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pesterloglog · 10 months

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Vriska Serket, John Egbert

Act 5, page 2672-2674

AG: John, why are you standing around wasting time????????

EB: um, i don't know. you can see my future, can't you?

EB: how much time am i wasting?

AG: Enough to make me wonder what the hell your deal is!

EB: then i would venture to guess i am wasting time because you chose to pester me just now!

AG: Dammit, John.

AG: Stop sounding smarter than me. It is un8ecoming of someone so inferior.

EB: i mean, i was just pausing for a moment...

EB: to look at my trashed movie posters.

EB: they bring back memories, of a life that i guess is long gone now.

EB: but you probably know what that is all about.

AG: Yeah, I know.

EB: it wasn't even that long ago, but it already seems like forever since i was on earth!

EB: it was a pretty nice place, i bet you would have liked it.

AG: It seems a little too sunny for my liking.

EB: well, what about you? do you miss your planet, and your parents and such?

AG: The life I left 8ehind wasn't so hot, to 8e honest.

EB: oh. that's too bad.

AG: Why don't we not talk a8out that!

AG: What are these movies, anyway? They look just awful.

EB: but you see, that is where you are wrong. these films are the finest earth has to offer!

AG: Are they a8out clowns?

EB: no, no. i drew those clowns in my sleep, for some reason.

AG: ::::|

EB: this one here is so great. it is about this street tough renegade who did hard time behind bars, and wants nothing more in the world than to reunite with his loving wife and daughter. but not so fast! he has to go on crazy and dangerous escapades through the sky with a motley assortment of rogues led by john malkovich, who is wise to cage's heroic nature and pure heart. they tether a grumpy police man's awesome car to the plane and smash it, and then later they crash into some casinos. cage gets out of the wreckage and hugs his family, and i usually tear up a little.

EB: that is my working troll title for the movie, i hope it was ok.

AG: John, even though your title is quite amusing and pro8a8ly kind of cute, that movie sounds hilariously 8ad!

EB: yeah, well you are hilariously WRONG!

EB: here, hang on, i will show you.

EB: http://tinyurl.com/hullohumminburr

EB: oh, but you will probably have to use your troll thingy to rewind time or whatever, to before the earth internet blew up so you can watch it.

AG: Is this like the Earth equivalent of Gru8tu8e or something?

EB: i guess??

AG: Man. I am not watching this shitty video. It looks so 8ad!

EB: ok, suit yourself.

EB: but there it is, in case you are ever hankering after some incredible movie magic.

AG: Ok, I will 8e sure 8ookmark it and la8el it "dum8 kid's retarded nonsense."

EB: ok, good idea.

AG: 8y the way! Why aren't you using your computer glasses to talk suddenly????????

AG: This device seems less efficient, and doesn't look as cool!

EB: oh, the goggles are cool and all, but they kind of restrict my vision stupidly when i'm using them!

EB: i should remember to make a new hands-free device, that is less obtrusive.

EB: maybe after i make a new computer so i can install this game.

AG: How will you duplic8 it? Isn't it smashed out there on your lawnring?

EB: yeah, but i can use one of my old previously punched cards.

AG: Oh, gr8.

AG: Uh........

AG: John?

EB: what?

AG: Ok, I will slide you a 8r8k 8ecause clearly your 8lock was just ransacked.

AG: 8ut may8e you want to put that away? Somewhere discreet, where you usually keep it?

AG: There is at least one girl spying on you right now, you know.

EB: put what away? what are you talking about?

AG: Your pail is showing, stupid!!!!!!!!

EB: my pail?

EB: you mean this bucket here?

AG: Yes! Come on, will you take a hint and show some decorum????????

EB: umm...

EB: i'm really not following. what do you have against buckets?

AG: Man! Nothing, really. It's just........

AG: Ok, may8e humans don't really have any sense of shame over this sort of thing?

EB: shame over what?

EB: it's just a bucket! you know, for putting soapy water in and cleaning stuff with.

EB: why, what do trolls use them for?

AG: Oh.

AG: Haha, yeah, of course!

AG: That's what I was talking a8out. Your cleaning 8ucket.

AG: In troll culture we consider cleaning products to 8e really indecent or something!

AG: I am 8lushing furiously a8out it right now. Please try to 8e sensitive to my cultural ways and understandings.

EB: wow... uh. that is definitely pretty odd.

EB: but ok, i'm sorry you saw my bucket. i will just chuck it out the window i guess.

AG: Thank you, John. That is very gentlemanly of you.

AG: Now will you quit shitting around and get on with it!!!!!!!! God.

EB: well i was GOING to but you started babbling at me!

EB: jeez, spinneret.

AG: That isn't my real name, you dope!

EB: ok, then what is it!

AG: I ain't telling you that!

AG: It's a sekret. :::;)

EB: *ROLLS EYES*

EB: all eight gross spidery eyes!

EB: oops i mean !x8.

AG: You don't even need to say that. I can see you rolling your eyes, remem8er?

EB: oh yeah.

#homestuck #vriska serket #john egbert #homestuck act 5 #page 2672 #page 2673 #page 2674 #homestuck act 5 act 2

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brigadeirogourmet · 2 years

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Resultado da Lotofácil de Hoje Concurso 2672 – sexta-feira (25/11)

O Resultado da Lotofácil concurso 2672 que ocorre nesta sexta-feira, dia 25 de novembro (25/11) a partir das 20h no Espaço Loterias Caixa. Os números do sorteio você confere abaixo. Resultado da Lotofácil concurso 2672 — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — Premiação da Lotofácil 2672 O prêmio estimado para este concurso é de R$ 1.500.000,00. Como jogar na Lotofácil Em um volante da Lotofácil, você…

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#Resultado da Lotofácil de Hoje Concurso 2672 – sexta-feira (25/11)

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miaountainmama · 5 months

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jealous

characters: jouno, fem!reader contains: pwp, shameless smut, collaring, oral (m!recieving), degradation and praise, use of good girl, he gets jealous and fucks you over his desk. i also don't feel like tagging but this one is relatively tame too. minors dni or i'll eat your bones

wc: 2672

a/n: i love writing jouno smut. man is so talkative

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice?”

You shake your head at Jouno’s question— you knew you could never hide anything from him. You could never lie to him. Still, to be caught like this…

“I couldn’t help it,” you reply meekly, tugging weakly at the leather collar around your neck. The fabric is comfortable— Jouno picked out something nice and soft for you when he bought it. He switches like that, between someone who considers your every need and someone who pushes you just for the pleasure of it. Right now, he felt like the latter.

“…Couldn’t help it?” Jouno’s voice is low and smooth, and you swallow, knowing that no matter what you said, you would not be getting out of this situation easily. Your breath catches as he suddenly yanks on the chain connected to your collar, and you’re forced to look up at him from where you’re kneeling on the floor in front of him.

“Couldn’t help what? Couldn't help thinking about getting your cunt fucked by another man? Couldn’t help thinking about replacing me?” He chuckles bitterly, and you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. There’s nothing you can say, nothing you can do to make yourself look any better in this situation.

“I heard your heartbeat when you were looking at him. And the smell of your— ugh. Sickening. To think you’d get off thinking about Tecchou of all people.” He’s circling you now, heels clicking against the floor of his office, and you don’t dare to turn your head and follow his movements. You stare straight ahead, feeling the sweat bead on the back of your neck as you flush from embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and, though he can tell you’re genuine, his lip curls in distaste as he stops in front of you. His fingers twitch around the chain leash.

“I’ll make you sorry. Get up,” he orders, and you follow without hesitation, standing and shifting your weight nervously from side to side. He points to a spot by his desk, and you get the idea, quietly shuffling towards it and standing with your back facing him.

“Bend over.”

Your face burns, but you comply, resting your elbows on the smooth surface of the desk and bending at the waist. You feel him step behind you, his gloved hand running along your arched back, and you can’t help but shudder at the touch. His hand lingers there for a moment before moving downwards, reaching around toward the front of your pants and unbuttoning them. Your breath hitches, but you let him do as he pleases, though your blush does darken as he pushes the fabric down your thighs, leaving you bare and exposed to him. You know he can sense how aroused his jealousy has gotten you, and shame bubbles up in your belly— you can hear the resentment in his voice as he sheds a glove and brushes his fingers between your legs, seeing for himself how wet you’ve become.

“My, so excited. So you enjoy this? You enjoy betraying me? Flitting around like a common whore?” You say nothing as you hear him messing with his belt and pants, and your heart rate spikes as you hear the leather drop to the ground. You know what’s coming, and your legs unintentionally spread a little— Jouno exhales in derision at this, mumbling an insult you can’t quite hear.

A tremor runs through your body as you feel him press closer to you, his cock sliding in between your folds as he prepares to enter you, and your eyes flutter half shut at the sensation.

“You don’t deserve an ounce of the pleasure I’m about to give you, you whore,” he snarls, and with that, he pushes into you, yanking your head back by the collar with one hand and grabbing you roughly by the hip with the other. You gasp out a choked moan, back arching further as he bottoms out inside you, and you barely have time to process before he pulls back and snaps his hips forward again in a rough thrust. It hits inside you just right, and you can’t hold back the groan that tumbles from your lips, feeling your entire body lurch forward from how forceful he’s being.

The first couple of thrusts are slow and deep, but Jouno was never one for mercy. Within seconds he’s set a pace that has you seeing stars, and your hands clutch at the surface of the desk, trying to find any sort of support as he ruthlessly pounds into you. The air is filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin along with your heavy breaths and stuttered moans. He’s leaning over you now, pulling your head back by the leash so he can mutter things into your ear as his hips move against yours.

“Could Tecchou ever make you feel this good? Hm?” he says lowly, voice antagonistic, and you only moan out in response, already too fucked out to think. He lets out another displeased exhale before he pulls the chain back and sinks his teeth into your neck, causing you to let out a startled yelp.

“Answer me.”

Luckily for you, you’re able to form together a garbled no, and he hums in approval, rewarding you with a kiss over the new mark on your neck and another rough snap of his hips.

“Good girl. See, you can behave. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He doesn’t expect an answer this time, which is good for you because you don’t know whether you could give one right now. You’re too busy gripping onto the desk for dear life, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of his cock pressing up just right against the spot inside you. He’s good— criminally good— even more so when he reaches around you and swipes a finger against your clit, not quite rubbing yet but applying enough pressure that it has you reeling.

“Are you going to be good from now on?” he says, leaning further over you to murmur directly into your ear, and you nod your head, always eager to please. His hands are so warm, and the thought of him adding extra stimulation has you practically whining. It’s hard to think when he’s so close to touching you like that, still going at a steady pace with his hips.

“Mhm, I promise, Sai,” you breathe out, panting at this point, and he coos another good girl, causing your blush to darken as the praise goes right to your core. He rewards you by finally touching you, wetting his fingers on your slick before lightly pinching your clit. You let out a gasp, back arching at the sudden rush of sensation. Jouno chuckles from behind you, and you have half a mind to whip your head around and ask him what he thinks is so funny until he starts rubbing, and that clears any ounce of brattiness from your system. It feels so good you swear you’re about to cum on the spot— and he can tell.

“So desperate for my touch? You’re soaking. You really are a whore.” His voice is full of amusement as he continues his efforts to pleasure both you and him, and he reaches out with the hand still holding the leash to fist at your hair and pull it back. Your legs begin to shake, but he shows no signs of slowing down.

“About to cum so soon? We can’t have that. Hold it in. You’re not allowed to cum until I tell you to,” he orders, and your eyes shoot open, tears shooting to them as you struggle to hold back your orgasm.

“But- Sai, I can’t, I can’t,” you babble, and you swear this man doubles his efforts instead of offering you mercy. Your moans become louder,

harder to suppress, and he tightens his grip in your hair. The sounds of skin against skin get more aggressive.

“Jouno- Sai, please,” you continue, practically begging at this point, and you can feel his hands twitch from where they’re holding and pleasuring you. A soft spot of his, perhaps, a weakness for begging? It’s shameful, but you’re too desperate, too close to release to care as you target and exploit that soft spot for all it’s worth.

“Sai, please, I need to cum, please, I can’t- I can’t hold it,” you’re whimpering by now, tears threatening to spill over your lash line, but he just hums in response, still ramming into you and circling your clit skillfully, and soon, the knot in your belly unravels. You’ve lost.

Your back arches to an almost painful level as you climax, and the moment Jouno realizes what’s happening he lets out a breathy laugh and begins to suck at your neck to overwhelm you even further. The tears really do fall now, and you sob out his name as he pleasures you through your high, never stopping even as your hips twitch and jerk. Your grip on the desk tightens to the point where you feel you’re about to splinter the wood. Eventually, you reach that point where everything becomes sensitive, and a shudder runs through your body. You know he feels it— still, he doesn’t stop, choosing to bite down on the crook of your neck instead, and your eyes squeeze shut as a strangled moan leaves your lips.

“Too much,” you whimper, feeling the hot tears running down your cheeks and dripping off of your chin, yet the man just hums again, choosing to ignore you, getting off to the sounds of your overstimulation— you can’t keep your mouth shut, moans and cries and sobs spilling into the air. You don’t know how long he keeps you on that threshold— it could have been seconds, could have been minutes, but as he whispers that you can take it you hate that you want to prove him right. You let him mark you up, you let him hold your head back by the hair, you let him fuck you so hard you cry— you let him do everything he wants to do to you until you hear a satisfied moan slip from his own lips, and he finally slows down. He hasn’t finished yet, but as he twitches inside you, both of you panting and gasping for breath, you know he’s getting there. He pushes all the way in and bends over you, turning your head so you can look directly at him.

“Mm. Such a shame. Directly disobeying my orders not to cum. What happened to being good?” he clicks his tongue, and your face burns with shame. You move to apologize, but the sound dies on your tongue as he shushes you, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling out of you. You whine at the loss of contact, but he shushes you again, spinning you around to face him. You grab onto him for support, so fucked out you’re off balance.

“I’m not done with you yet. On your knees.”

He regards you with a light smile as you blink up at him, still sniffing and crying from the previous overstimulation, but you drop down to the floor at his command, knowing better than to go against him. You clutch at the fabric of his pants for a moment as you kneel in front of him, trying to regain any semblance of composure, and you’re surprised that he loosens the hold on the chain leash and runs his hands through your hair, letting you get those few precious seconds of rest. Perhaps he knows you need it before he inevitably ruins you a second time. Regardless, you lean into his touch, relishing in the feeling of his nails lightly scratching against your scalp.

As expected, he only gives you a few seconds, but it’s seconds that are appreciated. It mellows you out, and you open your mouth without complaint once Jouno shuffles forward and tilts your head up with a hand, grabbing himself with the other and tapping his cockhead against your lips. He’s surprisingly gentle as he inserts himself into your mouth, still cradling your head, though you know that won’t last. You place your hands on his body and wait for him to take control as he usually does.

His first couple of thrusts are shallow, slow. He moves deeper, and as his tip hits the back of your throat you gag and whine— he hushes you, rubbing circles on your jaw with his thumb. Your eyes water again.

Jouno pays no mind, letting out sighs of pleasure as he begins to thrust faster, harder, moving the hand not holding the leash to run through your hair again. You look up at him with watery eyes as you allow him to use you, and soon he’s fucking your mouth just as hard as he was fucking you earlier. Though it’s difficult to keep yourself together, though you’re crying unintentionally and drooling and overall ruined, he pacifies you by murmuring words of praise down to you. It’s satisfying to see him morph from smug to this— you watch as his eyebrows slowly knit together, mouth dropping open to let out light grunts, and the more he finds pleasure in your body, the redder his cheeks get.

“Ah, you feel- you’re being so good for me, fuck,” he pants, and you peer up at him contentedly as he slowly begins to fall apart. A weak noise slips from your open mouth as he tightens the leash, now using it to pull you up and down on his cock, and his head falls back at the added sensation. He’s holding back his sounds still, though, and you can’t have that. You quickly swirl your tongue around his tip when he pulls back again, and that seems to loosen his lips. He lets out the most delicious moan you’ve ever heard, breathy and coated in pleasure, and he speeds up.

“Keep doing that,” he commands, though it lacks any sort of bite— it’s more of a whine than anything else. His thrusts are getting sloppy, erratic, and you can tell he’s getting close. You obey eagerly, willing to do anything that lets you hear his wonderful noises again, and as you let your tongue go to work he moans again, yanking you by the collar harder. His thrusts are getting shallower, faster, and you know there’s only a matter of seconds before it’s over. His voice pitches up— his hand tightens in your hair— and with a final thrust deep into your mouth he cums, spilling down your throat with a low groan. He seems done, but you? You continue to gently bob your head and swirl your tongue as you swallow, wanting to coax as much from him as possible, and your efforts are rewarded with a whimper. It’s the sweetest reward you could ever be given.

Hastily, he pulls out of your mouth, regaining his composure. He holds your head away from him for a moment before he retracts his hand, making sure to stroke your jaw with his thumb a few times before doing so. You look up at him happily from where you’re kneeling below him, hands still on his body, and he lets out a shaky exhale before resting his hands on yours and gently nudging them off of him.

“I trust you’ve learned your lesson?” he says, always one to try and remain in control at all times, and you nod, leaning your head against his leg. You hum in affirmation, and he sighs, reaching down to stroke your hair again. It puts a smile on your face, and it widens as his smooth voice praises you again.

“Good girl. Don’t do it again or I’ll have to punish you a second time.”

The idea of it sends your heart racing despite yourself. A second punishment didn’t sound too bad at all.

“…Don’t get too excited. I won’t be as nice next time.”

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd x you #jouno x reader #jouno saigiku #saigiku jouno x reader #bsd saigiku #jouno smut #bsd smut

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stepintothelimelight · 1 month

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▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄SHE CAN GO HOME, BUT SHE’S NOT GOING TO

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　° i would do

anything

you want me to…. ✧ ⁺ ┊

PART 4 of the Spitfire Saga

TRAILER: A home race that doesn’t feel like home anymore

(2018!f1grid x fem!Genz!driver!reader, max verstappen x reader (platonic), lewis hamilton x reader (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader (platonic))

For more Spitfire content go to my account and it’s my pinned post since tumblr hates me and won’t let me link anything :)

WARNINGS: FAMILY ISSUES, mentioned child abuse, swearing, gratuitous hurt/comfort, reader’s birthday happens before the gp, mention of a suicidal thought, ANGST, barely edited :)

fc: an assortment of female celebs

Aaaaannnnd ACTION!

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f1: 🇺🇸🦅💥💥💥HOME RACE FOR Y/N L/N 🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅

American fans - be there or be 🟦

📍Circuit of the Americas

tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 637918 others

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yourusername just shared a story!

this story is no longer available

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You arrive early, per usual, to make sure you have time for every fan, and maybe to catch a glimpse of Taylor Swift, who will be singing the national anthem today.

Your phone call with Seb last night quickly turned into him and Hanna knocking on your hotel room door and enveloping you in their arms. You fell asleep between the two of them, a comfort show playing on low volume in the background.

You hate that it caught you off guard. A small, stupid part of you actually believed that your family - your mother - could love you like they - like she- was meant to.

It was supposed to be fun. You dressed up, treated them to one of the nicest restaurants in Austin. The second they arrived, though, it all turned to shit.

At least your fans are majorly little girls and they couldn’t care less if you’re having widely photographed, public arguments with your older brother after a family dinner turned sour.

Miraculously, you get into the paddock unscathed by prying questions into your personal life. You just get set up in your drivers room for Qualifying and try to put it all behind you. You don’t see Taylor, and unlike any other day, you don’t have the energy to face the paddock.

As you rearrange your hangers for the hundredth time, there’s a knock on your door. You sigh. Most of the team knows that you like your private time before any event, especially your first home race.

“Yeah?”

The door opens slowly. It’s Lewis. Since the beginning of the season, your relationship with him has definitely developed. He’s good friends with Seb and you have a sneaking suspicion that he has told Lewis to keep an eye on you where Seb can’t. He’s become a sort of mentor-slash-friend and you couldn’t be happier, especially since you’ve both signed on for another few years at Mercedes.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you say.

Lewis sent me this.

“Did you hear about Taylor Swift?” You exclaim. “How cool is that?”

He grants you a trademark half-smile.

“Consider it a belated birthday gift.”

You eyes widen and your mouth drips open.

“It was you?”

He shrugs.

“It wasn’t very hard to convince her.”

You hurry over to him, hesitate for a second, then hug him gently. You’ve never hugged him in a normal setting. You break off of him and stand there, not quite knowing what to say next.

“Home race,” He says awkwardly. Lewis is hardly ever awkward. “Big deal.”

“Yeah.” You don’t mean to sound annoyed. Or tired. Or defeated.

“Family coming? I’d like to meet them. I don’t think I have, yet. “

That’s true. Your mother has been to two Grand Prix since the start of the season and your father and brother one, respectively. They’re busy people, but after last night, some part of you wonders if your mother intentionally schedules conflicts so that they can never make it.

That’s stupid, she says in your head. We love you. You’re the one who makes this whole thing impossible.

When they have shown up, you’ve kept them as far away as possible from cameras, and Lewis draws every camera in every room he steps foot in. Maybe your brother is right. Maybe you hide them because of some secret shame you hold for them. The only thing you’re ashamed of is how complicated your relationship with your family is.

“No. I-“

What?

Sent them home?

Told them to never show their faces around the paddock again?

Cried into Seb’s chest all of last night wishing I was dead because of how horrible they make me feel?

“Couldn’t deal with them today,” you say decisively. The media might see you as a stone cold bitch, so why not Lewis, too.

“They’re your family.”

“They hate me,” you whisper, turning back you your hangers. You’ve never said it out loud. Not to Max or Charles, not even to Hanna last night when she was helping you wash your face through swollen eyes and a runny nose.

“I’m sure they don’t-“

“You’ve never met them. My mom hates me. She loathes me and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. I have given her everything and she still don’t bring herself to even like me a little bit. The rest this I’m too independent, too liberal, not liberal enough, too opinionated, too young, too smart, whatever. My dad and his side wish I went to university and my mom’s side tries to chase the fame. It sucks. It didn’t use to be like this, but it is now.”

You spare a glance back at him. He’s wide- eyed. This is probably the most he’s heard you talk without cracking a joke or bursting out laughing.

“Have you told Seb? Or… Max, Charles?”

“Seb, yes. Max would order a hit on my entire family if I told him this type of thing and Charles would hide the evidence.”

What you told Charles at Christmas, he didn’t acknowledge then and there, but he was noticeably cold to your mother when you brought her to see him.

Lewis studied you, then a look dawns on his face. It’s a mix of dread and fury, but he schools it quickly.

“Y/n,” He says in a very serious tone. “Don’t lie to me.”

Your brow furrows.

“Do they - does your mother or your father hit you?”

It wasn’t the question you’d expected, but it still makes your blood turn cold.

You think for a second, contemplate his expression, run the risks of him exploding if you tell him the truth.

“No…” you trail off. “Once. I made her mad when I was fifteen and-“ you raise your own hand and slap your face. “Never after though.”

She cried into your shoulder for hours after, telling you just how sorry she was, how she would never dream of laying another violent hand on you again.

Lewis’s mouth opens then closes. You purse your lips.

“I don’t need my family,” you whisper. “And I don’t need you to worry about me. I’m fine.”

He gives you a look, one that says:

There’s no way in hell I believe you.

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chalmaxy/nship

chalmaxy/nship: Max and Charles (+Pierre) teaming up to cheer Y/n up 😫 they are sooooo whipped for her (even tho they pretend they hate each other 🙄)

tagged: max33verstappen, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, yourusername, f1

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The video starts with the camera fixed on a very angry - looking Y/n. Her brow is set and her mouth is distorted in a flat line, which of course, is to be expected. She was obviously off her usual top-five worthy game today and has earned herself a starting position of P20.

The interviewer asks her a series of questions that she responds to very flatly and emotionlessly, so much so that her press officer elbows her in the side more than once to get an actual, genuinely not sarcastic answer out of her.

And then -

“Do you think your family issues are the reason you’ve performed so miserably today?”

She stops. Pauses, opens her mouth then closes it again.

“That,” she drags out bitingly. “was an incredibly stupid and insensitive question. Every question you’ve asked me today has been either completely patronizing or borderline inappropriate.”

She shoots a look at her press officer, shakes her head slightly, then leans into the microphone.

“You’ll understand why we’re choosing to cut this interview short.”

And then she turns and leaves the media pen.

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mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1: AAAAAaaaaaannnnnddd she’s done it again! A home race win is yet another thing our Spitfire can check off of her bucket list 💪

tagged: yourusername

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user6: Admin really said yes she’s a spitfire yes she’s OUR Spitfire

user7: did anyone else notice how down Y/n seemed up on the podium tho

⮑ user11: Yeah, definitely not the energy we’re used to up there

yourusername: 🖤🖤

⮑user12: girl I need to know the tea behind the story and the tweet 🙏🙏🙏

user7: Call me crazy but she’s the biggest talent of her generation, not Verstappen

⮑ user8: you’re crazy

⮑user9: @/user8: did we not just watch the same race?

user10: she’s making the sport annoying.

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yourusername

yourusername: Great home race win guys! 🇺🇸💥💥🦅💥 lovely to share the podium with maxie and lewie

tagged: mercedesamgf1

liked by max33verstappen, charles_leclerc and 738291 others

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max33verstappen: Get ready, I’m coming to get you in an hour to celebrate

⮑yourusername: I can’t drink here dumbass

⮑user13: MaxY/n confirmed???

taylorswift: So glad I finally got to meet you in person!

⮑ user14: TAYLOR SWIFT WAS THERE AND Y/N DIDNT EVEN MENTION IT???? OH SOMETHING’S WRONG WRONG

⮑ yourusername: 🖤

user15: U go Spitfire!!

user16: Y/n is such a bitch.

lewishamilton: This is starting to sound redundant, but congrats Y/n!

user17: I still can’t get over how rude she was to that reporter

⮑user18: EVERY reporter is rude and/or patronizing towards her. She deserves to bite back once and a while

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True to his word, Max knocks on your door. You get up from the spot you’ve been staring out the window and open it.

He’s dressed up, ready to go out drinking, you suppose. You’ve changed into your pajamas and tied your hair up sloppily.

He arches his eyebrows.

“Ready to celebrate?”

You shrug.

“Not really in the mood. Plus I can’t drink here. You go ahead, tell the team to send me the bill and I’ll pick it up.”

You go to close the door then. He kicks his foot between the door and the doorframe.

“Come out. It could still be fun,” He offers. “It’s your home race. I’d be happy if I won at spa.”

He raised his eyes brows at you and you look down guiltily. You should be happy. You’ve broken a record of some kind, you’re pretty sure, and every other driver dreams of winning his home race.

“You’d be happy because your family would be there to see it,” you say bitterly. “Because then you’d be able to prove to them it wasn’t all for nothing. That you’re not selfish or - or something.”

Max closes the door when he hears your voice tremor. There’s a hard concern in his eyes.

“Go, Max. You should celebrate.”

“I don’t want to anymore.”

You look him up and down. He’s gelled his hair and put on a non redbull shirt. Obviously he’s gearing up for a big night of celebrating.

“Tell me,” He says. “You can talk to me. I’m not a stranger to family issues.”

You scoff and flop onto your bed.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“You love partying. It’s a big deal.”

It’s quiet, except for his slightly heavy breathing. Here’s Mad Max Verstappen, standing at the foot of your bed begging you to confide in him with his eyes. His big, sad, droopy eyes.

You cover your face with the your arm.

“I can’t believe they actually left,” you choke out. “I told them to go and they just … left. The first time my entire family could muster up the time and effort to spend an entire weekend supporting me and they decide to just go home.”

Max moves towards you, hesitates, then settles himself on the floor next to your bedside table.

“Why?”

You huff.

“I don’t know. I push them away. I get on my mom’s nerves. I try too hard to impress my dad. Did you know,” you take a deep breath. “Did you know my mother hasn’t told me good night or I love you in five years?”

He sits and stares out the window.

“Why doesn’t she love me, Max?”

It comes out more pathetic than you wanted it to. Max is probably one of the only people who might get it, just a little.

“Schat…” he trails off. “I don’t know.”

Max is two years older than you. Sometimes those two years feel like a lifetime. You wish he was a lifetime older than you so he would know.

“Maybe…” He trails off. “Fuck. Maybe some people just aren’t made to be parents.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to try and push down the sobs building in your chest. Max, thankfully, doesn’t react when you let out a soft gasp and sniff wetly. He just sits there and stares out the window

Eventually, you curl up in your bed and Max sits a on the other side (on top of the covers, a safe two feet away) and turn on Star wars (The prequels - he’s a huge nerd, surprise, surprise).

Maybe some people aren’t made to be parents.

Maybe some people aren’t made to be daughters.

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✧ ⁺ ⁺ Yelled down the hall

but nobody answered ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

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Aaannnnnnddd scene!

DIRECTOR’S CUT: A short and sad angsty hurt comfort type of thing… next chapter i swear will be happier !!

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