#i think i know who this might be...................
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harrysfolklore · 2 days ago
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misunderstood hero with a heart of gold - mv1
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summary: max verstappen has never been one to read books, but everything changes when he comes across a pretty booktuber who describes him better than anyone else did before
word count: 8.2k + social media posts
folkie radio: another one of my babies finally sees the light of day 🥹 this fic is really special and i was lowkey gatekeeping it but i feel ready to share it, plss take care of it <3 i hope you like it
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Max Verstappen was bored.
It was late and he was alone in his hotel room. He had a race the following day and he knew better than staying up late. His team was already on his ass for sim racing at ungodly hours of the night when he had a race, but nevertheless, he was bored and not sleepy yet.
He scrolled through his phone, not really paying attention to what popped up on his Instagram feed, Tiktok for you page or Twitter timeline.
After a few minutes, his finger landed on the YouTube app, one that he barely used if he was completely honest, but for some reason he never deleted it.
A bunch of videos showed up on his main page, most of them about F1, gaming, fitness or cats. He scrolled through the thumbnails absentmindedly until one title caught his eye: "Formula 1 Drivers as Romance Book Character Tropes."
Max had no idea how that video ended up in his suggestions page. He wasn't much of a reader—he had only read two books in his entire life, for crying out loud— but curiosity got the better of him. He clicked on the video.
The screen shifted to a bright and lively setup, where a young woman with vibrant energy and a contagious smile greeted her viewers. "Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel. Today, we have a fun video where I'll be pairing Formula 1 drivers with romance book tropes!"
Max found himself smiling for some reason, he thought she was really engaging and funny — and really pretty—. He leaned back against his pillows, more intrigued by the second.
"As some of you might already know, books are not my only passion, I'm also a huge Formula 1 fan since I was a little kid thanks to my dad, so I thought it would be fun to do a little crossover of my two obsessions."
Max grinned again, finding himself oddly invested in this unexpected combination of romance literature and Formula 1. Or maybe just mesmerized by the pretty girl who was talking on his screen.
"Let's begin with Mercedes," she said, clapping her hands together, "Lewis Hamilton is definitely our 'Charming Prince Charming.' He's got the looks, the talent, and that air of royalty about him."
Max chuckled, thinking it was a fitting description for his rival.
"Now for George Russell," she continued, "I'm going with 'The Boy Next Door Who Grew Up Hot.' I mean, have you seen his glow-up?"
Max chuckled again, nodding in agreement. George had indeed transformed quite a bit since his Williams days.
"Moving on to Ferrari," she continued enthusiastically. Max wondered if that was her favorite team on the grid, "Charles Leclerc is our classic 'Childhood Best Friend You've Always Had a Crush On.' He's got that sweet, familiar charm, but with a spark that makes your heart race every time you see him."
Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the change in description. He had to admit, it fit Charles quite well.
"And for Carlos Sainz," she paused dramatically, "he's either our 'Older Brother's Best Friend' or the 'Bad Guy Who's Mean to Everyone but His Sweetheart', just think about it, he's got that rugged exterior, but you just know he's a total sweetheart deep down."
Max laughed, realizing she had Carlos pegged perfectly. He watched with growing interest as she continued.
"Now, let's talk about McLaren," she said with a sparkle in her eye. "Lando Norris is our 'Adorkable Comedian Who Steals Your Heart.' He's funny, relatable, and has a way of making you fall for him before you even realize it," Max grinned at the description of his good friend, "And Oscar Piastri... he's 'The Shy Genius.' Quiet, reserved, but incredibly talented and intelligent. He might not be the loudest in the room, but he's someone you'd definitely want on your side."
Max nodded in agreement, thinking of how Oscar had impressed everyone since joining McLaren. She continued pairing each driver with a character trope, she described Daniel as the "Life of the Party with a Sensitive Soul," highlighting his infectious energy and hidden depths. Pierre was dubbed the "Resilient Underdog," emphasizing his ability to bounce back from setbacks. Yuki was described as the "Fiery Spitfire with a Soft Center" and Logan was labeled the "Rookie with Untapped Potential," suggesting a character arc of growth and discovery.
With each driver's description, Max's anticipation grew. He found himself eagerly awaiting his own characterization, both curious and slightly apprehensive about how the pretty girl with an obsession with books and Formula 1 would describe him.
When she finally got to Red Bull, he sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued.
"Now for Sergio Perez," she said, "he's our 'Loyal Wingman Who Deserves His Own Happy Ending.' Always there to support, but with a story of his own waiting to be told."
Max nodded, thinking it was a pretty accurate description of his teammate.
"And finally, saved the best for last," she said, her eyes twinkling, "we have Max Verstappen."
Max held his breath, oddly nervous about how this stranger would categorize him.
"Max is our 'Misunderstood Hero with a Heart of Gold,'" she said with a warm smile. "Often perceived as cold or distant, but actually deeply caring and protective of those close to him. He's the type who shows his love through actions rather than words."
Max felt his cheeks warm significantly. This description caught him completely off guard. It wasn't the usual 'aggressive driver' or 'arrogant champion' narrative he was used to hearing. Instead, it felt... true. Uncomfortably true. He wasn't sure how to feel about being seen so accurately by a stranger.
As the video ended after she said her goodbyes, Max found himself staring at his phone screen, replaying her words in his mind, his thumb hovering over the comment section. He had never left a comment on a YouTube video before, but something about this one compelled him to break that habit.
After a moment's hesitation, he tapped the comment box and began typing, Once he was done, he paused, reading over his words. It felt strange, almost vulnerable, to acknowledge her characterization of him. But there was also something liberating about it. He added a thumbs-up emoji at the end and hit 'Post' before he could second-guess himself.
As Max set his phone down and settled into bed, a small smile played on his lips. He had a important race the following day, but all he wanted to think and dream about was the pretty stranger who had somehow seen through his carefully crafted public persona.
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f1gossip “I went to bed early last night. Just listened to the team’s orders, you know?”
Max Verstappen for media day today, however he left a comment on a YouTube video around 2:46 am 😭
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username1 HES SOOOOO
username2 the fact that he left a comment on a BOOKTUBER’S channel MAX VERSTAPPEN YOU DONT EVEN READ BOOKS 😭
username3 he looks so pretty tho
username4 MAX WE ALL SAW YOU
username5 max was actually checking which romance trope is him according to booktubers
username6 HES SO RANDOM
username7 max’s search history: lestappen as fictional couples
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ynreadsbooks in honor of max verstappen x3 world champion commenting on my latest video (which is insane to say out loud wtf) should i do another f1 themed video?? any suggestions?
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username1 YES QUEEN
username2 that max comment was so random but so real
username3 max verstappen, the man who has read two books in 27 years watching booktubers was not on my bingo card
username4 @/maxverstappen1 you favorite youtuber will do another video about you
username5 BOOKS WITH RACING THEMES
username6 books inspired by f1 circuits would be fun
username7 @/maxverstappen drop a suggestion
maxverstappen1 started following ynreadsbooks
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f1gossip Max Verstappen was seen outside of a bookshop in Monaco today !
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username1 BABYYYY
username2 max ??? bookshop ????
username3 WHAT SHIFTED
username4 he thought it was jimmyz
username5 HEELPP what is he doing there
username6 hello i work there. he arrived with a list of books in hand that he wanted, he bought around 15 action and fantasy books
↳ username1 FOR REAL???
↳ username2 max said book girl summer
↳ username3 this is so random
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If someone had told Max that this year he would spend his summer break reading, he would've laughed at their faces. Yet here he was, lounging by the pool in his Monaco house, a book in his hands and a smile on his face.
As he turned the page of "The Martian," the latest sci-fi recommendation from YN, Max couldn't help but reflect on how different this summer break was.
Usually, his days off were filled with lavish yacht parties, exclusive clubs, or intense training sessions and hours of sim racing to stay sharp for the second half of the season. But now, he found himself eagerly devouring books and spending hours chatting with YN about plots, characters, and everything in between.
As the weeks passed, Max found himself growing increasingly close to YN, despite never having met her in person. Their text conversations flowed effortlessly, ranging from in-depth discussions about the books they were reading to playful banter about racing and life in general.
Max was surprised by how much he enjoyed her company, even in this digital form. Her wit, intelligence, and genuine interest in his thoughts beyond his racing persona were refreshing. He found himself sharing things he rarely discussed with others, and looking forward to her messages became a highlight of his day.
He also thought she was absolutely gorgeous.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a new message from her.
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Max chuckled, about to reply when he heard the doorbell. He remembered Lando and Daniel were coming over for dinner. As he got up to let them in, he quickly typed a response, telling her that he would talk to her later.
"Well, well, well," Daniel's voice boomed as Max opened the door. "If it isn't the newly minted bookworm of Formula 1!"
Lando peered around Daniel's shoulder, "I half expected to find you wearing glasses and a sweater vest, mate."
"Very funny, guys. Come in," Max rolled his eyes as he stepped away from the door.
Ever since his friends noticed his brand new habit, they took it upon themselves to tease him whenever they could. As they made their way to the backyard, Daniel spotted the book on the lounger.
"The Martian?" he read, picking it up. "Isn't this a bit advanced for your reading level, Maxy?"
"Ha ha," Max deadpanned, snatching the book back. "It's actually really good. It's about this astronaut who gets stranded on Mars and has to use science and engineering to survive-"
"Whoa, whoa," Lando interrupted, holding up his hands. "Who are you and what have you done with Max Verstappen?"
Daniel draped an arm around Max's shoulders. "I think our boy here is trying to impress a certain bookish YouTuber. What was her name again? YN?"
Max felt his cheeks warm. "It's not like that. We just... talk about books and stuff."
"And stuff," Daniel repeated, wiggling his eyebrows. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
Max rolled his eyes, trying to brush off their teasing. "Seriously, it's not like that. We just have a lot in common."
Daniel and Lando exchanged knowing glances before bursting into laughter.
"Sure, mate," Daniel said, patting Max on the back. "Whatever you say."
They settled by the pool, beers in hand, and started chatting about the upcoming races and their plans for the rest of the summer. Despite the playful ribbing, Max found himself genuinely enjoying their company. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his friends.
As the evening wore on, the conversation eventually circled back to Max's books and his little friend on his phone.
"So, Max," Lando started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "have you color-coded your bookshelf yet? Or are you more of a chronological order kind of guy?"
"Nah, mate. I bet he organizes them by how many times YN has mentioned them," Daniel chimed in, "Top shelf is probably her favorites, right Maxy?"
Max felt his cheeks flush, but he couldn't help grinning. "You two are impossible."
"When are you finally going to meet her in person anyway?" Lando said, sipping from his beer.
Max shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the slight flutter in his chest. "I don't know. That's not something I've really thought about,"
He lied. In truth, the thought of meeting YN had crossed his mind countless times. The idea of finally seeing the girl who had captivated him with her intelligence, humor, and beauty made his heart race. He'd catch himself daydreaming about her smile, wondering if it was as warm and infectious in person as it seemed in her videos. But he wasn't ready to admit that to his friends just yet.
Lando and Daniel exchanged a look, clearly not buying Max's nonchalant act.
"Oh come on," Lando scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You expect us to believe that? You've been glued to your phone for weeks, mate."
"I bet he's already planned their first date," Daniel leaned in, "What'll it be, Max? A romantic book reading by candlelight? Or maybe a visit to the library?"
Max felt his cheeks heating up again. "It's not like that, guys. We're just friends."
"Friends who talk every day and have you blushing like a schoolgirl," Lando teased, nudging Max with his elbow.
"I do not blush like a schoolgirl," Max protested, knowing full well that his face was probably bright red by now.
"Sure, sure," Daniel said with a wink. "Just friends. So, have you at least thought about inviting her to a race? You know, show her what you do when you're not reading about Mars?"
"Why would I invite her to a race, that would be weird," Max protested again, "And she already knows what I do, she's a fan of the sport."
"Man, you're so stubborn sometimes," Lando rolled his eyes at him, "If you like this girl, why don't you invite her to a race? It could be a great way to finally meet in person."
"And who said that I liked her," once again, Max's defensive self came through.
Daniel and Lando shared an exasperated look before turning back to Max.
"Come on, mate," Daniel said, his tone gentler now. "It's pretty obvious. We've never seen you this invested in someone before. Not to mention, you're reading books voluntarily for the first time since... well, ever."
"It's written all over your face," Lando said, shaking his head. "You like her, and there's no shame in that. You light up every time your phone buzzes. It's kind of adorable, actually."
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew his friends were right, but admitting it out loud felt like a big step. "Okay, fine. Maybe I do like her. But it's complicated, you know? We've never even met in person."
"That's exactly why you should invite her to a race," Lando insisted. "It's the perfect opportunity. She gets to see you in your element, and you get to finally meet face-to-face."
"Plus," Daniel added with a mischievous grin, "if things go well, you can always show her your trophy collection. I hear that's a great way to impress the ladies."
Max couldn't help but laugh at that. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Maybe," Daniel shrugged, "but I'm also right. What have you got to lose?"
Max pondered this for a moment. The idea of meeting YN in person both thrilled and terrified him. What if they didn't click in real life the way they did over text? But then again, what if they did?
"I'll think about it," Max finally conceded.
Lando and Daniel exchanged triumphant grins.
"That's our boy," Lando said, patting his back.
After a few more beers and food, Lando and Daniel left.
As the night deepened, Max found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The conversation with Lando and Daniel kept replaying in his mind. His phone sat on the nightstand, silent but somehow still demanding his attention.
Max's thoughts raced. Should he text YN? Invite her to Zandvoort? The idea made his heart beat faster. He imagined seeing her in person for the first time, wondering if her smile would be as pretty as it was in her videos. But doubt crept in too. What if things were awkward? What if the chemistry they had online didn't translate to real life?
He rolled onto his side, eyeing his phone. The urge to reach out to her was strong, as it always was. Max realized that Lando and Daniel were right - he did like her. A lot. The thought of meeting her filled him with equal parts excitement and nervousness.
Taking a deep breath, Max grabbed his phone. Before he could overthink it, he started typing.
Hey YN, hope I'm not messaging too late. I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Dutch GP at Zandvoort? It's the first race after the summer break, and my home race. Thought it might be fun if you could make it.
He hit send before he could second-guess himself. The wait for her response felt eternal. When his phone finally buzzed, Max's heart leapt.
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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 286,375 others
ynreadsbooks this week’s video will be delayed for some ~personal reasons ☺️
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username1 GIRL
username2 ARE YOU GOING WHERE I THINK YOU’RE GOING
username3 f1 x books this is literally me
username4 hot girls support max verstappen
username5 ahh if she’s going to the gp i’ll be so happy bc she’s a huge fan
username6 the way roles reversed and now max is his fan 😭
redbullracing We can’t wait 💙
↳ username1 REDBULL???
↳ username2 AHHH THEY PROBABLY INVITED HER
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As Max headed to Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix, he felt the familiar weight of expectations settling on his shoulders.
The second half of the season loomed ahead, and the pressure to maintain his championship lead was on. He knew the team was counting on him to deliver strong results, especially at his home race where the orange-clad fans would be out in full force.
But amidst the pressure and responsibility, there was another emotion bubbling up inside him - a giddy excitement that he couldn't quite contain.
The thought of finally meeting YN in person after months of texts, calls, and shared book recommendations made his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with driving at a car at a very fast speed.
As he drove to the track, Max found himself smiling at random moments, his mind drifting to imagine what it would be like to see her smile in person, to hear her laugh without the filter of a phone call.
Max realized that for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to a race weekend for reasons that extended beyond the track.
Unfortunately, his busy schedule kept them from meeting right away. Media commitments, team briefings, and practice sessions consumed his time, leaving him feeling frustrated and guilty for not being able to see her sooner. He sent her a quick message apologizing for the delay, promising they'd meet after qualifying.
As he made his way to the garage, a familiar voice called out behind him.
"Oi, Max! Ready for the big day?"
Max turned to see Daniel jogging up to him, his trademark grin in place.
"Yeah, should be a good quali," Max replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't talking about qualifying, mate. Your special guest arrives today, right?"
Max felt his cheeks warm. "How did you even remember that?"
"Please," Daniel scoffed. "It's all you've been talking about for weeks. So, have you met her yet?"
"No, my schedule's been packed. We're supposed to meet after quali."
"Ah, saving the best for last, eh?" Daniel's grin widened, "Smart move. Nothing like the adrenaline of a good qualifying session to make a great first impression."
"Or to completely mess it up," Max muttered.
"Hey, none of that," Daniel clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself. She already likes you for who you are, remember?"
Max nodded, feeling a bit reassured. "Thanks, Dan."
With a deep breath, Max headed into the garage, Daniel's words echoing in his mind.
Qualifying went smoothly, with Max securing a front row start to the delight of the Dutch fans. The cheers of the home crowd were deafening as he climbed out of the car, but his mind was elsewhere.
After the post-qualifying interviews, Max sent YN a quick text letting her know that he was free now and she let him know that she was around the hospitality area.
As he walked towards there, Max spotted YN standing near one of the motorhomes, looking around with wide eyes. She hadn't seen him yet, and for a moment, Max just watched her, taking in the sight of the girl who had been on his mind for months now.
She was even more gorgeous in person than he had imagined.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the bustling paddock around her. The way the sunlight caught her hair, the gentle curve of her smile as she observed everything with wonder - it all took Max's breath away.
He noticed little details he couldn't have seen through a screen: the way her eyes sparkled, the subtle freckles across her nose, the graceful way she moved as she looked around.
Taking a deep breath, Max walked over, his heart pounding. "YN?"
She turned, her face lighting up with a radiant smile that made Max's breath catch. "Max! Finally!"
They moved toward each other, and without hesitation, Max pulled her into a hug. The embrace felt natural, as if they'd done this a hundred times before. He was aware of how perfectly she fit in his arms, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the warmth of her body against his.
"It's so good to finally meet you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so sorry it took so long, this weekend's been crazy."
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with understanding in her eyes. "It's okay, Max. That qualifying was amazing! I've never experienced anything like it."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Come on, let me show you around."
He took her hand and he was struck by how natural it felt. Her fingers intertwined with his perfectly, and a warm sensation spread from their joined hands throughout his body.
They strolled through the paddock, Max pointing out the various team motorhomes, the garages, and the media center. YN was all wide-eyed fascination, asking questions and soaking in every detail. As they walked, Max found himself relaxing more and more, his previous nerves about their chemistry being gone fading away.
As they rounded a corner, they nearly bumped into Lando Norris. Who couldn't help but smirk at the sight of their hands intertwined.
"You guys met already!" he cheerfully said, "You must be YN."
Her cheeks flushed, clearly surprised that Max had mentioned her to his friends. Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her reaction.
"Yeah, this is YN," Max said, unable to keep the smile off his face, "Meet Lando, the perpetual pain in my ass."
"Nice to finally meet the girl who's got Max reading," YN laughed, and Lando extended his hand, "Quite the accomplishment."
"Nice to meet you too, Lando," YN said, shaking his hand. "I've enjoyed watching you race, I'm a big fan. Congrats on the pole position."
"Cheers," Lando replied, then turned to Max with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, has he bored you with car talk yet, or has he actually remembered how to discuss books?"
Max rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow, Lando?"
"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," Lando chuckled. "Enjoy your tour, lovebirds!"
As Lando walked away, Max felt a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. He glanced at YN, relieved to see her smiling.
"Sorry about him," Max said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Lando has a way of making everything awkward."
YN laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "It's fine. He seems like fun."
They continued their walk, finally making their way to the rooftop terrace of the Red Bull hospitality area. The view was stunning, offering a panoramic look at the circuit and the sea of orange-clad fans below.
"This is incredible," YN said, leaning against the railing and taking it all in. "Thank you for showing me around, Max."
"Of course," Max said, standing beside her. "I'm really glad you could come."
They stood there for a moment, enjoying the view and each other's company. Max felt a sense of contentment wash over him, the stress of the weekend melting away in her presence.
"Max," YN said softly, turning to face him. "I know this weekend is important for you, and I don't want to be a distraction. But I'm really happy to be here and to finally meet you."
"You're not a distraction," Max replied, reaching out to take her hand again. "You're the best part of this weekend, honestly."
They shared a smile, Max was well aware of the butterflies that fluttered on his stomach and the high school girl blush his friends teased him about, but he didn't care. He felt happy with the pretty girl who had been his source of comfort for months, finally face to face.
"You know," YN said softly, "when I made that video calling you a misunderstood hero with a heart of gold, I never imagined I'd get to see it firsthand. But being here, seeing how you are with your team, with the fans… I was right about you, Max Verstappen."
Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. He had always been guarded about his public image, but hearing her perspective meant more than he could ever imagine.
"I'm glad you think so," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You know, that video... it changed things for me. Not just because it led to us talking, but because it made me reflect on a lot of things."
"Who would've thought," YN said with a smile, "When I recorded that video, I never thought you would ever see it, let alone have an impact on you and let alone lead us to talking and me being here."
"Everything happens for a reason, right?"
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ynreadsbooks best experience ever. thank you, thank you, THANK YOU 🥺💙
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username1 OMFGGGG
username2 no one deserved this more than her for real
username3 SHE MET MAX TOO?? DESERVED
redbullracing Come back soon! 😉
username4 red bull finally inviting people who actually love the sport
username5 GIRL WE NEED A VLOGGGG
username6 omg how did this happen spiiiill
↳ ynreadsbooks let's say i got invited by the world champion
↳ username1 WTF
↳ username2 so MAX invited her not redbull help he really did become a fan after that video
danielricciardo Hope to see you around soon, love ! 👀
↳ username3 how do i sign up for this
username7 THAT PIC OF MAX IS SO BOYFRIEND CODED
maxversteppen1 Thank you so much for coming and making this day special ☺️
↳ username1 OMG MAX
↳ username2 i'd be screaming if i was her
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maxverstappen1 Enjoyed every moment in Zandvoort with this amazing atmosphere and the best company 🧡
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username1 KIIING
username2 how can a man be so babygirl
username3 all smiles even tho he finished p2
danielricciardo 🦁🦁
landonorris Simply lovely
↳ username1 menace
username4 bro who got you smiling like that
ynreadsbooks ❤️
↳ username2 biggest max girlie
↳ username3 WE NEED THAT VLOG
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When it came time for YN to leave the Netherlands, Max insisted on driving her to the airport himself. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence and soft conversation, both of them trying to stretch out their remaining time together.
Despite their short time together, Max found himself completely smitten, captivated by YN's intelligence, humor, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about books or reacted to the thrill of the race.
He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was head over heels for her.
As they stood in the departure terminal, Max felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He hesitated, his heart racing, but ultimately settled for a long, warm hug, breathing in her scent and committing it to memory. As he watched her walk through security, he already found himself missing her presence.
Now, a week later, Max was in Monza for the Italian Grand Prix. The day had been busy with media commitments and team meetings. Finally back in the quiet of his motorhome, Max flopped onto the couch, feeling drained but content. Without thinking, he reached for his phone and hit the FaceTime button next to YN's name.
Her smiling face appeared on the screen, and Max felt an immediate surge of warmth.
"Hey, you," she said, her voice soft and welcoming even through the phone's speakers.
"Hey," Max replied, unable to keep the grin off his face. "How's your day been?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Editing videos, reading, missing the excitement of the paddock," YN teased. "How about you? Surviving the media circus?"
"Barely," Max groaned dramatically, "I swear, if I have to answer one more question about RedBull and their big mess, I might go mad."
YN laughed, the sound making Max's heart skip a beat. "Poor Max. Whatever shall we do to take your mind off your beloved team?"
"Well," Max said, shifting to get more comfortable, "I've been reading that new sci-fi book you recommended. 'The Martian-like Odyssey to Titan,' or whatever it's called."
"'Project Hail Mary,'" she corrected, "And? What do you think so far?"
"It's incredible!" Max's eyes lit up, "I mean, the science is fascinating, and the way the main character problem-solves is just... I don't know, it reminds me a bit of what we do in racing, you know? Constantly adapting, finding solutions on the fly."
"That's exactly why I thought you'd like it! The way Andy Weir writes about scientific problem-solving is so engaging."
They dove into an animated discussion about the book, Max marveling at how easily conversation flowed between them, how YN's passion for books was infectious. As they talked, a thought that had been brewing in Max's mind for days suddenly surfaced.
"YN," Max said, his voice softer than before. "There's actually something I've been wanting to ask you."
"Oh? What is it, Max?" she tilted her head, curiosity evident in her expression.
Max took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he was about to qualify for a crucial race. "Well, I was wondering... have you ever been to Monaco?"
"No, actually, I haven't," YN's eyebrows raised in surprise, "It's always been on my travel wish list, though. Why do you ask?"
Max felt his heart rate pick up. He'd rehearsed this moment in his head countless times over the past few days, but now that it was here, he found himself fumbling for words.
"Well, you see, I have a two-week break coming up before the Baku GP, and I was thinking... maybe... if you're free, of course, and if you'd like to... you could come visit me in Monaco?"
The words tumbled out faster than he intended, and Max felt a blush creeping up his neck. He watched YN's face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. His mind raced with possibilities - what if she said no? What if this was too forward?
YN's eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. "Oh, Max, that's... wow. That's really sweet of you to offer."
Max, sensing a hint of hesitation, quickly added, "You could stay at my place. I have plenty of room, and it would be great to have you around. Plus I have two adorable cats that I'm sure you'd love."
YN's expression softened, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in her eyes. "That sounds amazing, Max. But… are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on your personal space or your time off."
Truth was, Max wanted to spent every free moment he had with her, but he wasn't sure how to let her know without sounding too forward or like a creep, so he just pressed on.
"You wouldn't be imposing at all, I promise. I really want us to spend more time together, away from the craziness of the race weekends. And I'd love to show you around Monaco."
He watched as YN bit her lip, considering his offer. The silence stretched for a moment, and Max found himself holding his breath.
"If you're not comfortable staying at my place," he added quickly, "I could book you a hotel room, or there are some great Airbnbs with amazing views of the harbor. Whatever makes you feel most at ease. I just… I really want to see you again."
As he spoke, Max realized just how true his words were. The thought of having YN in his space, sharing meals, exploring the city together - it filled him with a warmth he couldn't quite describe. It was more than just attraction; there was a comfort in her presence that he craved.
YN smiled, a warm look in her eyes. "You really mean that, don't you?"
"I do. Look, I know it might seem like a big ask, but I just... I can't stop thinking about how much fun we have together. And Monaco is beautiful this time of year. We could go for drives along the coast, have dinner at some amazing restaurants, or just relax by the pool if you prefer. No pressure, just... us. And well, the cats."
Max held his breath, waiting for her response. The thought of having YN in Monaco, of being able to spend uninterrupted time with her away from the pressures of the race weekend, made his heart soar. He imagined showing her his favorite spots in the city, maybe taking her out on his boat, or just lounging by the pool and talking for hours.
"Alright, Verstappen, you've convinced me. But I have one condition."
"Name it." Max grinned, relief and excitement washing over him.
"If I'm staying at your place, you have to let me cook my infamous waffles for breakfast. They're a secret family recipe, and I guarantee they'll be the best you've ever tasted."
"Deal," Max's smile widened, a burst of joy exploding in his chest. "But I warn you, I take my waffles very seriously. They better live up to the hype."
"Oh, they will. And I can't wait to meet the cats."
As they continued to chat and make plans for YN's visit, Max felt a warmth spreading through his chest. The prospect of having YN in his home, of waking up and knowing she was just in the next room, of being able to spend lazy mornings together over homemade waffles - it all seemed almost too good to be true.
He found himself imagining what it would be like to have her there. Would she curl up on his couch with a book? Would they watch the sunset from his terrace? Would he finally get the courage to kiss her?
The thought made his heart race. He remembered the moment at the airport when he had wanted so badly to kiss her goodbye. This time, he promised himself, he wouldn't let the opportunity pass by.
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The day of YN's arrival in Monaco had finally come, and Max felt like a giddy teenager preparing for his first date.
In the days leading up to YN's visit, Max had found himself unusually preoccupied with preparations. He wanted everything to be perfect for YN's stay. He'd bought new sheets for the guest bedroom, making sure they were the softest he could find. He'd stocked the fridge with an array of foods, unsure of her preferences but making sure to have options. He'd even gone so far as to buy a small collection of books he thought she might enjoy, arranging them carefully on the nightstand in her room.
The morning of her arrival, Max woke up early, his stomach a knot of excitement and nerves. He double-checked everything one last time - fresh towels in the bathroom, extra toiletries in case she forgot anything, a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter to brighten up the space. He felt almost silly with how much effort he was putting in, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted everything to be perfect for the girl he was smitten with.
As the time to leave for the airport approached, Max found himself pacing, checking his watch every few minutes. He'd planned the route to the airport meticulously, factoring in potential traffic to make sure he'd be there in plenty of time. Just as he was about to grab his keys and head out, the doorbell rang.
Confused, Max paused. He wasn't expecting anyone - he'd made sure to clear his schedule completely for YN's visit. Frowning slightly, he opened the door to find Lando standing there, a wide grin on his face.
"Lando? What are you doing here?" Max asked, glancing at his watch.
"What, can't a mate drop by for a visit?" Lando replied, trying to peer past Max into the apartment. "Thought we could hang out, maybe play some FIFA."
Max shifted awkwardly, blocking the doorway. "Lando, mate, I'm actually just about to head out. I can't hang out right now."
"Oh, come on," Lando's grin faltered slightly, "Just for a bit? We haven't had a proper catch-up in ages."
"I'm sorry, I really can't," Max insisted, glancing at his watch nervously. "I have to pick up a friend from the airport."
Lando's eyes narrowed suspiciously, a mischievous glint appearing. "A friend, huh? Is it that your book dream girl? You're flying her out over here?"
Max felt his face heat up, a blush creeping up his neck. He tried to deny it, but his reaction gave him away.
"It is! Oh man, this is brilliant," Lando's eyes widened in delight, "Max Verstappen, blushing like a schoolboy over a girl."
"Shut up," Max grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He couldn't help but smile.
"So, YN is finally gracing Monaco with her presence," Lando teased. "No wonder you've been so distracted lately. When do I get to hang out with her?"
"You don't," Max rolled his eyes, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go."
"Alright, alright," Lando stepped aside, still grinning. "But I want details later, yeah? And tell YN I said hi."
Max waved him off, hurrying to his car. Despite Lando's teasing, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. The excitement was bubbling up inside him again as he drove to the airport.
As he parked and made his way to the arrivals area, Max felt his nerves almost making him want to throw up. He found himself fidgeting, alternating between pacing and sitting, his eyes glued to the arrivals board.
Finally, he saw that YN's flight had landed. His heart rate picked up as he watched the doors, scanning the crowd for her familiar face. And then, suddenly, there she was.
YN emerged from the arrivals gate, looking a bit tired from the journey but still radiant. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and when they landed on Max, her face lit up with a brilliant smile.
Max felt his breath catch in his throat. He raised his hand in a small wave, a grin spreading across his face as he walked towards her.
"Hey, Max," she said as she reached him, her voice warm and slightly breathless.
"Hey," he replied, suddenly feeling shy. "How was your flight?"
Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug. As he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him. It was as if all the pieces were falling into place.
"It was good, just long," she hugged him back tightly. "I'm so glad to be here though."
As they pulled apart, Max found himself reluctant to let go completely. He kept one hand on her back as he reached for her suitcase with the other. "Here, let me get that for you."
"Always the gentleman," YN teased, but her smile was soft and appreciative.
As they walked towards the exit, Max found himself stealing glances at her, still hardly believing she was really here. "So, um, I thought we could grab some lunch if you're hungry? Or if you're tired, we can head straight to my place so you can rest."
YN considered for a moment. "Lunch sounds great, actually. I'm starving, and I'm too excited to sleep just yet. I want to see Monaco."
Max chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her enthusiasm. "Lunch it is then. I know just the place – it has a great view of the harbor."
As they made their way to Max's car, chatting easily about YN's flight and Max's plans for her visit, Max felt a sense of contentment he hadn't experienced in a long time. The nervousness from earlier had melted away, replaced by pure happiness.
Loading YN's suitcase into the trunk, Max caught her eye and smiled. "I'm really glad you're here, YN."
She returned his smile, her eyes sparkling. "Me too, Max. Me too."
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ynreadsbooks roomates for the week 🥺
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username1 AWEEE
username2 those are cute kittens
username3 those look like max verstappen's cats
username4 JIMMY AND SASSY VERSTAPPEN??
↳ username1 how CRAZY would it be
danielricciardo Don't hesitate to shout if he's much trouble
↳ username2 HOLD ON??
↳ ynreadsbooks he's just fine don't worry 😅
↳ username3 IS SHE REALLY WITH MAX??
↳ maxverstappen1 I'm not trouble...
↳ username1 OMFGGG
↳ username4 THIS PLOT TWIST
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Three days had passed since YN's arrival in Monaco, and Max couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier.
True to her word, YN had cooked her infamous waffles for breakfast on the second morning of her stay. As Max had taken his first bite, his eyes had widened in surprise and delight. The waffles were light and crispy on the outside, yet fluffy on the inside, with a perfect balance of sweetness and a hint of vanilla. He'd declared them the best he'd ever tasted, earning a proud smile from her.
The days that followed had been filled with laughter, conversation, and exploration. They'd spent hours by Max's pool, talking about everything and nothing. YN would often bring a book, reading aloud passages that she found particularly interesting or amusing, while Max listened, content to hear her voice and watch the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about something she loved.
They'd explored Monaco together, with Max showing YN his favorite spots and discovering new ones together. He'd taken her to the Monte Carlo Casino, where they'd marveled at the architecture and people-watched. They'd strolled through the streets of Monaco-Ville, the old town, where YN had been enchanted by the colorful buildings. They'd even spent an afternoon at the Oceanographic Museum, where YN's enthusiasm for learning had been infectious, and Max had found himself just as excited as she was about the marine life exhibits.
Throughout it all, Max felt himself falling deeper for her. It wasn't just her beauty or her intelligence that captivated him, but the way she saw the world. Her curiosity, her kindness, her ability to find joy in the smallest things - it all made Max see his surroundings through new eyes. He found himself noticing details he'd never paid attention to before, appreciating moments he might have otherwise overlooked.
What struck Max most was how easy and right it all felt. There was no pressure, no awkwardness. Being with YN was as natural as breathing. They could talk for hours without running out of things to say, but they were also comfortable in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.
As they returned from another long day of exploring the city, both Max and YN retreated to their respective rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Max opted for a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, relishing the feeling of being relaxed and at ease in his own home.
When he emerged from his room, he found YN already settled on his couch, her legs tucked under her, a book in her hands and one of his cats curling beside her. She was wearing one the t-shirt she picked the night she arrived when she realized she forgot to pack pajamas. It was too big for her frame but Max felt like melting knowing she was wearing his shirt.
The sight made Max's heart skip a beat. There was something so intimate and domestic about the scene - YN looking completely at home in his space, in his clothes, absorbed in a book as if she'd always been there.
Max couldn't help but smile, a warmth spreading through his chest. He found himself wanting this view in his life every day - coming home to find YN there, comfortable and content. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He'd never felt this way about anyone before, never wanted to intertwine his life so completely with another person's.
YN looked up from her book, catching Max's gaze. Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Hey. Want to join me?"
Without hesitation, Max crossed the room. Instead of sitting next to her, he surprised both of them by lying down on the couch and resting his head in her lap. He looked up at her, his eyes vulnerable. "Would you read to me?"
YN's expression softened, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course," she said, her free hand moving to gently run her fingers through his hair.
Max closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. He felt her shift slightly, getting comfortable, and then her voice filled the air, soft and melodious as she began to read.
Max's lips curved into a smile. "Emma," he murmured. "I remember you mentioning it was one of your favorites."
YN paused her reading, looking down at him with surprise and pleasure. "You remembered that?"
"Of course," Max opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "I remember everything you tell me."
A huge grin appeared in YN's face, and she bent down to press a soft kiss to Max's forehead. The gesture was so natural, so tender, that it made Max's heart flutter.
As she continued to read, her fingers still combing through his hair, Max found himself only half-listening to the words. Instead, he was acutely aware of every point of contact between them - the warmth of her lap under his head, the gentle touch of her fingers, the soft cadence of her voice washing over him.
In that moment, Max realized with startling clarity that this was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Not just the glamour of racing or the thrill of victory, but this - quiet moments of intimacy, the comfort of being with someone who understood him, who made him want to be better.
He reached up, gently taking YN's free hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. She paused in her reading, looking down at him with a question in her eyes.
"YN," Max said softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm really glad you're here."
She squeezed his hand, her smile radiant. "So am I, Max. So am I."
As she resumed reading, her voice mixing with the soft sound of the Mediterranean breeze outside, Max closed his eyes again, a sense of peace settling over him. Whatever the future held, he knew that this moment, this feeling, was something he'd cherish forever.
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ynreadsbooks monaco you're the dream 🤍
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username1 GIRL
username2 THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY
username3 how do you go from max randomly commenting one of your videos to this
username4 girl we can tell that's max dw 😭😭
username5 YOU OWE US A TWO HOUR STORYTIME VIDEO
username6 anything you want to tell us best friend?
username7 she just had a book and a dream fr
landonorris Has he bored you yet?
↳ username1 IM DYING
↳ username2 she really masterminded her way into the f1 circle
↳ ynreadsbooks he's nice, makes good smoothies 😉
↳ maxverstappen1 Good to know that ❤️
↳ landonorris I'm disgusted
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As the final day of YN's stay in Monaco dawned, Max found himself feeling so many bittersweet emotions. The past week had been nothing short of magical, and the thought of it coming to an end left a hollow feeling in his chest. She hadn't even left yet, and already he missed her.
For their final day, Max had decided to take YN out on his yacht. He wanted their last hours together to be special, just the two of them away from the bustling streets of Monaco. As they prepared for the day, packing a picnic and gathering sunscreen and towels, Max couldn't help but reflect on the past week.
Daniel and Lando had teased him mercilessly about his sudden disappearance from their usual hangouts. They'd made jokes about Max being "whipped" and how he'd fallen hard for his "YouTube dream girl." But Max didn't care. He was too happy, too caught up in the bubble of joy that surrounded him and YN.
As they boarded the yacht, the Mediterranean stretching out before them in shades of turquoise, Max felt a pang in his chest. This perfect week was coming to an end, and he wasn't sure he was ready to face reality again.
Once they were out on the open water. YN leaned over the railing, a look of wonder on her face.
"This is incredible, Max," she said, turning to him with a dazzling smile. "I can't believe I'm here, experiencing all of this."
Max moved to stand beside her, their shoulders brushing. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly, "This week has been… I don't even have words for it."
"I'm going to miss you too, Max. So much. But you know I have to go back home. I have videos to make for my channel, work stuff to catch up on…"
Max nodded, understanding but not liking it. "Maybe you could make a video about 'A Week with an F1 Driver'? I'm sure your subscribers would love that."
YN laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Oh yes, I'm sure that would go over well. 'Day 3: Watched Max eat his bodyweight in pasta. Day 5: Learned that F1 drivers are actually big babies when they lose at Mario Kart.'"
"I am not a baby!" Max gasped in mock offense. "I'm just… competitive."
"Uh-huh, sure," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "Is that why you pouted for an hour after I beat you?"
"I did not pout," Max protested, but he was grinning.
"You know, it's still surreal to me that a random video I published got us here. If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be spending a week in Monaco with Max Verstappen, I would have laughed in their face."
Max reached out, caressing her cheek softly. "I'm glad you made that video," he said softly. "I'm glad I stumbled across it. I can't imagine not knowing you now."
As they stood together on the boat, the gentle rocking of the waves mirroring the tumultuous emotions within them, Max found his gaze drawn to YN's lips. They were slightly parted, soft and inviting. His heart raced as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question in his gaze.
YN's eyes, warm and full of affection, met his. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth, and in that moment, it was all the permission Max needed.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, one hand coming to rest on the small of her back while the other cupped her cheek. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the space between them. And then, finally, their lips met.
The kiss was tender at first, a soft exploration. But as YN's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair, it deepened into something more passionate. Max poured all of his pent-up emotions into the kiss - his joy, his longing, his hope for what they could be.
When they finally parted, YN's eyes were sparkling. "You know," she said, a playful tone to her voice, "I've been waiting for you to do that all week."
Max couldn't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and happiness bubbling up inside him. "Really? All week, huh?"
"Mmhmm," she nodded, her smile widening. "I was starting to think I'd have to make the first move myself."
"Well," Max said, his voice low and teasing, "allow me to make up for lost time."
With that, he pulled her in for another kiss. This one was different from the first - more confident, more passionate. His hands roamed her back, pulling her flush against him as her fingers tangled in his hair. The world around them faded away until there was nothing but the two of them, the taste of salt on their lips, and the warmth of the setting sun on their skin.
When they broke apart this time, both were slightly dazed. Max rested his forehead against YN's, unwilling to put any distance between them.
"I really like you," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I've ever liked anyone before. This week with you… it's been incredible. I don't want it to end."
YN's hand came up to cup his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin. "I really like you too, Max," she replied, her voice equally soft. "These past few days have been like a dream."
Max pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes. "I know you have to go back, but… I want to make this work. Us, I mean. If that's something you want too."
"I do want that. Very much. It might not be easy with our schedules and the distance, but I think you're worth it."
"We'll figure it out," he said, determination clear in his voice. "I'll come visit you when I can, and you can come to some of my races. We'll make time for video calls, and I'll text you so much you'll get sick of me."
YN laughed, the sound like music to Max's ears. "I don't think I could ever get sick of you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "But I'm holding you to that promise about the races. I expect VIP treatment, Mr. Verstappen."
Max grinned, pulling her close again. "For you? Always," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another kiss.
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The month following YN's stay in Monaco had been blissful happiness for both YN and Max. Their parting at the airport had been bittersweet, filled with lingering kisses and tight embraces. They had spent a good hour cuddling in Max's car in the airport parking lot, neither wanting to let go.
"I'm going to miss you so much," YN had whispered, her face buried in the crook of Max's neck.
Max had tightened his arms around her, breathing in her scent. "I'll miss you too. But we'll see each other soon, I promise."
When they finally managed to separate, their goodbye kiss had been passionate and filled with promise. As Max watched her disappear into the airport, he already felt a piece of his heart leaving with her.
In the weeks that followed, they took every opportunity to be together. Max would fly to YN's home during his breaks between races, often arriving exhausted but immediately revitalized by her presence.
Their reunions were always intense, filled with desperate kisses and roaming hands as they made up for lost time. But it was the quiet moments that Max treasured most - waking up with YN in his arms, her sleepy smile the first thing he saw; cooking breakfast together, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes; or simply sitting in comfortable silence, each lost in their own tasks but finding comfort in the other's presence.
Now, as they walked hand in hand through the paddock in Austin for the USA Grand Prix, Max felt a sense of pride and joy unlike anything he'd experienced before. Having YN by his side at a race weekend, this time as more than just a friend, felt right in a way he couldn't fully express.
"This is incredible, Max," YN breathed, squeezing his hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it."
Max grinned, his heart swelling with affection. He loved seeing the paddock through her eyes, rediscovering the magic that he sometimes took for granted.
"Wait until you see the track," he said, pulling her closer. "And the sound when all the cars start up… there's nothing like it."
They paused for a moment, watching as a group of mechanics wheeled a set of tires past them. Max took the opportunity to really look at his girl. She was radiant in the sunlight, her hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling with excitement. He couldn't resist leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.
YN turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. "What was that for?"
"Do I need a reason to kiss my girl?" Max replied, his voice low and teasing.
She laughed, the sound music to his ears. "I suppose not. But maybe save some for later? We are in public, after all."
"You're killing me," Max groaned dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus on racing when you look like that?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage," YN teased, patting his chest. "After all, I hear you're quite good at this driving thing."
Their playful banter was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Oi, Verstappen! Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"
Max turned to see Daniel approaching, his trademark grin in place. Lando was close behind, an equally mischievous look on his face.
"Hey guys," Max greeted, unconsciously pulling YN closer. "You remember YN, right?"
"Ah yes," Daniel's grin widened. "Nice to see you again, love."
"It's great to see you too, Daniel," she smiled warmly. "And you, Lando."
Lando's eyes darted between Max and YN, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "So, Max, finally managed to seal the deal, huh?"
Max felt his cheeks heat up, but before he could respond, YN jumped in.
"Oh, he did more than that," she said, her tone light but with a hint of something that made Max's pulse quicken. "He's been quite… impressive."
Daniel let out a low whistle while Lando burst into laughter. Max couldn't help but join in, marveling at how effortlessly YN fit into his world.
As they chatted, Max couldn't keep his hands off YN. He found himself constantly touching her - a hand on the small of her back, playing with her fingers, rubbing her arm softly. Each touch was like a spark, reminding him of their passionate reunions over the past month.
He thought back to their last meeting, just a week ago. He had flown to her place straight after he was done with some meetings in Monaco, exhausted but desperate to see her. The moment he stepped through her door, all fatigue had vanished. They had barely made it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. The memory of her skin against his, the taste of her lips, the sound of her gasps and moans… it was enough to make him want to whisk her away to his motorhome right now.
Max was pulled from his thoughts by the approach of another familiar face. Charles Leclerc was walking towards them, his trademark charming smile in place.
"Max! Good to see you, man," Charles said, clapping Max on the shoulder before turning his attention to YN. "And who might this lovely lady be?"
Without hesitation, the words tumbled from Max's lips: "This is YN, my girlfriend."
He felt the girl stiffen slightly beside him, and for a moment, panic flared in his chest. Had he overstepped? They hadn't explicitly discussed labels yet. But when he glanced at YN, she was smiling warmly at Charles, her hand still firmly in Max's.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," YN said, shaking his hand.
Charles raised an eyebrow at Max, a hint of surprise in his expression. "The pleasure is all mine. I hope you're enjoying your time in the paddock."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they parted ways. Max led YN towards his driver's room. Once inside the relative privacy of the small space, YN turned to him, a playful glint in her eye.
"Girlfriend, huh?" she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something Max couldn't quite identify.
Max felt a flutter of nervousness in his stomach. "I… yeah. I mean, if that's okay? I know we haven't really talked about it, but…"
YN stepped closer, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "It's more than okay, Max. I was just surprised. We've been in this beautiful bubble, and hearing you say it out loud… it made it feel real in a way it hasn't before."
Max let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His hands found their way to YN's waist, pulling her closer. "It is real," he said softly. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Feels like you're everything."
Her eyes softened, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You're everything to me too, Max. I love you."
The words hung in the air between them for a moment, both realizing it was the first time either had said it. Then Max surged forward, capturing YN's lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate.
When they broke apart. Max rested his forehead against YN's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment.
"I love you too," he whispered. "God, YN, I love you so much."
YN's answering smile was radiant and she pulled him in for another kiss.
"So," he said, his voice husky, "ready to watch your boyfriend win a race?"
YN laughed, the sound filling the small space and Max's heart. "Always," she replied. "My misunderstood hero with a heart of gold."
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5sospenguinqueen · 2 days ago
Text
Taste - Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader
Summary: She’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. When Max and Kelly break up, the pair of you start something sweet. But, it only lasts a short while when your conflicting schedules drive him back into her arms. 
Warnings: Kelly Piquet slander. 
Requested: No, I’m just obsessed with making up fantasies whilst I drive home from work with my music on
Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (yes, I know she’s used a lot but I stole her song and her occupation so why not steal her face) 
F1 Masterlist
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f1wags just posted
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f1wags max verstappen and kelly piquet both confirmed they have seperated, posting a short statement on their instagram stories. the news comes after months of speculation after explosive arguments were caught on camera
3,306 comments
user1 omg did anyone see that red bull admin liked this and then unliked it
user2 thank god! i’ve been waiting for this day for ever
user3 can we see him date someone his own age now that didn’t go after him when he was a teen? 
user4 finally! turns out manifesting works 
user5 he always looked so upset after they argued. hopefully he finds someone good for him
user6 hear me out, but how hot would he look with yn ln
→ user7 like they’d ever cross paths. he’s an athlete and she’s a pop star 
→ user6 yes but my point is that they would look hot together 
→ user8 he did have one of her songs playing in the background of a stream once?
user9 i love how she’s really laying it on thick in hers and he’s just like “yeah, it’s over” 
→ user10 we love an unbothered king
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mclaren just posted
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mclaren we have a special guest in the garage this weekend. thank you @/yn_ln for joining us
6,098 comments
yn_ln thank you so much for having me! i had an amazing weekend but i don’t think i’ll be in a rush to do hot laps again
→ landonorris don’t be like that. i know you had fun! 
→ yn_ln idk who trusted you with a licence but they should be fired
→ landonorris idk why they call you short and sweet :( 
user1 she looks soooo good wtf  liked by maxverstappen1
oscarpiastri it was really fun having you in the garage. thank you for making lando seem tall. now he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the weekend
→ yn_ln f1 girlies, can you tell me if he’s dating the curly haired one?
→ oscarpiastri well played. i apologise for bringing your height into this
→ user2 yes, yes they are, yn
user3 chat, is this real? my fave singer in my fave team’s garage! two worlds colliding 
charles_leclerc omg please stop by ferrari. my girlfriend, alex, absolutely loves you
→ yn_ln come pick me up! (‘cause i don’t know my way around the paddock) and i’d love to meet her
user4 omg somebody tell max. i hope she gets lost and stumbles into red bull
→ user5 my delusions might come true if that happens
→ user6 he saw her when charles was walking her over to ferrari
→ user4 and?! 
→ user6 nothing. he turned around and went back into the garage
→ user7 yeah after he went bright red! 
f1wags just posted
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liked by user8, shortnsweet and others
f1wags only two months since his split from model, kelly piquet, max verstappen has been linked to singer, yn ln. the pair have been spotted numerous times on dates and caught in moments of affection
2,999 comments
user8 yn’s clothing brand liked this! 
→ user9 that doesn’t mean anything?
→ user8 well, considering that is her own brand, and they’re a part of her image, i’d say it means something 
user10 anyone else notice that they’re wearing different outfits in every photo, which means they’re all from different days/dates
user11 i’m going feral
user12 okay but you can’t even deny that this is them because it very clearly is 
user13 people said i was crazy when i talked about these two being together! 
user14 they’re so hot together. i might actually combust 
user15 i’m (s)creaming
user16 the hand holding 🥹 they’re not just fucking
user17 my new otp 
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kellypiquet just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, piquetjr and others
kellypiquet my 🩷
2,987 comments 
maxverstappen1 ❤️
→ user1 aha this is such a dry response lmao 
user2 wtf? i thought he was with yn
→ user3 that was just a rumour 
user4 he looks much better with yn 
→ user5 yeah but she can’t give him the stable relationship he needs so no wonder he went back to kelly. she’s always there lmao 
→ user6 yeah because she never lets that man go. she’s possessive and it’s not healthy
user7 max is so cute with p 
user8 my favourite thing about this post is that all of these pics are old because max is currently in a press conference with his long hair, not these short strands
user9 how could he leave yn like this? they were so cute together 
(comments on this post have been disabled)
yn_ln just posted
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liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and others
yn_ln in honour of my tour starting, please enjoy my new single taste! 💋
14,033 comments
user1 omg a new album, a new tour and an additional song?
alexandrasaintmleux got this on repeat 
→ charles_leclerc this is true. it’s all we’ve had in the car
→ alexandrasaintmleux don’t act like you don’t know all the words 
user2 this was 100% written because of the max situation
jennaortega but how hot do we look 
user3 not kelly liking this! 
→ user4 i like to think the middle picture is aimed at her for stealing yn’s man
redbullracing blue is definitely your colour
→ mclaren she looks better in orange 
→ scuderiaferrari we think she should try red next 
→ yn_ln i’ll wear whatever colour invites me to watch rich men drive around in circles next
→ alpinef1team pink it is! 
landonorris i liked the parts where you died
oscarpiastri oh so you’re allowed to make height comments but i wasn’t?
→ yn_ln please refer to the middle picture
user5 chat, i can’t stop thinking about “he pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue” 
→ user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar 
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yn_ln just posted
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yn_ln i heard there’s some sort of race on so i thought i would show some support. let’s play spot the team
10,001 comments 
user7 omg did you see that charles and alex were there! 
→ user8 and pierre and kika
→ user9 well, we know who got charles in the divorce 
user10 we all know who red bull wants in max’s garage 👀
→ user11 the fact that they liked a gossip post of him dumping kelly and are now all over yn’s insta 
user12 okay but the placement of the bulls has me weak in the knees
user13 who’s your favourite driver? 
→ yn_ln daniel ricciardo
→ danielricciardo showing this to everyone i know
→ user14 does that include max? liked by danielricciardo 
user15 we love a petty queen because you can’t tell me the writing isn’t aimed at kelly and max 
→ user16 and the bull instead of the kiss
mclaren we’re hurt. truly hurt that you didn’t post a pic with our logo 
→ yn_ln you have a whole insta post dedicated to you! 
alexandrasaintmleux the hottest concert i’ve ever been to
→ charles_leclerc still can’t believe she arrested you when i was right there
landonorris does this mean you can come to the race? like you’re practically already there??
→ oscarpiastri i second this
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requests open. i'm just slow haha
coming soon; lewis hamilton baby angst
this wasn’t due out until next week but MAX WON!!! And so I’m posting this in honour of that. I’m just sorry this was planned as angst 😬😂
tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25
1K notes · View notes
solarbird · 1 day ago
Text
For years now, I have been railing against the Republican Party as a literal – literal – Party of Plague. In these closing days of the campaign, they have quadrupled back down on this in ways that will kill millions of Americans.
Not “might.” Will.
Appointing RFK, Jr. as czar of public health and letting him “go wild” will kill millions. Again, not might: will. Not immediately, no, but over time. Trump himself is utterly refusing to promise he and his party won’t ban vaccines and said on Sunday that RFK Jr.’s pledge to eliminate fluoridation of water on day one “sounds OK to me.”
If they do this and make it stick, millions will die. And an outsized number of them will be children.
Courtesy McNadoMD on Mastodon, here are a few of the diseases mass vaccination eliminated from American life, and which banning vaccination will bring back, along with some of their symptoms and progression paths.Howdy folks! Friendly neighborhood ER doc here. Did you know that Trump’s folks want to take vaccines off of the market? That means you can’t get a shot even if you want one. Did you know that the tetanus shot is a vaccine? If you want your kids to be safe from lockjaw (caused by tetanus), you want vaccines to be available. You know what else is a vaccine? Rabies shots. If a rabid dog or bat bites your kid, do you want your kid to be able to be treated before they die of rabies?
Lockjaw and rabies:
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Diphtheria:
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Whooping cough:
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Polio:
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You get the idea, right?
These aren’t the only ones. These are just a few of those less often mentioned in these modern times, because people have forgot they exist.
When I say the Republican Party is a Party of Plague, when I say it is a goddamn death cult, I mean every single one of those words in every way you might think.
They are promising economic ruin and they are promising ethnic purges and now they are promising mass death of children.
All while killing pregnant people for their vile sense of domination, of course. Let us never forget that, since their families certainly won’t.
One of the things their apologists keep saying is that “Trump doesn’t mean it” and “Trump won’t do it,” and “That’s just Trump being Trump,” and they talk about “Trump derangement syndrome,” and say that we’re stupid for believing what their candidate fucking says he’ll do, and meanwhile, they get enraged about shit they completely make up about us and the candidates who are with us.
We react to things their candidates promise. They react to shit they make up wholesale about us. We are not the fucking same.
If only the political press would catch on to that fact.
The very last day of a campaign is a pretty lousy time to bring up another topic, even if it’s not really new. But this is, again, so murderously psychotic that I can’t not bring it back up.
Maybe you can bring it up, too, on this final day of this hellish and evil campaign, this Monday, November 4th, 2024.
Zero days remain.
It is Lastday.
768 notes · View notes
hoshifighting · 2 days ago
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      jeonghan + anonymous sex
— where you discover that behind the scary mask, who's eating you out, is your professor, mr. yoon.
WARNINGS: +18, smut, oral, halloween party setting, penetrative sex, oral [f. rec], dirty talk, edging, taboo, fingering.
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
halloween at uni was always a wild time—like, the one night when everyone just let loose and acted like idiots without any shame. it was a free pass to look either insanely sexy or terrifying as hell, and you’d seen both ends of that spectrum in past years. mostly, you loved it ‘cause it was kinda like a game of guess-who after the party, everyone spending the week after trying to figure out who was who under those masks. and that’s why the costumes just got more and more wild. anonymity? sign you up.
you and jewie, your ride-or-die dormmate, had done the whole horror bit every year, rocking the most messed up, bloodied-up outfits you could think of. but this year you both decided to go full-on sexy for once. jewie was rocking this short-ass witch outfit, all black and lace and pointy hat, and you—well, you were killing it (pun intended) in your killer bunny getup. thigh-high lacy white socks that clung to your skin, corset cinching you in, and this creepy-ass bunny mask that made you look both cute and dangerous. not to mention, the whole mask thing meant anything could go down and nobody would know.
“yo, you really gonna leave a note in his locker?” jewie whispered, eyes sparkling as the two of you snuck into the staff wing, the sound of your heels echoing off the empty halls.
“hell yeah, i’ve been crushing on prof yoon since he walked into his first lecture looking like a whole-ass snack,” you hissed back, your heart racing.
she let out a cackle, almost too loud. “he’s gonna die when he sees it. also, maybe don't bend over like that unless you want your ass out for the world to see.”
you shot her a look over your shoulder, half squinting through your mask. “fuck you, i’m not gonna walk like i’ve got a stick up my ass.”
“babe, that’s your job,” she teased, slapping your ass as you fumbled with the lock on the door. she was always like that—pushy, teasing, but down for whatever dumb thing you suggested, no questions asked.
finally, you managed to crack open the door to prof yoon’s locker, and the nervous excitement flared up all over again. “i’m doin’ it,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, as you slid the note into his stuff. just a stupid little flirty note. something anonymous and mysterious. if he recognized your handwriting? well, oops. that’s a future problem.
jewie watched, leaning against the doorframe, eyes flicking between you and the locker. “if he likes it, we might need to sneak you back in here to leave more. like a killer bunny pen pal situation.”
you laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “he’s not that dumb, but if he was, i’d consider it.”
you straightened up, adjusting your mask before looking back at jewie. the whole night felt like some weird fever dream—maybe it was the booze from earlier or just the high of running around campus dressed like this, but you felt unstoppable.
“okay, let’s get outta here before we get caught,” jewie said, pushing herself off the wall. “i swear if we see anyone, i’m pretending i don’t know you.”
“bitch, please, you’d totally rat me out,” you shot back, nudging her as the two of you slipped out of the staff room, adrenaline still pumping.
you took a long sip from your pouch, the cheap booze hitting just right as you swayed along with jewie to the beat. then, mid-spin, you spotted something—or rather, someone—that made you freeze in place, your lips still wrapped around the straw.
“i can’t fucking believe it,” you muttered, pulling the straw out and sulking like a kid who just had their candy stolen.
jewie gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “what’s got your panties in a twist now?”
you nodded toward the door, where another killer bunny had just strutted in, looking way too damn good for your liking. “look at that,” you said, gesturing with your drink. “bunny? okay, fine. but killer too? are you shitting me? what’re the odds?”
you huffed, feeling your vibe slightly killed by the sight of the other guy wearing basically the same damn thing as you—except he had this slutty, fitted black suit, and his mask was just as creepy as yours, that luscious black hair peeking out from behind it.
“wow,” jewie scoffed, following your gaze. “you’re really pressed about another killer bunny? seriously? it's halloween, dude, chill. everyone’s doubling up.”
“easy for you to say,” you muttered, still eyeing the guy. “you're not the only slutty witch in the room.”
she rolled her eyes, snorting. “uh, excuse me? i've seen, like, five other witches tonight, and one of them even had a broom—a broom, y/n. i just accepted it. it’s halloween.”
it was halloween, and sure, half the campus was probably dressed as witches, zombies, or sexy cops. but still, the nerve of this guy, strutting in like he invented the killer bunny look.
“and, you know what? my panties are in a twist, actually,” you shot back, glaring at jewie, who just gave you an unimpressed look. “like, literal twist. feels like they’re strangling me.”
she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “oh my god, you’re such a mess. there’s a whole locker room situation going on if you wanna fix it. no one’s gonna be in there anyway..”
“the locker room?” you hummed, considering it for a second. “yeah, might as well. better than walking around with my ass in knots.”
you slipped away from the party, the beat of the music fading as you made your way down the empty hallway, heels clacking against the floor. it was eerily quiet outside the main campus area, the darkness swallowing up the noise from the party like you were walking into another world. halfway there, though, you swore you heard something. footsteps, maybe? you glanced back over your shoulder, but the hallway was just as empty as before. shrugging it off, you kept walking.
then again—footsteps.
you whipped around, heart starting to race a bit. nothing. nobody. great, you thought. either you’re paranoid or some dude in a clown costume’s gonna jump out at you any second.
you sped up, practically rushing into the locker room, slamming the door behind you like that would keep the creepy vibes out. with a sigh, you lifted your skirt and fixed the tangled mess of fabric underneath. “goddamn,” you muttered, whistling in relief as the tension eased up. “finally.”
you made your way to the mirror, fluffing up your hair, adjusting your bunny ears, trying to look like you hadn’t just freaked yourself out. but then you heard it again—footsteps. this time, not so distant. real close.
before you could even react, the door creaked open, and there he was. the other killer bunny. strolling in like he owned the place, chill as could be, like it wasn’t the feminine locker room he’d just waltzed into.
“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare through the mirror. “stole my idea and my spot?”
he snorted, leaning against the sink with his back turned to the mirror, eyes just fixed forward, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “stole your idea? babe, i’ve been rockin’ this for ages.”
“you saw it from me!” you shot back, turning around to face him, pointing at him accusingly. “i should sue for copyright or some shit.”
he let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly like he was amused by your little outburst. “you can have the bunny part. i’ll keep the killer part.”
“real original,” you scoffed, turning back to the mirror, fixing a stray curl in your hair. “and what’re you even doing in the locker room? you lost or just stupid?”
“neither,” he said simply, his voice way too smug for someone who looked like he just broke into the wrong locker room. “it was either this, or i piss in a bush somewhere. decided to be classy tonight.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the slight smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah, real classy, creeping around the women’s locker room.”
he leaned closer, still not turning to look in the mirror. “who says i’m creeping? maybe you just walked into my locker room.”
“oh, so now it’s your locker room too? boy, you’re bold.”
“what can i say? bunny privileges,” he said, shrugging like it was the most normal thing in the world.
you shook your head, turning to look at him fully now, sizing him up. he was tall, broad, the slutty suit clinging to him just right, his posture relaxed like he didn’t have a care in the world. and that hair, black and messy behind his mask—well, you’d give him one thing. he wore the costume well. too well.
“you know,” you said, leaning back against the sink next to him, crossing your arms. “if you’re tryna intimidate me, it’s not working. you’re just another bunny.”
he chuckled again, that low, almost lazy sound that somehow made your skin tingle. “maybe i’m not tryna intimidate you. maybe i’m just waiting for you to admit i look better.”
you scoffed, pushing off the sink and standing up straight, close enough now that you could smell the faint cologne clinging to him. it was… annoyingly nice. “please, i wouldn’t give you that satisfaction even if you paid me.”
“we’ll... see about that?” he murmured, finally turning to face you, his body looming over yours. his mask obscured most of his face, but his eyes locked onto yours, like he could see right through the sass.
and there it was. that thing on your lower stomach that snuck up on you out of nowhere. “you really think you can handle me, bunny?” you teased.
he didn’t flinch. his lips twitched into a grin under the mask.
“handle you?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave. “baby, i’m just getting started.”
you raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little closer, testing him, seeing how far you could push. “then show me what you got.”
his hand was on you in a second, pulling you toward him with a firm grip on your waist, his breath hot through the mask. and suddenly, the empty locker room didn’t feel so empty anymore. his other hand slid down, grazing your thigh before hiking your skirt up. “you sure you wanna play this game?” he cooed, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
you let out a breathy laugh, your hands fisting into the fabric of his suit. “you started it.”
“yeah?” his grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, your bodies fitting together too perfectly. “then let me finish it.”
he leaned in for the kiss, but both of you realized, almost at the same time, that the stupid mask was in the way. your lips collided with the hard plastic, and for a second, it was awkward as hell—until you both burst into laughter. “yeah, that’s not gonna work,” you muttered, shaking your head.
“guess we’ll just have to improvise,” he murmured back, and before you knew it, he had spun you around, pressing your hips firmly against the cold sink. the chill of the ceramic made you gasp, but it was nothing compared to the way his fingers slid under the elastic of your garter, pulling it away from your skin before letting it snap back on ur skin.
“fuck,” you hissed, as the sting amde your pussy drool. he was watching you through that damn mask, his fingers traced the hem of your skirt before he flipped it over your lower back, exposing the white lacy set you’d chosen to match the whole killer bunny thing.
“fuckin’ cute,” he growled as he took in the sight of your barely-there panties and thigh-highs. “you really wore this for halloween? shit’s a fuckin’ joke,”
the degradation in his tone made your cheeks burn, you bit down on your lip, trying to keep your composure, he noticed everything.
“what’s the matter?” he asked, mock concern as his hands skimmed over your thighs, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp again. “you like being called cute while i fuck you up?”
you didn’t even have time to respond before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down painfully slow, the lace barely clinging to your hips before he let them drop to your ankles. you kicked them off instinctively, your breath hitching when you saw him bend down slightly, he picked them up off the floor, turning the flimsy lace in his fingers for a second before shoving them deep into his pocket.
“gonna keep these,” he muttered, half to himself, half to you. standing up straight again. his hands, slid up your legs, spreading them just a bit more. the rough pads of his fingers brushed against the inside of your thighs, teasing you, waiting for you to beg, or break.
and god, you were close to breaking already.
one hand held your waist firmly in place, pressing you harder against the sink, while the other slipped between your legs, his fingers sliding against your wetness with an agonizing slowness.
“oh.. all soaked already?” he muttered, like he knew exactly how ruined you were just from his touch. “and we haven’t even started. you’ve been thinking about this? about me bending you over, fingers deep in this pretty little pussy?”
you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as his middle and ring fingers dipped inside, your pussy swallow him immediately, even when the skin burns a little with the stretch. his long fingers immediately finding that sweet, squishy spot, for a moment, resting the fingers there.
he kept the pads of his fingers facing down, rubbing slow, tight circles against that sensitive spot, making you clench around him. you've never been stimulated like this, it looked so different and knowing for a college boy. the sensation was enough to make your knees weak, but his grip on your hips kept you steady, held in place as he worked you open.
he leaned down, the mask still in place, but you could feel the heat of him behind you. “you hear that? hear how fucking wet you are? all for me, huh?”
you did, in fact, it echoed in the empty locker room, as you try to be quiet. but you moaned in response, your head falling forward, resting on your arms as you tried to catch your breath. every stroke of his fingers had your pussy tightening, thighs shaking, and you were half-sure you’d collapse if it weren’t for the him keeping you upright.
his other hand moving up your back just enough so he could press his lips against your bare shoulder. you felt him lift the mask just slightly, and then his mouth was on you, kissing, biting, his teeth grazing your skin in a manner that had you arching into him.
“fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered. “so sweet. but i bet you taste even better down here.”
you groaned in frustration when you realized he was still wearing that damn mask, completely blocking the possibility of him going down on you. he noticed the way you moaned extra loud, probably because you’d been imagining it—his mouth between your legs, tasting how worked up you were.
he cooed, amused by your reaction, shaking his head like you were some kind of innocent mess. “fuck baby, i’d love to, but this mask is getting in the way. you know that.” his voice was so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, like it wasn’t torture for you. and god, that whimper that left your throat? pathetic. even you knew it. you rolled your hips on his fingers, desperate for something, anything to replace what you couldn’t have right now. the wet, slick sound of his fingers working into you echoed around the room, filling the space with a vulgar kind of music that had him biting his lip, watching you fall apart over nothing.
“oh, you really want it bad, huh?” he laughed, and you whined again, the sound so embarrassingly needy that it should’ve made you blush. but instead, it only made you more desperate. his teasing was too much.
“fuck,” you muttered, half-begging, and he pulled back a bit, thinking for a second before a playful smirk took over his lips.
“let’s play a game then,” he offered, your brows furrowed in confusion, but the second he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, you felt your whole body heat up in response. “we take the masks off. but,” he paused, his fingers still torturing you, making your hips twitch every time he pressed just right. “we keep our eyes closed. i’ll eat you out, i’ll do anything you want, but no peeking.”
you hummed at the idea, already thinking of how good it would feel to have him without the barrier of those stupid masks. but before you could even respond, he tilted his head, adding with a teasing lilt, “but first... i gotta fuck you. because you’re so fucking tight, so fucking pretty squirming around my fingers like this.” his voice softened into something almost sweet, like he was praising you, and the way he cooed when you shyly squirmed against his hand, embarrassed by his words, had your body tightening in response. “such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
you were nodding before you even realized, the words barely out of your mouth before you agreed to it. the mask was yanked off, tossed to the side, and you felt him pull away slightly. you didn’t dare look back at him, though—you kept your promise, eyes shut tight, chest rising and falling rapidly.
you felt him shift behind you, the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants filling the locker room with a sharp, exciting edge. his fingers left you with a wet pop, and the sound made you shiver. god, you could still hear it—how soaked you were, how turned on he’d made you. your body reacted to the absence of his touch with a small gasp, but the moment you felt his warm breath near your ear again, your nerves melted away.
“don’t open your eyes,” he warned in that same serious tone, even though you could practically hear the smile on his face. you nodded, swallowing hard, trying to keep still. his fingers returned, now gripping your hips firmly, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, needing more.
“good girl,” he murmured, guiding you to bend further over the sink. your chest pressed against the cold surface, your eyes squeezed shut, but you could feel everything. you were painfully aware of how exposed you were to him, the skirt flipped up, your wetness on full display.
the blunt head of his cock nudged at your entrance, slick and heavy, and you braced yourself, but he didn’t push in. instead, he slid it up, dragging it along your folds, teasing your clit and the leaking hole. the sensation had your toes curling, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “you just gonna rub it?”
he chuckled darkly, pressing the tip against your entrance again but not entering. “thought i’d take my time, make you beg a little more.”
you groaned, squirming under him, your hips moving on their own as you chased the penetration. you could feel him smiling behind you, still teasing, but his hand was firm on your hips, holding you steady as he slowly dragged his cock up and down, brushing against your clit every time. it was maddening, the way he was holding back, making you wait, making you ache for him.
“you want it that bad, hm?” he asked, and before you could even answer, he pushed in, sliding into you with a slick, deep thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs as you watch pitch black. “fuck, there it is.”
you moaned, the sudden fullness overwhelming, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as he held you in place, his cock buried deep inside. he didn’t move at first, just let you adjust to the stretch, but his hands were still moving—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your ass, squeezing hard as he groaned low in his throat.
“ah!–don' squeeze me like that,” he muttered, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips grinding into yours rolling the dick in and out of you. “taking me so well... pretty pussy devouring my cock.”
you whimpered at his praise, your body trembling with every slow stroke. he wasn’t holding back anymore, his pace picking up, his hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing light, quick circles that had you moaning loudly.
the thing was;
his eyes had been wide open the whole time.
he was practically glowing with the fact that you hadn’t recognized him at all. he knew it was you from the second you stepped into the party, making him choke on his own spit, all dressed up in that killer bunny costume, and it made him feel like he was holding onto the biggest secret ever. you had no idea who you were fucking, and that made everything ten times hotter.
as you leaned over the sink, he got a perfect view of your face blushing beneath your expertly done makeup, all those little details you’d spent hours perfecting. the way the light caught the shimmer on your cheeks, the dark eyeliner framing your eyes just right—it was beautiful. even though you planned on hiding your face with that mask for the entire night.
he pretended to keep his eyes closed, even though he could barely contain his excitement. “i hope you don't open your eyes hm? you wouldn't want to lose me eating you out, right?” he’d said with a smirk, watching as you nodded obediently. you were so good at this—everything about you, from the way you shifted on the sink to the way you were biting your lip in need, made him ache to see your true reaction when you finally figured it out.
he could feel your nervous energy as you followed his lead, trusting him completely. it was almost comical how easy it was to manipulate the situation, how horny you were, and he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself.
“you’ve got no idea how fucking cute you moan,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he continued to thrust into you. the way you squirmed made him even harder, and he could feel his own arousal rising at the thought of keeping this secret just a little longer.
“shut up,” you whined, clearly flustered by his words, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly. god, you were adorable. he kept it playful, teasing you even more as he leaned down to press his lips against your shoulder, kissing a line up your neck as he continued to roll his hips into you. “just focus on how good you feel.”
every thrust sent a quiver through you, and he could feel you responding to him, getting wetter with every move. you were lost in it, and he was completely taken by the way your body reacted to his touch. he loved how your sounds filled the space, how you couldn’t help but moan louder and louder as he picked up the pace, fucking you deeper.
“tell me how good it feels.”
“so good, you feel so good—your cock—s'big!” you breathed, and he reveled in the power he had over you. he could see the way your body squirmed beneath him, anguished for more, and it only pushed him to keep going.
“that’s right, keep saying it,” he encouraged, his fingers curling around your waist, pulling you back against him as he hit that sweet spot inside you. “i want to hear everything, since i cant see it.”
he could feel you tightening around him, your that sweet release pulsing, and just when you were about to hit that peak, he pulled out, leaving you gasping “what the fuck?!” you cried, your voice high-pitched with desperation, eyes still closed. he couldn’t help but chuckle at your frustration, knowing just how good you felt, but wanting to keep you on that brink a little longer.
“patience, bunny,” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you’ll get what you want.”
with that, he pushed back into you, driving deep and hard, and the sound of your moan filled the locker room. “yes! please!” you begged, fingers digging into the sink as you rocked back against him.
but again, right when you were so close, he slipped out. “no, no, don’t do that!” you whined, the desperation in your voice making him grin. “i was so close!”
“i won’t let you cum on my cock,” he said, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he watched your expression crumble. your face fell against your arms in defeat, sulking like a petulant child. “why?” you whined, the sulk evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but scoff at how adorable you looked, all flustered and desperate.
just then, his hand tangled in your hair, tugging enough to make you almost open your eyes. the sudden pressure made a strangled moan escape your throat, and he loved it.
he slowly turned you around, guiding you to sit on the cold sink. you cursed under your breath, your legs instinctively spreading wide as you positioned yourself for him.
“this is so unfair, i cant see you...” you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you thought about how you couldn’t see what he was doing. you could hear the sound of your breath quickening as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the idea of him between your legs making you almost cum on spot.
“you don’t need to see it, babe,” he said, all sultry. fuck you needed to know who he was, and with that, you could feel him get closer, his breath hot against your pussy, making you squirm.
“you’re such an ass for doing this to me,” you groaned, but deep down, you were practically begging for it, and you knew it. he laughed softly, the sound thundering in his chest as he spread your legs wider, giving himself a perfect view of your pussy, the folds puffy, and flushed, dripping beautifully.
a sudden creak from somewhere down the hallway snapped you out of the fog of pleasure, and, instinctively, you opened your eyes. it took a second to adjust, to blink away the haze clouding your vision, but then you looked down—straight at him.
and—
mr. yoon?
“shh,” he whispered, a finger pressed to his own lips, a hint of a smirk twitching as he maintained eye contact with you, even as his head dipped between your legs. you wanted to pull back, to process that your professor was there, settled on his knees in front of you in a locked room, but his mouth had already found your clit.
“oh my god,” you moan, in disbelief, in pure ecstasy. he starts sucking your clit with so hard that makes you dizzy, and your back arches instinctively, the sensations overwhelming. your mind races, but the sight of him—mr. yoon, your strict, no-nonsense professor—eating you out is enough to push you right back over the edge.
you bite your lip to stifle your cries, but it’s no use. the combination of the taboo and the sucking sends you spiraling into the orgasm, and you can feel yourself clenching around his tongue as you cum in his mouth, a whimper escaping your lips.
“holy—” you breathe, panting as he pulls away, licking his lips like he’s savoring the taste of you.
he raises up to kiss you, but you back away instinctively, the shock paralyzing you.
“wait, you didn’t like that it was… me?” he asks, worry flashing across his eyes.
your mind is racing. so he was the one fucking you? after the letter—oh my god. “i… i didn’t know it was you!” you manage to stammer.
he licks his cum-covered lips, that sly grin still in place. he steps back slightly, still unsure of what to say. “so… you liked it, then?”
“well, yeah, but—” you start, but the words fail you. how do you even explain this? how do you tell your professor that he just made you come like that, and it was one of the best experiences of your life?
you catch his gaze, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of worry in mr. yoon’s eyes. he's probably already imagining that expulsion letter or the scandal that’d blow up his career.
“relax,” you murmur, smirking as he watches you. “i’m not about to go blabbing to the dean or anything.” he quirks a skeptical brow, clearly not convinced yet, and you give him a playful shrug. “but only if… you get on your knees again and show me just how much you wanna keep me quiet.”
the corner of his mouth lifts. “oh, is that right?” he murmurs, and before you know it, he’s stepping forward, hands sliding around your waist as he leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“guess i’ll have to make sure you’re too busy to even think about talking,” he whispers.
[...]
monday rolls around, and it’s like the entire campus is still buzzing about the halloween party. people are dissecting every detail, trying to figure out who was behind which mask. you’re sitting at your desk, pretending to read the same damn paragraph for the fifth time, but let’s be real—there’s only one thing on your mind: mr. yoon’s dick.
jeonghan’s up at the front, leaning against his desk, teaching as if nothing happened, and you can barely keep a straight face. every time you glance up, you can’t help but picture the way he looked at you, the feel of his hands, his mouth… yeah, not the kind of thoughts you should be having in the middle of class.
the bell finally rings, snapping you out of it as everyone starts packing up. your friend pauses by the door, waiting, but just as you’re about to leave, mr. yoon clears his throat.
“y/n,” he says, there’s that hint of something under it, something only you would catch. “stay a moment, would you?”
you wave your friend off, muttering something about catching up later. she glances between the two of you and, of course, shoots you a knowing smile before shutting the door on her way out. it’s just you and jeonghan now, the room empty and quiet, his gaze pinned on you.
he raises an eyebrow, and his eyes flick towards the closed door. “should i be worried about that smile she gave you?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
you blink, caught off guard. “no! no one knows about… us,” you insist, a bit too quickly.
he scoffs, giving you this look like he’s amused but skeptical. “oh, i know that,” he says smoothly, but then he taps his finger on his desk. “but she definitely knows… about this.”
with a dramatic flourish, he slides open a drawer and pulls out the letter. your stomach drops as he lays it out on his desk for you to see, the unmistakable swoop of your handwriting there in all its glory, complete with little heart and butterfly stickers surrounding a mortifyingly filthy sentence.
“wanna feel your cock hitting the deepest part of my pussy until i can’t even remember my name.”
you freeze, face heating up instantly. oh, god. did you really write that?
he chuckles softly, watching you squirm as you avoid his gaze, suddenly very interested in the stack of textbooks on his desk. you press your lips together, practically biting down to keep from making any sound, because your brain is malfunctioning.
“so,” he murmurs, “did you really mean every word?”
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21st-century-minutiae · 1 day ago
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Star Wars is a late twentieth century, early twenty-first century science fiction/space opera media franchise of great acclaim. While the vast majority of characters in the setting make use of classic sci-fi technology such as robots, laser guns, and starships, the main protagonists and antagonists usually belong to a monastic order or spiritual cult respectively, and make use of mysticism and alchemy to great effect.
Due to the popularity of the franchise, the above poster would have been very well aware of the existence of Star Wars. The post exists because of said awareness, seeking engagement by pretending to not be aware. This is a variation of "Cunningham's Law," which, in its basic form, states that the best way to get an answer on the internet is not to ask the question but instead post the wrong answer and get corrected. By making a general vague post that invites correction or clarification, the above poster can expect to get a large amount of interaction from people pointing out Star Wars directly, or participating in the joke.
they should make a sci-fi series where everyone uses guns and traditional sci-fi technology, but the most powerful characters use swords and magic instead
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Obligatory ONE TIME fanart for a show I watched to take a break from rewatching Gravity Falls 🙏
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pedroscurls · 2 days ago
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runaway bride (one-shot)
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summary: on the day of your wedding, you find out that your maid of honor and husband-to-be has been hooking up behind your back... and you run directly into the arms of a stranger to help you cope with the sudden betrayal. pairing: old man!logan x fem!reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni), oral - f receiving, dirty talk, manhandling, light choking, unprotected p in v sex (be safe folks!), doggy style, cowgirl, public sex in his limo, creampie but logan just keeps going, mentions of cheating (but not from logan), toxic relationship / friendship, implied age gap (but no mention of how old reader is), no use of y/n. word count: 3.6k a/n: ok, this is complete filth. i'm not even sure how this story came about or how it even came to mind, but here it is... i wanted to write old man logan so badly so what better way to do that is to write a smutty one-shot???
“Are you fucking serious?!” you exclaim, having opened the door to see your fiancé and your maid of honor in a heated kiss, hands exploring each other’s bodies. They both pull away from each other abruptly, eyes widening as the sudden realization of getting caught now settling in.
“Baby, it’s not–”
“Fucking save it.” You remove your engagement ring and toss it in his general direction, tears trickling the corners of your eyes. 
Your best friend tries to step forward, but you raise your hand in the air and glare at her. “Don’t fucking get near me or I will lay you on your ass.”
“I’m sorry–” your fiancé begins to say.
“We’re done.” you interrupt, anger fuming in your veins. “You can go out there and tell everyone that the wedding’s canceled because fuck you,” you tell him and then point to your maid of honor, your best friend of over fifteen years. “And fuck you.” 
You don’t even bother to hear their protests, already having turned on your heel and left the building without telling anyone. You see two limos parked out front, knowing that one belonged to your bridal party and the other belonging to your fiancé and his groomsmen. You don’t have time to think which one was the limo you rode in, already wanting to leave far, far away from here. 
Pulling open the door, you slide inside and then finally allow yourself to let the tears fall. You bury your face in your hands, your breaths coming in pants. 
“Just– Just take me anywhere else but here,” you tell the driver, looking up and expecting to see the same driver from this morning. When you realize it’s someone else entirely, you bite your lower lip and shake your head. Of fucking course you chose the limo that your fiancé had been in.
“A bit early to be leaving your own wedding, isn’t it?” he says, looking at you from the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, well, the wedding is off. Can you just take me away from here?” 
Logan clears his throat. It doesn’t take a genius to know what might have happened, but he also knows that you’re not the one who he’s meant to drive and he’s certainly aware that you aren’t the one who’s going to be paying him either. 
“Listen, darlin’, I’m supposed to be driving the groom and–”
“Well, he can go fuck himself. Can you please just drive?”
“Last I checked, he’s paying me and you ain’t.”
“Oh, he’s gonna still pay you. Now, drive.” you tell him, holding his gaze. “Please.”
Logan stares at you. He isn’t sure what exactly happened, but based on the conversations he heard the groom and groomsmen having earlier that morning, he has some idea that it had to do with the groom cheating on you. He just lets out a grunt and then starts the engine, pulling away from the curb and driving away from the venue.
He doesn’t know where he’s supposed to go or where you want to go, so he just drives. Logan continuously looks at you from the rearview mirror, now fully taking in your features. Logan wasn’t a man who ever cheated on a woman he was with; he’s always been so loyal, especially to the ones he cares about the most. He never understood why men (and women) cheat, why they just couldn’t end the relationship if they were no longer happy. 
He hears you sniffling from the backseat and Logan slowly comes to a stop at a red light. He turns his head to look at you from over his shoulder. “Bub, you gotta tell me where you wanna go or else I’m just gonna keep charging him.”
“Good. Let’s take a trip to fucking Mexico and make him pay for it,” you say through gritted teeth. 
Logan lets out an amused chuckle and then presses lightly on the gas once the light turns green. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he uses his free hand to enter Mexico on his phone and–
“Wait, I wasn’t serious.”
“No? Then, where do you wanna go, darlin’?”
“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Anywhere but here.” you mumble to yourself.
Logan nods to himself and then sets his focus on the road ahead of him. He doesn’t know where to go, but he does find that he doesn’t want this ride to end. Even in the silence, he finds your presence soothing, comforting. He knows you’re having a shitty day – after all, you probably had woken up this morning expecting to be married by the end of today. 
He does keep stealing glances at you, finding you completely captivating. Even when your eyes meet his from the rearview mirror, Logan feels like he had been caught staring and a blush slowly blooms across the side of his neck. He’s too old to be feeling like this, like some kind of a teenager with a crush on the most beautiful girl who’s out of his league.
“How about some food?” Logan asks after driving for about twenty minutes. “Are you hungry?” 
“No.”
“Okay,” he sighs. “Wanna go to a bar? Drink your problems away?”
“No.”
Logan tightens his jaw and then pulls into a gas station, putting the car in park as he turns around to look at you. You bite your lower lip, getting a good view of just how handsome your driver is. He’s definitely older than you, gray in his beard and hair, crow’s feet at his eyes, but you can’t help the attraction you feel towards him. Suddenly, you’re well aware that you’re staring too long at him because when you finally meet his eyes, he’s smirking. 
“Why’d we stop?” you ask.
“Gotta fill up, especially if I don’t know how long I’ll be driving you around,” Logan replies. “You want anything from inside?” 
Just as the question leaves his lips, you climb out from the backseat and walk inside. Logan sighs and steps out of the limo as he follows you into the small store. He towers over you and he can’t help but get a good look at the dress you’re wearing. You look so angelic, so beautiful and serene – how could anyone think that there’s better than you? 
“Get whatever you want,” Logan calls out and you suddenly turn around to look up at him. He watches your lower lip pull itself between your teeth, sees your eyes take in his frame from top to bottom, and suddenly, he feels very shy under your gaze. Logan clears his throat, eyes narrowing. “What?” 
“Nothing,” you say, tilting your head up at him. “Just didn’t think… Well, not all limo drivers look like you.” 
“Not all limo drivers are like me either,” he mutters to himself. “Right. I’ll be up at the front. Just meet me there once you’re ready.” Then, Logan turns on his heel and slowly limps his way to the front, only glancing over his shoulder to briefly look at you. Your back’s already turned as you reach for a few items in the freezer section. 
After a few minutes, you meet Logan at the front of the store and drop two bottles of water and a cherry-flavored popsicle. Logan eyes you suspiciously, but you keep your eyes trained on your feet. He has to wonder if your mind is drifting to your fiancé. Once Logan pays the cashier, he motions for you to walk ahead of him with a slight nod and then he follows you outside. Logan quickly limps to the door and opens it for you, staring down at you. 
“Here,” you tell him, handing him one of the bottle of waters. 
Logan arches a brow. “Thanks,” he mumbles, the close proximity almost making him weak in the knees. His eyes deviate to your cleavage, clearing his throat when his mind begins to drift. All Logan can think about is seeing you come undone underneath him, trembling and moaning because of him. He has to take a step back, has to create some distance between your bodies. 
You then remove the wrapping of the popsicle and then wrap your lips around it, the deep red popsicle now coloring your lips. You keep your eyes locked on his and smile mischievously before you climb back inside. Logan shuts the door once you’re inside, the image of your lips around the popsicle giving him a clear image of your lips wrapping around his–
He hears the window roll itself down and Logan quickly walks around to the other side to fill up the tank, not bothering to look into the backseat as he feels the center of his black pants begin to tighten with each passing second. 
Logan hasn’t been intimate in a very long time, his main concern being Charles and his own health, but you… Well, you’re stirring something in Logan that he thought lay dormant. He craves you and he knows that you’re also very vulnerable, having just ran away from your own wedding after finding out your fiancé was cheating on you. Logan doesn’t want to take advantage of you, despite sensing that you might want him too. 
Once the tank is filled up, Logan then walks back to the driver’s seat and climbs in, starting the car. He looks at you from the rearview mirror, still sucking on the fucking popsicle with a dark gaze in your eyes. 
“Where to?” he says, not realizing how quiet his voice comes out.
“Anywhere.”
“Making it real difficult for me, bub.”
You pull the popsicle away from your mouth a quiet pop! and then lets a small smile line your lips, deeply red from your cherry-flavored popsicle. Logan’s hands grip the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white and his claws threatening to come out as a result. 
“Fine. How about your place?” 
Logan lets out a quiet cough, not thinking that you’d be so forward and straight to the point. He shakes his head and then looks over at you from over his shoulder. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, darlin’. You’re only going to regret it and–”
“Listen, I just found out my fiancé and maid of honor were screwing around behind my back. The only regret I have right now is saying yes to marry that man and being friends with that woman. I don’t think I’m going to regret fucking you, though.”
Logan isn’t used to women saying what they want as bluntly as you do and it excites him. He doesn’t answer, just begins driving away from the gas station. He’s so hard beneath his pants, glancing over at you and seeing your eyes locked completely on his. He pulls up into an abandoned parking lot and parks the car, thankful that the windows on his limo are tinted. Logan climbs out from the driver’s seat and then opens the door to the backseat, gently reaching out to take the popsicle from your hands and tossing it over his shoulder. 
“Let’s have you suck something else, huh, darlin’?” 
You grin and then gently tug on the lapel of his jacket, pulling him inside with you as you shut the door behind him. You’re glad that the backseat of his limo is actually rather spacious because now that he’s hovering above you, he seems so much bigger than you, so much more broad. Your hands immediately move across his chest, feeling the chiseled muscles underneath your fingertips.
“I don’t normally do this,” Logan groans, feeling your lips move along the side of his neck, teeth grazing his skin.
“And what’s that? Fuck your passengers?” 
He growls lowly, moving his strong hands to your hips and pressing himself firmly against your lower half as he settles himself between your legs. “You always got a mouth on you?” 
You smirk and pull the ends of your dress higher up your legs until you bunch it at your hips, your white lace panties in full view for him. “Only when I want something.”
“Yeah, and what do you want?” Logan asks, hands moving to play with the waistband of your panties. 
“A distraction,” you grip the lapels of his jacket and bring him down to press your lips against his. He growls against your lips and tugs down your panties, hand moving quickly to your folds and running the length of his finger across your wet heat. 
Logan slides two fingers into you, not giving you time to get used to his thick digits. You let out a quiet gasp, pulling away from his lips to toss your head back at the intrusion. Logan moves you to sit back against the seat as he lies on his abdomen, lowering himself until his head settles between your legs. 
Your eyes widen at the sight of him between your legs, your fiancé having never done this for you. When you feel his mouth latch onto your clit, his tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly as his fingers thrust in and out you, you have to let out a loud moan. Your hands move to his hair, gripping it tightly as your arousal drips onto the leather seat. 
Logan pulls his fingers out of you and laps at your juices. He stares up at you, watching as you toss your head back in ecstasy, your mouth agape as continuous moans escape your lips, and he can feel your walls begin to tremble, begin to tighten around his tongue. Logan knows his joints and muscles are going to ache after this, but he knows it’s going to be worth it. Knows that he’s going to want to do this again with you. 
With his free hand, Logan undoes the buckle on his belt, followed by undoing the zipper and button on his pants. He pushes his slacks and boxers down his legs to relieve the pressure against his manhood. He pulls back to look up at you, his chin and beard dripping wet from your slickness. 
“Gonna fuck you now,” he growls. 
“About fucking time.” 
Logan narrows his eyes and moves up your body, hand coming up to rest on your throat. He leans down and gently nips at your jawline until his forehead rests against yours, eyes staring deeply into your own. 
“You like this, don’t you, bub?” Logan whispers huskily, the grip around your throat tightening to add a bit of pressure. You gasp, eyes staring up at him as you feel the tip of his length brush against you repeatedly. The grip around your throat only makes you wetter and you lift your hips impatiently, chasing his hardened length to slide down onto him.
“So impatient,” he grins. Logan releases his grip around your throat and then grabs your hips, turning you over onto your stomach. He grabs you roughly, pulling you back into him as he grips the fabric of your dress. He pulls you to prop yourself on your hands on knees as he kneels behind you, gripping the base of his manhood as he rubs his tip along the length of your sex. 
“Please!” you say impatiently, trying to push back against him. 
Logan smirks and then pushes himself into your tight heat, not wasting any time in filling you to the hilt. He groans at your wetness, at the warmthness of your walls, the tight hold it has around his girth. He pulls back to his tip, only to slam back into you. Logan was telling the truth that he’s never done this before. Driving had only been a way for him to get extra cash, to keep his mind busy, and he certainly didn’t have time for this, but now he can’t even imagine parting ways with you after this. 
His thrusts continue, your walls sliding along his manhood and milking him with every movement. Logan moves to rest his chest firmly against your back, his lips hovering near your ear as you moan continuously with each thrust he delivers. 
“This what you wanted, huh, bub?” Logan growls, gently nipping at you earlobe. “Wanted me to fuck you like this?” He thrusts roughly into you, his skin slapping against yours. 
“Y–Yes!” you exclaim, slowly pushing your own hips back into his. Logan groans, leaning away from you and briefly pausing his movements to watch you move along him. He grunts to himself, lightly slapping your backside as he watches you push back against him. 
Logan watches himself disappear within your depths, only to reappear when you pull back, his entire length glistening with your arousal. He groans to himself and gently pulls out of you. You’re about to protest when he sits against the backseat and grabs you by the hips, placing you to sit on his lap. He grips your dress and rips it in half, causing a loud gasp of surprise to leave your lips. 
“Sorry,” he mumbles. 
“Fuck the dress,” you reassure him. “I didn’t pay for it anyway.” 
Logan smirks and then feels you lower yourself down onto him, groaning at your tight walls wrapping itself once more around him. He reaches around and undoes your white lace bra, watching it fall from your body as you now sit firmly on his lap, completely naked and exposed for him. 
“Fuck me,” he grunts, watching your breasts bounce with your movements. He feels your hands begin to undo the buttons on his white button down shirt, removing it from his body. Today, he opted to forgo his usual white tank top, so when you lean in to press your chest against his, he can’t help but groan at the sensation of your erect nipples pressing firmly against him.
Logan feels your walls begin to tremble with each movement and he leans in to press his lips against yours, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. With one hand, he moves to grip your throat lightly, sliding his tongue past your lips when you let out a loud moan. He stares up at you, thrusting his hips upwards when your body begins to shake and the grip around your throat only tightens a smidge to cause pressure. 
Your eyes shut tightly and you reach down to grip his shoulders, slamming yourself firmly onto his lap as he feels you to the hilt. Logan doesn’t falter his movements though, chasing his own release. It comes out of nowhere there, hand dropping from the grip around your throat to grab his base, thrusting upwards once, twice, before he pulls out to see his release trickle out of you. 
You’re breathing heavily and you’re looking at him with a small smile and hooded eyes. When he looks down between your legs, his come continuing to trickle down your leg, it only ignites a fire inside of him and he suddenly feels hard again. 
“One more, bub,” Logan growls. “One more.” He thrusts his tip inside of you, grunting lowly before he slides back into you, hands gripping the meat of flesh on your thighs as he feels the stickiness of your arousal mixed in with his come against the base of his lower half. 
Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging them down his arms as your walls are already overly sensitive. Logan doesn’t falter, but his thrusts do become more erratic. “Oh god,” you whimper, trying to pull yourself away from him, but Logan holds you firm on his lap, making you take his assault on you. 
You wanted a distraction and you were certainly getting it. 
Logan leans up and gently nips at your jawline as he plants his feet on the floor of his limo, driving his hips further upwards. He does this a few more times before he holds you against him, releasing into you a second time as he paints your walls with his thick spend. He’s breathing heavily, forehead resting against your chest as his hands on your thighs move to rest on your hips. 
“I uh, fuck,” he mumbles. “I should have asked first and–”
“Stop,” you interrupt. “I like that I can still feel you inside of me,” you smile, feeling him slowly pull out. Even though you miss his girth, his release remains and fills you up. You reach down to wipe the trickle of his come off your inner leg and capture it on the pads of your fingertips. You stare into his eyes and then bring your fingers to your lips, wrapping your lips around it and sucking his release off of it. “Mmm, yum.”
Logan growls, feeling his length stir awake once more. “That want you wanted?” he asks again. “A distraction?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “But I think I’m gonna want more distractions from you.”
Logan smirks. “That so, bub?”
“Oh yeah, I need someone to help me through this breakup,” you say honestly. “As long as that’s okay with you…”
Logan nods and then looks down at your exposed front, hand coming up to slowly knead your breast into the pit of his palm. “Yeah, baby. That’s more than okay with me.”
You grin excitedly, letting out a quiet whimper. “So… Your place then?”
“My place,” he confirms. “But how about you ride up front with me?” 
“Yes, please. I do want a taste of you,” you bite your lower lip, hand moving to gently run your fingertip along the length of his manhood. “And I want to do it while you’re driving.”
Logan groans. “Oh, you’re fucking naughty, aren’t you?” 
You nod shyly, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’ve been suppressed,” you admit. “My sex life has been… boring, to say the least.” 
“Blessing in disguise,” Logan points out. “Thank god you’re not getting married to a man who doesn’t take care of your needs.” He leans in and then pecks your lips. “Don’t worry, though, bub. I’m happy to take care of you until then.” 
---
forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl
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gojoest · 21 hours ago
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satoru is big. you always have a hard time adjusting to him when you have sex, and he knows.
he also knows that the first stroke is the most challenging one for you to take, that’s why he goes easy on you. or he tries, sometimes he’s too urgent…
you often tell him that he’s going to tear you apart one day, that it’s a miracle how he fits in that tiny hole every time.
“my cock is made for your pussy only, you will be fine — that’s how god intended it to be”, he reassures you. very smug about the fact that he’s troubling you like this. “…and you were made for me, of course it’ll fit”
“if you don’t take this cock, then who will?” — what a way to swear his loyalty and devotion. you’re the only one for him and the only one he’d ever allow this close — is what he’s trying to convey, in his own way.
“if it’s too big, i can chop it off a little so my wife is happy” — how considerate of you, you think.
yet, you do not dare tease him about it. with the way his head is, he might actually do it, to please you…
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fastandcarlos · 2 days ago
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Meet Baby Ricciardo : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo
summary: after welcoming your first child, you return to the paddock and introduce everyone to baby ricciardo
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You smiled wide as Daniel glanced back, checking that you were still just behind him. You followed him stride for stride as he parted the crowd, allowing you to easily wheel the pram through the paddock as you headed for the garage where you could make yourselves comfortable. 
“How many visitors do you think we’re going to have today?” Daniel laughed, holding the door open for you so that you could walk in, heading straight for his driver’s room. 
You greeted a few familiar faces as you walked into the hospitality lounge before throwing yourself down on the sofa in Daniel’s room. You were already exhausted as you reminded yourself how busy the paddock was, unable to remember the last time that you were there. 
It had taken a little bit of convincing by Daniel for you to return today, your daughter in your company. He’d been pestered endlessly by the other drivers, keen to meet your daughter for the first time, unable to stall them all for any longer. 
Daniel closed the door before taking a seat beside you. “I give it five minutes before they start appearing, you know how it is around here, nothing ever stays secretive for too long.” 
“You never know, they might all be too busy getting ready for practice to come over here.” 
“No way, you’ve got no idea how excited all of them are sweetheart.” 
The two of you made yourselves comfortable, but as expected, it didn’t take long. After just a couple of minutes Daniel opened up the door to see several figures hanging around outside, desperate for their first glimpse of your little girl, someone they already adored. 
After letting you know who was outside, Daniel lifted your daughter out of her pram, handing her to you and instructing you to find a seat at one of the tables of the lounge. As you did, Daniel stepped outside to greet them all. “Do you people not have anything better to do with your time?” 
The boys all shook their heads, peering through the open door to see where you were sat. After briefing them all to be quiet, Daniel invited the group in, pointing in your direction as they all hurried over, fighting it out to be the first one to get there. 
Your smile was wide as you looked around, Oscar, Lando, Charles and Max all stood around you, their eyes bright and their mouths open in astonishment. 
“Wow, look how cute she is.” 
“You guys...she’s adorable.” 
The sound of new voices had your daughter squirming, much to the boys’ delight. “She’s so small,” Max whispered, unable to take his eyes off of her, finding his breath taken away with how tiny she was. 
Daniel took a seat beside you as the rest of the boys all pulled up chairs, sitting as close to you as possible. They couldn’t get enough as you filled them all in and introduced her properly, barely able to get a word out without them cooing over something that she did. 
“Can we have a hold?” Lando excitedly asked you, nervously extending his arms out. “I mean, only if that’s alright, I’d just love to have a cuddle.” 
“Of course,” you responded, carefully standing yourself up, moving over to where Lando was. 
A gasp came from you at how light she was as you placed her into his arms, almost scared to hold her alone with how fragile she was, struggling to keep her eyes open. 
“How did you manage to create such a beautiful daughter?” Oscar jokingly asked Daniel, able to get a much better look at her now that she was in Lando’s hold. “There’s no way she’s got any of your genes going on there.” 
“And she’s not got the nose,” Charles sniggered, feeling Daniel hit against his arm. “I’m only messing, she’d look beautiful even with your snout.” 
After a few moments Lando passed your daughter onto Max who was beside him, feeling your eyes watch over him as they passed her, still slightly terrified of something happening. “I can’t actually believe that you’re a dad,” Max smiled over in Daniel’s direction. 
Truthfully, he couldn’t quite believe it either, it absolutely felt like a pinch me moment. He was loving life to say the least, finding every day that he was learning something new about the newest lady in his life, the lady who had captured his heart from the moment that she arrived. 
Daniel hummed as he draped his arm across your shoulders. “I was never too sure on having kids, but now that she’s here, I can’t believe there was ever a moment when I wasn’t sure.” 
“We always knew you’d be a good day,” Oscar chimed in response, “you’re like an old man and an annoying older brother all in one around the paddock, the perfect qualities that you need to be a dad.” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle, getting exactly what Oscar was trying to say. “He won’t like me for telling you this, but someone did actually shed a few tears too when I was in labour, well, he probably cried a river.” 
“I was not that bad!” Daniel quickly protested as the other boys sniggered at your story. “It was a pretty emotional moment; I don’t know what else to say. You guys all wait; you’ll know the feeling one day.” 
The memory of Daniel would always stick with you, he was an emotional guy, but you’d never seen him so overcome with emotion in your life. He didn’t know what to say or do as his heart raced, struggling to believe what you had done, and that his little girl was there. 
As silence descended, it was soon broken by your daughter letting go of a sneeze. A chorus of coos came from around the group again, everyone’s eyes landing on your daughter. 
“Well, that was officially the cutest sneeze I’ve ever heard.” 
Everyone quickly nodded in agreement with Lando, finding themselves falling in love all over again. “Do you reckon we can all mutually agree to just forget about having to drive a car today and spend all our day sat around here with this one instead?” 
It would’ve been nice, everyone agreed with Charles, but you knew it would never come true. However, the one you thing you were confident of was that you never needed to worry about your first trip back to the paddock as all the boys looked after you both, perfectly. 
“You better be coming to every race from now on,” Oscar warned you as you stood up to take your daughter back. “Do you know how calm I feel after sitting here? I’m going to need this relaxation before every race.” 
“I’m just coming to races for cuddles from now on.” 
“And I’m going to go and persuade Alexandra that we need a baby,” Charles added as Max finished talking. “It’s funny, she probably has no idea who any of these strange men sat around her are, does she?” 
“We’ll make sure as she can, she does,” Daniel smiled around at the four of them. “It won’t take long for her to know who her weird uncles are who drive cars around for a living.” 
“There’s nothing weird about us,” Lando protested, “although you can assure her we’ll be protective uncles who won’t let her ever go near a boy in her life.” 
“Can you please stop wishing my child’s life away?” You laughed in reply, “she’s barely a couple of weeks old, not a moody teenager about to rebel thank you.” 
Daniel smiled across at you as you spoke, “we’ve got all of this to look forward to darling.” 
“No way, she’s staying my baby forever.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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clockwayswrites · 2 days ago
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Uncle John Part 2
masterpost
Even though Bruce knew what he was opening the door to, it was still almost startling to see John Constantine shielding two teenagers on the other side. The oldest was a redhead, though Bruce could only tell that from the fierce eyebrows. The hair of both teens had been shaved so close to the scalp that it was basically nonexistent. From what little Bruce could see of the second, behind the protective forms of John and the red head, the second teen’s head was also bandaged from what little Bruce could see under the hood of the thick sweater.
Whatever they had been through was clearly no small matter.
“Who’s all here?” John asked as he entered, looking around the foyer as he slunk into the room.
The kids stayed close to his back.
“Just Alfred and Tim. Alfred is in the kitchen and Tim is up in his room, though he was excited to know that there would be other teens visiting,” Bruce said, keeping his personage open and calm.
Excited was at least an honest enough word for Tim’s curiosity that Bruce had tone his bet to tamper. It didn’t seem the time to pry and Bruce was sure to learn far more as he set up the new identities.
John’s frown said he knew exactly what excited meant for Tim.
“He can help us instead if you’d rather,” Bruce offered to keep the peace, “but I thought that the kids might enough just playing some video games and enjoying Alfred’s snacks while we worked.”
“Stop that,” John said.
“Stop what?” Bruce said, blinking guilelessly.”
“Making fuck’n sense.”
The kid in the hood muffled a laugh into the thick fabric. The sound made Bruce smile. It wasn’t so very bad if they could still laugh. It meant that there was still hope.
“Tim is my current foster,” Bruce said, as that was the easiest way to explain things. “I would guess he’s around your ages. And I’m Bruce, a friend of John’s.”
John snorted. “He comes off as a rich playboy, but he’s one of the good ones, if you’ll believe that.”
“Thanks for that rousing endorsement,” Bruce said dryly.
John just grinned back, his smile a little more teeth than normal.
“I’m Danny,” the one in the hood said, still mostly hidden behind the redhead. The voice was scratchy, like it have been overused recently. The fingers that clung to the too large flannel shirt the redhead wore were covered in bandages. “This is my sister Jazz.”
Jazz regarded him with frozen blue eyes. “If you do anything to hurt him, I will find some way to hurt you worse.”
“That’s fair,” Bruce said calmly. “All I want to do is what John asked me to: which is to make you new identities so that you will be safe. Well, I would also hope that you both could relax some and enjoy some of Alfred’s cooking. His cookies especially are something amazing.”
Jazz searched his gaze for a moment longer before almost reluctantly nodding.
“Would you be alright with Tim joining you two?” Bruce asked.
Jazz glanced back at Danny before nodding again.
“Let me show you to the media room then,” Bruce said and started leading the group that way. He kept up idle chatter about some of the games he knew that Tim had been playing just to fill the silence and make everything seem less threatening.
It was still hard to speak of Tim like a son, but easier than it had been when Bruce had been the very broken and irrational man Tim had first come to. If Gotham’s spirit hadn’t thrown a fit, if Constantine hadn’t gotten involved… Bruce hated to think how things might have continued. Bruce hated to think what sort of mentor and guardian he might have been to the boy.
It was hard, but it was better like this.
Bruce opened the door to the media room with a smile. “Make yourself a home. I’ll send Tim down and either he’ll bring snacks with him or Alfred, a demure British man who isn’t a serous as he seems, will bring them in.”
“Right, thanks,” Jazz said and pulled her brother inside with her. She closed the door on them.
Bruce looked at Constantine who rubbed calloused hands over his face.
“Yeah, mate, it’s… it’s rough.”
Bruce reached out and clasped his shoulder in commiseration.
---
AN: This was still stuck in my head so have some more! I'm thinking end game Danny/Jason, because it's me, and Jazz/Steph because Steph deserves to be a disaster bi with her own fierce, magic user redhead.
Obvious canon divergence due to the added ghostliness.
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hesperocyon-lesbian · 2 days ago
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Ok I was annoyed by a recent poll, and drew conclusions based on its results, but a bunch of people argued that I couldn’t solidly draw those conclusions from that poll. And yeah, fair enough, it didn’t do much to distinguish factors that might cause meaningfully different interpretations of the data. So, here’s my version of the poll, designed to give clear results, though keep in mind this almost certainly won’t have a meaningful sample size
notes for clarification:
1. for those who don’t know, tma means transmisogyny affected, ie transfems, and tme means transmisogyny exempt, ie everyone who isn’t transfem. If you want to ask for clarification about which applies to you for the purposes of this poll, feel free to and I’ll try to reply, but if you try to argue or quibble about the word “exempt” here, I’ll block you.
2. Unlike the other poll, this isn’t specifying irl friends because I think that’s a pretty unhelpful distinction that might not be as representative of the data
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gwens-love · 3 days ago
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Haunted
Summary: When ghost Agatha Harkness starts haunting you, fear turns to fascination. As her playful charm captivates you, the line between life and death blurs, igniting an unexpected connection.
Warnings: romance and fluff (even though they’re not really warnings)
Word count: 3.4k
~ghost!Agatha Harkness x reader~
Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks.
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~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
It all starts one night as you’re falling asleep. You’ve barely closed your eyes when you feel a presence cold and lingering, like someone’s standing at the foot of your bed, just… watching. You sit up, scanning the room, your heart pounding.
There’s no one there.
With a shaky breath, you settle back under the covers, convincing yourself it was just your imagination. But then, just as you’re drifting off again, you hear it. A voice, low and amused.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?”
You sit up again, heart racing. “Who… who’s there?”
Silence. You can almost hear your own pulse pounding in your ears as you look around. Shadows stretch across the walls, and the room feels colder, but nothing’s out of place. You let out a long, shaky breath. Maybe you’re just hearing things.
“Not going to say hello?” The voice is closer now, low and rich, with a teasing edge. You whip around, looking everywhere, but there’s no one.
“I..I don’t know who you are or how you got in here, but this isn’t funny,” you stammer, trying to sound braver than you feel.
A soft chuckle floats through the room, followed by a faint shimmer of purple light in the corner. It takes form a woman with light, wavy hair, a wicked smile playing on her lips. She’s… floating, her body flickering faintly like a candle flame.
“What?” You scramble back, pressing yourself against the headboard. “Who are you? What are you?”
She sighs, a little mockingly, as if she’s disappointed. “Well I’m Agatha Harkness dear, don’t you know me? I was quite famous in some places.” She tilts her head, looking you over slowly. “And you, darling, are in my new favorite one to haunt.”
Your breath catches, panic rising. “Haunt? So… you’re a ghost?”
She grins, clearly entertained by your reaction. “Sharp, aren’t you?” She leans in closer, eyes gleaming. “Most people would be thrilled to have my attention, you know.”
You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “Well, I’m not most people. So, if you’re done scaring me half to death… could you leave?”
She places a hand on her chest, feigning offense. “Scaring you? Darling, if I wanted to scare you, I’d be doing a lot more than this.”
“Why are you even here?” you demand, gripping the blanket tightly as if it’ll somehow protect you.
“Why?” she echoes, arching an eyebrow. Her smile is playful, and she crosses her arms, taking her time before answering. “Because, my dear, it’s entertaining.” Her gaze trails over you, and you feel your skin prickle under her stare. “And you’re far too cute when you’re flustered.”
You open your mouth to protest, but she just laughs, her form fading until all that’s left is her laughter, echoing softly in the room.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The next night, you’re hoping that yesterday was a one time thing. You even go to bed early, thinking if you fall asleep fast, she might leave you alone. But, just as you’re slipping into a dream, you feel that cold presence again. You crack an eye open, and there she is, perched on the edge of your bed, studying you like you’re the most interesting thing in the world.
You jolt up, almost bumping into her. “You’re back?”
She smirks, propping her chin up on her hand. “Oh, did you miss me?”
“No! I was hoping you’d be gone!” you exclaim, exasperated.
She laughs, as if this is the most amusing thing she’s heard all night. “Oh, darling, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future. But don’t worry.” She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll try to make it worth your while.”
You stare at her, half in shock, half in frustration. “Look, I don’t know what you want, but I have work in the morning, and I need to sleep, so if you could just…”
She holds up a finger, silencing you. “Work? Oh, you poor thing. Haunted and working the nine-to-five grind.” She lets out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine. I promise I’ll leave you alone… for now.”
With a wink, she vanishes, leaving you feeling both relieved and somehow… disappointed.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
She doesn’t make good on her promise for long.
The following evening, just as you’re settling onto the couch with a book, she appears again, sitting on the arm of the couch, her eyes fixed on you.
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” she remarks, glancing at the book in your hands. “You look like the type to be nose deep in a novel.”
You sigh, closing the book and looking up at her. “Can you stop doing that?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Doing what?”
“Appearing out of nowhere! And making fun of me!” you snap, though it’s hard to keep your voice steady.
She laughs, a rich, low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not here to make fun of you. I’m here because you’re… fascinating.” She watches your reaction closely, clearly amused by how flustered you’re getting. “And the way you get all worked up over my visits? Adorable.”
You bury your face in your hands. “Please, just… go haunt someone else. I’m begging you.”
She smirks, leaning closer until you can feel the chill radiating from her. “Now, why would I want to do that? You’re so much more fun.”
The nights pass, and Agatha’s visits become a routine. No matter how you try to ignore her or ask her to leave, she always reappears, finding new ways to tease you.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
One evening, as you’re brushing your teeth, you glance in the mirror and nearly jump out of your skin. Agatha is standing behind you, her face inches from yours.
“Really?” you exclaim, spitting out toothpaste in surprise. “You couldn’t give me a moment of privacy?”
She shrugs, completely unfazed. “I just wanted to see you again.” Her gaze lingers a little too long, and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks. “I must say, you get lovelier every night.”
You roll your eyes, trying not to let her see how flustered you are. “Great. So you’re haunting me because you think I’m… cute?”
“Adorable,” she corrects, smirking. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
You stare at her, unsure whether to be angry or embarrassed. “Well… could you haunt someone else?”
She chuckles, her fingers grazing your arm, sending a chill through your skin. “Oh, but darling, that wouldn’t be half as fun.” She leans closer, her voice a low purr. “Besides, I think you’re starting to enjoy my company.”
You sputter, nearly dropping your toothbrush. “I-what? No!”
She grins, clearly satisfied with your reaction. “We’ll see about that.”
And, like every night, she vanishes just as quickly as she came, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the unmistakable feeling that, despite yourself, part of you is actually looking forward to her next visit.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
You thought the hauntings would stay confined to the nights, but it turns out Agatha has other plans.
The next day, you’re at work, trying to focus on an email, when your computer screen flickers. You frown, wiggling your mouse and glancing around to see if anyone else’s computer is acting up. Just as you’re about to get back to typing, you catch a glimpse of her reflection in the monitor.
“Miss me?” her voice murmurs, smooth and amused.
You jump in your seat, glancing around the empty office, panic rising in your chest. “What… how did you even get here?”
Agatha leans in closer, her reflection on the screen looking far too smug for your liking. “Ghost, darling. We tend to ignore things like… ‘boundaries.’”
You swallow hard, your face heating up. “I’m at work. I have, you know… things to do.”
Her chuckle echoes softly, and you realize with growing dread that it’s coming from inside your computer. “Oh, I can see that. Fascinating stuff.” She sounds genuinely bored, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And here I was, thinking you’d have a little more excitement in your life.”
“Excitement? Because a ghost decided to haunt me?” you hiss, keeping your voice low so no one passing by overhears.
Her voice is playful, a low murmur just for you. “Come now, I thought you might enjoy a little company.”
You glance around, hoping no one notices you speaking to what looks like an empty monitor. “I didn’t exactly ask for company.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she coos, “you’re fun to haunt, and I don’t haunt just anyone.” Her eyes flash with a mischievous gleam. “There’s something about you… something irresistibly adorable.”
You stammer, face turning bright red. “I—please, just… can we not do this here?”
But she only laughs softly, her image flickering on the screen until she’s gone, leaving you embarrassed and flustered. You glance around, hoping no one saw your conversation with, well, thin air.
The rest of the day, you’re jumpy, glancing over your shoulder every few minutes, but Agatha doesn’t show up again. By the time you’re heading home, you’re convinced she’s done… at least for now.
But she’s not done. Not even close.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
Later that afternoon, as you’re sorting through laundry in your bedroom, you feel that chill again. You freeze, already bracing yourself for what’s coming.
Sure enough, she appears, lounging on top of your dresser, her gaze fixed on you with a gleam of amusement. “Laundry day, is it? Thrilling.”
You roll your eyes, tossing a shirt onto the pile. “Do you just have to comment on everything I do?”
“Oh, but darling, where’s the fun in keeping quiet?” She crosses her legs, watching you with a catlike curiosity. “Besides, I don’t see you telling me to leave this time.”
You throw a sock into the laundry basket with a little too much force. “If I thought you’d listen, I would.”
Agatha laughs, hopping down from the dresser to stand in front of you. “Maybe you don’t want me to leave.” She reaches out, her cold fingers brushing your cheek in an almost affectionate gesture. “Maybe you’re enjoying this little game more than you’d admit.”
Your face heats up instantly. “I—no. That’s… I don’t want to be haunted!”
“Hmm.” She taps a finger to her lips, smirking. “Could’ve fooled me.”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “Can you please just give me a break?”
She tilts her head, studying you with that unreadable expression. “Fine. I’ll give you the rest of the day. But don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily, darling.”
And with that, she vanishes, leaving you flustered and very much rattled.
But that “break” lasts exactly one afternoon.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The next day, while you’re getting coffee at a little shop near your office, you reach for a cup only to feel a chill sweep over you, accompanied by her familiar voice.
“Careful, darling,” she murmurs, as if she’s standing right beside you. “That coffee looks hot.”
You nearly jump, sloshing a bit of coffee onto your hand in surprise. You glance around, your pulse quickening as you realize she’s somehow made herself visible in the reflective surface of the coffee machine.
“Seriously?” you whisper, trying to sound angry but only managing to look utterly bewildered.
She grins at you through the reflection, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “Well, I couldn’t just stay away all day. I’ve missed you.” She sounds almost sincere, but her eyes are glinting with mischief.
You roll your eyes, stepping away from the coffee machine in the hopes that moving might make her go away. “This is getting out of hand. People are going to think I’m talking to myself!”
“Maybe,” she says, her voice echoing just beside your ear as if she’s standing right behind you. “But maybe they’ll just think you’re a little eccentric.” She leans in, her voice a low purr. “And I like that about you.”
You grit your teeth, your cheeks heating up. “Well, I don’t.”
She chuckles, clearly amused. “You’ll get used to it, darling. Just you wait.” And with that, her voice fades, leaving you standing there with your coffee, trying to ignore the weird looks from the barista behind the counter.
By the time you get back to your desk, you’re convinced she’s gone again, and maybe just maybe you’ll get a moment of peace.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
That evening, as you’re finally relaxing on your couch, watching a movie and trying to unwind, there’s a familiar cold chill. You don’t even need to look to know she’s there.
Sure enough, Agatha materializes beside you, draping herself across the back of the couch, her head propped up on her hand as she watches you with that sly, knowing smile. “Watching a movie, are we?”
You groan, pressing your hands over your face. “Oh my god, you don’t have to comment on everything I do!”
She laughs, unabashed, and leans closer. “But where’s the fun in that?” She glances at the screen, raising an eyebrow. “Romantic comedy? How… sweet.”
You groan again, throwing a pillow at her, but it goes right through her and lands on the floor.
She smirks, clearly pleased with herself. “Nice try, darling. But I don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily.”
You sigh, flopping back against the couch in resignation. “Are you ever going to stop?”
Her expression softens, just a little, as she tilts her head, studying you. “Why would I, when you’re so… entertaining?”
Despite yourself, you feel your cheeks warm again. “I’m not here to be your entertainment.”
She chuckles, leaning close enough that you can feel the faint chill of her presence. “Oh, darling, you’re so much more than that. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll try to be… gentler.”
You stare at her, unsure if she’s joking or if this is her version of an apology. Before you can ask, she smirks and vanishes once more, leaving you alone on the couch with a racing heart and an undeniable anticipation that, like it or not, you’ll see her again tomorrow.
And, even more confusingly… you don’t exactly mind.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The nightly visits continue, and despite your best efforts, you find yourself… adapting. At first, you still jump whenever she appears, but over time, your reactions soften. Agatha’s hauntings, once intrusive and nerve wracking, start to feel almost like part of your routine.
One night, you’re curled up with a book, trying to ignore the flickering of the overhead light that signals her arrival. Sure enough, Agatha materializes beside you, leaning back against your headboard with that familiar, teasing smirk.
“Back in bed with another book?” she asks, eyebrow quirked. Her gaze slides to the cover, and she feigns a shocked expression. “Romance? I wouldn’t have guessed.”
You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “I like it, okay? And it’s… relaxing.”
She laughs, the sound rich and surprisingly warm. “I’m sure it is. Though I’d think you’d have all the excitement you need, with your very own ghost lover dropping in.”
Your face heats up instantly. “You’re not my… ghost lover!”
“Oh?” She’s amused, but there’s something softer in her expression as she tilts her head, studying you. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to haunt my way into your heart then.”
You try to act exasperated, but her playful flirting has started to get to you. There’s something intoxicating about the way she hovers just close enough for you to feel her presence, but far enough that you can only imagine what it would be like to reach out, to touch her.
Each night, her teasing becomes gentler, more thoughtful. Sometimes, she doesn’t even try to scare you. She’ll sit on the edge of your bed while you talk about your day, or she’ll hover nearby as you work, making little comments that keep you entertained. It’s… oddly comforting.
And somewhere along the way, the lines blur. You find yourself looking forward to her appearances, to that flutter of excitement that fills you whenever you sense she’s near. You start to notice things about her, too—the way her laughter has a warmth to it, or how, sometimes, she looks at you with a strange softness in her eyes, like she’s truly seeing you for the first time.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
One evening, she shows up while you’re cooking, and you’re no longer startled by her arrival. Instead, you simply smile, lifting an eyebrow.
“Hungry?” you tease.
She grins, crossing her arms as she watches you move about the kitchen. “You do realize I can’t eat, right?”
You shrug. “Doesn’t mean you can’t keep me company.”
Her smirk softens, and for a moment, her gaze lingers on you in a way that makes your heart flutter. She steps closer, just near enough that the air around you cools.
“Well, if you insist,” she murmurs, her voice low and warm. “You might be the first living person who wants me around.”
You laugh, stirring the pot on the stove. “Maybe you’re just growing on me.”
She falls silent, and when you glance over, there’s a vulnerability in her expression you haven’t seen before. “You know,” she begins, her voice uncharacteristically soft, “most people would have banished me by now. Or called a priest.”
You look at her, really look at her, and suddenly you realize just how lonely she must be stuck between worlds, visiting people who never wanted her there. The thought tugs at your heart.
“Well, I guess I’m not most people,” you say softly.
She smiles, a real smile, and it’s enough to make your heart skip a beat.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
As the weeks go by, you notice the way Agatha lingers a little longer each night. She becomes less of a ghostly presence and more… familiar, almost comforting. You find yourself drawn to her, to her quick wit and the way she seems to know exactly how to make you laugh. You wonder if maybe she feels it too—the strange pull between you, like an invisible thread connecting you both.
One evening, as you’re getting ready for bed, she appears by your side, watching you with a softer, almost hesitant expression.
“What?” you ask, feeling oddly self-conscious under her gaze.
She shrugs, looking away as if she’s embarrassed. “Nothing. Just… you look nice.”
Your face warms, and you duck your head. “Thank you.”
There’s a silence, and you sense she wants to say something else. When you look up, her eyes are fixed on you, serious in a way that makes your breath catch.
“Why aren’t you afraid of me anymore?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
You pause, searching for the right words. “Because… I know you now. You’re not just some ghost haunting me. You’re… you’re Agatha.” The words come out more tenderly than you intended, and you see something shift in her eyes, a softness that makes your heart race.
Slowly, she steps closer, her hand lifting as if she wants to reach for you. But she stops, hovering inches away, her gaze locked on yours. “You… shouldn’t look at me like that,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
You swallow hard, the air between you electric. “Why not?”
“Because,” she says, her voice trembling slightly, “if I were still alive, I’d kiss you right now.”
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at her, your heart pounding. Part of you knows it’s impossible, knows she’s a ghost and that you’re separated by a barrier that can’t be crossed. But another part of you—a braver, more reckless part—leans in, letting the cold of her presence wash over you, wishing for just a moment that you could close the distance.
“I think…” you whisper, barely able to get the words out, “I’d let you.”
Agatha’s eyes widen, surprise flickering across her face. For a second, you see a glimmer of regret there, of longing for something she knows she can never have. And in that moment, you realize you’re falling in love with her despite everything, despite the impossible chasm between you, you’ve fallen for her.
She draws back, her face sad but softened with a gentleness you’ve never seen before. “You really are one of a kind,” she murmurs, more to herself than to you.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
The next few days, she visits you less frequently, almost as if she’s afraid of getting too close. You miss her, that electric energy that always filled the air when she was near. But then, just as you’re starting to wonder if she’s gone for good, she appears again, standing by your bed in the middle of the night, her expression determined.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she says, her voice laced with her usual bravado, though her eyes hold a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.
You sit up, your heart pounding. “I wouldn’t want to.”
She sighs, taking a shaky step toward you. “You’re not making this easy, you know that?”
You smile, feeling that familiar warmth spreading through your chest. “Maybe I don’t want to make it easy.”
A ghost of a smile touches her lips as she gazes at you. “Then I guess we’ll just have to find a way to make this work, won’t we?”
And with that, she reaches out, her hand hovering just inches from yours, as if she’s daring herself to bridge the impossible divide. And though you can’t touch, you both feel it the unmistakable connection, the shared longing.
Somehow, it’s enough.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
Fin <3
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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 3 days ago
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Imagine: Taking the Pennyworth name instead
(just short for now I'll work with this after I finished my deadline)
I'm thinking of a small AU for this but I always thought what could happened if Reader was an Isekai or regressed in a Neglected batfam fic?
Reader knowing what happens to the story or her future life with these people and they just straight up planned something to stay far away from the family without causing them to become yandere or obsessed with them.
If reader think it through and most possible solution is to stay at the mansion and be discreet as possible.
And the most I could think of is just get adopted by Alfred instead, bcs why not? You get to stay at the mansion, you won't have the Wayne name on you for reasons that maybe you resent the thought of being called a Wayne.
And even if for a short while you can feel like you belong, not as a child of a rich asshole who becomes a vigilante that runs around 'his' city to do his nightly fight with criminals that just keep multiplying because god only knows he has more patience and time for them that his neglected child who rots in an old house that makes the child feel it's their own Arkham Asylum.
Not to be related to a bunch of bitchy brothers and sisters who thinks they're far more important or involved in the family and never thought that just because they 'died' multiple times your trauma weights lesser than them, just because yours is far more tame doesn't mean you don't get to deserve a little love too.
(This is just me putting myself in the reader's shoes because that's really what I do to most of the x reader fics I make)
Imagine reader just straight up ask Alfred is they could be his child or grandchild instead.
"Adopt me". Alfred stop himself from tipping the teapot when he heard a small tiny voice below him.
The butler looks down and sees the old yet younger addition to the family stare at him from below holding an- wait a minute is that a real adoption papers??
--- Tune in next time to when will I finished this fic before another sh8y day intercept this again---
ALFRED PENNYWORTH SUPREMACY RISE UUPPPPPPP!!!!!!
(some of you might wonder why I'm fixating on Alfred being reader's grandfather/father, it's very simple I just miss my grandfather and Papa so now u know, I'm pretty sure no one wondered but here you go anyway hahahaha)
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lady-bess · 2 days ago
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To bounce off this...
I once wrote some fanfiction so angsty and depressing that it had my regular readers of the series crying at the finale (sorry about that, chat). In the fic there were heavy discussions (and literal depictions of) death, and what the grieving process is like for those immediately affected by somebody passing away.
Why?
Because in writing it, I got over a grief I did not know I still carried for family that had long since left this world. In writing it, and describing my version of an afterlife, I helped heal a little bit of religious trauma that I had buried in me from growing up queer in the church.
My partner at the time had asked me, well, why did I write something like that? I had allowed him to read a small part, and he was genuinely shocked that the words on the page had come from my brain. That I even possessed the trauma and emotion needed for what I ended up writing. And, better still, why was it that I still deemed the fanfiction "worthy" of uploading. Even though it hit hard, and had me crying as I hit the upload button.
But in all that emotion was the exact reason I did it.
In my upset over what I had written, I was able to move on from something that had been weighing me down for longer than I realised. And once I got over it, I was able to tackle other things that were cropping up in my life at that moment, and beginning to spiral out of control. I was free, mentally, to process what was currently happening to me, rather than being preoccupied with past events I had not yet let go of.
Once or twice some people who read the fic have asked me what made me decide to make it so sad? Why did I put my characters through so much? Why did I let them die? It's only ever been asked out of curiosity, never out of malice, but my answer would be the same either way.
That fic had value to me, as it's author. And from writing it, and speaking to others who read it, it's also had value to them, my readers, for giving them the good cry they needed. The fact that is was so sad does not take away from its value - if anything, that is what adds to it.
All this to say that we are all different, and there is beauty in that. What is a comfort fic for one person might not be yours - but that's okay. Additionally, don't question why an author would write something dismissively. By all means be curious, and ask questions if you read something and think, "wow, I wonder what their creative process was like!". But never read a synopsis and think, "why would you write that?".
Because in truth, you never know what someone is going through. Nobody at the time knew what I was processing when I wrote my fic, and I was happy I got to work through that on my own without having people asking me why it existed.
Be kind to your authors, and be kind to other readers. There's been a lot of chatter recently about other people slating authors for deciding to write about certain topics/ genres, and it's having such a negative impact on the fandom spaces we occupy and should fill with love and support. The world is cruel enough without us being unkind to one another.
Read what you love.
Write what you need.
Angst fics can help people come to terms with their own grief, begin healing, or give people that good cry that they need.
Smut fics can help people affirm and accept their sexuality. It can help them explore their sexuality in a safe way. They can also just be fun, and having fun is a drastically undervalued way to improve your mental health.
Dark fics can help people face their fears or process their trauma. It can make them feel safer and more secure. It can help them find their courage.
Fluff fics can give people rest and respite and comfort. It can give them hope that soft places exist and that maybe there is one out there for them. It can bring up their mood, which, if they have depression, can be a life saver.
And every fic people write makes someone feel less alone.
Point being, just because a particular thing doesn’t serve you, doesn’t mean it lacks value.
This is not to say that we have to consume all fic uncritically. Of course not. It is just to say that entire “genres” aren’t trash or lacking value just because they don’t serve you.
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butchtwelfthdoctor · 2 months ago
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Ooooh okay!! That was very interesting to read (your missy headcannon), and I agree with your analysis so much!!!
I... did have an ulterior motive and that question did not work to acheive an answer to the actual secret question, sooooo:
I had this idea to draw missy but colours picked from a lesbian flag for you (I had thought I recalled you headcannoning her as one but your response gives a much more nuanced answer), and so before I commit to doing this I wanted to make sure that this would be something you would enjoy?
I DID ADORE YOUR ANALYSIS THOUGH!!!!!
OH MY GOSH NO I WOULD LOVE THAT AHHHHHHHHHHHH ok nuanced analysis momentarily paused lol because lesbian flag missy drawing would be AMAZING thank you so so muchhhhhh :] thank you so so so so much thats so lovely of you hehe
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hinamie · 2 months ago
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