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osamucide · 3 months ago

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⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!

. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!

wc: 5.3k

cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)

reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!

“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”

The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.

“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”

You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”

“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”

But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.

There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.

It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.

“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”

His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”

He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!

“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”

That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.

And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.

“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.

His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”

So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.

And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.

“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”

“Osamu!”

But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.

“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”

He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.

Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.

“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.

“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”

When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!

"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.

"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.

"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.

He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.

Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.

He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.

"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."

He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.

You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.

"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!

You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.

Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.

He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.

But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.

"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"

He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.

You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.

"Unh—ugh..."

You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.

Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.

"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."

You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!

"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"

"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"

Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.

"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"

But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.

"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"

His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.

"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."

And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.

And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.

"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."

And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.

"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹

⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!

You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."

The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.

"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."

He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.

"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."

"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.

You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.

"Fuckin' slut—"

When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.

"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."

But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.

You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.

"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!

"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."

You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.

You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."

"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.

"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"

"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.

You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."

"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.

"I mean, unless..."

Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.

“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“

His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.

“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!

The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.

He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.

I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.

You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.

There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.

Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.

He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.

"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"

You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.

An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.

"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!

You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.

When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?

Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?

"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."

You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.

"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹

⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!

"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.

He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.

But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.

"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.

"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.

He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.

He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."

"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.

Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"

You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.

"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!

“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."

"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."

You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."

"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.

"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."

But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.

"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."

"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."

The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.

"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”

"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.

"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.

"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹

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gguk-n · 6 months ago

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The Exception (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Summary- 4 times Max let y/n get away with whatever she wanted and 1 time he didn't.

I just have so much love for maxie and I wanna show it so it came out as this. Hope you like it!! I hope maxie is only loved tbh

Max was very young when he had moved to a Netherland. If someone asked him when it was, he'd probably never be able to tell. But he could tell you about the annoying neighbours he had growing up. Yes, he did spend most of his time karting and didn't have the time at home or in school like normal kids his age would but the fleeting moments spent at that house in Netherland left behind fond memories that he can look back and only because of a certain little girl with chubby cheeks and two identical braids on either side of her head who had made quite a place in his life. Jos wasn't very happy with Max wasting his time entertaining those kids but he couldn't do much when the children's father was a tall bulky man who could take Jos out in one punch, insisted on letting the kids play together. The tall man had 3 kids Max noticed when he had dinner at their place for the first time; the oldest being the girl who we mentioned before followed by 2 younger brothers who seemed to love karting. They asked Max so many questions about it that they got scolded by their mother for ruining dinner for everyone but Max thought was cute because the youngest couldn't even pronounce karting but had a lot to say. Every time he would spend time with his neighbours, it would always be with the 2 young boys who wanted to learn how to kart better and become like Max like the younger one put it. Even now it makes Max laugh reminiscing about those days. They never really made it professionally though.

2008

Max and the 2 boys were playing around when their older sister asked if they would like to join her for a session of afternoon tea with Mr Whale and Miss Teapot. The brothers made a face of disgust and ran away from her, dejected she turned around when Max agreed. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She quickly dragged him into her room and had him sit next to Mr Longneck, the giraffe. An hour later Max was found in Y/N's room with two pigtails if you could call them that on the top of his head, a tiara and the prettiest necklace Y/N owned. Looking at himself in the mirror he couldn't help but laugh. Y/N on the contrary looked pleased with her handy work. She thanked him for being a good and compliant customer and to come back again if he ever wanted to look pretty. It wasn't easy to get Max to do what you wanted except he couldn't say no to her puppy eyes. She even gave him a drawing of him in his kart saying that it would bring him good luck since she couldn't be there and placed her favourite bracelet on his hand.

If Y/N was to ask him about the bracelet, Max would say he lost it as soon as she gave it to him, but deep down in the watch drawer of Max's Monaco apartment sat a brightly neon pink bracelet with Y/N’s initials.

2014

Y/N had started highschool and remained the annoying self Max had come to love. Her over the top demeanor and affection to screaming at the top of her lungs whenever she spotted Max never failed to make him smile. Having joined Formula one this year, meant Max was way to busy to be home but Y/N seemed to never forget to text him regularly. She would ask him to get autographs of other drivers or souvenirs from different countries. It was a regular race weekend when Y/N texted Max asking him to explain how the engine in a go kart worked. In a split second Max was on call with her asking "why do you need that?" to which she replied "I'm doing a project on that. I even made a small scale replica of your kart Look here!!!" She exclaimed. "I just need to shrink you and place you inside it" Y/N laughed. Max told her not to worry and that he would text her the details in a hour or so. Actually it took a couple hours and Y/N was starting to get agitated and called him back. Max replied with a almost done and smiled at her. He had literally written her entire report for her and sent it to review. Y/N almost screamed when she saw the assignment. She thanked Maxie for doing this for her and that she owed him her life. Max was just happy to be of help, he told himself more than he told her because who stays up till 5 in the morning on a race weekend doing someone else’s project.

He kept the small scale replica of his Kart on the mantle above the fireplace if anyone wanted to know what happened to the kart.

2018

Y/N was freshly 18, so getting drunk was the only thing on her agenda. On a night out, she was so drunk that no one could get her to move because she wanted her Maxie and would only leave with Maxie, she enunciated. Her friend was able to open up Y/N phone and thankfully find a Maxie in her favourite contacts. She called the number to be met with a groggy but worried voice. "Hi! This is Y/N's friend Kate speaking. Am I speaking with a....maxie?" she said tentatively. Max let out a sigh while rubbing his eyes, "Yes, this is Max speaking." "Can you come pick Y/N up?" She asked hesitantly followed by, "She won't leave with anyone but you apparently." Max was already out of bed and near the door when he said "I'll be there in 10, where are you guys at?" She sent him the location and waited for 'maxie'. Nothing could've prepared them for this. They had thought Maxie was a friend, a boyfriend maybe even a neighbour; they did not think Maxie was Max Verstappen, F1 driver for Redbull racing. He apologised for the inconvenience and crouched down to Y/N level who seemed to have realised that he was here. She cupped his cheeks and giggled while turning his head to the crowd of people standing, "Look, this is my Maxie." Hearing Y/N say my maxie made his heart beat faster then it should've, he admits but that girl had a tight hold on his heart and he couldn't really do much about it. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Max asking him to carry her since her legs felt like mush. Max gladly carried her back to his car, as he fastened her seat belt she asked him to take her back to his place since her parents would probably disown her if she come in drunk for the 6th time this week. Max looked shocked and asked her to stop drinking so much since it wasn't good for her. All Y/N could mumble was that the alcohol made the pain in her heart bearable. This broke Max's heart. Who would dare hurt his precious little angel, if he met that guy he was so dead, Max thought. Little did he know that guy was the one driving her back home.

Y/N was a nuisance when drunk, she reminded him of the little girl he had befriended when he moved here. She wouldn't listen to anything he asked her to do that night until he agreed to let her do make up on him which he would gladly agree to, real or not.

2022

Y/N had recently graduated and was looking for a place to stay. It was one of those nights after a fruitless apartment hunt Y/N facetimed Max. He looked very comfortable in his sim racing chair in his luxurious apartment in Monaco having moved recently. "Maxie" the younger girl sighed. "Meisje, what's the problem?" came a concerned voice. "I can't seem to find a decent apartment, I've been at it for months now." she said. Max offered to help her find the right place and Y/N started listing out all the things she wanted in her apartment which was sounding a lot like Max current apartment which was true, that was Y/N's dream apartment currently; after seeing it a couple months ago when she had visited him as a housewarming surprise and even held a party for him. "You can move to Monaco, the house you're looking for is here" Max said. After a long pause Y/N replied with a chuckle, "I don't make formula 1 money. I'm too broke to afford a house here. In Monaco, I'd have to sell my organs to afford a place there." As if it was the most obvious thing, Max offered her to stay at his place and look for a job here.

The allure of Monaco was too much and Y/N was able to thankfully find a job there so that she wouldn't be completely dependent on Max which he wouldn't have minded. Max never let her pay rent, he'd always tell her to cook good food and that was rent sorted.

2023

It was the night of the Abu Dhabi grand prix. Max had just won his third WDC so him and his friends decided to go out to celebrate, Y/N included. The night carried on as usual, Max not touching much of the alcohol since Y/N decided to down drinks like a thirsty person. She was now in the middle of the dance floor making herself familiar with Lando's crotch, much to Max's dismay. He made his way to her and led her away from Lando while she shouted at him to let her go. They were now stood in the quieter part of the club but you could still hear the music blasting. Y/N looked visibly annoyed at being taken away from the dance floor. "You are drunk, you'll regret it tomorrow." Max said. "That's for sober me to deal with. Drunk me just wants to forget about everything and having an eventful night with a guy would do just the trick." she said. Max winced at the words and held her arms so that she could steady herself. "I don't wanna feel like this," was this the alcohol giving her the confidence, "the guy I've been in love with for ages can't seem to see me as a woman. I've been trying for years now. If I walked out naked, I'm sure he wouldn't even be phased." she sounded dejected. "Any guy would want you, Meisje." Max whispered. "But not the one I do" she stepped closer, enough that their breaths mingled. The woman in front of him was driving Max mad, had she not been drunk he would've shown her how much any man would want her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes before saying, "He's so dumb, can't even see the woman in front of him." The statement felt oddly targeted. "You know, he's a 3 time world drivers champion and he doesn't even get that I love him so much." she said while looking into his eyes. "You're in love with me?" Max exclaimed. "I have been since the day you let me make pigtails on your hair but thanks for realising now." she replied sarcastically. "You're drunk, you don't know what your saying" Max replied. "Well, sober me would never tell you this but I love you Max Verstappen. So much that you make my heart beat faster and my chest swell when you look at me. I think about marrying you and having a family with you, but you think I'm joking." she declared. Max couldn't help but smiled, "Tell me all of this in the morning when you're sober so that I can tell you that I love you too schat and then I can finally kiss you." "You can kiss me now" Y/N made a kissy face and eagerly leaned in. Max shook his head and carried her back to the hotel room.

Y/N indeed remembered everything and the first thing she did even though she wreaked of alcohol was finally kiss those soft pink lips.

this is just brain rot at this point. hope you liked it

1K notes · View notes

freakyformula · 2 months ago

Text

Stockholm Syndrome

Summary: Mafia Max kidnaps the reader and tries to win her over.

A/N: Might make a part two... Maybe.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, swear words, mentions of injuries, oral (both receiving), creampie, light spanking....

Word count: 7,7k

The sound of music and glasses clunking filled your ears as you sat with your friend on the balcony of the most extravagant nightclub the city could offer. The menu was filled with ridiculously expensive drinks and appetizers.

You didn't live here, but your best friend Emma did. You two had known each other since you were in kindergarten and spent every day together in school. When you got a little older though, life got in the way and you got separated by university and work. This didn't stop you two, you still spoke almost every day on the phone.

Emma had recently gotten promoted and decided to invite you over to her city to celebrate. Neither you nor Emma had any other friends, it was just you and her, always together.

You didn't really know why she'd decided on this club, but you had to admit, it was impressive with the expensive-looking ornaments and the huge crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the industrial building.

As you looked around, all you could see was well-dressed men and women. You felt misplaced.

"I need a fag so bad." Emma declares and struts off, leaving you alone inside.

Sitting alone made you feel even more awkward and you could see the others looking down at you with what looked like pity in their eyes.

You sipped on your Spritz and looked down, embarrassed. You dressed modestly, wearing an off-shoulder midi dress in white, fitting you perfectly. Emma and you had been shopping for dresses for the occasion earlier that day. When you got ready a couple of hours earlier, you thought you looked okay, but right now, you couldn't feel more unattractive.

A bunch of men barges out from a room in the back, making the other guests quickly move out of their way. The men were dressed in all black and walk up to the bar, a couple of meters from you. You quickly turn around in the fancy leather sofa, not wanting to draw their attention. When you turn around, you notice a man exiting the same door from which the other males exited only a few seconds before. This man was unlike the others; he strolled in with gentle steps, whereas the others made their arrival sound like a swarm of hippos was approaching. And he looked so put together. That suit of his must be really expensive.

You catch yourself staring and quickly look away.

"Wanna dance?" You hear Emma yell from behind. You really weren't in the mood but you obey her wish. You follow her to the dance floor. You threw your hair and sang along to the song, making the other guests look at you in annoyance, but you couldn't care less in that moment. All you were here for was to celebrate your friend and her accomplishments.

As you walked up to your table again, you went by the bar and inspected the menu closely. You decide on a cocktail and place the order.

"This one is on me." You hear, the raspy sound coming from behind.

The bartender quickly starts working on your order as the man looks at him. You turn around and lock eyes with the man you saw before. He gazed down at you and gave you a sweet smile.

"Sorry, Max." He introduces himself and offers a handshake.

"Hi, I-I'm Y/N." You reply and shake his hand. His handshake was powerful, just like you thought it would be.

"Y/N. Beautiful name. Now tell me, Y/N, what lured a beauty like you to my club?"

You're shocked by his statement, which makes him chuckle, but still keep eye contact.

Is this man the owner? But he looks so young, surely he's lying, right?

"I… I'm here with my friend." You say and point to your friend who is half asleep on the leather sofa, clearly completely off her face.

"I see." Max turns to look at you again. His gaze is so intense, that it almost makes you uncomfortable.

You turn to look at the bartender, who is taking longer than usual to finish your drink. Max lingers by your side, making small talk with you and what you assumed were his friends until you got your drink. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your night." Max smiles at you and you sip on your drink and give him a smile back. He was pleasant to be around and you felt a little lonely when he and the black-suited men followed him. You went back to your table only to realize that Emma has dozed off.

"Emma, wake up!" You yell at her. You try shaking her without luck. She was out and there was no way of waking her.

"Fuck, always drinking too much…" You mutter to yourself. Now what were you supposed to do? Before you could think further you started to feel drowsy. "The hell?" You ask yourself as you too drift off into a comfortable slumber.

The sound of men talking fills your ears as you're lulled out of your sleep. The bright light makes it hard to see and it takes a while for your eyes to adjust.

"Where am I?" You ask.

No answer. The satin pillows under your head aren't yours. And you didn't recognize the room either. You were too groggy to register anything about the room you were in, except that it was light. Wait, why were you in a hospital? You try to move your hands to rub your eyes but your hands are stopped. You look up at your hands, they're bruised by the handcuffs around your wrists.

"What the… actual.." You whisper to yourself. Now, panic starts to take over all of your senses and you spring up from the mattress to your knees.

"Help!" You yell.

The room felt sterile, and even if your sight was blurred you noticed the white tile walls and what looked like medical equipment in a couple of cabinets on the other side of the room.

Panic fully encompasses you and you place your legs against the wall to try to pull the metal off your hands. You've quickly used all of the remaining energy. Your eyes water up and you look around for something to help you escape. Everything you see to make you company in the room is the mattress, a couple of pillows and the cabinets.

You cry out and try to remember what exactly happened last night. Emma. Where was Emma? You think to yourself. You had to get out of here. As you're about to start struggling with the chain again you freeze, hearing footsteps and voices from outside of the door.

"Open the door." A familiar voice says, followed by the sound of keys clinging.

You have no idea what to do, so you just collapse on the mattress, pretending to be asleep.

As the door opens, you hear multiple footsteps approaching you.

"Good morning, beautiful." The voice whispers. "Get out before I kill you all." He says, barely audible, assumably to the others in the room. Before you can even register it, the room is empty, except for you and the man.

You feel someone rubbing your arm lightly.

"Ik weet dat je wakker bent." I know you're awake

You have no idea what the familiar voice just said, and just keep your eyes shut. The voice sighs and walks off. You hear a thump and you can only assume that the man has sat down on the floor.

You lie there, quiet, not daring to move an inch.

"You know, Y/N… As long as you treat me nicely, I will do the same to you." The voice speaks.

How does the voice know your name?

Slowly but surely, the happenings of last night come to mind.

The man you met at the nightclub. Max. Was he behind all of this?

You don't dare to look up to check if it's him you're sharing the room with, but the voice is similar.

You hear him moving on the floor, shuffling his way over to your mattress. When you feel his fingers on your hand you instinctively kick in his direction. The man is quick though, and dodges the kicks from you. As if by routine, he grabs your swinging legs. You let out a cry, and you two settle with him looking down at you lying on your back with your legs in his embrace.

"Max…. Where the fuck am I and where is Emma?" You look up at him with tears flowing on your cheeks as you tremble in fear.

"Shhhh, sweetheart, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then why the fuck am I here?!" You yell.

"You're simply here because I want you, and I couldn't risk you getting away last night."

You stare into his mellow eyes and try to process what he just said.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Max Verstappen and I'm the head of the mafia around here." Your body tenses up when you hear him. Mafia? Max looked way too innocent to be a part of the mafia. This had to be some sort of sick joke.

"You're mad, you know that? Now, let me loose and we'll forget about all of this." You try to bargain.

"Oh no, that's not how this works, Y/N. You see, I can't just let you go, you belong to me now."

"Where is Emma?" You ask again.

"Your friend? She's safe."

He lets your legs go and starts pacing the room.

"Why me?" You ask in confusion.

"Because you tick all of my boxes. You're beautiful, you've got class, you're funny…"

"You don't know anything about me, creep." You mutter.

"Oh trust me Y/N, I know more about you than you probably realise."

You crawl into a ball, sobbing your heart out as Max looks at you.

"Let me help you, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you, but I also can't let you go.

His words enlighten a rage in you, a rage that you thought you weren't even capable of.

"I literally met you last night, motherfucker! Don't barge in here thinking you know me when you clearly know nothing." You yell at his face.

He looks completely deflated as he looks at you. He stares down at his shoes and seems to think about what to say next. "Clearly, this will take time." He finishes and walks out.

A couple of weeks pass, and you're moved to a new room, equipped with your own toilet, proper bed, kitchen table, and two armchairs. Max would visit you multiple times a day to get to know you, sometimes spending hours upon hours sitting in that stupid armchair of his, either trying to strike up a conversation with you or just sitting there in silence, keeping an eye on you. Either way, he seemed to enjoy himself.

You, on the other hand, either ignored him or argued back to anything he said. You weren't going to make this easy for him, that was for sure. How he kept his cool, was beyond you.

"Liefje, stop that." He sternly says as you hit the door, desperate to get out.

"You know there are at least 12 heavily armed men on the other side with strict orders not to let you out, right?"

You couldn't give less of a fuck, they might as well kill you.

When you're about to hit the door once more, you feel Max's hands on yours, hitting against the door one last time. He presses you against the metal door and keeps his hands on yours.

"You will do exactly as I say, will you not, hm?" Max asks.

"Kill me then! You might as well kill me if I'm going to be held here like a prisoner for the rest of my life!" You yell in his face.

Day after day, he'd come. Sometimes he'd bring you a bouquet of flowers, which you tossed in the trash immediately, sometimes he brought you something you'd requested, like a McDonald's cheeseburger or Lindt chocolate. You were grateful he actually cared enough to bring you those things. Some kidnappers surely wouldn't treat you with this much dignity, you resonated.

A couple of more weeks pass and Max starts to bring you gifts. Clothes he thought you'd look good in, jewellery he'd put his eyes on and needed to buy for you to wear, shoes he'd take off your feet at some point.

He convinced you to eat dinner at the same time as him. Usually you'd wait for him to finish his meal in order to avoid having to face him. To you, it would equal defeat and you were adamant on making his life a living hell.

"So, could this be concidered a first date?" He smiles at you.

"In your dreams, Verstappen."

His whole body shuddered as he heard you use his last name.

You sitting at the same table as him was progress. In the beginning, you wouldn't even look his way.

"So, when are you letting me free?" You ask with a stern tone.

"When I know you won't run away."

"So in theory, never?"

"If that's what you want." He shrugs as his eyes darken. "I will always find you if you run away. Always."

A couple of days pass and Max once again walks into the room. He'd visited you in the morning, accidentally waking you up. Now though, he was ready for dinner.

"My cook made us dinner." He says as he takes off his coat and approaches you sitting at the table, completing a puzzle he'd bought for you; you were pleasantly pleased when he stepped in with it, you'd mentioned that you enjoy crocheting, reading and solving puzzles at some point, and he'd picked up on that.

"Hmmmm… I'm not hungry." You say.

"I know you're hungry Y/N. My men told me that you didn't eat breakfast."

And he was right, you were starving.

"Ugh… Hate you." You mutter to yourself.

"You don't mean that." Max whispers, reassuring himself.

You move over so you sit opposite the handsome man. You gladly eat the food the cook made, you have to admit that the food they made was delicious.

Max looks at you fondly while you eat until you look up at him.

"What?!" You ask, irritation evident in your voice.

"Just admiring my girl."

"You slam down your fork into the table, leaving four small dents in the wood.

"Your girl? I'm not your girl Max. You kidnapped me! I'm not here of my own free will."

He smirks at you. "Just give me some time and I'll change that."

"Do you promise to be a good girl?" He asks of you as he ties the blindfold around your head.

"Yes, Max." You sigh.

Finally, he was moving you from the lonely room to his very own house.

He leads you into the car, making sure you're comfortable.

On the way, the guards, the same men you met that night, kept communicating with each other. You wondered how many men Max needed to feel safe.

"Don't worry about them, it's only a precaution to keep us safe. I've got important cargo on board." He chuckles as he grabs your hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

You huff, "Last time you call me cargo, imbecile."

When Max opens the door for you and removes the blindfold, you finally realise the extent of his wealth.

What he had defined as a house was a mansion in reality. And the garden… Surely, this is where he got those bouquets from. You also catched a glimpse of the padel course and the swimming pool close by.

All of the guards welcomed you respectfully. It was weird seeing all of them like this, months after your first encounter at the club.

"Y/N, these are your personal guards, Daniel, Lando, and Charles. They will keep you safe at all times." Max states.

The men don't dare to look at you, afraid of Max's reaction. They simply just nod.

Living with a mafia boss had it's perks and drawbacks. He'd bring you flowers from his garden daily, and gifted you something ridiculously expensive weekly meaning your new wardrobe started to fill up with new expensive clothes and jewellery. Max didn't trust you enough to be alone outside the house, so you were still followed by at least one of the guards.

You tried your hardest to be nice to them, it wasn't their fault that you were in this unfortunate situation. They were clearly uncomfortable being your guards, not wanting to look your way, touch you or talk to you, afraid of their fate if they angered their boss. You were thankful though, they helped you with things you needed help with and stayed out of your way when you needed them to.

You had to admit, you lived a comfortable life. You'd spend your day either by the pool or comfortably inside the large, luxurious house. You wouldn't have to lift a finger again with Max as your man. The problem was, you were itching to get out into the world again. You had no contact with the outside world. You missed your parents and siblings at home. You missed Emma. Hell, you even missed work.

One day, after dinner, Max walks up to you with a box.

"Open it." Max encourages you.

"Not another gift, Max. I've told you, I don't want any!" You complain.

"I promise, you will like this one."

You sigh and study the neat black box with a black ribbon on top.

And Max is right, you love the gift. He had gifted you a phone, how generous of him. Finally, you had a way to keep in contact with the world. You had one contact. Emma. You immediately dial her and wait for her to pick up.

"Hello, who is this?" You hear your dear friend ask.

You instantly burst out crying when you hear her voice.

"It's Y/N! I'm so glad to hear your voice!"

"Y/N?! What the fuck, where are you, are you okay? I reported you missing months ago! Honestly, the police, your parents, and I started to lose hope of finding you." You hear her sobbing too.

"I'm okay, I've been forbidden to tell you where I am but I'm fine. Please send my parents my regards."

You continue talking for the rest of the evening. Max leaves you to it, trusting you enough not to tell your friend about your whereabouts. Max permitted you to call Emma once per week, and your calls was all you looked forward to. Hearing Emmas voice was soothing and felt like home.

"Y/N, I'm going mad, where are you? I want to meet up." Emma asks after a couple of weeks.

You look up at Max and Lando, both of them standing in front of you, hearing her question as she's on speaker.

"Uhhh, I'm afraid I can't tell you, Emma, but I hope we can meet up soon." You nod at the men and they nod approvingly back. Not being able to tell your best friend hurt more than it should have. That night you spend sobbing your heart out into one of your goose down pillows in your bed, cursing Max out as he pats your head.

"Fuck you, Max!" You curse.

"Shhhh…. It will get easier. And if you behave and act like a good girl for me, I'll let you meet Emma." Max tries to soothe you.

The day after, you tried calling your parents when Max didn't see or hear, but the call didn't come through. Surely, Max had a function on it, meaning the only person you could call was Emma. Max found out that you'd disobeyed him by calling your parents and took your phone away, enraging you even more. You soon realised that the only way you'd get out of this was by obeying Max's rules.

You were peacefully eating breakfast when Max and a couple of his men followed him into the kitchen.

He sneakily appears behind you and steals a piece of your toast as you're about to have a bite.

"Heyy!! Thief!" You yell.

Max and his men let out a giggle at your annoyed expression.

"I'll be home at 7 pm, okay?" Max asks.

"Yeah." You shrug at him. He gives you a small smile and turns around.

You spend the day at the pool, reading a book Max gifted you. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Why he chose that book, you didn't know. Daniel and Charles spend their day near you, standing guard. Luckily they don't have to be by themselves and you can hear them laughing now and again.

You craved a friend like that too. In a way Max was unfair, he let his men talk to each other and have friendships but letting you meet Emma was out of the question.

You figured you'd freshen up before Max got home, and walked inside. The men didn't follow for once, seemingly deep in a conversation.

That meant that you could discover the mansion by yourself. The men had stopped you from exploring the whole building for some reason. Mindlessly, you strolled around the house, checking the doors. Weirdly, all of them were locked. Bored, you walk back to your room. On the way, you walk past Max's room. Curiosity overwhelms you and you check the door, and it's open. You hear the floor creak as you walk on it. You try to walk even lighter as you find your way further into the room. The floor was painted in a dark wooden accent and the ceiling was filled with paintings of angels, lambs and plump clouds. You turn to the fireplace with a huge painting of a man above it. The man looked like an older version of Max, surely it had to be either his father or grandfather.

All of a sudden, the lights come on, and you see Max standing in the doorway.

"Sneaking around, are we?"

"No, no, it wasn't like that!" You try to explain, as Max walks closer to you.

"Shhhh…" He shushes, "This is the perfect opportunity to show you our bedroom. This is where you'll be sleeping for the rest of your life when you decide to move in."

"I like it?" You say, insure about the dark red tones and tassels spread around the room.

Max takes notice of your facial expression. "I'll have it renovated for you, maybe that will encourage you to move in quicker?" Max asks. "I'm making no promises." You shake your head and give him a teasing smile.

Max creeps closer to you, not breaking eye contact. You've gotten used to the man and you don't back off when he walks closer to you. He grabs your arms, pulling you even closer. You feel the heat he radiates as your bodies touch. And that signature cologne he wears every day smells different at this proximity. Before things get too heated for your liking you pull away, which results in Max pulling you in again, making you yelp. He bends down and places a delicate kiss on your forehead. Then, finally, he lets you go.

You're so shocked, you don't even register that his hands aren't holding you in place, and you stand there for what feels like an eternity, staring into his ocean-blue eyes. Your breath is heavy, and so is his. Max returns his hands to you, but this time he doesn't hold you in place but rather supports you. His hands wander from your sides down to your hips.

Max lets out a small moan. "Feel so good. You're driving me crazy." His words are messing with your head. You know what he's trying to do and you refuse to fall for his gaslighting. But goddamn, his hands felt so good on you. His hands grow bolder and fall to your ass, giving it a little squeeze.

You break from his soft hold and glare at him.

"Too soon? Sorry, liefje."

A couple of weeks pass, and you're growing accustomed to Max and his life.

You and Emma talk almost daily at this point and you're starting to enjoy your surroundings, despite the lack of freedom. Well, lack of privacy to be exact, as Max has let you off his premises a couple of times to do some shopping. The guards were still following you wherever you went though.

Max would try to get closer to you, stealing light kisses on your forehead and cheeks.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Max smiles when he sees you walk into the kitchen. You grab the kettle, "Good morning… You sound like you're in a good mood."

"I am, I actually have some very exciting plans for us later." He says as he walks around the kitchen island and walks up behind you, turning you around.

"Here." He lends you his black card, "Take this and get yourself something nice for later."

"Max… What do you mean by "nice"? You ask.

"Something that will make people drop their jaws, I give you free hands."

And with that, he leaves for work. Lando, Daniel, and Charles are ordered to take care of you. They quickly nod and wait for you to get ready. Just to mess with them a little, you take your time eating breakfast, choosing your outfit, and applying makeup.

"Finally!" Lando exclaims, followed by a slight push by Charles. They lead you outside, walking close by in case you decide to run away. What they don't seem to realise is, you're in heels and you're not running anywhere with them on.

You walk around the mall all day in order to find something nice to wear for the evening. It was harder than you thought, especially since you had no idea of what Max's plans were.

You finally decide on a black maxi dress with a slightly exposed back. You walk out from the changing room and ask the men for opinions.

"Errrm, it's fine, I guess?" Charles answers, unsure of what to say.

"It looks awesome on you." Daniel corrects his co-worker, followed by an approving nod by Lando.

"What exactly are I and Max doing later?" You ask the trio of guards as you walk out of the shop with a couple of shopping bags in their hands.

"He told us not to tell." They simply state.

"Ugh." You roll your eyes at them, annoyed by their loyalty to their boss.

Your eyes land on a jewelry shop, and the most beautiful necklace you'd ever laid your eyes on. You turn your heel, making the men almost crash into you. They apologize profusely but you don't listen. "Good day, miss." The store clerk greets. "Searching for something in particular?"

You walk over to the grand necklace. "How much is this?"

"100." The salesperson states.

You look at them, confused. 100? Surely the necklace was worth more than that.

The clerk must've noticed your confusion because they cleared their throat and looked at the men behind you with a questioning look.

"100 000, miss."

The words came off their tongue like it was nothing. On the other hand, you could not believe what you'd just heard.

"….100 000?" You question. "Consider it sold." You say, smiling. The clerk turns and stares at you with big eyes. The trio behind you stare at you with even bigger eyes. Theoretically, you could get a house for the same price. You finish up the deal and walk away as a proud one hundred thousand necklace owner with the guards taking care not to walk into you again.

When you get home, it's already late and you need to start getting ready.

"When is Max coming home?" You ask Lando.

"Soon." He answers, leaving you alone in your room.

You take a quick shower to freshen up. You wrap a towel around your naked body and when you get out of the bathroom you're startled by Max, as he's lying on your bed scrolling on his phone languidly.

"What the fuck, Max? That's my bed!"

"Hello schatje, miss me? And actually, you're in my house, I can do whatever I want in here."

You groan, "Some privacy please?!"

Max gets up and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek, something you don't fight against.

"Wanted to see you, that was all." And with that, he exits your bedroom and closes the door.

You get ready for him in record time. When you come down the stairs, he's already waiting for you. The dress you wear fits you like a glove and you feel sexy. What finished your look off though, was the necklace, that you'd paired with some other jewelry to match.

Max meets up with you halfway and takes your hand, kissing it.

"When I said 'free hands', this is exactly what I had in mind, Y/N."

"Do you like it?" You ask, giving him a spin.

"I love it, I love you." He admits as he pulls you close and kisses you. This was unexpected and you should've refused but you just… couldn't. When he pulls away he studies you once again and huffs,

"So beautiful, mijn liefde."

"Ready?" He asks as he guides you out to his car.

"When are you going to tell me what we're doing?"

"I'm taking you to see my mother."

"You're taking me to meet your mother?! I thought you were taking me for dinner!"

"Well, technically I am, she's an excellent cook and she's making dinner for us."

You shake your head aggressively, not happy with the situation. Max keeps talking as if nothing happened on the remainder of the car ride. "Here we are." Max says happily as he turns onto the road leading to his childhood home. You see a lady waving on the stairs leading up to the large manor.

"Max, Y/N." She yells. "I'm so happy to finally meet you!"

"Mama!" Max runs to hug her.

He walks back to you to lead you up to his mother.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you." You try to be nice to the woman and give off a positive impression.

"Hello, I'm Sophie, Max's mother. He has told me so much about you."

You give him a questioning look as you walk in. They give you a tour of the large house, and you can't help wondering what both Max and his mother are doing with such large houses when they live alone, excluding the guards of course.

"I hope you're hungry, I've made dinner!" Sophie tells you with a wide smile.

Sophie is one of the best cooks indeed, and you eat with a good appetite, much to her delight.

Sophie spends the rest of the dinner sharing awkward stories about Max. He buries his face in his hands in order to escape his mother's story about how he shot himself in the foot when he was 11. "And then, he stole his father's gun and ran away… Not knowing it was loaded." She explains.

You enjoy their company, and you can tell that Max has inherited his nice manners from his mother.

"Will you excuse me and Y/N for a moment, I'd like to show her the rose garden?" Max asks his mother.

Sophie nods and you take off outside, it's getting late and chilly, so Max offers his suit jacket to you. As you slowly walk towards the garden, Max creeps closer, wrapping his arm around your back and landing his hand on your hip.

"Your mother is lovely, Max." You look up at him.

"I know, and she seems to love you too."

When you reach the garden, he stops you. "I brought you here because I wanted to ask you to be my one and only for the rest of my life." He asks as he leans in, stopping only a few centimeters from you.

"W-what are you implying, Max?" You ask nervously, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I'm asking you to be my beloved. I want to make you my wife, the mother of my children. I want to grow old with you, and die by your side."

His words makes your stomach flutter. You can't help yourself anymore, you crash into his mouth and he very eagerly kisses you back.

"Max…" You moan, out of breath. "I think I like you."

He sighs. "I love you, Y/N, and I intend to make you love me too, but I understand if it takes time."

As you walk back up to the manor, Sophie is already standing at the stairs.

"We better leave, it's getting late." Max looks at his armwatch.

After saying your goodbyes and getting into the car, Max drives homeward.

His hand is glued to your thigh the whole way, squeezing it.

You feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you press your legs together. Max must have noticed this, because he pries your legs open with his hand. He quickly slides his hand up to your heat before you have the chance to close your legs again.

"Mijn god, you're so wet already. And I haven't even done anything yet." Max gasps as he moves your thong to the side and slides his finger along your slit.

"Max, please."

"So pretty, begging for me like this. Are you mine, huh? Are you?" He asks.

"Please, please. I'm yours."

Max groans and stops the car at the first bus stop he can find.

"Get in the back." He commands. Luckily he brought the SUV, because there was plenty of space for you and him in the backseat.

"Come here, beautiful." He pulls your dress up to your hips as you slowly straddle him, taking care to not rip your dress.

"Just like that…" He whispers. "Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you." You can hear your own heart beating, and Max probably noticed too.

"Can I touch you… Like this?" He asks as he kneads your buttocks. All of a sudden, he gives your left asscheek a slap, making you yelp.

"Ouch! What was that for?" You raise your eyebrow.

"For making me wait so long." He whispers, feeling his breath on your face.

You enjoy him massaging your ass but you have another place that desperately needs some attention. You try to grind down on him to get some friction but when you do, he grabs your hips to hold you still. You groan, looking at him disapprovingly.

"What do you need, schat?"

"Need… Need you."

"Need… This?" He asks as his hand wanders to the sides, pulling your thong halfway down your legs and touching you where you need him most. His finger starts flicking your clit while he slowly and gently inserts a finger into your cunt, making you moan out. You feel your walls tightening around his finger deliciously, making him moan. You grind down on him while he adds another finger into your aching pussy. By curling his fingers, he quickly makes you scream out your orgasm. It was drawn out, warm, sweaty and stopping your breath. You collapse on him, making him chuckle.

"We need to continue the drive…" Max whispers in your ear when you've come down and your breath has steadied.

The rest of the car ride home, you spend looking at him, you study his features… His dark blonde ruffled hair, big puffy lips, delicious thighs, blue eyes, and his beautiful soul. Deep down, you knew he was good, he was just brought into the wrong family and upbringing.

Were you falling for him? Absolutely. Helplessly, shamelessly.

When he parks in front of the house, he walks over to your side and pulls you into his arms, carrying you inside.

"I was hoping you'd sleep with me tonight…" He looks down on you.

"If you promise not to snore." You smile up at him. He bursts out laughing at your shenanigans.

"You're allowed to kick me off the bed if I do…" He softly replies as he walks up the stairs.

The guards are smart enough to stop in their tracks at the stairs, leaving you completely alone with Max.

"Why does this feel like some sort of wedding night?" You whisper.

"Does it? Are you nervous?" He looks at you with worry in his eyes.

"Yes… I mean no. I mean… Uh, maybe a little?"

"Don't worry, liefje. You're okay." He whispers back in your ear.

By the time you reach the bedroom, his lips are on yours in a delicious and heated kiss. He lets you down from his arms but as soon as your legs reach the floor his hands are on your hips, swaying you from side to side.

"Would you like to dance?" He asks.

"I can't dance…." You look down in embarrassment.

"Everyone can dance." He huffs and walks up to a stereo hidden in his wardrobe. The songs on the old CD give off the exact atmosphere Max wanted. He walks up to you and grabs your hands, leading you to the middle of the room. He lifts your right hand up slightly and places his other hand on your hip, swinging you from side to side to the music. He leans down and rests his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.

"You won't believe the effect you have on me, Y/N." He mumbles.

You hum and keep slow dancing. When Max lifts his head, he puts his hands on either side of your face and leans in to kiss you. The kiss was heated and turned into a makeout session. You feel your knees becoming weak and Max grabs you to hold you upright. He gives you a tiny nudge to take a couple of steps back and when you feel the edge of the bed behind your legs you collapse on top of it.

Max takes a moment to admire you as you lift yourself on your elbows and pout your lips. He hovers over you, picking your legs up on the way.

"Is this fine? I don't want to hurt you." And you nod as an answer. How in the fuck is this man a mafia boss. You'd never been with a man this caring.

He unzips your zipper and slides the dress down your body, with your help. The sight he's met with was like something from a wet dream. You, with a naked chest, in front of him lying in his bed. He slips your dress off, pulling your thong off along with it.

"So fijn…" He coos as his hands wander on your body. When his hands land on your bare chest you look up at his wide eyes. Your hands reach for his, grabbing them and holding your breasts with him. You gasp at the feeling of his rugged hands on you sliding along your sides, finding their way lower down. He leans into your heat, giving your clit a light kiss, looking at you for permission to dive in. As soon as you nod, he sticks his tongue out and tastes you. The taste makes him moan out loud. He's sure the guards downstairs can hear his sounds but he doesn't care at the moment.

"Taste so good, princess." He says as he laps his tongue around your clit and down to your pulsating hole, teasing it with his tongue. He continues eating you out as his finger works wonders on your clit. You try to cum quietly but you're unable to when Max sucks your clit into his mouth while adding two fingers into your sopping cunt.

You announce your orgasm, "I'm cumming!" and grab a hold of Max's hair to bring him impossibly closer as you cum all over his face.

"My turn." Max growls and pulls you up on your knees, as he quickly pulls his pants down to his knees. You see the outline of his dick in his underwear. You get the hint and pull his briefs down, and his dick springs out, making your mouth water. It was above average but not too big. He had more girth than length, and the head was pink and… puffy? For lack of a better word.

You instinctively open your mouth and stick your tongue out, giving max full access to your mouth. He doesn't waste a second and sticks his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat instantly. You gag, but he doesn't stop. He wasn't rough per se, he was still attentive and stopped when you started struggling.

"Taking me so well…" He breathes out as he pushes himself into your gape again.

"Do you think you're ready to take my cock?" He asks.

You let his length go with a pop and nod.

He positions you under him, with your legs placed on his shoulders. "Do we need to use protection?" He asks.

"I'm clean and I've got an IUD."

"Good, let me know if I'm too rough."

And with that, he slides his cock through your lips and teases your entrance. Finally, his tip finds its way home, and you yelp out at the feeling of the intrusion. He slowly pushes his whole length into you while you try to breath through the feeling of him stretching you out. He gives you a break for you to adjust to his size.

"You okay?" He checks in.

"Yeah… Please move."

Max slides his length out, leaving only the tip inside of you, and pistons his way inside of you again.

"Oh god… So big." You moan.

He chuckles and increases the pace. You can't help yourself, and moan out in pure enjoyment.

"Shhhh…" He shushes you, putting his hand over your mouth.

He increases the pace even further and you squeeze your eyes shut in another toe-curling orgasm. Max doesn't stop though, and continues destroying your dripping pussy.

"Come here…" He pulls you up and you watch him lie down, and get on top. You grab his dick and guide it to your entrance. At this point, you're so wet that it slides in without any resistance.

You start riding his cock at a slow pace, making Max grunt in desperation. He grabs your hips, trying to set a quicker pace but you're having none of it. You slap his hands away and continue at your own pace.

Your pace quickens when you feel Max twitching in you, spilling his seed inside your pussy. He groans out every last drop that he has to give and pulls you down to his chest, peppering your face with kisses as you giggle at his antics.

"I love you." He admits as he stares into your eyes with a warmness in his eyes, something that you hadn't seen before.

When you part, he studies your pussy as his cum drips out, playing with it and stuffing it inside of you again.

You're exhausted after the nights activities and you collapse on the bed, falling asleep within a minute.

You're awakened by birds chirping and chattering. Your vision is blurry but you see the outline of Max on the other side of the bed. You stretch your body and hum happily, having last night's happenings fresh in your mind.

"Come here, Max… It's too early to be up."

It wasn't, but you'd gotten used to sleeping in over the last couple of months.

"Good morning, mijn schat." He coos as he walks over to you, kneeling on the bed. He gives you a quick peck before he pulls on your arm carefully, encouraging you to get up while you grunt, still plagued by exhaustion. "I guarantee pancakes if you get up." You look up at him and spring up from bed, suddenly not feeling tired at all anymore.

When you're done with your morning routine, you walk out of the bathroom and see Max getting dressed, with his back to you. You're shocked to see 5 small dents on his back, making you walk closer to inspect. As you trace your hand along his strong back muscles, he tense up.

"Stop that, Y/N." Max asks sternly.

"Why?" You tease.

"I said stop it!" He turns around and grabs your hands, holding them in his strong hold.

You yelp. "You're hurting me!"

As soon as he hears that, he immediately lets you go. His change in mood makes you take a few steps back in fear.

"I'm so sorry, liefje… I just c-"

"Don't touch me." You warn him holding your pointer finger up.

"Please, let me explain. I'm sure you can guess what those marks are. You see, Y/N, I'm not proud of what I am. Those marks remind me of what a monster I really am."

Your heart melts when you hear the man in front of you talk that way about himself. The usually so hard and masculine man is suddenly small and showing emotion. You see his eyes watering, looking fondly at you.

"Oh, Max…" You walk up and hug him, while he hugs you back with a tight grip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He sobs into your shoulder.

"I know, I know." You comfort him. You lead him to the bed, making him lie down while you lie down on top of him, grounding the man.

After lying like that for what feels like a minute but surely was more like 10 minutes, Max lifts you up, smiling.

"Thank you, mijn schat. You're so kind to me, despite my flaws. Now, didn't I just promise you pancakes?"

You get up and strut down to the kitchen, smiling and laughing, happy with the fact that Max was making you one of your favourite breakfast dishes. In the end, you had to give him some assistance, men are bad at multitasking, but you didn't mind at all. The teamwork made them taste even better.

The guards are no where to be seen so you and Max get to enjoy your breakfast in piece on the porch, enjoying the view over his garden.

439 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 1 year ago

Text

Ice Queen: Fire Meets Ice

Max Verstappen x Räikkönen!Reader

Summary: how you and Max went from playing together in the paddock while your fathers raced to being the ones racing

Series Masterlist

First Meetings

“Who’s that, Papa?” You ask, pointing to a slightly older boy playing with toy cars a few feet away.

“That’s Max,” Kimi replies, glancing down at you with an amused expression. “Wanna go play?”

You consider it for a moment, your two-year-old face taking on a comically serious expression. “Will he share his cars?”

Your father chuckles, “Only one way to find out.”

As you toddle over, Max looks up, his blue eyes curious. “Hi. I’m Max.”

You stare at him, sizing him up with all the intensity a two-year-old can muster. “I want that one,” you declare, pointing to a red toy car.

Max raises an eyebrow, a hint of a challenge in his gaze. “That’s my favorite.”

You mimic the same deadpan expression you've seen Kimi wear countless times. “Mine now.”

Max seems taken aback for a second but then bursts out laughing. “Okay, okay! We can share.”

For the rest of the day, the two of you are inseparable. Racing toy cars, building makeshift tracks, and causing minor chaos in the paddock.

At one point, you both decide to “race.” Max, being older, naturally has the advantage but that doesn’t deter you. You’re determined to keep up.

“Papa says I’m fast,” you tell Max confidently as you both line up for the big race.

Max smirks, “My vader says I’m faster.”

You frown, looking genuinely offended. “No way.”

The two of you race, or more accurately, engage in a hilarious toddler trot. It’s less about speed and more about who can go the longest without tripping over their own feet.

As the day draws to an end, Max’s father approaches. He doesn’t seem as warm as your father but he nods in acknowledgment, “Looks like you two got on well.”

Kimi ruffles your hair, looking down at you with a smirk, “She has a way with people.”

You and Max exchange a final high-five, both of you making a pact to race again someday but next time in real cars.

“Pwomise?” You ask Max, holding out your pinky.

He nods solemnly, linking his pinky with yours. “Promise.”

As you leave the paddock, your father leans down, “I think you’ve made a friend for life there.”

You nod, clutching one of the toy cars Max let you keep. “He’s alwight. But I’m still faster.”

Kimi chuckles, lifting you into his arms. “No doubt about it.”

Until We Meet Again

“Papa,” you begin, tugging at Kimi’s leg, “why is Max packing all his cars?”

Kimi crouches down to your level. “His papa is leaving F1, so they won’t be around next season.”

You frown, not fully understanding the implications but sensing the seriousness of the situation. “But ... I want to play with Max.”

The boy in question walks over, his toy cars clutched tightly in his hand. “It’s not fair,” he says, stomping his foot with a little scowl.

Your lip starts to wobble. “Very not fair.”

Max’s shoulders slump. “I’m going to miss this. And ... and I guess I’ll miss you.”

“You’re leaving? Like ... fowever?”

He nods, looking down. “Yeah. But we can still be friends, right?”

You think it over for a moment then smile, a plan forming in your mind. “We can write letters!”

Max seems to consider this. “That sounds cool. Let’s do it!”

The two of you spend the rest of the day drawing letters to each other seated on the rough tarmac, complete with scribbles and doodles. The content might be indecipherable to any adult but to you and Max, they’re precious messages.

As the final race of the season ends, and it’s time for Max and Jos to leave, you give Max a tight hug, your small arms wrapping around him. “Don’t forget, okay? Letters!”

He hugs you back. “I promise.”

You watch as they walk away, Max turning back every few steps to wave. Kimi, sensing your sadness, lifts you into his arms. “You okay?”

You nod, clutching the red toy car — Max’s favorite — that he gave you as a parting gift. “I’ll miss him, Papa.”

Your father presses a kiss to your forehead. “I know. But hey, you have a pen pal now.”

You giggle, the idea bringing some comfort. “Yeah. And when we’re older, we’ll race together!”

Kimi chuckles, “No doubt about it.”

Reunited and It Feels So Good

“Who’s that guy over there?” You ask, pointing to a young driver in a Toro Rosso race suit chatting with his team.

Your father squints in the direction you’re pointing and smirks. “That’s Max Verstappen.”

You blink in surprise, studying the taller figure with a more chiseled face. “Max? As in my Max?”

Kimi nods, eyes crinkling in amusement. “One and the same.”

“He’s … changed. I mean, he kind of looks like Sid the Sloth from that Ice Age movie.”

Your father chokes on his drink. “You always did have a way with words.”

Without any hesitation, you start walking over to Max, Kimi trailing behind. As you approach, Max looks up and for a moment, there’s no recognition in his eyes. But then something clicks.

“Is that ...” His eyes get even wider.

You smirk and cross your arms. “Last time I checked, Sid the Sloth wasn’t a Formula 1 driver.”

Max bursts out laughing, the sound echoing around the garage. “You haven’t changed a bit!”

You raise an eyebrow, “Can’t say the same for you. You used to be so cute. What happened?”

He grins, a hint of the mischievous boy you used to play with still shining through. “It’s good to see you again. Been too long.”

Your father walks up, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “She’s just here to make sure I don’t slack off.”

Max chuckles and shoots a wink, “Knowing you, I’m sure she has her work cut out for her.”

You nod sagely, “Full-time job, really.”

As the day winds down after free practice, Max finds you outside the Ferrari motorhome. “We should hang out more. Catch up properly.”

You tap your chin exaggeratingly, “Hmm ... I guess I could spare some time for an old friend.”

Max nudges you playfully, “It’s like Kimi copy and pasted his personality to make you.”

“Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

With a promise to meet up soon, the two of you part ways but not before your father adds, “Stay out of trouble, you two.”

You and Max exchange amused looks. “No promises.”

A Nudge in the Right Direction

“Remind why exactly we are watching an F2 race again?” Christian Horner asks, adjusting his sunglasses as he tries to blend into the crowd.

Max grins sheepishly, “Just thought it would be fun to watch some up-and-coming talent, you know? Besides, there’s someone racing today you might find ... interesting.”

Franz Tost, who has also been “accidentally” dragged along, narrows his eyes, “This isn’t one of your schemes, is it?”

Max looks offended, “Me? Scheme? Never.”

Christian chuckles, “Alright, Max. Who are we looking at?”

Max points to a car getting ready on the front row. “That one. Trust me.”

As the feature race begins, it’s clear who Max is talking about. Your driving style stands out with precision, aggression, and an undeniable talent reminiscent of a certain Finn of few words.

��Hmm,” Christian murmurs, watching intently as you expertly navigate the track. “Who is that?”

Max smirks, “Someone who’s used to the world of F1, thanks to her father.”

Franz raises an eyebrow, “Kimi’s daughter?”

Max nods, “Impressive, right?”

The two team principals watch with sharp eyes as you overtake competitors with ease and display skills beyond your years. It’s clear you’re a natural.

As the checkered flag waves and you cross the finish line in P1, Max turns to Christian and Franz with anticipation. “What do you think?”

“She’s certainly got the talent.”

“And the lineage. Räikkönen skill is clearly in her DNA.”

Max smiles widely, “So ... Red Bull or AlphaTauri?”

Christian chuckles, “You’re quite the talent scout.”

Franz sighs, shaking his head but smiling, “We’ll have to discuss it of course. But I think either team would be lucky to have her.”

“I just have one question,” Christian interjects. “How is she not part of a development program already?”

Max shrugs, “Kimi didn’t want her to limit her options and have to wait around to break into Formula 1 by binding herself to a team that might not have any seats open for a while. Just thought you guys should see her in action.”

Christian pats Max on the back, “Good call. We’ll be in touch.”

As they walk away, Max sends a thumbs-up in your direction. You, still high on adrenaline and not yet aware of the high-profile spectators, simply return the gesture, wondering what the mischievous grin on Max’s face is all about and whether it should worry you.

I’m Coming Up

“Guess what?” You blurt out as soon as Max picks up the phone.

“You ate my hidden stash of stroopwafels?”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “No, although that sounds tempting. I just signed with Red Bull to race for AlphaTauri next season!”

There’s a moment of silence before Max erupts, “I knew it! That is brilliant!”

Your smile widens at his enthusiasm. “Thanks. Thought you’d like to know.”

Max snickers, “You’ll be driving for Red Bull in no time, watch.”

You laugh through the speaker, “Oh? Ready for some actual competition?”

The seriousness with which he responds makes you pause for a second, “Absolutely. I’ve been bored without you to race against.”

“Careful what you wish for.”

He feigns offense, “You think I can’t handle the heat?”

“I’m just saying,” you tease, “that once I’m there, you better get used to the sight of my rear wing.”

Max laughs again, “I’ve missed your comebacks.”

“And I’ve missed using them against you,” you shoot back.

“Seriously though, congrats. I’m so excited to see where this takes you.”

You nibble your lip, “Thanks, Maxie. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Just don’t forget us little people when you’re taking F1 by storm, okay?”

You snort, “Little people? Last I checked, you’re taller than me. And probably the best driver of his generation.”

“Probably?”

“Well,” you draw out, “Charles Leclerc exists …”

“Y/N …” Max whines.

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s not like he’ll do much damage to you if Ferrari keeps up this pattern.”

You can almost hear Max’s pout through the phone. “Fine.”

“But,” you grin, “that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“May the best driver win. Just promise not to leave me in the dust.”

You laugh, “No promises.”

Easy Choices

“All right, drivers, ready for some quick-fire questions?” The Red Bull social media coordinator asks, camera poised.

Max nods, “Born ready.”

You tighten your ponytail, “Let’s do this.”

Sergio and Pierre exchange amused glances, clearly anticipating the shenanigans ahead.

“First question,” the coordinator starts, “Which driver would you want to be stuck on a deserted island with?”

Without hesitation, you and Max respond in unison.

“Max.”

“Y/N.”

“Always so predictable,” Pierre laughs.

Sergio grins, “Afraid of a little competition?”

You raise an eyebrow with a smirk, “From you? Not particularly.”

The group erupts in laughter and Max adds, “It’s just logic. We’ve known each other the longest.”

The coordinator smiles, clearly enjoying the banter, “Okay, okay, next question. Who is most likely to get lost in a new city?”

Again, without missing a beat, both you and Max point to each other.

Sergio chuckles, “Clearly, there’s a pattern here.”

Pierre nods in mock seriousness, “And if you two ever do get stranded on that island, please send us a postcard.”

You laugh, “Deal.”

“Last question,” the coordinator announces, “Which driver do you think has the best taste in music?”

“Definitely not Max,” you shake your head.

“Excuse me? My playlist is legendary!”

Pierre chimes in, “If by legendary you mean questionable ...”

Sergio retorts, “At least it’s better than your love for French pop.”

“It’s cultured!”

As the session wraps up, the coordinator grins, “You two are a match made in racing heaven.”

You and Max laugh but both of you can’t help the way your cheeks warm at the comment or how you avoid meeting each other’s eyes on the way out of the studio.

The social media coordinator must spend so much time online that fans’ ships are getting to her too.

That’s clearly the only reason she would say that.

Nothing else.

Nope.

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @ilovedreming @jamie2305 @reidsworld @notyouraveragemochii @faithm120601 @idkiwantchocolatee @cha-hot @formulaonemad3 @eugene-emt-roe @champomiel @topguncultleader @gods-menace @razielchrysanderoctavius @sainzluvrr @kimmchijjajang @imagandom @roseseraj @minkyungseokie @daniellarogers @that-aesthetic-chic @elijahslover @coffeewhore18 @glitterf1 @a-mixers-serenity @itsjustkhaos @leilanixx @scoobdoobdoob @lillianacristina @keii134 @olliesoakberry @ruleroftheuniverse @mellowarcadefun

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door-insurance · 2 months ago

Text

So I played Life is Strange 2 for the first time ever

I didn’t wanna play it for a long time not cause it didn’t have Chloe or max (tbh I got sick of their asses around BtS they’re not even my faves)

By that point I was in college and had lost interest in the whole franchise but also I was very apprehensive of white creatives writing racism with no input from the group they’re portraying, they don’t usually do a good job

Sometimes they make it cartoony, sometimes they trivialize it, sometimes they romanticize it

So years later adulthood kicked my ass and I came back crawling to this franchise for some comfort, I finished True colors annnnd I finally started 2 after hesitating annnnd

^sketched this while playing

SPOILERS

I actually liked it

I liked Sean, the drawing segment he does- he was such a likable main guy, deserved better honestly.

I also liked Daniel, he was very adorable and I never got it when people called him annoying like no shit the 9 year old is gonna act like a 9 year old- just don’t be a jerk to him, I know he can be frustrating but that’s what taking care of a kid is like

And lis had always been about realistic complex characters, y’all can’t handle a traumatized nine year?

I have two younger siblings and two nieces plus I’ve been a bratty younger sibling to two older sisters

Maybe I’m just used to it?? But honestly Daniel wasn’t that bad

The racism portrayal in the first few episodes was not all that cartoony and it actually felt real at times, like I can check for American news rn and find stories similar to what you see in episodes 1-3 (minus the telekinesis)

Although the gas station racist hick spouting trump slogans was a bit on the nose, it’s more of dialogue thing

Some people thought the gas station detainment was egregious but it can happen unfortunately, especially to vulnerable people in rural areas and by someone of a higher systematic advantage

One other thing I did not like was the love interests, I thought Finn and Cassidy were alright characters on their own but why do we need romance in this game where the protagonists are always on the run?

I don’t like to compare lis 1 to 2 but when it comes to the romance the former did a better job as it spent more time establishing it, plus max stayed in the same place for the majority of the game- but you know what? Sean doesn’t have to be in a relationship right? It can be a one off thing, that’s fine

Which brings me to my next point

How old are Cassidy and Finn?

Cause Sean is still 16 and no, being on the road didn’t mentally age him- he’s not “mature�� for his age

He is still a kid

So for some reason Dontnod never really specified their ages but some articles described them as teens (they look 30 to me) and they can be around 18 right? Their lives are hard stress ages you- it happens, we can with live that, it’s just a two years difference

But teens or not

why did they animate a whole knocking the boots scene???

Of all the games in the series, the only one that gets a sex scene is the one with the much younger protagonist and his ambiguously aged older looking love interest and I think it’s only with Cassidy you get to do it in the tent

Alex Chen was robbed of a on screen booty call from a beanie wearing lesbian with a sexy radio voice or a buff ass Adonis of a man who was Smokey the bear’s regional manager or something

Anyways I’m gonna move on I’m uncomfortable lmao

*im not hating on people who ship Sean with either Finn or Cassidy, I’m not even tagging your ship names- im just stating my personal preferences on my blog

One last thing I did not like about LiS 2 and it was the one thing that kept me from playing it for years

That one scene from episode 4

So at this point Sean Diaz went through the following:

-lost his father, had to abandoned his loved ones, education and home

-was accused of killing a cop

-had to take care of his little brother on his own while on the run, the same brother with telekinesis and none of them know how to control it

-was harassed, beaten then detained by a racist white man

-had to take refuge in an abandoned cabin with little resources

-the dog that they adopted at the gas station eventually gets mauled

-the one time they found solace at their grandparents house they had to leave abruptly cause the police was hot on their trail

-on their way out they can potentially witness the neighbors kid that they befriended get hit by the police car that’s chasing them

-they find shelter at a nomad campground but oh no they get involved with drug trafficking cause they barely have any other options to make money (unfortunately this happens a lot IRL this isnt egregious)

-Sean now has to deal with the trafficking, making sure that Daniel doesn’t get into any trouble with his powers while fake ass giancarlo esposito is breathing down his neck

-and guess what happens next… Daniel gets robbed into pulling a heist on temu gus fring and it goes badly, Sean can potentially lose a love interest/friend in Finn

-Sean gets hurt, Daniel goes so mad that he blows the whole place up; a shard glass flies into Sean’s eye and he ends up losing it

- Sean wakes up from a coma and learns that his brother is missing and he’s about to be taken to jail

- the one thing that consistently brought him joy during this trip was his art and because of the missing eye he can’t even do it the same anymore cause it hurts now

- Sean has to escape the hospital with a hot wired car, little money and has to drive across two states just to get to his brother

-on the way he dreams of his father, he wants him back he wants his old life back but that’s not gonna happen so he has to move forward

Im not listing all this as examples of bad story telling, a lot of these are real life experiences of homeless people. im just painting a picture of the shit that Sean had went through so far

Cause right after the dream sequence, Dontnod didn’t think all that was enough no you had to see Sean get hate crimed by two lifetime movie, sitcom special of the week racists- be made to either sing or suffer a brutal beating

It added nothing to the plot, it didn’t need a choice system either- it’s a hate crime, you’re not asking Joyce for fucking pancakes or eggs n bacon at the whales diner or hosing down Lisa the fckin plant.

This to me went straight to trauma p*rn category, it’s wheelchair Chloe all over again

I hated it then in LiS 1 and I hated now in LiS 2, this is why I don’t dick ride Dontnod that often

They always had this tendency right before the end they single out a particular character and mentally whip them, they become the writing teams punching bag- they think we didn’t get it the first time that this character is going through it, they just hammer it in with the subtlety of a heart attack and I hate it

“Yeah but it’s there to show Sean’s resolve to find Daniel-“

HE ESCAPED FROM THE HOSPITAL AND THE FEDS, HE HOT WIRED A CAR TO DRIVE ACROSS TWO STATES

He’s starving, dehydrated, suffering from chronic pain

That’s enough

Let the character breathe

You ask why not a lot of people wanna play this game and I’m gonna tell you, as much I enjoyed it myself it’s not an easy game to play- it gets brutal, especially right around the end

I’m not against bleakness or extreme conflict, I’m into that but sometimes that doesn’t translate well to any gaming format- especially a choices matter game that’s meant to be replayed

Some people have asinine reasons not to play LiS 2 like it dealing with racism and those people suck, lis had always dealt with progressive themes like calling out objectification, cyberbullying and sl*tshaming

Racism shouldn’t be the exemption

but misuse of racial trauma and not knowing when it’s appropriate to invoke it is a huge turn off and hella triggering to a lot of non white players and I remember when LiS 2 dropped I’ve seen (mostly white) lis fans at the time proclaiming that not wanting to play it meant that you were racist

Like I said there were probably racists who didn’t wanna touch the games cause of the main characters skin but there were people like me who were apprehensive of the “Let’s go to the mosh pit Shaka brah” people handling racism

This is the same studio that had Ms Grant (one of the few black characters from LiS 1) claim that the white settlers peacefully shared the stolen land with the native Americans

I find that shit harder to believe than the time traveling powers

And they were doing alright in the first episodes they covered stuff like unconscious biases slipping through, dog whistles, polite racism from the grandparents segment, police brutality, racial profiling and being targeted/othered- some of these things I went through when I visited western countries

Then they did the bullshit I feared theyd do…

I really don’t blame myself for being hyper vigilant at the time and honestly I was going through a lot then, even if I wanted to I wouldn’t have touched LiS 2 cause it’s a very heavy tasking game to play

I know I kinda made it seem like I didn’t like this game but I did, its the best one in terms of the choice system

It had more weight to it, seeing Daniel internalizing what you say to him or how you act around him was so cool

Also what the second game has over the first one aside from the choices system is the ending selection- I never liked picking the endings for max, I wanted her to pick the ending or her coding/script to do that

Its definitely more fleshed out technically even though LiS 1 has a special place in my heart it’s always gonna be no. 1- but im also glad that I got to experience the 2nd game for the first time, I liked it

Personal lis ranking

1: Lis 1

2: Lis 2

3: True colors

Discount bin: BtS

My personal fave moments from LiS 2:

- beating up the racist bully and giving him a concussion

-mushroom (rip icon)

- victorias letter

-winning that that bear from that claw machine

-gorillaz song that was not feel good inc

-Brody pointing at a fucked up looking arcadia bay yelling “that’s the past!”- that was hilarious

-Sean paying tribute to Arcadia bay in his sketchbook (this fucking kid man, he’s so sweet he deserves the world- what did he do to make DONTNOD mad at him)

- the wolf animation and the story that plays before every chapter

-this was the worst hate crime in the whole game

#life is strange #life is strange 2 #sean diaz #Daniel Diaz #lis #lis 2

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leodette · 5 months ago

Text

I Never Wanna See You Walk Away | LN4 | Part 3

fandom: Formula 1

pairing: Lando Norris x OC (not named)

names/faceclaims: -

summary: "dj you said?"

warning: age difference (older woman x younger man)

requested: yes / no

**********

Lando checked himself in the mirror once again. He usually didn't take so much care about his looks when he went out. It was usually jeans, a T-shirt, and a cap or snapback. This time though, he wanted to look the best version of himself, only for his own inner feelings. That was what he said to himself, before admitting even in his own head that it was bullshit and that he wanted to impress the woman who was supposed to be in the DJ booth that evening.

In the final, he ended with black jeans, a white linen shirt with a few top buttons undone, and his usual set of necklaces and bracelets.

"Mate, you ready?" a voice yelled from the bottom of his parent’s house, and Lando smiled. He missed his best friend. Max came to see his parents too, and brought Pietra with him. Cisca and Flo decided to tag along, the first one taking her boyfriend too, and so it wouldn't be just a solo attendance for the papaya driver. He didn't mind though. And even if Max seemed a bit surprised about Lando's request to go to the local nightclub, he kind of accepted the explanation that "the darkest spot is under the light" and that "no one would expect them there". This was probably true, but also no one would expect Lando to go there for one specific person.

"You look nice," P exclaimed when he finally ran down the stairs, Lando smiling and hugging his friend gently before clapping hands with Max. "Just so you know, I will want details about this specific reason," Max murmured while patting Lando's back, making Lando huckle. Max knew him well, sometimes almost too well.

"All right everyone, off to the car we go!" Flo yelled from the hallway, sending the frantic squabble as the whole group pushed around to find their shoes, jackets, bags, and eventually also car keys.

"And those two wonder why I never take them out," Lando murmured as he took a pair of the obnoxiously white sneakers from the rack, grunting when Cisca hit him in the ribs with her elbow.

---

They all looked at Lando with raised eyebrows when he said the names to the guys by the door, and one of them promptly showed them to a side booth with quite comfortable seats and a round table in the middle, complimentary shots of tequila already there.

He though explained nothing. Why should he? He ignored their looks and concentrated on the DJ booth. His trousers were tight, and he was careful to not draw attention to it. She came into the booth shortly after they arrived. The DJ who did the first gig of the night announced her, and the regulars applauded as she stepped out backstage. And Lando knew at that moment that he was in trouble.

Gone was the elegantly dressed lady from the zoo. In her place was a woman who got every man in the room on his knees. Hair in a high sleek ponytail, black minidress, blood red Converse, and a deep red lipstick. She applauded back to the crowd before hitting the controller, and giving the crowd their first taste of her music of the night, throwing them in deep end with her version of Pitbull's 'I Feel Good'.

"Is she the reason why you were so adamant about coming?" Max yelled in Lando's ear, having to raise his voice because of the loud music.

She was currently dancing behind the counter, her hair swishing from one side to the other. Her eyes closed, her arms raised. She was in her zone, enjoying every single second of it, and Lando felt like he was in a trance. Yes, he had beautiful women next to him every single day. But none of those women would share a banana split with him. Or would drink from his coffee cup after knowing him for an hour. Or would be so gentle with Mila? No. Those women had one single prize - and that was him. And more often than not - his money.

"Maybe she is," Lando yelled back at Max, shrugging like he didn't give a fuck. The girls left the boys in the booth, running down to the dance floor, enjoying the evening, and Lando knew it was only a matter of time before they would join them. For now, though, he wanted to enjoy the view he had. She played, interacted with the audience, and even did a wish song for a girl who was celebrating her birthday that evening.

"Before I switch off, let's celebrate a home hero who races fast cars for a living," she announced to the microphone close to the end of her gig, and Lando who just took a huge gulp of his water sputtered it out, coughing and earning a big hit in between his shoulder blades from Cisca's boyfriend. The crowd started cheering when she turned back down, and the first tunes of the familiar tunes of Brian Tyler's iconic theme hit the speakers, combined with the sound of race cars going by.

The hands started clapping, feet stomping, dancers jumping in time to the beat, and Lando only watched with his mouth open as she looked right at him, that dangerous smirk firmly on her face, and winked at him. She fuckin winked at him. What a simple wink can do to a man? Let me tell you, A LOT. Sweat was sparkling on her forehead when she hit the beat and clapped in the rhythm together with the other, enjoying herself in a way Lando would never expect. And just like that... her gig was done and she left the booth, waving to the audience who were screaming with excitement, showing their appreciation for the older woman who just made the whole dance floor jump to the freaking F1 theme.

"Be right back!" Lando yelled at Max and before anyone could say anything, he was off to the side door, hoping to catch her before she disappeared. He weaved himself through the crowd, in fact not caring if someone recognized him or not, and he just saw her talking to the guard by the door who held the door open for her.

He yelled her name, quite loud, and she turned on her heel, her eyes reminding him of a deer in the headlights before softening down and a darling smile appearing on her lips.

"That's okay, let him in," she told to the guy and motioned him to get through the door first, Lando blushing when the bouncer smirked at him.

Then, the door closed... and they were alone in the corridor. Lando watched with fascination as she turned to him, her forehead still shiny with sweat, one of the drops making its way down the column of her throat. The burning desire settled deep in his stomach as she opened another door and slipped into a simple room with a table, a small couch, and a clothing rack.

"So? Too old to play for youngsters?" she turned to him, a towel in her hand as she started drying the sweat off.

Lando was stunned speechless. What was it about her that it brought him to his knees with such a small normal act like wiping off her neck and face?!

"C'mon, cat got your tongue?" she laughed, throwing the towel at him and grabbing a bottle of water. "Want some?" she offered it to him as well, but Lando already shook himself off of the shock. He took the bottle from her hand, got a small sip, and then with a bold move wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to his chest. She yelped, clearly not expecting such a turn of events, but only for a second, then her eyes switched and the siren look she had since the first moment he met her was back.

"No boyfriend?" he whispered, their breaths mixing, only a touch away from each other. She laid one hand on his upper arm, the one he was holding her with, and the other on his chest.

"No," she breathed the answer back.

He nudged her nose with his.

"No husband?"

She shook her head negatively.

"No kids?"

"None."

Lando smiled. For the first time that evening, he felt like he got an upper hand in the situation. She was breathing rapidly, her pupils dilated, and he swore he could feel her heart going crazy in her chest.

"Live nearby?" he leaned in and breathed the last question in her ear, making her shiver and goosebumps appear on her body.

"Two blocks from here," came the answer, and with that the dam was broken as she had enough of his teasing, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and yanked him forward, smashing her lips at his.

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Tags (if u wanna be tagged, let me know in my inbox)

@coff33andb00ks @2pagenumb @llando4norris @poppyflower-22

#lando norris #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #formula 1 #f1 #mclaren #ln4

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