with. 
But are you still in love with him?
One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self. 
“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”
“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.
“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”
“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.
“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”
Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side. 
“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”
“I’ll go with you.”
Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest. 
“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look. 
“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”
He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it. 
“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”
“Sure.” 
“Okay.”
“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”
His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…
“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”
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The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.
When he would actually act like someone who loves you. 
With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table. 
Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen. 
Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using  face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is. 
No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie. 
I am Ironman.
Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them. 
Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…
Andrea.
And Penelope.
And Bella.
And Riley.
Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.
But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note. 
You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye. 
Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.
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Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.
But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath. 
“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike. 
“Let’s get going.”
You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense. 
Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move. 
It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment. 
You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him. 
And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze. 
You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music. 
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.
“Not having fun, Harry?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level. 
“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it. 
“Am I doing something wrong?”
“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”
“Don’t stop what?”
“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”
“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.
“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.
“Except I’m not.”
You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore. 
“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”
His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly. 
It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.
You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in. 
You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence. 
You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more. 
For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything. 
You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly. 
“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets. 
It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road. 
As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it. 
But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver. 
“Tell me no at any point, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount. 
“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss. 
“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”
You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body. 
“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”
You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club. 
“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”
Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you. 
You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up. 
With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater. 
“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress. 
He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle. 
“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips. 
“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now. 
“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence. 
He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense. 
Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you. 
He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head. 
He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you. 
“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”
“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”
“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”
You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again. 
Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already. 
Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base. 
“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”
Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you. 
He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed. 
Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.
He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes. 
“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”
“Not until you—”
“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours. 
Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed. 
He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest. 
Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly. 
“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss. 
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A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.
It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well. 
Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.
There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?
Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.
“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”
“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic. 
“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him. 
It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.
“You thought I left,” he says. 
“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”
He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination. 
“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”
“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”
“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”
Oh, yeah. You remember that.
“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”
“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.
“Even if it takes forever.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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ipseitydelrey · 6 months
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your lips, my lips ☆ s. reid
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ship sub!spencer reid x fem!reader
content/warnings smutty smut (mdni 18+), mutual masturbation, mommy kink, accidental voyeurism, he sounds like a slut you can’t blame yourself
word count 2.5k
summary after spencer returns home early from a case, you come back home after work to find him in an incredibly compromised position.
a/n ignore the accidental hiatus, but hi !! im probably not going to be able to post at all in may bc im going to be in europe for the entire month. i’m posting this before going in a cave so…enjoy this as a treat!
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To put it briefly, Spencer was…awkward.
That’s not to discredit him, though. You can tell that he loves the team and you (especially you). Although he’s less awkward around people he trusts and has known for longer, he still can’t really speak up for what he wants.
And the poor boy is just so touch starved. It’s clear he’s practically clueless when it comes to other forms of intimacy aside from sympathetic hugs to friends or victims in a case. Hell, it even took a month since you started dating for Spencer to be comfortable huddling next to you on the couch; it took even longer for him to be fine with sharing the same bed.
You had barely done anything sexual yet. The closest you had probably gotten to something intimate like that with him was him involuntarily jutting his hips up into your ass when you were making out on the couch. You had hoped that he would continue to do that, especially with how you could feel his hardness pressing up against your core, but he got so flustered and started stammering out high-pitched apologies before moving away and retreating into the bathroom. You imagined that he probably took care of it, but knowing him, maybe he doesn’t jerk off.
You went with that assumption for a while since you — and especially him — hadn’t initiated anything potentially steamy. For him, makeout sessions were enough and although you wanted more, you were okay with indulging in him. You figured that with how touch starved he was, you should take it slow before moving on.
You got to leave work early, and you’re usually glad when that happens but today you’re especially happy because Spencer had just gotten back from a successful case a couple hours ago. When he landed, he immediately texted you, letting you know where he was. When you left your workplace, you had forgotten to text him that you’ll be home earlier than expected, but you’re sure that he wouldn’t mind.
After all, he’s probably just as excited to see you, if not more.
You don’t call out to him when you unlock and open the apartment door; he should hear that you’re home with the locking of the door and the tossing of the keys, as well as the rustle of your coat as you take it off and hang it up.
It’s quiet, but that isn’t really saying anything since it usually is. But you’d figured that he’d meet you at the doorway, which he didn’t.
Odd.
You’re just about to call out to him when you hear a peculiar and out-of-place sound: a moan.
Although it startles you a bit, you think that it was probably the neighbours; that doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense consdiering it’s coming from inside the apartment, but it’s more believable than…
Then you hear another one, and this time you can finally pinpoint its location. It sounds like it’s coming from the bedroom. Spencer? It’s not impossible, but you had just figured that he wouldn’t be the type to pleasure himself, especially with those sorts of reactions.
You slowly make your way towards the room in question, seeing that the door is slightly ajar, leaving a sliver for you to peer in.
What you find is a heavenly sight: Spencer, fully unclothed, splayed across the bed with his length in his fist. His pace is slow, but it’s still enough for him to whimper and moan quite audibly. His other hand is gripping tightly onto the sheets as his head pushes back against a pillow.
It’s perverted, but you feel as if you can’t tear yourself away from watching. At this point, you start to wonder if he knows you’re here or if he even heard you come into the apartment. You struggle to keep quiet as your panties grow damp, and you end up biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning at the sight.
The sound of his fist moving up and down his leaking cock is lewd, his precum dribbling down and even slightly coating his hand.
“o-oh m-mommy—” Him saying that is your breaking point, and you push the door open and enter the room.
He finally notices you and he pulls the sheets he was just grasping onto for dear life up to cover his throbbing dick. You were expecting him to do that; although what he was just doing was insanely hot, he’s still shy, even around you.
He looks away from you, clearly embarrassed he was caught. “Uh, I was— I— ah…” he attempts to explain himself but it leads nowhere. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispers, sounding defeated.
“Why are you sorry?” It’s not a needed question; you know exactly why he thinks so. You move to sit on the edge of the bed as he moves away, still having the sheets pulled up to cover himself. He stammers, but no words come out. He’s so flustered and red in his cheeks, you fear he’s about to pop.
He squirms in his position slightly while a tiny noise that you can barely hear escapes from his lips. A noise of discomfort, you recognize quickly, but you’re not sure if it’s because you just caught him in a private moment or if it’s because his cock is starting to get achy from the lack of stimulation.
“Baby,” you say in a more serious tone, leaning into the notion of his fantasy of you as his mommy, “why are you sorry?”
You stare at him, though you wish he could return your gaze. “Y-You probably feel…uncomfortable b-because—”
Softly, you shush him, holding a finger up against his lips, and you smile. “I’m not uncomfortable,” you assure him.
“You’re not?” he asks, his words vibrating against your index.
You shake your head as you pull your finger away from his lips, instead moving to grab his chin with a soft grip. His cheeks squish against your fingers softly, making his lips look even more plush and kissable. You push your lips against his gently, though it’s obvious that he’s eager from the way he pushes against your mouth to chase the kiss.
The way he whines when you pull away from him is so cute, you feel as if you want to give in to his need to have you closer to him. But he can tell that you want to do something else to satisfy him, so Spencer quiets down. Your hand, however, remains firmly yet softly gripping his jaw.
You look down at the sheets covering his lower half, his erection not-so-subtlety poking the thin fabric, and you glance back up at him. “Do you want me to…” you trail off before looking down at his boner again.
In all honesty, it takes Spencer a good second or two before he gets what you meant by that offer. “U-uh, well, ah…” he stutters. You’re not exactly sure what he wants and frankly neither is he. Based on his previous experiences with intimacy, you decide to not give him a blowjob, or even a handjob.
You both sit there in silence; you can practically cut the tension in the room with a knife. As you think of what to do — since you don’t just want to ignore it, nor do you want to leave him unsatisfied and awkward — Spencer squirms uncomfortably, shifting ever so slightly. His thighs accidentally clench together, squeezing his erection under the blanket, causing him to whimper softly. He silently hopes that you didn’t catch that noise he made, but you did…and it gave you an idea; one that will satisfy both of your urges.
“Do you wanna keep going?” You ask. He would probably much rather do this himself, although you don’t know how he would feel if he were to masturbate right in front of you.
He hesitates for a second, but he does nod shyly. You notice how he’s not meeting your gaze with his own, avoiding eye contact almost entirely. Instead, he’s looking in the direction of your waist.
Without informing him, you stand up and your hands quickly find their way to the buttons on your pants undoing them. Spencer watches with an air of anticipation and slight anxiety as you pull your pants down, a bit hastily and it definitely shows just how eager you are at this moment. Your underwear is certainly damp with how much this situation has you turned on and he can see it clearly too. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression as he sees the wetness, whether he’s nervous or intrigued, until you see him lick his lips — a motion that he only does when he’s excited.
At last, you peel off your soaked panties, but you keep your eyes on his face, wanting to see his reaction at seeing you half-naked. Sure, he’s seen you in your bra and panties before, but that was never sexual and only when you were changing clothes in front of him. He’s always looked away, the gentleman that he is, but he couldn’t resist taking a peek or two at your near-unclothed state. Just like how now, where he can see your bare pussy, glistening and wet, he just can’t resist staring.
He doesn’t mind it; no, not at all. In fact, it’s just making him even more excited, to the point where he slightly pulls down the sheets that are covering his dick — not enough to actually show his arousal, but enough to clearly see his happy trail, which has you salivating.
You get back on the bed, not bothering to take your shirt off as well. You just want to get started already, but you think it would be better if you know he’s comfortable with this whole situation first.
“Is this okay?” you ask, alluding to your nakedness as your thighs are slightly spread, giving him a nice view of your cunt.
He swallows and nods feverishly as his gaze continues to bore into your pussy; all of his attention seems to be focused there, which amuses you.
Deciding to take the initiative, your hand makes its way towards your core. You dip the tips of your fingers in your wet folds, collecting some of the slick and bringing it up to your clit, where you start to gently rub it in small and slow circles.
You hear Spencer’s breath hitch as you do this. It’s like you’re subtly encouraging him to do the same thing and start masturbating again, which is exactly what you’re going for.
He ends up pulling the covers off his pelvis completely, allowing you to see his cock-filled hand. You bite your lip at the sight of him starting to slowly stroke his length again, although timidly, as if he’s being judged. You’re not doing that, of course; you wouldn’t dare judge him for doing something so pleasing in front of you.
He keeps avoiding your gaze so you lean forward as you continue to massage your clit gently and you bring your other hand to tilt his head up by his chin to look at you. The eye contact you both have now is both awkward yet erotic. You’re not really doing anything with each other, you’re just two people touching themselves in front of the other.
A couple minutes into this shared experience, Spencer is starting to get more confident and less self-conscious. His strokes are getting longer and faster, making him produce more noises from his throat; mostly small whimpers with the occasional moan but by god, those small moans just get you going. You end up quickening your pace too and you let yourself make tiny whines too.
Eventually, your fingers move from your clit and back down to your folds, where you insert a finger into your cunt. The sound that falls from your lips after you do so is more motivation for Spencer to speed up again. You thrust your finger in and out at the same pace as his hand and you’re sure you both are imagining something more intimate at this point.
You add a second finger and then later on a third and now, a few minutes later, you’re both moving in sync and moaning up a storm. His moans are louder though, but you don’t mind at all. They just give you more reason to speed up and keep going.
Nearing the end, you’re wondering who’s going to cum first. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Spencer did so before you since he’s been jerking off for longer than you have but with the way the pleasure is building up in your stomach, you’re not entirely sure anymore; your mind is just focused on the intense pleasure and nothing else.
“O-oh god…” you hear him whine. Now you know who is going to finish first.
“You gonna cum, baby?” It takes you some effort to ask that question, especially since for the past ten or so minutes, you’ve just been touching yourselves without even talking.
“Mhm,” he hums in response as he nods. His hand is going at such a quick pace that you can clearly hear how his precum-coated palm is moving up and down his cock. “S’much, I…”
“It’s okay, honey,” you stammer out. Then, in your pleasure-fueled haze, an idea forms in your head. “You can cum. Cum for mommy~”
The use of that nickname for you really gets him going and he can no longer hold himself back. “M-mommy!” he cries out with a gasp for air as cum spurts out of the tip of his cock. He lets his head hang back and his eyelids flutter as his orgasm hits him and it’s beautiful for you to watch. It only motivates you to speed up even more, wanting to reach your peak as fast as possible. You probably shouldn’t rush it to savor the moment but in this case, rushing is fine to you.
After his intense orgasm, Spencer watches with bated breath as you cum. Your hips rock forward, practically riding your own fingers while your back arches and your murmurs grow incoherent. If he wasn’t tired, Spencer is pretty sure that he would be turned on again immediately just from watching you finger yourself. He is almost positive that you’re thinking of riding him instead of your fingers, and he would be correct in that assessment.
The pleasure slowly dissipates until you’re left with the incredibly awkward feeling of having just jerked off in front of your boyfriend. Both of you aren’t really sure what to say or what to do considering this was technically your first shared sexual experience since you had started dating.
“Um—” “So—” you both say at the same time. You don’t know how to move forward in a gracious manner, so you shyly get off the bed and put your underwear and pants back on. He still sits in the bedsheets, which are slightly damp from the sweat accumulated from the experience.
He moves towards the edge of the bed — towards you — and sits up straight, trying not to feel embarrassed that he’s still naked. And even though he felt uncomfortable about being touched while nude prior, he plants his lips on yours.
You weren’t expecting this but it’s a welcome surprise, as you chase his kiss with all the energy you have left; which isn’t a lot, but is enough. He breaks from the kiss, but leaves his forehead against yours as he looks at you like a dog.
“Thank you, mommy.”
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hopefully it wasn’t that bad <3 join the taglist
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synthetickitsune · 5 months
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Cozy and Comfy ✧ l.jh
Pairing: Lee Jihoon x gn!reader Genre: fluff Summary: Jihoon doesn’t understand why you like lying on top of him so much no matter how many times you explain. To be honest he isn't sure why he misses it when you suddenly stop but he'll get to the bottom of the mystery. Word count: 3.5k A/N: it's soft hours for woozi rn.
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There are a few things Jihoon values above all else. Some of these things are his privacy and personal space - understandably so, after living and spending most of his time with twelve other guys for a significant part of his life.
However, this is his private time now and even though he might not be the biggest fan of physical affection, his hand cradles your head to his chest. His other hand is on the small of your back to reassure you he’s there. 
You seem most satisfied like this, seeking out this exact position night after night whenever he comes home to you. He doesn’t mind, if he’s being completely transparent - he likes it too. This sort of intimacy that seems to help him recharge instead of draining him further. He wonders if it’s going to be the same once you live together, wonders if he’ll mind if this little ritual stops.
Jihoon remembers the beginning, when you shyly proposed the idea and he let you do whatever you wanted because he was curious. There was a wide smile on your face when you crawled between his legs and settled almost fully on top of him. You were adorable, gently rubbing your face against his chest. He teased you - are you a cat or what? He didn’t want you to get up, didn’t expect that you wouldn’t recognize the humor in his voice. Before he could say anything, his body reacted on its own to stop you. It felt even better when he was holding you, he discovered. And his touch was enough to let you know he wants you to stay right there.
And now here you are.
Today your hand is stretched slightly so you can play with his hair. It’s getting inconvenient at this length but he has to admit your attention makes it slightly better. He lets you mess with the tips and pull at them gently. He even allows you to loosely braid the strands you can reach. Maybe it’s that he’s already slowly drifting off, maybe it’s that he’s just in love.
He’d like to have more time with you, but the nights usually end like this - with him suddenly falling asleep before he can realize how tired he is and you waking him up so softly and gently he doesn’t mind it at all. It’s nice, if he’s honest. To have someone to trust, to have you slowly lead him to the bedroom. You look so sheepish after having to wake him up that it always feels like the first time you gave him the privilege to be led to your room. 
It’s the perfect way to spend the night. This way he gets to fall asleep next to you twice instead of just once.
Jihoon doesn’t understand why you like lying on top of him so much no matter how many times you explain. Not that he minds - he just can’t comprehend what you’re saying to him.
He doesn’t get your excited you’re so cozy and comfy. He gets that he’s warm, sure, or that you like hearing his heartbeat. He also likes it when you sometimes sneak your hand under his shirt and put it above his heart. Just as he’s fond of moments when nothing can help you relax but lying like this while you’re both naked, with nothing but a blanket covering you. Hell, it’s nice is fine too. But the rest of it? It’s just confusing.
What he also doesn’t understand, and what pretty much solves the question of whether he’d miss lying with you like this if you stopped doing it as often, is what’s been going on these past few days.
It’s not literally always that you lie on top of him, sometimes it’s too hot or you’re just not feeling as affectionate or one of you is in pain or sick. But none of this applies now. He knows this because it’s definitely not hot, he checked that you’re feeling fine, and you’re all over him otherwise. 
It’s just that you won’t take part in your little ritual. 
Last night you did for a bit but you were restless and squirming until you gave up and laid tucked into his side. Now, he’s not complaining about that - it also feels nice but it’s not exactly what he’s used to and what he started to look forward to each day that he’s spending with you.
On the fourth day he cracks and once he lies down, he opens his arms for you. Jihoon knows he’s cheating because you never say no if he explicitly asks for any type of affection. He figures there’s no harm, though, thinking that maybe you’re just feeling a little self conscious as you sometimes do. He sees the surprise on your face, feels reassured by the giddy laugh from your lips and how happily you take your place where you belong. He might hold you just a little tighter for a bit. Just maybe. He pretends he doesn’t know he’s doing it.
Yet even though everything seemed fine, like things returned to normal, they didn’t. You’re trying to hide it, but it’s impossible to mask your squirming when you’re literally on top of him.
“Is everything alright?” he asks, his brows furrowed into a concerned frown. Are you feeling uncomfortable with the position all of a sudden? Are you hurt? He trusts you to say something if that was the case, but maybe you needed some encouragement? Needed him to show that he cares? His hold loses some of its strength.
“Yeah, why?” you turn your head to look at him. To your credit, you keep lying on him, and even if your voice is nothing but curious, he feels like you’re calling him out. Daring him to say he misses the affection he sometimes playfully teases you about. He contemplates for a moment before he decides that he trusts you. Really trusts you. And he’s… worried.
He might not understand what you mean by him being cozy and comfy to lay on but he knows it’s what he wants to be. He doesn’t think anything about him changed, so he wonders if maybe he did something that changed your perception of him. He licks his lips, ready, and then groans nonetheless. He knows you won’t tell anyone, but still…
“It’s just, uh, you don’t seem comfortable and I don’t know, did something happen? Did I do something?”
His hand moves from the back of your head to your face, gently caressing your face with his fingers. Did you maybe just feel uncomfortable sharing whatever is the issue with him? He doesn’t know why you’d feel that way, but he’s ready to do whatever he needs to if it means getting your trust back.
“Hey, Jihoon,” you call his name softly, as if you knew just what was going on in his head. You scoot closer to him, a movement which naturally makes him curl an arm around your waist. “It’s nothing. It’s really nothing.”
“Yeah?” he asks and immediately cringes at how defensive he sounds, “Sorry.”
You smile and pull away, slowly moving to straddle him once he lets you. Soon you guide his hands back to your waist. 
“Have you started working out more?” you ask and it makes the frown on Jihoon’s face deepen.
“No, I don’t think so,” he shrugs. If anything, it was a struggle to fit the work outs into his schedule. He couldn’t have more of them if he wanted to. “Why? Do you think I should - or should work out less?”
“No, not at all,” you’re quick to reassure him, “It’s just that your body is, uhm, harder lately.”
Your voice gets weaker towards the end, but not enough that he would have trouble hearing you, although he can’t really imagine what you mean. 
“Explain?” he asks, blinking a couple times. You groan, leaning down to hide your face in his shoulder.
“It’s just that, well, usually you’re kind of soft and comfortable? Like not soft soft but just, I don’t know, nice to lay on,” you rush with the explanation but that’s okay - so far Jihoon understands nothing anyway, “But lately you’re so hard - your body, I mean. Like you’re turning into a rock or something. Are you sure you’re not overdoing it at the gym?”
It’s a bit too much information that he doesn’t know what to do with. Again, he’s not sure what you mean exactly, so he stares at you for a second or two before he finally speaks up.
“We started adding more weights recently, so maybe,” he shrugs.
“And you didn’t notice something is different?” you ask, rising from your hiding spot. You seem confused - just as confused as he is.
“Well it’s not like I poke myself to know what my body feels like, y/n,” he deadpans, “I’m more sore but something hurts all the time, so I can’t say I noticed much of a difference.”
He watches as your expression morphs into one of concern and he’s so grateful for his quick reflexes that allow him to pull you down before you can get up from his lap. “What’s wrong?”
“You tell me when it hurts, right?” you ask, worrying your lip between your teeth. He smiles softly and nods. He’s glad when you relax, but he keeps his hands on your hips anyway. “You rest enough, right?”
He resists rolling his eyes and just confirms instead. “You know I have to take care of my body if I want to do this for a long time - and that includes rest.”
“And eating proper meals,” you remind him. He chuckles, agreeing with you easily. “If you’re short on time and need a meal quickly just let me know.”
He smiles, bringing one of your hands to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. He’s grateful for you, truly. But he can’t help but wonder if you know how much you’re actually doing for him. If you’re aware even all the little things add up.
“I appreciate that, but you know I can just order-” 
Before he can finish the sentence, there’s a finger pressed against his lips. He doesn’t protest upon seeing the determination in your eyes. “You know what I want to say, right?”
“Of course,” he sighs, his lips still turned up, “And you know I enjoy when you cook for me.”
The way you beam at him one would think he’s never told you before. But he did. Every time. Because it was true and the least he could do.
It gets quiet for a while, but Jihoon’s happy enough to know that nothing’s wrong. He knows his overworked muscles will eventually get stronger and heal, returning to their original consistency that was apparently soft but not soft soft. There’s always a chance that you’ll get over your fondness for this particular position, but that’s something only time will tell. For what it’s worth in the eyes of fate, he hopes you never will.
With the crisis over, his body starts to feel the day again. As if all the aches simply hid to make room for his insecurity and only now started to come back once the air cleared. He tries to push back the yawn, but fails yet again. He hears you shake your head, well familiar with the sight. He holds you tighter before you can think about leaving.
“We can move to bed, you’ll fall asleep soon anyway,” you rub your hands over his chest, but Jihoon is nothing if not stubborn. So despite his aching body, he flips you sideways and traps you between his body and the edge of the couch. He takes more pride than he probably should from the fact that you cling to him despite his not soft body. He’s holding you. He wouldn’t let you fall. 
“In a while, I like this thing we have,” he mumbles, taking advantage of your face still buried in his chest where you can’t see the longing in his eyes.
You know it’s a lost fight anyway, and it’s not hard to oblige when the prize is being held by Jihoon and relaxing watching whatever you put on. He always tells you that the pillows are more comfortable than him, but you’re pretty sure you saw him frowning while you took one to put under your head.
You settle into a more comfortable position with your back against his chest and his arm loosely thrown over your waist. You can’t even remember the last time you spooned like this. It’s nice. Regardless, you miss your usual position. It allows you to watch him once he falls asleep, and his heartbeat is nicer under your palm or your ear instead of against your spine.
It doesn’t take long for you to feel as his breathing evens out against your neck. His face is buried in your hair and you don’t understand how that can be comfortable. You won’t complain, though, when you are so perfectly surrounded by his warmth. You feel your own eyes becoming heavy. You’re actually looking forward to your bed, but you don’t have the heart to wake up Jihoon yet. It’s always a gamble, trying to allow him to sleep for as long as you can without falling asleep yourself, but you have yet to lose. You are responsible for his comfort, after all. And that’s a job you do best.
Things get back to how they were eventually. Jihoon’s body regenerated enough that it’s returned to the cozy state now, even though he still has some reservations regarding the label. One day you went as far as to call his biceps squishy, which he has yet to process. 
Overall, though, things are peaceful.
Just as he wanted.
Only today was tough. Really tough.
One of those days he’s so grateful he could cry for taxis being a thing. He doesn’t know how he’d make it home otherwise and still he managed to doze off in the car. At least he’s familiar enough with the route to your apartment that he can manage it even half asleep. It’s a small miracle he doesn’t stumble and fall on the stairs.
You on the other hand think it’s a miracle he’s made it this far without passing out cold.
The moment you opened the door - or more precisely the moment you had to open the door you knew something was wrong. If your boyfriend can’t even unlock the door himself, something is very wrong.
It’s heartbreaking to see him like this, but at least he’s out of it enough not to mind your concerned gaze on him as he shoos you away so he can take off his shoes. A herculean task it seems because it takes him forever. You’re close to telling him to just come in anyway when he pulls them off at the last second.
You help him straighten up under the guise of taking off his jacket - something he usually doesn’t allow either, but it’s not wildly off limits. Neither is hugging him as a greeting. If you cling to him a little to help him to the bedroom, that’s between you and the sky above because you believe he falls asleep on you for a minute there. A belief that comes concerningly close to being the truth when he blinks and looks around the room as if he had no idea where he is.
“This is the bedroom,” he slurs the words together, but at least you know he’s not sleepwalking yet.
“Yeah - look at you, Jihoon. Where else do you think we should be?” you chide, gently. He can be moody when he’s tired, though you think he’s not in a state where his brain is capable of processing something as complex as a mood.
Instead of answering, he nods in the vague direction of the living room. You have half a mind to scold him, but then think better of it. Another thing about tired Jihoon is that he’s even more stubborn. 
“Okay, sure, we can go there, but wash up first, hm?” you instruct him and turn to walk away when he grabs your wrist. His hand falls limply back down, but it achieves what he wanted.
“Why? I’ll do it later,” he argues, frown pulling at his features.
“You won’t, love, and we both know it. Now, you can either wash up yourself while I heat up some food, or I can help you and then get you the food, so?” 
One more thing about Jihoon is that he’s infuriatingly determined to take care of himself without relying on others. Especially when it comes to you.
He’s getting better though. You see it when his lips pout slightly but he still gets up and heads to the bathroom.
You take that as your sign to head to the kitchen to warm up the soup you made earlier. It’s not much, but you hope he’ll be stronger later and you’ll manage to persuade him to eat a proper meal. For now, though, the soup will have to do. You don’t think he would manage anything requiring him to put actual effort into eating.
Just as you begin pouring the warm substance into a bowl, you hear footsteps in the living room. You follow their trail across the room in your head and then breathe a sigh of relief at the soft thud where the couch should be. You carry the soup over, not too hot, just the right temperature to eat.
Jihoon is already sitting there, although it looks like he’d much rather fall sideways and sleep. You hand him the bowl carefully, however you never get to give him the spoon as he just drinks the liquid straight from the bowl. You sigh, but leave him to it and carry the utensil back to the kitchen. He’s done with the soup when you return, but he looks so miserable that you decide to put the dirty dish further away on the table and deal with it later. 
You sit down next to him but don’t stay put for too long, lying down and opening your arms for him. He looks at you with pure confusion.
“What are you doing?”
“Come on,” you sigh, motioning for him to lay down. He looks hesitant, if a bit more awake.
“I’m heavy,” he counters.
“Weighted blanket. Stop fighting and just lay down. I’ll push you off if it’s too much,” you raise your brows at him in a clear challenge. He might be more stubborn, but you’d win this fight since you wouldn’t fall asleep halfway through it. He sighs, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath. He does move though, and you make space for him between your legs, helping him settle over your body. All that working out and yet he struggles to hold himself above you, his body shaking with the effort.
“It’s alright, lie down,” you coax him, slowly. He all but melts over you once your bodies touch, like butter on a warm toast. He looks so comfortable you feel a little bad for guiding him to a more comfortable position with his head on your chest. It’s for him to lay comfortably, of course, but it also gives you easy access to his hair. 
First you smooth any stray hair away from his face, maybe taking just a second to caress his skin while he allows the affection. Your fingers glide through the locks without any trouble. Again and again you brush your fingers through them, enjoying the texture, scratching across his scalp like you know he likes. You think how much you’ll miss this when he cuts his hair short again.
“Stop, I’ll fall asleep,” he murmurs, words barely recognizable, “I haven’t asked about your day yet.”
You sigh - try to, really hard you try, but fail harder. You just laugh, in love. 
“It wasn’t anything special,” you assure him, “There’s always later if you’re curious.”
You think he tries to nod, a little jerk of his head against your chest. He presses his face further into your chest, his ear right above your heart. You know the feeling well, holding your breath - hoping. Hoping he’ll find the same comfort in you as you find in him.
“It’s really nice,” he more so breathes than whispers. And soon enough, his breathing slows down and evens out, his body getting heavier like a blanket pushing you into the cushions of the couch.
You smile for a second, and then return to playing with his hair.
This is what home should feel like, you decide. Like the trust he puts in you by letting his guard down, like the unconditional love he shows you by always holding you while he falls asleep - but also like the safety in knowing there will be a new day and nothing will change.
You’ll still have each other.
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nathaslosthershit · 7 months
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A Much Needed Interview (OP81)
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(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.
“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.
‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.
“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”
“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”
“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”
“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 
“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”
“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.
“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.
“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”
“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.
“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”
“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”
“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”
“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”
“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”
“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”
“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.
“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”
“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”
The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 
Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.
Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.
“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.
“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 
In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.
Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.
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fastandcarlos · 27 days
Text
Sleepy Bug : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz
summary: it's the surprise of a lifetime for carlos as you flew halfway around the world for him, and as jetlag greets you, carlos is determined to see you getting the rest you deserve
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A heavy sigh escaped from you as your hands brushed over your face, dancing lazily through your strands of hair. Your eyes were heavy as you struggled to keep them open, the effects of many busy days at work, coupled with your last minute to fly halfway around the world to support Carlos for the weekend were taking their toll. 
You barely had the strength to carry yourself around the bathroom as you finished your night routine, stretching your fingertips out to turn the light off so you didn’t have to take any more steps than you needed to.  
“Come here you,” Carlos smiled, extending his arm out across the bed, inviting you to fill the space that was beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so tired in my life.” 
You hummed in response as you placed your phone down, tossing the clothes you’d taken off into your suitcase. “As much as I love coming to support you, jetlag is my worst enemy right now, I can’t begin to tell you how much I hate it.” 
Once you were sorted, you threw yourself down onto the bed and rested your head against Carlos' arm, feeling him drape the duvet over your frame so that you could get as much warmth from it as possible. 
“How’s that now?” 
“It’s almost perfect.” 
“Only almost perfect?” Carlos chuckled. 
You hummed as you rolled further into Carlos' side, tucking yourself into him as tightly as you possibly could. Carlos' hand moved from the top of your shoulder to your waist, allowing his head to rest down against the top of yours with a kiss against it for extra comfort. 
“Now it’s perfect,” you whispered, resting your hand against Carlos' chest. “I think I could stay here forever with how sleepy I feel right now.” 
“I just can’t believe you’re here,” Carlos chuckled, keeping his eyes on you, watching you closely. “I was all prepared to fall asleep in this big bed all by myself tonight, wishing that you were here with me. And now here you are, as if you knew just how much I wanted to have you here.” 
It was the surprise of a lifetime for Carlos never expecting you to be there. The excitement he felt when he opened his hotel room door to see you stood before him was a feeling that he knew would not be matched for some time. 
Carlos never took for granted the sacrifices that you made for him, for most of the week you’d called him and told him about how tired and stressed work had left you, yet you still found the energy to fly out and make sure that you were there for him. 
“I don’t have to be at the track until lunch tomorrow, so we’ve got plenty of time to lay here and make sure that you catch up on all your sleep too,” Carlos informed you, keeping his fingers tracing along your skin. 
You nodded in response, too tired to muster up a proper reply. However as you began to think about tomorrow, you couldn’t help but begin to worry about all the logistics that came with being a driver’s girlfriend. 
“Will they let me in tomorrow? We haven’t organised a pass or anything,” you reminded Carlos , your voice a faint whisper that he could only just understand. 
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all under control,” Carlos assured you, “whilst you were in the bathroom, I made all the necessary calls and made sure you have access for everywhere for the whole weekend.” 
There was nowhere else that Carlos wanted you than by his side now that you were there. As soon as he saw you, he knew what he had to do, and luckily for him, Ferrari was always incredibly accommodating to you.  
The longer that time passed, Carlos could see you struggling to stay awake more and more. “Rest, sleepy bug,” Carlos told you, not wanting you to stay awake just for him. 
“That’s a new one,” you chuckled at the surprise new nickname that came from Carlos . He was forever creating new names for you, toying with finding ones that he knew would stick. 
The smile on your face was everything that Carlos needed to know that this was yet another nickname that he could add to his least of ones to use and surprise you with when you least expected them. They were nicknames that he would never share with anyone else, keeping them safe between just the two of you, not quite wanting to show that side of him to the rest of the world. 
“You need to sleep,” Carlos smirked as your voice perked up once again, “I can’t begin to imagine how tired you must be after all the work and travelling you’ve done over the past few days, you must be insane.” 
“It’s worth it,” you assured him, “being here to cheer you on is always my favourite thing to do.” 
Yet another kiss was planted to the top of your head as Carlos spoke, “I don’t think I’ve really told you yet just how much it means to me to have you here, I can’t believe you came here for me, no one’s done anything like this for me before.” 
“I’m your biggest fan, I’ve got to be here,” you reminded him, pressing gently against his toned chest. “It’s worth it for all these moments anyway, when I get to have you all to myself.” 
Carlos hummed in agreement with you, “these are the moments that mean the most, like it’s only the two of us who exist in this crazy world.” 
“That would be nice,” you laughed, “but unfortunately I have to share you with thousands of fans.” 
“None of them compare to you though.” 
“So cheesy,” you teased, feeling Carlos jab in against your side. “I wonder how you do it sometimes.” 
Carlos' eyes rolled at your remark, knowing exactly what you were like. You loved to make fun of him, tease him, but he would never want for it to be any other way. As silence descended once again, Carlos felt your body relax in his hold, the sign he needed to know that you were feeling sleepy once again.  
“Close your eyes,” Carlos instructed, tilting his head to make sure that he could see you doing so. “As much as I love you, I don’t want to talk to you anymore, I just want to make sure that you’re finally getting the rest that you deserve.” 
Your head shook against Carlos' chest, “that’s rude,” you teased, hearing him scoff above you. 
“I said I love you,” he laughed, “but you’re so sleepy, it’s what you need.” 
“I’ll sleep if you sleep,” you suggested, “you’ve got a pole position to achieve tomorrow, it’s the least you could do considering I’ve flown all the way out here for you.” 
“I’ll make sure that I’m pole just for you,” Carlos whispered, making his promise to you, “knowing you’re cheering me on in the garage will be the boost I’ll need to get it too.” 
You never doubted Carlos' ability, knowing just how capable he was to get his car at the front of the grid. 
“Come on sleepy bug,” Carlos smiled, “goodnight my love.” 
“Goodnight Carlos.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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simpjaes · 5 months
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heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️
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MDNI.
this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k
tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)
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It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him. 
It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.
Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it. 
Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights. 
Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask. 
You already know. He’s had a bad day.
So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.
And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.
When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you. 
And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him. 
Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s. 
The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker. 
It’s always you who can distract him. 
And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.
Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more. 
Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern. 
Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything. 
And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.
It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more. 
Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?
“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says. 
And, of course, you do. 
“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place. 
“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?” 
You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.
You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe. 
“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”
“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”
You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you. 
It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible. 
He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to. 
So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.
You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears. 
He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him. 
Him, him, him. 
And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible. 
God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him. 
And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way. 
It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget. 
And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits? 
Out of respect, no less. 
“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation. 
Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.
It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back. 
Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl. 
“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now. 
After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for. 
And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs. 
Hah. 
“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”
You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust. 
“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back. 
”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark. 
You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely. 
Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him. 
He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face. 
“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him. 
And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality. 
By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice. 
“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.” 
You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you. 
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Instacrush
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max verstappen x reader
Content warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, language, daddy kink, pining, flirting, possessive behavior, one bed trope,...
Word count: almost 7k 
Note: I'm gonna add a smau at the end so keep reading!
My masterlist
The engagement ring on your finger suited you perfectly. It wasn’t overly large or flashy, but the single diamond gave off a subtle, delicate sparkle. It was beautiful and felt just right, symbolizing the love and unity of marriage. When you looked at it in the light, you almost thought you could feel the love Max had for you.
If only that were true.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” you asked, sitting down at the table across from Max.
“So we can practice and make sure we seem like a real couple,” he replied.
You sighed, your gaze once again drifting around the hotel room. There was a small sitting area, a dining space connected to a kitchenette, one bathroom, and a bedroom. You had already pointed out the single bed, and Max, ever the professional, reminded you that part of the assignment meant you were expected to share it. After all, this was a couple’s retreat. It wouldn’t have been a problem—if only you didn’t have a crush on him.
If only it were that simple.
You were completely enamoured with Max Verstappen, the handsome three-time F1 World Champion. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was the first time you met him on your first day at work. You were so caught up looking around the paddock, so excited for your first time ever set foot in the land of speed. You were just an intern working in the social media department. Landing a job during the global economic recession was a dream come true for you, not to mention, working for such a big and top-tier team like Red Bull. And that’s where you bumped into him, his can of Red Bull splashed all over your new team uniform. And honestly, you didn’t remember much since you were busy looking staring at his eyes. The bluest eyes you have ever seen. It was like the water in the ocean in  Maldives that you once saw in some travel magazines. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.
Just the two of you.
“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”
“What? No. Max, you aren't a terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty,” you said. 
“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you added.
“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”
You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a few months just to back to being coworkers after?
“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.
He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Max. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”
You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much-needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”
With an exhale, you recited, “We met at the track. Both slammed into each other. Both said sorry at the same time”
“And you gave me your hands for me to get up,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”
“And we immediately befriended at first,” he smiled.
Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “We did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went on that reserved dinner with the team and talked a bit about ourselves.” 
It was all the truth, except for the fact that you guys were never more than friends since he was with Kelly, and you. Well, you were just you, there’s nothing really special about you for him to like. You aren’t those supermodels he used to date, nor have the skinniest body type, you are chubbier, with red hair and freckles across your cheeks. Before accepting his request to be in a PR relationship with him just so he gets along with the image of not being a notorious playboy who drives a fast car as an occupation, you did ask him WHY YOU? WHY NOT SOME OTHER GIRLS? AND LET’S BE HONEST ANY OTHER GIRLS WHO ARE PRETTIER WOULD DIE TO FILL IN THE JOB, SO WHY YOU? He just stood there looking at you once again with the deepest set of blue eyes that made your knees go weak, We are friends so this is what a friend should do, right? Help each other out. And y/n I really need your helping hands now. 
“Even proposed to you at the same restaurant,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.
The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.
Not that you had to do any acting on your part.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone. 
The silence between you two was deafening, filled only by the sound of your own heart breaking. You longed for his words to be true, for him to truly want you as his girlfriend. But deep down, you knew it was all pretend. Your fingers fidgeted with the ring again, a constant reminder of the lie you were living. The weight of the situation was almost unbearable. 
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, what a briliant story you have in mind,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.
“Well, it was true, y/n.” 
You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. 
“Most of it only, Max. Anyway, enough of that. Let’s move on,”
Max looked unsatisfied with your response, his blue eyes searching your face. He could tell you were deflecting, which was both attractive and frustrating. “Okay then. How about we move on to the next part of our relationship? The first date.” He leaned back in his chair and you mimicked his movement. 
“Ah, our first date,” you said, the memory bringing a smile to your face. “It was a classic dinner-and-a-movie type date, right?”
Max chuckled at your summation of your first date. “Yeah, it was pretty basic, but it was our first date,” he said, his voice low. “I wanted to keep things simple and focus on just the two of us. No fancy restaurants or anything like that.”
You recalled how nervous you were leading up to the date, spending hours trying to figure out what to wear and worrying about what to say. In hindsight, you didn’t need to have been so worried.
“But you looked beautiful that night,” Max continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “You always do.”
You tried to ignore the way your heart quickened at his compliment. How was it that Max Verstappen, F1 World Champion, and certified heartthrob, could say something so casually that made you feel like the most beautiful woman alive? 
“Thanks, Max,” you said, your cheeks starting to heat up. You twisted the ring on your finger, your nervous habit making its appearance. “You looked pretty good yourself, if I remember correctly.”
Max chuckled softly, his eyes fixated on your hand. “Are you nervous, Schatje?” he teased, a playful sparkle in his blue eyes. “You’re fiddling with your ring again.”
Your cheeks flushed even more. You should be used to his teasing by now, especially after the time you two had spent together recently while preparing for this PR mission. And yet, every time he called you darling, your heart would do somersaults in your chest. 
“No, I’m not,” you denied, knowing how unconvincing you sounded. “Just… practicing my part, you know. For the acting thing.”
Max’s eyes darkened slightly as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the armrest. He knew that you were avoiding something, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”
He began to recite the next bit of their cover story. “What’s our favorite couple activity?”
You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the mention of couple activity. "Well," you began, your voice shaky, "our favorite couple activity is definitely cooking together. It's a great way for us to bond and spend quality time together." 
“Well it must be you will be the chef and I’m your assistant then, since I couldn’t even boil an egg to save my life, Liefje.”
Max's self-deprecating comment took you a little by surprise. You were used to seeing him as the confident, world-class athlete on the track, not as a hopeless cook in the kitchen.
You chuckled softly at his admission. "Well, I guess you'll have to stick to being my sous-chef then. I can teach you a thing or two in the kitchen."
Max groaned exaggeratedly. "I suppose I'll have to stick to fetching the ingredients and looking pretty," he joked.
You rolled your eyes playfully at his remark, unable to stop yourself from smiling. "Yes, you can be the pretty one, Max. I'll do all the hard work in the kitchen."
He chuckled, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. "Well, I guess I should be thankful that I have a gorgeous girl doing all the cooking for me, then."
His compliment left you feeling warm and tingly, but you tried to brush it off and stay focused on the task at hand.
"But you have to promise me one thing, Max," you insisted, trying to maintain your composure. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your condition. "What's that, Schatje?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.
You leaned forward a bit, your eyes meeting his. "You have to be my personal taste tester. Gotta make sure everything is just right."
Max chuckled at your condition, a smirk playing at his lips. "Ah, so I'm not only your sous-chef, but I also get the privilege of being your taste-tester?" he teased.
You nodded, a sly smile of your own on your lips. "That's right. You'll be my human guinea pig. No complaining, just eating." Max groaned dramatically, pretending to look disappointed.
Despite his initial reluctance, Max couldn't help but smile at your cheeky request. "Okay, okay, I'll be your taste-tester on one condition," he countered.
Your curiosity piqued, you asked, "And what's that?"
Max leaned forward, his eyes meeting yours, "You have to give me one of your special desserts afterward."
You laughed, surprised at his audacity. "Oh, now you're pushing it, Verstappen," you quipped. "But I suppose I can throw in a dessert for you, as a token of my appreciation for your taste-testing services."
Max leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "Deal," he said, a playful grin on his face. "Let's hope your cooking skills are as good as your baking, Liefje."
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.
The switch in topic jarred you. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”
It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.
“I’m curious,” he shrugged.
You swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer. Truth be told, your life was dominated by work, leaving little time for relationships. But if you explained that to Max, he'd probably just call you a workaholic and laugh. He was the epitome of work hard, play just as hard.
"I don't know," you finally said, trying to sound casual. "I guess I just haven't found the right person."
Max scrutinized you but didn't press the topic further. Instead, he took a sip of his water, his eyes never leaving your face. Max wasn't buying your nonchalant attitude. He leaned back in his chair, still watching you closely. "I don't believe you. You're a beautiful woman, and yet you're single."
The compliment caught you off guard. Coming from Max Verstappen, the three-time FIA Formula One World Champion, it was a lot to take in. Trying to keep your cool, you retorted, "You don't have to flatter me, Max. I know I'm not some supermodel or something."
Max's lips curled up into a sly smile. He leaned even closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Who said anything about comparing you to a supermodel?" he teased.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his proximity. He was even more attractive up close, with his sharp features and those intense blue eyes. Despite your best attempts to keep your cool, you found yourself blushing again.
"Come on, Schatje," Max said, his voice dropping an octave. "Just tell me why you don't have a boyfriend."
The intensity in Max's eyes was almost overwhelming. You fidgeted nervously in your seat, feeling increasingly flustered under his gaze. Why was he so insistent on this topic? You tried to come up with a witty retort, a clever way to deflect, but your mind was drawing a blank. His intense gaze made it hard to think straight. "It's not a big deal, Max," you finally managed to say, your voice betraying your growing nervousness.
"Bullshit." He leaned back in his chair, studying you once again. "You're avoiding the question. There must be a reason why you don't have a boyfriend."
Max's persistence made you feel inexplicably flustered. He was so adamant about knowing the reason behind your single status. You wracked your brain, trying to come up with a convincing answer that wouldn't give away your secret. But the more you fidgeted and avoided his gaze, the more he seemed to be onto you. "Come on, y/n,” he coaxed again, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his legs. "Just give me a straight answer."
Max's smirk widened as he saw the effect he was having on you. He could tell he was making you nervous, and that only made him more determined to get the answer he wanted. "You're making this even more suspicious, you know," he said, his voice laced with gentle mockery. "The more you avoid the question, the more interested I become."
There was something about the way Max said that that sent a shiver down your spine. Was he just teasing you, or was there a hint of genuine interest in his voice? It was hard to tell. "You're relentless, you know that?" you mumbled, trying to cover your nerves with sarcasm.
Max chuckled, clearly enjoying how much he was getting under your skin. "I can be very persistent when I want something."
Max's admission sent a flutter through your stomach. He was relentless in his pursuit of an answer, and it was both frustrating and exhilarating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "And you always get what you want, don't you?" you retorted, aiming for a tone of sarcasm.
Max chuckled at your attempt at sarcasm. He seemed unfazed as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixated on you. "I do, usually," he agreed. "But you're proving to be quite the challenge, y/n."
He took in your flushed cheeks and shifting eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.
Max's gaze seemed to pierce through you, reading your every reaction. "You're blushing like a schoolgirl, Schatje," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
His observant nature was both impressive and irritating. You tried to compose yourself, to appear unfazed by his words. But the more he teased, the more flustered you became.
The sound of your phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,”  you muttered, “It’s Christian. I better-”
“Yeah, you should answer that,” he said, “I think I'm going to call it a night. It was simply lovely to have such a conversation with you, Lief”
You watched as Max stood from the table, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he stretched his arms over his head. The way his shirt pulled tight against his muscles didn’t escape your notice, but you quickly turned your focus to your phone. Christian’s name flashed on the screen, a reminder that despite the playful teasing and lingering tension, you were still on assignment.
Clearing your throat, you answered the call, doing your best to sound professional. “Hey, Christian. What’s up?”
Max lingered by the doorway to the bedroom, his blue eyes still watching you as he leaned casually against the frame. The man was frustratingly calm and composed, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several minutes flustering you beyond belief.
“Just checking in. Wanted to make sure everything’s running smoothly with you and Max,” Christian’s voice came through the speaker.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied, glancing at Max again. He raised an eyebrow, clearly hearing the conversation. “We’re just going over the cover story. Making sure we’re on the same page for tomorrow.”
“Good, good. Remember, we need you two to look convincing as a couple. This retreat is high-profile, and we can’t afford any slip-ups. Play the part, but don’t overdo it,” Christian said.
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Got it. We’ll be convincing.”
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you ended the call and set your phone down, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Max was still standing in the doorway, his gaze soft but unreadable.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost concerned.
“Yeah,” you replied, though your heart still raced from the earlier tension. “Just… trying to make sure I don’t mess this up.”
Max pushed himself off the doorframe and took a few steps closer to you. “You won’t. You’re doing great, Schatje. Better than I expected, actually.”
The compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—there was more behind his words than simple encouragement. But you couldn’t afford to let your hopes get the better of you. This was a job. Nothing more.
“Well, I guess I should get some sleep too,” you said, standing up from the table. “Big day tomorrow.” Max nodded, his eyes flicking briefly to the bed in the other room. “Right. About the bed…”
You froze, realizing that you had been so caught up in the conversation earlier that you hadn’t given the sleeping arrangement much thought. But now, with the two of you standing there in a hotel room alone, the reality of sharing a bed with Max Verstappen hit you like a freight train.
“I can take the couch,” he offered quickly, sensing your hesitation.
“No, Max. It’s fine. We’re supposed to be a couple, right? Couples share beds.” You tried to sound confident, but your voice wavered slightly.
Max’s lips quirked into a small smile. “True. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
You shook your head, summoning what little courage you had left. “I’ll be fine. It’s just sleeping. No big deal.”
Max didn’t argue, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something unreadable. He gestured towards the bedroom. “Ladies first.”
You swallowed hard and walked towards the bed, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Max followed close behind, and as you both climbed into the bed, the space between you felt like an ocean. You were hyper-aware of every movement, every breath.
Max lay on his back, one arm resting behind his head, while you kept to your side, facing away from him. The silence was thick, the air filled with unspoken thoughts.
“Goodnight, y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Goodnight, Max,” you replied, your voice tight with nerves.
You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall asleep. But the warmth of Max’s body next to you, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all too distracting. You tried to push the thoughts away, reminding yourself that this was all pretend. That Max Verstappen didn’t see you as anything more than a colleague helping him out.
But as the minutes ticked by, sleep continued to evade you, and you couldn’t help but wonder—what if?
What if this wasn’t just pretend? What if Max felt the same pull, the same unspoken connection that you did? What if, somewhere in the midst of this fake relationship, something real was beginning to bloom?
You shook your head at the thought, frustrated with yourself for even entertaining such a ridiculous idea. Max was a superstar, a world champion, and you were just… you.
But as you lay there, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beside you, it was hard to ignore the tiny spark of hope flickering in your chest.
Maybe—just maybe—there was more to this story than either of you realized.
You shifted slightly in bed, careful not to disturb Max, who was still lying quietly beside you. You glanced over at him, only to find that his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, turning his head to look at you.
You shook your head, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze. "Too much on my mind, I guess."
Max smiled faintly. "Same here."
There was a brief silence between you, and in the quiet of the night, it felt like the weight of unspoken words was suffocating. You wanted to ask him if this was all just a game to him, if he felt the same tension you did, but you were too afraid of the answer.
Instead, you settled for something safer. "Do you ever get tired of it? The pressure, the constant spotlight?"
Max turned his head fully towards you, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes. It’s part of the job, though. I’ve learned to live with it. But yeah, there are days when it gets overwhelming."
You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I get that. It’s hard to find balance when the whole world is watching."
Max's eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like the walls between you two were crumbling. "Yeah. But it’s not all bad, you know? There are people who make it easier."
You looked at him, your heart fluttering at the implication of his words. Was he talking about you? Or was this just part of his charm?
Before you could respond, Max shifted closer, closing the small gap between you. His proximity made your heart race, and you held your breath as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
"You make it easier, y/n," he whispered, his voice low and sincere.
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was no more pretending, no more acting for the sake of the mission. It was just the two of you, lying in the dark, and suddenly, it felt like everything you had been holding back was on the verge of spilling over.
"Max," you whispered, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the right words.
But before you could say anything more, Max leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. You imagined Max kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered. You never really stood a chance before him. 
“So, you like me? Was that why you kissed me, or, ” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole acting and pretending thing ahead and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”
Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and teasing you.” He said. “You know Kelly dumped me because I remembered your coffee order when we were at the hospitality not hers,”
You stared at Max in shock, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. Kelly dumped him over... you?
"You remembered my coffee order?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Max chuckled softly, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek as he held your gaze. "Yeah," he replied. "Every single time. It wasn't something I planned to memorize, but I guess I couldn't help it. You’ve always been in the back of my mind, even when I didn’t realize it." You blinked, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions. All the late-night conversations, the teasing, the moments when his touch lingered a little longer than necessary—it all clicked into place. He wasn’t just playing a part. He liked you. Max liked you.
"You really are an idiot," you said with a breathy laugh, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. The tension between you two, the unspoken feelings, had been weighing on you for so long, but now everything felt so clear.
Max grinned, his face inches from yours. "Takes one to know one," he teased, his lips brushing against yours again.
You leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. This time it wasn’t tentative or cautious. It was everything you had been holding back, all the feelings you had suppressed because you thought it was just part of the job, part of the act.
But this was real. You were real.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. Max’s forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your hands.
"Guess we’re going to have to make this mission even more believable now, huh?" Max murmured, his voice filled with that same teasing warmth.
You smiled, biting your lip as you looked up at him. "We might have to practice a little more, just to make sure we’re convincing enough."
Max laughed, a sound that sent warmth coursing through your veins. "I think we can manage that." 
A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Max Verstappen liked you. Wanted you. “Please do,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.
He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.
Like he wanted to own you.
His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.
Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.
You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.
“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”
You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the driver was an entirely different level of gorgeous. “Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”
The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth, suckling gently as his hands continued to explore. You writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. "Please,"
He chuckled, the vibration making your breast hum in his mouth. "Please what, baby?" He asked, his free hand moving to your other breast, pinching the nipple gently. You whimpered, your hips bucking against the floor. "Please touch me, please kiss me, please fuck me,"
“You are such a needy baby,”
"His hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. He settled between them, his breath hot against your core. "You want me to touch you here?" He asked, his fingers gently caressing your folds through your underwear."
“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?
He paused, lifting his head to look at you with a mix of confusion and realization. "Because of me?" He asked softly. "Because I'm always around, and no one else can compare?" He slid a finger underneath the fabric, touching you for the first time.
His finger traced your slit, gathering your wetness before pushing inside gently. You let out a sigh of relief, your hips tilting to meet his finger. "Is that it? Is that why you don't have a boyfriend?" He asked, curling his finger inside you, rubbing your g-spot. 
“Y-yes… It's you, has always been you, Max.” you gasped.
He added another finger, pumping in and out of you slowly. His voice was low, filled with a dominance you'd never heard from him before. "So, every time you went on a date, every time they kissed you, it was me you thought of?” 
His fingers moved faster, curling and rubbing against your g-spot. "And every time they tried to touch you, hold your hand, it was my hand you wished was there instead?" He asked, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. "Is that it, baby?”
But what can you say more besides moaning at his touch. 
He grinned wolfishly, his eyes locked onto yours. "You can't speak because you're so turned on, thinking about me instead of them. Isn't that right?" His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing circles onto your swollen nub. "Say it.”
But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when all he did was teasing you like that.
He growled, his face hovering over your core. "Say it, or I'll stop." His fingers paused, buried deep inside you. You squirmed, your hips bucking, silently begging him to continue. "Say it," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.
“Max” you breathed, clenching your legs together.
He tsked disapprovingly, prying your legs apart with his broad shoulders. "Not until you say what I want to hear." His golden eyes bore into yours, filled with desire and determination. "Say, 'Only you, Max. Only you.'" His fingers remained motionless. 
“Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 
His expression softened, and he rewarded you by moving his fingers again, crooking them inside you. "Good girl," he praised, his voice gentle. "Now, wrap your legs around my shoulders. I'm going to make you come with my mouth.”
You eagerly wrapped your legs around his shoulders, locking your ankles behind his neck. He lowered his face between your thighs, his breath hot against your wet flesh. "You're so ready for me, baby," he murmured, his thumbs spreading you open. "So swollen and needy.”
And without further teasing, he pressed his lips to your clit and sucked. Hard. His fingers curled inside you again, hitting that perfect spot. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. "Oh god oh god oh god,"
Max smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue. "Feel good, baby?" he breathed. His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions. You didn't know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Max flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking. "You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?" His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the sheets and spread you even wider for the taking.
He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.
And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside.
The act surprised your lover almost as much as it did you-not quite, but almost -upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him. When you whined a loud, protracted, 'FUCK!' he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this. Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Max knew you were close. He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else's. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.
 "Come on my face, Liefde. Show me what a good girl you are.”
And suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his head you feared you might snap it in two.
He slowly licked you clean, his gaze never leaving yours. "You taste even better than you look," he murmured, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He leaned in close, pressing his forehead to yours. "And you look... like a masterpiece.
You took his face in closer and sucked your arousal off his tongue. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his, where your juices had no doubt collected too. That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Max could’ve wanted.
Max's eyes widened in surprise as you sucked his face clean, his hands instinctively coming up to hold your head in place. He groaned into your mouth, his own arousal spiking at the filthy, careless way you were using your tongue.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth to explore and taste every inch of it. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer against him, letting you feel the hard length of his cock pressed up against you.
“I need to fuck you now,” he said.
His voice was rough with desire, his patience worn thin. He reached between your legs, grabbing your thigh and tossing your leg over his shoulder. He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your soaked folds. "Hold on, Schatje,"
He slammed into you with no warning, burying his cock deep inside your pussy in one brutal thrust. You cried out in surprise and pleasure, your walls clenching around him as he fills you completely. He grabbed your other thigh, holding you in place as he started pounding into you with ruthless intensity.
“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”
You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Max kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his dick wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,
“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”
“My perfect fucking Schatje, so good at taking my cock.”
Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Max wanted you.
"Shit, you were made for this, weren't you baby? Made to take my load." He's so lost in the way you whine, telling him he's right and he knows it when he feels the way your body clenches and flutters around him.
He pistons his hips, fucking you with abandon, his balls slapping against your ass with each brutal thrust. He reaches up to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly as he snarls in your ear. "Gonna fill this fucking pussy up with my cum, mark you as mine.”
His grip on your thighs tightened as he continued to pound into you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. "Not till I say so, baby. You gonna wait for me, aren't you?" He grunted, his own release barreling down on him. 
“Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open.
“I'm Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Max practically growls, not missing a beat while still thrusting in you.
He grunted approvingly at your desperate pleas, his face contorting with effort as he held back his own release. "Not... till... I... say... so..." He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust, his voice harsh with command. "Look at me, baby. Look at me when you beg."
You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please, daddy.” 
“Jesus, you’re making me so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”
“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”
His face contorted with pleasure as you finally gave him what he wanted. "Good girl," he hissed, his pace becoming frenzied as he finally let himself go. "You're gonna take it all, aren't you? Gonna take every last drop?" 
“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-you-daddy-I'm gonna-" 
“ I’m 'yours sweet girl, all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.
"Want your cum daddy" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.
"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Max right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair now disheveled. 
“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-
"Of course Liefje" Max presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"
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yourusername first day at work, welcome to the playground - newbie.
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user1 what a dream job 😭
user2 I wanna be there toooooo 😭
urfriend my baby's dream finally came true
yourusername wish me luck bestie
user4 what is your job?
yourusername i'm the new intern in social media for RBR
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liked by redbullracing, yourusername, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 3,962,028 others
maxverstappen1 this new (intern) social media manager has me doing all sorts of weird things, apparently the fans like me doing this…I’m yet to be convinced 😂 might need a long nap after this.
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username12 fyi we absolutely love photos like these 😂
landonorris I nearly fell off my chair laughing after scrolling through this post 😂😂😂
username13 thank you the new intern for convincing max to bless us with a world of meme worthy content, i beg for more
username14 he has no idea how much we love seeing this side of him does he???
username15 pls promote ur new intern to be ur lifelong admin @/redbullracing
redbullracing let me ask my boss first ferrari we still have open position for the new intern, wanna join? redbullracing back off mercedesamgf1 or u can work for us instead, why be an intern when u can be our new admin for a very demure, very mindfull team! username16 are they battling for the new intern 😂 username17 on track and offtrack battle
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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 26,882 others
yourusername life lately as the new intern at @/redbullracing
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username18 so u r the new intern that blessed us with so much max's meme
yourusername no need to tks me 🤗 username18 u r so pretty, might be my new wife
username19 oooooh max's in the like
username20 aww so cute
username3 the outfits slay
landonorris uhhh 
username21 WHAT ARE YOU EOING HERE maxverstappen1 she's not on ur team, mate landonorris so i can not say hello to her ???
yourbff you are so effortlessly gorgeous please 😫 and whose hand is that wifey
username22 wtf is max and lando beefing in the comment
username23 shut the f up she's a swiftie OMG i need a challenge with max and checo with taylor
yourusername working on it, but these two know nothing 'bout the pop culture 😭 username24 OMG the devil works hard but u gotta work harder girl
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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, yourusername and 1,826,882 others
redbullracing Taylor Swift 1 - 0 Chestappen
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maxverstappen1 do not shame ur drivers publicly like that
redbullracing we do not 🤗 landonorris how can they not know about THE TAYLOR georgerussell63 i would have won this charlesleclerc if the ferrari's challenge could be this easy
username30 they cant even score a point
username31 OMG Chestappen
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f1wags new wag alert!!! This might be the new gf of Max and she also works for Red Bull too
username32 OMG is she y/n the old intern now admin
f1wags that's her
username33 i follow her too and she is soooooooo pretty
username34 her new ideas for all their challenges are cool too
username1 😒😒
username2 BOOOO👎
username3 so it’s official then huh?
username13 BODY IS TEAA
username24 HOLYYY
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and 3,344,234 others
maxverstappen1 i think this called hard launch and yes this is my new gf @/yourusername took all the pics since she thought i'm not very good at it
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