#max uses sex to deal with said feelings
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Okay I think I have enough of this WIP written to post a sneek peak and see what everyone thinks.
This came from a tik tok ABO prompt vids that keep popping up 🙈🙈🙈
The prompt was what if an Alpha can only ever knot their true mate.
I’ve been watching old races (i wasnt really into f1 between 2018-2022 with my fav drivers Fernando and Jensen retiring and I didn’t have a connection with other drivers at the time) while I train for a 1/2 marathon. It got me thinking and this child was born.
WIP is untitled for now ( but the doc is saved as Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling. )
Pairing: Charles / Max , side Lando/ Carlos , side Oscar/Arthur/Ollie (my fav throple)
Also
Max/ Lance , Max/Lando , Max/ Nicolas Letifi , Max/ Nyck de Vries
(The omegas Max fucks to figure out his issues 🙈🙈🙈🙈 )
Lestappen is end game!
Rated: E (Max fucks alot)
Summary: After newly presenting as an alpha, at 16, Max finds himself alone with Charles after a karting race, where hormones take over, and they have sex.
10 years later, Max has a secret—he hasn’t been able to knot inside another omega since that night with Charles. When Lando Norris uncovers the truth, he makes it his mission to help Max sleep with Charles again, determined to find out if there’s something deeper at play.
Context for below: It’s post season 2023. Lando and Max are conversing over lestappen moments that happened in Vegas and Abu Dahbi.
Let me know what y’all think!
“But it shows that everyone’s else is catching on how much closer you two have become lately,” Lando observed, pausing. “And that waist grab at the end…” He covered his mouth in excitement. “So possessive, Verstappen—no one’s going to take him away.”
"Shut the fuck up!" Max snapped at the omega, his blue eyes narrowing into a fierce glare.
Max could hardly believe what he was hearing. As he reflected on the past year, he began to wonder if perhaps Charles had indeed been seeking him out to talk racing—and maybe, just maybe, there was more to it.
Over the winter break, despite his busy schedule as world champion, Max found himself casually mentioning Charles in interviews—a quiet, secret way of showing that he never stopped paying attention.
#1633#charles leclerc#lestappen#max verstappen#f1#fanfiction#new fic alert#abo#tik tok prompt#max in his feelings#max uses sex to deal with said feelings#im using this fic as smut practise#also i suck at writing conversation so theres alot of that in this#send me asks for more#carlando#my fav prema throple#sorry logan
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Hi, could I get a swiss roll with a figgy duff and a side of champagne served by Max Verstappen?
Thank you in advance 🫶
bakery menu!!
want to submit an order? then hit up the menu! i'd love to hear from you and everything you wish to suggest! requests are still open, but updates won't be posted from sept 23rd-29th 2024 due to a vacation! but feel free to submit orders for when i return! for this lovely anon i hope you love this fic, i am very proud of how everything turned out! thank you again for ordering and have a great day! <3
swiss roll ("everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you.") + figgy duff ("if i buy it, will you stop pouting?") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, stuffed animal abuse, couch sex, jealousy, doggy style, daddy kink
max knew that he could have next to anything he wanted. his entire world was his oyster before thirty. his salary would make some gasp, but it simply made him grin. he pushed himself to his limits to get on top, and he wasn't stopping now.
but even the greats had their weaknesses. and for max that came in the form of soft eyes and softer lips with a deep likeness for hello kitty.
"is this one hello kitty? it looks like a rabbit?" max asked as he looked over at your phone screen to see what you were looking at. or rather in what ways were you going to use and abuse his credit card for the week.
in all fairness you could've abused his finances a lot harder and max would've been fine with it. he could retire from racing tomorrow and still spoil you till the sun burnt out. you still tried to find deals and coupons on things you wanted him to buy you. sometimes you still got hot in the face when you saw the total of a shopping cart.
you were raised in such a different world than him and max liked that. but, while he had a weak spot for your softness. you had a weak spot for stuffed animals. especially sanrio.
"no, no. they're not all hello kitty. this one is cinnamoroll, and he's a dog."
max looked at the screen a little closer, "looks like a rabbit to me."
you pointed at the screen, "no, no. look at his ears, those are dog ears." max nodded, still not totally convinced. who would draw a dog like that. but when you saw the price of the large stuffed animal, you pouted. and max noticed you were pouting.
he took the phone from you and when you tried to get your phone back. he placed his free hand on your forehead. he said, "if i buy it, will you stop pouting? i can afford it, treasure."
"but the import fees."
"they'll be paid." he added the stuffed animal to the cart. he didn't even look at the price in all fairness before he handed the phone back to you. you pouted further and max leaned in to kiss you on the lips, "enough of that. what else do you want?" then rubbed the top of your head with his large hand.
honestly, he knew very little about sanrio or hello kitty. he knew one time he kicked one of them off the bed in an attempt to get comfy after a long double header and you whined until he picked it up off the floor and apologized to the stuffed toy. but, anything for you, he supposed.
the plush toy along with some others arrived within a few weeks. max didn't really notice much of it until he caught you on the couch earlier that day with your arms wrapped around the stuffed toy. he hadn't realized how big it was, a little over a meter in size. it was soft with those long rabbit ears. but you were snuggled up with it watching television. you looked cute even with the t-shirt you wore slowly riding up over your stomach.
it made max stop in his tracked and divert from his path to the kitchen. you looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back. he said to you, "everything you hoped for?"
you nodded, "yeah, now i have something to cuddle when you're gone." your comment was innocent, but it stirred something in max. he got closer and you kept your gaze on him. you smiled a little bit when he leaned down to kiss you on the lips.
"oh? replacing me so soon?" he asked as he reached towards you and pushed your t-shirt a little higher. you hid your face a little further into the stuffed animals, "oh no, no, my love. don't hide from me." it was easy to get your shirt off of you.
he licked his lips while your breasts pressed against the stuffed animal. he knew he'd have you whining soon enough and it curled something in his gut at the sight of you. you were amazing. the perfect baby girl that max could ever have. while he was fine with you buying what you desired, he didn't want to be replaced with a stuffed toy.
because no stuffed toy could compare to your daddy.
"you better not replace me, my love. everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you. so there is no replacing me. i paid for these." he said as he pushed down your shorts and exposed the pretty panties underneath, "and i paid for your little friend." maybe max was a fool for being jealous over a stuffed animal, but your sudden attached to it made something curl in his brain.
you were soon naked and pressed against the stuffed animal. you looked over your shoulder at him and he pressed your face into the cinnamoroll plush, or whatever its name was. you whined, "daddy!"
"shh, shh. i need to make sure this rabbit knows who you belong to. or he's being sent back to wherever he came from."
you arched your back to pretty for him as you tried to argue, "it's a dog!"
he smacked your ass before he pulled away to get his t-shirt off. you behaved and kept your face pressed against the stuffed animal. he got out of his pants and underwear before he pressed his cock up against your ass. he said, "it could be a turtle for all i can. but, i need to make sure that you don't go running off with a stuffed toy while i'm away." he kissed the back of your neck as he rubbed himself up against you.
you whimpered and held onto the toy tighter, "daddy, please." then moaned when he sank his cock into you. it was true, he did pay for everything. you were there to look pretty and be the perfect girl for him.
"so pretty." he said, "i worry about you when i leave, you're so soft and could get into a lot of trouble." he groaned a little bit as he started to find his pace as he fucked you on the couch.
"i can be a good girl." you replied, you held onto the stuffed toy and drooled a little bit against it as max's cock hit up against some of your sweetest spots. your toes curled in your socks as he found his rhythm.
"i know. i know." he said, "but you should be cuddling me. not this toy. so i have to show it who's in charge." you couldn't help but giggle, but they were soon silenced when he pressed himself further against you and took you by the face and kissed you deeply on the lips.
his thrusts were fast, and it forced you further up against the couch. the kisses were hot and made you feel warm all over. your sweet noises even while you kissed made max run hot. he knew that only he could make you feel this good. he knew that he ruined you, and that you'd always yearn for his cock.
you drooled a little more when the kiss broke and your face found comfortable against the fur of the toy. you clung to it tightly for some kind of support but max had full control of the pace. you felt a little hazy in the brain as he continued to fuck you.
"i love you." you said softly.
"and i love you." he replied, "can't help but be a little jealous sometimes. anyone would be lucky to have you, but i have you all to myself. everything you own belongs to me, paid with my credit card. maybe i should make you wear my name at all times so nobody gets the wrong idea." his words were hot and flooded with brain with a heightened pleasure.
max continued to thrust against you. soon his pace became quicker and rougher. he pressed you further against the couch and the toy. he kissed you once more, it was rough against your lips as you came around his cock.
you clung to the stuffed animal as you tensed up. you panted through the kiss as you nails dug into the plush toy, only loosening your grip when you came down from your climax.
face pressed once more into the soft fur as max rocked himself against you, almost bouncing you on his cock. he pressed into you further before he finished inside of you. he shuddered as he finished. eventually he slowed down until a stop then pulled out. he panted heavily and used his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
he admired your backside before he put you onto your back. he looked at the stuffed animal, the embroidered eyes looked at him and he smiled. he said to the toy, "she's mine."
you placed your hands on his face and said, "c'mon, max! he isn't going to replace you!"
"he won't when i'm finished with you." <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#reader insert#formula one imagine#formula 1#formula one fanfiction#formula one smut#f1 smut#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#max smut#max verstappen#mv33 fic#mv1 x reader#mv33 smut#mv1 smut#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv1#mv1 imagine#mv1 drabble#mv1 fic#red bull racing#formula one#f1 x female reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1
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Hey lovely 🩶
Can I please have Lando Norris with a thick crust, red sauce, cilantro, spinach and roasted mushrooms, and some Sprite and sweet tea. And some dessert too. Thank youuuuu!!!
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
thick crust sugar daddy red sauce rough sex cilantro "Stop crying and fucking take it" spinach "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock" roasted mushrooms “Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” sweet tea dumbification sprite size kink dessert yes served by Lando Norris
Lando x Sugar Baby! reader
TW rough sex, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, crying, multiple orgasms, subspace
WC 1100+
Y/N POV
"Lando, I'm ready to leave," I say with a bright smile across my face after doing some damage on the card Lando gave me.
"Thank god, thought I was gonna have to sell a car if we stayed another minute," Lando joked making my face heat slightly.
"I'm sorry," I reply softly making Lando scoff and pull me into his chest for a quick hug before pulling away and leading us to the exit to head back to his place.
"Nothing to be sorry about. I told you to max that card out. You've been a terrible sugar baby lately. Taking my cock like you were made for it while letting that damn black card collect dust. We have a deal," Lando says once we got into the car and had some privacy.
"It makes me feel like a prostitute when I spend your money because you're fucking me," I tell Lando making his laugh slightly.
"Probably the prettiest prositute I've ever scene," Lando jokes back making me hit his chest and mumble "probably"
When we pull into Lando's apartment parking garage I climb out of the car and grab a few of the bags from the back seat before Lando grabs the rest and leads us up to his apartment.
Once we got into the apartment I put my bags near the front door so I remembered to bring them home when I left later tonight or tomorrow morning.
Lando pulled me along like an impatient child into his room where he pulled me towards him and started kissing me.
"Fuck Lan," I moan when Lando found the sweet spot on my neck, he placed a few wet kisses on it before he sinks his teeth into my neck and sucks making sure to leave a mark I would have to cover up for the next several days.
"Make sure you remember who you belong to when I'm gone this weekend," Lando says while pulling my little summer dress off my body leaving me in just a skimpy thong since I hadn't put a bra on this morning.
When I was standing bare in front of Lando he pinches my nipples making my body jerk slightly and whimpering loudly when he twists my nipple.
"Such a responsive little thing," Lando mocks with a smirk before helping me step out of my panties where he pushes me onto the bed
Lando pulls his shirt off leaving him in his black jeans before climbing on top of me and starts placing soft kisses on my sensitive nipples before biting down on one of them making me whimper loudly.
Once Lando finally made it to my pussy he runs a few fingers through my folds with a smirk before shoving his soaked fingers into my mouth making me lick them clean of my own slick.
"Fuck Lan," I gasp when he shoves them back in and starts teasing my sensitive G-spot.
"Such a good little thing for me," Lando mumbles just before he leans down and pulls my clit into his mouth and sucking it into his moan.
"Oh fuck," I moan loudly while thrashing my hips slightly from the intense pleasure.
"Stop moving," Lando said slapping my thigh a few times making me whimper at the sting.
When Lando pulls my clit back into his mouth I can feel my orgasm starting to build again, making Lando speed up his actions bringing me right to the edge before pulling away to just watch me whine and beg.
"Please," I beg out through a loud whine. Lando just laughs in a mocking tone before roughly rubbing my clit for a few seconds just to watch me scream at the rough pleasure.
"Please, more," I start begging through pleasured tears needing more. Lando finally climbs off the bed and pulls his pants off where he climbs back into the bed and roughly shoves his cock deep into my pussy making me whine out when he doesn't give me any time to adjust to the intrusion.
"Lan," I cry out when he starts roughly thrusting.
"Stop crying and fucking take it," Lando says while speeding up his thrusts enjoying the way I was crying for me.
Lando could tell I was close to losing myself in the pleasure which has his bringing his hand down to my clit where he roughly starts rubbing it knowing I would start cumming soon.
"Go on, cum, I know you don't know how to use your words right now," Lando says instantly throwing me into a thrashing orgasm where I try to get away from the intense pleasure but Lando keeps fucking into me making my brain go numb only being able to think about the pleasure coursing through my body.
"Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock," Lando teases while moving his hand away from my clit letting me focus solely on the way he was thrusting against my sensitive G-spot.
"Lan," I moan out making Lando smirk.
"Awe, she speaks," Lando mocks making me scream when he starts thrusting harder and hotting my cervix each time he pushes all the way in.
"Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock," Lando says making me open my eyes and look down to see the bulge in my tummy each time Lando pushed all the way in.
"Ruined you for anyone else," Lando says with a small smirk on his face before pushing down on the bulge making me scream out when it adds more to the overwhelming pleasure.
"Cum," I mumble out softly not being able to think fully.
"Go on," Lando tells me making instantly start cumming all over his cock.
"Fuck I love the way your pussy squeezes me when you cum," Lando groans, just before he starts cumming deep in my pussy making me whine eat time a rope of cum hit the walls of my pussy.
"Fuck," Lando groans roughly still spilling his seed into me before softly slipping out and letting a few ropes of cum paint my tummy a little.
I was far too lost in my own pleasure I didn't even realize Lando had climbed out of bed and cleaned me up until he was climbing back into bed and pulling me into his chest and stroking my hair.
"Come back to me sweet girl," Lando says softly while placing soft kisses around my face.
"Mhm," I mumble against Lando's chest burying my face farther into his neck.
"Come on love," Lando says while pushing my chin up so he can look into my eyes.
"Are you okay?" Lando asks softly when he realizes I am starting to come back to earth.
"Yes," I whisper back to Lando before leaning up and pulling him in for a soft kiss.
"Look so pretty all blissed out," Lando tells me softly making me smile.
I cuddle more into Lando's chest allowing sleep to take over my body.
#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 x you#formula 1 x you#formula one imagines#f1 smut#lando norris#formula one smut#formula 1 smut#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando x you#lando norris x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagines#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#ln4 x y/n#ln4 smut#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#oscar piastri#ln4#mclaren f1#ln4 fic
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"We aren't a family, sir!"
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"We aren't a family, sir! You are the boss! We are the employees!"
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"Who's that?"
"Oh, her? That's just Loona. What a nightmare. Serious attitude problems... She'll be out of our hair next month when she ages out. Good riddance, if you ask me. She'll never amount to anything much."
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"Fuck, Blitzo! Why can't you stay out of my face for, like, five minutes?!"
"Because, I adopted you! And that should mean something!"
"Oh, what does it matter?! You're not my real dad! I was almost eighteen!"
"It still counts!"
"Well, it shouldn't! I didn't need you then, asshole! I don't, now!"
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"I love you, dad."
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"Okay, not much of a talker, are you? I'm Blitzo, the "o" is silent. I'm sure we're going to get along just fine. So, what's your deal? What'd you do? Who'd you diddle? You look like someone good with a gun. You look like someone who could shoot up an office-"
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"I'm just worried about Millie. She'll be on her way by now, I'm sure!"
"Ugh, she'll be fine, Moxxie. It would take a roided-up hippo to take down that woman when she's upset."
"We've never dealt with the human government before! She's in danger!"
"Do you ever honestly shut up about Millie?! It's always "Oh, how's Millie?" "I can't tonight. I'm hangin' with Millie!" "I'm so worried about Millie!" And she's ALWAYS... FIVE FUCKIN' FEET away from you! It's pathetic!"
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"Do you remember what you said to me after my first day with the company?"
"Not really..."
"I remember. You told me I did a good job and that you were proud to work with me. I feel like you wanted to say something more judgmental, but... you said that because I needed it... And it helped."
"Look, I'm hard on you, because I know what you're capable of, Mox. You care too much about what everyone thinks except for... me, because, y'know, my opinion is correct, but just... keep doing a good job. 'Kay? You shoot 'n kill good, you escape things easy... you can be strategic and cold-blooded when you need to, aaaand don't expect any more compliments; I'm maxed out."
"Thank you, sir."
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"Who the fuck are you?"
"Someone with an eye for potential. Now you wanna keep working for peanuts, or do you want to shake things up?"
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"I'm done. I don't wanna play ghost hunter with you, and I-"
"Uh, it's ghost-fuckers"
"I wasn't done! You know, I always love to have fun with you, and I ain't said boo to you moping around like a sad sack for weeks. But we have bills to pay... So look, you can go be pathetic and play sex ghosts, if that's what you need to do, but I gotta get this job done!"
"Fine! Who needs you anyway!? Bethany Ghost-Fucker works ALONE!"
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"We're just Wrathians, Blitz. Muscle. It's all we're good for, all I'm good for. It's why you hired me. Any demon good at making a buck is welcome in Lust or Greed, but here? Demons like us ain't cut out for this."
"Uh... fuck you!"
"What?"
"Millie, I have spent too much of my time, energy, and holes into setting this up for us to entertain your bullshit. I brought you into this company for a reason, okay? You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring..."
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"Look. What I said earlier, you've just always been so unbothered by everything. Almost bulletproof and, I guess I never realized how much I depended on that. I didn't know how to react to you being reduced to…Bethany. But I should've respected you like you always do for me. I'm sorry."
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"NO! Not them, Your Highness! It was me, it was all me, okay? Y-you can't expect to teach anyone a lesson by killing all of us!"
"You dare try to tell me how to PUNISH!?"
"Look, all that Hell is gonna see is you executing imps who are just trying to do their job! I'm the rogue here, not them!"
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"Blitz, what are you doing?"
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"Your Highness, please. Blitz just--"
"Moxxie, stop."
"Blitz, I can't let you-"
"This big red bitch never planned on hearing us out... Just... just take care of Loona for me."
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"I love you, guys."
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"Sir-sir, you're here!"
"Dad!"
"Don't you ever do that to me again, you fucking idiot!"
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Moxxie was right, they are most definitely not a family. /sarcasm
#helluva boss#blitzo#blitzø#helluva boss blitz#ro rambles#helluva blitz#moxxie knolastname#helluva boss moxxie#millie helluva boss#helluva millie#helluva loona#loona#IMP#I.M.P
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🇬🇧 || Satisfy The Fans || LH44 x RBR driver!Reader
Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, angst (?), (implied) age gap, fake dating, drunken confession, mutual pining, slow burn,
Wordcount: 3.1k
From the start of her f1 career, she had always had a close relationship with Lewis, so the small pecks on the forehead she got from him wasn’t abnormal, but when it got caught by a paparazzi, it turned the whole internet towards them
Paddock affair: Hamilton and young driver
That was the days headline. She sat scrolling on her phone when she heard the bickering from the garage
She had yet to read it herself, but the small talks from behind her got her curious
“What are you whispering about back there?” She turned her head behind her to see Max, Christian and a few mechanics standing in a small circle
They all froze when they heard her voice. None of them answered, but it was clear they had heard her, so they couldn’t exactly ignore her
Christian was the one to speak up after he cleared his throat “Are you… Dating Hamilton?” He asked, hesitation obvious in his eyes
“What?” She was confused by his question “No. What makes you think that?” She asked with knitted eyebrows
He looked back into his phone and read aloud from it “Paddock affair: Hamilton and young driver. During the Australian qualifying sessions, Lewis Hamilton and Y/N Y/L/N was seeing kissing” He locked his phone and looked back up at her
“Huh?” She was even more confused “Did you get that from twitter? I’ve never kissed Lewis in my entire life” She explained “It was a peck on my forehead. He does it all the time” She shrugged
“So you’re telling me they’re lying?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest
“Yes. Yes, I am” She chuckled, turning back to her phone “Don’t believe everything you reading on the internet, Christian. Especially if it’s on twitter”
After the race that Sunday, she came knocking on Lewis’ hotel door “You’ve read the rumours?” She pushed past him, not even bothering to greet him
“I have, yeah” He watched as she kicked off her shoes and threw her body onto the bed, messing up the sheets “Wine?”
“Do you have something stronger?” She asked, drawing out a chuckle from him
“Anything specific in mind?” He asked, watching her roll over on her stomach, her hair already a mess
“Anything above 25% and I’ll be happy” She sat up, leaning against the headboard as he found whatever alcohol he could
“We drink too much” She sighed as he came over with a bottle and two glasses
“Who cares?” He asked, sitting down on the bed with her
“Other than our livers, kidneys, and doctors, nobody” She said, watching her glass getting filled up with liquor
They sat for a few hours, drinking and talking, feeling the alcohol really start to kick in as they neared midnight
“What if we actually dated?” He asked, earning a pair of raised eyebrows from her “I’m not suggesting we date, I’m just saying, what do you think the internet would be like if we actually dated?”
“They wouldn’t get out of our faces, I think” She said, emptying her glass down her throat, too used to it to feel the burn
He just looked at her as she pouted from the empty glass “You want to, don’t you?” She asked, seeing the glint in his eye when she looked back at him
“We both know we don’t have feelings for each other, but it would be fun to see, Y’know?” He said, switching their glasses so she had his filled one and his were empty
“You know what? Let’s fake date, Lew” She took out her hand like they were making a deal
“Get that hand away” He slapped her hand away with a laugh on his lips
“Imagine all the fans were gonna satisfy” She said, another empty glass in her hands
For the next race, they had both informed their PR managers, but no one else, and they made sure to be seen as much as possible out in public together, as well as in the paddock
They arrived together at the paddock, talk in between practice sessions, and whenever it was possible to get some free time
Saturday after qualifying, they took a stroll down the city. They hadn’t realised the time, and they had stayed out until late
It was getting dark and cold in the streets, but it was too beautiful to go back to the hotel. They walked a few steps before Lewis stopped in his tracks
“What?” She turned around, looking up at him
“Let’s satisfy the fans, no?” She didn’t get to answer before he had pulled her body into his, holding her face with one hand as the other were on her waist, kissing her lips soft
She was too startled to kiss back, yet her hands were placed softly on his waist. He pulled back slightly, looking at her surprised expression
“There’s a paparazzi across the street. Wanna make it believable, right?” He smiled as he surprised state faded into a friendly smile
“Idiot” She slapped his chest softly before she were able to get out of his grip and started walking again
“You told us you weren’t dating” Max came bursting into her drivers room without knocking, making her yelp slightly
“Jeez, ever heard about knocking?” He just stood there silently “Anyway… What are you talking about?”
She watched as he took out his phone, typing at it. She took the phone from him when he handed it too her
She was met by the image of her and Lewis the day before, standing in each others arms kissing
“Oh, yeah. That was taken yesterday, Max” She explained, handing him his phone back “So what I told you was technically the truth”
“So you are dating?” He asked surprised
“Yes. Yes, we are” She said, standing up from the couch, walking past him to get out into the garage again
“Uh-uh. We aren’t done here” He said, following behind her like a lost puppy
“Since when did you start caring about my love life?” She sighed, walking over to her side
“Since it evolved the rival” He whispered, pulling her out to the said
“Look, Max, it’s not like I’m gonna bring it on to the track. People can have separate relationships on and off the track. Do you trust me to make this work?” He nodded but not without hesitation “Thank you”
Soon enough, all the drivers had heard about their ‘relationship’, as well as the team principals
“Y/N, how did your relationship with Lewis start?” She hadn’t thought about the interviews when they made their agreement
“Well, we’ve always had a close relationship as friends, and I guess that we slowly realised our feelings for each other the more time we spend with each other” She explained, coming up with a lie as quick as she could
“That’s actually quite sweet” The interviewer smiled “How are you handling all the hate?”
“We’re both handling it fine. I think people should get love who they love despite their age gap, as long as it’s a reasonable range, of course” She said, fiddling with her fingers
“Alright, thank you, Y/N” She walked away after a quick goodbye
“You okay?” Lewis had grabbed her attention before she had fully stomped off
“‘M fine” Her voice was telling the absolute opposite
“Come here” He pulled her body close into a hug, his lips meeting the top of her head, soothing her back down to earth
“Thank you, Lew” She pulled away and walked towards her crew who led her back to her drivers room
“Can we get back to the interview, Lewis?” The interviewer asked as his eyes still lingered on her body walking away
“Of course, sorry” He said, turning his head back to the person in front of him
“It’s quite alright. You two are very cute together” She said, making Lewis smile the slightest “Now, how did this begin- the relationship between you two?”
“We’ve always been close friends, and I guess the more we hung out and knew each other, our feeling for each other became more than friendly” The only thoughts in his head at the moment; what would it be like to actually date her?
Their act has been going on for half a year now, and it was going good, she still got startled when he kissed her after seeing a paparazzi and she didn’t. She would never get used to the feeling of his lips against hers
They were in her hotel room, sharing a bottle of whatever liquor they had, talking about everything and nothing
After about half an hour, he called it quits and said he had to go to sleep, so he went back to his own room a floor under her
As soon as he had closed the hotel door to her room, she took her phone out, typing up Max’ name
Can you come in here? I need your help with sm
Give me 2
About those two minutes went by before she heard the knock on her door “Thank god” She said relived as he stepped into the room
“What do you need help with?” He asked, sensing the worries in her body language
“Lewis” She watched as he knitted his eye brows together “I don’t know if he loves me” She had started to feel the changes a month after they started ‘dating’
He had become more caring, more sweet, more like a boyfriend than the friend she used to have
“What do you mean? Of course he does” He said, sitting down on the edge of the bed “I’ve seen the way he looks at you”
“Yeah, but that’s all an act. He doesn’t love me like I love him” Max became even more confused by her words
“All an act? What?” His face was pure confusion
“Me and Lewis never dated, not really anyways” She sighed, sitting down on the bed as well
“We fake dated to see what would happen” She said once she saw his expression
“Okay” He nodded slightly “So what makes you think he doesn’t have feelings for you?” He asked, wanting to help her
“The day we started ‘dating’, he said ‘we both know we don’t have feelings for each other’, and I get that, we’re good friends. I don’t think he ever would have feelings for me” She explained, feelings her throat almost close up
“I’m positive he doesn’t have feelings for me, Max” He sighed hearing her words
“Wait, so you’re telling me you two never dated?” George was as confused as Max had been just a minute ago
“Did any other words come out of my mouth?” Lewis asked, tone full of sarcasm
“Wow, getting sassy early” George said, raising his eyebrows at his teammate
“I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do. She obviously doesn’t have feeling for me” He slumped down on the couch, the air coming out in a huff
“You could just talk to her, tell her how it is” George shrugged, trying to help his teammate
“And risk loosing our friendship? No thank you. Rather live like this than without her” Lewis explained, thinking of all the bad things that could happen if he told her
She just wished she could tell him
He just wished he could tell her
Abu Dhabi rolled around, and she had going at it with the partying for a while before she had headed to bed
Around 1:30am, she heard a knock on the door that startled her awake. Now that she was awake, she could just answer the door
“Lewis?” Her eyes was still blurry from the fact she still wasn’t fully awake
“Can I come in?” His words were slurred, very obviously drunk
She sighed as she took in the state of him “Sure, baby” The pet names was something they had agreed on was okay, and they were used so much in public it had gotten into their private lives as well
She closed the door behind him as he took a few steps in. She barely got to turn around before he was spilling words at her
“I love you. I love you so, so much. I have loved you since we started dating, and I can’t keep it in anymore” He had taken her face into his hands
“Lewis-“ “Just let me love you” He had pulled her face into his kiss her softly. She put her hands on his chest, pushing him away
“You’re drunk, Lewis. You don’t know what you’re saying” She said, taking his hands away from her face, pulling them down to rest at his side
“What is it that they say? ‘Drunk words are sober thoughts’” He said, taking a step closer to her
“Lewis, you’re too drunk to be allowed to speak. Will you just go to bed?” She asked, letting him take that step forward
“Will you join me?” He asked, obvious hurt in his eyes
“Do you promise to sleep?” He nodded, not daring to speak “Then I will” She sighed, starting to guide him over to the bed
He got out of his jeans before she got him under the covers. She laid down beside his already dozing off body
He scooted closer to her, curling his body into her arms, sighing at the feeling of her warm body
As he woke up, she wasn’t in bed
“Morning” She said, handing him a glass of water and a two painkillers of some kind
He sat up right, taking the glass and pills “What would I do without you. I love you” He swallowed the pills before taking a sip of the water
“I know. You already said that today” She said, sitting back down on the bed
“What? When?” He was confused, remembering nothing of the sort
“Around 1:30 after you woke me up” She explained
“Oh my god. I am so sorry, really, I am” He looked away from her
“Lew, it’s fine-“ “No, it’s not. I’m really sor-“ He was silenced when she had forced his head towards her and had connected their lips
“I love you too, Lewis” She had pulled slightly back, seeing his pupils darken, taking the brown in them away
“You do?” He asked softly, almost like his words got stuck in his throat “Like, you *really* do?” A smile formed in the corner of his mouth as he put the glass onto the nightstand
She kissed him again, proving her point. He groaned into the kiss as it got more sloppy and heated
He had gotten her pinned down to the bed, lips going from her mouth and down her neck, leaving a few lovebites behind as he moved to the other side of her neck
“Lew, please” She whined, bucked her hips up into his, trying to get more friction
He scooted down the bed, his lips landing on the insides of her bare thighs. His fingers hooked into the waist band of her shorts, pulling them down
She whined as his lips made their way back to her inner thighs, leaving marks behind
“Please, Lewis. I need you so bad” Her breath stuttered as he pulled her panties down slowly, his fingers ghosting her skin
He wasted no time to draw his tongue through her wet folds the moment her panties were removed
“Fuck, Lew” She bucked her hips into his mouth, gripping the sheets beneath her harshly
She moaned loud when his tongue settled on her clit, putting pleasurable pressure on it
“Lewis, please” She arched her back off of the bed, her knuckles turning white from the grip in the sheets
Two of his fingers teased her entrance, making her whine as his tongue started flicking her clit, making her moan loud
He slowly started setting a pace with his fingers, curling them every now and then, hitting the spot inside her that made her body shake
“Lewis, please. Don’t stop- fuck, feels so good” Her words were slurred as she neared her orgasm, clenching rapidly around his fingers
“Fuck, Lew- ‘M gonna come, please” He sped up his fingers, curling them every time, sending her over the edge
She came with cry of his name, her whole body shaking, her chest rising and falling at a rapid speed
He kissed the insides of her thighs, soothing her out of her orgasm “Please, Lew… I need…” She still had trouble speaking from her orgasm
“I know. Don’t worry. I’m right here” He got off of the bed. He quickly removed his clothes and got back on the bed between her legs
She put her legs around his hips, pushing further against her as he started prepping small kisses to her neck and throat
He slowly entered her, drawing out moans from both of them. He stilled his hips, letting her adjust to him before he started moving
“Move, please” Her hands were all over the skin she could reach before settling at his back as he started moving
“Fuck, you feel so good, baby” He whimpered as her nails dug into his back, scraping along his skin
He angled her hips in a way that made him it hit that perfect spot inside her that made her moan loud
“Fuck, right there, Lew- fuck” He sped up, making sure to hit the same spot over and over again
“‘M so close- fuck, baby” The way she was rapidly clenching around him drew him closer to the edge
The next room over could probably hear their skin against skin sounds as well as their mixed moans
“Fuck, you clench so good ‘round me, love” He leaned down and prepped kisses above her breast
“Baby, please-“ She didn’t even know what she was pleading for, but she knew she could feel him getting close as well as he was twitching inside her
“Mhm, right behind you, baby” She took the cue and within a couple of thrusts, her body shook yet again with his name rolling off her tongue
And as promised, he was right behind her, stilling his hips as he came inside her with a moan
He slowed down his hips, circling her hipbone with his thumbs as she came down from her high
He pulled out of her, drawing a whine from both of them at the loss of contact between the two of them
They both sat in the bathtub, her back against his chest, his hands rubbing her thighs as she was slowly drifting away into a sleep
“Will you be my girlfriend?” They way his lips felt against her cheekbone woke her up
She turned her head to face him “Yes. Yes, I will” She smiled, pulling his face into a soft kiss
#smut#formula one#lewis hamilton x reader smut#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton
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Christmas baking with max my darling please and thank you xo @postracehair
whatever thanks for your requesting i guess🫶🏽🙄
.
“I don’t think this is enough chocolate chips.”
You didn’t even need to turn your head, already reaching over to smack his hand away as your eyes continued to read the recipe on your phone. “It would be enough if you stopped eating them all.”
“Well, that was something that should have been taken into consideration when the recipe was made,” Max retorted.
“I don’t think having a hovering boyfriend was something the baker who wrote this recipe had in mind,” you mused, turning to find him eyeing up the bowl of chocolate chips still.
“I’m not hovering, I’m helping,” Max insisted because that was his original intention when he wandered into the kitchen before you began. “I cracked the eggs!”
“And you did such a good job, baby,” you assured him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. It was endearing the way his face instantly brightened.
“I thought you said everyone was bringing store bought stuff anyways,” Max commented absentmindedly, settling in behind you as he hooked his chin over your shoulder so his eyes could also scan over the recipe on your phone.
“They are,” you murmured, your brows furrowed as you skimmed over the steps. “But, I don’t know, it’s Christmas, you know? It would be nice to have something homemade too.”
You could feel Max’s smile against your skin as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. “How thoughtful of you.”
“Don’t patronise me,” you murmured, smiling a little when you felt Max laughing behind you.
“Never,” he grinned. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my chances of getting a cookie after you’re done.”
You tilted your head back to look at him. “Only if you make us both hot chocolate.”
“Deal,” he nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he began moving around the room.
As much as you loved your boyfriend, patience wasn’t always his virtue. You liked to think it came from the fact he was a racer, that he was so used to everything being fast paced and imminent that he didn’t know how to slow down and wait. It went against everything he knew and loved.
It was why cooking with him always ended up being an ordeal, Max insistent that he knew better than the recipe and turning up the heat higher than intended, just for the food to almost burn or even reach a point beyond repair.
You honestly assumed baking would fall under the same category, but you were pleasantly surprised at how seriously he took baking.
Or, as serious as Max Verstappen could get.
“Baby,” you choked out between laughs, looking at the array of cookies he was in charge of decorating.
“What?” Max asked innocently, as though his eyes weren’t crinkling with mischief. “It’s Christmas ornaments! Attached to a bit of rope!”
“It’s a dick,” you deadpanned.
“A festive dick,” Max corrected, looking far too pleased with himself as he continued. “Jingle Balls!”
“You’re such a dick,” you grumbled between your own laughter, letting him tug you close as he reached for you.
“A festive dick?” He asked in a teasing voice.
“I swear to god, if you attach ornaments or bells to your dick the next time we have sex, I am breaking up with you.”
Max only laughed louder in response.
.
#cece's stocking stuffers#max verstappen#formula one#f1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen fic#max verstappen one shot#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one one shot#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 one shot
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You are the best thing that's ever been mine - Part 5
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)
Summary: Sao Paulo 2024. The Dutchman delivered a defining drive…but maybe there is a relationship that could also use some defining.
Warnings: Jos Verstappen, angst, crying, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation
Author Notes: Hi, hey, hello! Apparently I write F1 Fanfiction now?! Also this is the first time I am trying a social media au so my Canva Skills were put to the test. (Disclaimer: I kinda put legibility over authencity, so twitter doesn't look like twitter and messages looks like...something) Also huge thanks to @onebigfangirlworld and @leodette for holding my hand with this 😘)
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“There are two more things we need to talk about,” Gemma said carefully.
She didn’t want to talk about more. Quite frankly, all Ariel wanted was to hug Max tightly. He had this unreadable expression on his face that told her that a storm was raging inside him, something they had only scratched the surface off.
She had never wanted to make him choose between her and his father…but this was what had happened regardless.
Hadn’t this been enough?
“First of all, do you want to give out a statement?” Gemma asked Max.
Max's expression darkened at the question, his jaw clenching a little. ”I don’t think it’s a question of what I want,” Max gave back.
She agreed.
Whatever Max said would be all over the media in no time…but saying nothing at all…wouldn’t go over well. The media would spin it into something worse.
Max would look like he didn't care, like he was trying to hide something, even when she knew the truth.
He sighed in irritation. "What do you suggest?" he asked Gemma.
Gemma seemed to understand his hesitation and frustration.
She sat up a little straighter in her seat, her expression professional.
“The press will know if you try to bullshit them,” she said drily. “Go with the truth. It was a completely inappropriate incident. And you ask for privacy at this time. Nothing too concrete.”
Max let out an annoyed huff, but nodded slowly.
"Yeah, let's go with that," he said in a resigned tone. "The last thing we need is the media speculating and starting another rumor."
Ariel sat quietly, still leaning against Max's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
She could hear the irritation in his voice, could feel the tension in him as he talked to Gemma about their next course of action.
She couldn't help but feel guilty that he was in this situation because of her. Because of what had happened earlier. She hated that he had to be dealing with this mess instead of enjoying the win he deserved.
“They are still running with the pregnancy…speculation,” Gemma said. “I need to know…Is it true? Is Ariel pregnant?”
This whole pregnancy question was a ridiculous thing to ask, but she understood why Gemma had brought it up.
She was trying to cover all the bases, to make sure that there weren't any unexpected surprises that could make the media circus even bigger.
“Nope,” Azriel said drily popping the p.
“Are you…sure?” Gemma pressed carefully.
Ariel suppressed a snort at Gemma's skeptical look. "I'm absolutely sure," she confirmed, her tone firm. She could sense the disbelief in Gemma's question, and she couldn't help but add with a hint of humor, "I've been celibate for the past year, so there's absolutely no chance that I'm pregnant. None whatsoever."
Now Gemma stared at her like she was insane.
“You want to tell me that the two of you haven’t…” Gemma said carefully.
“Gemma, for fuck’s sake, we haven’t even kissed!” Max snapped. Ariel couldn't help but laugh softly at Max's blunt response.
She could see the skepticism on Gemma's face, the disbelief that she still wasn't fully convinced. And she couldn't help but smirk a little.
“Just for the record, we figured things out 3 hours ago,” Max said drily.
Ariel had to suppress a laugh at Max's dry statement.
Three hours.
They had figured things out and confessed their feelings for each other, and here they were, dealing with the media fallout and questions about pregnancies.
She couldn't help but find the whole situation slightly absurd and amusing. It was just a perfect example of how ridiculous the media could be sometimes.
One minute, they were obsessed with every little detail of her relationship with Max, and the next, they were asking if she was pregnant, even though they hadn't even had sex yet.
Ariel felt Max's arm tighten around her a little, and she knew he was probably thinking the same thing.But amidst all the absurdity and the media frenzy, one thing was clear to her.
She and Max had finally taken that crucial step, confessed their feelings to each other.
She felt warm, safe, and loved in his embrace. He was her rock, her pillar of strength.
She didn't care about the media, about their questions or speculations. Not when she had Max by her side.
Ariel leaned into his chest a little more, her body fitting perfectly in his arms. She could feel the warmth of his chest against her side, could hear his steady heartbeat.
Ariel knew they were in for a bumpy ride, especially with the media. They would be all over them, asking questions and speculating about every little detail.
But she didn't care. As long as she had Max, as long as they were together, they could weather any storm.
She felt Max's hand move, gently caressing her shoulder, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. She looked up at him, a small, tender smile playing on her lips.
Despite the chaos and the uncertainty of the situation, she felt a sense of calmness and peace. She knew that no matter what happened next, they would face it together. They were in this together now, no going back.
“...finally,” Gemma breathed.
Ariel chuckled at Gemma's relieved sigh.
"Finally indeed," she echoed in agreement.
She looked up at Max, his arm still wrapped around her. He seemed a little more relaxed too, his body less tense than before.
"Took us long enough, hm?" Max teased with a wry grin.
Ariel couldn't help but roll her eyes playfully at his comment.
"Is it serious?" Gemma asked carefully.
"As serious as can be," Max replied immediately, his tone firm and resolute.
Ariel knew that Max didn't do anything halfway, he was all-in when he committed himself to something. And when he said 'as serious as can be', he meant it wholeheartedly.
And still…she could feel a little shiver run through her at his words.
She knew Max meant every word he was saying. He was all in, and he was serious about them being together.
There was a certain charm in Max's blunt and decisive nature.
He wasn't one to sugarcoat things or beat around the bush.
He meant what he said, and he said what he meant. And when he said that he was serious about them, he meant it.
There was no room for speculation, no room for doubts.
And Ariel loved that about him.
She trusted him blindly.
"We've been dancing around each other for ages, and I'm done wasting any more time," Max stated firmly.
Ariel could hear the determination and certainty in his voice.
He meant it, he was done playing around.
Ariel felt her heart skip a beat at Max's declaration, her stomach fluttering with excitement and anticipation.
It was the last push she needed, the final confirmation that she wasn't the only one feeling this way.
Max was all in, and he was serious about them.
She felt a surge of happiness and relief wash over her, the truth of his words sinking in. They were doing this, they were really doing it.
She leaned into him, her body pressing against his, seeking his warmth and comfort.
Ariel could feel the firmness of his chest against her, his arms strong and protective, holding her close to him.
"I am happy for you both, but this does complicate things," Gemma said carefully. "The fact that he is your boss..."
"She works with me, not for me," Max cut her off.
Ariel suppressed a smile at Max's quick correction.
She felt a warm flutter in her chest as he spoke up to the defense, setting the record straight instantly.
And to be honest, she couldn't help but find it just a little bit hot, how he was so quick to correct Gemma, how he was always so quick to stand up for her.
“You are the ones paying her salary,” Gemma correcte him drily.
"We haven't let our relationship interfere with our professional lives before, we won't start with it now," Max continued. "And yes, I do pay her salary. Which means she works for me and not for Re Bull. So I don't really care what you have to say about this, she doesn't fall under company policy."Ariel felt a surge of pride and affection for Max as he spoke.
His words were firm and determined, leaving no room for arguments.
And hearing him defend her, hearing the certainty in his voice…Ariel looked up at him, admiring the strength and resolve in his eyes.
She knew he would always have her back, always stand up for her.
"We've been able to separate our personal relationship from our work," he continued, his voice steady and unwavering. "We've always been professional and respectful in the workplace, and that's not going to change."
He paused for a moment, his gaze shifting to Ariel, his expression softening ever so slightly.
"We know how to work together effectively, without letting our personal feelings interfere,” he continued, his voice firm yet caring.
“I agree,” Ariel said calmly. “We can manage. We always have.”
“I can already see, it doesn’t matter what I say,” Gemma said with some amusement.”
“No,” Max agreed flatly.
“What else?” Ariel asked with a grimace.
Gemma let out a long sigh, her expression becoming a little more serious. She ran a hand through his hair, clearly contemplating how to phrase the second matter.
"Have you checked social media yet?" she asked with a grimace
Ariel's stomach immediately dropped at the question, a sense of foreboding creeping up inside her.
She had a feeling she knew where this was heading, and she already didn't like it.
"Do I actually want to know what happened?" Max asked drily.
"Well, the press thought that whatever happened between Ariel and your father was much more interesting than actually asking the other drivers about the race...and they mad had a few...thoughts on that?"
Oh god.
"I think you'll want to see this?" Gemma said, as she handed over her tablet.
It was a clip of Pierre Gasly, clearly taking at the after race press interview, with the interviewer posing the question: "Do you happen to know if Max Verstappen is in a romantic relationship with Ariel Cane?" And Pierre actually answered, "Not as far as I know...but if they do become a couple in the next few weeks, I would win the bet, so if they could get on that, that would be great!"
"What bet?" Ariel asked weakly as she watched the clip run out.
She could already see where this was going. And she didn’t like it.
Were the other drivers betting on her relationship with Max?
"Who exactly took part in that bet?" Max asked, his voice fierce.
"...The whole grid?" Gemma answered with a grimace. "Apparently there is a whole betting pool according to Lando Norris?"
Ariel couldn't believe her ears.
The whole grid? Seriously?
She felt a mix of anger and incredulity at the revelation. Everyone, literally everyone on the grid, had been betting on her and Max getting together?
"This is ridiculous," she grumbled, her irritation reaching a boiling point.
The media and now the other drivers, all speculating about her and Max like they had nothing better to do.
She could feel Max's annoyance radiating off of him, and she knew he was just as fed up with this nonsense as she was.
"I can't believe they're all betting on our personal lives," she continued, her frustration growing with each word.
She could understand that the media loved to pry and speculate, but for the other drivers to also partake in this absurd gossipmongering... it was simply infuriating.
"Have they got nothing better to do than speculate about what's going on between us?" Max growled.
"And to think that even the other drivers are placing bets on us," Ariel said, her tone filled with disbelief.
It was one thing if the media was gossiping, but for the drivers to be involved in this ridiculous betting pool... it just seemed so juvenile.
"I mean, what is this, high school?" Max huffed, his irritation evident in his voice.
He was clearly as fed up with this whole situation as she was.
She couldn't believe that the other drivers had nothing better to do than bet on her and Max's relationship status.
"Also Lando Norris is apparently worried that he won't get Christmas Cookies from you this year?" Gemma continued with a grimace.
Ariel almost burst out laughing at the news about Lando Norris.
Was he seriously concerned about not getting her Christmas cookies?
"Lando is worried about the cookies?" she repeated, a mixture of amusement and disbelief in her voice.
She couldn't help but find it a bit ridiculous that the most pressing issue on Lando's mind was whether he'd be receiving her Christmas cookies or not.
"Seriously, that's what he's concerned about?" Max chimed in, his tone filled with a mix of irritation and amusement.
He seemed just as flabbergasted as she was that Lando was more worried about the cookies than anything else.
"I mean, I'm flattered that he enjoys my cookies so much," Ariel said, trying to keep a straight face.
She was finding this whole situation more and more absurd by the minute. It was like they were in some kind of soap opera or something.
"But the fact that he's more concerned about missing out on a batch of my cookies than anything else is just... I don't even know what to say," she continued, shaking her head in disbelief.
It was ridiculous, but also kind of endearing in a way. She couldn't help but find Lando's preoccupation with her cookies just a bit adorable.
"I swear, the drivers these days have their priorities all mixed up," Max chimed in, a hint of mock irritation in his voice.
He was trying his best to maintain a stern expression, but Ariel could tell he was secretly amused by Lando's obsession with her cookies.
"One minute, they're focused on the race, and the next, they're worried about the possibility of missing out on some homemade treats and having betting pools about my private life," Max continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Gemma let out a sigh, rubbing her hands together nervously.
It seemed like there was still more.
Ariel could feel her irritation rising once again as she prepared herself for more ridiculous gossip and speculation.
"Anything else?" Max asked clippedly.
"Charles Leclerc may have said that it was obvious that the two of you were in love?" Gemma offered.
Ariel nearly choked on her own spit.
She glanced at Max, seeing how his jaw was clenched tightly, his irritation evident.
Ariel couldn't help but roll her eyes.
Seriously? Charles Leclerc was now an expert on her and Max's relationship?
"Max. Charles and I are going to have an inchident the next time we meet," she said, as she closed her eyes.
Max chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We need him in one piece for the next race, you know," Max said, a hint of humor in his voice. “So go easy on him please.”
"Anything else?" Ariel asked nearly begging. Please let that be all?
"I think that's it," Gemma said quickly, as she gathered herthings to leave.
Ariel let out a sigh of relief, glad that the barrage of ridiculous gossip seemed to be over.
She sank back into the sofa and against Max, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and irritation.
Ariel was so tired of the media and the drivers prying into her personal relationship with Max.
"You know what, I'll deal with them tomorrow," she said with a sigh.
Max gave her a hum of understanding, his expression sympathetic.
"And Lando is not getting any christmas cookies any time soon," she muttered, making Max laugh.
"We both know that you don't hold a grudge that long," he teased her.
Ariel shot Max a mock glare, but she couldn't help but smile at his comment.
He knew her too well.
"Shut up," she muttered, shoving him playfully with her shoulder.
She tried to maintain a stern expression, but she couldn't help but feel a hint of amusement in spite of herself.
She looked at Max, giving him a weary smile.
"I swear, it's like the whole world has nothing better to do than gossip about us," Ariel muttered, her frustration still evident in her voice.
She shook her head, still finding it hard to believe that the other drivers had been betting on their relationship status.
Max chuckled darkly, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Well, they're all bored and have nothing better to focus on," he said dryly.
"I swear, the next time I see Lando, I'm gonna smack him upside the head," Ariel grumbled.
She was still irritated at Lando's statement about missing out on her Christmas cookies.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Max said softly. “You are threatening violence, so you need sleep.”
He was probably right about that.
She was tired, both mentally and physically, and she knew that a good night's sleep would do her some good.
Ariel got up from her chair, stretching her arms slightly.
"Yeah," she agreed, her voice soft. "Bed sounds good right now.Will you…keep me company?” She asked him, biting her lip.
She wasn’t sure why this was making her nervous…
Maybe because they had never actually share a bed before… but Max smiled at her, his eyes softening at her request.
"Of course I will," he replied softly. His voice was warm and reassuring, filled with unspoken affection.”You still owe me cuddles after all,“ he teased her and she snorted.
Ariel did snap a picture of the saltines and ginger ale on the bedside table as she connected the phone to her charger. While she didn’t theoretically fall under the purview of Gemma, she still send off a quick text about the instagram post she wrote, not wanting to stub any toes. Ariel was not going to let that ridiculous pregnancy speculation go on any longer.
She also texted Emma, not wanting her sister to be worried.
And then she slid under the high thread count sheets and glomped onto Max.
Max just laughed softly as he felt her snuggle up against him, her body molding perfectly against his.
He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, and she relished in the feeling of her head resting against his chest.
He nuzzled his face against her hair, taking a deep breath, inhaling her scent.
Ariel still couldn’t quite believe this. Not really. It felt utterly and completely…magical.
But here she was, curled up with Max in his bed, one hand of his gently tracing her spine and him pressing kisses to her hair.
“Did you…did you mean what you said?” Ariel asked him hesitantly.
“What?” Max wondered.
“That I am the woman you…you love,” she answered weakly. Did he mean that or had it just been the heat of the moment or… Max stopped his caresses for a moment, sensing the uncertainty in her voice.
He pulled back slightly, looking down at her, his eyes meeting hers.
His expression was gentle, filled with warmth and sincerity.
“Of course I meant it, Schatje” he said quietly, his voice soft and reassuring.
He reached one hand up, gently stroking her cheek.
“You’re the woman I love, Ariel,” he repeated firmly, as if trying to hammer the point home.She couldn’t believe it. It was jsut…
It was everything she had ever wanted right there for her taking.
“Good,” she whispered. “Because we really took long enough and I love you too.”Max's expression softened as he heard her words, a slow smile spreading across his face.
He couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him as she confirmed her feelings for him.
He pulled her closer, holding her tightly against him.
"We really did take long enough, didn't we?" he murmured, his voice filled with amused affection.
He ran his fingers gently through her hair, his touch gentle and tender.“Only five years,” she joked.
Max chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
"Right," he said with a grin. "Only five short years."
He pretended to sound annoyed, but the amused sparkle in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.
He pulled her even closer, their bodies now pressed fully against each other.
"We really are idiots, aren't we?" he teased, his lips grazing her forehead.She hummed her agreement, tipping up her face.
“Don’t make me ask,” she requested softly.Max chuckled softly, sensing her unspoken plea.
He knew exactly what she wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige.
He cupped her chin gently, tilting her face up towards his.
"You don't have to ask," he murmured, his voice low and husky.
Without further ado, he lowered his head and captured her lips in a soft, tender kiss.
Ariel melted into the kiss, her body molding against Max's.
#max verstappen fanfiction#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#max verstappen fluff#mv1 fanfiction#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fake instagram#f1 smau#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen x reader#mv1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#mv1 fic#max verstappen x you#f1 grid x reader#f1 grid fanfiction
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so scarlet it was, maroon | chapter two
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✧₊⁺ pairing — satoru gojou x journalist!reader
✧₊⁺ chapter summary — satoru comes home to his angry wife and he said some questionable stuff the night before. satoru meets suguru at a bar in shinjuku and they discuss what they should do with their nosy little journalist and they manage to come up with a plan on how they should deal with her, and it doesn't include the most moral of ways.
✧₊⁺ word count — 4.6k
✧₊⁺ warnings — nsfw (minors dni), alcohol use, drug mentions, manipulation, mentions of sex (not with reader)
✧₊⁺ notes — well hello to all my new readers this was very unexpected for me. i started this blog with max 4 readers interacting with my work (i love you btw) and now i have 1k interactions on my ssiwm masterlist which is crazy and anxiety inducing (i’m a wuss if you couldn’t tell). but thank you to my cursed seas babies who voted for the f1 gojo series and i thank them because they brought me here and i wouldn’t have kept writing without them and thank you for the lovely comments on the first chapter also short chapter because life longer chapter soon i promise :)
♪ on the floor — jennifer lopez ft. pitbull
series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist
previous chap. tokyo, japan | next chap. (coming coon)
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The world around Satoru was hazy when he opened his eyes, barely able to make out the details of the ceiling above him. His head throbbed and pulsed in time with his heartbeat. He let out a groan before rolling over on the couch in a desperate attempt to block out the morning sunlight.
Where was he? Oh, right. His apartment. The couch. Again.
He remembered stumbling into the house at some obscure hour of the night, unaware of how he swayed as he tried to navigate the hallway of his home. Memories of the previous night came rushing back and all of a sudden, a conversation came to him—a memory of the curious face that sat across from him in the dimly lit bar, asking him questions he would usually brush off with a smirk. What was it he had said about her last night? Something about a cute, nosy journalist being at the bar. He could only hope he didn't say that out loud.
“Oh, look who finally decided to wake up." Hana stood above him, her arms crossed, glaring down at him, “How nice of you to finally come home.”
Gojou grunted, pushing himself up, though he instantly regretted it as a wave of nausea hit him. “Morning to you too,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can you keep it down? It feels like I’ve been hit by a damn truck.”
“Maybe that’s because you came home drunk out of your mind, yet again,” Hana snapped. “And stumbling around the house at two in the morning, shouting nonsense about some ‘nosy journalist’? Really, Satoru?”
He blinked slowly, trying to make sense of her words. Oh right, maybe he had gone on a bit too much about that girl at the bar last night, hadn’t he? What was her name? No, she never gave it to him, had she? Or had he just forgotten?
“I wasn’t shouting. And… she was just doing her job, asking questions. It wasn’t anything"
“Just doing her job? Is that what you call it now? Going to bars and flirting with journalists instead of coming home to your wife?”
He groaned, slumping back against the couch. “Hana, I wasn’t flirting with her,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s just a journalist. You know how it is.”
“Oh, I know how it is. I know exactly how it is. You spend every other night at some bar, ‘meeting’ people, and coming home like this.” She gestured at him, sprawled out on the couch, his shirt rumpled and hair a mess, the smell of last night’s whiskey still clinging to him. “And I’m supposed to just sit here and take it? Pretend this is normal?”
“Can we not do this right now?” he muttered. “It’s too early for a lecture.”
“A lecture? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you actually enjoy making a mess of everything. And let me guess, you were just at the bar for a ‘break’ from everything, right?”
“Yes, actually,” he shot back, finally sitting up. "I needed a break, Hana. Do you know what it’s like? Everyone expects me to be this… perfect person, and I'm not. And then I come home, and it’s more of the same.”
“So you’re the victim here? I’m sorry, but did I ask for this life of constant rumors and watching my husband stumble in drunk, muttering about some cute journalist?”
Did he really say that last night? He couldn’t remember, but if Hana said so… maybe he did.
“That’s not—Hana, it wasn’t like that. She was just… She’s just doing research on me for some project. You’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“Oh, of course. Just research. Because there’s nothing strange about you going off with some girl who’s practically a stranger and giving her everything she wants to know about your life while leaving me in the dark.”
He looked at her, genuinely surprised by her comment. “Hana,” he started slowly, “I don’t ‘leave you in the dark.’”
“Really? Then tell me, what about all the rumors, Satoru? The ones I have to read about in the papers? The ones I have to brush off every time someone asks if our marriage is ‘really okay.’ Do you have any idea what it’s like having to deal with that?”
Do you think I like having my life dissected by the media, or dealing with every fucking rumor about me? I didn’t ask for this.”
“No,” she shot back, “but you made it worse. Do you ever think about how your actions make me look? Every time you’re out drinking, showing up in those trashy tabloids with someone else, it’s me they look at, like I’m the one who can’t control her husband.”
“So what do you want from me, Hana? An apology? Fine. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I went out. I’m sorry I had a drink. I’m sorry I talked to some journalists. But I can’t pretend to be something I’m not.”
“You can’t pretend? Satoru, you’ve been pretending for years. You’re not fooling anyone but yourself.”
He stared at her, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. “Hana…”
“I can’t keep doing this, Satoru,” she said softly, her voice breaking just a little. “I can’t keep watching you spiral like this, hurting yourself, hurting me. I didn’t marry you so you could destroy yourself.”
Hana let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. “You’re not the only one with limits, Satoru. And I think I’m reaching mine.”
Without another word, Hana turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
“Great job, Satoru,” he muttered to himself, dragging a hand through his hair.
He let his gaze fall around the room, landing on a few framed pictures scattered on the shelves. One photo caught his eye—a photo of his and Hana's engagement party. The two of them had looked so happy, so in love, but that was before he let the fame and pressure eat away at him and his marriage.
“God,” he muttered under his breath. He needed to get out before the walls began to close in on him. The last thing he wanted was to sit around in the empty house alone with his thoughts. Grabbing his jacket from the arm of the couch, he stood up, ignoring the fresh wave of nausea hitting him. With a quick glance down the hallway where Hana had disappeared, he slipped out the front door.
Satoru found Suguru in their usual spot—seated in the corner of a booth in a low-lit bar tucked away in Shinjuku. He was nursing a whiskey and a cigarette between two fingers, rolling the glass, and watching the ice melt. Satoru slid in across from him and ordered himself a whiskey.
“You look like hell,” Suguru said, his mouth twitching into a faint smile as he raised an eyebrow. “Long night?”
Satoru snorted. “You could say that.”
“Ah, the usual, then,” he replied, not even looking up. “Guessing it ended with a headache and Hana kicking you out onto the couch?”
Satoru grimaced, taking the glass of whiskey the server put down in front of him. “Something like that.” He took a long sip, letting the burn trail down his throat. “Or maybe I just wanted a break from the domestic life.”
“Right. Is that why you look like you’ve gone ten rounds with a wall and lost? What happened?”
“Same shit as always,” Satoru muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s pissed I was out last night. Probably more pissed that I came home talking about some journalist.”
“A journalist, huh? She’s probably wondering if she should be jealous.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly help by calling her ‘cute’ and ‘nosy’ in the same sentence. Not my best moment.”
“You’re an idiot, you know that?”
"Tell me something I don't know." Satoru leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "This girl… she's doing this project or something on me and TJR. She was in the press booth at the race yesterday and happened to be at the same bar as me after. Seemed a little too interested in getting into my head."
"Maybe she just wants a good story for her project. Or," He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table, "maybe she's looking for more than that. Journalists are like that, especially extra nosy ones. They'll dig until there's nothing left, then still find a way to bring things up."
"She wouldn't be the first," Satoru scoffed.
“What exactly did she ask you about? Anything too close for comfort?”
Satoru swirled the whiskey in his glass, thinking. "To be honest, Suguru, I can't even remember half of what she said because I was too busy staring at her tits."
"Fucking Christ, Satoru. The hell?"
"What? She's got nice tits," he shrugged. "But in all seriousness, I think she was just asking the basics at first… and I might have opened my mouth a little too much."
"Sounds like she's already done her homework. If she's that determined, she's not going to stop at surface-level questions. Do you think she knows about all of it?"
Satoru knew what he was referring to.
“I don’t know, maybe. But if she is, she’s damn good at hiding it.”
“Then maybe you should start doing the same,” Suguru said quietly. Keep her close. See what she knows.”
“You’re saying I should let her in? What the hell do you think she’s going to do if she gets any closer?”
"You don’t have to let her in. Just make her think you are. Play the game, Satoru. You can be charming when you want to be. Distract her, keep her off your trail. If she’s nosy, then give her a story that’ll satisfy her and keep her from digging deeper. You’ve got the upper hand here; use it.”
Satoru thought over Suguru's suggestion, the gears in his mind turning. It wasn’t a terrible idea. It was probably his best option. If he was going to stay ahead, he’d have to play it better than her.
“Alright,” Satoru said, setting his glass down. “I’ll get close. Make her think I’m letting her in, give her just enough to chew on. And if she does know more than she’s letting on, maybe I can find a way to turn it against her.”
“Now you’re thinking like a true strategist. Just remember, don’t let her get under your skin. Journalist's loyalty is to their story, not to their subject."
Suguru's smirk widened, raising his glass in a mock toast. Satoru clinked his glass against his before downing the rest of the whiskey.
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You had decided to get a closer look at the in's and out's of how Tokyo Jujutsu Racing worked. And for that, you needed to go to TJR's headquarters. You somehow managed to get your professor to get you inside the place, although it wasn't easy and he said your payment was a good project. The place was sleek and modern, with open spaces and luxury design elements. It was a playground for the rich as much as it was a workplace.
Earlier, you had been asking the staff about Gojou Satoru's training and habits, hoping to get some good information from them. They were surprisingly open to answering your questions, and you got some more information for your project, which was overall great.
Your media pass, which had thankfully been upgraded, hung around your neck as you waited for your tour guide to take you around the place. You decided to roam around for a bit while you waited and that led you down a hallway with team posters and trophies lining the walls.
You were so lost in your observations that you didn’t even realize someone had come up behind you. “Enjoying the view?”
Startled, you turned to find none other than Gojou Satoru leaning casually against the wall. He was dressed in his team's uniform, the red and black accentuating his tall figure, with dark shades covering his eyes.
He was probably high.
“Didn’t think of you as the observant type."
You composed yourself before speaking, “I'm a journalist. I like to know what I’m getting myself into.”
“And you think you’ll figure that out by staring at the walls?”
“Could be. I think they tell you a lot.” You shrugged. "Like how serious the team is about their image. Or how much they care about their past wins and not their current ones. That kind of thing."
“Oh? And what do you make of me, then?”
“Still deciding. I'd like to think you're more than a drunken idiot."
"I see you still remember that, unfortunately."
“That’s what a good journalist does. They remember."
He pushed himself off the wall, straightening up to his full height. “Well, since you’re here to observe, why don’t I give you something more to write about?”
Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and motioned for you to follow him. You hurried to keep up, glancing around as he led you through the winding corridors. Eventually, you entered a room with a massive window overlooking the racetrack.
Gojou leaned against the railing, gesturing to the track below. "So, this is where the magic happens. The place where we come to win."
You nodded, taking in the view. “It’s impressive, I’ll give you that. But it takes more than just a fast car to win, doesn’t it?”
"Oh, absolutely. It takes balls of steel, the reflexes of a god, and just the right amount of craziness. All of those, fortunately, I happen to possess.”
“Modesty isn’t your strong suit, is it?”
“Not when you’re the best."
"Right. The best has an attitude I see."
A silence hung in the hair for a few moments as you studied him.
“So, are you planning to spend the rest of your time here psychoanalyzing me?”
“Depends. Are you planning to keep giving me things to analyze?”
“Touche. Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
At that moment, a team member entered the room, interrupting the moment. "Gojou, they’re ready for you on the track."
Stay here,” he said. “You’ll want a good view of this.”
With that, he turned and walked out, leaving you alone in the observation room. You watched as he made his way down to the track, confident as ever with not a care in the world either.
Cocky Bastard.
You stood in the observation deck for a little before you saw Gojou
You stayed in the observation room, your eyes fixed on the scene below. You saw Gojou greet a few team members, exchange words with his pit crew, and slip into the driver’s seat of his car.
Gojou maneuvered effortlessly, weaving through turns and accelerating with insane amounts of speed. You couldn’t deny, he was talented and he had clearly worked his ass off to get here as his talent isn’t something that can be taught.
After about forty-five minutes of observing Gojou racing, he brought the car to a halt and hopped out of the driver's seat. You watched him walk into the garage and disappear out of sight, presumably going to speak to his crew.
You couldn’t deny it—there was something magnetic about him.
Your pen scratched against your notepad as you scribbled down every single detail possible.
“Enjoy the show?” he asked, his tall frame standing in the doorway.
“Eh,” you shrugged.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means it was okay you ass. It gave me something for my project but nothing really noteworthy.”
“You’re lucky you know that? Not many people get to see me in action.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Okay? I’m not like many people if you couldn’t tell.”
“Clearly,” he scoffed.
“Do you know you’ve racked up more racked up more fines and close calls than any other driver in the league this season?”
“Look, sweetheart,” he said, voice low, “everyone out there knows I can handle the shit I do out there. Besides…” He trailed off. “People love a driver who’s a bit dangerous. Keeps things exciting.”
You met his eyes, holding his gaze without blinking. “You think the world loves you, huh? Interesting. Because from what I’ve read, people seem split between calling you a genius and calling you a liability.”
“Hm. Is that so? Do you believe that?” he replied.
“Yes, and you would know that if you let me interview you properly.”
“Okay how about this,” he glances down at his watch. “We can meet up in the parking garage here in about an hour and you can ask me anything you want for thirty minutes.”
Wait What?
“Uh… Okay, I think I can make it,” you mumbled.
“Great! See you in an hour sweets.”
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The roar of an engine echoed through the underground parking lot, the sharp screeching of tires signaling the arrival of the Gojou. You leaned against the concrete pillar, your arms crossed and your foot tapping impatiently. He was late.
You’d waited over an hour, hoping he’d attend the interview he promised you.
When his sleek black Porsche 911 came into view with his window rolled down, you got even more pissed off than you already were
“Glad you could make it,” you called out, voice tinged with sarcasm.
He stretched, not even acknowledging your tone. “What can I say? Traffic was a nightmare.”
“Sure,” you replied dryly, your patience wearing thin. “We were supposed to meet an hour ago. Some of us value punctuality.”
He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing those piercing blue eyes that could disarm almost anyone. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could get another word out, he walked right past you, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Give me a sec,” he waved his hand over his shoulder. “Gotta take care of something.”
“Wait—” you started, but he was already striding off, leaving you standing there, seething.
The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes. Your annoyance morphed into frustration. After waiting a bit longer, you decided enough was enough. If he thought he could blow you off, he was in for a rude awakening.
Determined, you followed the direction he’d gone. The echo of your footsteps bounced off the concrete walls as you weaved through the garage and into the back corridors of the venue.
“Mr. Gojou!” you called out. “This isn’t funny. Where the hell are you?”
You rounded a corner and stopped in your tracks. The faint sound of laughter—his unmistakable laugh—came from behind a partially open supply closet door a few feet ahead. You narrowed your eyes, creeping closer.
At first, you thought maybe he was on the phone. But as you drew nearer, it became painfully clear that this wasn’t a casual conversation.
“Mmm, you’re so bad,” a woman’s voice purred, followed by the unmistakable rustle of fabric.
Your stomach sank. No. He wouldn’t. Not right Now.
Would he?
Against your better judgment, you stepped closer, your movements quieter now. Peeking through the crack in the door, you instantly regretted it.
There he was, pressed against the back wall of the closet, shirt unbuttoned, and his hair disheveled. His hands were tangled in the hair of a woman whose face you couldn’t see, her body pinned against his as they made out with a fervor that bordered on obscene.
Was this seriously how he’d chosen to spend the time he owed you for your interview? The audacity was almost impressive.
You cleared your throat loudly, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the confined space.
The woman gasped, pulling away from him in shock. Gojou, however, turned his head lazily toward you, his expression unreadable. For a split second, there was something in his eyes—a flicker of annoyance, maybe even embarrassment—but it was quickly replaced by his usual, smirk.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite journalist.”
You folded your arms tightly across your chest, glaring at him. “Seriously?”
The woman, clearly flustered, muttered something about leaving and quickly ducked out of the room, her heels clicking against the floor as she disappeared down the hallway.
He sighed, buttoning up his shirt. “What?” he said. “You’ve never seen two consenting adults have a little fun before?”
“Fun?” you snapped. “We had an interview. You made me wait for over an hour before you showed up and then you go and do this?”
He shrugged, unbothered. “You’re the one who followed me. Maybe I would’ve shown up if you’d just stayed put. Plus, I had actually agreed to meet her here before I promised you the interview.”
“You make no fucking sense, do you know that?”
He grinned, running a hand through his hair, which only made it look messier. “I get that a lot.”
“Do you even care how this looks? You’re already under a microscope with all your scandals, and now this?”
“Why do you care so much? You writing a piece on my love life now, too?”
“No, but the media sure as hell is. What does your wife think of this? Of your reputation?”
“Reputation’s overrated,” he said, brushing past you as he headed for the door. “People are gonna think what they want, no matter what I do.”
You turned to watch him leave, your fists clenching at your sides. “Maybe if you gave them less to work with, they’d think better of you,” you called after him.
He paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice low and tired. “This is who I am. Take it or leave it.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the empty hallway, your heart pounding and your mind racing.
The sound of footsteps reverberated through the corridor as you leaned against the cold, concrete wall, still processing what had just happened. You were about to leave and write off this night as yet another chapter in the disaster that was Gojou Satoru.
But then, you heard his footsteps return.
“You still here?” he called out, voice echoing through the silence.
You didn’t move. “Should I be?”
He walked towards you, his gait relaxed, almost predatory. “Depends.” He stopped a few feet away, eyes fixed on yours. “You want a story for your project or what?”
You frowned, arms still crossed. “I’ve already seen more than enough tonight.”
“Come by my garage tomorrow. I’ve got something to show you. Something you can use.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“Fine. Tomorrow. But this better not be another waste of my time.”
“You won’t regret it.”
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The smell of motor oil and metal hung in the air the moment you stepped inside the dimly lit garage. The concrete floor was stained with years of grease with tool scattered across the workbench. The garage was big, to say the least, there were rows of high-performance cars lining the walls, their glossy bodies gleaming under the garage's fluorescent lights. It was a bit of a mess inside the garage, as there were different car parts strewn across the garage.
Gojou stood beside it, sleeves rolled up, grease smudged on his forearms. The sight was so out of place.
“Didn’t think you’d actually show up,” he drawled, tossing a wrench onto a nearby workbench with a clatter.
“Neither did I,” you shot back, arms crossed. “So, what’s the big secret? Planning on showing me how you avoid drug tests?”
“Always so sharp. No, this...” He gestured to the car. “This is one of my hobbies.”
You walked closer, eyeing the vintage vehicle with skepticism. “You? Fixing cars? Sounds like a PR stunt.”
He wiped his hands on a rag, smirking. “You think everything I do is a stunt?”
“You haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise.”
“Careful, sweetheart. I might start thinking you’re obsessed with me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Get over yourself. I’m here for my project, not for you.”
He leaned casually against the car, arms crossed over his chest. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.
“So, what’s the deal with this thing?”
“It was my dad’s. He used to take me to the track in this.”
“And you think this will make a good addition to my project? What, ‘Gojou Satoru: The Man Behind the Wheel’?”
People love a good redemption arc. Makes me more... relatable.”
You snorted. “You? Relatable? That’s a stretch.”
He pushed off the car, stepping closer again, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe you just haven’t gotten to know me well enough.”
“Or maybe I’ve seen enough to know exactly who you are.”
His smile faltered, just for a second. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”
“I think you’re a mess hiding behind a pretty face and a fast car.”
“You might be the first person who’s ever said that to my face.”
“Good. Someone needed to.”
…
“You know, I could help you relax a bit. Take the edge off.”
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Seriously? That’s your move? Pathetic.”
He grinned, unbothered by the insult. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
“Actually, I can. And I will.” You turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“Cold as ever,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I like it.”
“Good for you.” You grabbed your bag, ready to leave. “Thanks for the... insight. I’ll be sure to include ‘Gojou Satoru: Amateur Mechanic’ in my report.”
“You really don’t give a shit, do you?”
You paused at the door, glancing back over your shoulder. “Not about you.”
You barely made it five steps outside the garage before his voice called after you. "Running away already? Thought you were supposed to be fearless."
You stopped, the night air cool against your skin. Turning slowly, you saw him leaning against the garage doorframe.
“I’m not running, Gojou. I’m just done wasting my time.”
"You say that, but here you are. You could've written this off as another scandal of mine or another fall from grace. But you’re still digging. Makes me wonder why."
“Because you’re a story people want. A cautionary tale. People love watching someone like you crash and burn.”
“And here I thought you saw me as more than just some headline.”
“You’re not that special.”
“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”
“What’s your deal, Gojou? Really,” you asked, voice softer now. “Is this all a game to you?”
“Everyone’s playing a game. I just play it better.”
“And what happens when you lose?”
He stepped closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “I don’t lose.”
“Everyone loses eventually. Even you.”
“Well then,” he said. “We will see.”
He turned, walking back toward the garage, hands stuffed in his pockets. “You coming or not?”
You frowned. “What?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve got something else to show you. Unless you’re too scared.”
You hesitated, every instinct telling you to walk away. But damn it, you couldn’t. There was something here, something you needed to understand and against your better judgment, you followed him back inside.
Gojou walked over to the workbench, picking up a small, silver object. He held it out to you.
“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing it warily.
He shrugged. “Figure it out. You’re the journalist.”
“Why are you giving this to me?”
“Maybe I’ll let you know the truth. Or maybe I just like fucking with you.” He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”
Before you could respond, he walked away, disappearing deeper into the garage. You stood there, the key clutched in your hand. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. Gojou Satoru was a puzzle, a mess of contradictions and lies. And you were going to unravel him, piece by piece.
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Do you think if Billy came back to life, Steve and the party would be overprotective of him? Or wary?
The Wheeler kid wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.
Apparently he was being “monitored”, in that fourteen year old way of “I’m going to stare at you until you justify the conclusion I’ve already reached.” Christ he wasn’t drunk enough for this.
If he’d ever be allowed alcohol again from where he was, lying on a hospital bed with complete mobility loss in both legs.
Billy finally decided to look up and there was three of them.
The wheeler kid, staring at his notebook. Harrington’s cousin, the excessively loud one. Lucas, eyeing him with suspicion.
“Just get lost already”
It was all he could force out, wanting to sound threatening but just on the verge of pathetic instead.
They stayed and continued to visit.
It was never the exact same combination and never with Harrington but Billy’s room was constantly full of kids.
Mike seemed to want to use him as a science experiment as did Dustin. They were always ushered quickly out by the nurse who had become accustomed to Billy’s short fuse.
Lucas and Will, Billy wasn’t sure. They could have been sent by fucking Hopper for all Billy knew. He’d never even met the Byers so Will had no need to visit him and the guilt of how he treated Lucas still reared its head regularly, even after apologising. So he really had no reason to be there either.
But they came in with a chessboard one day and asked to play.
So Billy taught two fourteen year olds to play chess while he should have been moving into a college dorm. They were surprisingly good company. Wheeler and Henderson still left something to be desired but they were a fraction more tolerable.
Max showed her face for the first time early in September. There was a dark bruise under her eye that made Billy feel particularly sick. The fucking bastard.
She sat next to his bed and they talked. They talked for hours. Neil was still going to be an issue of course but she was working on it.
It was said with the dark determination of her voice that made Billy pause. Once he got out of that godforsaken hospital, they’d deal with him together. And Neil wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again.
The girl appeared next. The girl Billy remembered but didn’t.
Hoppers daughter. Quiet and very serious for a girl in her early teens. She smiled at Billy and looked so like Max for a second, Billy decided he was going to spend his entire life fighting for her.
Steve didn’t come to see him for months. Almost Christmas really.
A flood of memories came back seeing that face.
Fighting. Apologies. A first date under the stars. A lot of sex. Breaking up.
Being dragged into the cold.
Nothing.
“Sorry”
God the amount of times Billy had wished he could hear that voice again.
“I guess I just couldn’t believe it.”
The old Billy would have shut him out and screamed until his voice left. Drunk the pain away.
But this was the new Billy. The new Billy looked at Steve’s face and saw someone he loved who’d made an honest mistake.
He gestured Steve over and kissed him before he had a chance to make a ridiculous apology.
“You’re fine Harrington. You’re fine.”
#billy hargrove#steve harrington#harringrove#billy and the party#so as your answer- wary but they all come around#cw abuse
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scared of your thoughts on fk - i think they confuse their friends & each other - feels so intricate
You asked about one specific pair, but . . .
You opened a floodgate!
I already wrote that I like fan service; therefore, I like First and Khaotung's special brand of teary-eyed fan service. However, I also wrote that JoongDunk are my GMMTV favorites because Joong is always hyping up his homies, and Dunk stays Pretty Boy Petty.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5b8fc68373efcaddf45f3d241f515458/3d3e538436478f3d-b0/s540x810/75ae08222cb8f27c76079504b6656d7501829768.jpg)
So I'm excited to see all four promote The Heart Killers when the show is ready to be released since I think it'll be a hoot watching First and Khaotung call each other best friends with tears in their eyes while Joong sits next to them commenting on how banging Dunk's body is and Dunk openly agreeing that his body is, in fact, banging. Joong and Dunk are always firing shots at First x Khaotung for no good ass reason, so I'm thrilled they will get to do it to First and Khaotung's faces for an extended period of time.
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Because to me, most fan service is good since it allows people to see people of the same sex casually being affectionate with each other without the belief that it should be shameful or hidden, so give me all the styles of GMMTV fan service! Give me Force x Book's eighty year friendship, Pond x Phuwin's nerdy fashion model energy, Earth x Mix's marriage and divorce era, Tay x New's fist fights over dessert, Off x Gun's evolution of skinship, Jimmy x Sea's intellectual companionship, Gemini x Forth's "fuck it, we ball' attitude, and all the other 31 Flavors of Branded Pairs the BL world has to offer us.
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Because I really do not care what these men do or do not do or if it is real or not. What bothers me is these companies (not just GMMTV) encourage this behavior, then when fans get toxic, the companies leave the actors to deal with the fallout. I also don't like that out actors aren't as well protected and even straight actors and their girlfriends are targeted by fans, which only encourages queer actors to stay closeted while delivering a queer performance and for straight actors to feed into this mind fuckery by being in a pseudo-monogamous relationship with their acting partner which is an extension of our heteronormative societies and their belief that affection can only be reserved for one person.
So my thoughts on First and Khaotung are irrelevant because I'm going to like all these pairs regardless of what they give me. Max and Tul were as open as possible about Max having a girlfriend and Tul being gay, yet that in no way influenced how I enjoyed their fan service. Yin and War have stated several times that what they do is their job, and I'm still clapping every time War chokes Yin. And as much as I truly believe Mos and Bank are married, if they came out today and said they actually hate each other and cannot stand the sight of each other, I'd be proud at their acting skills all these years because I have faked liking my coworkers for a lot less money.
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As a Catholic and a slut, I think there is a great sociological study here about how branded pairs help with queer representation regardless if the people in the pairs are queer or not, yet how the pairs must still fit into a digestible frame of traditional (hetero) relationships with affection only being given to one person forever and ever until death (or their contracts) do them part.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/95f578797c11cbdbe16f84b8809ff16c/3d3e538436478f3d-17/s540x810/59e5ace1ad28ee3a4165161add6966b0758d051e.jpg)
So First and Khaotung aren't the only ones confusing people because this entire setup is confusing. They aren't creating some intricate strategy but these companies are. These actors are just out here telling their homies they look cute and going on (hopefully) company-sponsored trips. And if they like it, I love it.
Because I've been pretending to like Karen from Finance for years when I can't stand that bitch, yet I still have a job that pays my bills, so "get it how you live it."
And make it a little queer along the way.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/49664506e071a83f220fa754afcd70c1/3d3e538436478f3d-19/s540x810/67b6a4198edeee5b31fd429ac3241c45049d2cce.jpg)
#fan service#the question was about khaotung x first#but all roads lead to JoongDunk#and my other faves#because if they are good then I'm Gucci#if they want to kiss a homie or two LET 'EM!
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“My angel baby, I’m here.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: eddie finds out that you self harm.
warnings: reader self harms and is severely depressed, undertones of poor eating habits but very brief, language, lots of tears, blood, angst to the max, mentions of periods.
a/n: this is the longest that i’ve posted yet since getting back into writing and i’m super happy with how it turned out! it is a sensitive topic so it won’t be for everyone. this is dedicated to all the ones who can relate to this fic. i hope you all have an eddie in times when it gets too much. please let me know what you think. it means the world and more than you can imagine.
You knew that what you did was not healthy. You knew it was sick and messed up. You knew that if anyone found out, they’d think that you were insane. The scars you gave yourself had no real reason to be there. You blamed yourself for that. You didn’t know how to deal with your issues any other way. The moment you were alone you’d drift off to the bathroom, turn the shower on and begin your twisted ritual of self abrasions.
Life for you was difficult, but still, marking your self up was no excuse. You had tried to quiet, of course. Many times you had, but it was a habit you could not break. You were too used to doing it. It was an everyday thing. It was like breathing. You breath to live. You can’t not just breath. So for you, cutting yourself was like breathing. You didn’t think you could stop. It helped you deal with your pain.
If you’d have known what the evening was going to hold for you, you would have slit your throat the moment you woke up.
Darkness clouded your mind. Sitting in class, the fog you knew well was storming your brain cells, making everything else fuzzy and hard to understand. Everyone looked blurry, their faces funny and distorted. They sounded odd. Your heart ached and sunk into the pit of your stomach like it always did. You had no way of explaining what this feeling was and what it meant, but you didn’t like it at all. Once it got you, it had you.
You didn’t try to share any of this with Eddie. You didn’t want him to know how much you struggled. Scaring him away was your worst fear. It was why you never let him see the tops of your thighs. Sex was always under the covers. Lights off. Eddie didn’t complain of course. To him, sex was sex.
And god, did you love him. You loved him with your whole heart and soul. You’d be devastated if he knew your secret. It felt awful to bare, this huge burden you carried on your shoulders. You wondered if any of your other classmates shared it too. There was a darkness in your heart that was eating you alive.
“Babe,” A warm, thick hand grabbed your shoulder, pulling you from sinking to the bottom of the pool you were drowning in.
“Huh?” You said a little louder than you’d realized, blinking rapidly as your vision spun around the room. “What?”
You turned around in your seat to find Eddie’s doe eyes narrowed. “You good?” He whispered, leaning closer. “You’ve been staring at the floor for fifteen minutes.” Your class wasn’t even doing anything important. You had a sub, so everyone was doing their own studying or reading. Eddie had been talking to you until you drifted off.
“Oh, yeah.” You nodded with a swallow, grabbing his hand that still laid on your shoulder. “Sorry, Ed.”
“Just checking on my girl.” He gave you a wink that made you blush. “You coming over tonight?”
“Yeah.” You whispered with a fake smile, exhaustion taking over. He could see the way your lips had faltered. You turned back around and laid your head on your desk, arms being your pillow.
Eddie stared at you.
He might not have been the brightest bulb in the shed, but he knew you weren’t the happiest girl in the world. He knew you were sad and weren’t telling him about it. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to pressure you into it, but still, he was worried about you. He wished for one night that they both could talk about you instead of his problems for a change.
Maybe tonight could be the night.
•
You must’ve gotten your period, he figured. Here it was four o’clock in the morning, and for some reason he couldn’t sleep. He had gotten up to get a glass of water but stopped when he’d seen blood seeping through the tops of your sweatpants, the blankets kicked down below your feet.
“Babe,” He said groggily, giving your shoulder a light shake. “Y/n, wake up.”
You hummed back asleep.
“Y/n, I think you got your period,” He rubbed his eyes, leaning over you to switch on the light. “You’re bleeding.”
That woke you up. “Huh?” Your eyes went wide and you sat up. “Oh,” You gasped upon seeing the red leaks of blood seeping from your sweatpants. An inhumane shock of terror left your throat and you leapt from the bed to disappear into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
Eddie, thinking it was your period, thought it was a little funny, even if he was exhausted. He got up and followed you to the door. “Baby, hey, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll get some new sheets from the closet, alright? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
You didn’t respond. He waited for a moment to see if you would. He even knocked a few times before giving up and switching out the sheets on the bed. In fact, he did a lot before you actually came out. He changed the bed entirely, knocking again until you muttered a shaky response that you’d be out soon. He bit his thumb nail and paced for another five minutes before he went out for a smoke. He remained seated on the bed when you finally came out.
When he saw you, he knew something was deeply wrong. Your face was white and you were visibly shaken. Your face was stained with dried tears, your eyes bloodshot. Your heart felt like it was broken. This was too close. Nobody had ever gotten this close of finding out. The idea of him knowing made you feel sick. It was your burden and yours alone. It was yours. As sick as it was, it was who you were. Who were you if you didn’t do this? You were so used to it. It was routine for you. Half of the time you did it just to….well, just to do it, to feel something. You were addicted.
“Y/n,” Eddie glanced you over. “what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He stepped toward you, grabbing your elbows lightly. “Hey,”
You sniffled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go to bed.” You dismissed, now wearing a pair of dark leggings.
“Wait— babe, you’re crying,” He followed you to the bed, watching as you fixed the blanket over yourself. “Are you sick?”
“No, Eddie, I’m fine.” You adjusted your pillow, your body shutting down into survival mode. You needed the situation to be dismissed, shut down. “I’m sorry about the blood, was just my period.”
He sat down on the bed by your thighs. “Don’t be sorry bout’ that, honey. Just want to make sure you’re alright. You need anything? You want some water or something?”
“Eddie, I’m okay.” You stressed, laying down and turning your back to him. “Just forget about it, please.” Your voice broke.
He absolutely did not want to forget about it, not with the way you were trying not to cry. He sat there in the same spot for almost three minutes, eyes glued to your cheek. “Y/n,” He said again. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
You groaned into the pillow. “Damnit, Eddie, lay down!”
“See, I know you,” He shook his head. “You would never be this bothered over your period. Hell, last month you chased me around with your tampon!” He said bewildered, chuckling slightly. “Something else is wrong and you’re not telling me, and when something makes my girl cry, I want to know what it is, so tell me what’s got you so worked up, huh?”
You let out a sob and curled into yourself. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. God, you were so stupid. You shouldn’t have cut so deep.
“Baby,” Eddie frowned, leaning down to lay his torso on you, his chin laying on your shoulder so he could look at you. “Did I hurt your feelings today? Did I say something?”
“No.” You cried into your pillow. “No, Eddie, it’s not you. I promise, it isn’t you.”
He thought maybe he should just drop it, let you go to sleep and maybe it would be okay in the morning, but you were still crying, little puffs and pouts here and there. He couldn’t just dismiss that.
“It’s me.” You found yourself saying, out of the blue.
“What?” He missed what you had said. “I can’t hear you, honey.” He strained his ears to hear you.
“It’s fucking me!” You sobbed into your pillow, chest heaving with a heavy breath that made him jolt. “I’m the fucking problem!”
He had no idea why you were so upset. He didn’t know what to do. He gulped harshly. “Y/n,” He cooed, shushing you gently. He scooted closer, holding you tighter to place a kiss on your temple. “I’m here, baby. Shh, shh, I’m here.”
You let go, sobbing in his arms and into your wet pillow, you broke down in sobs. Most of it was just because you were purely exhausted and you were emotionally drained, depressed. This week you were in a deeper funk than what you’ve normally been in. You hadn’t been eating properly to start. Your showers consisted of laying on the floor and imaging yourself drowning. The idea of Eddie knowing your secret made you want to die, yet you spoke anyway.
“I’m so sad.” You whimpered while Eddie rocked you in his arms, his hands stroking your hair.
He’d thought maybe you’d fallen asleep. You’d been quiet for several minutes. “Why, baby?” He kissed your shoulder.
“I don’t know,” You thought, a crinkle in your nose as you tried to reason why you felt the way you did. “Something is wrong with me, Eddie.”
You were starting to scare him. He’d never heard you talk like this before. He swallowed hard, batting his eyes across the room like his answers were a poster on the wall. “Y/n, if you tell me maybe I can help you.”
God, was help possible? Could you stop? Did you even want to? Who were you if you didn’t have that one constant in your life?
The idea brought on a wave of fresh tears, your lips turning down in a blubbering frown. “You’ll think I’m disgusting.” Your back shook against his broad, bare chest. “You won’t— you won’t ever look at me the same. You’ll think…fuck, you’ll think I’m disgusting.” You sobbed broken-hearted.
Eddie started at your face, features masked in concern. He didn’t know what to do to make you feel better, and his mind was flashing the worst things that could’ve made you so upset, his imagination getting the best of him.
“Sweetheart, I promise whatever you think I’m going to say or do isn’t true.” He leaned over to wipe a tear. “I’m going to love you no matter what you say. That’s how this works, remember? Please, baby, tell me. You’re worrying me.”
Guilt made your heart pound. You let out a long mewl, curling up like a cat so you could cry. Eddie still didn’t let you go. This was your nightmare, yet you, yourself, were making it come true.
“I didn’t get my period.” You said with wet lashes.
“What do you mean?” He narrowed his eyes down at you.
You let out a sob, holding a hand to your stomach. “I mean, I- fuck, I didn’t get my..my- period!” You hyperventilated through your breath.
“Shh, calm down, sweetheart, you don’t have to rush,” He soothed you, rubbing your arms. “Come on, sit up with me.” He gently lifted you by the torso, your hair cascading down your back. You looked like a scared little girl. Your eyes were wet and your face was soaked like you’d been laying in the rain. Eddie sighed, his mouth in a frown as he tried to help you.
“Breath, honey,” He fixed your hair, smoothing it down in rough places.
“I’m so sorry.” You whimpered, grabbing his hands tightly, squeezing them.
“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for, angel. Just want you to tell me what’s got you so upset. What is it that you want to tell me?” He knew whatever it was, you wanted to tell him. And deep down, you did. Maybe that was why you couldn’t shut the hell up.
“I’m so scared.” You shuttered a breath. “I’m so scared that you’ll…what you’ll think of me.”
His heart was beating loud in his chest. “You said that you didn’t get your period,” He tried to question you gently. “What does that mean?”
Did you really want to do this? Did you want to just let it all go within a blink of an eye? Truthfully, yeah. Yeah, you did. You couldn’t do it anymore. At least not alone.
You sat up slightly, fingertips grabbing the waistband of your sweats as you tugged them down to your knees. You didn’t look at him as you sank back down to sit on your ankles.
“I cut too deep.” You wept, staring down at your thighs. It was your canvas, your target area. They were scared on every inch. Some white and faded with age, some angry and red.
When Eddie saw them, it connected all dots instantly. His eyes widened in horror at your legs. They looked absolutely terrifying. He couldn’t help let out a gasp. “Oh, god, y/n,”
His large palms ghosted over them, and he leaned down so he could examine them closer. “Jesus,” His own eyes blurred with tears, his bottom lip quivering with emotion.
“I know,” You shook your head shamefully. “I know, Eddie, but I can’t help it.” You lifted your head up as you shuttered out a tearful breath. “I can’t stop no matter how hard I try. It’s the only thing that helps me.”
“God, y/n,” He traced your scars with his fingertips, jaw fallen slack in shock.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You bawled. “I’m so…I don’t know, I’m just- just- so miserable and it’s the only thing that seems to help. I’m just so used to doing it and I don’t think I can stop!” You blubbered, snot dripping onto your cupid’s bow and dipping into your lip.
Eddie’s head snapped up. “Oh, baby, come here.” He grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. You crawled to him immediately. He cradled your back as you threw your legs around his waist, your chests flush together in a bear hug. You sobbed into his shoulder, his kisses peppering your neck. “I’m here, I’m here.” He repeated.
“My angel baby, I’m here.”
Your body wracked with moans and groans of heartbreak, but you couldn’t deny the amount of relief that left your soul. It finally wasn’t alone on your shoulders. “God, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t.” Eddie hushed you. “You have nothing, nothing at all to be sorry about. I should be apologizing. I should have realized. I had no idea you were unhappy.”
“I’m so fucked up,” Your voice muffled against his skin. “I don’t even know why I’m sad I just- I just am! It doesn’t make any sense!”
“Stop saying that.” He held the back of your head with his palm. “How you feel is perfectly understandable. I’m glad you told me. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Baby, I’m so sorry you’ve been going through this alone, but I’m right here now, okay? I’m gonna help you through this. I’m gonna help you rise above this because you’re so strong and you don’t even realize it. But you’re my girl and I know.” He rocked you in his arms, cradled you like a baby as you cried. “I know, baby, I’m here, I’ve got you honey.”
“Please, help me.” You fisted his curls, your chest hollow, yet heavy with emotion. “I need help.”
He nodded, whispering soothing words of encouragement as he fought off a wave of tears. “You can get past this. I did.”
You pulled away, your face an absolute mess. Red, snotty and tearful. Your lips pulled down in the deepest of frowns. “Oh, Eddie,”
He turned his elbow in a 90 degree angle, and angle you’ve never exactly examined, and cried when you saw the faded white scars. You went right back to his chest, holding him like a teddy bear. “Oh, Eddie, I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”
He held you close and kissed your shoulder, allowing one singular tear to spill that you didn’t have to see. He stopped when he met you. You were his saving grace. He’d be sure and do the same for you. His angel baby.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#stranger things#stranger things season four#joseph quinn#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson headcanons
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side switcher
max verstappen
cw: smut/pwp, wolff!reader, driver!max, unprotected sex, rough sex, degrading language, unprotected sex and its consequences, hot stuff (!!!), missionary sex
bunny says: thanks for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! feel free to suggest your own ideas for future fics!!
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you sighed as you walked down the busy monza street the night after the grand prix. you had to calm yourself down, this was just a meeting.
"bärchen." your father had said, his hands on your shoulders, "you talk to verstappen to consider the offer from mercedes. i think he needs to talk to someone who is... closer in age. not some old man like me." he laughed. his voice was tinged with a softness that was only reserved for his daughter.
you looked at him, "i don't know how to negotiate the way you can."
"that is fine, bärchen. we need an unconventional approach to get verstappen to consider. he is too tied up with red bull, a younger face might be just what we need."
you father wasn't pimping you out. god no, he didn't want you to have sex with max verstappen. the idea of a driver like max with a toto's daughter made the head principal sick.
you stood outside the restaurant and adjusted your blouse before you stepped inside. the place was lavish, high ceilings and low lighting. the food smelt delicious even from a distance. it was the kind of place to make a deal like the one your father was attempting to secure.
he was impressed with max verstappen and you were going to help him make sure that max considered his options. the driver was seated near the back and you gave him a little wave.
"ms. wolff." you said as you reached over across the table to shake max's hand, "i'm toto wolff's daughter, he arranged for us to have a little... talk."
"i didn't know that toto was sending his daughter now. i thought he had a team for that kind of stuff."
you smiled, "well, this is just an informal meeting. the real guns will come out when you agree to talk to my father." you sat down across from him.
you tried not being starstruck, you knew that you had to do this for your father. but you couldn't help but feel a little flushed under max's gaze.
"what would mercedes be willing to give me that red bull won't?" max asked as he looked at you, "must be a pretty hefty deal."
you had the wine menu in your hand, "well. more money." you chuckled, "the numbers won't be finalized until your team meets their team. but i think you could do a lot better there. aren't you tired of being under horner's thumb?"
max raised his eyebrows, "what is be the difference between horner and wolff?"
"my father will make sure that you... shine on the track."
max pushed further, "right, right. i've been winning with red bull, why would i change now?"
you replied, "have you? you're slipping between their fingers. you potential is wasted with them. with mercedes you could have it all."
max smirked, "does the head principal's daughter come with the deal too? or does toto keep you under lock and key and out of the paddock?"
"who i am with is not my father's concern." you were trying to deflect, this was about the deal not you basically being used as a tool to entice the driver.
max chuckled, "i'm sure. if you showed up to the paddock with a mclaren boy or worse a red bull one, i'm sure he'd be quite happy."
not if it was you, you thought.
the dinner was alright, the entire time you felt like you were playing a mental chess that you were unable to really enjoy the meal. whatever pieces max put down as he ate and drank wine, you had a comeback.
it wasn't until the check came and he snatched it out of your hands before you could read the full price.
"my treat." he said, "it's impolite for a man to make the woman pay. even if she's trying to manipulate him."
"i'm not trying to manipulate you, i'm showing you options."
he laughed, "right, right. your foot rubbing against my leg and the cute little faces you keep making are only for buisness purposes."
you looked away, not denying him. he found it endearing. he'd give toto wolff credit, using his daughter to seduce him into signing a contract was a bold move. but max was less interested in a mercedes ride, but rather how did the head prinicpal's daughter ride herself.
"do you want to go back to my hotel?" he asked boldly after he paid the hefty bill, "iron out more of the details without so many people possibly hearing us." you weren't going to be doing much talking when you got back to his hotel room.
you smiled and reached across the table for him, you ran a manicured nail down his wrist, "i was just thinking the same thing."
the hotel room was nice, but not as nice as max's hands on you as he unbuttoned your blouse, his lips on your neck. it felt hot being in the room with him.
you got the belt off his pants and pressed yourself further up against him as you stuck your hand down his pants. his lips found yours and you whined into the kiss.
clothes were not an option for the evening, max wanted to see it all. what toto wolff had been hiding this whole time, his precious daughter about to be fucked by a driver for red bull. that would make quite the story.
max undressed you and you in turn undressed him. you got on the large bed and had him pushing you down fully onto it and climbing on top of you. you moaned into the next kiss as you felt max's heavy erection rub against you.
"intimidated?" he asked.
"of you? no." you replied.
he chuckled and got back on his heels between your legs. he grabbed you by the hips quickly and got your bottom half closer to him. his cock threatening to sink into your sweet pussy.
you held onto the bed as he slipped his cock into you. then wrapped your arms around him afterwards when he leaned in for a searing kiss. you wrapped your legs around him and he started to thrust into you. you gasped, "holy shit." close to his ear.
he looked at you once more, those blue eyes clouded with lust as he pulled you in for a hot kiss and moved against you. the heat in the room thickened as the two of you rutted against one another on the bed.
the kisses were sloppy, the sound of fucking was woven in with the sounds of your heavy breathing. max's thrusts took the wind out of you as you held onto him. it felt painfully intimate for a one night stand.
but in the back of your mind, you knew you'd be tumbling in the sheets with max verstappen more than once. his lips trailed down your neck as he held you by the shoulders for leverage, moving you up and down his cock with each heavy thrust.
"you look good." he said.
you chuckled, "you're not too bad yourself. usually drivers i bed are bad at sex."
he smirked, "i guess you do have the full paddock at your disposal." he didn't know if you were saying it to strike jealousy in him. he added, "but i have a feeling that they'll be less than when i'm done with you."
you looked him in the eyes, as you met his pace with the roll of your hips, "don't get a big head there, verstappen. if you do your helmet won't fit anymore."
he pulled you into another hot kiss and continued to move against you. you could feel your heartbeat in your chest as he pushed up against you.
"i bet your father would have a fit if he saw you like this. under me, like a good girl." he remarked when he broke the kiss, "he expected for you to get me drunk and sign some papers. not end up in bed with me, with my cock deep inside of you."
you tangled your fingers in his short hair and lined your mouth up with his. you said to him, "can you shut up about my father?"
"why?" he asked, "want a daddy then."
"calm the ego, verstappen."
he leaned in a little closer, his thrusts were getting sloppier, "can't, not when i'm balls deep in you, wolff." then pressed his lips against yours. he felt a shudder through his body as he felt you tighten around him.
in the kiss you clung onto him and moaned as you came. your thighs tightened around his waist as you felt the rush of euphoria through your body. when you started to come down, you maintained the kiss and kept your grip on him.
when max broke the kiss, you could see the sexual haze in his eyes as he gave you a few more hard thrusts before he shoved every last centimeter inside of you and finished.
it wouldn't dawn on you till the next morning that neither of you used protection.
"good girl." he said between pants.
you looked at him, arm still around his shoulders and your other hand in his hair, "not too bad yourself, max."
he pulled out and kissed you once more. his soaked, softening cock was pressed against your slit. he pulled away from the kiss and held your face for a moment, "will your father be worried if you're back late?"
you looked at him dead in the eyes and said, "i honestly don't care about him right now. i have my eye on the prize and that's to cum again. i need you, max."
"that kind of attitude might make me come to mercedes." he chuckled before he kissed you once more.
-
toto wolff was the type of man to get what he wanted. he was good that way, he knew exactly how to move the pieces. but sometimes the pieces surprised him.
like how his only daughter ended up in bed with max verstappen. and while you claimed that it was a one time thing for the benefit of mercedes! the timelines didn't add up when you told your father over dinner close to four months after that you were four weeks pregnant.
and the father was the current champion.
toto may have spat out his wine during dinner at the news. but little did he know that verstappen was a lot more willing to join mercedes if it meant being closer to his new woman. the head principal of the mercedes team believed that his future grandson would look a lot nicer in a black, silver and white onesie rather than the garish colours of red bull.
maybe the conditions that led to champion signing to a new team were unconventional and most likely to never be repeated. but as he watched you meet max at the paddock and grin as you pressed your forehead against his helmet, toto couldn't be too angry. business is messy and sacrifices had to be made. for toto that meant accepting max as a future son-in-law.
he did however believe he was far too young to be a grandfather. <3
#bunny writes#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#max smut#max verstappen#formula one fanfiction#formula 1#formula one#formula one x reader#formula one smut#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#f1 smut#f1 fanfic#f1 rpf#f1 fic#mv33 fic#mv1 x reader#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv1#mv1 smut#mv33 smut
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Synesthesia
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader
Summary: "A condition in which stimulation of one sense generates a simultaneous sensation in another". Or aka the fic where Gojo Satoru fucks you inside his domain expansion.
Trigger Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!, SMUT, tiny squint of dubcon (reader goes mind blank inside the domain), creampie, multiple powerful orgasms, reader gender isn't mentioned
Author's Notes: probably the hardest smut i have ever written. idk how many times this has been done in the fandom (im sure tons) and one time i read this INSANELY good fic abt it and have never found it again. anyway, enjoy! credit on the images from this post right here.
other gojo fics
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An average person will feel many sensations in this world, either physically and/or spiritually (if you believe in that type of stuff). Before meeting Gojo Satoru, your emotions were still there to remind you, hey, you are human: come and feel us; you can't stop us.
Everything changed after you met Satoru.
Gojo Satoru wasn't normal. Even in your first meeting, even without being a cursed user, you could tell something was off about him in the best way possible. The white hair, the ethereal blue eyes behind the sunglasses, or the fact that he consumed sweets as someone should be consuming water. Even your concerns about diabetes didn't feel necessary with this man.
And then you started dating him. Yes, you, the average human being of this world, the single person in the million of eight billion or more. And he chose you, fell for you, for some crazy idea in his head. You became his new drug in the best way possible. Gojo Satoru could never have had enough of you.
The kisses were intoxicating, and his neediness was that of someone who could not hear the word "no." Satoru would pout like a child, his head down enough that you could see his eyes shining through his sunglasses. And you would say "yes" as if only that vision persuaded you (it was your heart speaking).
Now, fucking Gojo Satoru, that was on a whole new level. At this point, you knew of the curses, the Jujutsu world, and the fact that somehow you are dating the strongest of that universe (?!). Fucking Gojo Satoru was not like fucking your other lovers. Satoru was entirely in during sex. As in head, soul, mind, the total package deal. And it was only fair you gave him the same.
-x-
"What would happen to normal humans inside your domain expansion?"
The question is met with curiosity by Gojo, who is wearing his black bandana today. He ponders for a moment, one finger toward his chin (because you said once he looked cute doing it, and he does it every time now). "They probably wouldn't be able to see it. Just feel it."
"Could it be considered safe?"
"Mhmmm, let me think. For some milliseconds. Why?"
"Nothing."
Oh, but Satoru had already perceived your interest. Your eyes did not meet his, and you tried to look away, embarrassed. His smile grew from his side lips until Satoru questioned, his voice low, " Is there anything I should know of?"
"You promise you won't laugh?"
-x-
That's how you end up on top of him, his dick buried deep inside your body. It is already overwhelming, suffocating almost, the air being pulled from your lungs every time your hips meet his, and you weren't even inside his domain yet. Satoru insisted on starting slowly for your safety: 0.1, 0.2 seconds max, according to his estimation.
"Now?"
"Are you close?" You shake your head impatiently, furrowing your brows. "Didn't think so."
Differing from all the other nights, you sense Satoru's tension. He can't relax, not even without you moaning in his ear. It's not that Satoru believes he will hurt you; Satoru has to consider the slight possibility of what could happen if he lost control for a tiny second and ended up frying your brain on accident.
"'Toru. Focus on me." You demand, squeezing his nipple so he can come back to you.
Satoru reacts: he starts rubbing in between in the middle of your legs, stroking your sex in a way only he knew how to do, after weeks of studying your reactions every time you had sex. In less than two weeks, the prick had learned places you haven't even discovered yet. It had to be six eyes, giving your body away like that. Biting where the neck meets your shoulder together with a particular way of fucking you and hitting on the place that made you see stars could make you cum in minutes. You are thankful he is the strongest because Satoru had ruined you for any other person who existed.
"Focus, honey." His voice is steady, his chest heaving up and down.
If someone asked you how a mere mortal felt bringing God to his knees, you would know exactly how to explain. That's exactly how you felt fucking Satoru. Like now, with his hands on your hips, helping you sink inside further every time, your open palms resting on his chest for support. It feels powerful and mythical; his mouth parted away like that, licking his lips from time to time. Satoru is a proud moaner, loud and about - but for this time, his forehead is furrowed in concentration, and barely any noises are coming from him. If it were any other time, Satoru would have helped you or taken control when it had gotten too much for his small patience to handle, moving his hips until you were a blabbering mess.
But now, he has to be focused on not harming you. The situation is even more thrilling if you think like that. Bring a God to his knees because if you don't, he might kill you with his power.
"Satoru!" You moan, needy. A warning that you are getting close.
His white hands raise, and you watch (as always) fascinated as the bandana comes off, even forgetting about your looming orgasm. Gojo Satoru is the most attractive man you have ever seen in your entire life, and if you believe in reincarnation, about ten more lives. He has a smirk on his lips now, happy with the way he affects you. I mean, how couldn't he?
"Domain expansion, Unlimited Void."
Everything stops. The air stops moving, and time stops. You are paralyzed, your eyes wide, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. Your mind goes blank in the total sense of that word; you can't form a single thought. You forget your name, can't remember your parents' names, or where you were born, what you do.
At the same time, everything is being shown to you; your consciousness is there, floating lost in the sky, but you can't grasp it. The only thing you can feel is your orgasm, but even that feels like it has toned down, a small explosion the size of a jelly bean growing inside your stomach.
The next thing you know, you wake up in Satoru's arms, gasping for air, shaking, with tears coming down your eyes. You can't stop squirming, and you realize it is your orgasm, with so much energy that could light up an entire city, spreading in your veins and going back into your brain at a swift speed, amplifying your senses. Then you find yourself staring at Satoru's blue eyes, and your mind goes blank again, but not like when you were inside the Unlimited Void. No, now you can feel everything: Satoru's love, Satoru's shooting his cum inside of you, Satoru's hand gripping your hips, the scream coming out of your throat!
Satoru is murmuring something, praising you, saying he loves you, but you pass out again, and the entire world goes black. Satoru holds you, feeling your heartbeat, not placing his bandana on his eyes, your body twitching unconsciously.
You return to him after a few minutes - if anyone asked Gojo, precisely two minutes, twenty seconds, two exact milliseconds, almost three.
"'Toru?" Your voice sounds exhausted, grateful, and in disbelief all at the same time.
"I'm here, honey. I'm here. You are okay." He kisses your forehead, holding you tightly in his arms, still buried deep inside you.
Later, when you ask, Satoru will answer that he had felt your orgasm within you. He had never seen you so out of this world, literally dumbfucked. He won't confess he got worried for a second and ended up placing you inside his domain for ONLY one millisecond. You also won't confess yet that you wanted to try again, up to 0.3 seconds (normal humans wouldn't survive), but who cares? You want Satoru to fry your brain. Instead, you will roll your eyes at his answer, slapping his arm playfully, and he won't even turn infinite on because it is you. And who is he to ever deny you? You who finally made his life whole.
You that had a God wrapped around your finger.
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru#gojo satoru fanfic#satoru gojo fanfic#satoru smut
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The Harrington Pattern Part 10
The first of two chapters today. Next week will finish up this story, so yay!!
Steve has a rough day, Jeff comes to the rescue and deserves hazard pay for dealing with the two idiots (Steve and Eddie). And Nancy and Jonathan cameo.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9
TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
****
Steve put on his chain shirt and tunic admiring himself in the mirror. Yesterday it was sort of haphazardly thrown on. Today he took careful consideration to make sure everything was in place.
He grabbed his wallet and keys and then picked up the little dice bag. It just hoped it wouldn’t be too big or two small. He stuck the first two items in his right pocket and the bag in his left.
Now all he had to do is get up the courage to give it to him. He picked up Lucas and Max first.
When Lucas came out the house wearing the pirate outfit which had been his backup, Steve had been surprised. Then Lucas explained that he had wanted to match Max.
While Steve could appreciate the sentiment, Saturday was the biggest day. The one where everyone would see it. So to say he was a bit crestfallen when Lucas came out of his house would have been an understatement. If they had wanted to do that, why not yesterday?
But he bit his tongue and let them do what they wanted.
Lucas and Max wolf whistled when Robin came out all decked out in her beautiful blue dress and matching corset. She was still wearing her pirate boots, but mostly because she didn’t want dirt on the hem of her new dress.
She did a cute little spin and then bowed at their applause.
It was only when they were in the car that Steve realized that now they looked like a couple. And on the day he was supposed to be confessing to Eddie.
He knew Eddie was aware of Robin proclivities toward her own sex and that Robin was only wearing to look pretty at the jousting tournament, but that feeling gnawed in his chest that everyone else would think Robin and he was a couple.
Well not the Party.
And it did it really matter what strangers thought?
More than Steve would ever admit out loud.
****
They arrived to see only Gareth and Brian waiting for them.
“They wanted us to rely their apologies,” Brian said grandly. “But they fucked up the schedules again.”
“What schedules?” Dustin finally snapped. “No one has told us anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.
Gareth tapped the side of his nose. “That’s because it’s a surprise. But let’s just say that the people running the Ren Fair are trying to have two events at the same time and in the same place.”
“That’s lame,” Mike hissed. “I hate stupid adults.”
Gareth wrapped his arm around him. “No truer words have ever been uttered.”
Steve then got to watch as all the kids paired off and the older teens wander off in directions Steve wasn’t interested in going. Even Robin had abandoned him to take Max and El to see the ax throwers.
He didn’t have anything he had wanted to do until just before lunch so he went to Damsel in This Dress. He couldn’t wait to show off his little pouch for her to see if it was something that would sell.
But when he got there, the place was slammed. Steve could even see a large, burly man with a long thick black beard with a single white stripe on the left side of his chin was scampering around trying to take people’s money while Katie answered questions.
Steve took out the pouch he had made for Eddie and then looked up at the tangle of people in front of him. He would have to come back later. But he knew when she would be the least busy, and Steve wanted to go to the joust, too.
He let out a shuddering breath and turned around. He figured he could kill sometime wandering around the marketplace and browse.
He still had some money leftover and it was the last day. Maybe he should buy something for himself. He spent so much time and effort and money on everyone else he had forgotten to get something for himself.
But now, everything had been picked through. He still had his little dagger he thought sadly. Maybe he would come back after the joust when the crowds had thinned a bit.
The last lunch was a horrid affair with everyone fighting over the food, trying to get someone to try the haggis. Finally Steve just picked it up and threw it away.
Five bucks down the drain because these kids were assholes.
He still hadn’t seen Eddie.
Steve let out a pained sigh and went to go grab the pouch to rub it between his fingers for comfort when he realized it was gone.
“Shit!” he swore.
“What is it?” Will asked, the first zero in on Steve’s obvious distress.
“I had a small black pouch I–” he stopped. He didn’t want to tell them he had made it for Eddie. “I bought earlier,” he finished lamely. “And it’s not in my pocket.”
All the kids stood up and started looking around.
“Where did you last have it?” Robin asked, rubbing Steve’s arm soothingly.
“The dresses place,” he muttered. He couldn’t remember the name just then.
“I didn’t see that they were selling that sort of thing there,” Lucas said. “Why did you have it out?”
“I was going to show the owner, Katie,” Steve groused. “She liked my tunic yesterday and wanted me to give her stuff for her to sell for me and I was going to show the pouch to see if that was something she might want from me.”
He picked at the sleeve of his white undershirt. The cuff had the Harrington Pattern and his lip began to wobble at the sight of it. He wanted to take his seam ripper to it and just tear it all it out. He was too stupid to hold onto such a simple thing as pouch, he didn’t deserve to sell his pieces.
“We don’t have time to go look for it now,” Max said gently. “We’ll all head over there after the joust.”
Steve nodded and allowed Robin to lead him to the arena where the jousting would be held.
He was trudging up the stairs to bench seating when he heard a voice call out behind him.
“Steve!”
He turned around and saw Jeff waving something in the air. Hope lit a small fire in his chest. It couldn’t be.
He went thundering down the steps.
“Katie said you left this at her shop,” Jeff said a little breathless.
Steve gently took the pouch from him. “Thank you so much. I thought I had dropped it somewhere.”
Jeff grinned. “It’s for Eddie, isn’t it?”
He ducked his head and nodded.
“How do I thank you?” he breathed, his eyes welling up with tears.
“Just be sure to root for the black knight,” Jeff said with a wink.
“I will I promise.”
He turned around and searched the stands to see where they had all gone and to his surprise Jonathan and Nancy were waving at him sandwiched between a grinning Will and a pleased Mike.
Steve’s day was starting to look up. He sat down in the empty spot next to Robin at the end of the bench.
He showed her the pouch.
“Yay!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so glad you found it.”
Steve leaned forward and told them. “Jeff said to root for the black knight.”
Dustin leaned over too. “Aren’t black knights the bad guys?”
“Nope!” Steve said with a grin. “The black just means that he isn’t loyal to a specific lord. He’s a traveling mercenary looking for work in the only profession he knows. War.”
Everyone nodded.
Steve started explaining the history of the sport and what the different points were and how to win. Even what they won.
They were all hanging off his every word.
Steve felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked up. Callahan waved at him shyly.
“This is Sheila, my girlfriend,” he said. “She had a question about the joust.”
Next to the police officer was a pretty brunette in her early thirties. She wore bright red lipstick and was blushing.
She swatted at Callahan’s arm. “He doesn’t want to hear my dumb question.”
Steve grinned up her. “I’m happy to talk anyone’s ear off. Wha’cha got?”
She asked about if the lances were sharp and Steve explained that they weren’t. They even had wide tips to make the shock of the hit go over a wider area so the lancers didn’t get hurt.
****
In the cover of the stable where Eddie was helping Jeff, Jeff turned to him.
“That boy has got it bad for you,” he said pushing Eddie’s shoulder playfully.
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” He straightened up and popped his back. “You remember Louis?”
Jeff winced. He did in fact remember Louis. “Me and Bri still maintain he had a crush on you, he just wasn’t out yet and freaked on you.”
“Well,” Eddie huffed. “Steve ain’t out either, so I’m not touching that...” he made motions with his hands, “all that mess with a ten and a half foot pole, man.”
Jeff rolled eyes. “Look, I’m not saying I know for sure, but according to Gareth, who is the densest motherfucker on God’s green earth, said Steve was really sad when we weren’t there this morning.”
Eddie picked a pimple on his jaw nervously and Jeff swatted his hand away.
“I don’t want to ruin my friendship with Steve,” Eddie murmured. “If it goes badly I’m going to lose some of the kids in the divorce. Dustin and Red are the two biggest ones. They like me, but they love Steve.”
Jeff had to concede that one. “So make sure it doesn’t go south. Woo the bastard. You know how. And don’t give that bullshit about it being ‘only’ pretend at DND because I’ve seen you turn on the charm to get cheaper product from Reefer Rick or to let Gareth who isn’t even close to being twenty-one to perform at a bar.”
Eddie blushed. “Yeah, all right. You win.”
Jeff threw his arm around him and kissed his cheek. “Yes!”
Eddie pushed him off him. “Go on, your squire awaits!”
Jeff laughed but wandered off to finish getting ready.
Eddie shook his head fondly. But Jeff had a point. He couldn't wallow forever.
He had a Harrington to woo.
****
Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
And lo! There is the wild Callahan everyone expected to spot when he came to Steve's door all the way back in chapter 3.
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED
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Guilt Tripping - Yan! Diluc
Yandere Diluc x Fem! Reader
part 1 of the “Baby Trapping” series
Warnings: Toxic relationship, general yandere themes, guilt tripping (I think), emotional manipulation, slight victim blaming (I think?), drugging, implied future physical violence (Not towards reader), possessive and obsessive thoughts and behavior, overprotectiveness, overbearing actions, controlling actions/mindset, unhealthy and toxic mindset, paranoia, implied Yandere! Albedo (Towards a different reader of perhaps the same mini-series of this).
Not sfw warnings: Baby trapping, dub-c0n/non-c0n, unprotected sEx, cumming inside without permission, unconsensual and unethical use of aphrodisiacs, vaginal fingering, clothed grinding, loss of virginity (both parties and totally didn't forget to add this warning until now)
Diluc is straight up gaslighting himself in this. He’s aware of how awful he is but keeps justifying it lmao.
Please tell me if I missed any warnings that are needed.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT condone any of the toxic behavior and thoughts that may take place in this work of fiction. None of this should be romanticize or even considered normal as it is very toxic and very dangerous. If you find yourself in such a situation, please seek help if able to.
DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
WARNING: DUE TO TUMBLR’S SHITTY TAGGING SYSTEM, NOT EVERY TRIGGER WARNING WILL BE TAGGED, SO PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS THAT ARE WRITTEN ABOVE. THANK YOU.
MINORS AND AGLESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. THANK YOU.
Unedited.
Word count: 5134k
===
Diluc was aware that he could be… overbearing, at times. He’s aware that his presence can be suffocating, that he can be a bit delusional at times, and that he’s a bit controlling when it comes to you. But be doesn’t mean to do that on purpose – you just manage to bring out both the worse and the best out of him.
Whether or not you’re aware of that fact is up for debate.
He’s been preparing for the day you snap and talk back, or to take some ‘much needed’ space from the relationship. He can’t deny that your sanity is slowly withering away the more you deal with him. Again, he doesn’t mean to make you so stressed.
He just wants what’s best for you, as long as you come back into his arms. There are understandings at times, where you listen instead of charging away like a bull. He knows that you know he cares deeply for you, loves you to the moon and back. That he’d be willing to do almost anything for you.
Anything but this.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
One sentence, five words, is all it takes for his words to come crashing down around him. ‘I need a break’ implies you’ll be back after a week or so. It’s happened once or twice throughout your entire two years of your relationship. And it never lasted more than a week, max.
Diluc can feel the thin thread snapping like a nose around a neck. He swears that the world comes to a halt at your words, seeing nothing but white. Is he undergoing shock? Perhaps he heard you wrong. Yeah, that’s it – you must have said something else. A prank maybe? Or maybe you mixed up your words.
“What… what do you mean?” He hates the way his voice cracks, how shaky his hands become, even when they’re clenched hard enough to snap metal into two. Your facial expression doesn’t show any signs of playfulness.
There’s nothing playful about this situation.
You let out a sigh, fingers massaging your temple. “I said… I’m breaking up with you. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t deal with you anymore.” Your voice cracks, and there’s a silent sob. There’s a huff, an intake of air.
You’re trying your best not to break down in front of him. And he’s doing the same, fists clenching and unclenching as he thinks of something to say. What should he say? That you can’t leave? It’ll only make things more complicated, making you hostile towards him.
He can’t have that. He just can’t. but even so, he finds himself about to utter those words out loud. He bites his tongue.
“…I thought I was good to you. While… I do understand that I can get overbearing at times… I thought I was a good lover to you regardless of.” He tries to keep himself in check. Diluc was nothing but a good gentleman in your eyes, so he acts as such. Although, that illusion may be gone now.
“That’s the problem! You think you’re a good boyfriend. But you’re not. you’re so… overbearing and controlling. I can’t even talk to people you don’t approve of!” Your own thread had seemingly snapped, leaving nothing more than rage behind. Quite, dull rage that’s too exhausting to come out at once.
“You say it’s for my own good… that I need your protection…”
“I never said that- “
“You implied it. Every. Single. Time. you always imply it.”
There’s nothing but silence. There’s a guilty conscience. He can’t ignore it, but he won’t address it. Because that means he’ll have to let go. And he won’t, not even in death, where hell will surely drag him down. He’ll drag you if he has to.
“We can… let’s just talk about this, okay? No need to make any rash decisions.” He’s talking out of his ass right now. “It’s… been a stressful week. It’s late and we both got out of work not too long ago. Let’s just… how about you come over?”
You don’t say anything, not at first. A glimmer of hope. Yes, everything will go back to normal, over a glass or two, ending with you being a whimpering mess as he grinds against you. Just like always.
“No. I can’t… I won’t do that. It always has the same outcome anyway. We never ‘talk’, you just sweet talk your way out, and it ends with some type of sexual activity.” You shake your head, taking a step back. He takes a step forward.
It feels wrong for you to stand so far away. Alien. You should be next to him, no, in his arms as he soothes you. Reality and fantasy don’t mix well, he realizes. “Please,” he tries again, choking on air.
It can’t end like this. It can’t end at all.
“Diluc… I can’t. I just can’t. I know it may be hard for you to understand but, whether you realize it or not… you treat me like a doll. A pretty, fragile, glass doll.” You don’t look him in the eyes, probably can’t.
To be fair, it felt worse on your own end. You loved this man. You wanted to marry him. But it’s in past tense and you’re not sure if you can keep up this happy façade. He’s nothing but controlling at this point, overprotective, suffocating. You can’t live in denial anymore.
Another sigh, another sob. With every step he takes towards you, you take one back. There’s an invisible wall between you, too hard to shatter. At least completely.
“Hey… let’s talk again in a week. When the steam blows off, okay?” You try not to break, he sees it. The way your body tenses, the slight tumble. He makes an effort to not point it out. “Please?”
And you cave, breaking down, wailing like a child. You don’t move away, only flinching as he closes in on you, gently and slowly wrapping his arms around you. his grip on you is loose, not wanting to chase you away. Gentle, he must be gentle.
It’s always worked in the past. He just needs to tweak a few things to guarantee victory. Anything for you, no matter how shady it may be. His morals become dubious when it comes to you.
A few minutes pass before you answer.
“Alright.”
--
Truthfully, you didn’t want to go, your resolve going down the drain whenever it came to you. But you had already promised you would, weak in that moment. But he knew. He knew that you would eventually succumb to his wishes. It happens every time.
And it ends with heated kisses, hands exploring each other’s bodies, promises to wait for the full act after marriage huffed into your ears. Despite the bulge straining in his pants, hazy eyes that kept looking at your kiss swollen lips, he never did anything you were uncomfortable with. And for that, you were grateful. But it doesn’t excuse his other behavior.
Something didn’t feel right. You were nothing short of tense, weary of what’s to come. Would he try to pull something? Or procced to guilt trip you once more, as unknowingly as usual? You could never tell with him, despite dating for two years.
Two years and he became a different person.
No. Beneath that gentlemanly exterior lies a control, obsessive and possessive freak. And you fell for it, the charm, the words, the looks. You dug your own grave without even knowing. And now it’s time to dig your way out, no matter how painful it may be.
You just hope your resolve will stay strong.
It must.
--
Diluc was nervous. It was more common these days, a nervous Diluc. He can’t help it but to be nervous around you. You were just so pretty, adorable, irresistible. And there was a time where you thought the same, where you couldn’t even take your eyes off of him. And yet, you don’t anymore.
He’s aware why. It’s because of him. But you need to understand was for your protection. He has too many enemies, there’s too much danger in the outside world. Surly, you would come around eventually, right?
Wrong. He was so, so wrong. He should have kept up with the gentle approach, no matter the amount of years it might have taken. It’s not too late to restart… right?
Just act the way you always portrayed him as. His mask has slipped too much too quickly. And now, he needs to fix everything as quickly as possible. The question is how to.
He glances at the wine bottle. A little drug as curiosity of Sir Albedo… a new and up coming drug. An aphrodisiac is what he called it. It was still in its developmental stages, but harmless. He was even given the right dose.
A questioning look in the alchemist’s eyes, no concerns were voiced. Most likely thought it wasn’t his business. And besides… even the esteemed Alchemist Albedo Kreideprinz had skeletons in his closet. Likeminded people must stick together, right?
And thus, the aphrodisiac was handed to him under the table, and now in this ‘new’ and ‘unopened’ bottle of wine. The cork was a new one, the previous one hastily thrown into the trash, covered with other discarded things. Not a smooth cover-up, but one you wouldn’t notice. And, if you were to ask for juice, he even drugged that beforehand.
He flinches slightly when a servant comes up to him, announcing your appearance. He takes in a deep breath before grabbing the bottle and two glasses, making his way to the study. When he gets there, he pauses. Would he be able to pull this off?
If you do ask for it, he has your consent, right? Yes, you wanted to save yourself for marriage but…
He shakes his head, ridding himself of those thoughts. He’ll back down if he thinks about too much. So, he takes a deep breath, straightens himself. His feet feel heavy as he walks into the room. He keeps the door open.
“(name). You came.”
You jolt at that, whipping your head around to see his figure at the doorway.
“Yes… just for a bit. This isn’t a casual visit, after all.” You built a wall around yourself, trying to smile but failing. He doesn’t comment on it.
“Ah. I suppose that’s… right.” Awkward silence, your hands tightly clasping together. His own grip on the glasses and bottle are tight as well. Swiftly, he places the objects down on the table in front of you. Everything has to be perfect. This night needs to end on a good note.
“Wine?” he asks, eyeing the way your jaw tenses as you hesitate to answer. You want to say no, he can see it, feel it. And hopefully, you won’t. His legs are already shaking like a newborn foal’s.
“I… sure.” A quiet sigh of relieve, and he opens the bottle, a loud ‘pop’ echoing in the room. You don’t take your eyes off of it. You’re weary of him. And he doesn’t have the right to complain or even feel offended.
Because you were right to be weary. To be weary of him.
He pours you a glass and himself one. He’s going to take the drug with you. God, he’s already silently regretting this. Not because he’s tricking you (although that’s part of it), but because he’ll have to explain, in detail (something he dreads, but a favor is a favor) of the results. He hates himself for being used a test subject and ragging you into it.
He can’t feel bad, considering he was the one who chose this route.
“Thank you…” you say as he passes a glass to you. He sits in front of you, the plush chair soft against him. He takes a sip.
“So… about our relationship… do you truly want to end it? We can work through this together.” He croaks out, trying his best not to ramble. He takes a deep breath, calming his nerves. He can do this.
“… I’m not sure if this relationship is savable. Two years and you’ve just gotten… worse. Much worse than you have gotten better. It’s like you’ve been possessed.” He can see your eyes water up, but you don’t let them fall.
He wants to wipe them away.
“What do you mean?” He’s never felt so scared in his life. He hates this. He hates himself. “It’s just… I know I can get overbearing, and I promise that I don’t do it on purpose-“
You cut him off, “That’s the problem. You don’t do it on purpose. It’s harder to resent you that way.”
Resent him? What do you mean by that?
“I don’t… I don’t know what to do. You’re… you used to be a good boyfriend. Someone I wanted to marry… but you’re not that same person anymore. And I’m not sure if we can fix this… if you can fix yourself. I’m not a therapist… yet you treated me as one for years.”
Your shoulders slack and you don’t make an effort to look at him. You don’t make an effort to drink the wine either.
He can feel his heart breaking. What should he do? What can he do? Crying (a rare sight indeed) won’t do anything. It’ll only prove you right if he cries and begs for you to reconsider. He needs you to drink the wine. A good amount of it.
He takes another swing, enough to the point the glass is almost empty. Too much at once, he hasn’t even eaten yet. He wants to eat you. But not when you’re crying like this.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that I was that… inconsiderate.” Ever so slowly, he takes small steps towards you. You don’t resist when he gets on his knees, gently placing his head on your lap. His arms wrap around your legs. And, almost as if it was natural, your hand comes town to thread fingers through his hair.
Even when you ‘resent’ him, you still comfort him. You really were too good for him. But it’s because of that he doesn’t want to let go. No. he’d never let you go. He’ll drag you to hell if he has to.
“… To think the esteemed Diluc would beg on his knees… hah,” a humorless laugh that shakes him through his core. You sound tired, so, so tired. You’re really going to give up on him. Was he really that bad? Sure, maybe he overshared, at times, and was a bit controlling, but…
He never hit you. Never raised his voice at you.
He’s in denial. He doesn’t want to admit to his mistakes right now. He’ll do it (probably) after you two make up. He’ll do it once you say you won’t leave, that you won’t give up on him, on the relationship. You’re all he has left.
His father’s dead, his ‘brother’ is a spy, he can’t really get along with anyone on an emotional level. Anyone except you. You know this, so why are you putting him through this? Can’t you see he needs you?
God helps the poor soul would dare take you away.
“… I’m sorry. I really am,” useless, he’s so useless right now. Helpless, he hates himself, he hates you. “I… can’t lose you. I love you, you know that, right?” Like he wasn’t the one pushing you away with his behavior and actions.
He’s a horrible person, a dreadful and emotional abusive boyfriend. The naked eye can’t see it, but a trained one can. Likeminded people can. The victim can.
“Diluc… sit down, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick,” you run your fingers through his red mop of hair before retreating it. No, no, no, you can’t do that. You just can’t.
You have to drink the wine. You need to understand he’s protecting you. You need to understand he needs you. So, stay, please.
Don’t make things even more complicated.
“… do you love me?” He looks up, eyes glossy and he watches as your strong façade crumble. He was your weakness as you were his. You’re perfect for each other, however toxic the relationship may be.
“I… I don’t know anymore. I feel like I love you, but I know I shouldn’t.” Shaking your head, you gently push at his shoulders. The effort is weak, almost meaningless. He gives a squeeze before getting up and returning to his seat.
It’s when he sits down, head falling into his hands, when you take a swing. He hears you slam the glass on the mahogany wood. Hope lights up in his chest, but even so, it feels so wrong. But he needs to do this. For him. For you.
How selfish of a person he was.
“… I can’t promise I won’t fall back into the habit, but –“
“You said that last time. And here we are, again. You say you’ll do better, that you’ll listen. Sure, you do, but only for a week. And then the cycle repeats.” You sigh out, now crying, finally breaking down despite everything.
Sobs, ugly sobs that he hates to hear. He’s not sure when he got up, or how long he’s been hugging you, but he knows that you need comfort. Maybe not from him, but he’s the only one here anyway. The servants are outside, cleaning the yard, tending to the grapes, shooing of pests.
Just you and him. No-one will hear, and even if they did… who are they to question their boss? Money talks.
You stay like that, for a while. Crying in his arms as he strokes your hair. He’s not sure when you had stopped, and completely forgotten about the drug.
He only remembers it when his body starts to heat up. And the same must be said for you, as you’re quivering in his grasp. The way you quiver whenever he drags you across his crotch, erection making contact with your clothed pussy.
Like right now, your hips rolling against his as he practically dragged you to the couch in the study once you started to kiss out of pure lust. You’re panting above him, eyes shut tight. Maybe you didn’t want to see him. He hates it, but that’s okay. As long as you’re here, with him, and not thinking of another man.
“Fuck… my body’s hot. I’m scared yet I can’t stop… did you put something in the drink?” You question him, voice broken and breathy as you keep rolling your hips. Harder, faster, more friction, you need him as much as he needs you. He’ll get you, and you’ll have him.
Like it’s supposed to be.
“Are you… mmh… that weary of me?” You’re far too gone to properly hear him, chasing pleasure above answers. His gloved fingers tug at your skirt, wanting it off. He wants to see you bare. Patience... patience, he tells himself.
A squeal, mouth open and he can’t help but kiss you. saliva everywhere, any pretense of a breakup gone. For now. And yet you both don’t care, delving into the pits of pleasure that’ll never be enough. He bites your lips hard enough to draw blood, you claw at his neck deep enough to see crimson.
You hurt and take, hurt and take. You break his heart, he’ll break your mind on his cock. Just… be good.
“Diluc… wedding… I want to wait – oh! – but… ah… not sure if I can…” you’re groping yourself, thumb ribbing at where your nipple would be. Too many clothes, hot, clit throbbing while grinding against him like there’s no tomorrow. Diluc takes this chance to tease you, just a bit.
“Wedding… you still want to marry me?” There’s a slight teasing to it, and he proceeds to kiss your neck. Gently, gently, so gentle you want more. He wants to drive you crazy. “But, of course, if you want it now, I won’t say no…”
Another moan, another messy kiss. Your lips are raw by now, and you’re not sure when he dragged the front of your shirt down, sucking on the bare skin before him. He bites your neck, leaving marks, he gropes your breasts, your hands now tugging at his hair.
He hisses at the sting, but it only drives him to do more. His free hand dives under your dress, the skirt of it wrinkled now.
“Diluc… please, fuck, I need you,” you breathe out, grinding against his hand as he teases you through your underwear. Slowly, he brings his hand back, using his teeth to take his glove off. Almost, he’s almost there. He needs to loosen you up. Hopefully, hopefully this drug will help with the pain.
Ah. Blood.
He needs to do this in the bedroom, easier to change the sheets.
--
You’re naked in no time, and despite the drug running through your veins like fire, you’re still scared. Very scared, and he feels so horrible about it. and yet, yet he can’t stop himself for shit. He’s horrible, shitty, controlling, obsessive, possessive, and desperate. Paranoid to a fault, he plans on tying you to him via family.
It’s hard to raise a child on your own. Reputation is important, and everyone would lose respect for you, for a good while at first. And besides… they would know who the father was. If they inherit his features, be it the red hair or ruby eyes, they’ll know. They’ll blame one of you, both of you, taking one side or the other.
Thus, it’s just overall easier to stay together, avoiding controversy. A horrible and risky plan. But you would need the support, the funds, the father. It’s harder, nearly impossible to run away from him in such a state.
“Hey… it’ll be okay. I’ll take it slow, alright?” He reassures you, smiling down at you gently. He’s always imagined you like this – a panting mess, lips kiss swollen, hair sprayed around his pillow and your hair. Bite marks everywhere, nipples tendered from being sucked on so much.
He’ll make a mental note to be more gentle next time. But for now, he trails down his hand, fingers ghosting over your burning skin. Shaky breaths, and he can’t take his eyes off of the way you stare downwards. He’s naked too, his own hickies littering his neck like a necklace.
“G-gentle…,” you breathe out, legs shaking in both fear and anticipation. You can’t wait, and neither can he. So he doesn’t, tracking your slick slit once before slowly entering. A gasp, and h looks up to make sure you weren’t in too much pain.
Instead, he’s met with the sight of you biting your lips, pleasure written all over your face. The drug works, it’s helping with the pain. Making things far easier than he thought it would be. He’ll make sure to thank Albedo to the moon and back.
“Diluc…” He’s brought back to reality when you whimper his name, and he softly shushes you. If you say his name like that one more time, he might just slip in without any prep. Without any consideration.
“Shh… there’s no need to rush. Let’s try to take our time, okay?” He kisses your forehead, finger curling slightly inside you. The way you arch your back is heavenly, the drug making you far more sensitive. “I’ll take good care of you. Promise.”
Nodding, you relax, allowing him to add a second finger. It feels rushed despite his words, but you don’t comment on it. You can’t, not when he’s curling them oh so deliciously. And he knows this, he’s not completely lost in lust just yet. He needs to drown you in pleasure, drive you crazy with it before he succumb to his own desire completely.
Just a bit more.
The squelching echoes in his room, bouncing off the walls. His ribs had become a drum, his heart the stick. Small, needy breaths that leave your lips, crying out when he curls his fingers at a certain angle. Oh. He found it.
Your g-spot.
He’s heard of it, and thought it was rubbish at first. Until Adelinde smacked his head when he suggested such a thing. The Head Maid made sure to educate him on sex that day, showing diagrams and pictures, along with books written about the subject. He’s almost entirely forgotten about it.
“There?” he asks, repeating the action once more. You nod your head several times and in quick succession – too lucid to properly beg, too desperate to fully think it thoroughly. “Such a needy little thing,” a third finger elicits a hiss from you, causing him to pause. He waits until you give him the green light.
“It – it feels weird… but good at the same time. Is this normal?” Croaking, you’re croaking out sentences now, and Diluc resists the urge to kiss you until you run out of breath. Your fingers grasp at his shoulders, trembling slightly. He can’t tell if it’s from fear or pleasure.
For his own sanity, he hopes it’s the latter.
“I’m… not sure. I think it is. Just tell me if it’s too much, and I’ll slow down.”
He didn’t say he would stop.
Diluc sees the worry in your eyes, the questions he won’t answer, and he feels guilty. It’s far too late to stop, and even if you were to ask him of it, he wouldn’t be able to. So he gives you the illusion of choice, and from the way your eyes travel down to where he’s fingering you, he can only guess you chose to ignore the reasoning in your head. What a good girl you are for and to him. Like always.
“Diluc… Diluc…” your eyes shut tight, breathing heavier as he fastens his pace, fingers pumping in and out while curling all the same. You need this too, right? He can’t force you if you were the one who asked for it.
Your belly tightens, and hips grind against the hell of his palm. You’re almost there, he thinks. You’re becoming wild, all pretense of rationally gone with the wind. He’s there, he’s there, you’re there, shivering in the palm of his hand. Like you should be.
“Ah, ah, fuck!” One more buck of your hips and he feels something wet. Upon looking down, he notices something red, very thing and small, mixed with a clear liquid. Did you cum? He feels bad for making you bleed already*.
Your chest heaves, and for a moment, he’s afraid you’ll come back to your sense. You’ll hate him for sure. But his own body is burning, cock twitching, and he’s going to die if you resist. Please, just make everything simple and easy. Please, for both of your sakes.
He gives you time to recover despite the urge to fuck you silly. Patience, patience, at least pretend to be a gentleman he tells himself. Anything and everything for you. Except letting you go.
“Do you need a breather?” gently, gently he removes his fingers, trying his best to treat you nicely. He tries not to grit his teeth when you nod your head. He’s already doing something awful. He needs to make you comfortable, at the very least.
A few minutes before you calm down, laying flat on your back, hands leaving him and choosing to grip his sheets instead. You’re distancing yourself from him. A bit lucid, but enough to resist.
“Alright… please be gentle,” closing your eyes, your arousal is still there, you still need him as badly as he needs you. He doesn’t wait a second to hover above you properly. His place, this is his place, you’re his and will always be his. You signed your faith the moment you appeared in his life.
“Gentle…,” he tells himself, taking in a deep breath. It stings you when he pushes in, slowly and gentle like he promised. Hands grip your hips, and he leans back on his heels a bit. You gasp, from pleasure mostly, and he stills. Be a gentleman in appearance, at least.
One second, two seconds, and at ten he starts to move. a deep sigh of pleasure from you both, yours higher than his. The tone was different compared to when you dragged your hips across his, clothes separating you. But now, now he can feel everything – the thought of a condom never having crossed your mind once. Good, everything is sailing smoothly.
“You’re, ngh, tight… fuck, you’re driving me crazy angel.” Unexpectedly, you mewl at the nickname, and without meaning too, he gives a hard thrust. Fuck, you’re going to be the death of him. One thrust, two thrust, and you’re begging him to fuck you harder at the fifth one, legs wrapping around his waist and hands clawing at his chest.
He loves you like this; he wants you remain so needy for him. “Diluc! Fuck, don’t stop!” Both blood and slick cover his cock and make a mess on his bed. He’ll have to give you a warm towel after this, a glass of water. And a lie about cumming inside.
“It feels good, fuck why did we wait so long?” His hips can’t stop moving as he questions you. You don’t answer, you can’t when you’re moaning like a whore. And he loves it, he loves the fact that only he can make you this way. He loves the fact that he’ll be your first and last partner.
He might hurt a man who would dare to attempt to do the same.
It doesn’t last long, neither of you do. He makes sure to circle your clit with his thumb, wanting to bring you more pleasure. You needed to finish with him. You needed to be distracted from the feeling of his cum painting your womb white.
And when he does, he lets out a low groan, your squeal music to his ears. he holds you tight until his balls are empty. And ever so slowly pulls out, careful to not alarm you. His goal was done, and hopefully, this’ll be enough to get you pregnant.
If not, he’ll come up with other plans.
“I love you…” one of his hands comes down to wipe away the sweat from your forehead. Your skin is sticky, eyes dazed. It’s a sight he’ll never forget.
You don’t answer, not at first.
“I… I love you too.”
A soft peck and he’s up to soak a towel in warm water. You’re too tired to check your lower half, eyes closing against your will. But it’s okay, it’s Diluc after all. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything… right?
As for Diluc… he’s already coming up with baby names.
===
A/N:* - tmi but the very first time I got fingered, I bleed a bit lmao. I don’t know how it is for everyone else, so I just used my own experiences. Seriously though, acting like Diluc in this fic is fucked up. Please don’t do that.
#Yandere#tw:yandere#yandere genshin#yandere diluc#yandere genshin impact#yandere diluc ragnvindr x reader#diluc smut#diluc ragnvindr x reader#genshin x reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact x reader#diluc x reader
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You are the best thing that's ever been mine - Part 2
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)
Summary: Sao Paulo 2024. The Dutchman delivered a defining drive…but maybe there is a relationship that could also use some defining.
Warnings: Jos Verstappen, angst, crying, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation
Author Notes: Hi, hey, hello! Apparently I write F1 Fanfiction now?! Also this is the first time I am trying a social media au so my Canva Skills were put to the test. (Disclaimer: I kinda put legibility over authencity, so twitter doesn't look like twitter and messages looks like...something).
Also huge thanks to @onebigfangirlworld and @leodette for holding my hand with this 😘)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/293184fff2ac678089b91c730d507b7d/8f39bd1a7583b0ec-2d/s540x810/f1bd8074619098bd385e2b97e139fe23ef0c65a0.jpg)
The checkered flag waved and GP was in his ear: "Wow. It’s been a long time coming, mate, but, boy, was that worth the wait. You are the man."
Max pulled in a slow breath. His heart was beating fast with the exhilaration of the race, with the thrill of victory. He had won. The first time since the Spanish Grand Prix. From P17 to P1.
"OOOH YES!! What an unbelievable race, guys! You know what that is? Simply lovely."
"Max, that was amazing. 17th to first. That was a world champion’s drive. You were absolutely a class of your own today, " came Christian's voice over the radio.
There was something in his tone of voice...something that scratched something at the edges of Max's brain.
"We had an...incident at the garage today," Christian said carefully. "I would like to start this with saying that Ariel is fine."
Max didn't like the sound of that. An "incident" at the garage? That didn't sound good. And he didn't like the way Christian's tone was all cautious, as if he was bracing for some kind of reaction.
He swallowed, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. "What happened?" he asked, his hands clenching around the steering wheel.
There was a pause, and Max could almost picture Christian gathering his thoughts. "Jos," Christian finally said. "He said some things, and he..." another pause. “He slapped her."
Max's mind blanked out.
He slapped her.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened so much it made his knuckles white. His heart was suddenly racing again, but not from the race. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, fueled by anger.
"What do you mean, he slapped her?" he asked through gritted teeth.
His father had done what?
"Exactly that," Christian replied, his voice firm. "He was yelling at her for no reason, and he slapped her. It was completely out of line, and it's absolutely unacceptable behavior. I've already dealt with him, sent him away. Max, I didn't tell you earlier because I knew it would only distract you in the race. I didn't want you to worry or get worked up."
He couldn’t talk. Couldn’t bring out the words.
He remembered the commotion he had heard, the wordless screaming that had happened…he hadn’t been able to make out the words…but he could just about imagine how it must have…
And alone the thought of anybody, especially his own father, laying his hands on Ariel in anger…it was making him ready to go to prison for life for outright murder.
Jos had put his hands on Ariel.
On Ariel.
Ariel.
The best thing that had ever happened to him. The one person in his life that he knew was going to have his back in every single way every single day. The one person that had never backed down from his temper, that had never hesitated to call him an asshole… who had been there for him for years.
Who knew him better than he even knew himself sometimes. It was…
It was infuriating.
Ariel was his. Nobody got to lay his hands on her unless they wanted to deal with Max himself.
"How is Ariel?" he bit out sharply.
"She's a bit rattled," Christian replied quickly, and Max could hear the hesitation in his voice. "A bit shaken up understandably, but she's okay. The medic checked her out. She's...she vomited afterwards." That sent a cold shard of worry down Max's spine.
She had already looked pale and green around the gills that morning but he hadn’t quite… Max hadn’t really thought that that was…anything but…
Ariel hated wet races, even when she had never outright said it. Max had thought that it was just her nerves and not that anything had been physically wrong with her… but then she had had seafood for dinner the evening before, maybe that hadn’t been a good choice…
But whatever it was, Max couldn't help the image of her pale, shaky, and vomiting flashing through his mind.
"I'm coming now," he said firmly, his decision made in a heartbeat. "I’m coming to the garage right now."
"Max, you just won a race," Christian protested, his voice concerned. "You're supposed to be celebrating right now."
He didn't care. All he could think about was her. He had to see her, he had to make sure she was okay.
"I'm not celebrating anything until I see her," he retorted, his tone brooking no argument. He didn’t care what he was supposed to do. He needed to see her. He needed to see her now. "Is she still with the medic?”
"No, she is taking a nap in your driver's room," Christian answered after a moment.
The news brought a wave of relief through Max.
At least she was resting, and safe from Jos' reach.
"She's sleeping. She's fine. At least get weighed first, alright?" Christian pushed him. "I'll talk to the FIA, maybe we can sneak you out for a moment before the interviews start?"
To say that he was furious about it was an understatement.
Max had never been so angry in his whole damn life.
The anger was a living thing inside him, an inferno of righteous fury. How dare Jos confront her like that? How dare he put his hands on her? The very thought made him grind his teeth to the point that his jaw ached.
For the first time in his life...that win didn't matter to him. At all.
The win...he had won. That would normally fill him with pride, with satisfaction and the adrenaline of accomplishment.
But it meant nothing right now.
No win in his life mattered if he was going to lose Ariel.
Nothing mattered without Ariel. She was the only thing that mattered.
Nothing compared to the thought of her being hurt, of her being at the receiving end of one of Jos' outbursts.
Max could deal with his father’s poisonous words. His father could say whatever he wanted to him. But Jos hadn’t.
Jos had spit his venom in the direction of the most important person in Max’s life. Had dared to put a hand on her.
And that meant…that the fury that burned in Max’s gut was all-consuming, a fire in his veins that burned away everything else.
When he finally brought the car to the designated stop, he unclipped himself and climbed out...Normally a win after such a long drought...it would have made the Red Bull garage erupt.
This time the usual celebrations after a race were replaced by a somber mood. Everyone was there of course, congratulating him on the win, but the usual cheer and happiness were missing. Everybody's mind was still caught up in the events that had taken place during the race.
Christian was the first to greet him. He patted his back firmly. "Well done, mate," Christian said, his voice quiet. "It's been a long time coming. You deserve this one."
Somehow he mustered a thanks, even when the fury was still coiling deep within him.
The need to be by Ariel’s side, to reassure himself that she was fine, was almost overwhelming.
And instead of doing just that, there was the media waiting for him.
Of course there was.
They were like vultures, circling the winning driver, waiting for their chance to ask questions and take pictures. Max hated them at that moment, hated every single soul of them.
Max had never wanted to strangle the media more. His jaw was tight as he was bombarded with question after question about the incident in the garage.
“Have you heard about what happened?”
“Do you know what it was about?”
"What was said?"
The questions were relentless, and he could feel his anger simmering just under the surface. It took every ounce of his control to keep himself from lashing out. "I just heard about the incident," he said, keeping his tone icily even. "I don't know anything yet. I'll talk to Ariel as soon as I am done here."
One of the reporters, a little more brazen than the others, piped up with a question. "There are rumours that Ms. Cane is...well...expecting. Is there any truth to that? And if yes, are you the father?"
The question stunned Max into a moment of silence.
What was…What the actual fuck?
It took him a moment to process the question, to comprehend what the reporter was insinuating. Pregnant? Ariel? With his baby? The very idea was...it was sending him into a tailspin.
Regardless of whatever everybody else had ever thought...there had never… nothing had ever happened between him and Ariel.
She was his best friend. The person he trusted most in the whole world and he quite simply adored her.
It wasn't that he didn't want her.
He did.
That had never been a question. From the very first time he had ever seen her...he had fallen a little bit in love right then and there, in late 2019...fallen in love with the blue eyed girl with the bright red hair that had smiled at him in that meeting room.
She had never once taken any of his bullshit. Had never once backed down from any challenge he issued… had met him head on, her shoulder squared.
Ariel had grown too important too quickly for him. He was utterly terrified of fucking it up. Of losing her. What if she didn’t return his feelings? What if she did and then they ended up divorced down the line and hating each other?
At least like this… he could have her as his best friend. That would need to be enough.
It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close to enough.
But to be asked that question...to be asked if she was carrying his child...it was like pouring gasoline into an open fire. It just made the possessiveness well up inside him like a tidal wave.
He wanted to snap. He wanted not to answer at all. He wanted to tell the media to fuck off and leave him the hell alone. He wanted to answer that question by giving the reporter a bloody nose.
"That's a very personal question," he said, his eyes cold. "The answer is no. To both questions.”
Another reporter, not satisfied with that answer, piped up. "There have been rumors though," he started. "About a possible relationship-"
“My personal life is not up for discussion,” he cut him off sharply. "Ariel Cane is the best thing that has ever happened to me. She has been my best friend for the last 5 years and a vital part of our team. Ariel is..." he trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase it. How to express the enormity of what she meant to him. And when he finally spoke, he was surprised at how easily the words came. "She's incredibly important to me. Ariel is a remarkable woman, who I respect immensely. And a day doesn't pass, where I don't appreciate having her in my life," he continued. He had to defend her, to make it clear that what was between them was not what the media liked to portray it as.
The reporters looked a little stunned at the outburst. The room fell silent, everyone digesting his words. Max didn't care.
He had said what he needed to say, and had set the record straight. The last thing he wanted was for her to be dragged down because of him.
Someone finally broke the silence. "What about your father?" another reporter asked carefully. "Will you talk with him?"
The mere mention of his father brought the anger back into the forefront of his mind. He ground his teeth, his hands clenched into fists. Max felt the anger flare up inside him again, hotter than before.
“I will. He won’t like what I have to say,” he snapped.
"Don't you think that your father may have had a reason for slapping her?" one reporter piped up.
"No," Max's answer was sharp and immediate. "There is absolutely nothing that would justify what he did. And if my father ever dares to even think about getting close to her again, I will make his life an absolute living hell," he said, his voice quiet but deadly.
The reporter looked like he wanted to press the point, like he wanted to dig further. But Max was done answering questions now.
"That's enough," he said firmly, his voice brooking no further argument. "Now I would like to go and see my friend and beg for her forgiveness."
He didn't wait for a response, the need to see her taking over every other thought.
He didn't fucking care anymore. If the FIA wanted to fine him, they could do that. He had more money than he knew what to do with after all.
He turned away from the reporters, ignoring the last of their shouted questions, and made a beeline for the Red Bull Garage. He didn't stop, didn't slow down even when Team Officials tried to talk to him.
All he cared about was getting to her. Getting to her and making sure she was okay.
Next Part
#max verstappen fanfiction#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#max verstappen fluff#mv1 fanfiction#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fake instagram#f1 smau#max verstappen social media au
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