#Max run club au

[maxybabyy]

i’m thinking about your max run club au again 😵‍💫 does daniel realize… the effect… max’s voice has on him? when do daniel and max meet in real life (if ever)?

😫 😫 i am always thinking about max run club ... but im sooo glad you're there with me! 🏃

in my mind they don't meet until after he and scotty break up. Daniel in a moderate sized LA apartment trying to figure out what to do with a bum knee and no race seat, when he goes to one of martijn's shows, and look who is there also :)

below the cut is the third part 😏 (part i, ii)

The first time he sees him, Daniel almost doesn’t notice.

He’s face-down on the sofa with his phone held loosely in his hand. He should probably be in bed, has an appointment with his physio in the morning, lunch with Blake after that. But Scotty’s in Canada for training camp, has been for the past two weeks, and Daniel hasn’t been sleeping well.

He had offered to come with him, with Scott. Made a joke about getting on the slopes too, “My knee’s been better, yeah? Reckon I could probably take you down for a run or two.” His knee still isn’t great but like, he could probably hang out in the hot tub, work on maybe, like a nice tan.

But Scotty had laughed, told him not to waste his time, “You don’t even like the snow, Ric. I’ll see you in a month, yeah?”

Daniel thinks maybe he’s allowed to feel like this, lonely and sad, scrolling through Instagram.

It’s worse then, when he sees the picture of Scotty. He’s shirtless and smiling, how Daniel likes him the best. There’s a sunburn on his nose, red and angry, and Daniel knows it must be painful. Can imagine almost how he must be complaining about it, refusing to put on aloe because he doesn’t like the sticky after-feel.  

It gets him a little hot, his hips pressing against the sofa almost unconsciously. He could probably like, get himself off. Come into his own hand and send him a picture, saying some shit like, thought of u ;).

But also, like. Daniel hasn’t heard from him in a few days, thinks maybe he’s not going to be the one to reach out this time.

He’s deep in his twitter feed, focus only half on the screen when he hears the voice.

He rewinds it and presses the phone to his ear, the volume turned loud as he listens, and there it is. Just a handful of lines in that sharp accent that Daniel recognises immediately with an odd sense of excitement.

He loops it over to hear it again, and Daniel feels it. The sudden burst of energy, conditioned almost by sound alone. He wants to put on his shoes and run, Max’s voice hoarse in his ears coaxing him to be faster, to be better. To make it good, make it last. And Daniel would, for him. For Max.

He grinds his dick into the sofa, reckons it would be half-hard if he reached down to touch it.

Daniel doesn’t do it, obviously. It would be too much, he knows. Getting hot and bothered by the sound of a voice, or like, not even that. Because it’s GP’s voice he can hear now, deep and British, and decidedly not Max’s. But even like this, Daniel feels out of control.

He loops it again before he even thinks about it.

Daniel doesn’t realise until he’s on his third listen that GP is talking about Max, “- and he can be himself with me, which I think is really important when you work together the way that Max and I do.”

There’s a shuffle in the background, and Daniel almost misses it, rewinds the video just a few seconds to watch as a guy pops in from the side to hug GP.

Daniel doesn’t have to think about it, knows already that it’s Max on the screen.

He can only see his backside but he’s already so fucking hot. The wide line of his shoulders, trim waist obvious from the cropped running top he’s wearing. His shorts are almost indecent too, sit barely below his ass to show off strong thighs.

Looking at him like this, Daniel cannot fucking breathe.           

Belatedly he noticed the link on the screen, a tag to their socials. It takes him to a YouTube page, Red Bull Running, and Daniel almost doesn’t – feels as the sour taste builds in his mouth.

It’s, like, objectively okay what he’s doing. He’s just a fan, that’s it. And like, Red Bull has probably hundreds of athletes, it’s barely even a connection.

Daniel doesn’t find it until he’s almost given up, hidden away at the bottom of the screen on a playlist called Max V. His cheeks feel flushed, his eyes heavy with maybe not sleep but something else, the illicit feeling making his fingers tingle.

He scrolls through it with his knee pulled to his chest, flicks through videos of Max on the treadmill, going over data with GP, crossing the line at the London marathon. He’s just as pretty as Daniel thought, wide smile and kind eyes as he laughs at his own silly joke.

He’s almost at the bottom, an absent yawn escaping his lips when he finds it. Yoga for Runners.

Foolishly, he clicks it, watches with a dry mouth as Max introduces himself. He sits squarely on the mat in a sunlit room. He isn’t wearing a shirt, back so straight it makes his pectorals look obscene. There’s a low-fi beat in the background, not too loud to drown out Max’s soft instructions guiding the viewer through a series of poses.

Daniel’s thumb hovers over the home button, ready to close out, to go to bed. And then Max bends over, ass to the camera in his tiny running shorts. It goes on forever. Max speaking softly, demonstrating with his hands the muscles he stretches, how to increase the pressure, where the strain should not be.

Max counts himself down, “You got, it. Four. Breathe deep for me, please,” lowers his knees and folds his chest almost to the floor, keeps his hips up high. “Here, you will feel the release of your rib cage. Obviously, like this it will give you a great stretch in the back also. Yes, just like this. You are of course doing so good.”  

Daniel bites into the meat of his palm, pants into his own sweaty hand. He balances his phone against a pillow and slides his hand down to his dick.

He digs out the bottle of lube that hasn’t been used in months, pours it into his hand, onto his dick. Pretends the slick sound of his hand is something else. It’s easy to do like this, Max’s voice steady in his ear, body moving with impressive control on screen.

“Sink in a little deeper for me, we are so close,” Max says, voice soft, hoarse. “Breathe into the sensation. It should of course feel good when we do this.”

Daniel should feel embarrassed, maybe, but he comes just as Max is winding down, spread out on his back, breathing heavy. “Max,” he sobs, breathless.

The video ends, replaced by a moment of silence. And then in an all too familiar voice, “Hello, everyone,” that makes Daniel’s stomach drop.

[tinycoffeeroom]

café de paris | max verstappen

face claim: none ᡣ𐭩

request: here !

a/n: all french / dutch is google translated blame them if it's wrong! race order is completely random here !

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📍café de paris, monaco

liked by bffstagram, friend1 and 294 others

y/nstagram me 🤝 café de paris

bffstagram bro those croissants look Fire ↳ y/nstagram my main source of sustenance in these hard monaco streets!

friend1 i have yet to see evidence of you shaking ass on a yacht miss y/n!! ↳ bffstagram so real... we're meant to be living vicariously through you!!! ↳ y/nstagram student finance doesn't stretch to yacht ass shaking, i can barely afford my daily caffeine fix 😭

friend2 oui oui hon baguette how is france? ↳ y/nstagram never let a monagesque hear you say that,,, bro i can't fight ↳ friend2 🫡 ... how is monaco?* ↳ y/nstagram 🫡 it's good!! def happy i chose here over france, even if my wallet doesn't agree 😭 ↳ friend2 we feeling fluent yet? ↳ y/nstagram oh god no, the other day this poor old lady tried explaining how to find the art museum to me and i just stared at her like 😶

friend3 spotted any f1 hotties yet? i hear they all camp out in monaco 👀 ↳ y/nstagram considering i have never watched a Single f1 race i couldn't tell you HAHAH i'm sure they're around here somewhere though ↳ friend3 dude i told you to brush up on f1 😭 how am i supposed to come visit you and have a meet cute with mr lando norris if you don't do your RESEARCH ↳ y/nstagram damn i see how it is,,, using me to get to your vroom vroom men,,,

3 weeks later

📍café de paris, monaco

👤 alexandrasaintmleux liked by bffstagram, alexandrasaintmleux and 270 others

y/nstagram finally found someone else to join my café de paris obsession 🥐

bffstagram next bff sweetie run while you can... ↳ y/nstagram stop scaring the pretty bitches off damn 😔 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux bffstagram she won't let me leave 😭 ↳ y/nstagram i deserve better friends ↳ bffstagram you couldn't live without us xx ♥️ y/nstagram

alexandrasaintmleux la prochaine fois, nous irons au casino ! (next time, we go to the casino!) ↳ y/nstagram finance étudiante a dit non (student finance said no) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😔 s'il tu plait... pour moi? 🥺 (please... for me?) ↳ y/nstagram pray for my wallet guys...

friend3 wdym you just casually befriended The Alexandra Saint Mleux??? ↳ y/nstagram i thought her skirt was pretty and had no idea she was like famous 😭 then we just kept running into each other !! ↳ friend3 i need to fly out to monaco damn you can't even see her in the pic but ik she looked So pretty... ↳ alexandrasaintmleux i like your friends y/n :p ↳ y/nstagram just wait til you see them drunk,,,

📍 jimmy'z, monaco

👤 alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 2,962 others

y/nstagram started the night in a night club and ended on a yacht,,, just monaco things (apparently) 🛥️

friend3 y/n if you don't answer my texts RIGHT NOW !!!! ↳ y/nstagram 😉 any reason ml? ↳ friend3 i'm gonna swim to monaco and bite chunks out of your ankles what the FUCK ??? when were you gonna tell me you were just casually hanging with [REDACTED] ↳ landonorris i'm guessing i'm redacted? 😎 ↳ friend3 i need to go lie down ↳ y/nstagram landonorris dude 😭 ↳ landonorris was it something i said? 😉

alexandrasaintmleux meilleure amie 💗 (best friend) ↳ y/nstagram merci de m'avoir invitée ! je t'aime ! (thank you for inviting me! love you!)

maxverstappen1 was lovely meeting you last night schat x ↳ y/nstagram you too max! don't forget to send me those pics of the kids! x ↳ bffstagram kids? ↳ y/nstagram his cats! jimmy and sassy! 🐱❤️🐱 ↳ bffstagram your knack for finding cat people never fails to impress me ♥️ y/nstagram

danielricciardo dude my liver actually hurts... ↳ y/nstagram hey you're the one who suggested a drinking contest ↳ danielricciardo yeah because i normally WIN you freak ↳ y/nstagram i'm a broke uni student, my drink of choice is normally vodka so cheap it's legally paint stripper

georgerussell63 carmen's phone died but she said to remind you about brunch today ↳ y/nstagram on it!! alex is gonna come round and bring me 😊

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 2,938 others

y/nstagram met some VIC's (very important cats) today! 🐱 also f's in chat for my café de paris 😔

bffstagram f ↳ danielricciardo f ↳ georgerussell63 f ↳ landonorris f ↳ carmenmmundt f ↳ alexandrasaintmleux f ↳ maxverstappen1 f

friend3 babies!! the second pic oh i could cry ↳ y/nstagram she slept there for like 3 hours 😭 managed to actually sit through a whole gp though so a wins a win! ↳ friend3 y/n watching f1?? who is she?? ↳ y/nstagram their dad forced me 💔 ↳ maxverstappen1 um who cheered so loud when i won that she woke poor sassy up?? ↳ y/nstagram 🤐

charles_leclerc i didn't know café de paris do takeout? ↳ maxverstappen1 they do if you're me :) ↳ y/nstagram the only reason i'm considering keeping him around 😉 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux charles_leclerc and why have you never used your influence to get ME takeout café de paris "prince of monaco" ↳ charles_leclerc look what you've done... y/nstagram ♥️ y/nstagram

fan they're definitely max's cats but who is she? ↳ fan she knows alexandra so maybe they're in the same friendship group??

3 months later

liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 308 others

y/nstagram working hard or hardly working 🌸

alexandrasaintmleux quand avez-vous passé votre examen ? (when's your exam?) ↳ y/nstagram lundi prochain,,, mon ami du café me manque 😔 (next monday,,, missing my cafe friend) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux nous fêterons cela quand tu auras terminé 💗 (we'll celebrate when you're finished)

bffstagram the red bulls... i wait 3 years white man does it in one week ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ y/nstagram hey! made him wait at least 2 months :p

friend3 the f1 book.. one of us one of us!! ↳ y/nstagram apparently i can't keep saying "the one with the red cow on it" when talking about his car,,, ↳ maxverstappen1 its a bull... literally a red bull... ↳ y/nstagram blah blah blah it's red and goes moo ↳ maxverstappen1 everyday i wake up to such disrespect ↳ charles_leclerc i'm just glad someone's keeping your ego in check ♥️ y/nstagram

friend1 when are you coming back to england :( ↳ y/nstagram i'm hoping to come visit next month! ↳ maxverstappen1 about that...

📍 jeddah, saudi arabia

👤 redbullracing, mine liked by redbullracing, y/nstagram and 1,928,385 others

maxverstappen1 First P1 of the season at the first race! Always grateful to stand on that top podium, especially today 🙂

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fan sorry WHO is that in the third pic????

fan bro soft launching on a race win post...

y/nstagram trots op jou ❤️ proud of you ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ fan 🤨

fan did you guys see the way his girl jumped the fence to get to him after he won? relationship goals fr

schecoperez another red bull 1-2! 💪 ↳ maxverstappen1 you gave me a run for my money at the end there old man! ↳ schecoperez less of the old thank you

redbullracing rue when was this ↳ fan admin finding out about max's relationship at the same time as us is so on brand ↳ redbullracing and here i thought we were besties 😔 ↳ maxverstappen1 😉

danielricciardo you look hot in the second photo and it's not just the heat 😍 ↳ fan maxiel lives on ❤️

fan he tagged her as mine BROOOOOO who's got this man so down bad??

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 194 others

🔒 y/nstagram account locked DOWN but it's so worth it for you ❤️

maxverstappen i'm sorry liefje i should have thought about this before inviting you... ↳ y/nstagram i don't regret going maxie,,, and i certainly don't regret hugging you after the race,, i knew what i was getting into, it's just a lot ❤️ ↳ maxverstappen1 ik ben gek op jou ❤️ (i'm crazy about you) ↳ y/nstagram mijn charmante prins ❤️ (my prince charming)

alexandrasaintmleux you do what's best for you ma cocotte 💗 honestly going private at the start of mine and charles' relationship was one of the best things for us ↳ y/nstagram the woe of being a wag 😔

daniel.jpg dude can you accept my follow request ↳ maxverstappen1 you followed her from your jpg acc but not your main? ↳ daniel.jpg never said i was smart ↳ charles_leclerc ^ ↳ georgerussell63 ^ ↳ landonorris ^ ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ maxverstappen1 ^ ↳ y/nstagram ^ ↳ oscarpiastri ^ ↳ daniel.jpg oscarpiastri HOW DID YOU GET HERE?? you haven't even MET y/n yet ↳ y/nstagram that's my son watch your tone. ↳ daniel.jpg i am very sorry miss y/n l/n PLEASE let me in ↳ y/nstagram oscarpiastri shall i? ↳ oscarpiastri lemme think on it ↳ daniel.jpg i hate it here

📍 suzuka, japan

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, y/nstagram and 1,394,582 others

redbullracing a quick look into max's garage! already over halfway through the season and your current world champion is on track for his 4th year running 💪

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maxverstappen1 you know how we do 👊

fan i see a y/n at the back!! ↳ fan who is y/n? ↳ fan his gf! she was first spotted in jeddah and she's been to quite a few of his races this year! ↳ fan do you have her ig? ↳ fan y/nstagram but it's private!

fan 4 time world champ incoming! ♥️ redbullracing

user lewis is gonna reclaim his title! ↳ fan ok gramps lets get you back to the home

fan best team in the world

user oh the gold digger is back ↳ redbullracing blocked, deleted and reported ↳ fan red bull stand on business ↳ redbullracing no one messes with OUR redbull girl! 👊

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 274 others

🔒 y/nstagram did you know red bull gives you wings? 👼

maxverstappen1 must have taken you forever to think of that caption ↳ y/nstagram what can i say you're dating a comedic genius

friend1 damn ma lend me one of those jackets xx ↳ y/nstagram omg pls take one he won't stop giving them to me,,, ↳ friend1 i'll take the white cap too if you're offering 👀 ↳ y/nstagram 🫡

bffstagram the third pic... y/n STAND UP ↳ y/nstagram he has the prettiest eyes 😍 my man my man my maaaaan ↳ bffstagram we've lost her boys...

alexandrasaintmleux i see the ferrari jacket 👀 ↳ y/nstagram max nearly threw me out of the room fr ↳ maxverstappen1 you deserved it ↳ maxverstappen1 also i'm burning it when you're not looking ↳ y/nstagram charlie gave it to me :((((( ↳ charles_leclerc yeah max you wouldn't burn sweet charlie's jacket would you? ↳ maxverstappen1 i'd burn you IN the jacket if you don't stop ↳ charles_leclerc 🫦 damn i love when you talk dirty to me ↳ y/nstagram ,,, alexandrasaintmleux should we leave them to it? ↳ alexandrasaintmleux after what you showed me on tumblr... yeah maybe we should

daniel.jpg loving the drip ↳ maxverstappen1 has she still not accepted your main follow request? ↳ daniel.jpg no... i know it's oscars fault somehow ↳ oscarpiastri why am i catching strays? ↳ y/nstagram i watched baku 2018 ,, you're lucky i don't block your jpg account ↳ daniel.jpg THAT WAS SO LONG AGO LET ME INNNNNNN

📍 zandvoort, the netherlands

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by y/nstagram, maxverstappen1 and 1,998,928 others

redbullracing and maxverstappen1 getting P1 and being crowned a 4 time world champion at the final race of the season AND your home race? max verstappen we tip our hats to you 💙

see 98,284 comments

fan him lifting the trophy and mouthing "this is for you" to y/n i am so lonely oh my god

y/nstagram mijn kampioen ❤️ (my champion) ♥️ redbullracing, maxverstappen1

fan max verstappen world domination!! lets go champ!!!

fan y'know maybe the dutch national anthem isn't too bad...

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by bffstagram, maxverstappen1 and 290,948 others

y/nstagram i moved to monaco for a degree in french and fell for a dutchman,,,

max, it has been a privilege to know you, to share your happiness and to love and be loved by you. watching you do what you do best fills me with so much joy and i can't wait to see you dominate the track for many more years. here's to you. ik hou van je, mijn kampioen ❤️ (i love you, my champion)

(also hi fans of max, i am very scared about being perceived by so many of you, please be nice ❤️)

maxverstappen1 mijn hart en ziel, ik weet niet hoe ik het in het Engels moet uitdrukken maar bedankt dat je in mijn leven bent gekomen, je maakt alles een beetje mooier. ik hou van je ❤️ (my heart and soul, i don't know how to express it in english but thank you for coming into my life, you make everything a little brighter. i love you) ↳ y/nstagram maxie 🥹 can't wait to celebrate you tonight ❤️

fan hi y/n!!! glad you felt comfortable enough to come off private! we're a nice bunch i promise! (at least most of us are) ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan also if anyone is mean to you i will do something that puts me on the national news 🫶

fan we've only seen glimpses of her on tv, max you bagged a baddie DAMN ♥️ maxverstappen1

fan mama y papa ↳ landonorris real ↳ oscarpiastri real

danielricciardo I'M IN !!! ↳ danielricciardo WAIT YOU WENT OFF PRIV??? y/n thats so mean wtf :(

alexandrasaintmleux mon couple préféré 💗 (my favourite couple) ↳ y/nstagram c'est grâce à toi alex, je t'aime 💕 (it's all thanks to you alex, love you)

👤 y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, landonorris and 1,386,297 others

maxverstappen1 an appreciation post for mijn liefje. being able to put up with me dragging her halfway across the world nearly every month so i can drive fast cars whilst studying for her degree. graduated top of her class (with an elective in dutch 😉). here's to you and to us. (oh and happy 11 months, i may love you a little bit) ❤️

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y/nstagram my boy ❤️ could't have done it without your support ↳ maxverstappen1 i know, i am an Amazing boyfriend 😉 ♥️ y/nstagram

landonorris congrats y/n! knew there had to be a big brain in that ol' noggin of yours ↳ y/nstagram thanks lan! maybe i can actually teach you some french now 🤓

fan taking a long walk off a very short bridge

redbullracing congratulations to the brains of the couple! hoped you liked the gifts 💙 ↳ y/nstagram a dutch for dummies book, you think you're so funny don't you 😐

fan the flowers 😭😭😭

fan doesn't post about his championship but posts about his girl... need me a man like that

[bunny-jpeg]

the sun's lullaby & the moon's symphony

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, photography, snark & sass, enemies to lovers (i guess), parental issues, secret relationship, talks of marriage & children, cowgirl position, admissions of love, long fic

this bunny runs on comments, reblog & tags! do you part to feed the bunny! (this was a thrill to write, i've been writing a lot of rivals au, so feel free to suggest your own! i also still have my bakery series going on, so feel free to order up. love ya'll)

this all started when you were teens. stubborn and stupid. the two prodigies of racing of two different stories. the moon, who was raised from birth to be the god of racing. and the sun, who emerged from nothing and up towards the sky to claim her rightful spot as a champion of the track.

the sun and the moon. you and max verstappen

so when you shared your first kiss with him at sixteen over a stolen a bottle of wine from your parent's fridge. you knew that you'd be forever link to the other driver.

it was over dinner in monaco, the lighting of the place was low. and max was seated across from you. occasionally his foot would rub up against your ankle.

you looked at him over the glass of wine in your hand, "you're not going to make me say it."

he smiled as he swallowed his bite of food, "why, prefer to tell me in private?" belgium was a great weekend for him, opposed to you. max sailed into second while you dragged behind in eighth.

but even at dinner, you'd never give the red bull driver the benefit, you'd rather have your bones wrung out of you like liquid in a rag than admit that max was good at racing. that would be the final pump of his ego that he'd go sailing away.

you put your glass down and rested your chin on your interlocked fingers, "maxie." you fluttered your eyelashes at him, "maybe if you came in first, i'd actually have something to congratulate you on." you reached across the small table and touched the inside of his wrist, you looked at the part of exposed flesh then to his face once more. you pouted at him, "second is the first place of losers."

he gave you a sarcastic smile before he took his wrist away, "and what about you, i thought you were supposed to be the rabbit on the track. out racing all of us. i guess daddy's money can only buy so much talent."

"you're a fucking dick, verstappen."

he shrugged, "and yet, you can't get enough of me. a glutton for punishment you are." his eyebrows knitted together as he frowned for a moment, "i think you're just trying to find daddy's approval, except that fucker won't give it to you. just like you won't give me what i want." he reached for you and cupped the side of your face. it was moments like these you remembered how big his hands were, "break the cycle, rabbit. be a good girl."

you pulled away from him, you heard the shutter of a camera and you both looked over. you grimaced, perfect. another photo to the collection of you and max in compromising positions. without context you looked like a pair on a date. you could already read out the statement you'd have to make if this all got a little too big.

you kicked max under the table, "good job, dickhead." your voice was painfully low.

he kicked you back, but not as hard, "you started it."

this night would end the same. the photo would go semi-viral. you'd have to lay low on social media for a few days. wash, rinse, repeat when you two eventually fuck up again. and like every other dinner together, it ended up with you two in his bed. those broad hands all over your back as you rode him. you held his face and looked down at him as you bounced your hips.

photographic evidence of you two together were vast, spanning close to ten years at that point. you both met in your carting days, with promises to make it to formula one. the photos only got more intense once you both entered the league.

they ranged from the two of you at a party together, or sneaking out a club holding hands. there was one of you on his boat, handing him a drink and what looked like him kissing you on the cheek. there were tons of his arm around you and your face buried in his broad chest. over the years the "evidence" had been piling up to suggest that you two were a couple.

if that was true, then why did you want to strangle max verstappen?

you stalked towards his driver's room after the dutch grand prix and opened the door without knocking. you felt fury in your bones as he looked at you. you put your hands on his throat and got close up into his face.

"you fucking asshole, you really are the devil aren't you, max?" you snapped. you weren't choking him, but rather holding him as a sign of dominance.

he grabbed your wrists and said, "and you're going to kill me now? i didn't think choking was your style." then pulled your hands away from his throat, "people might get the wrong idea if you start leaving marks."

"you ran me off the track. you knew what you were doing when you cut me off like that. you think you're so slick there, verstappen. is it because you're old man was there? wanted to show off to the pathetic excuse of a driver! fuck you, max. i didn't need the dnf because you needed to be a show off to daddy dearest, you piece of shit!" you knew you were just ranting, you sounded like a rambling mess but you wanted to win this.

through your rambling, he leaned in and kissed you on the lips, he didn't move when you tried to hit him in the chest. when he pulled away he held you by the back of the head, "it's all part of the game. you told me you'd rather be flayed than have me go easy on you. i'm treating you like every other driver. don't get mad."

you took a heavy breath before you pulled him in and kissed him on the mouth once more. he smirked against the kiss and wrapped his arms around you tightly. he held you close to him as you passionately made out with him.

when you pulled away, he said, "feel better now?"

you gripped onto the front of his shirt and deeply exhaled, "i could kill you and get away with it." then looked at him. his blue eyes always seemed to stare right into your soul. because maybe you two were bound by your souls, meant to exist in each other's orbit until the day you die.

he loosely kept his arms around you waist and pressed his forehead up against you, "i know. and i'd happily die by your hand." when he was tender like this, you wanted to bite his head off. but instead you simply let him hold you.

"you're an ass, verstappen." you muttered as you clung to the front of his uniform, "i hate that you know me so well and can get under my skin so easily."

he chuckled and held you closer, "i'm pretty sure you can map out every scar on my body and where i got it."

"like that time i accidentally stabbed you in the rib with a corkscrew." you said.

he nodded, "yeah and that time i fell down your stairs at your old home and you, me and charles had to figure out if my foot was broken."

you looked up at him and pressed your chin against his chest to look up at his face, "you really should've gone to the doctor for that. like two of your toes were purple."

"i lived." he then held you face for a brief moment before there was a knock on the door and you two stepped back from one another. he patted you on the arm before he shuffled you to the couch to act more casual than what you were just doing.

at least no one took any photos of you moment of romantic intimacy. in all fairness, what photos the press had of the two of you. was nothing compared to the photos max personally had of the two of you. everything from you in his driver's suit with nothing underneath (and the zipper open), to videos of you giving him head. he even had a video you took of him eating you out.

max had mapped every inch of skin with his lips and tongue over the years. from the plane of your back to behind your ear, the back of your knee and in between your legs. he could probably trace your body from memory with his lips. there was a likely chance you could do the same about him.

it continued on into the last night in the netherlands. the room max was staying in was lovely. you assumed only the best for the country's golden boy. you had come over after dinner and max was more than happy to see you.

you were seated by the big window with your feet propped up against the window ledge. in your hand was a glass of wine and you felt content watching the city go by as night hung in the sky. max was in the shower, so you were keeping yourself company.

you heard the shower turn off and you put the glass of wine down on the window ledge before he came out. even now, seeing max's cock made you look away to preserve some modesty.

you hoped that your expression didn't give it away. as he walked out naked with him rubbing the towel in his hair. to see him so exposed made your heart jump.

"like what you see?" he asked. he went over to the bed and got onto it, "i'm sorry for keeping you waiting."

you shot him a look, "i can't believe you convinced me to do this. is this a way for you to inflate your ego even more? you won this race and now you want to stick your cock in the one you drove off the track! and you didn't even get punished for it!" you wanted to stop your foot like a child out of sheer anger.

he chuckled, "well, you're free to come and go. i'm not forcing you to do anything... i certainly didn't force you to wear that dress either." his gaze on you was hot and it made you more flustered.

"i wanted something i could replace if you tore it." never forget when you had to replace your driving suit because someone got a good hold of it and ripped it at the seams around your pussy and ass.

call max impatient, it wasn't like your team couldn't afford it. if they couldn't he could always make room for you at red bull. he had to look after you.

"then i suggest you take it off before i start getting my hands on you." he spread his legs a little wider on the bed. the towel was on the floor to be hung up later, "last chance, my treasure. i want to hear you say it... you want me."

you reached behind you to get the zipper down. you'd rather die, but his heated gaze was enticing. you instead replied, "i want to ride you max, i want you under me as i fuck the daylights out of you. it is not a want, it is a need."

max barked out a laughter, "always so poetic." then licked his lips when you stepped out of the dress you wore. letting it grow wrinkled on the floor. it was followed by the expensive matching pair of bra and panties.

"did i buy that for you?" he asked curiously. he prone to sending you gifts in the off-season. while the rest of the drivers got joke gifts between each other. max always handed you something with a price tag that would make most gawk at.

you looked down at the matching set. you shrugged, "i honestly couldn't tell you. the brand it italian so, maybe it was a gift from charles." you made a face as you thought about it. it was all a lie, it was obviously from max.

the idea of charles even knowing your bra size felt weird, but with max it felt normal.

something crossed max's face as he leaned a little forward, his arms crossed along his toned chest, "funny. you're quite the comedian.' he raised his eyebrows at you, "so tell me, does leclerc fuck better than i do? is there other men i should know about? i heard you went on a boat trip with zak brown, is he getting action too? whore."

you made a face, "you're a possessive fuck, verstappen." you swallowed, "and if it strokes your ego, no. i'm not fucking anyone else because if i tried to fuck someone else i think you'd make their death look like an accident." you stepped forward, "if i told you that i was getting action from anyone, could be a random man. you'd kill them!"

max puffed out his chest for a moment in defiance, "really? what about that lovely girl, that reporter during our first year in formula one. you saw one picture and got the wrong idea. you left you crying. so don't act like i am so mean man." he uncrossed his arms as you got closer.

"she was going to use you, max. i knew it. you were so eager to be loved by someone, she would've taken advantage of you."

max sighed and braced his arms behind him. the two of you were naked and you were bickering. he said, "then name someone who won't take advantage of me."

you got onto the bed, your hand on his chest. you could feel the quickened pace of his heart. you said softly, lips close to his, "me." before you pulled him flat onto the bed and started to make out with him.

he loved the sound of that. when the kiss was broken, he watched you straddle his waist. if max verstappen was going to pick any lover, it was going to be the woman who drove him crazy on and off the track. someone he pushed him to be the best.

but in glimmers of tenderness, a soft underbelly. max knew that you loved him. and he loved you. it was just the words got all mixed up from the brain to the tongue.

i love you often became i'm going to beat you.

you sank onto his cock and hissed a little bit from the stretch. you held onto his shoulders for leverage while he guided you with his hands on your hips. your stomach flipped as you got fully seated on him.

"beautiful."

"shut up, max."

"never. not for you."

it was mushy, emotional in a way that made you core throb. a vulnerability that made you run hot. you rolled your hips against him, his cock nudged against the softest parts of you and it made your back arched.

max eventually got himself up against the headboard to feel closer to you. his hands left your hips and started to palm at your breasts. he soon leaned in for kissed along the soft skin. even his tongue dragged across your nipples, which only made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"you always feel beautiful." he said, "no one else has been like you." he had changed so much since you met, ten years of this. the back and forth.

it made you chest clenched. you could only imagine what would happen if all this came out. but, in fairness you couldn't keep it behind the doors of hotel rooms forever. the minor controversies of the two of you in each other's grasp.

you hated to admit it. but you loved max verstappen. he was as much a part of you as you were of him. racing was in your blood, but the draw towards each other. a twin flame.

he'd almost run you off the track, you'd get into his face. he'd buy you dinner and you'd slink off to his room. away from prying eyes, the two of you would make love. or at the very least a primal kind of sex that left your head spinning.

it was a game, one to shield feelings. but as you moved your hips against him. it became more obvious that you were both under a delusion. you thought he didn't know that you loved him and he though you didn't know that he loved you.

but was obvious. as you moved and he touched you. you two knew each other too well. it was an obsession and you had long since pushed past the line of enemies.

enemies didn't look at each other like they wanted to devour one another. max verstappen didn't think of lewis hamilton or charles leclerc when he saw engagment rings in shop windows. you didn't think of george russell or oscar paistri when saw expensive wrist watches. you didn't have dreams in your early adult years of you dressed in wedding white and alex albon beaming at you, and max didn't jerk off to a vast collection of nude photos of lando norris. you two were in your own little orbit.

you panted heavily as you continued to move. the feeling were growing as you felt the throb in your chest. you ranked your fingers down his chest.

"max." you panted.

"yes."

you pulled him by his face up for another kiss as you continued to move against him. you moaned into the kiss, and he in turn whimpered against you. the feeling was prodding at just the right parts of his brain.

you were beautiful and it drove him wild.

"i'm glad no one else can have you." max said softly, tinged with tenderness, "they wouldn't know how to handle a woman like you."

you held his face for a moment and looked into his eyes, "oh yeah and you're an easy ride too." then pulled him in for another searing kiss.

he held onto your hips and guided you quickly against him. both of you working for a common goal (for one).

you braced your hands on his bare chest to give yourself support and continued your movements. a few more heavy thrusts of your hips before you leaned down and kissed him on the lips. your cunt tight around him as the wash of lust came over you. you came, then he came. and it both left you exhausted and breathless.

you yelped a little when max grabbed you by the middle and pulled you on the beside beside him. he peppered your face with kisses and you felt hot all over. your heart leapt at the feeling of him holding you. his softening cock up against you.

"you're beautiful."

"max." you said softly, the heat still in your cheeks.

he held you, your head against his chest. one of his hands was on the back of your head while the other was interlocking his fingers with yours. you were gravitated towards the sounds of his heartbeat.

you sighed, "i fear i have to admit something to you, verstappen."

he perked up a little, "oh?"

you sighed and raised your head. your hair was a mess and you looked tired from the long day on the track and the longer night together. you said, "this isn't me showing weakness. if you mistake what i am going to say as weakness, then you have another thing coming."

he looked at you with raised eyebrows and asked, "what is it?"

you rubbed his broad chest and said in quiet voice, "max. i'm in love with you. and i have been for some time." you swallowed, diverting your eyes from him, "i think we suck as rivals. i think we need to become lovers, for real. even if we don't tell the press and give them that satisfaction. to be able to call you mine is all i would want."

he took you by the chin and pressed a kiss against your lips. your heart jumped and when he pulled away, he said quietly in return as if it were a secret, "i'd want nothing more. i think we're about to save the whole grid anymore headaches."

-

driving felt like a lifetime ago, as did the rivalry you and max shared. the day after max retired, he posted two pictures online. the first one had basically been scrubbed from the internet, except on max's phone. it was you two in your first year of formula one. your legs draped over his lap while he took a selfie of you two kissing. the second was a similar pose, years later. when the charade was over and you two finally admitted your feelings to one another.

in the caption he made a cheeky comment about how the two of you probably weren't as careful as you thought. but, that was being young and dumb. when you retired two years later, with two championships under your belt. you posted a photo of the small wedding you had a year prior.

your caption read, "call me mrs. verstappen and we're going to have a problem." you had simply hyphened your last names. which was then passed onto your son that you had a year after your retirement.

"niko." max was as he tried to wrangle his son, he eventually hoisted the little boy up, "you have to put on a life jacket, remember?" he smiled at his son, "you have to listen to mama, nicholas." he reminded his son.

the little boy nodded rapidly as max carried him onto the boat. you had lunch packed in a bag while max carried the rest of the stuff needed as well. the three of you were going for a little boat ride for the afternoon.

max made sure that his son was secure in a life jacket while you put the bag you were carrying down. you took a seat and picked up your son. you felt max's eyes lingering on you.

"what?" you asked half-jokingly.

max smiled, "i love you." he seemed lighter now, he had all the trophies he could ever need.

"i love you too." you responded, a phrase you had said a thousand times at least. to think that there was a period of time that the idea of loving him would've made you pull your hair out. you then kissed youe son on the cheek, "but i love you more, nico."

the little boy laughed and max winked at you before he went to get the boat started. while you busied yourself getting sunscreen on your son, you held your smile.

the media circus around you two eventually died now. there was no draw to mystery of your relationship, it also didn't help that the two of you kept nicholas out of the public eye. it left you both retired with your son. you'd sometimes think about how you were all those years earlier, when max was still your 'rival'. but, in all fairness, even if you two did stand toe-to-toe with one another and pushed one another into racing greatness. he was a better husband and father than he ever was a rival.

the sun, the moon and their little star.

[badplayerana]

Current favorite cherik fics

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

And I really mean 'current' because this changes every other week lol but for now I'd like to give back and rec them, if the cherik nation is looking for some really good stories

Stars Will Tumble From The Blue by Baamon5evr

“Just one night, no fear, no shame, no blame or rage. Just serenity. Just us. Just one night to acknowledge that there is more here and then we go our separate ways and you go back to being angry and hating me.” *missing scene* set between First Class and Days of Future Past

One Life for Yourself and One for Your Dreams by endingthemes

When 00 Agent Raven Darkholme manages to capture the elusive Magneto and bring him in for questioning about a dangerous arms deal involving international criminal Sebastian Shaw, it’s up to Quartermaster Charles Xavier to get him to talk. With time running out, Charles needs to convince Magneto to trust him, but they’re both far too good at keeping secrets, and the growing attraction between them is only making things more difficult.

Dark Flowers by Niphrehdil (I made a post dedicated to this one a while back but this might be my all time favorite, so here it is again)

When Charles is captured by a secret organization and used as a weapon for searching and destroying other mutants, Erik has to go after and save him. Erik keeps telling himself he does it only for the mutant kind. At least until he finds Charles.

the way it travels in and keeps emitting light by populuxe

Charles and Erik aren’t friends: their mutual dislike was both instant and enduring, from that very first day Raven introduced them. But when Charles gets into a life-altering accident, the connections between all three of them start to fundamentally shift, too.

Robbers by dsrobertson (mind the tags/warnings!!)

1933. Bank robber AU. The Bureau of Investigation are after Public Enemy Number Two, bank robber Erik Lehnsherr. Charles Xavier is fiancé to Special Agent Moira MacTaggart. A closet homosexual, Charles visits the Manhattan pansy club scene and meets Max Eisenhardt. Only as time goes on, Max Eisenhardt turns out to be Erik Lehnsherr. Public Enemy Number Two. Charles learns exactly what happens when you accidentally fall in love with a male bank robber in 1930s America.

[f1fnatic]

CLINGY ⤿ l. norris 4

→ ( in which. . . ) lando convinces you to have a night out with friends. he does the same and after a few drinks, he misses you and becomes clingy.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written, slight social media au

→ ( pairing. . . ) lando norris x fem!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) mentions of alcohol consumption

→ ( author's note. . . ) i had a lot of fun writing this and super happy with how it turned out. I hope you enjoy! see end for more.

→ ( masterlist )

you and lando had been wanting to go out by yourselves for a while now. you both enjoyed going out together, but the paparazzi and attention lando would receive was overwhelming. so, one day, he suggested you go out with your friends and he with his.

"it'll be good for you," he said, "you know, to get smashed without worrying about staying or looking sober enough for the media."

you nod agreeing, "you have a point. but what about you?"

"what about me?" he questions, "go out for a birthday or celebration. i'll go out with carlos or max, maybe daniel." he finishes shrugging.

"hmm, fine. but you have to promise to be responsible."

"pinky." is all he said. he stretched out his hand showing you his pinky finger. you took yours and wrapped it with his, sealing the promise.

that was last week. tonight, you were celebrating a new job opportunity you had gotten. while you would had loved to be celebrating with lando, you knew he'd only push you to go out with your friends.

so, there you were, in a crowded nightclub, music blasting and alcohol coursing through your bloodstream. you sat in a booth sipping on a martini, wearing a simple orange skin-tight long-sleeved dress. the color reminded you of lando, so it was a no-brainer to wear it tonight.

you and your friends were talking mindlessly about nothing and everything at the same time. the night was going swell. you and lando had gotten ready together and it took him some convincing to not rip the dress off of you and delay your arrival.

sitting at the booth, you pulled out your phone and opened instagram. you beckoned your friends to push their drinks towards yours for mock cheers to post on your story.

instagram ↴

yourusername posted a story!

caption: girls night 🍸

mentioned; yourfriend1, yourfriend2, yourfriend3, yourfriend4, yourfriend5

—————————————————————

you set your phone down back into your purse after posting. right after doing so, you and your friend's favorite song played. the booth erupted into cheers, your friend grabbed you by the arm and dragged you from your seat to the dance floor.

while you were with your friends, lando was with carlos and daniel at a seperate club. he was a few too many drinks in. carlos and daniel had ushered him to a table to get him get some water to sober up.

lando had missed you, a lot. he knew that you needed this. he had already seen a handful of paparazzi trying to sneak pictures of him, daniel, and carlos. he didn't want you to have any unwanted pictures taken. he also knew that you were having fun.

daniel eventually got him a glass of water and lando chugged it. the cool, refreshing water cooling him down from the inside out. after setting down the empty glass, he reached for his phone in his back pocket and noticed an instragram notification. a notification specifically from you.

lando opened the app and then viewed your story. it was a picture of you and your friends clinking your drinks together. he didn't know why, but jealousy began to run through him. not the type of jealousy you would get from a crush being with someone else, but the type you get when you feel left out. fomo if you will.

lando missed you. he wanted to be there with you. taking shots and dancing with you. he felt left out. sure, he was having fun with daniel and carlos, but he knew that he would be having 100x more fun if he was with you.

his thoughts were running around in his head. he became fidgety. carlos and daniel observed him from a distance. after a few minutes, lando slid up on your story.

he waited for your answer, he continued to spam you with messages but stopped when there wasn't one. he sighed in defeat. he looked at his watch and it read "12:56". it was almost 1 am. he decided to call it a night. he flagged down carlos and daniel to let them know he was leaving and then called an uber home. once he arrived back to your shared apartment, he made his way to the couch and collapsed.

finally, you were able to peel away from your friends and back to your booth. you grabbed your phone to check the notifications, you noticed multiple from lando. they read:

—————————————————————

—————————————————————

you hurried to respond, apologizing for not answering. you decided it was time to go home. you let your friends know, grabbed your things, and called an uber, you also shot lando a text.

a couple minutes later lando responded letting you know that he was waiting for you at your shared apartment. you got giddy. a wide smile appeared on your face and butterflies in your stomach fluttered. you had been living together for a while now, but the thought of coming home to him, the person you loved with all your heart made it so much more special.

your uber eventually reached your apartment and you swiftly got out, thanking them for the ride. you were moving quicker than usual. while walking to the front door, you fished out your keys from your purse. the heart-locket keychain that held a picture of you and lando jingled in response from being moved.

reaching the front door, you place the key in the lock and turn. the lock unlocks with a satisfying schlick. pushing open the door, you're surprised to feel arms immediately wrap around your waist and engulf you in a hug. your hands are in the air momentarily before you push lando back into the hallway. his hands lay on your hips while his head is in the crook of your neck. placing your things down, you finally wrapped your arms around him.

a muffled "i missed you." comes from his mouth. the vibrations tickle your neck.

"i missed you, too lan." you smile in response.

lando keeps you in the hallway for at least 15 minutes. just the two of you, in silence, slightly swaying back and forth. your breathing was intermingled, taking breaths in and exhaling at the same time. you were both still in your clubbing clothes, and you were sure you might be in them for the rest of the night.

"lan." you whisper, a 'hm' comes in response. "you need to let go, we both need to change."

"but i don't wanna. i want to keep hugging you until i can't stand anymore." he protests. you could tell he was drunk, he was clingy sober, sure, but when drunk that clinginess was multiplied tenfold.

"lando, baby, please. i want to get out of these heels." you plead. it takes him a few minutes before he pulls away. he looks at you with a pout on his face, eyebrows upturned and mouth downturned. you look at him with a frown, almost mimicking his pout.

"we can cuddle all we want when i change. okay?" you reason.

"promise?" he asks.

"pinky." you respond firmly holding your pinky up in front of him. he interlocks his with yours, sealing the promise like you did a week ago. he keeps hold of your pinky and eventually goes to hold your hand. you lead him to your bedroom with interlocked hands. he followed like a puppy.

you both let go in order to change. he moves to the bed to lay down while you move to the bathroom to wash your make-up off and do some light skin care.

"y/nnnn..." comes from the bed.

"yes lan?"

"hurry up, i miss you again." he whimpers. you quickly finished your routine and exited the bathroom, turning the lights off. he was lying on his side under the comforter, eyes closed. you crawled in on your side and lando quickly found your body.

his arms were wrapped around your waist, head going to lay on your chest. your hand reached his hair, slowly playing with the curls. soft snores eventually filled the air. lando was asleep. you lay there and admired his sleeping face. he looked so peaceful. nothing was bothering him, no worries were plaguing his mind. he was at ease.

you placed a light kiss a top his head. he shifted and groggily reached up to place one on your lips and returned to his previous position. a yawn escaped your mouth, sleep was overtaking you. you cuddled closer to lando by entangling your legs with his. a few minutes later, you were fast asleep.

ahhhh first ever request! thank you for requesting :)!! i am happy with how this turned out and i hope this fulfilled your request! i had a lot of fun writing this and messing around with the instagram dm maker 😆 thank you for reading! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well :)

request from; luli3219 Hello can you write something about jealousy (positive) Lando x fem!reader, were they goes out separately; him with his friends and she with her friends, and when she posting a video on instagram and he replied a little bit drunk that he missed her. And when she come home after him he gets so touchy and clingy

[astonmartinii]

babysitter duty | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

an emergency meeting at red bull means max finally meets the horner family babysitter and chaos ensues

note: i will obviously not be using christian's real kids in this, this is a work of fiction. there will be no real pictures of his kids, neither will i use their real names (i actually have no clue what they are and cannot be bothered to google it lol)

yourusername added to their story

[caption: when all the big businessmen crash baking night]

yourusername

liked by yourbff and others

tagged: yourbff

yourusername: last weekend before the eff won starts again i.e. my last weekend before my only friends are literal children

view all 27 comments

yourbff bring the kids out me thinks

yourusername my boss literally follows this account dumbass

christianhorner do not take my children clubbing

yourusername YES SIR 🫡

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, christianhorner and 223 others

yourusername: wasn't raining in oxford for once so a picnic was only necessary

view all 10 comments

yourbff they're so so precious

christianhorner who taught her that sign?

yourusername you did??? stop swearing so much in drive to survive sir

maxverstappen1 she's not wrong

christianhorner why are you here?

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 601,778 others

maxverstappen1 best way to start the season and to end a ten year drought in Bahrain!! thank you to everyone in the garage and all the fans in the stands

view all 10,865 comments

yourusername smashed it maxy

maxverstappen1 why thank you i'm blushing

user67 what. the. fuck. is that ^^^

themaxverstappenstan33 i am actually bamboozled

danielricciardo ignoring whatever meltdown is happening in these comments - congrats max !!

yourusername added to their story

[caption: school run days]

maxverstappen1 added to their story

f1wagsupdates

liked by f1girly77, likedbypierre and 77 others

f1wagsupdates this is y/n y/ln, she's a live-in babysitter for christian horner and more recently, she seems to be the one catching max verstappen's attention. as far as we know they first met after the top officials at red bull met for an emergency meeting at christian horner's home - we know she was present because she posted on her story with one of the kids baking during the meeting. since then she has been commenting on his posts and max posted a picture of him with a girl on his story in an outfit y/n has posted in before. do you think they're cute?

view all 21 comments

yourusername someone fancies themselves a detective

user34 oof she gagged yall

hugsforcharles tbf she has a point, you guys are digging way too into all of it

lilacverstappen i know this is a gross invasion of privacy but i kinda think they're cute

user33 you're not wrong

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,206,781 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1 fuck u sherlock holmes i'll decide when i announce my relationship ... anyhow, you're cute, sorry christian but you're going to have to find a new babysitter

view all 23,089 comments

yourusername I LOVE YOU MAXY but i love those kids more so looks like you're movign to oxford

maxverstappen1 i never agreed to that

yourusername say goodbye to the tax free life and say hello to crayons and picnics

christianhorner you'll have three very angry kids to deal with max, but aside from that, i'm very happy for the both of you

yourusername love you bossman

maxverstappen1 love you bossman

danielricciardo this is not usually how this plot line ends

landonorris STOP RIGHT THERE OLD MAN THIS IS A WHOLESOME POST

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, christianhorner and 22,301 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername add max moving into christian's house to ur f1 bingo cards - you can't take me away from these kids, they're kinda my only friends

view all 3,451 comments

maxverstappen1 i've been here one day and i'm convinced @christianhorner ur kids are evil geniuses

yourusername obvs they are maxy, they're salty spice's kids

user46 omg she calls him salty spice as well

christianhorner don't make me regret giving you a room near mine

yourusername GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER CHRISTIAN... maybe invest in some ear plugs ;)

christianhorner consider this your eviction notice

note: bit of a random one lol but i had fun. i know people don't like christian (for good reason) but he's the one it worked with. ALSO my asks are open now !!! so ask away xx

[hairmetal666]

au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.

Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.

The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.

As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.

Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.

Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.

Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.

After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.

Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.

"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.

They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.

She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."

"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."

"He's changed."

"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.

"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."

They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.

"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.

They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.

"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."

Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."

Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.

Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.

Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.

"Good?" Steve asks.

Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."

He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.

"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."

🎬🎸🎬🎸

Fifteen Months Later

"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"

Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.

There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.

"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.

The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.

"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.

"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.

"Liar," Steve answers.

Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."

"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.

Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."

Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.

Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.

His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.

[overtake]

Non-driver Maxiel AU where Max lives in London and is forced into a run club by George.

Warning: mention of vomiting

The sun is obscenely low in sky when George raps at Max’s bedroom door. It’s soft at first, then graduates into louder and louder pounding that Max can’t ignore, even in this hungover haze. He drags his heavy limbs to the shaking bedroom door and flings it open, hoping his visible rage and pillow-creased face make George fuck right off.

“What do you want?” 

George is perky, that irritating fucking smile accompanying clear skin and bright under-eyes. There’s no signs of last night’s adventures left on his face. He’s also wearing the ugliest, most neon green workout set Max has ever laid eyes on. The shorts are obscenely short. Max isn’t wholly convinced George isn’t aspiring for the sex offender registry if he wears those in public.

“You promised you’d attend run club with me,” George says. He begins dropping into little side-to-side leg stretches, and Max has to avert his eyes to avoid being flashed. 

“Mate, I absolutely did not do that.” If a criminal was holding Max’s family hostage and said the only way to save them was running a 5K, he’d have to beg the guy for a chance to say goodbye.

“Yes, you did,” George protests. “It was after that guy you hit on turned out to be straight.”

As if Max needed to be reminded of that part, which does come back to him quite clearly, along with the many g&ts he downed after.

George, rather unwisely, keeps talking. “I said it was a great way to meet people, then Alex said you wouldn’t last a single kilometre in a run club, and then you bet him 10 quid you could finish the run and agreed to come today.” 

Max blinks at him dumbly. To be fair, it does sound like the kind of stupid, competitive bet he’d get into with George’s new boyfriend.

They all technically work for the same company, but Max is in IT and Alex was always tech-literate enough to never need Max's help. Ever since Alex all but moved into this flat — which George's mysteriously wealthy parents pay for, so Max shuts his mouth and deals — they have become well acquainted. George has effectively weaponized their innate need to antagonize each other into fights over who can dry dishes faster, sort out the recycling best, and hang framed photos the straightest.

This, however, is a whole new level.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Max says. He moves to slam the door in George’s face, but George swiftly kicks his foot in the gap.

“Fine, but I’m telling Alex you backed out,” he threatens. He’s serious, too. He’s been begging them to join this run club with him for ages, but it’s been a losing battle against two people who hate both early wakeups and exercise. 

Max thinks of Alex’s smug, delighted face when Max is forced to hand over the money — and he’ll make a whole show of it, probably in front of all their co-workers — and grits his teeth. “I’ll fucking go, but I’m moving out.” 

“That loses its effectiveness when you threaten it every other day,” George informs him, then drops into a lunge that exposes his matching neon green briefs. This is going to be the worst morning of Max’s life.

They roll up to the meeting spot five minutes late and both extremely grumpy: Max at the whole situation, and George at Max because he apparently dressed too slowly. He’d dragged him by his wrist the whole way there. 

George is instantly greeted and swept away into a crowd of runners who could be his fucking clones, short shorts and all. Max briefly wonders if he can escape without George noticing, but as he begins a shuffle toward the edges of the group, someone catches his eye and begins walking over.

“You’re new!” he says, just as eerily enthusiastic as the rest of this group, like it’s not literally six in the morning. Max is beginning to wonder if he’s starring in a horror movie.

The man flashes perfect teeth at Max. At least he’s extremely beautiful. The least this group could do is give Max something worth looking at if they’re planning to ritually sacrifice him at the end. 

“I’m Max. George made me come,” he says, sticking his thumb out at his evil, detestable flatmate. Max will be unleashing the cats into George’s locked office, where he keeps his priceless collection of vintage teapots on display.

“Oh, he’s always talked about bringing his boyfriend! I’m Carlos. I founded this group.” 

Max tries to resist gagging at more than just leftover gin sloshing around his stomach. Judging by Carlos’ amused expression, he does not succeed. “Flatmate. Definitely not his boyfriend,” he corrects. 

Carlos runs a tan hand through his beautiful, flowing hair, and Max doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s not watching the movement. “Welcome, George’s not-boyfriend. Let’s get you sorted into a pace group. What’s your usual time?” 

“I haven’t run since I played football in school. I will be walking behind the slowest group.” 

Carlos laughs as if Max just made a hilarious quip, which is vaguely concerning seeing as he could not be more serious. “Just run at whatever pace works for you. We believe in pace inclusivity here. You’ll have Daniel over there hanging behind the pack today so nobody gets separated, and we’re just doing 5K today. You’ll be fine.” 

“Just 5K,” Max repeats flatly, but Carlos is already gone. Fuck his life. He’s swearing off all bets with Alex for the rest of time. 

He tries to get a peek at the mysterious Daniel that he’ll seemingly be spending loads of time with, but all he can see is the back of a worn navy cap, long sleeves, and tight compression leggings under shorts. At least he’s not an exhibitionist like George’s little neon crew. 

Carlos stands on a nearby bench, gets everyones attention with a clap, and starts on some monologue about the beauty of morning runs. Max tunes him out and wonders if it might have been a good idea to stretch.

When Carlos gets the run started, Max doesn’t even try to move near George. He lets himself fall back with the only other person who looks vaguely close to struggling. The dude's in an ankle brace, but still, Max is able to keep pace with him for a solid two minutes.

Things start getting a bit shaky 1K in, but Max can still see some of the other runners. He knows the run club pace guy should be somewhere behind him, but he can't turn around to check. If he pauses for even a second, there’s no way he’s making it through.

He’s definitely wheezing quite loudly, and his legs are cramping in ways he never thought possible. Every new step aches. His four-year-old worn down shoes probably couldn’t survive another London rainstorm, let alone an actual run. He knows the wrinkly t-shirt he wore to bed is probably completely drenched in sweat, but he successfully gasps through another kilometre.

Only three to go before Alex has to pay up, and that thought is pushing Max through. He’s almost completely lost track of the group by now, and he can hear the slow tread of the poor guy stuck with him getting closer. The guy — Daniel, he thinks — calls out to him as he approaches. 

“Mate, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to run beside you so you don’t veer off-path.” 

If Max could hear anything over the sound of his own heavy breathing, he might have clocked the Australian accent and familiar cadence. Instead, he focuses so hard on not tripping over a now-unravelling shoelace that he instead misses a giant fucking stick in his way and eats shit straight onto the pavement. 

He sits with his back curled over his scraped-up knees, trying to remember a time when his chest and lungs didn’t physically ache with every short breath. He can feel last night’s drinks and 2 AM kebab churning around his stomach.  

“Are you okay?” a kind, concerned voice asks. There’s a hand lightly touching his back, and it’s making Max feel sickly over-warm in his already burning body. 

Max turns, looks into Daniel’s eyes, and promptly vomits onto his ex-fiancé's pristine white shoes. 

[bruhnze]

Yo solo digo que deberías hacer una historia basada en esta canción.

Or what we know in the world of fanfiction as a song-fic. Sorry, I have intrusive thoughts sometimes

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

To the anons who sended requests like this one, I hope this made you happy aswell :)

Summary: Lucy Bronze gets an invitation to a special speakeasy. Should she go? It is her last chance to use the invitation because she is leaving Barcelona in a couple days…

Warnings: sub!Lucy, smut, smut, smut, dom!Ona, I feel like I should say a BDSM warning.. things get…freaky. use of words like slut/toy/etc.. 50% AU (only bcs Ona is no footballer). Also, there is some Spanish in this, for continuity purposes it is not translated but I have made sure everything can be understood from context (i think).

Vino tinto y una súper Nova

Wordcount: 13k, i really cant keep it short damn, this was supposed to be 5k max.

Lucy stared at the little black card in her hand for what felt like the thousandth time since she had received it three months ago, her mind racing. She would never, right? The thought echoed in her head as she traced the dark red letters on the card with her finger. Elixír Oculto.

The name alone had an intoxicating allure, a whisper of something forbidden. A speakeasy in the heart of Barcelona... how could she resist? The idea was undeniably cool, almost too tempting to let the opportunity go to waste.

When she had done some digging online, the secrecy surrounding the place had only heightened her curiosity. There wasn't much information, but the description she'd found told her everything she needed to know and more.

"Indulge in an intimate atmosphere where connections flourish, and desires are whispered between sips of the finest vintage. At Elixír Oculto, we offer an exclusive, invite-only experience where boundaries blur, and the night unfolds in ways only your imagination can envision. Here, every encounter is as unforgettable as the last, curated for those who seek more than just the ordinary. Discretion is our promise, and a magical experience is our guarantee."

Lucy frowned, her heart beating a little faster. She wasn't really considering this... was she? A sex club? But then again... these were her last days in Barcelona. Maybe this could be her little farewell gift to herself, a night of adventure. It had been too long since she'd done anything like that. But could she really go through with it? Was she truly going to sleep with someone who might be paid for it? Shouldn't she just pick up someone at a bar instead? But then again, who knew if the people there were paid or not?

Maybe, just maybe, everyone with an invite was just like her - someone just looking for a bit of fun, a brief escape. She could meet someone on the same wavelength, someone who wanted what she wanted: a night of no-strings-attached pleasure.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. She had played all her games, packed all her bags... didn't she deserve a little adventure? Five more days in Barcelona, one more night to herself. What was the harm in just taking a peek inside this speakeasy? If it turned out to be nothing, she could simply turn around and leave, laughing about it later.

But what if it wasn't? What if it was everything the card hinted at and more? Lucy glanced at the card again, feeling the pull of the unknown. Maybe... just maybe... this was exactly what she needed.

Lucy stepped into the shower, letting the hot water trail over her, washing away the tension of the day.

She took her time, scrubbing herself thoroughly, feeling grateful once again for the laser hair removal she’d undergone. Smooth skin was a necessity in her line of work for her, where shared dressing rooms were the norm. But it also came in handy for those unexpected moments of.. fun, the ones she hadn't had in far too long.

By the time she finished, it was around 7:00 PM. She sat naked on her bed, her damp hair wrapped in a towel, scrolling through her phone absently. Cooking? Or ordering in and going out? The question lingered as her eyes drifted back to the little black card lying on the nightstand. Ordering in and going out to where, exactly? Was she really going to that club? She asked herself.

She shook her head, making a quick decision. Sushi. Might as well savor some of Spain’s delicious fish before she left. After placing the order, Lucy stood in front of her nearly empty closet, groaning in frustration. Everything's packed... Was she really about to dig into her suitcase for something to wear? All this for a night at a sex club? Pathetic, she thought, but with a sigh, she unzipped the suitcase dedicated to her formal wear anyways.

She went through the neatly folded clothes, searching for the least wrinkled option. Finally, she settled on a brown suit. Not her first choice, but it would do.

At least she hadn't packed her jewelry and didn’t have to dig for that. Small victories.

Glasses or lenses? She hesitated, then opted for glasses. If there was ever a time to pull a "Clark Kent," this was it. With any luck, no one would recognize her there.

Loose hair, she decided. It was different from her usual look, but she slipped two hair ties onto her wrist just in case - always good to be prepared.

Back in the bathroom, she leaned into the mirror, the only one left in her apartment. She couldn’t check her entire outfit, but at least she could perfect her makeup. A touch of light foundation, a sweep of mascara, a hint of blush, she kept it simple.

She smiled at her reflection, feeling a flicker of confidence. You’re Lucy Bronze. She reminded herself, taking a deep breath. You can do whatever you want. You’re going to this club because you deserve it, and because you want it.

She practiced a wink, her attempt at charm feeling a bit rusty. Why was this so hard? she groaned, shaking her head with a small, self-deprecating laugh. She really needed to do things like this more often.

With a splash of her favorite perfume, she sealed the deal. The scent was subtle but intoxicating, just enough to boost her confidence.

She walked into the kitchen, turning on some music to give herself a little pep talk in the form of a dance, well, something resembling a dance at least, but no one could see her here anyways. She needed to get in the mood, shake off some nerves.

No alcohol, she reminded herself. She was still a professional athlete, after all. Even though a drink might ease her anxiety, she wasn’t about to compromise her principles just because she was nervous. She was still in season, and there was no room for slacking off.

Lucy exhaled slowly, pulling herself together. No liquid courage needed. She could do this on her own. She wasn’t going to waste this invitation - she was going to embrace it. And if she was honest with herself, she knew she wanted this.

Lucy took a deep breath, standing inside of what looked like just another ordinary bar. This should be it, right? she thought, glancing around. It didn't look like anything special, but then again, that was the point of a speakeasy.

Her fingers brushed over the little black card in her pocket, the red letters Elixír Oculto barely visible in the dim light. Oh, right... the 'vino tinto' thing, she remembered. The guy inviting her had mentioned something about asking for the red wine specialties. Maybe that was the theme of the club?

Lost in thought, she nearly jumped when a voice interrupted her. "Señorita?"

She looked up quickly, a friendly smile on her face. "Oh, sorry, I was just... uhm..."

The bartender chuckled, recognizing the uncertainty in her expression. "Ah, inglés," he said with a warm smile. "Welcome to our bar. What can I get you tonight, beautiful?"

Lucy felt a light blush creep up her cheeks. Damn, why am I so easy? she thought, flustered. "Uhm..." She hesitated, then held up the card. "Red wine?"

The bartender's smile widened as if he had been expecting this. "I thought so," he said with a knowing nod. He gestured for her to follow him. "Come, I'll show you the wines we have in stock."

They walked through a door behind the bar, descending into a dimly lit wine cellar. The air was cool, the scent of aged wood and fermented grapes heavy around them. The bartender reached for the only bottle on the shelf that wasn’t covered in dust, pulling it gently. The sound of a mechanism clicked, and a hidden doorway swung open. He stepped aside with a polite bow. "I wish you a very good evening, ma’am."

Before Lucy could respond, he was gone, leaving her standing at the threshold of the hidden hallway. This is so freaking cool, she thought, her excitement growing. It was just like in a movie. She walked down the narrow corridor, the exposed brick walls adding to the clandestine vibe, until she emerged into a lavish, red-lit space.

The atmosphere was intoxicating. To her left, a sleek bar was manned by two bartenders who moved skillfully, mixing and pouring drinks with effortless grace. Directly in front of her was a stage where men and women danced sensually, their movements captivating.

Plush chairs were arranged around the stage, some already occupied by persons who watched the performance with rapt attention.

"Puedo ayudarla, señora?" A mans voice spoke softly next to her.

Lucy jumped, startled out of her thoughts. "Uh, I was invited," she said with a nervous chuckle, turning to face the man who had approached her. "First time." She offered.

"Ah, inglés," the man said, echoing the bartender from earlier with a friendly smile. Lucy couldn’t help but laugh at the coincidence of them reacting exactly the same.

"I asked if I could help you," he clarified. "But I see, you’re new here, so of course, I’ll assist you."

Lucy nodded, feeling a bit more at ease.

"First, we need to stop by the hall over here," he said, gesturing to the right as he began walking. Lucy followed closely. "You don't have a coat, but if you'd like, you can leave your jacket here. If not, that's fine too." He pointed to a row of small black lockers built into the wall. "Devices go in here."

Wow, this is serious, Lucy thought, realizing just how secretive the place was. "Okay," she agreed, slipping off her small bag. She started to take out her phone but was gently interrupted.

"No bags allowed either," the man said kindly. "You can place it in the locker and take the key with you."

"Alright," she replied, securing her belongings. The man shut the locker for her and handed her the key.

"Perfect. Now, you’re free to enjoy a drink at the bar. Did you see where it was, or would you like me to show you?"

"I’ll go by myself, thank you," Lucy smiled, feeling a bit more confident as she took the key.

"If you need anything, just ask someone with this," he said, pointing to a wine-red handkerchief peeking out from his breast pocket. "Enjoy your time at Elixír Oculto, beautiful." With a final smile, he walked away.

Lucy blinked, a bit taken aback. Did they call everyone beautiful here, is that just part of the charm? she wondered as she made her way to the bar.

"Uh, could I get a whiskey glass with ice... but with iced tea instead?" she asked awkwardly, feeling a little out of place. "No alcohol," she added quickly, clarifying her request.

The bartender raised an eyebrow but complied without question. Lucy felt a bit of regret - she should’ve grabbed some cash from her bag. How was she going to pay for this? They’d probably let her settle the bill with card when she left.

She thanked the bartender with a smile and took a sip. Yep, iced tea.

"Hello," a soft voice said from behind her, accompanied by a gentle touch on the small of her back.

Lucy stiffened, her heart racing. Is it starting already? She carefully lowered the glass from her lips, afraid of choking, and turned to look.

The woman beside her wore a sharp suit, a wine-red handkerchief in her pocket just like the man from earlier. Ah, she worked here.

"Hi," Lucy replied, realizing she’d been silent for too long. Wait, did she just speak English?

The woman smiled warmly. "The gentleman from earlier mentioned you were English," she explained.

Wait, had she said that out loud? Lucy wondered. Or was her face really that readable?

"It’s normal to feel a bit nervous your first time here," the woman continued, her tone reassuring. "But I want to make sure you’re comfortable."

Lucy nodded, trying to steady her breathing. "T-thanks."

"We’re all about creating magical evenings here," the woman said, her voice soothing. "If I may take the liberty to make an assumption, I’d like to suggest our other room."

Lucy tilted her head, not quite understanding. Another room? Sure, why not? But what was this other room?

"This room is for women who like men," the woman explained, gesturing toward the stage, "and men who like women." She looked at Lucy with kind eyes, no judgment in her gaze. "But we also have a room where women dance for women only."

Lucy swallowed hard, her breath hitching slightly.

"If my assumption is -"

"No, no," Lucy cut in, offering a reassuring smile. "You’re correct. That would be more up my street."

"Perfect." The woman smiled, her eyes twinkling. "You can follow me."

Lucy quickly got on her feet, leaving the red bar chair behind.

The woman led her through another corridor, these walls were also lined with exposed brick. As they reached a pair of dark red curtains, the woman held them open and Lucy was greeted with an even more enchanting room than before.

Or maybe it was just the fact that this room was for women only that made it feel so captivating. The space exuded a warm, inviting glow, with plush furnishings and soft, ambient lighting that made everything look almost dreamlike.

Lucy took in the scene with wide eyes, her earlier nerves beginning to ease as curiosity and excitement took over.

The room was mesmerizing, with a stage prominently set in the middle. As she looked around, she noticed four women on the stage. They weren’t exactly dancing like what was happening in the other room; two were just sitting and drinking something, but the two that caught Lucy’s eye were engaged in a more intimate display. Lucy felt a flush rise to her cheeks. She absently fidgeted with her collar, loosening it to help her breathe a bit easier.

“Señora?” The woman who had guided her in gently touched her arm.

Lucy turned back, her face warm. “Oh, sorry. I’m just feeling a bit hot,” she said, demonstratively removing her jacket.

The woman smiled understandingly. “I was just saying, if anything here makes you uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to let them know.”

Lucy blinked, a little taken aback. She couldn’t imagine those beautiful women being a bother at all. “Oh, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied awkwardly.

“Choose a seat,” the woman continued with a friendly smile. “And if you finish that iced tea, just let me know, and I’ll get you something - anything you like.”

Lucy felt a flush of embarrassment. Did she know it was iced tea? She chuckled nervously. “O-okay, thanks.”

The woman laughed softly. “We rarely serve alcohol here. We do have it for those who want it, but we often welcome athletes or models who don’t drink, but even otherwise, we don’t judge.” She reassured Lucy with a warm smile.

“Oh, great, I’m an athlete. Thanks,” Lucy said, her cheeks still tinged with color, assuring the woman she wasn’t just someone with an alcohol problem or something.

The woman’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. “I’d love to know more, but I’m not allowed to ask,” she said, holding up her hands playfully. “Have a great evening, beautiful.” She gave Lucy a wink before walking away.

Lucy watched her go, a hint of self-consciousness creeping in. Damn, I should’ve just owned the iced tea. I’m a professional athlete, damn it, why did I let myself feel so awkward? She sighed, feeling a bit unsettled.

The girls had now spotted her, all four pairs of eyes were trained on her. Lucy made her way to one of the chairs, forcing a smile as she went to take a seat, deliberately choosing a spot not too close to the platform. She draped her jacket over the backrest and surveyed the room.

The platform was only slightly raised, just below knee height, with a lower step running around its edge. In the center stood a plush red sofa and four poles were evenly spaced around it.

The room had a inviting, but over all very red, ambiance. Around the platform were chairs similar to the one Lucy was sitting in. Behind her was a wall lined with booths - small tables surrounded by benches. The lighting was soft and atmospheric, with a brighter spotlight focused on the center of the room, were the platform was.

As she glanced back at the platform, she noticed two of the women had begun dancing on the poles, those who had been touching each other earlier. Lucy’s attention was drawn to another set of curtains behind the platform. That was not the hallway she had came from right? She shifted her gaze, only to cringe slightly when she met the eyes of the woman who had guided her in. Damn, why is this so awkward? she thought.

The woman gave a reassuring nod, and Lucy forced a smile in return before turning her attention back to the platform.

A moment later, a woman approached her. “Eres tan hermosa, primera vez aquí, no te reconozco,” she said, her voice soft and inviting.

“Uh, l-lo siento, soy i-inglés,” Lucy replied, feeling flustered. “I mean, I can understand, pero no hablar muy bien. But yes, first time.”

The woman smiled warmly. “You’re pretty,” she said as she moved behind Lucy, her fingers lightly tracing along Lucy’s arm before resting gently on her shoulders. She leaned in, whispering against Lucy’s ear, which made her shiver. “Would you like a little show?”

Lucy nodded, her eyes drawn to the girl still lounging on the red sofa. She found her to be the most captivating of the four, though all were undeniably beautiful.

“Yeah, that would be -”

“Perfect,” the woman interrupted with a mischievous smile. “We’ve been dying for some audience.”

Lucy’s attention was drawn to the girl lounging on the red sofa. As if she sensed Lucy's gaze, the girl stretched languidly, her movements effortlessly graceful. The dim lighting bathed her figure in a soft glow, accentuating her features and adding a sensual allure to the scene. She was really pretty.

Meanwhile, the girl who had approached Lucy earlier had selected a new track - something with a more seductive rhythm than the background music that had been playing before. Lucy’s eyes darted between this change in atmosphere and the girl now rising from the sofa with a confident, almost mischievous smile.

The dancer approached the pole closest to Lucy with deliberate, measured steps. While the other three women continued their synchronized dance around their poles, Lucy found herself completely captivated by the girl who had drawn her in from the start.

With an almost hypnotic grace, the girl returned to the sofa, her body swaying to the rhythm in a way that was captivating, truly. She traced her fingers along the plush red fabric, creating a tantalizing scene. The background music seemed to fade away for Lucy, leaving her entire focus fixed on the dark blond-haired dancer.

The girl’s performance was a seamless blend of elegance and sensuality. Her movements were fluid and confident, a blend of seductive dance and playful tease.

Occasionally, her gaze met Lucy’s, each glance filled with a promise that was both alluring and mysterious.

The dancer’s use of the poles were masterful, their bodies contorting in ways that was mesmerizing and purely art, if Lucy could give her opinion about it.

All four of them could dance, but as Lucy tried to focus on it all she couldn’t help herself staring at the brown eyed girl.

The performance was captivating, drawing Lucy deeper into the fantasy of the evening.

As the show progressed, the girl’s movements grew more passionate and intense. Lucy watched, entranced, as the boundaries between reality and fantasy seemed to dissolve, the room around her fading into insignificance. It felt like she had walked right in to a Hollywood filmset.

When the performance reached its climax, the girl struck a final pose. Instinctively, Lucy placed her glass on the table beside her and clapped, genuinely impressed.

Wow, she thought. Just for this private show, it was worth it. Damn, these girls are fucking amazing. She found herself wondering if it was okay to think of them in an objectifying way. Regardless, she couldn’t deny the sheer amazement of the experience.

The girls gathered together, their giggles filling the room. “Thank you, thank you,” they chimed with an adorable accent, clearly pleased with her applause. They made a playful bow.

Lucy’s gaze fell on the shorter girl again, who was now smiling directly at her. As the four of them stood together, it was evident that she was the shortest. She smiled at Lucy, then turned to her companions, and they began to speak rapidly in Spanish. Lucy tried to follow their conversation.

“Está claro que le gusta Ona,” one of them said.

“No podemos ir todos juntos?” another replied.

“María!”

“Bueno, pfft, Ona te la llevas.”

Lucy caught a few words and felt a thrill of excitement. Were they discussing her? Did she understand correctly - they were deciding who would be with her? The thought made her feel giddy. She really hoped the shorter girl was called Ona.

Jeez, she thought. Was she really thinking about this like that?

To her surprise, it was indeed the shorter girl who approached her. Lucy straightened in her chair, her curiosity piqued.

"Hola, hermosa," the girl said confidently, her voice carrying a hint of playful seduction. "Can I take a seat?"

Lucy glanced around, momentarily flustered. Her heart raced as she processed the unexpected request. Her initial thought was, In my lap? Really? It felt like something out of a fantasy or a cliché.

Unsure of how to accept with words, she simply nodded, her cheeks warming slightly.

With elegant movement, Ona settled into Lucy's lap. As she adjusted Lucy's collar, straightening it, she said, "The other girls think you’re interested in me."

Lucy’s heart raced. So, this was Ona.

"Is that true?" Ona whispered, her breath warm against Lucy's ear. "Would you like to come with me?"

Lucy glanced back at the platform. The other dancers had returned to the sofa, lost in their own interactions. "Mhm, I think you’re a very good dancer," Lucy said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Ona’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. "Follow me, preciosa." With a charming smile, she stood up and beckoned Lucy to follow her. Her tight braid swinging back and forth as she turned.

Lucy quickly grabbed her jacket and hurried after Ona, her excitement growing as she moved toward the curtain. Only at the curtain she realized she had left her glass behind.

Ah, fuck that iced tea, Lucy thought, amused with herself, as her gaze lingered on the woman’s miniskirt, which left little to the imagination. She couldn’t help but wonder what was hidden underneath. Bronze! she scolded herself internally. Get a grip - don’t be a creep.

“This is -” the woman began, but then paused, turning around.

Lucy quickly snapped her gaze back up to meet the woman’s eyes. Shit, caught.

The woman chuckled mischievously. “Like what you see?”

Lucy nodded, feeling like a teenager caught doing something naughty. God, why is everything going so terribly rough?

“This is my room,” the woman continued, starting over with a smile. “After you.”

Lucy stepped through the door as Ona held it open. “Thank you, Ona,” she said, taking in the spacious room. A bed with red sheets dominated the space, and a large, perfectly fitted closet lined one wall.

As she looked around, she realized Ona hadn’t followed her in. The woman was still standing in the doorway, her expression suddenly serious.

“How do you know my name?” Ona asked, her tone stern.

Lucy looked at her, confused. “Oh ehrm, the girls- they were-” she stammered, pointing back towards the main room.

“You heard?” Ona’s expression shifted to something more mischievous. “How much did you hear?”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “I don’t know, not much. They said Ona was going with me?” she offered hesitantly.

Ona smiled and finally stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “Okay then, Ona it is. But I’d like to know your name too then.”

“Of course,” Lucy said, draping her jacket over her left arm. “Lucy.” She extended her hand.

Ona chuckled, taking Lucy’s hand and bringing it to her lips to place a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Very formal, huh? Nice to meet you, Miss Lucy.”

Lucy nodded, feeling a bit flustered. “Y-yeah, nice to meet you too.”

The room here had the same kind of music playing as the other room, only quieter.

“So… do you work here?” Lucy asked, breaking the silence, as Ona moved further into the room, which felt like a luxurious hotel suite. Probably not the best conversation starter, Lucy thought, biting her lip.

Ona’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Work?” She laughed softly. “No, baby, I do this because I love it.”

Lucy frowned. “So you don’t get paid?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

“This is a private club for attractive people, by attractive people,” Ona explained matter-of-factly. “I understand you are someone who likes to know the details.” She chuckled. “When you get invited here, it’s by someone who’s been a member for a while and earned the privilege of handing out a card. It’s a pretty big deal to receive one,” she smiled. “Being a member is free; we call it ‘pretty privilege.’ But most members make donations. I also get a cut from those donations, and sometimes people make a specific donation just for me. When that happens, I get it all.” She sat down on a leather couch and leaned back, eyes locked on Lucy’s. “I’m under contract with this place,” she continued with a smile, “so what you said is probably true. But I prefer to see it as an arrangement that lets me live out my life’s passion.”

Lucy nodded, captivated by Ona’s every word. “What is it?” she asked, genuinely intrigued.

Ona grinned, a flicker of mischief in her eyes. "Well, it goes hand in hand with Elixír Oculto’s motto - helping people experience a magical evening. But my personal passion is making dreams come true, even the ones you never knew you had."

"Wow," Lucy murmured, letting the words sink in. Achieving every dream you have, even the ones you’ve never thought of before. It was poetic, inspirational.

“Don’t be afraid to take a seat, cariño,” Ona’s voice was soft but commanding, her smile so hypnotic that it made Lucy’s heart skip a beat. Those dimples, perfect teeth and scattered freckles. They could tell her this woman was send right from heaven and Lucy would believe them.

Lucy nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and settled into the leather chair half-facing Ona. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her. God, this girl was stunning.

Ona’s grin widened, her amusement clear. “Afraid I bite? I mean, I won’t… not just yet.” Her chuckle was warm as she patted the spot beside her on the couch. “Come closer, hermosa.”

Swallowing, Lucy stood up, leaving her jacket draped over the chair. She moved to sit beside the Catalan, nerves dancing along her skin. She fidgeted, scratching at her wrist in an attempt to calm herself.

Ona noticed and gently took Lucy’s hand, her touch soft and reassuring. “Don’t be so nerviosa, beautiful,” she whispered, tracing the inked skin on Lucy’s wrist. “You’ll hurt your pretty tattoo.”

Lucy glanced down at their intertwined hands, then back up at Ona.

“Show it to me,” Ona said, nodding toward the tattoo.

Without hesitation, Lucy unbuttoned her sleeve and rolled it up, revealing the intricate design she was so proud of.

Ona’s fingers lightly traced the ink, her touch sending a shiver down Lucy’s spine. “English, with a tattoo that says família?” she teased, a playful lilt in her voice. “Estás segura de que no hablas español? Did you just say it so you could eavesdrop?” She chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Or did you just have a bad tattoo artist?”

Lucy laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, I’m half Portuguese… but I don’t speak it that well either, to be honest.”

“Hmm,” Ona mused, her fingers still lingering on the tattoo. “Okay then, what brought you to Spain?”

Lucy smiled, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. “I worked here, but now I’m heading back to England. It’s been amazing working in Barça, and I wanted to end my time here with something special. I was invited here by a photographer from work. He thought I’d enjoy this place. Guess I owe him a thank you.”

“Hmm, okay,” Ona said, catching the subtle compliment with a knowing smile. “So, you’re a model?”

Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. “Not really. I guess I am sometimes, but it comes with my real job - I’m an athlete.”

Ona’s interest piqued as she shifted, settling onto Lucy’s right thigh, her legs resting between Lucy’s. “Really, what sport?”

"Guess," Lucy replied with a playful smirk, finally enjoying a moment of being the one in control.

Ona’s finger traced lines on Lucy’s muscular upper chest, down to her shoulder and bicep. “Hmm, the muscles make me think something like.. rugby,” she contemplated. “But I’m not sure.”

Lucy chuckled. “It can feel like that sometimes, but no - it’s football. I played for Barça.”

Ona’s eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of amazement slipping through her composed exterior.

“And what was the shoot for? The one where you got the invitation?” Ona asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Underwear,” Lucy admitted, feeling a bit awkward as she wasn’t supposed to reveal it yet.

“Hmm,” Ona grinned, her finger now tracing the buttons on Lucy’s blouse. “Now I’m curious what the photographer saw when he gave you that card.”

Lucy’s breath hitched as Ona began undoing the buttons. “Is this okay, bonita? Can I?”

Lucy nodded eagerly, her thoughts screaming for Ona to take it all off, right then and there.

Ona smirked as she revealed Lucy’s rock-solid abs. “Was it a Calvin Klein shoot?” she asked, eyeing the matching bra and the sliver of fabric peeking out from above Lucy’s pants.

“Uhm,” Lucy grimaced. “I signed a confidentiality agreement… I’m not supposed to -”

“My lips are sealed,” Ona assured, miming locking her mouth and tossing away the key. “But I will enjoy the photos if I ever come across them.” She winked cheekily and continued tracing her fingers over Lucy’s exposed skin, the touch light and teasing.

Lucy’s breath hitched again as Ona’s hands slipped beneath her blouse, sliding it off her shoulders with that same practiced ease. Quickly, Lucy undid the last button on her sleeve, leaning forward to help Ona remove the blouse completely.

Ona chuckled softly at Lucy’s eagerness, enjoying the way Lucy seemed to hang on every moment. As their faces drew closer, Lucy’s gaze locked onto Ona’s lips, her desire surging as she leaned in for a kiss. But just as their lips brushed, Ona pulled back with a playful chuckle.

"I can tell you’re used to being the one in control," Ona teased, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Lucy blushed, the rejection making her feel suddenly shy again.

"But it doesn’t work like that here," Ona continued with a grin. "Well, it can, but that privilege has to be earned."

Lucy nodded, feeling a bit uncertain.

Ona smiled warmly, placing Lucy’s hand on her knee. "Oh, come on baby, don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong - it’s just one of the rules," she explained, her thumb brushing across Lucy’s bottom lip. "You can kiss me anywhere except on my mouth," she added, cupping Lucy’s cheek. "I’ll teach you all the rules along the way, hm?"

Swallowing, Lucy nodded again, her nerves settling slightly.

Ona chuckled softly. "You haven’t bitten your tongue, have you?"

Lucy shook her head. "No, I understand."

A knowing smile curved Ona’s lips. "You’re so eager to please, aren’t you?"

Lucy’s cheeks flushed.

“Kiss my neck querida.”

Lucy hesitated for a moment, glancing at Ona, who was comfortably seated on her lap, her neck now tilted to one side, invitingly exposed.

Leaning in, Lucy let her lips brush softly against the warm skin, savoring its softness and the intoxicating scent. God, her skin was so soft, and damn, did she smell good.

Encouraged by Ona’s subtle cues, Lucy began to place delicate kisses along her neck, listening intently for any sign of pleasure she was bringing. When Ona tilted her head back, giving her more space, Lucy grew bolder. She added a teasing flick of her tongue, a gentle scrape of her teeth, her breath warm against the damp trail she left behind.

Ona chuckled as she felt Lucy getting lost in the moment.

Lucy pulled back slightly, curious about the reason of Ona’s amusement.

"I can already tell this will be a great night," Ona murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You’re doing very well so far."

A wave of confidence washed over Lucy at the compliment, and she smiled, feeling more at ease. Ona stood up, and Lucy’s eyes trailed her every move, captivated by her grace. God, she was stunning. Clad in leather boots with a heel, a miniskirt, and a little top. Ona didn’t wear much already, but Lucy couldn’t help but imagine her wearing even less.

Ona moved to one of the closet doors, her back to Lucy as she opened it. Lucy couldn’t see what was inside, but her heart raced when Ona returned holding a leather rod with a small feather at the end, bundled with little strings of leather. Was she going to get hit?

But instead of using the rod, Ona casually walked to the kitchenette and opened the mini-fridge. She retrieved a bottle of water and poured two glasses, adding a few ice cubes to each. Returning to Lucy, she placed the rod on the coffee table and handed her one of the glasses.

“Water,” she said simply, taking a sip from her own glass.

Lucy awkwardly accepted the glass and took a sip, trying to calm her nerves.

“How can we get you relaxed, amor?” Ona asked, settling herself onto one of Lucy’s legs again. “You’re so tense.” Her fingers traced lazy patterns on Lucy’s skin. “What’s making you so nervous?” She leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Lucy’s jaw. “Is it because you’re letting go of control for once?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “It can be amazing, hermosa,” she assured, placing another kiss just below Lucy’s ear. “I know you can be so good for me, hm? Just let me take control.”

Lucy swallowed hard and nodded, “Y-yeah,  i-it's just... new.”

Ona pulled back slightly, studying Lucy’s face. “New? Completely new? You’ve never…?”

Lucy chuckled, her nerves easing just a bit. “Oh no, I don’t mean that… I mean having sex with someone in a setting like this.”

“Sex?” Ona’s voice was serious, her tone unreadable.

Lucy’s heart plummeted. Had she completely misread the situation? But just as panic set in, Ona’s lips curved into a mischievous grin.

“I’m jokingggg,” she giggled, leaning against Lucy. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” She cupped Lucy’s face gently. “You should’ve seen your face.”

Lucy exhaled shakily, trying to regain her composure.

Ona took the glass from her and set it beside her own on the coffee table. Then, she shifted her position, straddling both of Lucy’s legs, her knees planted firmly on either side. She pushed Lucy’s hair behind her ears “Sorry I teased you, sometimes I can’t control myself.”

She smiled as Lucy stayed silent, “You’re okay, Lucy. Don’t beat yourself up. It’s good that you said this is your first time. We can talk everything through as we go.”

Lucy hesitated, then lifted her hands, which had been resting awkwardly at her sides. She was eager to touch Ona, but unsure of the boundaries. “Can I…?” she asked, her voice trailing off as she tried to figure out how to navigate this.

Ona’s eyes sparkled with amusement at Lucy’s sudden eagerness. “Yes, you can put your hands on me if you like,” she said, smiling. “Good job for asking first.”

Lucy’s smile widened, relieved that she’d finally done something right. No, she reminded herself, she’d done well with the kisses too - she shouldn’t be so insecure. Her heart pounded as she gently placed her hands on the warm, bare skin of Ona’s thighs, feeling the smoothness beneath her fingertips.

Ona subtly grinded on Lucy’s lap, tracing a finger from her chest to the tip of her chin, ‘’are you going to let me have some fun with you, let me play with you?’’.

Lucy hung on every word, every movement the beautiful woman made. There was no question in her mind - she would do anything Ona asked. She nodded eagerly, her wide eyes full of obedient anticipation as they locked onto Ona’s.

Ona’s thumb once again grazed Lucy’s bottom lip, letting it pop gently a couple of times. She smiled, her mind already dancing with thoughts of the fun to come. “Soy la maestra tonight, sí?”

Lucy nodded again, her thoughts a swirl of sí, por favor, and gracias, already unable to think straight.

“Claro?” Ona repeated, her voice firm yet playful. “Because if you understand, I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-yes, claramente,” Lucy stammered, throwing in a bit of Spanish out of sheer confusion.

Ona’s grin widened. “Ah, perfecto. But next time, I want to hear, ‘Sí, maestra,’ okay?”

“Sí, maestra,” Lucy echoed, her voice certain this time.

"Good girl," Ona purred, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Let’s see if you can keep that up." and stood up, taking the rod with her ‘’follow me’’.

Lucy followed her closely, Ona took place on the bed.

‘’On you knees hermosa’’. She ordered, leaving space between her legs.

Lucy swallowed, her heart racing, so this was it, it was happening. She knelt down, her hair falling infront of her face like a curtain, quickly she put her hair up.

She looked up, meeting Ona’s smile, ‘’well prepared’’ she said pleased.

Ona put her foot up and pushed Lucy’s shoulder with it, ‘’take these off’’.

“Sí, maestra,” Lucy said, her gaze already have drifted off to Ona’s legs, with her leg up like this a glimpse of dark red, laced underwear was revealed.

‘’Querida’’ Ona said sternly, ‘’you are not getting distracted, are you?’’.

“N-no,” Lucy licked her lips unconsciously, but pulled herself together, biting her lip ‘’uhm, no, maestra,”.

Ona pushed the sole of her leather boot a little deeper into the skin of Lucy’s shoulder.

Lucy got the hint and pulled the zipper down to take her left boot off, then she reached for the other.

After that she eagerly waited on the next command.

 Ona spread her legs further.

Lucy didn't have a second thought about the fact that she was staring now, she was just admiring the view provided.

Ona noticed her looking, her smile turned into a grin, ‘’you are looking at me with hungry eyes’’ she chuckled.

Lucy briefly looked up, wondering whether that was something positive in Ona’s opinion.

‘’Well’’ Ona said, standing up ‘’do you want a taste?’’.

Lucy scooted back slightly, giving herself some space as her face was almost pressed against Ona, who had just stood up. “Sí, maestra,” she nodded eagerly, “please.”

“So well behaved,” Ona said, tipping Lucy’s chin up with her finger. “It’s almost boring. Are you a little boring, Lucia?” she teased, “But I don’t believe you’re all that innocent. Are you?”

“No, maestra.”

“Tell me what you want.”

Lucy blushed, she could think of a lot of things. ‘’u-uhm.. a.. taste then?’’.

Ona chuckled, ‘’oh my sweet puppet’’ she brushed her fingers through Lucy’s hair, ‘’how could I deny when you are being such a pretty obedient toy for me’’.

She swallowed, ‘’can I?’’ Lucy asked as she reached up to hook her fingers in the band of Ona’s skirt.

‘’Sí.’’

Lucy took the skirt and thongs off all at once, maybe by accident, maybe not. But she was just going to rock with it.

Now she was face-to-face, no scratch that, face-to-lips, with Ona’s heath. She looked up, ‘’can I maestra?’’.

Ona melted, she hadn’t expected the woman who carried herself so.. confident.. to be such an easy submissive.. but if she was honest she missed a bit of resist. ‘’No.’’

Lucy backed up, confused. No? Why not. ‘’w-why.. maestra?’’.

A soft chuckle escaped Ona’s lips. “Because, preciosa, I want to be in my comfortable chair.” She reached for the leather rod again, her tone playful but commanding. “And you will follow me like the good pet you are.”

Lucy instinctively moved to stand, but the gentle press of the leather rod against her shoulder stopped her.

“Hands and knees, hermosa. Come.”

There was a brief hesitation - was she really going to do this? But the light, insistent tap of the rod on her skin urged her forward. Lucy met Ona’s gaze, then slowly bent down, beginning to crawl toward the couch.

A light thump landed on her still-covered ass, prompting her to glance back at Ona.

“Too slow,” Ona teased. “I thought you were an athlete.”

Lucy gave a slight nod, quickening her pace as she continued to crawl.

Ona easily overtook her, settling into the leather chair with a languid grace, her legs spread invitingly. “Come, cariño. Your reward is waiting.”

Finally, Lucy reached Ona, her heart pounding with anticipation. She had been waiting for this moment ever since she decided to step into the speakeasy. Now, seeing Ona up close, a girl even more captivating than she had imagined, the desire was almost too much to handle.

It felt strange to be in this position - usually, she was the one in control. But giving up control felt natural with the way Ona guided her. From the moment she had entered the room, she knew this was what she wanted, she’d do whatever the Catalan would ask.

‘’You see what mess you created?’’ Ona asked rhetorical, ‘’clean it up’’. She said pointing at Lucy with the whip she was still holding.

Lucy nodded and wanted to lean forward but was restricted by the rod poking against her collarbone.

‘’Manners hermosa’’. Ona said looking at Lucy with a grin, the girl was locked-in on her center like it was going to walk away if she blinked.

 Without looking up Lucy answered, ‘’sí, sorry maestra… please let me clean you up maestra’’.

‘’mhm, go on’’.

She leaned in, her focus on Ona’s thighs. Lucy knew she had talent and wanted to show Ona she wasn’t just another amateur, she wanted to be the best.

As she placed her hands on Ona’s inner thighs and moved closer to her wet core, she was met with a corrective tap, prompting her to pull her hands back.

On her hands and knees, Lucy lapped at Ona’s wetness, she groaned of pleasure as she tasted the girl. Damn, Ona didn’t just look incredible, she tasted amazing too - subtly sweet with a hint of something more. God, had she missed tasting a woman. But Lucy tried not to lose herself and alternated between kisses and teasing licks, deliberately avoiding Ona’s clit, waiting for her to guide her next move.

Ona considered her options. She wanted to savor the moment with this stunning woman but she also wanted to climax. She could come multiple times.. so.. she could play with the woman some more later right? After all, Lucy was an athlete - she likely had stamina for days.

Ona buried her hand in the brown hair of the kneeling woman, guiding her. "Show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do, belleza." Her voice remained steady and composed.

It didn’t take long for Ona’s resolve to waver. She couldn’t stifle her moan as Lucy’s skillful tongue worked its magic. Ona’s fingers dug deeper into the roots of Lucy’s hair, pulling just enough to keep her in place while still allowing some movement. Ona’s smile widened smugly as she felt Lucy’s moans vibrating against her core. Oh! this girl liked it a little rough.

Ona couldn’t deny it, this woman knew exactly how to use her mouth. She was enjoying this a lot, and if Lucy kept it up, she might even crack the top ten of women Ona had been with. The soft, eager whimpers coming from between her legs only fueled Ona’s arousal. The idea of a woman not just enjoying, but worshipping her body always got to her. God, Ona realized, she wouldn’t last much longer.

Lucy was lost in her own world between the strong thighs of the Catalan woman, oblivious to the moans she was drawing out as she brought Ona closer and closer to the edge. She only heard her own soft moans, and felt them echoing against the warm, wet skin. And fuck was she drunk on the taste of Ona’s arousal.

Lucy didn’t even notice the trembling legs squeezing her head until she was yanked back, forcing her to look up.

Ona grinned down at her, meeting the two dazed eyes staring back, looking at her with the most adoring eyes, like she was an actual goddess. It would’ve been almost adorable if not for the setting.

"That’s enough for now, my pretty mascota," Ona said, her voice playful but firm. "Come, help me up." She extended her hand.

Lucy rose to her feet and pulled Ona up with her.

The rod that had fallen beside the chair was forgotten for now - they were going to search out some new things anyways.

"Get undressed, my little muñeca follable," Ona whispered as she passed the slightly taller woman.

She made her way to the closet, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. This was one of her most prized possessions. Behind the doors, red velvet panels framed an array of black hooks and pins, displaying her collection of toys like weapons in a high-end gun shop.

As she opened the lengthy wooden doors, the little spotlights shot on and highlighted her collection of tools.

She turned around to the awkward but endearing sight of Lucy struggling to step out of her pants. Sensing Ona’s gaze, Lucy blushed, quickly discarding them and standing there in just her white boxers.

Mhmm, Ona's mouth watered at the sight. Lucy’s muscular, athletic build was a masterpiece, her tanned skin in contrast against the white fabric. The only thing she wore on her torso now was a simple gold chain, gleaming against her skin. In a different setting, Ona would have gladly let this piece of eye candy ruin her completely, or maybe, she'd allow that later.

Ona grinned as her eyes lingered on Lucy’s tight ass, the white briefs stretching across it as she bent briefly to place her glasses and rings on the coffee table. Hmm, that toned ass could only belong to someone well-familiar with working a strap. She blinked and chuckled, snapping herself out of her daydream. She couldn’t let herself get too distracted.

Lucy looked at the laughing woman and walked back toward her, eyes innocent and questioning.

Ona grinned. "You look so good-

Oh. Lucy blushed, caught off guard by the compliment, though pleased that Ona thought so. She knew her abs got plenty of attention from women, but it still felt good to hear it.

-I can’t wait to ruin you."

Lucy blinked, her steps faltering just before she reached Ona. The soft, promising tone in her voice sent a wave of heat through her body. Would she let her ruin her? No doubt about it. She’d let Ona ruin her and say thank you afterwards.

Ona chuckled. "Come on, don’t get shy again. You can choose a few things you'd like."

It was only then that Lucy’s gaze shifted to the two open doors or rather what had been hidden behind them. Her eyes widened at the sight of the array of sex toys on display. She’d never seen so many gathered in one place before, well, except for the couple of times she had visited an adult store.

Ona stepped back slightly, inviting Lucy to take a closer look.

Mesmerized, Lucy moved closer but hesitated as her hand reached out. She realized she probably shouldn’t touch everything.

Ona opened another door to reveal a selection of harnesses in various colors and materials: brown, black. Her gaze fell on a dark red one, her favorite. She took it and slipped it on, savoring the familiar feeling against her skin.

Turning back to Lucy, who stood there in awe, Ona couldn’t help but grin.

She positioned herself behind Lucy, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her harness-clad hips against the woman’s ass. She reached around and pointed at several straps, displayed from small to large. “Which one will I be wearing?” she whispered, brushing her lips against Lucy’s neck.

“Uhm…”

Ona gently bit down, a teasing nip. If she was right, this woman wasn’t shy about a bit of pleasurable pain. Her suspicions were confirmed when a soft, whiny gasp escaped Lucy’s throat. Mhm, this was going to be so much fun.

Ona reached around Lucy, cupping her perky breasts and teasing her already hardened nipples between her fingers.

Lucy’s vision blurred from the overwhelming sensations of Ona’s presence. Her hips pressed against her back, her teeth sinking into her neck and the way her nipples were being twisted. A moan escaped Lucy as electric shocks shot straight to her core. She tried to bring her hands up to cover Ona’s, keeping her close, but suddenly, everything was gone.

Blinking, Lucy saw Ona now standing beside her, gazing at the array of toys. “Choose, mi juguete. What will you let me play with?”

Lucy wanted to shout, Me! With me! but held her silence. Instead, she focused on the toys, deliberately considering her options. She wasn’t shy about receiving a strap, it was something she had enjoyed in relationships, though less so with casual encounters. But she certainly had nothing against it, especially this beauty, she could do what ever she wanted.

She reached out for a strap of a manageable size, glancing at Ona before touching it. Ona gave a smug smile, raising her eyebrows. “I’m guessing you have some experience?”

Lucy nodded, blushing as she recalled not only her experiences with other women but also her solo adventures. She handed the strap to Ona while keeping her gaze fixed on the endless lines of toys.

Her attention then shifted to a collection of butt plugs. Only recently had she started exploring these, and although she had never used them in front of someone else, the orgasms they provided were incredible.

"Ahh," Ona cheered, surprised by Lucy’s interest. "I wouldn’t have picked you as someone gustan las cosas por el culo." She let her hand brush over Lucy’s muscular ass before giving it a playful squeeze. "Well, choose one, hermosa."

Stepping closer, Ona reached for a decently sized plug with a bit of texture. "I recommend this one," she whispered.

Lucy shivered as goosebumps trailed down her spine. She took the plug silently, rolling it between her fingers, her body already reacting. God, she was so worked up. She was aching with desire, feeling a firm pulsation between her legs.

Ona surveyed the array of equipment for restraining and gagging, including her favorite, the gag ball. However, she had a feeling she’d enjoy the sounds Lucy would make even more. She put the strap on and took one of the whips from a pin, the whip was red with black. Matching perfectly with her. She was wearing a red harness with a black strap and she was still wearing her red top. Then she look a black vibrator, or her magic wand, how she liked to call it.

‘’satisfied?’’. Ona asked, she thought they could start easy as this was their first encounter after all, even though she found Lucy and her working together pretty good.

Lucy looked up, turning to Ona in surprise. Wtf? Satisfied, no she was not satisfied at all, she was dyeing-

‘’chose the toys you like?’’. Ona added, clarifying herself.

Ohhh. Lucy nodded, ‘’yes’’.

Ona chuckled mischievously, almost sadistic. ‘’Manners cariño, manners.’’ She shook her head sarcastically, ‘’oh oh,’’ she stepped closer, driving Lucy against the wooden door, ‘’it’s a shame I have to punish you now’’ she grinned as she saw Lucy swallow hard, but her eyes told Ona she didn’t mind this at all, ‘’you want to be punished?’’ she grinned.

Lucy blushed, remembering what she had to call Ona and anticipating on something that was definitely far from a punishment for her, ‘’S-Sí, maestra,’’

Ona chuckled, seeing the woman squirm against the wood, ‘’Beg me’’ she said, bringing her hand up to the woman’s neck, ‘’how bad do you want it?’’.

Lucy’s face flushed, her mouth suddenly dry, her lips still sticky from earlier. ‘’please maestra, p-punish me’’.

‘’Have you been bad?’’. Ona said, closing her hand around the thick neck.

‘’mhm’’ Lucy nodded, almost not being able to focus as Ona put a little pressure on her throat ‘’uh- yes.. maestra’’.

Ona grinned, ‘’desperate puta’’. She guided Lucy by her neck towards the bed, ‘’bend over, bend down on the bed like the puta sucia you are’’.

She released her grip.

Ona chuckled silently as Lucy almost face planted on the bed as she eagerly crawled on it.

She hovered behind her, letting her fingers graze over the ass that was sticking up in front of her. Sliding a finger under the elastic band of Lucy's boxers, she pulled it up before snapping it back against her skin. "And why is this still on?" she asked.

"You're not listening very well, are you? I told you to take it off," Ona said.

"Sí," Lucy mumbled as she got back up on her knees. "Sí, maestra, I-" She fumbled with the fabric, trying to shuffle it down her legs but struggling in the awkward position.

Ona pressed the whip against her shoulders. "Down. Leave it like that, if you're so desperate."

Her eyes were fixed on the impossibly slick lips of the woman bent down in front of her. She was a mess, the briefs she'd been wearing completely ruined.

Ona reached over Lucy, not bothering to keep the strap from pressing into her as she took the toy from her hands. Leaning over Lucy's back, Ona couldn’t help but admire the sculpted physique beneath her. This woman was clearly an athlete, but even among them, she was on the upper end of the scale. Broad, muscular shoulders and a body that was nothing short of stunning, it made perfect sense why the photographer had given her a card. She was captivating.

Letting her nails lightly graze down Lucy’s bare back, Ona whispered, “I think you deserve a little correction, don’t you?”

Lucy arched into the touch, her heated skin prickling in the cool air. “Mhm,” she murmured, biting down as Ona's hands kneaded her flesh. Every nerve in her body was on high alert, craving more of the touch she desperately needed.

Ona chuckled and leaned back, ‘’what was that hermosa?’’. She teasingly asked, letting the strands of leather travel along her back.

Lucy whimpered, ‘’si, maestra, I need-

Crack.

She arched as the whip landed firmly on her ass, she moaned into the bedsheets. Fuck.

Ona leaned down and kissed the spot that was now turning red, ‘’and what do you say now my toy? I gave you what you asked for’’. She said, amusement clear in her voice. She loved the way the woman seemed to enjoy this.

She bit down in the flesh of Lucy ass, as an answer stayed off, or maybe just because the skin looked so perfectly bitable, so tight, so round.

Lucy’s brain short-circuited. Was it.. thank you? Did Ona expect her to say thanks? ‘’Uh, t-thank you?’’ she said, a little unsure.

Crack.

‘’Thank you who, pretty?’’. Ona said, letting the leather strings of the whip tease over the sensitive prickling skin of Lucy’s ass after she landed another strike.

Lucy arched as she grabbed the sheet between her fists, whimpering from the impact. ‘’Thank you maestra!’’ she cried out.

‘’Very good beautiful.’’. She caressed Lucy’s ass, ‘’but you’re a bit of a messy girl, aren’t you?’’. Ona said as she changed the whip in her hand for the plug and swiped it along Lucy’s core. ‘’You are-’’ she chuckled as she saw Lucy’s body reacting to what she did, ‘’-a little wet muñeca, how come?’’.

Lucy breath shuttered as she felt the toy dipping between her lips, it was frustrating the way Ona teased her. ‘’You’’ Lucy groaned, ‘’Because of you maestra’’.

‘’Hmm.’’ Ona smirked, ‘’beautiful zorra, so eager, so wanting’’.

Lucy pussy tried to clutch on nothing but thin air at the dirty words Ona spoke. She stiffened as her cheeks were held and she felt Ona spit down on her asshole. God she felt dirty, but she enjoyed every bit of it.

A flat hand soothed her lower back, ‘’relax for me baby.’’ Ona cooed as she reached down to place soft kisses on Lucy’s cheeks. Lucy whimpered as Ona got lower and lower with her mouth, she wished the girl would eat her out, but Ona stayed away from her heath. Instead the plug was now circling her ring of muscle, teasingly waiting to enter.

With ease, Ona slid the toy inside, her smile widening as she watched a shiver run up Lucy’s spine. The girl let out a soft, almost grateful moan.

Stepping closer to the bed, Ona guided her strap through Lucy's wetness, teasing her mercilessly.

Lucy leaned back, desperate, aching for more, but Ona chuckled and stepped away. “Up. Come here,” she ordered, her voice firm.

It took Lucy a moment to process, her mind clouded with need, but she finally turned to look at Ona.

“Kneel for me, mi juguete,” Ona commanded, grinning as she watched Lucy’s dazed expression, her pupils blown wide. “You’ve made quite a mess.”

Lucy dropped to her knees in front of the Catalan without hesitation.

“Show me, princecita,” Ona murmured, cupping Lucy’s jaw. “Show me how pretty you look with your mouth full.”

Lucy swallowed hard - this was something new for her. She’d been on the other side plenty of times, the one wearing the strap, in control. But as Ona tapped the damp tip against her lips, she opened her mouth without hesitation.

Like a shameless slut, Lucy wrapped her lips around the plastic shaft, locking eyes with Ona as she did.

Ona could barely keep her composure. There was nothing quite like watching a strong, confident woman drop to her knees for her. She pulled back slightly, gripping the base of the strap as a string of saliva clung to it, then playfully tapped it against Lucy's cheek. Smiling wickedly, she murmured, "Imagine if people saw you like this, hm, the Lucy Bronze on her knees."

Lucy whimpered, all traces of shame long gone. She craved this, she needed it desperately. Her tongue flicked out, and she eagerly took it back into her mouth, determined to please Ona.

Lucy locked eyes with Ona as she took in as much of the length as she could.

Ona gently wiped away a tear that slipped down Lucy’s cheek. "Hmm, you've been so good," she murmured, stroking her jaw tenderly. "Now, stand up for me."

‘’Si maestra’’. Lucy stood up, watching intensively waiting for any other instructions. Hm, she wish she could take that top off of Ona.

She didn’t realize she was staring until Ona’s soft chuckle broke the silence. “You’re actually adorable,” Ona said with a smile, momentarily unable to hide her amusement. “What’s on your mind? Do you want to take my top off?”

Lucy blushed and looked up shyly. “Mhm, yes, you’re so pretty,” she replied softly.

Ona chuckled and drew Lucy closer by her hand. “Then take it off, bebé.”

With a smile and a racing heart, Lucy lifted her hands to remove Ona’s top. Ona raised her arms, and within moments, she was standing naked before Lucy, who also took the opportunity to finally kick off the briefs that had been dangling around her knees.

In awe, Lucy let her hands explore Ona’s bare torso, beginning at her sides and gradually moving up to her chest. She gazed at Ona with a mixture of anticipation and admiration.

Ona, rolling her eyes with a playful smile, asked, “What is it you want to say?”

Lucy hesitated, her eyes drifting to her hands. “U-uhm, can I?” she stammered.

“What is it, baby?” Ona tilted her chin up, encouraging her. “Tell me what you want.”

“Kiss them,” Lucy replied, her voice almost dreamy.

“Of course, pequeña,” Ona replied with a chuckle, charmed by Lucy’s timidity. Most athletes were quite full of themselves and self-absorbed, but this girl only seemed to have eyes for her. From the moment their gazes had locked at the beginning of this evening, she had been the sole focus of Lucy’s attention. It was cute.

Lucy surprised her by leaning down, starting with soft kisses at her belly button, and slowly working her way up. Between each kiss, their eyes met, intensifying the moment.

Ona’s chest rose and fell as Lucy moved closer to her nipples. Damn, this woman knew exactly how to affect her. A groan escaped as Ona’s head fell back, surrendering to Lucy’s touch.

Ona snapped back to reality as Lucy guided her toward the bed, trailing kisses along her neck until the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress.

Ona slid her hand into Lucy’s hair, gently pulling her away as she tutted softly and talked in a stern voice. "Not good, hermosa, not good." Stepping to the side, she added, "You’re too distracting. Get on the bed, bend over."

Ona chuckled, her voice teasing. "Trying to take the lead, hm?" she asked, reaching for the whip. "Oh, so you wanted more punishment?" she added sarcastically, as Lucy whimpered when the leather met her skin again.

"That's fine," Ona murmured, her breath warm as she grazed her teeth along Lucy’s neck. "Next time, just ask, mi juguete. I love playing with you." She let her lips trail down Lucy’s spine before standing up straight again.

Crack.

Lucy moaned into the mattress, her ass more sensitive than before after each hit. She braced herself for more, but the expected impact didn’t come. Instead, she felt Ona press up against her.

Ona reached for the vibrator and, with her arm around Lucy, gently slid it across her wetness until she felt Lucy start to buck her hips. She grinned as she turned on the device, keeping it at its lowest setting.

At the same time, she aligned herself with Lucy’s entrance, having slid the strap through her slick a few times to ensure it was well-lubricated. It was definitely wet enough, she had to make an effort to maintain control and prevent slipping inside just yet.

If the wetness pooling between Lucy’s legs didn’t make her arousal clear enough, her soft, breathy groans into the bedsheet left no doubt that she was ready.

Lucy moaned as Ona entered her in one fluent thrust, completely bottoming out, pressing against the plug that was still inside of her.

Ona started thrusting as she felt Lucy had gotten used to the way she filled her up, starting with slow languid thrusts as she held the vibrator in place.

Lucy struggled to focus on all the sensations overwhelming her. She felt euphoric yet whiny, caught in a paradox of feeling both overwhelmed and unsatisfied. She craved more.

She cried out as Ona thrust harder and more deliberately. Fuck she was incredible, Lucy thought as every movement hit just the right spot. But she quickly realized that this wasn’t entirely focused on her. As her own orgasm built, the swears and murmurs behind her revealed that Ona was also nearing her climax.

“I-” She moaned, cutting herself off as waves of pleasure surged through her. She collapsed onto her forearms, her face pressing into the bed as her thighs quivered. The intensity of her orgasm hitting her sooner than she had anticipated.

Ona bit her lip as she watched the wetness gushing down between their bodies. She let the vibrator fall onto the bed, leaving it running as she gripped Lucy's hips, desperately chasing her own release. She was so close. She shut her eyes tight, concentrating on her peak, thrusting just right so the base of the strap pressed firmly against her clit.

Lucy’s walls convulsed around the strap, having moved past the initial waves of overstimulation, and another orgasm was already building up.

At the same time they cried out, waves of pleasure rippling through their bodies at the same time, jerkily Ona rode out her orgasm until she pulled out and collapsed next to Lucy.

Lucy was in a complete daze, her vision blurred, heart pounding so loudly she could hear it echoing in her ears. A wave of pure bliss washed over her, and time felt meaningless.

She couldn’t tell if it had been seconds, minutes, or longer. Time seemed to blur in her hazy state. Slowly, Lucy became aware of the gentle buzzing against her belly. With fumbling hands, she reached down, trying to turn it off. Ona chuckled softly and took it from her, switching it off with ease.

Lucy let out a deep sigh. "That was… fucking amazing."

Ona turned to face her fully, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Glad you liked it."

"And you?" Lucy asked, her voice a bit breathless.

"Mhm." Ona leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Lucy’s cheek. "Very good."

Lucy smiled, rolling onto her back, stretching out as contentment washed over her. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this satisfied before. As she sensed Ona moving beside her, she cracked one eye open and was met with a playful smile.

Ona reached out, lazily tracing patterns on Lucy’s chest. "You tired already?" she teased, though there was a faint note of disappointment in her voice.

Lucy hummed, savoring a few more moments of bliss before sitting up slightly. "Why?"

Ona chuckled, that familiar mischievous glint returning to her eyes. The athleticism was always a plus, models tended to tire too quickly for her liking. "Want to wear a strap? I think you’ve earned it." She smirked, already imagining how Lucy would womanhandle her, or perhaps she could ride her, propped up against those irresistible abs.

A slow smile spread across Lucy’s face. Oh, she definitely wanted to wear a strap. "Yeah," she replied, "I’d like that."

"Perfect," Ona said with a grin, standing up with the kind of ease that made it seem like she was just starting her day, full of fresh energy.

Lucy could feel her own energy gradually returning. As Ona removed her harness, letting it fall to the floor with the strap still attached. Lucy stepped towards her, removing the plug and laying it beside the discarded strap.

Ona didn’t seem to notice, already preoccupied with scanning her closet. Without looking up, she handed Lucy a harness, her mind focused on choosing the right strap.

With practiced ease, Lucy slipped into the harness, already feeling the familiar stir of excitement building again.

Ona turned to her with a grin, handing over the strap and a small bottle of lube.

Lucy raised an eyebrow as she took it. This girl was definitely experienced, but the size of the strap was... pretty big. She couldn’t help but smirk, though she kept any comment to herself.

It was a shame Lucy wasn’t allowed to kiss her, especially now. Ona looked so damn cute biting her bottom lip, intently watching her secure the strap. Truly a shame.

Unable to resist, Lucy leaned in, kissing the soft skin of her neck with eager lips. They stumbled into the wooden door, and Lucy caught Ona just before she could crash into it too hard, pausing her movements.

Their eyes met, Ona’s filled with undeniable lust. Lucy smirked. This girl truly had a passion, no doubt about that.

Lucy lifted Ona, carrying her toward the nearest wall, to not to let Ona’s back press against the rough wood.

Ona chuckled at how effortlessly the girl carried her. Cupping Lucy's face she pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before trailing her lips down to her neck, playfully returning the favor with a few teasing bites mixed in.

She paused, however, when Lucy pressed the lubed strap against her, a low groan escaping her lips as Lucy began to grind her hips. Held securely against the wall, Ona could feel the firm grip of Lucy's big hands on her ass, grounding her.

Her jaw went slack as Lucy slowly entered her, guiding her down onto the rubber strap. God, she loved the feeling of being filled like this.

Ona reached for Lucy’s hair, fingers tangling just above the nape of her neck, giving it a firm tug. Lucy groaned in response, but it didn’t slow her rhythm. Instead, she leaned in closer, her lips finding Ona’s neck once more, resuming her trail of eager kisses.

Lucy felt the urge to give Ona more, to feel even closer, the desire to kiss more of her skin was overwhelming. With that thought, she shifted, holding up Ona easily as she walked them towards the bed. Her movements slowed but remained deliberate, their connection never breaking even as she shuffled on to the bed.

Lucy eagerly latched onto Ona’s chest, her tongue tracing circles and lips sucking gently, every movement fueled by the soft sounds escaping the woman below her. Each moan spurred her on, her own thrusts becoming more insistent, matching the rhythm of Ona’s pleasure. Lucy’s focus was completely on her, reading every breath, every gasp, and responding with more intensity.

Ona groaned, a sudden idea flashing through her mind. She tugged Lucy up by the roots of her hair and, with a swift motion, rolled them both over. Lucy, caught off guard but intrigued, let it happen, eyes widening as she watched Ona straddle her waist. Instinctively, she tried to sit up, eager to continue her trail of kisses, but Ona gently pushed her back down, pinning her to the bed.

Without a word, Ona reached for the vibrator they'd used earlier, switching it on and positioning it against herself. As she began to ride Lucy, her left hand pressed firmly against Lucy’s toned stomach, steadying herself while she controlled the pace, her movements deliberate and intoxicating.

Ona's eyes squeezed shut, her breath hitching as she focused on the growing tension coiling in her core. The heat in her stomach tightened with every thrust, every brush of Lucy’s touch, pulling her closer and closer to the edge of release.

As Ona’s body faltered, Lucy’s hands tightened around her hips, steadying her movements. She continued to lift her up and down, her own hips rolling rhythmically beneath her, guiding Ona through every wave of pleasure.

With a satisfied hum, Ona eventually eased herself off Lucy and collapsed beside her, turning off the toy with a soft click. She exhaled deeply, sinking into the bed in contentment, her breathing gradually slowing.

Lucy rolled on her side to watch Ona, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Ona sighed and rolled her eyes, before turning to face her. "Lucy"

Lucy, still captivated by Ona’s beauty, smiled warmly. "Yes?"

Ona leaned closer, gently cupping Lucy’s face in her hands and squeezing her cheeks. "Hello."

Lucy chuckled, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Yes, hello. I already -"

"No," Ona interrupted, squeezing a bit harder. "I know that look. Put your brain back in gear for a moment."

Lucy blinked, momentarily confused. Her mind was engaged, or so she thought. Oh shit. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she might have been caught up in the moment more than she intended.

Ona's grip tightened slightly. "You’re not falling in love with me," she said firmly. "This was fun, but it's just an act. We're not running away together, we’re not getting married on an island, and you’re not buying me presents." She released Lucy’s face and gave a reassuring smile.

Lucy’s frown deepened as she processed Ona’s words. Wait, was I really - she thought shocked, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment washing over her.

"But this was great," Ona continued, her smile softening. "If you ever find yourself back in Barcelona and have time for a night of fun, just ask for Nova."

"Nova?" Lucy asked, still a bit flustered. "Oh, is that your stage name?"

Ona nodded, a playful glint in her eye. "Sí."

----the end-----

I hope you liked it, I have never written a song-fic and i went a little of track (litteraly lol).

sorry, this was... a lot 🙈

[cindol]

‘twas suppose to be a drabble . tagging @luvlyycy because I know they’ll enjoy this

sukuna ryomen x fem reader

cw + — highschool au , reader and sukuna are juniors, sukuna calls reader goldie as a nickname, naoya harasses reader and is misogynistic as usual, fluff,

“You should really be more nice ‘kuna. It would benefit you in the long run y’know.” sukuna was so zoned out, barely listening to you and only the sound of your shiny platform shoes hitting the tatami school floor.

You only had the best concerns for your friend sukuna. He was known as the bad kid in highschool, the troubled child at home. Always seen with a toothpick in his mouth and hands in his pockets with his school uniform collar undone.

That’s why it was such a strange dynamic when you hang out with sukuna and his crew when you had the proclaimed title as a golden girl, someone always helping the community and a vice president of the student body president club with nanami kento. But it was on brand for you, no matter how much nanami warned you of folks like toji and sukuna you had a need to always help out a hand, which lead to you befriending sukuna.

“It’s like a funny little equation y’know? Nice + no knocking into the sports guys in the hallways= good payoff!” you had such a cheerful chipper tone in your voice while saying this that it got a boisterous laugh from sukuna.

“Listen Goldie, that ain’t happening in the long run. Tempers too hot, and these sporty playboys work them to the max.”

This was gonna be a long process, you had your work cut out but still you were determined. You stopped in your tracks turning to sukuna when he halted also.“hm wellllllll… try? For me?” batting your wispy eyelashes at him to convince him that always made him listen.

See, he tried to listen and not get into fights but he can’t keep to that word when he saw you being picked on by the ass and misogynist of the school he had to jump in.

“Cmon, gotta give me a twirl if you want your little planner thingy.” As usual and on par for naoya he was harassing a woman and he picked you for this daily harassment today.

You weren’t haven’t it. Naoya didn’t scare you, he was just really really really annoying but you were gonna succumb to doing something for his need.

“I’m not your jester naoya, go find some other woman or I’ll—“

a petty laugh came from him.“ or you’ll what?”

Naoya couldn’t see it but you could see the tall shape of sukuna behind him and it made you grin.“or that.” your finger pointed to sukuna making naoya turn around and make a audible gulp till sukuna’s fist came in contact with his punchable face.

“Guess I’m in trouble for ‘not being nice’.” he put his last three words in quotes making you groan.

[ynbabe]

Fake texts au- pt.8 bffs with the rookies+ The Hangover

Lando being Lando with .jpg and Max and Charles are now involuntary babysitters

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lando.jpg

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Tagged: @/alex_albon @/arthur_leclerc @/logansargeant @/oscarpiastri @/its_y/n_love

lando.jpg "we will never drink again" just look at em lie

view all 10,874 comments

landonorris i dont even know how y/n is alive rn

logansargeant fr I don't even remember getting back to the horel its_y/n_love I DRAK TEQUILA FOR YOUR UNGRAEEFUL ASS SMH arthur_leclerc WHY AM I IN A SHOPING CAT??? oscarpiastri why are we sleeping on the road?

its_y/n_love damn slide 5 logsn stole my bikch 😥

oscarpiastri more importantly why am i little spoon? hello? logansargeant cause I'm built diffrnt 😤

maxverstappen Never get them near alcohol. ever again.

charlesleclerc atleast you didn't have to CLIMB UP A BUILDING TO GET ARTHUR AND LOGAN OKAY maxverstappen THATS BECAUSE Y/N AND OSCAR KEPT RUNNING ONTO THE ROAD!!

alex_albon ... why am i crying im slide 4

oscarpiastri cause you weer flirting witn lily and she told you shee had a bf alex_albon understandable

username omg not them drunk answering in the comments 😭

username ong what did they drink ?!?!?1 username tequila apparently username girl ain't no tequila doin all that

username WE FINALLY FOUND HER GUYS

username lando.jpg coming in clutch 💪 username not her endangering the driver's life by sleeping on the road and pushing arthur in a shopping cart 🙄 username fr like this isn't funny they should stop being friends with her look what Max and Charles said username can yall leave the poor girl alone! they're all adults it was their friends first point ofc they're gonna party ion see yall saying shit abt max and his redbull parties 🤨

After your wild night, it was Oscar who came through first, groaning at the awkward position he was sleeping in, his neck sore with a horribly tough and warm pillow under it. He tried shoving it off but was only met with soft groans and a 'fucking stop', well that was enough to wake up the Aussie.

He turned around to be face-to-face with his childhood best friend, he let out a small yelp and pushed himself off the small sofa they were sharing, waking up the others.

"Oh my god, please shut up," came the hoarse voice of his friend Y/n, from the other side of the bed, on which Alex was the only one sleeping, his phone still on Facetime with his girlfriend, Lily.

As Y/n began pulling herself up, a deep Monganesque voice protested, "Y/n, stop moving," making the young woman's eyes widen as she pulled her hand away from the shirtless f2 driver's chest.

"Why aren't you wearing your shirt?" She asked looking at the boy still lying down on the floor, head clutched in his hands, "actually, Albon, why don't you have your shirt either?" she asked pulling herself up and lending her hand to the struggling boy next to her.

"I can answer that," came a woman's garbled voice through Alex's phone making him jump up to grab it, "Arthur fell off the bed onto you and when you pushed him off he used his shirt as a pillow," 'oh, that's why my ribs hurt' the younger woman thought, throwing a look at her friend, "and Alex was 'literally on fire and going to kill whoever messed with the AC'" she said with air quotes, making her boyfriend turn red.

"Thanks, Lily, I'll call you later, love you." he spoke and cut the call, "Remind me to never ever drink with the four of you again."

"Oscar, you kick in your sleep," Logan complained as he sat up, exploring all the black and blue bruises on his body, "why do we look like we were in a fight club?" he asked out loud making the others look at themselves.

Oscar had a few scratches on his knees and arms, Arthur had bruises and scratches littered all across his palms and hands and a nasty hand-sized bruise on his back, Y/n had a swollen nose, with a deep-ish cut along her eyebrow, the only unscathed on was Alex.

They all got dressed not bothering to change, knowing whose room they were in and walked to the private buffet that had been set up for the driver staying in the hotel, courtesy of Paris Hilton's soft spot for Lando.

As soon as they walked in, they were greeted by Lando, smiling and laughing as he recorded with his phone.

"Merde, I'm going to die, shut the lights," the youngest Leclerc said as he threw himself on the chair, closest to him, letting his head fall back. Y/n was next to accept the defeat of being conscious, sitting and immediately letting herself slump over her head smacking the wooden table with a loud thud, the woman would have been hurt if Logan hadn't moved his hand under her face, letting it bear the brunt of the impact. The blonde wasn't in any better shape, throwing one of the table napkins on his face to block out all light and noise. Oscar was the last to sit, simply clutching his head in his hands, almost pulling out his hair, at the massive headache he had.

Soon after, the unwilling babysitters followed, scowling at the sight of the supposed adults who were in no condition to be awake.

"All four of you, delete my number from your phone," the Dutchman spoke as he sat down next to his British friend, "eighty-two calls of all of you singing Barbie girl at 2 IN THE MORNING," he yelled slightly making the four whine.

"Please for the love of god shut up," the Aussie spoke up surprising the three sober men.

"Arthur mate, what did you all drink?" his brother asked laughing.

"Last I remember were the shots," he answered in broken French and English.

"So you don't remember when you all ran out of the club and went to Costco?" Lando spoke with a smirk, "And Y/n pushed Arthur around in the parking lot in the shopping carts,"

"What?" the pair asked, the girl sitting up, letting the blonde take back his hand.

"Oh, that is not even the worst part," Charles continued, "You and Oscar stole traffic cones, put them over your head and began tackling each other, and slept on the road," he chuckled making the duo look at each other with wide eyes.

"Oh and let's not forget when Logan and Arthur climbed up a building," he said knudging the brunette next to him. The two in question looked sheepishly at the older men and back onto the table.

"I am never going to drink, ever again," Y/n groaned as she tried to keep her eyes open.

"Yeah right, let's see you in Vegas," The youngest Leclerc sniped, making the girl throw the napkin of Logan's face on Arthur.

"Hey, guys," Lando called out bringing everyone's attention to him, the six waited as Lando's eyes widened and widened, "WHY IS THERE A TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLAR CHARGE ON OSCAR'S COMPANY CARD?!"

oof this one was long af 😭 but I hope yall like how chaotic the boys get when they're with Y/n, cause we menaces frfr.

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1

[maxybabyy]

part two to this (run coach Max)

There’s a disclaimer that he has to click away before it lets him start the download, ‘Parts of the audio may be corrupted, this run can be replaced with – ‘ Daniel barely reads it before he clicks away to press start.

“This will be a lovely run, I can already tell,” Max says on the app. “You of course pressed start, so here we are. Always this makes me feel really good because I get to coach you, so thank you for starting this speed run with me!”

He lets out a tiny laugh, and Daniel echoes it, kicks his feet into a run.

“Right now, we are of course just warming up, so you have to run nice and easy,” Max says as he goes over the structure of the run, the five minutes of warm-up before they begin on the fartlek, on the ever-changing paces that already seem daunting. “If a 7 is your 5k pace, then this should be a 3 or a 4 only.”

There’s a noise on Max’s end of the recording, a voice that doesn’t belong to him or his sound engineer. The quality is worse too, he reckons, a quiet static in the background that isn’t usually there in Max’s runs.  

Daniel doesn’t mind, Max’s voice is clear in his ears, and that’s all he needs.

He runs the first three intervals with no strain in his knee, pumps his legs to match the pace Max tells him to hit, forces himself to keep running when Max reminds him to move during the recovery periods, “Do not stop, you are doing so well for me. This is a really lovely time to get your breath back, but please do not stop moving!” Max says in his ears. He sounds breathless too, and it takes Daniel another moment to realise that Max must be running along on his side of the recording.

Usually, Max is the voice of composure, steady and calm in his ear as he guides Daniel through his run. Sometimes GP will chip in, reign him in if Max wanders too far off a tangent, but it’s clear from the clean and crisp audio that they’re usually in a studio somewhere.

It makes something stir low in his stomach, the thought of Max off on his own, in his running kit and pocket microphone as he pushes himself to set another best time, to make himself feel good too. If Daniel listens harder, picks at the more pronounced accents of Max’s words, he can almost convince himself Max sounds younger too.

His body aches, but he’s barely running, too busy listening to the way Max’s voice is heavy in his ears, how he pants through another 30-second interval at mile pace.

“Next, you will have the last 30 second interval, so make sure you keep going hard,” Max says. “You will maybe want to deflate but keep your pace strong. Promise me you will not stop until we finish, can you do that for me?”

Daniel groans and digs his nails into the meat of his palm, wills his dick to stay soft. He’s almost home, almost at the house where he can strip off and touch himself without being labelled as the fucking neighbourhood pervert who gets off on running.

“For the last interval, I want of course your best pace,” Max tells him in between punched-out breaths.

It should be illegal for guided runs to sound like this, breathless and demanding, erotic, almost pornographic if it wasn’t for how often Max tells him to keep running. Like this, he can almost pretend, close his eyes and lose himself in the way his body feels, just a hair’s breadth away from the real fucking thing.

It makes sense then how hard it had been to find. The recording hidden away in the depths of Max-guided runs, without their usual flair and light-hearted descriptions that had drawn him in the first time. Left to be forgotten, unheard and unused lest anyone else stumble upon it.

He wonders if GP had to tell him. If GP had listened to the recording, to Max panting into his ear, begging him not to stop, to keep going hard, to make it the best he’d ever done, and knew what it sounded like. If Daniel is the only one getting hard during fartlek runs.

“It is maybe not your fastest pace, but it is what makes you feel the best at this point,” Max continues, voice soft like silk. It makes a shiver run down his sweaty back. “Keep going until I tell you to stop, just a little more, please do not stop! Three, two, one – “

Daniel slams into the door as his legs shake underneath him.

Max is winding down the run in his ears, recommending another few minutes of running to cool down. But Daniel cannot listen, he’s barely even able to breathe as he forces the run to be over, shaky fingers on the screen.

He kicks off his shoes and marches to the bathroom, his phone left shamefully in his pocket. He’s almost at the door when Scotty finds him. “Looking good, Ric,” he says, touches his arm.

Daniel grunts and turns to look at him, wills himself to stop shaking.

Scotty looks great dressed in a sweater and a nice pair of slacks. His hair is done up nice and there’s an unusual glow to his face. Scotty always looks good, but tonight he looks fucking hot, so Daniel does the only thing he can think of and pulls him in for a kiss.

Daniel feels desperate, turned on by Max’s pants in his ears, the thoughts simmering in his mind all the way home. Scotty kisses back, laughs against his lips and leans into Daniel’s chest when he wraps his arms around him.

“Endorphin high, eh? Must have been a great run,” he says, smirks. His hand rubs lazily over his dick, and Daniel feels his entire body seize. He could come from this he knows, the heat low in stomach coiled and ready for release, but he doesn’t want to. It’s been ages since he’s come from anything that wasn’t a hand, and he aches desperately for a real fuck.  

“Wanna make it even better?” Daniel asks, mouth still pressed against his. His hands find Scotty’s hips, pull him in close until he can grind his dick against his, slow rolls of their hips until Scotty is breathing heavily too. They stumble into the bedroom together, the bed still unmade from how he left it this morning. “You could fuck me, yeah?”

Scotty spreads him out on the bed, pushes his shirt up to his chest, drenched in sweat. He kisses across overheated skin, digs a nail into Daniel’s nipple before he looks up at him, loose smile on his lips, “Had a bum knee, didn’t you?”

Daniel snorts, and it almost doesn’t sound bitter.

They’ve been able to fuck for a while now, longer with Daniel on top, but Scotty has never liked that. Had barely wanted to try it when Daniel had brought it up, bottoming. Daniel had taken it in a stride, doesn’t care either way. Doesn’t want to fuck someone who doesn’t want to be fucked, so they make do.

“Did, but it’s all better now,” he says instead. He pulls Scotty down for a kiss, hooks his good knee around his hip to pull him in, shivers when Scotty finally fucks down against him, “Promise.”

Scotty laughs, sucks his teeth. He raises himself to one of his elbows so he can look down at Daniel, brow furrowed when he finally meets his eyes again, voice almost soft when he adds, “We don’t have the time for that, Ric.”

“It’s fine. Reckon I’m still good from this morning,” Daniel says desperately. It feels worse than before, bitter to almost have to beg Scotty for this, to be fucked.  

He had thought they would do it this morning, got up before the alarm to open himself up. Bent over the sink with too much lube and a shit angle, but it was worth it to slip into bed, to wake Scotty up for a morning fuck. But Scotty had other plans, a breakfast with his agent that couldn’t be moved, lunch with the team.

Daniel had been so annoyed with himself for assuming that he had just sat there watching as Scotty with the tacky lube drying in his ass.

“Need a quick finger or two maybe, but like –“

“Dan, the Strolls are coming over in like forty minutes.”

“The Strolls? What?” Daniel asks, lets his knee fall back onto the bed. He does the maths in his head, knows Lance is supposed to be back in Canada now, preparing for the next race.

“Chloe is joining us for dinner. You offered to make Grace’s pasta for her, remember? I had to go get the wine for it and all,” Scotty says, smiles softly like it’s Dan’s fault but he doesn’t really mind, is fond of him anyway. “Have to get our asses moving, yeah? But like, I can do a handy before your shower. Would you like that?”

Daniel feels the way his dick has started to flag, overwhelmed with emotions he doesn’t remember. But it seems dumb to say no now, when he worked so hard to get them there. So he nods, smiles a little and says, “I mean, if you insist.”

[33max]

max wins his fourth championship

red bull turkey dinosaurs au, 1560 words

The moment Gianpiero sees Max’s crinkly-eyed smile and fluffy hair plastered across every TV screen in the paddock, he knows Max is going to drop. Maybe not yet, but soon. It’s obvious to GP now, especially because he’s had 4 years to start recognising the signs.

Max has dropped after every championship win. GP doesn’t know if it’s the relief of finally claiming the title, or Max allowing himself to celebrate exactly how he wants to, but either way, the team love celebrating with the little guy. There is nothing better than his unbridled childlike wonder and squawking giggles filling the garage after a win.

“You’re going with Max,” Christian tells him, he’s sat a couple of seats down on the pit wall – his headphones still on after congratulating Max.

“Am I?” GP asks, surprised. Max won the title, but he only placed P5 - he’s not going on the podium. Why would GP be going with Max?

“There’s a car ride to the Bellagio,” Christian says, then softens his eyes and insists. “You go with him in the car.”

He gets it now. Christian is worried Max will drop too soon, and if he does then GP needs to be there with him. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

The walk to Parc Ferme is chaos. There are bodies everywhere. The pit lane is full of people celebrating, mechanics trying to get to their cars, photographers, journalists, and paddock club members swarming. But he makes it through.

The moment he sees Max, he starts running. His driver has just won their fourth championship in a row and he can’t wait to throw his arms around Max. They knew the win was a possibility today, but GP didn’t think it would happen, especially not with a DIY rear wing. But Max always surprises him.

“You were amazing!” GP screams as he gets close enough for Max to hear him. He acts on impulse, maybe because Max looked so soft on the TV footage, or maybe because GP can feel how much Max needs a hug. Either way, before he knows it he’s bending down and lifting Max up like he does when Max is small, holding him so tightly as Max giggles loudly.

“You did exactly what you needed to, mate!” GP says, “You knew who our race was with and you made it happen.”

“Only P5,” Max says, shrugging, as GP puts his feet back on the floor. GP hates how hard Max is on himself sometimes, even with a championship win today Max considers P5 the fourth loser.

“It was the best we could have got from the car today, Max.” GP affirms, “More than the car deserved actually.”

Max smiles, cheeks turning a little pink with the praise.

“My world champ!” GP says, refocusing Max on the huge positive. He puts a hand on Max’s shoulder and shakes him a little, so damn proud.

They’re ushered into an obnoxious Rolls Royce with fairy lights on the ceiling and far too many buttons that Max immediately starts pressing.

“Look,” Max says, shyly indicating what each button does.

“Yeah, cool isn’t it?” GP replies, going along with it. He suspects Max has already started to drop, usually Max isn’t so enamoured by buttons.

“Jeep, I won,” Max whispers. Maybe the microphones can pick it up and GP will have a new nickname in the paddock tomorrow, or maybe they can’t and the name Jeep will still be reserved for only Max to call him – it doesn’t matter either way.

GP looks over to Max, leans back in his seat, and smiles fondly, “Yes, you did. How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” Max says.

GP hands him his water bottle, filled with a fruity electrolyte drink, the long bendy straw is tied up so GP unties it and hands Max the mouthpiece.

“Tank you,” Max says through his slow sips.

The next few hours are full on, but GP stays close to Max, making sure Max doesn’t drop too deep. He ends up lingering just outside of the TV pen, following Max to each interview, and standing next to him in the group photo.

“Jeep,” Max whines, after the team has thoroughly drenched him in red bull and champagne. He’s tugging on the sleeve of GP’s jacket rather insistently, trying to drag him back towards the hospitality building.

GP knows immediately that Max has dropped fully, that he’s probably around 3 or 4 years old now mentally.

“What is it, Maxy?” GP asks gently, “What do you need?”

“Sticky.” Max flaps his arms. “No no no.”

GP nods, he leans down and scoops Max up onto his shoulder. A fireman’s carry. One that doesn’t look immediately strange if there are any photos of this online.

“Come on then, time to get the world champion in the shower!” GP laughs, running towards the building.

“No Jeep!” Max squeals, “No shower! BAFF!”

So, a bath it is then.

Rupert, almost magically, has the blow-up bathtub ready for Max when they get back to his driver’s room. There are lots of bubbles and three rubber ducks floating on the top, a daddy, a mummy, and a baby duck. Max’s little duck family travel to every race with them.

“Well done, buddy,” Rupert says when they barge into the room. He takes Max from GP, holding him on his hip and giving him a quick bounce. “We are so proud of you.”

Max nuzzles into Rupert’s neck.

“Rupy, baff,” Max points. “Sticky.”

GP and Rupert work together to get Max out of his clothes, he’s got so many layers on to combat the cold Vegas night. They both chucklenwhen they pull off one sock and then there’s another one right underneath.

Eventually, once Max is free of all clothes and socks, GP lifts him into the tub.

He splishes splashes, happily babbling to his ducks.

“You going to call Dan?” Rupert asks quietly. The elephant in every room. Daniel isn’t here. Nobody can blame him, either.

GP nods. “Yeah, I was waiting for a quiet moment alone. I think it would have been too much for Max earlier, he would have dropped deep in front of everyone, and that’s not fair to him or Daniel.”

“Yeah,” Rupert agrees. “I’ll leave you guys to it while you call him, don’t worry about the bath, I’ll clean up in here when you’re done.”

Rupert gives Maxy a quick kiss on the head, and Maxy brings baby duck up to peck at Rupert’s cheek. “Bye Rupy!”

It makes GP’s heart swell, how lovely and innocent this version of Max is. How sweet and kind. How delicate.

“Maxy, shall we call Daddy now?”

Maxy looks at him with huge, adoring blue eyes, nodding desperately.

“Ok,” GP says, calling Daniel on FaceTime.

He hands Max the phone as it’s ringing.

“Try not to drop my phone in the bath, Maxy,” GP tells him, “Do safe hands, okay?”

Max is just about to reply when Daniel answers, and the screen fills with his big smile.

“Daddy!” Maxy beams, flapping a little. Daniel probably can’t see him very well.

“Oh, baby,” Daniel says, eyes wet. “You’re small already?”

Max nods, bringing his baby duck up towards the camera to peck and kiss at the phone screen. GP has to look away, it’s so sweet that it feels like it should be a private moment between the two of them.

“You were so good today, baby.” Daniel sobs, “You won and I am so proud of you.”

Max nods again, happy, but GP can tell it’s not the championship he’s happy about now. He’s happy because he’s talking to his Daddy.

“When Daddy come?” Max pouts. “Daddy, what about my night night bottle? And story time?”

“I am coming, baby,” Daniel says, panning the camera around to show Max the airport lounge he is sitting in. “I am coming to give you your bottle and a really big cuddle. Is that okay?”

“Yes!” Max splashes in excitement, and GP worries about his phone.

“Okay, Daddy will be there in two hours,” Daniel tells him, “I’m coming, Maxy.”

GP watches as Max babbles and giggles on the phone to Daniel until eventually Max’s eyes droop a little and Daniel has to get on the plane.

“Alright Maxy, tell Daddy you’ll see him very soon,” GP says, prompting Max to start saying his goodbyes. “See you soon, Dan!”

“Bye Daddy,” Maxy yawns, “See you soon.”

Once GP has hung up the call, and his phone is back to safety on the dry desk, he begins to lift Max out of the bath.

Getting him dry is always a challenge. Max twists and turns to avoid the towel as it tickles his tummy, and he absolutely does not let anyone near his ears so GP has to be extra careful when drying his hair. But eventually, Max is dry and in his pyjamas, a footed onesie with dinosaurs on it.

“Very handsome,” GP says, kissing his forehead as he lifts Max up and onto his hip. “Shall we go and see the mechanics before Daddy gets here? I know they’ll want to see you.”

“Okay,” Max says softly, laying his head on GP’s shoulder.

Max is asleep before they are even out the door of his driver’s room, but that’s okay, GP has him.

[hello-sweetheart]

Stardew Steddie

A Stardew valley inspired au where Steve, deep in corporate despair, impulsively quits his job to move into a plot of land he inherited from his aunt.

It’s rundown, the cabin on the property is drafty and tiny, he knows nothing about living off the land, but the weight of monotonous corporate life has been removed from his chest.

What feels like the first time in years, he breathes.

Eddie has grown up in the small town for most his life. He feels ‘othered’ as everyone else who has deep rooted connections with the town and community; he stays off to the side never feeling belonging, dreaming of moving to the city.

He plays in a small band that sometimes plays at Benny’s bar with a few friends, a couple from a town over. He lives in the basement of his Uncle’s home occasionally helping him manage his local woodworking business.

And on his free time, he likes hanging around the abandoned farm at the edge of town where it’s quiet, overran by the wildness, and no one can here him take his anger out on the world.

No one told informed him that someone had moved into the vacant land until he’s met faced to face with a peeved yuppie telling him that this is private property.

Who tf is this?

Eddie lives with Wayne, the town carpenter/handyman

Benny runs the Stardrop Saloon

The Ms. Henderson owns the ranch

Ted owns the local grocery store, Karen runs the recreation center (where the fitness club meets)

Chrissy is the teacher/tutor who is from the city as well but settled in Pelican Town to escape her abusive mother. She lives in the sea-side cottage

Jason lives with his grandparents, Evelyn and George, and is studying to be a physical therapist with an athlete’s scholarship

Max lives in a trailer by the river along with her mom who struggles with addiction

Joyce (as Jodi) is single mom who lives next to Nancy and Barb

Robin is an artist who lives in a cabin by the Henderson’s ranch

Hopper is veteran who was held in a Gotoro prison camp and has settled as the local fisherman learning to heal from his trauma.

Luca’s mom is the mayor and his dad is the librarian

Kali is the founder of the Adventurer’s guild, Nancy is a member

Brenner works for Joja corp.

There’s a strange structure hidden in Cindersap Forest and the locals claim that you can often see a glimse a young girl if you travel far enough off the the trail…

[f0point5]

(I’m) charming and endearing, and (un)comfortable

Written companion piece to the Lando x fakegirlfriend!reader social media au

Set after Part 6, at the dinner with Lando’s dad that is mentioned.

A/N: So, those of you who were here for the Max fix know that I do long form writing exercises to get more of a feel for the characters for the smau. I didn’t share the Max ones while the fic was ongoing because my writing is not my favourite, but I do like providing more of an insight into the real life stuff that isn’t covered in the smau and especially the reader’s thoughts. And I like this is kind of needed for this smau especially. So, I’m not going to tag anyone in these so that if you’d rather just read the smau you don’t get caught up with these, but you can read them if you want more of an insight into the reader’s character. If you hate it…just pretend it never happened 🫠🫣

“You look fine,” you tell your reflection, staring at it right in the eyes.

Your gaze flits down to your simple black satin slip dress. Black Amina Muadi heels peek out from the hem. Single, but elegant, you think.

You look fine.

“You look fine.” You tell your reflection one more time, and she looks like she believes you.

Of course you look fine. You wouldn’t have a career if you didn’t. People have paid obscene amounts of money for your face and your body. You know exactly how much Lando Norris has paid. You put together something that accentuates your shape a bit but not so much that his dad would think you’re trying.

You haven’t met a parent in a while. Once you’d started shooting womenswear at 15, parents were rarely around, though occasionally you would run into an overbearing mother. You can’t remember ever meeting anyone’s father.

Your alarm rings, so it’s too late to change now. Steeling yourself with one last deep breath, you go over to the interconnecting door and knock.

On the other side of the door, something bangs, and then someone grunts, and you’re about to just give up on this whole idea before the door wings open to reveal a panting Lando Norris.

He’s dressed in beige chinos and a black polo shirt, showing off a golden tan. Okay, you’d let Twitter win this one; he’s beautiful.

“I thought you were going to-“ he starts, but then stops himself. You suppose he assumed you’d knock on the external door. “Never mind,”

“So,” you gesture to the space between you.

“Oh, yeah, come in,” he says, stepping aside to let you into his suite.

It’s huge. You survey the large living room. Several pairs of chinos sit in dry cleaning plastic on the couch. The remains of a fruit platter sits on the dining table. Two sets of golf clubs rest precariously on a wall in the corner. He’s a bit of a slob.

“What?” He asks you. You turn to him, surprised to find his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Nothing,” you shake your head and shrug, but he doesn’t stop studying you. He’s making an effort not to be obvious, but he’s assessing you from head to toe. It makes you squirm. “It’s okay? The look?”

His eyes widen. “The look’s incredible,” he says quickly, probably embarrassed you caught him looking. His cheeks turn even more red. “You’re-“

“Okay, we can go?” You cut him off, smoothing you already sleek up-do. He should turn the damn air conditioning on.

Lando motions for you to go ahead of him to the door and he trails behind you until he hurries past you to get the door. You head to the lift in silence, hair on the back of your neck prickling every time you feel his eyes linger on you.

You look fine. He would have told you if you didn’t.

“Thanks again for doing this,” he says, when you’re in the lift. You glance at him, finding him already looking at you with a shy smile that would have any woman on her knees right there.

You shrug. “It’s not a problem.”

“Probably not your idea of a fun evening,” he continues, and you wonder if he’s trying to convince you to call it off and go back upstairs.

“I was going to eat from the restaurant anyway.” You say, watching as he yawns. “You’re tired?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Two sessions today. And quali always take a lot out of me, you know,”

You hum in response.

“I, uh,” he stops himself, and then notices you’re looking at him, so he sighs before continuing. “I actually did pretty well. At quali. Better than I thought I would, anyway. It’s…” he trails off, scratching at the back of his neck.

He looks sort of embarrassed to have even mentioned it. You almost give in and tell him you watched the qualifying live while doing your post flight skincare, but you don’t. You’re not sure why exactly, it just feels like you’d be committing to something, and don’t want to do that.

“Congratulations,” is all you end up saying, and then it’s back to silence.

When you get downstairs, three separate groups of girls ask for pictures with him. You stand aside awkwardly, watching the way these strangers lean into him and eagerly put their arms around him and stand so close. It makes your skin crawl. Lando doesn’t react to it. But then, you never do, either.

He apologises for the interruption and you wave it off, embarrassed that he might have noticed your discomfort. It’s not your business.

Inside the restaurant, Lando gently directs you towards a table by the window where his dad is waiting. You’d googled him, so you knew what he liked like, but the photos didn’t do justice to the serenity that rolls off this man in waves.

He stands when he sees you, opening his arms to his son. Lando steps into his embrace with no hesitation, and you wonder if that’s why he’s not bothered so much by the closeness of strangers. Maybe you wouldn’t mind being touched if anyone had ever touched you like that.

When they part, you pull your lips into a smile and step forward.

“Good evening, Mr. Norris. I’m Y/N,”

Adam’s wide smile falters for a second. “Of course I know that,” he says with a chuckle, beckoning you over. You oblige, and he leans in to kiss you on both cheeks. “Who wouldn’t recognise his son’s girlfriend, eh? And please, call me Adam,”

“D’accord.” When both men raise an eyebrow, you explain, “it means okay,”

“Ah,” Adam says with a sage nod, sitting down.

You startle when Lando pulls your chair out for you, flashing him what you hope is a grateful look rather than a confused one.

“I learnt French all through school but I’ve forgotten it all, unfortunately,” Adam says.

“I got the duolingo for it, but it’s harder than you think,” Lando chips in.

“Surely Y/N could teach you,”

“I’m too strict for him,” you joke, forcing yourself not to react when you feel Lando rest his arm on the back of your chair.

“Is that so,” Adam says, catching your eye.

You know the looks he’s giving you. It’s the look a casting director gets when they meet you and you aren’t quite what they asked for. That look they get in their eyes as they decide if you’re a good enough compromise is the same one Adam Norris is giving you now.

He’s the worst kind of casting director - the type that will try to make small talk as if they don’t have your life in numbers printed out in front of them; the type to make you laugh so they can judge the shade and angle of your teeth. Not content with your time, they demand a performance.

So you perform.

You order pasta instead of salad because being thin is most appreciated when it’s effortless. You tease Lando endlessly because the brits like to make fun of each other. You pretend you’re duly nervous when Adam speaks to you and not nervous every time Lando does.

You’re not sure if Adam buys into it. He and Lando have an easy and intoxicating rapport that you’re powerless to replicate. Lando’s admiration of his dad is almost palpable, and Adam’s adoration is plain to see. He loves his son so much that you think it must be clear to him that you don’t.

But he’s clever, and funny, and more gracious than you deserve. He’s so guileless that you understand why Lando would want to shield him from the truth of your situation. You feel a little guilty, being part of the lie, and even more guilty for being part of the truth, but you push that all down, reminding yourself that these people have no more to do with you than a photographer or a designer on a shoot.

By the time dinner comes to an end, you’re exhausted. You can taste blood in your mouth from chewing the inside of your cheek, and you feel sick from the Chardonnay that Adam ordered that you had to pretend to like on an empty stomach.

The knot in your chest loosens with every step the three of you take towards the lifts. Lando and Adam joke about what they’re going to eat for dinner after the race and you almost burst into tears at the thought of doing this all again tomorrow.

“I’m so glad I finally got to meet you,” Adam says with what you’ve come to believe is a trademark wide smile. “Honestly I was starting to think he’d made it up, getting the most beautiful girl in the world to go out with him,”

Ha. Most beautiful. Maybe when you were six, all lithe and pouty and innocent. Maybe when you were seventeen, no curves or dark circles or opinions. Not now.

He’s teasing you, not laughing at you, but your body can’t tell the difference.

You think you feel the bile rising up your throat but thankfully Lando cuts in before you have to.

“Dad,” he chides through clenched teeth and a pained smile. When you turn to him the blush that has become quite familiar to you is back with a vengeance, and spreading all the way to his ears.

“What? It’s not bad to say your girlfriend is beautiful,” Adam teases, turning to you. “Is it, Y/N?”

“I would be worried if he didn’t. It’s how I stay employed, after all,” you say with a smile. Your response is effortless, well rehearsed, right down to the way you lift your hand to ghost over your collarbone.

“Must be a glamorous life, being a model,” Adam says thoughtfully. You may not have any experience meeting parents, but you know well enough what he’s getting at.

You lift one shoulder in a shrug. “No more glamorous than being a formula one driver. And I’m sure you know from Lando that glamour doesn’t mean comfort. Very often the opposite, if my shoes are any indication,”

He’s taken aback by your answer, doesn’t even bother to hide his raised eyebrows. “No, that’s-“ he lets out a sigh. “That’s very true. You’ve got a wise one here, mate,”

“Yeah, she’s keeping me out of trouble,” Lando jokes, nudging you, and though it doesn’t hurt you feel a sting where his skin touched yours.

“I don’t doubt it,” Adam says, opening his arms to hug you again. “Go easy on him though, eh?” These words are half whispered as he pulls you close, squeezing you just once before he lets you go.

“I will,” you promise. It’s one you’ll try to keep.

He hugs Lando next, a tight one, cradling the back of his son’s head with a gentle tap.

“Well,” he says to both of you, “it’s been lovely to meet you, Y/N. I’m just going to check the front desk has organised my taxi to the airport on Monday, so I’ll see you both tomorrow,”

“Night, Dad,”

“Love you.”

Adam heads off to the desk just as the lift arrives and you dart into it. You’re too tired to even press the button for your floor but Lando takes care of it.

He lets out a heavy breath, looking over at you as though thinking you might do the same. He doesn’t realise your night isn’t over until he’s gone, too.

“I think that went well,” he says. It’s a confident statement said in an uncertain tone, and you can’t help but feel bad. It’s not as though he was the one who had to make a good impression.

“I’m sorry if I’m not-“ you stop yourself. It’s not your fault. “If he didn’t like me. I hope it won’t cause problems for you,”

Lando looks completely nonplussed by your comment. “Of course he liked you,” he says with reassuring scoff and a smile, as if anything else is unimaginable. “And he’s not really that kind of dad. He just cares that I like you,”

God, that smile. You’d hate yourself for the things you’d do to keep him smiling at you like that.

“I think you faked that well,” you say, smiling back at him.

He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for doing this,” he clears his throat. “Still don’t know why you did,”

He’s expecting an answer and you struggle for something to tell him. You don’t know what answer he’s looking for.

You can feel the pressure building as he waits for you to say something. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears. Your skin bursts into flames and your palms get clammy.

Why is he even asking? He didn’t think twice about asking you for a favour and now he’s changing the rules. It was dinner, not a kidney. Does he have so many vampires around him that he thinks you need a reason to be nice? Is he so used to paying for kindness that he thinks he needs to buy you, too? Didn’t he already try?

Thankfully, mercifully, the lift stops at your floor and you waste no time stepping out even though you’re beginning to feel unsteady on your feet.

The air conditioning hits you, and you realise you don’t owe Lando an explanation.

“You can just say thank you, you know,” you tell him, striding towards your rooms with him half a step behind. “You don’t have to think so much about it.”

“I did say thank you,” he argues. You glance at him as you pull out your keycard. He’s bewildered. You’re breaking your promise to Adam already, but it’s his sanity or yours.

“De rien.” You place your key card against the censor and open the door. “Goodnight.”

Once you slip inside, the door clicks shut with no trouble, and you wait to hear Lando’s door open and shut before you make your way further into the room. You kick off your shoes and shed your dress on the way to your suitcase.

You can hear him moving around in his suite, more attuned to it now you know the layout of the room. As you rummage around for your sweatpants and hoodie, half of you wants to send an apology text. The stupid half of you. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. You can’t afford for it to matter. The weight of his judgement will crush you, you know it.

As you pull on the brown Quadrant hoodie, you tell yourself it’s better he doesn’t think of you at all.

[vivwritesfics]

Jester Stole His Thorny Crown

Chapter Four

He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.

Mafia!Au

1.4K

Warnings: drugs (not taken), gun violence, descriptions of piano playing even though i don't know how to play piano

Series Masterlist

It had been three lessons, and she was still terrified of him. That was clear. Every time he pulled up his sleeves, she flinched.

Charles noticed every single time. What had she heard to make her fear him so? More importantly, what had Arthur told her?

It made the piano lessons incredibly difficult. Charles could play one song and it was only ten seconds long (he had been a little surprised when she first taught him to play happy birthday, but he went along with it, at least slow progress was being made).

The three lessons happened in the span of a week. In that week Charles had met with the Gasly family, reunited with his old friend Pierre, had collected the money from the other clubs (since Arthur had taken the drugs out of the lounge) and had attended her performances almost every night.

It was amazing, she was amazing. Charles didn't care if he sat there with an empty drink, just watching her. He didn't notice his glass was lacking, not when he couldn't pull his eyes away.

Charles never had a chance to daydream. He was forced to grow up early, was never able to let his imagination run wild. At twenty-six years old, Charles understood why. He understood why he was never allowed to daydream.

As he sat in the meeting with Lorenzo and Esteban Ocon. Esteban Ocon was a mystery in the mafia world. He was a normal kid, hadn't grown up in a mafia family Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo. It was a mystery how he got to this point.

Somehow, as a teenager, Esteban ended up under the employment of the Gasly family. He and Pierre became good friends, but that friendship soon ended. Nobody but Pierre and Esteban knew what happened between them, but guns were pointed at each other and Esteban had to flee. He ended up in Monaco, under the protection of the Leclercs.

Charles was staring at Esteban, clearly making him uncomfortable. But Charles didn't notice. He was too busy daydreaming, imagining being sat at that piano with her, the crowd before them clapping as they finished their song.

"Charles," Lorenzo began, but Charles didn't respond. He was still staring, a stupid, dopey smile on his face. "Charles, Charlie," Lorenzo tried again. He knew just how much he hated being called Charlie, but even that wasn't getting him to respond.

Lorenzo turned his attention to Esteban. "Did he take something?"

But Esteban shrugged his shoulders and leaned across the table to snap his fingers in front of Charles's face. Charles flinched away from him, blinking rapidly as he sat up straighter. "What the fuck?"

"Are you concentrating now?"

Charles glared across the table. "Yes, I'm concentrating," he spat, crossing his arms over his chest.

But still, it was hard to concentrate as the meeting went on. Charles couldn't stop his mind from drifting back to her. He stopped imaging the crowd watching them. Just them, sat around the piano. enjoying each other.

"You know Verstappens boy, don't you?" Asked Lorenzo.

Charles nodded his head. He knew Max incredibly well. They were best friends when they were kids, before Jos became the head of the Verstappen Family. It had been a good few years since they had seen each other last, but Charles doubted anything would change.

"Stay on Max's good side and maybe Jos won't try and kill us," Lorenzo muttered. "Get ready to meet them tomorrow. Don't take guns, but be ready to fight if you have to. And take Arthur with you," he said, ready to dismiss them.

"Arthur? No way. He's still got a fucking gunshot wound in his arm," Charles threw back at his brother. He sat back in his chair, staring at Lorenzo. "Why can't Esteban come with me?"

"Because Max hates me," said Esteban.

"I'm not taking Arthur."

"You're taking Arthur. And that's final."

Lorenzo finally dismissed them. He sent them out of his office, turning his attention to the papers in front of him. Charles was the first out of the room. He stood up with such force that his chair fell back. Esteban followed him out of the office, falling into step behind him. "I can come if you want," he said. "I can sneak around and make sure that nothing bad happens to your brother," he offered.

Charles shook his head. "There's no sneaking around with Jos," he replied. "He'll kill you without hesitation."

He climbed into his car and quickly drove off. Esteban was one of the only friends he had in this world. It was lonely, but Esteban made it a little easier.

Charles didn't know where he was driving to. He was heading somewhere, his mind too consumed to know where. Thank God the people of Monaco knew to get out of his way.

When did he arrive at the lounge. He sat in the car for a minute, just staring at the building. He wasn't there for sanctuary, for comfort. He was there to confront her.

He was angry, but it wasn't at her. His anger was nothing to do with her, but he couldn't do anything to fix the reason why he was angry. He could do something about her.

He pushed the doors open, walking into the lounge. "Mr Leclerc," she called, standing from the piano stall.

That just fuelled Charles's anger. She watched as he stormed over to her, his jaw clenched. Her back was against the piano as he climbed the stairs and walked across the stage.

He stood so close until she was consumed by him. Every breath she took was him. And she was terrified. "I thought I told you to call me Charles," he said, his voice low.

How she wasn't shaking, she didn't know. "Mr Leclerc, please," she whispered, trying to get away.

Charles grabbed the piano lid, trapping her between his strong arms. "Why are you so scared of me?"

She opened her mouth, but no words left her lips.

His arms tensed and he pressed himself closer. "Tell me. Now."

"Please," she whispered, trying to get away from him. "Mr Leclerc, Charles, please." But she couldn't get away from him. It was too much, far too much, and she had to get away.

Charles hadn't expected her to push him. He didn't expect her to press her hands against his chest and push. But she did. She pushed him away and he stumbled back. "No way," he said, a grin crossing his face.

"I'm not scared of you," she said, standing strong (even if it was a lie).

And Charles knew it was a lie. He pulled his gun from his waistband, watched as her face fell, and put it on the floor. "I don't want to hurt you," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Slowly, he walked toward her again, like she was a startled animal. This time, she didn't flatten herself against the piano. As he sat on the bench, she moved away from him, standing beside the piano as he pressed his fingers against the keys.

Charles had dreams like this. Her against the piano as he played. It wasn't something impressive, just happy birthday, but she sang along.

At the end of the ten second song, Charles stopped. "I don't want you to be afraid of me," he said. I know what I've done, I know what you've probably heard, but I promise, I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Because you need me to teach you piano?"

His hand touched hers, where it rested against the top of the piano. "Yeah," he answered and swallowed thickly. "Yeah, because I need you to teach me piano." At this part in his dream, she would reach for his tie and pull him close, kissing him.

But, in reality, she pulled her hand away from his. She quickly walked away from the piano and off the stage. She disappeared into one of the back rooms, and slammed the door shut behind her.

Charles fists slammed down onto the piano. It was a miracle it didn't break. "Fuck!" He shouted, his voice echoing around the lounge.

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