#no one has to read this I just like talking

[mameillieureennemie]

cw: weed, smoking, shotgunning

stoner!vi x reader

don't ask. i would love a joint, though.

stoner!vi who raises a brow when you ask her what's like to be high. you're inquisitive, eyes wide with your curiosity, and vi finds it funny how this makes her fall in love with you even more.

"you've never tried it?" vi asks, simply wanting to know, never judgemental. you shake your head, all open and honest.

"i just never had the opportunity to," you confess. "well, not with someone that i trust." the look you give vi after that is meaningful, one that reads, "but i trust you" and vi—vi feels like you've bestowed upon her the greatest honour.

"come over to my place friday night," she says instead, smiling. "i'll take you through it."

your smile is beaming, so bright with its brilliance that it's blinding.

stoner!vi who gets you the best weed she can find. ensures that it's not too harsh, just right for a first-time user. she grinds it until it's fine, trying to focus on what she's doing and not on the feeling of your eyes on her. as she expertly rolls up the joint, you let a brief noise of awe and vi snorts, amused.

"it's nothing special, sweetness," vi says, bringing the joint up to her lips, lighter at the ready. "just years of practice."

"i know," you reply, and vi sees how you get a bit fidgety. "it just looks cool when you do it." you lower your head a little, playing with the hem of your shirt. you're flustered, it's easy to tell. "all easy and stuff, it's..."

you don't finish your sentence, but vi can guess what you wanted to say. that has her growing a bit flustered, too, her face warming up as she lits the joint between her lips.

stoner!vi who takes the first hit and blows the smoke from her nose. then she guides it to your lips, watching intently as your pretty lips wrap around it. she tells you to inhale slowly, but you take it a bit too fast and you end up coughing. vi's instantly reaching for the water on her bedside table, passing it to you before she's patting your back.

"eager," vi teases, as you take a sip of water. she laughs when you flip her off.

"shut up," you croak, and you reach for the joint again, not wanting to be defeated.

your second hit goes a bit better, the third goes down with more ease, as does the fourth. soon vi's watching you smoke without her aid, her eyes sharp as she keeps observing you.

you're getting a little giggly, it's adorable. you're also very talkative, babbling on about everything and anything. but then you grow quiet, your head against vi's shoulder as you stare out into the room in a haze.

"i feel good," you murmur after a moment, nuzzling your cheek into the curve of her shoulder. "you make me feel good."

"yeah?" vi replies softly, holding you close with an arm around your waist. she's started to feel the effects, too. "i make you feel good?"

"sooooo good," you say around a giggle, then you’re leaning your head back so you can look up at her. "please," you whisper now. "continue to make me feel good."

with your eyes on her, soft and dazed, vi's weakness for you shows.

"i'll always make you feel good, baby," vi promises before basking in the sun of your immediate smile.

stoner!vi whose first kiss with you is through shotgunning. she pulls you in after taking a drag, presses your mouth open with her thumb and index finger digging into your cheeks. you allow it, moaning when vi blows smoke into your mouth. then her tongue's licking into you, tracing your teeth and the roof of your mouth. you cling to her helplessly, your hands delving into her hair to pull her even closer, vi hissing her approval.

"so good," you slur when drawing back for a breath, high off the weed and vi, and vi would be a fool to disagree.

she's been high off you for the longest time.

[valalice]

ꪆৎ restless.

cw. fluff. smut nsfw. fem!reader. established relationship (ya'll are so in love). canon divergence. porn with a little bit of plot. sub!ellie. fingering & tit play/sucking (e!receiving). slight body worship. ellie is called pretty girl :3

ellie’s body twists and turns. she’s been at it since the moment the two of you decided to settle for the night, migrating from the couch downstairs to the bed upstairs. on any other night upon resting her head on the plushness of her pillow, ellie would’ve been knocked out; that was the magic of your guys’ bed worked, but evidently its magic had run out this night.

with a flop onto her side, a sigh huffs from ellie’s parted lips, her tongue darting out to swipe along her chapped lips as the alarm clock settled on her nightstand reads 3:44 a.m.

it’s as if your conscious could sense her frustration when your warm body flushes against her back, settling against ellie you lift a leg over her hip. “can’t sleep?”

guilt immediately pings within ellie’s chest at the hoarseness of your voice; she had woken you up with her restless stirring, she knows she has because she’s done it countless times before. and regardless of each time it happens, whether the nights are eerily repetitive because she’s had the same nightmare again or she’s scrambling in the bed, jerking to pull open the drawer to her nightstand to pull out the tattered sketchbook and pen, scratching whatever image had just flashed through her adventurous mind; you're always there to sooth her, and she feels guilt.

“it’s nothin’.” she blatantly lies, she knows you can tell because she's never been the best liar, her voice wavers towards the end of her sentences when she does. a dead giveaway that even she doesn't believe her words.

your arm comes to rest in the divit of ellie’s hip, taking the hem of her shirt in between your fingers, feeling the soft fabric before you plunge your hand beneath the material to lay flat against her stomach. enacting a shiver that subsides as you use gentle force to pull her further into you, wishing to morph into one.

“i thought we got past lying?” your voice laced with teasing a manner you hope she catches. nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the soft linen and the remnants of her woodsy soap lingering on her skin, it's a smell you know as home.

a shiver travels down her spine once more as you exhale. “we did.” she knows she's not giving you much to work with. and she knows that response was a bit snappy, but she's working on it. she's been working on it, old ways die hard, is what she's learned.

“so, talk to me, els. i’m no mind reader.”

she puffs air, returning back to her stirring ways, but this time to twist in your grasp to face you, your limbs becoming further entangled. “i’m jus’ frustrated is all.”

in any other moment you would've flicked your girlfriend’s forehead. you could tell something had her worked up without needing to see her face, but now that you have, her freckled face remains solemn and her eyes sunken from the lack of sleep. “with?” you egg her on, itching closer to decoding the puzzle that is ellie’s inability to outwardly express herself in moments like these.

ellie's eyes shift to anywhere but your face. focusing on the twinkle of moonlight that cascaded in while the night winds whistle a sing into the bedroom from the cracked window. this should calm the beating in her ears from the thumping of her heart, but as long as your touch persist on her, she knows she'll never fully be calm; it'll just ignite the low flames in the pit of her stomach to full blazing hot fire. "ellie." the sound of your voice grounds her, but her gaze still fights yours.

you hand springs from beneath her shirt, raising it to rest against her cheek, your palm warm from the heat radiating off her body. "look at me, baby." coercing her head so that she's finally looking you in the eyes, your gaze soft, and voice even softer, she hangs onto that word—baby. she cracks.

"i need you." it's nearly inaudible, her words breathy and quick, but you're lucky you caught it. unknowingly your eyebrows had been furrowed, they're released to raise instead, and you can't help the smile that's broken onto your face; it all makes sense now.

"that's all you needed to say." unlike ellie's, your voice was loud, and now honeyed from the hoarseness, but still had an air of lightness, to remind her that it's okay—okay to speak what you want, what you need. pulling her closer to place a sweet peck on her lips, pulling away before ellie gets too ambitious. retracting all limbs from her you pull yourself up to rest against the headboard, getting comfortable for the ride. it's a sight to behold when you turn back to ellie, still laid under the covers, propped up on an elbow as she watches you, chest heaving shallow breaths as she awaits with wide eyes for the next words to fall from your lips. outstretching a hand, "c'mon." kicking off the covers hastily, your hands stretch to rest on ellie's waist as you guide her body to be slotted between your legs, hovering her on your thigh.

her hands reach to cup at your jaw, and you pull her in by the grasp on her waist into a heated kiss, deciding now that you'd settle her down on her thigh, causing ellie to moan into the kiss.

you don't mind giving her what she wants right now, it's the least you could do, really. you'd somehow figure out how to become an engineer to build a spaceship for her, then you'd both become astronauts and explore space like how'd she'd always dreamed—it was a distant dream, but you'd make it reality, and when she's filled with content from the space exploration you'd also create some sick invention to take the moon and shrink it, so that back on earth, in her study she'd have the real (not a replica) of the moon she could examine at anytime of the day. and maybe that would destroy earth in the process, but you'd be too distracted from ellie experiencing happiness to really care.

maybe you're just lovesick as you sallow up ellie's moans, getting high off of pleasure, and that she seeks her pleasure in you; either way you wouldn't have it any other way.

snaking a hand around her front, you fingers leaving light strokes at her clothed clit. ellie pulls away with a gasp, letting her forehead rest against yours, peerkng down between your bodies to watch you, her mouth still agaped.

she still humps at your thigh desperately, the skin below the fabric becoming damp from her arousal seeping through her loose boxers. "'s wet f'me. wanna cum like this? or wanna cum on my fingers?"

your question fogs her brain further. when she flickers her eyes up to yours, you spot that you can barely see the forest-y green of her eyes from how blown out her pupils are, her gaze hazy beneath yours. she just moans when your press your fingers feathery light touch becomes harder. "moanin' isn't an answer." you tease, chuckling when ellie's eyes roll back and her head rolls off from your forehead to fall to rest on your shoulder.

"fingers." she mutters. and you hum, you would've liked a please to follow suit, but you'll let it slide, this time. a throaty whine erupts from ellie when her fingers disconnect from her needy clit, using the once busy hand to push at her hip, wanting her to push herself up from off your shoulder. and when she does you fingers find their way back to the soft cotton of her sleeping shirt, eyeing it as you toy with the hem, biting your bottom lip. looking up through your lashes to eyes eager gaze. "i want this off, first. want to see you." upon your request, ellie is swiftly hooking her fingers under the hem of the shirt to yank it over her head.

the hasty action causes her hair to stick out, it's cute, and you catch yourself chuckling to yourself as you bring your hands up to smooth over her hair. allowing your hands to follow the natural rhythm of her body, hands grazing down her face, down her jaw and neck, nimble fingers ghosting over collarbones, and following the perk of her tits. index fingers smoothing over her pebbled nipples before your hands all together rest below her tits and gently grope at them. "'s pretty." you admire.

flicking your gaze up to the woman seated in your lap, your chest can't help but puff up with love for her. and twisted enough, with pride that you're the one to turn her into a flushed mess, and that it's all only for your eyes. "d'you know how pretty you are?"

"you tell me all the time." she huffs. narrowing your eyes when ellie rolls, so you pinch her nipple, not acknowledging the small jump from her. you don't know whether she rolled her eyes from the fact that you tell her the compliment frequently (guilty as charged) or that she doesn't doesn't fully believe your words when you say it.

"and i mean it." your tone hard. leaning down to press a kiss to her sternum, ghosting you lips over her tits. "so fuckin' pretty." you mumble, not to her, but to yourself. ellie's hands fling to brace herself on your shoulders when you wrap your mouth around her perky nipple. your unoccupied hand sliding down her torso, hooking a finger into the band of her boxers, and thoughts of snapping the band against her skin flashes through your mind, but you just plunge your hands inside her boxers. fingers finding her clit once more, giving it a few needing strokes before dipping your fingers past her dripping folds. you push her straight away when you sink two fingers into her pulsing sopping heat, but she takes it as low moans escape her mouth.

despite your hand being stuffed within her boxers the lewd squelching of her cunt isn't muffled. letting up off her tit with a pop, you rest your chin against her sternum, peering up at ellie's fucked out expression, her eyes scrunched shut, and sobs of pleasure working you up further. you want this for her, you want her to reach her glorious peak more than anything at this moment. "takin' my fingers s'well, baby." you praise. and you show some love to her neglected, achy clit when your thumb begins to work steady circles on the bud.

"please—" she cries, hips bucking up into your hand while you work her on your fingers.

"are you close?" you know the answer to your question. her cunt is clenching around your fingers, and her sweet arousal dribbles down your wrist. but you just want to hear the neediness, the desperation in her voice.

ellie sobs further, her body jerking slightly, the grip she has on your shoulders tightening, sinking her nails into the clothed muscles to stabilize herself. "needa cum," her voice waivers, eyes snapping open when she feels your warm tongue swirling around your nipple. "please."

you think you could cum just from the sight alone of ellie above you, eyes drooping, lips swollen from kisses and tugs, rosy hue to her freckled cheeks. "cum f'me, you deserve it. deserve it so bad, ellie."

her climax crashes over like ocean waves against the heights of a cliff. her body shuttering, slumping into your arms, her cheek falling against your shoulder once more as your work her through her orgasm, mustering up enough energy to place light kisses on your neck. "there you go. did so good, jus' needed to get fucked to get yourself tired enough?"

[pretend-i-don-t-exist]

sy trying to create a pidw au would be so funny

i feel like he'd actually commit to it to spite airplane. at first, it garnered attention bc it was from the peerless cucumber, notorious critic and biggest pidw hater, so ofc they're all curious how pidw would look like in his eyes. it was surprisingly (well not really, considering the tens of paragraphs peerless cucumber wrote during his rants, all of which have immaculate grammar and spelling— bc ofc he can't let anyone find something to nitpick on his review so they're forced to see the point!) well-written and definitely more plot-focused.

majority of the readers disappeared after the first few chapters, mainly because of the lack of smutty scenes, but those that do remain are very engaged. one of them is airplane's burner account, when he needs to separate himself from his airplane persona. he's really, really curious as to what his hater is doing to his work.

he... he actually likes it. it's not really the novel he envisioned when he was first working on pidw, nor does it contain all the elements of his original draft, but it was good. he likes it a lot better than what pidw turned out to be.

airplane spent so much time contemplating and considering before finally saying fuck it, and dms peerless cucumber to see if he can work as a co-author with him and they can rewrite pidw together. he even sends parts of the original draft (what was left of it, anyway) as incentive!

it takes a long week before even peerless cucumber replies, and by then he has written a novella detailing how much better the original draft was and him screaming very informally at why airplane had to cast it aside.

lol i need money bro im broke af and porn sells, airplane answers.

it takes another week before peerless cucumber finally answers. then live with me, his message reads. no rent. i'll pay for whatever food you want. and whatever bills you have. just write a good fucking novel, i swear to god.

airplane thinks it's a joke, until he receives the address. an actual penthouse. in the richest streets of guangzhou. there is also a request to meet up (seeing as they don't actually know each other, and sy's brothers are very intent on not getting him murdered in his sleep) and airplane, after much, much thinking, accepts.

airplane does not really know what to feel when he finally meets and talks to shen yuan— pampered third son of a very wealthy family, with two protective older brothers and an even more protective little sister— and sy is just. well. he's exactly airplane's type. the beautiful, ice prince who apparently has only shown this much emotion around airplane. sy's meimei had told him cheerfully and then threatened to gut him if he so much as steps a foot out of line. airplane is starting to feel like he's just met a mafia family.

shen yuan's family aside, airplane is actually living his best life. he no longer has to worry about money. he lives in a luxurious (gods he has never seen such a large bedroom before wtf) penthouse without needing to pay rent (!!!) and utilities (!!!) and even food (!!!). he can write as much as he wants. this must be what artists felt like when they're taken care of noble families in exchange for their art.

he does... well. he and peerless cucumber are friends now. they work on the rewrite together. airplane keeps finding out many things, like how shen yuan likes his tea with a lot of honey, dislikes milk chocolate, and prefers drawing over writing. he also runs hot during the night, when he sleeps.

how does airplane know that? well. bros gotta do what bros gotta do. it's a good thing they both like to cuddle.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x wife!reader

Summary: A dangerous mission puts James's life at risk. You're consumed by worry and fear as you wait for news of what happened to your husband.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: reader and James have a newborn baby (named Harry), mentions of death, murder, blood, violence,

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

The clock reads midnight and still no one has heard from any of them.

You're sitting on the couch, your head in your hands. Lily crouches by your legs, her delicate hands resting on your knee as she rubs soothing circles around them, attempting to match your breathing so she can help you.

Naturally, you have taken this the hardest. 

"They'll be alright," Lily whispers as if she can promise you that all will be okay, but her voice is distant.

The only person you can hear is him. His voice rings in your mind, the way he sounds when he says your name, when he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

You can feel his hand in yours, the way his lips brushed your cheek, and the only thing you imagine when you look up is the front door opening wide and seeing him walk in, with only a few superficial scratches. 

But the door doesn't move and instead, the room is silent. 

It's been hours. It was supposed to be quick. That's what James had said when he kissed your head and said you he loved you. He hadn't even said goodbye to the baby.

"It's an easy mission, nothing dangerous—they're probably lost, you know how Sirius is," Marlene says from her side of the room as if that makes any of this better. 

"You don't know that," you snap and stand up, pacing the room. You look at your friends, their solemn faces only making this worse. You can't stand their sadness, or even worse their pity. "Just—leave me alone—" your voice comes out hoarse, running up the creaky wooden stairs of you and James's little home in Godric's Hollow.

You hold your breath, turning the corner into the nursery where baby Harry should be sleeping soundly; unaware that his father isn't home. 

It's as it should be, you reminded yourself, gently creeping inside. He is just a baby. He shouldn't worry. You'll make sure he never had to worry. You lean over the crib, picking your son up into your arms. He's all bundled up so the movement doesn't wake him. 

"Oh, James," you mutter, feeling the warm tears fall but you hold them in for Harry's sake. This wasn't normal. Something felt wrong. "Where are you?" you ask into the darkness of the room, a line of moonlight from outside gently shines onto Harry's sleeping face.

You've always found it fascinating how much he can look like his father at only one years old and you wonder if that will carry on into his childhood. 

"He looks like a wrinkled pickle," James had said the day of Harry's birth, his arm wrapped around you as you leaned your sweaty head on his bicep, breathing deeply from exhaustion. Your husband had somehow managed to squeeze himself onto the small hospital cot, his hip pressed against yours as he glanced down at the infant pressed against your bare chest. "Ugly little pickle," he muttered, the lovesick smile on his face betraying his true opinion. 

"James," you'd scolded weakly. You're much too exhausted to look up as you keep your baby pressed against your bare breasts, calming him with your breathing.   

"You're beautiful, my love," James said, kissing your hairline. "You did so well. So brave and strong."

You laughed, his voice soothing you. 

"I just know our little pickle is gonna grow up just as handsome as his dad, ain't that right, bud?" James had teased, talking to the infant as if he could hear him. You rolled your eyes, simply letting the warmth of the two boys you loved the most lull you to sleep. 

Harry suddenly begins to stir, his little eyes blinking open and you instantly rock him. "Shh, baby, go back to sleep," you whisper, feeling horrible for waking him up. 

Harry doesn't cry. He looks at you in the darkness. He blinks a few times and then as if on cue, begins to wail. It's as if he can sense your sadness and all he can do with the emotion is cry. You feel horrible, sliding against the crib as you sit up, holding Harry up, as you rock him a little harder. 

"Oh, please, honey," you plead, holding him against your knees as you touch the little tufts of curly hair on his little forehead. You hope none of your friends hear him and give them a reason to check on you. "Please, my lovely, sleep. It's okay. Daddy will be home soon, okay?" 

You say it mostly to calm yourself down, knowing that it will in turn calm your son. You breathe, holding in more tears as you think of James. Where is he? You press a kiss on Harry's head once his cries have ceased.

You aren't sure how much time has passed as you sit on the floor, your eyes tired from crying as your baby sleeps soundly in your arms. The sounds of your friends have drowned into the background. You're having the most horrible dream as you drift to sleep, having cried exhaustion into your body. 

James is gone. He's gone and you can't reach him. 

You shift, your body unconsciously keeping Harry in your arms as your mind plagues you with horrible images. You can almost feel James's palm on your hand, his breath on your skin as he calls your name. 

But he's gone. He's dead.

"My darling," his voice rings in your ears, hoarse and broken. "Wake up." James's calloused fingers touch your cheek, a wetness you don't recognize seeping into your skin and your eyes widen. You're met with James's piercing brown eyes and he forces a strained smile. 

"Hi," he whispers.

Without thinking, you sit up through your haze and almost let Harry slip from your arms. Luckily, James scoots closer, trapping you in between his legs as he holds Harry to his chest, supporting your arms too. Harry wakes up again, his sleep schedule severely messed up as he begins to cry again and your heart breaks. 

"Hi pickle," James whispers, careful only to touch the outside of Harry's blanket with his bloodied hands. You blink, staring at the awful state your husband is in, which even in the moonlight you can tell he's covered in ash and blood, his face littered insuperficial cuts and bruises— still, he's alive. 

"James—" you whimper, touching his cheek gently. "What happened? Where were you? I was worried sick—" You squirm out of his legs and stand, taking Harry from him as you look for your son's favorite pacifier.

Once you've found it, you place it in Harry's mouth and set him back in his crib to fall asleep. You turn, grabbing your wand, and enchanting his crib mobile. Harry seems calmer now and you take James's wrist gently, pulling him out into the hallway. 

You'd already disturbed your poor baby enough.

After closing the nursery door, you turn the light on, placing your wand in the back pocket of your jeans as you look him over. His shirt is bloodied and there's a gash, but the wound has been healed. "Remus healed me. We were ambushed—we barely got away and I- they had to heal me before we came home. I wouldn't let him take me home to you in the state I was in," James says. 

Tears brim in your eyes. 

"But, I'm okay now," he says and lifts his hand as if he wants to hold your cheek but he doesn't since there is still dried blood on his hands. Instead, he smiles at you. "I'm sorry you were so worried. Lily told me you were inconsolable."

You scoff, sniffling as you wrap your arms around his chest. You inhale his scent, holding in more sobs as relief overtakes you. "Of course I was worried, you fool," you pause and sniffle, "I was scared you'd never come home."

James wraps his arms around you. "I will always come home to you and Harry. Always, okay?" 

You nod, resting your ear against your chest as you hold him. He sighs and rests his chin on your head, rubbing your back. "I'm gonna take a shower and you should go to bed, I'll tell you everything in the morning, okay?" 

You shake your head, holding him tighter. You just want to be close to him. You don't want to let him out of your sight.

James can tell and he kisses your head. "Okay, okay, my love. I'm not going anywhere," he says in a whisper and he sighs, "I never want to be away from you again."

[chenlezip]

cute tennis player ♡

SUMMARY : every time you pass by the tennis court, one of the players in there named mark lee always caught your attention.

A/N : i am currently going crazy over these photos of mark and i had to write something for it.. this man.. i need him biblically. enjoy this little drabble :3 (not proof read!!)

taglist : @injvns @polarisjisung @mejaemin @ayukas @hyckvr @yizhrt @blondemrk 

mark lee. the boy you always admired from afar as he practiced with his friends playing tennis. his form, his cute glasses falling down the rim of his nose as he focused on the game - you couldn’t help but be captivated every time you walked past the tennis court to get to your classes or just in general. he had you in a trance. you’ve never spoken before, you’re way too shy to go up to him.

one day as you're sat on the bench opposite the court, you noticed someone standing in front of you. you look up from your book, taking an earphone out but who stood before you shocked you a little. mark. you gasp, "oh- hi." you squeak out. the male just smiled and chuckled at your quiet greeting, "hi.. i've seen you come around often, i thought i should take my chance to speak to you plus.. haechan has been bothering me about it because i've been a bit indecisive on it."

"is the seat taken?" he added, you look beside you and blush, quickly moving your belonings to the other side of you, "no- um, you can sit down if you'd like." he took the seat and placed his racket down leaning it against the bench. "so, what's your name?"

and from that day, you and mark both grew closer, sharing your interests and realising you both have quite a lot in common to your surprise. he invited you to watch him play tennis with his friends, noticing how competitive they all are which made you chuckle to yourself. you're kind of glad that he made the first move to talk to you because if he didn't.. you wouldn't be this close to watching the boy you admired the most.

[polarisbibliotheque]

I wanted to talk a bit more about my original stories this year and, maybe, who knows, finish one or two - 'cause I always wanted to do that T-T

This post reminded me of one of the stories I had I liked most and I only wrote a few couple of lost scenes here and there (plot down the cut!)

But it's called "Tea House" so far and, basically: super tall weird guy with long black hair down to his waist owns a Tea House with books and whimsical treats like the ones in the pic which he prepares every single day and as customers go in, they don't order anything because he knows what they need.

Guy has a tiny pet owl who wears huge glasses and scolds him all day 'cause he is aloof and slow and chill and she "has to keep things in order", but he's the only one who can hear the owl. He also has tons of books which anyone can read - but no one can touch the tea kettles and tea brews kept in a special place.

People aren't really sure what he is, but some think he is an entity of some sort. He seems to be completely unfazed by the world and weirdly healing to every and any ailments his clients seem to have - the power of TEA.

Things turn a little more strange one day when a woman goes in and can see other customers - from eras different from her own - and she can hear the guy's owl speaking which freaks the poor pet out. When checking on her to divine which tea she needs, the guy freezes with fear: her eyes have a dying universe in them, with void taking over.

I'm still working on it and, to be honest, I stopped writing completely. But it's close to my heart. I might pick it up someday, just because I like writing disconnected entities learning how to be human and humans who have forgotten how to feel re-learning to do that as well.

And writing this right now kinda sounds like the plot of a Ghibli movie

[biblicallyaccuratemeat]

A Firm Hand

MDNI!!!

A/N: I posted this on ao3 a little bit ago, so I figure why not post it here too! Beta read by @teaflavoredwitch Bucky Barnes x female reader, past Steve Rogers x reader implied/referenced, cheating, alcohol, kind of dub con if you squint, p in v sex, dom!Bucky, protective Bucky, dirty talk, kitchen sex, spanking, fingering, drunk sex, size kink, friends to lovers, angst and porn, shamelessly self-indulgent

Word Count: 5.3k

Steve Rogers is a jackass.

Captain fucking America, mister cherry pie and morals, was a self-righteous prick. Bucky had never felt more pissed off at Steve in his one hundred plus years of living than he does right now. You curled up in his bed, bawling your eyes out and practically chugging some cheap magnum bottle of whiskey. 

Steve, who apparently didn’t believe in too much of a good thing, when he decided to stick his patriotic dick in Sharon Carter of all people. Of course, you found out. Steve was a terrible liar despite having the balls to actually cheat on you. You don’t know why you immediately go to Bucky, but you do. In the year you’ve been dating Steve, you became rapidly closer with the former Winter Soldier. Perhaps it was the forced proximity, or maybe you were just kindred spirits.

Bucky, of course, falls for you. Hard and fast like an idiot. Forced to pine after his best friend’s girl as if his life wasn’t already a fucking sob story. Always the dutiful friend, listening to you vent about the pitfalls of your relationship with Steve and trying to offer sound advice. Bucky learns to tame the green eyed monster inside him, finding contentment as your friend and confidant. 

When you show up on his doorstep at eight o’clock on a Saturday night, he knows Steve fucked up. He knows it without you even having to say a word, because he knew this would happen. He knew, on some level, that Steve didn’t deserve you. Not that Bucky deserved you either, god knows he was even less deserving. But you went to him, so that has to mean something, right?

The intensifying of your sobs pull Bucky out of his reverie, head snapping in your direction again. Some commercial blares on his shitty little TV in the corner of his bedroom, Even the Nights Are Better playing in the background on some allergy medicine ad. 

“T-this was our song!” You wail, burying your face in a pillow as your body shudders with the force of your sobs. The bottle of whiskey remains clutched in your hand. If it weren’t for your inconsolable state, Bucky might’ve been impressed and slightly turned on at the way you chug the whiskey. A woman after his own heart.

Bucky grimaces, perched next to you, stock still, “Okay, dollface, I think that’s enough whiskey.”

He feels awkward and stilted, like his skin is on too fucking tight and the room is too warm. He feels way too self-aware, he’s tuned in to every little sniffle and hiccup.

Seriously, fuck Steve for this. Not only for breaking your heart, but also creating the perfect storm. You, vulnerable and drunk in his fucking bed of all places. A wet dream come to life, if he’s being honest.

He needs to get the whiskey from you. He practically has to pry it out of your hands, amber liquid sloshing inside the nearly empty bottle. Fuck. He should have cut you off way earlier. He grabs the remote, clicking the mute button, “Honey, let’s take some deep breaths, yeah?”

Bucky tries to smile reassuringly but it’s tight and stretches over his teeth in a weird way that makes him look more machine than man. You peer over the edge of the pillow smushed against your face, doe eyes blinking owlishly at him, “Deep breaths?” You echo, incredulously, “You want me to take deep breaths when I walk in on my boyfriend tongue deep in that blonde bitch? Are you fucking for real, Bucky?”

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes rapidly, like a fish out of water. He sure fucking feels like one, incredibly out of his depths. He’s not equipped for this, a tornado of hormones and heartbreak. His stupid silence somehow seems to agitate you even further, angelic features twisting and morphing through every stage of grief in a matter of seconds.

Your anguish quickly gives way to fury, chucking the pillow across the room, “Has he always been like this? Huh?” 

Bucky blinks taken aback, “What? Steve?” He sighs, running a hand through shortly cropped hair, “No, doll, he hasn’t always been like this. I’ve known Steve since we were kids, and he’s never been a saint but he’s not usually an inconsiderate, lying, cheating asshole either.” Bucky’s voice is hard and contemptuous.

Bucky takes your dainty hand in his, squeezing reassuringly, “Hating Steve isn’t going to make this better. It’s not going to erase the pain he caused,” He pauses, pursing his lips as he tries to find the right words, “You gotta let yourself feel this, dollface. Feel the anger, feel the hurt, the betrayal. Don’t suppress it, because that’s just gonna make it fester.”

His jaw clenches, teeth grinding together. Bucky silently attempts to work through his own feelings on the matter. On one hand, his never wavering loyalty to Steve, his brother in arms and every sense of the word. On the other hand is you. Heartbroken, far too lovely for his comfort and the odd, delicate bond between you two. Bucky swallows, his mouth filled with a metallic taste as he fights down the ever growing urge to hunt Steve down and beat him within an inch of his life. 

He realizes you’re staring at him, gaze hard, “Why didn’t you warn me?” You ask in a quiet, hollow tone that makes Bucky feel like his heart is going to shrivel up in his chest.

Running a hand down his face, Bucky huffs, “Warn you?” He echoes, “Honey, I… I didn’t know.” He implores, clenching his fists in his lap, “I swear to God, if I had known he was being such a fucking prick, I would’ve put a stop to it, I would’ve beaten the information out of him myself.”

“You didn’t know?!” You throw your hands up in the air, gesturing wildly, “You didn’t have a single fucking inkling? I don’t believe that for a second, Bucky,” You hiss, movements jerky and agitated as you tousle your hair, “You didn’t think to say, “Hey doll,”” You begin to mimic Bucky’s voice, “‘You’re about to date the goddamn devil!’”

Holding his hands up in a placating gesture, Bucky scoots back. Your accusation stings, hitting a nerve he hadn’t known was exposed, “Hey, hold on just a damn minute,” He says, his voice rising in defense, “I’m not fucking psychic, dollface. I knew Steve could be an inconsiderate ass sometimes, but I didn’t know he was straight up cheating on you.”

Bucky scoffs, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through his veins, “I’m not going to apologize for not knowing what my so-called best friend was up to behind your back. That’s not fucking fair.”

His gaze softens slightly, his voice lowering to a more conciliatory tone, “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs earlier. I’m sorry you got hurt. But don’t think for a second that I would’ve ever encouraged you to be with someone who would treat you like this. You mean too damn much to me for that.”

You’re still pissed, of course. Feeling self-destructive, though Bucky’s heartfelt declaration hits deep. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, a feral kind of rage filling you, “Oh yeah? Well… you’re… You’re an ass!” You shout, a half-hearted insult. You weren’t really trying, you just wanted to burn bridges. You push yourself out of the bed, stomping out of the room. Slamming the door for good measure, the sound echoing through the apartment like a gunshot. Storming into the kitchen, you begin digging through Bucky’s sparse cabinets for more liquor.

Bucky stared after you, stunned and hurt by your somewhat childish outburst. Your accusations burned like salt in a fresh wound. He stood there for a moment, anger and confusion warring within him. Then, with a fierce scowl, he stalked after you, his long strides quickly closing the distance between his bedroom and the kitchen.

The floorboards creak under his heavy footsteps as he follows the path down the hallway. When he reaches the kitchen, he grabs the doorframe, leaning in. “Hey, wait a fucking minute.” He all but growls, his voice a deep, dangerous rumble. “I know you’re hurting, but you don’t get to just accuse me of being an ass and then stomp away like a fucking toddler.”

He steps further into the kitchen, a breath away from crowding you against the counter, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Steve being a prick, but I won’t accept you throwing blame at me when I'm trying my goddamn hardest to be here for you!”

Bucky leans back against the counter, scoffing, “We both know you’re better than this, sweetheart. Don’t let Steve’s mistakes make you forget that. I’m not the enemy.”

You snatch a bottle of vodka out of the cabinet, there’s no more than a few sips left. You down it in one go, sighing tiredly, “I don’t need you to be here for me. I don’t need you to fix me, Bucky. I’m not some little dolly for you to glue back together. You don’t need to make your fucking amends with me.”

Bucky’s expression hardens, snatching the bottle from your hands, “Watch your fucking tone,” He whispers, cornering you against the counter. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, you see it. The Winter Soldier lurking in the back of his psyche. It sends a perverse thrill down your spine.

“I’m not trying to fix you. You’re not some damn doll, I know that. I’ve always known that.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, “I’m here as your friend, to listen, to support you. But I won’t allow you to take your anger out on me, honey.”

You’ve never been good at knowing when to quit, it’s never been your strong suit. Now is not an exception, you double down on your brattiness.  

“Don’t tell me to watch my fucking tone, I’m not a child.” You hiss, scowling up at him. He towers over you, all muscle and man. Damn him for being so fucking tall, built like a skyscraper. You damn near have to be on your tiptoes at this point, it’s ridiculous. 

He grasps your chin hard, cheeks smushing up and lips forced into a pout, “Watch it, little girl,” He murmurs lowly, licking his lips, “You can be mad. You can scream and shout and curse until you’re blue in the face. But you don’t get to talk to me like that.”

Those sapphire eyes flashed with a mixture of anger, frustration, and a hint of something else, something that made your insides feel molten and heady.

“I’ve taken a lot of shit for the people I love. I’ve been beaten, tortured, and turned into a fucking weapon. But damn if I’m going to stand here and take your anger when all I’m trying to do is be here for you.” Slowly, deliberately, he leans in closer until his breath is hot against your pursed lips, “I know you’re hurting. I know you’re angry. But I won’t let you push me away, dollface. I won’t let you be self-destructive.” His voice drops to a fervent whisper, “You fucking try me, sweetheart. I’ve dealt with terrorist threats and mad titans. Fuck, I’ve been a terrorist. You think a little thing like you is going to scare me off?”

Bucky’s hand snakes around to the back of your neck. You whirl around, the world spinning, and he pushes you face first into the hardwood. You all but shriek in surprise, eyes comically wide. Your left cheek squished on the cool flooring, shoulders pinned down. Your knees prop your ass up in the air, curving your spine into a sharp arch. He has you right where he wants you, submissively positioned. An offering, your perky backside up in the air invitingly. Your body betrays you, a fucking shiver of pleasure wracking through you. You can feel your cunt leaking eagerly at Bucky’s manhandling. 

You wonder if he realizes the effect this is having on you. All thoughts of Steve and his betrayal fly from your mind as your pussy throbs in time with your rapid heartbeat. Shame and arousal burn your cheeks, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away your body’s traitorous reaction. 

This is Bucky. This is fucking Bucky. Steve’s best friend, your weird friend-ish acquaintance. You know him because of Steve. This is a bad idea, horrible. You need to put a stop to this immediately before you actually let him have his way with you on the kitchen floor. Because you’re heartbroken, you’re pissed, and you’re far wetter than you’ve been in months. You’re too vulnerable and fucked up, not to mention drunk to make a sound decision right now. And you know, you fucking know if Bucky asked to rail you within an inch of your life… You’d say yes.

So, “Bucky, uh,” You begin to protest meekly, all the fire and spit on your tongue moments ago evaporating.

The hand that is now pressing down in the middle of your back and pinning your sternum to the ground increases in pressure fractionally. A silent warning of the consequences of pushing back even further.

The words die on your tongue, you focus your gaze on a piece of lint by your face and huff. 

But then, slowly, deliberately he brings his hand down on your upturned ass. Delivering a sharp smack that echoes through the room. A surprised shriek of indignation rips from your throat, equal parts horrified and aroused. The stinging pain radiates across your tender flesh, a stark contrast to the coolness of the floor beneath you. “What in the fuck are you doing?” You demand angrily, scowl deepening.

“Keep testing me, honey, and I’ll show you exactly what happens to bratty little girls who don’t listen,” Bucky punctuates his words with another sharp smack to your ass, watching as the flesh and fat jiggle and redden beneath his organic palm.

He drapes his muscular torso across your back, leaning over your bent form. His breath is hot against your ear, his body a heavy, unyielding weight pressing down on you. It’s a comforting contrast from the rough treatment your butt is receiving, like a warm weighted blanket. 

Despite your best efforts to stay quiet, a tiny breathless noise escapes your throat. Halfway between a moan and a squeak, the flush staining your cheeks darkens further. You bite your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, simultaneously mortified and turned on.

Momentarily caught off guard, the super soldier freezes, his vibranium hand resting on the curve of your hip. A look of shock and disbelief crosses his handsome features. He had expected anger, perhaps even more fighting back, but never in a million years did he think you would react so unabashedly with desire.

For a moment, Bucky simply stares down at you, taking in the pretty flush of your cheeks, the way your lips parted around that sinful little noise. His cock, hard and heavy, strains through his jeans and presses into the curve of your ass. That all-consuming hunger that HYDRA tortured out of his system returns with a fucking vengeance. His blood sings in his veins at your little noises and rushes to his dick. 

A low, strangled groan escapes his throat as Bucky tries desperately to grasp at the last vestiges of self-control. His hand digs into the fat of your hip, squeezing and kneading almost unconsciously, “Fuck, honey…” He murmurs, his tone ragged with the overwhelming heat consuming you both, “Are you… are you getting off on this?”

Bucky moves impossibly closer, chapped lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “‘Cause if you are, honey… I’ll fucking wreck you and I won’t be held responsible for it.”

“Shut up,” You whine weakly, your shame and arousal fighting for dominance. Despite your half-hearted protest, you arch your spine deeper. You’re soaked, you know it. Embarrassingly soaked, probably through your fucking sweatpants at this point. Your cunt aches, feeling too empty. Bucky’s dark promise of wrecking you? Fuck if it doesn’t make you clench around nothing, needy and debauched. He’s barely touched you and you’re sure if he so much as brushes past your clit, you’ll cum harder than you ever have in your life.

Bucky’s eyes darken with lust as you arch your back, presenting your ass to him like a cat in heat. A low, approving growl rumbles deep in his throat. The hand on your hip slides back to palm the globe of your ass, sinking into the fatty flesh. You hope it bruises, god you want him to mark you. You want that vibranium arm to rip you into pretty little chunks and remake you into something new. Something Steve’s never touched, never kissed, never held.

“Shut up? Honey, the way you’re acting, you don’t want me to shut up,” He taunts, his voice a deep, seductive murmur.

That rips a pathetic whimper from your throat, eyes fluttering shut, “I’m too drunk for this.”

Bucky hums, “Yeah? You’re a big girl, you know how to say stop.”

You shudder, all but melting beneath him, “I’m too sad for this.”

Smack!

This time Bucky’s metal arm meets your ass cheek, you jolt, gasping. You’re panting openly against the hardwood, eyes screwed shut and blushing like a virgin. The intoxicating mixture of stinging pain and molten pleasure are far more powerful than the whiskey in your belly.

The former Winter Soldier all but rips your sweatpants down, bunching them around your knees. The cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shudder, a perverse shiver racing down your spine. The rough, calloused pads of Bucky’s fingers dig into the tender flesh of your ass cheek, kneading and squeezing the malleable muscle possessively, “Fuck, baby, look at this ass… you’re fucking perfect,” He groans approvingly, hips rocking forward to grind his clothed erection against you, “Steve was a goddamn fool to ever even look at another woman.”

Without warning, he brings down his palm hard against your bare ass, the sharp crack of skin against skin filling the otherwise silent apartment. The biting ache blossoms across your nerves, quickly followed by a rush of heat and traitorous surge of arousal, “Maybe this is what you need, honey. You need to be manhandled, huh? I gotta slap that bratty attitude of yours outta your ass?” Bucky coos mockingly, dragging his blunt nails down the rapidly reddening skin.

You breathe shallowly, fuck it feels like you’re barely breathing as is. This is a side of Bucky you’d never dreamt of seeing, not even in your wildest dreams. He was always so stoic, quiet. It was like you were friends with a brick wall that used to be a sleeper agent. But this? Domineering, taunting, merciless Bucky? You were fucking drenched.

You hum in agreement, wiggling your ass back, too far gone now. Any sense of decorum or boundaries flies out of your little bird brain. All you know is Bucky’s punishing hand and his rock hard dick pressing against you.

He shifts, maneuvering your wrists to hold them firmly over your head with one large hand. He brings the other down on your backside in a series of sharp, biting slaps. A red handprint blooms across your skin, a brand. The pain gives way to a dizzying liquid heat that has you squirming and whining under him.

“Fuck, listen to you… making all those pretty little noises for me,” He pants, hips grinding slowly against the curve of your butt. Bucky was throbbing in his pants, achingly hard and straining angrily in the confines of his jeans, “Keep making those noises and I’ll bust in my fucking pants, honey.”

You can feel it now, how soaked you are. The cotton gusset of your panties clings to your puffy lips like a second skin. The evidence of your arousal is impossible to miss, the dark spot growing rapidly with each slap and taunting murmur. You rub your thighs together needfully, desperate for some kind of relief. Bucky’s gaze narrows in on your needy display, grinning wolfishly, “Fuck, honey, you’re absolutely soaked through,” His lips brush against your ear as he speaks, rolling his hips teasingly into your backside, “Is this what you need, doll? To be put in your place, spanked until you’re a needy, desperate little thing?”

Holding your wrists firmly above your head, his vibranium hand slides around your hip, fingertips brushing teasingly along the sticky fabric of your underwear. The material clings to your swollen, aching folds. 

“You leaking just for me, honey?” Bucky murmurs, nipping at your ear. He brushes the edge of his nail across the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. It’s so light that you almost don’t feel it, but you do and you sob in relief at the slightest touch. Your legs tremble, threatening to give out under you.

Bucky continues his maddeningly light caresses, “So fucking wet and ready for me…”

He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, cool vibranium meeting feverish, swollen flesh. It swells and throbs under his ministrations. His fingers continue their unhurried exploration of your pussy, a single digit circling your entrance. You feel it push in slowly, sinking in one knuckle at a time. Your pussy flutters and clenches around the invading pressure, eager to be filled.

“This is what you needed all along, isn’t it honey? To be touched like this, to have someone take control and make this needy cunt drip?” He slides a second finger knuckle-deep into your dripping hole, pumping them in and out of your clinging heat as his other hand delivers harsh, biting strikes to your backside, “That’s it, honey, fucking take it.”

The thought of Steve’s vanilla, lackluster lovemaking paled in comparison to the passionate, almost feral way Bucky was claiming your body now. And his dick wasn’t even out yet. He could feel every inch of your silken skin trembling and quaking with need, your breathy cries and whimpering music to his ears. The tender, almost gentlemanly approach Steve usually had taken with you had left you wanting, craving something far more intense and fulfilling.

Bucky eases his fingers out and peels your panties from your sticky cunt, shucking the fabric to bunch it around your knees with your sweatpants. He reaches out once more, his calloused palm cupping the warm, plush flesh of your ass. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin, could feel the way your muscles clenched and trembled beneath his touch. His fingers sank into the giving flesh, squeezing. 

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I think I’ll die,” You whisper, needy with shame burning your cheeks. And in that moment, it may as well have been true. To drive the point home, you wriggle your ass back against his groin, a clear invitation.

Bucky groaned, the sound torn from deep in his chest. His cock throbs and jumps at your needy words, desperate to be balls deep in your tight cunt. Faintly, he realizes he should hesitate, take a moment to think this through. But the way you presented yourself so wantonly to him made every logical thought fly out the window. He couldn’t resist, not you, not like this.

His hands flew to his belt, working it open with shaking hands. He quickly shoved his boxers and jeans down his thighs, freeing his aching cock. It sprang up, long, thick, and flushed a deep, angry red. The swollen head was leaking pre-cum, a bead of moisture rolling down the shaft. He wrapped a hand around it, stroking himself a few times, before shifting closer to you. Bucky sweeps the tip of his cock through your folds, from hole to clit, coating himself in your sticky slickness. 

You gape at his dick, eyes wide as you peer over your shoulder. He’s fucking huge, because of course he is. Thick and girthy, this is going to hurt, you realize. And though that should deter you, or at the very least make you anxious, it only makes you wetter.

“Fuck,” You whisper, struggling to form a coherent thought, “You’re fucking huge. That’s… that can’t fit. It’s physically impossible.”

The bastard smirks, rubbing the small of your back, “Oh, it’ll fit, honey. I’ll make sure of that.”

You already feel your inner muscles tensing up, trying to force out something that isn’t even breaching you yet. A high-pitched keening noise rips from your throat as the bulbous tip sinks into your wet heat.

Bucky shudders as he feels your tight little cunt clenching and fluttering around just the swollen head of his cock. Fuck, you were so goddamn small, so fucking tight. He could feel every inch of your silky walls squeezing him, trying to push his thick tip out of your needy hole. It took every ounce of control not to just slam forward and bury himself to the hilt in your scorching heat.

He grit his teeth, his breath coming out in a low growl as he forced himself to hold still, to wait for your okay before he fucked into you. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fought for some semblance of restraint. Where was all that goddamn self-discipline that HYDRA beat into him? His dick was barely inside you and he was already a slave to your nubile body. 

He rocked his hips slightly, just barely, letting you feel the thick, spongy head of his cock kiss your entrance with each shallow thrust. “Tell me to move, honey.” Bucky pants, sounding utterly wrecked, “Let me move.”

All you can offer is a small, pathetic whine in response. 

That’s all the confirmation Bucky needs. He starts to move then, his hips rocking in shallow little thrusts as he eases inch after inch of his monstrous dick inside you. His grip tightens on your hips, digging into the plush flesh of your ass as he keeps you in place for each teasing thrust of his cock.

“God, honey, I’m gonna fuck this needy hole just like you want,” He growls, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort of holding back, “Gonna rub this thick fucking tip all over this slutty pussy until you’re dripping and begging for my cock. Fuck… you’re so goddamn tight. Squeezing my cock so fucking hard.”

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this,” You gasp, screwing your eyes shut against the onslaught of sensations. You’re already feeling overstimulated, too warm and too full. Part of you screams to crawl away from the excruciating sensation of being impaled on such a thick cock. You try your best to breathe through it, willing your body to relax. Your cunt weeps, rivulets of slick dripping down and around Bucky’s dick. You feel the little droplets running down your thighs, mixing with your sweat.

Bucky hisses through clenched teeth as he feels your arousal dripping obscenely down his length, your thighs trembling. He loops an arm around your hips, holding you up as he watches the way his dick is swallowed up by your tight hole. He could see you struggling, hear the conflict in your whimper, the way you whispered this was wrong even as your body screamed for his touch. He knew he should listen to the voice in both your heads telling him to stop, to pull away before they crossed a line from which there could be no return… but fuck, he was so goddamn close to the edge already.

His hips rocked faster, fucking his cock in and out of your clutching heat with rough, rapid thrusts. A wet, obscene symphony of squelching and skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with his labored breathing and low, strained grunts of pleasure.

“We… fuck.. We shouldn’t…” He repeated your words dumbly, but even as he said it, his cock kept moving. You could feel the tip kissing your cervix with each throbbing, leaking thrust. “But fuck, honey, you feel too good… too goddamn good. We can’t stop now,” Bucky leans forward, pressing his chest against your back, his lips brushing down the side of your neck, “Fuck, gonna make this pretty cunt mine. Fill it up real good, honey.”

“Oh, god,” You gasp, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you at his words. Your toes curl, fingernails scraping across the floor, “I want that, please. Wreck me.”

The desperate, pleading tone of your voice shatters the remnants of Bucky’s already frayed control. His eyes roll back at your words, groaning. He feels your velvet walls clench and ripple around his throbbing dick, grasping him like a hot fist. Without warning, his hand slides from your hip to your dripping sex, rough fingers finding your swollen, aching clit.

He teases the sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing tight circles around it with the pad of his thumb as he fucks into you hard and fast. His hips rock faster in tandem with the finger on your clit, each thrust pushing a gush of your juices around his cock and down your thighs. 

You feel like you’re on fire, every nerve alight and singing Bucky’s name. You bite down on your fist, attempting to hold back the shrieks of pleasure bubbling up in your chest, “Right there, god, please!” You squeal, trembling with the burning need to cum, “God, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop, right there.”

Your whiny, wanton moans bring Bucky’s climax hurtling at him like a freight train. He ducks his head down, sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder and shudders. The feeling of your slick little cunt gripping his dick was maddening, and the needy, desperate sounds spilling from your lips were pushing him closer to the edge, “Fuck, honey. Just like that, keep screaming for me. Gonna blow my load in this hot little cunt.”

You whine in response, Bucky’s rough treatment of your clit sending you careening over the edge. Your cunt clamps down violently, slick release gushing out of your hole. Lips parting in a silent scream, you shudder, shattering beneath him. Bucky lets out a guttural moan, his voice raw with pleasure as you cum hard on his cock. A puddle of sticky wetness forms between your legs on the floor, dripping down the fat of your thighs. Bucky can feel his own orgasm building fast and hard, his shaft throbbing and pulsing as he caresses your clit through your aftershocks.

“Yes, fuck! That’s it, honey. Soak me, pretty girl, gonna- fuck!” He grunts, his hips slamming forward and burying his thick cock to the hilt in your spasming pussy with one hard thrust. He groans long and low as your sex milks him for all he’s worth, his hot seed flooding your insides.

Bucky shudders, hips jerking as he empties his heavy balls inside you, thick ropes of pearlescent cum coating your fluttering walls. He presses his hips tight to your ass, grinding against you. That’s enough for your legs to quit on you. His eyes widen as your legs tremble and then give out, your body going boneless and pliant in his arms. He tightens his grip on your hips, hauling you back up onto your knees. Bucky’s heart races, a wild bird in his ribcage, as he struggles to catch his breath in the aftermath of his intense orgasm.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he eases his softening cock out of your well-used hole. A river of his thick cum oozes out after him, dripping down your inner thighs, joining the puddle of slick on the floor. Bucky can’t help but feel satisfaction at how fucked-out you look, sporting his bite mark on your shoulder. His hands slide around to cup the soft swell of your belly, his palms splayed across the gentle curve. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way it flushed and erupted in little goosebumps from his touch. His gaze heavy-lidded, dark with lingering lust as he murmurs in your ear, “We can’t do this again, right honey?”

[magics-neptunes-things]

Love Sweet Love

Hi guys!

Happy Steph's day ♥

I'm sorry, I haven't posted for a very long time but I'm working on it. I hope you will love this new Chapter of my Steph's series. You don't have to read the first two, but it's a plus I think.

You can find them here : Lightning Love | Struck By Love

Please enjoy ♥

And Happy Birthday to Steffy ♥

TW : None

When you come back from the USA, after your injury against Colombia, Steph makes you live in her house. Officially to help you with your injury and because she doesn’t have any stairs in her new house. Which is really a good point, because almost all of the other people who could have offered their help actually have stairs in their home.

Steph and you have been friends since you were teenagers, so no one asks any questions when you mention that you are living with Steph for now.

With time, your things found a specific place in Steph’s house, and she even made some more space in her closet for your clothes. Your Tottenham jerseys are washed with her Arsenal ones, you share the vegemite pots that your grandmother sends you and you sometimes wear Steph’s shirt to sleep.

You love the intimacy between you and how everything is so easy with Steph. She is the most easy-going person in the world, and you are falling in love even harder with her every day.

You’re a little afraid of when it will be time for you to go back to your own apartment. It will probably be soon, because your cast has been removed two weeks ago, and you now have an ankle splint to help you walk. You are supposed to still use your crutches, even if you don’t when you are home. You prefer jumping around on one foot.

It drives Steph crazy.

Steph isn’t home for two days now, she had a game in Liverpool and left with the Arsenal squad. You weren’t able to go to watch her because you had to go to your rehab. So, you went to watch Tottenham playing at home instead, cheering for your teammates. Charli and her fiancé came with you to walk Calvin those two days and for the others walk you just stayed around Steph’s house or went in the garden with him.

When you come back home after the game, a look at the clock tells you that your girlfriend will be home in one hour.

You are so grateful for Steph, her patience while you were injured and all the little attentions she had for you during this time. So, you decided to thank her with a real good meal tonight, with all the romanticism you have in you.

You set the table with a red tablecloth, a vase with some roses in the middle of the table and some candles. You listened to the florist talking about the number of flowers for the bunch of flowers, not even knowing before that the number had a meaning. Coming back home, you thought a little bit about your ex-girlfriends and wonder what they would think about your behavior.

You kind of explained to Leila what happened with Steph, without giving her the name of your girlfriend. But you needed to explain to her the reality of your feelings and why things didn’t work between you two.

For dinner, you chose Steph’s favourite meal, and you ordered the ingredients needed to be delivered to you here. It’s way easier for you like this, doing your shopping in crutches would have been way too complicated.

Steph’s car wheels squeak on the gravel in front of the house several minutes after. You jump between the fridge and the table with the starters when Steph opens the door.

A cream and red flash passes next to you when Calvin runs to great Steph, making you smile softly. You distinctly hear Steph cooing and greeting Calvin back, before coming in your direction.

“No! Don’t come here! Close your eyes!”

“Why? What have you done?”

You jump on one foot in her direction, seeing that Steph had in fact closed her eyes. She looks so cute with her low bun, her scarf and her training clothes that you can’t help yourself but steal her a kiss.

You feel her smile against your lips and then kiss her cheek when she talks.

“Is it to distract me about the fact that you are walking without your crutches?”

“No” you giggle. “Can you walk without opening your eyes please?”

You take her bag from her hand and put your hands on her shoulder to walk easier towards the table. You make her stop and move to be able to watch her reaction.

“Ok, now you can open your eyes” you say when you are in the right place.

You totally ignore the table you settled a little bit before, your eyes only looking at her. Steph’s eyes go wild for a moment while she takes everything in sight. You are suddenly nervous, wondering if it’s maybe too much. Or stupid? You never talked about it finally, but isn’t a girl supposed to like being surprised?

Maybe it’s not a good idea finally, after being away Steph maybe just wants to take a shower and go to bed.

“Did you do all of it yourself?” she asks finally, turning to face you.

“Yeah” you nod, fidgeting with your fingers. “I wanted to thank you properly for the way you took so good care of me while I was just like a burden hurt teenager. I am really thankful for you and your patience and your kindness”

You are totally rambling now, talking a little too fast and almost breathless. You weren’t looking at her while talking, looking at the flowers in the middle of the table. But when you feel her grab your hand, you look at your girlfriend again.

“You have nothing to thank me for, I did it because I wanted it. Even if you are terrible to look after, you little troublemaker”

You smile shyly and let yourself relax when she hugs you. You pass your hands around her neck, taking advantage of your position to breathe her scent. You really missed her.

“Do you mind if I go take a shower quickly before we eat, though?”

“No, it’s a great idea. You stink” you smirk.

You giggle when she smacks you behind your head, clinging against her when she pretends to push you away.

“You’re so mean”

“Yes, but I made diner”

She rolls her eyes and smiles before you let her go. She doesn’t smell at all, but you totally understand the need to take a shower and refresh herself after a long travel day.

You lean on the furniture behind you, looking at her leaving to go to the bathroom.

“Steph?” you call her just before she closes the door.

“Yeah?”

You look at her curious face exceeding the port frame two seconds before smiling softly.

“I really missed you”

Her eyes go soft, and you would literally die for the smile coming on her face right now. There is a tenderness in her eyes, and you sometimes are still surprised when you realise that it is destined to you.

“I missed you too” she says softly. “I’ll be quick, okay?”

“Yeah” you smile back.

You look at her going inside the room again, before jumping back towards the kitchen.

“Use your crutches!” you hear her shout from the bathroom.

You roll your eyes again before deciding to oblige and go to look for them. You don’t really know where you left them, and you finally spot them next to the door of Steph’s bedroom. Then you go back to the kitchen and start to warm up a little what you will eat after the starters.

A little lost in your thoughts, you don’t hear Steph coming back. She takes you by surprise, passing her arms around your waist and kissing your cheek at the same time. You almost jump off your skin, which she seems to find very funny.

“You’re so annoying” you grumble, even if you are smiling.

You just can’t resist her laugh.

“I’m sorry. What can I do to help you?”

“Just put your ass on that chair, Catley”

“As you wish”

You weren’t expecting her to take you in her arms, carrying you like a bride, to the table. She then puts you in your chair before sitting in front of you. That wasn’t exactly how you were picturing things, but it’s maybe better like this. At least you aren’t scowled one more time because of those damn crutches.

You have to admit that you are pretty satisfied about how you were able to cook everything. You like cooking, you sometimes don’t have the time or even the energy to do it. But today you really liked cooking for your girlfriend.

After the diner, you went for a quick walk with Calvin and then to the living room. Arsenal men are playing, and it probably will be a good game. You take advantage to snuggle against Steph, happy to find her arms back. She absently strokes your back under your shirt while watching the game, talking sometimes about something that comes into your minds.

“Dean wrote to me earlier today” Steph says casually.

You feel your heart missing a beat and a strange feeling in the bottom of your stomach. All the fun you had after sharing Calvin's last mischief in the park is now very far away.

“What did he want?”

Your tone is flat, probably giving Steph a hint that you may not be handling this information as easily as you should.

“He wanted to see Calvin”

You can feel her eyes on you, but you look straight in front of you, looking at the TV screen without really looking at it.

“I thought Calvin was your dog only, not his?” you frown.

“He’s mine only, but he still wants to see him again”

You just hum for any answer. You don’t believe it for a single second, in your opinion it’s just an excuse to be able to see Steph again. You know that your girlfriend is the one who ended the things between them. Now that some time has passed, maybe he wants to see if they maybe could get closer again.

You don’t like the strange feeling, now not only in your stomach, but in all your body. You maybe are with Steph for several weeks even months now, but you still don’t take your relationship for granted. You are fully aware that you can lose Steph at any time. Few people know about your relationship after all, it would probably not mean much in the eyes of the world. To yours, however, it would be worse than anything.

On another hand, you can’t tell her that you don’t want her to see him. You won’t take that right.

You raise your eyes on Steph when she pokes at your ribs, to see that she’s still looking at you.

“You know that if I ended things and cancelled my engagement with him, it’s for a good thing, right?”

“Of course” you mumble, looking at the screen again.

She already told you that he might have a thing with a girl he was talking to while they were still together. But other than that, you never really asked about him. Steph never mentioned him either, to be fair.

“Are you still talking to him regularly?” you ask finally, raising your eyes on her again.

“Nope. It was the first time he wrote to me since Christmas. You’re the one being friend with your ex”

She’s right here. Since the confessions you made to Leila, you and her are friends again. She started throwing teasing comments on your Instagram’s post again and you call each other from time to time.

“If it bothers you…” you begin while sitting.

“Not at all” she smiles “It was just to point out that you are still in contact with one of your exes too. But I trust you.”

“I trust you too. But Leila knows we are together. Your ex doesn’t even know that you aren’t single anymore.”

“I’ll let him know, okay?”

She’s looking at you with so much affection that you can only smile back at her. You feel your body relax again and you cuddle closer to her again.

“Okay” you say, burying your face in her hoodie.

********

Several days later, you are finally able to walk without any crutches, having received the green light from the physio team. You don’t feel any discomfort in your foot anymore and it’s a really good point.

In fact, you were even able to train with the rest of the team today and that makes you happier than ever. You probably won’t be able to play that weekend, but it’s obvious that it will be okay for next week.

You are practically hopping when you come home that day, parking your car next to Steph’s one in the driveway. You frown when you see that there is another car too, not recognizing it like Beth’s car or even one of her teammates. In your memories, no one is driving a Skoda.

Like usual, Calvin comes to greet you when you arrive, this time silently stroking himself around your legs. You pet him, before hearing voices coming from the living room.

“I just… It doesn't make any sense to me. I thought you were friend with her, nothing else”

Dean. What the hell is he doing here? You frown again, taking two steps to be able to hear better what is happening in that living room. None of them heard you coming in.

“Nothing ever happened while we were together, Dean” you hear Steph sigh.

“Still. She just waited for us to be over to shoot her shot?”

“Not at all. She doesn’t even say anything, I kind of pushed her to know about her breakup at Emily’s wedding and… Well, you don’t have to know everything, but I was the one figuring out alone her feelings for me. Then all clicks and it was like evidence”

There is a beam of silence, only broken by Calvin chewing with application one of Dean’s shoes. You let him do it with a cold satisfaction. You don’t like the way that man tries to make you pass for the one corrupting Steph in the wrong way.

In contrast, you love the way Steph doesn’t share everything with him. It belongs to you and her, not him.

“And just for the record, you were the one getting over it very quickly with that girl from your medical team”

“It wasn’t serious. She was just a rebound”

“You were talking with her when we were still together.”

You can easily picture Steph, her eyebrow arched, and her arms crossed on her chest.

“It was a mistake” he sighs. “I shouldn’t have done that. If I knew it would push you to end things between us, I wouldn’t even have looked at her.”

“She wasn’t the reason for our breakup. I mean maybe a small part of it, but it wasn’t the big deal. What I said at this point was valid and still is. I just don’t have any love feeling for you anymore”

Must be painful to hear, but at least you have to give credit to Steph for standing her ground and being clear with him. You empathise a little bit with him though, you will be destroyed if Steph ended things between you. Even if you never will talk to someone else like he did.

“Okay but what will you do when you will want to start a family? You won’t even be able to do it together”

Okay, we are now finished with empathy. Maybe now is the best time to make your appearance. You go for the door again, opening it without any discretion.

“Love, I'm home!” you shout happily while almost slamming the door.

You take off your shoes quickly without even untie the laces, petting Calvin’s head.

“Living room” you hear her answer.

Deciding to put it more in the show, you start to talk while you are still outside the room.

“Did you know that Hayl… Oh. Hi.”

Dean and Steph are both standing in the room, separated by at least two meters from each other. You look at the both of them, taking the situation. He seems upset and doesn’t answer anything, and you drag your gaze away from him when Steph talks.

“Hi Sweets. How was training?”

“Great”

You smile at her and hesitate to go for her, but when she raises her arm to invite you to hug her, you don’t hesitate. You pass your arms around her waist, kissing her cheek softly. You don’t want to push things too far either, you know she won’t like it.

You cringe a little at the silence coming after that, exchanging a glance with Steph. You want to know what the hell is this guy doing here, but you don’t really know how to ask that question.

“Dean informed me that he found some of my things in his boxes and wanted to give them back” Steph informs you.

You probably will be forever grateful at how much Steph knows you and seems to read into you. You just nod before turning your eyes toward him. He was already looking at you and you know that look perfectly. He seems to be jealous of your proximity, but you won’t move.

Maybe it’s a stupid thing to want to mark territory, but you don’t want him to pop randomly at Steph’s door, now that he knows where she lives. Anyway, you don’t take your hand off of your girlfriend’s back.

“Lucky you were home” you finally answer.

“I didn’t realise I needed to ask for approval to see my ex-fiancée” he growls.

“She lives here too, actually” Steph intervenes before you even can open your mouth “She has her words to say”

You use your better poker face at this, because you totally aren’t living here officially. Now that you are able to walk correctly you could probably go back to your home, but you never really left. Steph never asked you to do and never made you feel like you were too much here.

“I have to go” Dean finally says. “I have training”

You don’t move but Steph nods, saying goodbye too. You can’t hide the smile creeping on your face when you hear him grumbling when he finds his chewed shoe, Calvin now sleeping peacefully on his bed next to the couch.

You love that dog.

When the door is closed, you feel Steph take a deep breath and lean a little more against you. You realised how tense she was, but you are surprised by such a relief.

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly, kissing her temple.

“It was the first time I saw him since I left our home” she explains to you. “I told him I was seeing someone without saying your name, but he didn’t want to leave before knowing how you are. I’m sorry, I don’t think we will be able to hide our relationship for any longer”

“It’s not a problem for me” you shrug. “People have known that I love women since my teenage era. What about you, though?”

“I don’t know” she begins slowly. “I haven’t any problem with Kyra knowing it to be honest. But maybe I’ll need to talk about it to my family first”

“Okay. If you need me, just tell me, yeah?”

Stephs smile softly at you, and you kiss her for good this time. The kiss is soft and slow, and you feel her thumb stroking your cheek softly.

“So, what did Hayley do?”

********

Later that day, you are looking at the ceiling, lost in your thoughts. Even if you tried all the rest of the day to forget about Dean and what he said, some things are dancing in your mind.

Did Steph and him talked about starting a family? And if it was the case, why does it bother you so much? They planned to get married; you shouldn’t be so disturbed with that. You know you are lucky to finally be with the girl of your dreams, but that strange feeling in the bottom of your stomach won’t go away.

You tried to distract yourself by cooking with Steph, playing some video games with her and telling her about your first training back since your injury, and it went pretty great to be honest.

But now with Steph under the shower and Calvin sleeping, you are alone with your thoughts.

“I was waiting for you to come with me”

Steph’s teasing voice makes you smile softly. You turn on your side to look at her when she enters the room, wearing a big shirt and probably panties, even if you can’t see them given the size of that shirt.

“You are the most beautiful girl in the world” you mumble.

Your smile grows wider when she rolls her eyes and makes one grimace of her own. You love her with her hair down.

“That’s true!”

“It’s not” she giggles while coming with you under the cover.

“Yes it is”

You let her have the time to lie on her back before you lay on her, sighing with ease. It’s your favourite spot in the world. You enjoy her stroke in your hair while she scrolls on her phone for several minutes, before starting to draw shapes on her hips with your fingertips.

“I can hear your brain boiling, Sweetheart” Steph finally says. “What’s going on?”

You bite your lips softly, looking for a way to approach things. Because she doesn’t know that you heard a big part of her conversation with Dean, and you don’t want to upset her. Your silence pushes her to try to guess what’s in your mind.

“Is it football related?” she asks first, and you shake your head no. “Is it about us?”

“Kinda” you hesitate. “I just…”

“Is it about something you heard earlier?”

Damn. You look at her, stunned, torn between guilt and amazement. You can see the ghost of a smile on her face and her eyes shining with fun.

“Do you think I really don’t know you?”

You roll your eyes with a smile, accepting the teasing easily. She doesn’t seem mad, and she waited for you to show something to talk about it. You really don’t deserve that girl.

“I didn’t want to intrude. I didn’t know it was him” you shrug.

“I knew it the second you passed the door” she smirks, making you smile too. “Plus, I don’t have anything to hide from you. What part of the discussion is playing with your head?”

Sitting on her hips, you pass a hand in your hair. You don’t know how to express yourself and how to tell her things. Once again, you don’t want to fight with her. But you promised each other early in your relationship that you will always discuss and talk about things, not to drag any misunderstandings along.

Steph waits patiently, looking softly at you while playing with the edge of your shirt. You finally decide to go straight to the point, it will be easier like this.

“When he talked about having a family. Is it something you discussed together?”

You try hard to fight against the pictures coming in your mind, focusing on your girlfriend’s pretty face.

“Not really” she frowns. “We were both into sport and I don’t think it was time for us to have this conversation. He was very traditional you know, first dating then living together, then engagement… One thing at time”

It does make sense actually. You nod softly, trying to process this information.

“But was it something you wanted?”

You watch her looking at you with a little bit of… angst maybe? That doesn’t seem good and just when you were going to tell her that you finally don’t want to know the answer to that question, she starts to talk again.

“No, not really. It’s very selfish but I wanted to finish my career before even thinking about it”

Oh. That wasn’t what you were expecting. It’s probably strange to feel a little relieved about it.

“It’s not selfish” you assure her with a smile, redrawing the features of her face with your fingers. “We, women, have to choose between sport or baby. It’s so stupid”

She nods softly, suddenly lost in her thoughts. It looks like things were exchanged because several minutes before you were the one thoughtful. Now you feel lighter than ever.

“What is it?” you ask, tilting your head on the side.

“What about you?”

“I was never serious enough in my relationships to even talk about it” you roll your eyes.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want to have kid one day”

She has a point. You feel your cheek getting redder because to be honest, the idea of you and Steph with a little kiddo running with Calvin in a big garden is something you would love. Maybe even back in Australia, who knows.

“I do want kids, but not carelessly. I want to have time for them, all of that…”

“Okay” Steph smiles softly.

“And a great mummy to raise them with me” you add, winking at her.

“Okay” Steph says again, laughing this time.

“But not now, though”

“Not now”

Steph repeats your sentence before suddenly grabbing you by your hips to change your position, making you lie under her while she straddles you.

“We have something else to discuss first” she says.

“Oh, do we?”

“Yeah. What do I need to do for you to live officially here? Lose your keys? Burn your house?”

“You just have to ask” you laugh.

“In that case… Would you like to live here with me?”

“I’d love to”

She smiles at you with so much tenderness that you feel your heart almost burst with love. Taking her gently by the collar of her shirt, you drag her towards you to kiss her. She doesn’t wait any second to kiss you back, making you smile against her lips.

“You’re such a dork” you giggle shortly after.

“You love me, though” she answers, her head now on your shoulder.

“I do. You don’t know yet how much I do”

“I love you too.”

[lilylushes]

Luigi Mangione - NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): I already did h/c’s for this, but he’s amazing. He cuddles with you, praising you and leaving you kisses. Things like, “you were so good for me,” “you’re so pretty,” “I love you so much, baby.” He would get you water, put on a bath or shower and join you. He would be reading up on how to make you feel good after sex too and why it’s important for you and your relationship.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): his PhD I think his abs or shoulders. He said himself that he got his six pack because he had to change his workout routine due to an injury. He adapted and worked through his hardships. And I think he probably likes his shoulders as well. On you, I think he would love your eyes. This is a soulful man, imo. He knows that eyes are the windows to the soul and I think he would get lost in them all the time, sometimes even zoning out haha. Even when you’re just cuddling, he asks you to look at him, just so he can look into your eyes and tell you you’re beautiful. But when you’re intimate, he loves eye contact. LOVES it. It cannot be understated. He wants to see you come undone for him while he stares into your soul and you stare into his.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): We all knew this but he has a BREEDING KINK. He didn’t talk about low birth rates for nothing, and he comes from a big family. He loves the idea of cumming inside of you to make you his. When you first said, “fill my pussy up, please,” something in him changed. He almost went feral, finishing right after the words came out of your month. His dirty talk will always include things like, “gonna breed this pretty little pussy,” “want me to fill up this tight pussy of yours,” “wanna fill you up with my babies, hm.” And speaking of, when you guys start trying for kids, you’re fucking like rabbits, even though you did before as well. You’re going at it multiple times a day in every room.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): Before you talked about having kids and before you got off the pill, he told himself he wouldn’t be mad if you did get pregnant. He knew he wanted to be with you forever and believed in divine timing. The two of you wanted to settle down, but weren’t fussed about getting married and then having kids or having a certain timeline. He often thought of what they would look like and sometimes he would mention to you a name that he liked just to see your reaction.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): This is a tough one because I think he could be experienced but maybe not. I’m actually leaning towards him not being that experienced due to his injury and seemingly not being that into dating casually and being a nerd. I would say body count under 10 for sure, potentially less than 5. Still, he DEFINITELY knows what he’s doing. He had a book about female pleasure on his GoodReads for god’s sake. He gets off on you feeling good and finishing. He knows all the female anatomy and is always reading about new ways to please you whether it be a new pussy eating technique or a way to please your erogenous zones. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): MISSIONARY. In this sense, he’s a traditional kind of guy. He loves all sex and all positions, but missionary is his favourite because he’s dominant and can see you coming undone beneath him. He has access to your clit, boobs, hips, neck, mouth, everywhere. He can also look deeply into your eyes the entire time which he loves doing. Eye contact is CRITICAL to this man. Oh, and he can lower himself down to whisper dirty shit into your ear. His favourite things about missionary overall are seeing the effect he has on you and being able to look into your eyes.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): He can be goofy sometimes, but not all the time. I think goofiness would mostly happen in bed, rather than any quickies, where he’s rougher and more serious. He’ll laugh if you’re fucking at his or your parents’ place and you can’t keep quiet, or if something falls over. It puts you both at ease and make you feel safe and connected. You love when he laughs right against your lips or face.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): We’ve seen how fast the hair on his head grows, so I’d imagine down there is similar. I’m thinking that he keeps things neat and trimmed, but not fully bare. As for you, I don’t think he’d have a preference at all.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): I think that Luigi really sees all intimacy as something that is almost spiritual for your connection. It’s an important part of the relationship, but he doesn’t think that in a selfish way. He knows it’s so important for your partnership and relationship. Luckily, you’re both horny freaks so there have never been any issues there. I think sexually, he’s pretty traditional in the way that he loves missionary, eye contact, etc. He wants to feel as close to you as possible physically, emotionally, spiritually. But not in such a serious or intense way. He watches you closely, knows what makes you get closer to your release, and is always praising you and dirty talking.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He doesn’t masturbate often because, as I said, you’re both horny freaks

If he does, it’s because you’re away or maybe after you had a baby (and he probably asked permission before lol)

For him, jacking off could NEVER beat having sex with you, EVER, so he almost never wants to do it because it’s just not that arousing

You have tried both touching yourselves in bed together, but your hands quickly wander to the other person

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): Like I said, breeding and praise kink!!! He wants to give you his babies like yesterday. To him, making a baby together is the most intimate thing he can think of. It’s really the two of you committing to one another forever and going through something incredibly special together. I’m just also going to add that while he enjoys MAKING the baby, he’d really have that attitude throughout your pregnancy and postpartum. And yes, praise kink. Since day 1, he’s been calling you a good girl and saying how beautiful you were taking his cock. Oh, and size kink! He loves the thought of his PhD hitting your cervix and stomach. He gets hard just thinking about how you have to adjust for a second after he enters you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): I think he likes the bed. It’s your safe place where you can try new things and be as close as possible. The bed also makes missionary more comfortable as there’s ample space for the two of you. He would like the couch too. Many of your makeout sessions during movie night turn to more and you don’t feel the need to go to the bedroom. Sometimes when you have a bath together, you’ll ride him nice and slow, which he loves. That being said, it’s not like your kitchen countertop, car, and several public places haven’t been sites for your sexcapades.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): He loves seeing you get turned on. He is all about giving you pleasure. If you even moan during a perfectly innocent kiss, the blood rushes downward. Seeing and hearing you beg for him, eye contact, and dirty talk work on him too. Even if he’s not in the mood himself, if you are, he’ll get in the mood. He knows he’s the only one who can make you feel that good, and he loves nothing more than seeing you taking his cock and talking you through your orgasm.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Scat and piss for sure. I also think he would never be down for a threesome, like, ever. You’re his and he’s yours, in this life, and the rest. He’s not going to do anything super violent. He’ll slap your ass of course (and maybe your face idk on this one), but he’s not going to be violent with you. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): Like I’ve said, he gets off on getting you off. Watching you come undone on his fingers or his mouth could make him cum in his pants. Our little bookworm is always reading about new ways and techniques to make you cum. That being said, he loves the sight of you on your knees, taking him in your mouth, licking the tip, or sucking his balls while pumping his length. He will ask you for BJs on occasion. You two communicate all of your needs well, including sexually. If either of you asked for or received oral, you always reciprocate, or at least offer.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): A mix! There are times when he’s slow and gentle, and times when he’s rough and fast. You both enjoy both A LOT. And you seem to be able to read each other’s mind on what you want or need on that day. Slower, gentler sex makes you both feel incredibly connected to one another emotionally, while rougher sex brings out your primal sides. Both are essential for a good relationship, so you VERY happily take part in both often. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): You two usually have sex at home because you like to be free to make noise and let your guards down, not worrying about someone hearing or walking in. Being at home lets you really focus on the other person and how they’re feeling. But you do engage in quickies. And because you’re both perpetually horny, it’s decently often. Typically, it’ll be in your car, on a secluded beach, or in a bathroom. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): He will if you demonstrate to him that you’re comfortable and feel safe. A lot of things are your suggestion and he’s happy to try. You’ll try things like sensation play, some light BDSM, but overall you keep things pretty tame.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): With his back, he can’t go for as many rounds as he’d like, but the ones you do have pack a punch. Two or three rounds and you’re both exhausted, opting for a cuddle session or a bath to rest up before you’re ready for more. As for how long he lasts, it depends I think. Sometimes he will be fighting for his life not to cum in his pants while you’re grinding on him, and other times, he lasts quite a long time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): You’ll occasionally use a vibrator, restraints, blindfolds, butt plugs, and whips or ticklers, but it’s not often. You both prefer to focus on getting the other off all on your own. You like to bring in toys sometimes to change things up and heighten sensations.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): He loves to tease. LOVES it. And he wears a big grin on his face while doing it, saying, “how bad do you need my cock, baby,” “beg for it,” “patience,” “good girls wait,” or “you want me to give it to you.” Sometimes he’ll really make you work for it. Your begging gets him off. He knows it’s a bit cruel, but it makes your orgasm even more powerful, so it’s a win-win. He’ll also tease you in public. You’ve had to leave a few family dinners early.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): He’s LOUD. A moaner, groaner, whiner, occasional whimperer, and ALWAYS dirty talking and praising. When he comes, he groans and moans your name. When you tease him and grind on him, he whines and whimpers. He’s a vocal guy and sees making noise as a part of being intimate and letting your guard down with the other person.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): Luigi has asked you a few times to suck him off from under his desk while he’s in meetings. Once he heard whimpering and saw you rubbing your clit while you were sucking him off. He looked under his desk for one second and had to mute his mic and go off camera for a second because it made him cum right then and there.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): He said he has a PhD and I believe it. Also in one of his pics where he’s painted at Penn during his freshman year, his bulge is very visible and looks pretty big.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): It’s always there. Luigi is in touch with his body, including his sex drive. It’s increased so much with you, and luckily for him, you’ve got a high sex drive to match.

 Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): He couldn’t fall asleep without making sure you’ve been taken care of. Cuddling is essential for both of you. He praises you after as well, and if you’re in the mood to talk, he will listen or talk with you. Sex involves aftercare for him, and he needs to make sure you’re satisfied and ready to rest before he can think of sleeping.

[pluralsword]

I hate to say this but this was not my 4 - 8 experience, I had some friends and there was some common ground, but there was a lot of ostracism and bullying too mostly on account of me being viewed as effeminate except when I was talking about war or combat which did not feel great as a transfem egg yknow. I just assumed it was all misogyny and not that it was also misogyny directed towards me. somewhere around 2nd or 3rd grade I saw the girls getting chased by guys and their journals being stolen and dirt thrown at them and the next grade after they're dating like it didn't happen and that was just. at the same time as seeing and being taught misogyny and fighting it tooth and nail because it was so plainly wrong to autistic about gender and power dynamics me it was just so weird. (bear in mind I was not immune, I had this weird idea by the time I reached middle school that I shouldn't wear jeans because they would mark me as a girl and thus I'd be bullied more. sigh I have definitely had some hug and comfort the inner child from those days moments).

I was treated as weird, as effeminate, for being compassionate, for being emotional, for expressing love. I was born in 1997 in the USA, mind you.

There was this one kid in first grade or second who would hit me on the head with a pencil in class repeatedly every day and the admin didn't want to anything about it and tried to blame me for the bullying. This is one of several reasons why my parents had my sibling and I learn martial arts, was because of the stuff we went through.

However- I do believe that when kids are not subjected to violent, hierarchic socialization as much, the compassion most of us have as babies can survive (there have been a lot of studies over the decades on how babies cry empathically/compassionately in response to other babies crying) and those of us who don't have that have more of a chance to learn it.

As for gender... bioessentialism can get ingrained very early on and then has to be unlearned if that happens. We don't agree with everything about the Scandinavian model of socialism (in part because it is still very hierarchic), Iceland has wisely decided that they should restructure pre-k education (which is you know, available as part of the public education system, which is a good thing) so that kids get to do activities that are associated with one oppositional binary gender role or the other one half of the day, and then the other ones the other half of the day.

If we tried to institute that here in the USA in 2025 I dunno what would happen. It was hard enough to get comprehensive gender education passed in the states that have signed it into law in the last decade and Congress over the last several decades has been abysmal when it came to passing the Equal Rights Amendment from the 70s, which is to say they didn't because patriarchic bs. But someday, when the bioessentialists continued decline and the rise of solidarity reaches a point where reactionaries no longer have a way to get into power, we might see that. And they are declining in terms of their grip on people, everything about this decade in terms of the far right reads as desperation

watching children successfully and compassionately self-mediate conflict and wondering if it's possible to pinpoint where exactly it all goes wrong for us

[royalarchivist]

Jaiden: How did you guys even find out that, um... Chayanne's admin plays Cucurucho? [Reading chat] Ohhh, accidentally played the soundboard as Chayanne? That's hilarious actually. I wanna see the clip of Phil reacting to that.

Jaiden: I love– I love the way that Phil laughs, it's just such a hearty, genuine laugh. The few times that I've made him laugh, I've felt really good about myself! [Embarrassed laugh] Because he makes me feel much funnier than I am, you know?

Jaiden talks about silly QSMP moments and laughter. 💜

[ Full Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]

—

TRANSCRIPT

Jaiden: How did you guys even find out that, um... Chayanne's admin plays Cucurucho? Did they just tell- tell Phil? Did- were they just hangin' out? [Reading chat] "The same username"? Ohhh. [Reading chat] "It was a mistake"? ...Wait, what was the mistake? What do you mean "it was an accident"?

Jaiden: Ohhh, accidentally played the soundboard [Laughs] as Chayanne? That's hilarious actually. [Laughs] What di- what did he say, was he just like, "Ha ha ha"? [Laughs]

[Old clip of Bad, Fit, and the Eggs] Bad: –have one of the things I'm looking for. Chayanne: [Cucurucho voice] HA HA HA Bad: What was that? Fit: You heard that too, right? Chayanne: [Cucurucho voice] NO Bad: ...What the fudge was that. Fit: Wait–

Jaiden: [Reading chat] "He said 'no'" [Laughs] That's so funny. [Laughs] I wanna see the clip of Phil reacting to that. I love– I love the way that Phil laughs, it's just such a hearty, genuine laugh.

[Clip of Phil laughing]

Jaiden: The few times that I've made him laugh, I've felt really good about myself! [Embarrassed laugh] Because he makes me feel much funnier than I am, you know?

[Old clip of Phil and Jaiden] Jaiden: Oh, that's awesome! And then it– [She gets snagged by the machine] Jaiden: Oh– Ahh! Phil: Be careful! Jaiden: AAAAAᵃᵃᵃᵃᵃᵃ — [Her screams fade as she's dragged away] Phil: [Laughs] There she goes! [Hits his desk and laughs]

[Another old clip plays] Jaiden: [Singing along to "It's Been So Long" from FNAF] It's been so long, since I've last seen my– Phil: What is happening? [Laughs, then laughs more seeing Jaiden's mask] PFTTT– [Laughs] Jaiden: [Laughing] Phil: Jesus Christ–

Jaiden: It's just like, such a good laugh! I wish I had a– a like, more-hearty laugh. You know? You know what I'm talking about? My laugh is kinda like... Uh, you know how you guys compare Foolish's laugh to like, the... window cleaner? Like a– [Squeaky window-cleaning sound]

[Short clip of Foolish covering his face with one hand and making the squeaky laugh he's known for, slapping the arm of his chair as he keeps laughing]

Jaiden: I can't do it– [Laughs] It doesn't sound like that. I think mine is like... Because like, I do like, "Hee hee hee!" and I also like, breathe in, like– [Squeaky sound] You know? So I think– My laugh kinda just sounds like... Like, after you spray the window, and you're like, cleaning it. Like, wiping it down with a cloth. You know? That's what my laugh sounds like. I wish it was more of like a, "Ha ha ha."

[Short clip of Cucurucho saying "HA HA HA"]

Jaiden: But, I mean, I'm not complaining. I don't think– I don't think "laugh anxiety" is something that I wanna– is not a path I would really wanna go down. [Quiet laugh] It's like- sometimes, you just gotta pick your battles. [Laughs]

Jaiden: [Reading chat] "You have a good laugh" Thank you. [Quiet laugh]

[clockwayswrites]

Danny In Metropolis, ch3 p1

Masterpost

First draft and not read over. Migraine. Hurty. Currently on phone preying my green light helps. Please no edit or concrit <3

Despite their heart to heart about it, Danny still had to put a token complaint now and then about the lunches. Even with that, he ate every one. He also would also, in an oddly shy way, pass on thanks to Clark when there was something in the lunch that he really liked.

Kon made sure to tell each of those to Clark, in case, maybe, those things might make it more regularly into the rotation. He defended it to himself that it was just logical. If there were more things that Danny liked in the lunch, he was more likely to eat it all. As if Danny hadn’t eaten it all every day.

“So tell me about this Danny?” Lois asked with a smile that Kon didn’t quite trust.

For all that Clark was basically the alien embidiment of a cheerful, friendly golden lab, Lois was like a cliche cat. She was always after the canary too.

(She was also intimidating; she was more eloquent and put together than Kon would ever be, for all he pretended.)

“Um, he just moved here this year with his parents from somewhere in Illonois. Amity Park. He has an older sister, but she’s off at college.”

Lois stole one of the apple slices that Clark was cutting up. “What do his parents do?”

“Inventing of some sort. Danny doesn’t really like to talk about it,” Kon answered.

“A bit odd since he offered to come over and fix anything we needed fixing in return for the lunches,” Clark said. His back was to Kon, but he sounded like he was smiling.

The way Lois smiled when she glanced at Clark pretty much confirmed that. “Anything?”

“From dishwashers to computers to centrifuges,” Clark answered.

“Huh, well if our centrifuge ever breaks,” Lois drawled.

“I think that’s why he doesn’t like to talk about it. Like, I think that his parents used to have a lab at home or maybe more it felt more like they lived at the lab. They’re not supposed to do that anymore but,” Kon shrugged, “I guess habits die hard or something.”

“Hence the lunches,” Clark said. “Apparently food at home wasn’t always free of contamination, or at least percieve contamination.”

“Damn, poor kid,” Lois said, theiving another apple slice. “I guess you’ll just have to bring him home.”

Kon blinked and hoped to whoever that he wasn’t blushing. “Um, what?”

“For dinner,” Lois clarified with that dangerous little smile of hers. “Just to make sure he gets some good food then. I even promise to stay far away from the kitchen that night.”

“Oh, um, yeah, maybe?”

“You boys could work on that project after too,” Clark suggested, “pick Lois’ brain about poetry.”

“Oh god, poetry. I think I’m having flashbacks to Professor Eden’s class.”

“Bad class?”

“Amazing, but very, very weird. When God made that man, he broken the mold. I doubt there has ever been anyone else like him and the world is both better and worse for it. I may not be a poet, but he changed the way I looked at words.”

“Huh,” Kon said. “I guess… I can at least ask if he wants to come over.”

“For Friday. He can even spend the night if he wants,” Clark suggested. He turned around, handed Kon two lunch boxes, and just smiled back at whatever incredulous look Kon guessed he had on his face. “You’ve never had a sleepover, it might be fun.”

Kon felt confussed. “Um, like, every night at Titan’s Tower?”

“That’s more dorms than sleepover,” Lois said. “But just stick to dinner if that makes you uncomfortable, sweetie.”

“…right. Um, thanks, I’ll ask I guess,” Kon conceeded as he stuffed the lunch boxes in his backpack. “I better go before I’m late.”

“Have a good day at class,” Clark called after him.

“Dismantle the hetronormative patriarchy!” Lois added with a laugh at whatever look Clark sent her for that.

As if he could talk, he ran around in spandex with his underwear on the outside.

[leonastarry]

{ 10 } Don't belong here. ✧. ┊    s.jinwoo x isekai!fem!reader. notes: angst.

As a fan of Solo leveling, you can't help but wish that you could go to Jinwoo's world and have a love story with him.

You've read hundreds of Jinwoo x reader stories and wondered when you'd get to do that.

And maybe the heavens didn't disappoint your wish, you got the chance to go to Jinwoo's world.

You're in a dream, you think. Because as soon as you lay down and closed your eyes to sleep, you arrived here, a pitch-black space. An entity that calls itself the Architect asks if you want to come help Jinwoo overcome his difficulties.

You immediately agree and then the world spins.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

ANNOUNCEMENT:

WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF SOLO LEVELING.

YOU ARE CHOSEN TO BE JINWOO'S GUARDIAN ANGEL

[ ACCEPT ] [ DECLINE ]

You are taken to a strange room and a message board appears in front of you. You feel your cheeks heat up and a thrill rushes through your body.

You click accept and then another message appears.

SYSTEM:

YOU HAVE ACCEPTED THE GUARDIAN ANGEL JOB.

TASK: ASSIST THE PLAYER IN COMPLETING QUESTS. THE PLAYER IS YOUR NEIGHBOR, HE IS ONLY LEVEL 2, SUPPORT HIM.

Jinwoo is your neightbor!? Feel like a dream come true!

You quickly accept the mission and can't stop dreaming about the time after.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You made some cakes and went to Jinwoo's house, announcing that you were the new neighbor and asked his family to help more.

Standing in front of Jinwoo, you had to hold back from screaming and hugging him. He was so handsome! Much more handsome than in the pictures! Your heart was racing.

You quickly became friends with Jinah and Jinwoo. Then gradually became close friends. You were there for him through his toughest times, comforting him when he was feeling miserable. Helping him take care of Jinah when he was away and even paying his rent. Your concern touched Jinwoo's heart. The best part was that Jinwoo confessed to you and the two of you became lovers. You also met the shadow soldiers.

So your dream came true. You didn't expect this day to come to you. You were so happy!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

But things have been strange lately.

You know that a big battle is coming, and Jinwoo is getting busier and busier. But these days, he always leaves early and comes home late, and you two rarely talk to each other. Your relationship is gradually becoming cold.

You notice that Jinwoo is getting closer and closer to Cha Haein, he talks to her more than you - his girlfriend. That makes you very sad and upset. Then the two of you have a big fight.

"Can you not be unreasonably jealous? She and I are just colleagues and we are protecting this world together!"

"You don't understand! I'm your girlfriend! But you talk to her more than me. Don't you think about how I feel?"

"So how do you think I feel? You just get jealous and yell at me. Can you help me? I'm tired from work and now I have to deal with your anger."

"If I'm such a nuisance to you, why don't you just break up with me!?"

"Fine! She's better than you, you're useless!"

He got angry and walked out and slammed the door, leaving you with a jumble of emotions. You collapsed on the floor and burst into tears.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

He texted you an apology afterwards and you forgave him.

But he still didn't come home for weeks.

You could only hide in your house and hold on to your sadness. One day you watched the news on TV and saw Jinwoo standing next to Haein, his arm around her shoulder, looking very intimate.

You were angry and wanted to call Jinwoo to question him, but then you held back.

They really looked...like a perfect match. A handsome man and a beautiful woman, both of them were S-rank hunters, unlike you, you were just a normal person.

Moreover, the way he looked at her was very different from the way he looked at you. It looked full of light and joy.

Tears streamed down your cheeks.

Suddenly the system screen appeared before your eyes.

SYSTEM:

GUARDIAN ANGEL'S MISSION HAS BEEN COMPLETED. DO YOU WANT TO RETURN TO YOUR WORLD?

[ ACCEPT ] [ DECLINE ]

You jumped up.

"Wait, why do I have to go back? What do you mean mission accomplished?"

SYSTEM:

YOU HAVE HELPED THE PLAYER LEVEL UP SIGNIFICANTLY. NOW THAT THE PLAYER HAS FOUND HIS DESTINED PERSON, YOUR JOB IS DONE.

"What do you mean by destined person? I'm Jinwoo's lover!"

SYSTEM:

- [NAME] YOU SHOULD REMEMBER YOU DO NOT BELONG TO THIS WORLD. THE STORY WILL NOT CHANGE SIGNIFICANTLY, YOUR MISSION IS ONLY TO HELP THE PLAYER LEVEL UP FASTER.

- NOW THE PLAYER HAS FOUND THE DESTINY PERSON, YOU SHOULD GO BACK.

Reality hits you hard in the head. That's right. You're just an outsider. In the story, the person who accompanies Jinwoo to the end of his life is Cha Haein. You…are nothing.

You burst out laughing, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You don't belong here, Jinwoo isn't for you, you're just a nuisance to him.

You looked at Jinwoo's image on the TV screen. You smiled gently, your eyes lingering.

"I return the person I love the most to her, I wish the person I love a peaceful life.."

You returned to the system screen, before clicking accept, you requested.

"Before I go, please erase everyone's memories of me here, so that I can leave peacefully without any lingering memories."

[ … ]

[ OKAY ].

A golden light enveloped you, a few seconds later, everything returned to normal. From now on, the world of Solo Leveling no longer had anyone named [Name], and no one remembered [Name] anymore.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

In a hotel room somewhere in the United States, Jinwoo woke up, his heart pounding. Anxiety enveloped him, his heart ached and there was a void. He felt like he had just lost something very important.

He touched his cheek, feeling it wet. Had he just cried?

The shadow soldiers seemed to sense the unstable emotions of their master, Beru, appearing.

"My Liege, did something happen?"

Jinwoo shook his head and lay back down on the bed.

What you didn't know was that the system had lost control of Jinwoo. So, everyone else might have lost their memories of you, but Jinwoo and his shadow soldiers didn't.

Jinwoo opened his phone, the lock screen was a picture of you and him taking a selfie with a silly cat ear filter. He smiled and told himself, he would come back to you soon and apologize properly to you. He missed you so much. He will come back with fresh flowers and your favorite things, and you two will be happy again.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"What do you mean? You don't know anyone named [Name]? Jinah, she's my girlfriend, she's my neighbor, and we're even really close!?"

"Oppa, what's wrong with you? I really don't know anyone named [Name], or are you secretly in love and mistaken!?"

Jinwoo looked at Jinah with an expression of disbelief. He had just returned not long ago and immediately went to look for you, but when he arrived at your apartment, you were not there, instead there was another stranger.

He called you, but only received a message that the phone number did not exist. He felt worried and immediately went to look for Jinah. He also ordered his soldiers to disperse and look for you.

But the strange thing was that it seemed that besides him, no one remembered you. Every trace of you disappeared as if you had never existed. As if you were just a dream that he imagined.

Jinwoo's eyes burned, his throat tightened, and his heart clenched. He should have known something bad had happened since that night. And now you were gone, the person he loved was gone.

Jinwoo punched the wall hard. His eyes were filled with anger.

“Search again. Bring back the living, and find the dead!”

He ordered his soldiers again. The shadow soldiers could only look at him with pity but obeyed his orders. They knew they couldn’t say anything to him right now, they wanted to say that you really disappeared, if you were still here they would definitely have found you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jinwoo sat down on the floor of his room. His hands covered his face and his eyes were red, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He still couldn't find you. He felt hopeless. Where were you? Where was his angel?

He was angry at you for disappearing without a word. He was angry at you for leaving him in pain like this.

But he was more angry at himself. He shouldn't have said those words. He should have apologized properly from the beginning. No. He shouldn't have said those words from the beginning, he shouldn't have let his anger take over him like that. He felt regretful, if he hadn't said those words, if he had stayed away from Cha Haein, if he had understood your feelings, would you not have left?

He was afraid, afraid that you were just someone he imagined, but the memories seemed so real, and the picture of the two of you was still in his phone.

Where are you? He misses you so much.

"Come back please...I love you, don't leave me, [Name]...I'm sorry.."

But it's too late...

Part 2?

Lol don't know if I should write part 2. Maybe yes maybe no.

[dimmadoome]

To all my American friends,

What should you do if you find yourself in a rut thinking, how do I fix this?

You read.

Pick up a copy of 'The US Constitution and Other Writings' first and read through them. Make sure you know our bill of rights backwards, forwards and sideways. Make sure you understand how our system works. When new bills are proposed, read them. Read every single one of Trumps new executive orders. You have to know what they want to do so you can put together the pieces of the puzzle as to what is going to actually happen to you. The reason yall can get fear mongered so easily is because you don't know what they can and can not do to you. It seems like such a small thing to do. You might think you are a fighter, not an intellectual. You might believe that your talents are better suited somewhere else.

They aren't.

You can not take on the largest military in the world. Not head on and not even banded together. Even with every single gun toting redneck at your back, you can not and will not win.

What you do to fix the situation we are in is you learn how they are taking things from you and you work to combat that. Get out and vote. As proven by your unwillingness to vote in the last election, Voting does matter. It really, really does. Anyone who tells you any different is a russian spy and a maga shill. Your vote matters. Emd of story.

Our government isnt air tight, but it is so tied up in beurocracy that everything these fucks are planning to do WILL NOT HAPPEN QUICKLY. It will take them years to implement anything. Especially constitutional changes. If we can swing the house and senate blue the next two years, they will be blocked from doing the worst of the damage entirely. Remember the first Trump presidency? How we combated his bilullshit then? Our representatives and Congress people were somewhat democratic. Maybe, if yall actually tried, you could do it again.

I know, I know, the dems are shit, the dems are definitely in the oligarchs pocket. But they are to goddamned lazy and ineffectual to actually pull the trigger on fascism. And that is what you need. You need these people to be a place holder until you go out there, boots on the fucking ground, and get involved in your local politics. You get your people elected, then you keep moving them up until they become your representatives and congresspeople. YOU do the work.

A good place to start on that. Get to know the disabled folk in your community. They are forgotten but they ARENT stupid and they certainlyare worth the time and effort to bring to your side. They are the ones that need to have their voices heard. Imani, or Crutches and Spice as she is known, has already said this. That the right have been out there, talking to disabled folk. Making them feel seen and heard because the dems arent fucking doing it. And its working.

You guys know that we have to wrestle the government away from these fucks to actually win back our rights, right? You do realize that a fucking revolution is STILL not going to happen, right?

As a foray into my personal thoughts to end this one out. I think we need to abolish the Electoral college. We need to put term limits on supreme court justices, we need to make sure that We The People and not the presiden gets to elect them if they are making laws and we need to get rid of lobbying all together. If we can get just those four things gone within the next ten years, we might be able to swing our shit back around and have a good governmental basis to make the changes we need.

If yall are gonna be waffling around, asking for solutions. There. There are your solutions. I've given you solutions. Fucking take em.

TLDR: your first order of business is to stop expecting footnotes and start reading everything ya lazy fucks.

To my Asian, European, African, and Canadian friends...do y'all wanna know how the United States found itself under a fascist, Hitler-loving dictator named Donald Trump?

In another post, I started my timeline in 1980. The year I was born. But, it was also a turning point in US politics.

First, let me share my credentials.

- Bachelors of Arts - History

- Juris Doctor - Public Interest Law (Critical Race Theory)

- Masters of Philosophy (research degree) - Sociology (Race, Ethnicity, Conflict)

Just recently, we buried President Jimmy Carter, who was the president, when I was born. Jimmy was from Georgia, like my grandmother, and he came from a Southern Baptist background. Southern Baptists are known for being very conservative Christians who did not support abortion.

Jimmy, despite that background, actually supported LGBTQ rights by lifting a federal ban. He supported Roe v. Wade which protected access to abortion. And, he established the federal Department of Education.

However, Jimmy had an antagonistic relationship with Congress, and that alienated several Democrats, including Ted Kennedy, who was the brother of John F. Kennedy, a president who was assassinated.

The Kennedy family has an established name brand due to JFK and Robert F Kennedy (another brother and JFK's attorney general who was also assassinated). Ted was the younger, drunken brother who caused the accidental death of a college friend.

In 1980, Ted challenged Jimmy for the presidency even though they were both Democrats. Jimmy has the incumbent shouldn't have faced a challenge from his own party, but he had just been that bad.

So, this internal strife weakened the Democratic Party entering the 1980 election. In that same year, Jimmy boycotted the 1980 Olympics in Russia due to Russia's invasion of Afghanistan. Furthermore, there was a recession.

The Republican Party nominee was a former Hollywood actor turned politician named Ronald Reagan. Ronald was the governor of California and was trailing Jimmy in the polls until a presidential debate in which Ronald used his acting skills to make Jimmy seem incompetent.

Ronald believed in "trickle down economics." He believed that if the wealthiest people were taxed less, then they would spend more, thus boosting the economy and allowing prosperity to "trickle down" to the working & Middle class.

He also believed in increased military spending as this was the height of the Cold War with Russia. My own parents voted for Reagan because my dad was in the military.

Instead of trickling down, the wealthy just grew wealthier. Republicans continued to lower taxes for these individuals and businesses, so the money never trickled down. Social services were underfunded & unemployment increased. Reagan's response was to blame Black "welfare mothers" for abusing the system.

Republicans latch onto this. They implement work requirements for government assistance and make it harder for folks to pull out of poverty. As a result, a wealth gap separated white folk from the rest. White folk felt their hard earned money was supporting lazy white & Black folk, so they continued to constrict welfare programs.

[Section added] During Reagan's term, an unknown illness is killing young, gay Black & Latino men. It's AIDs. Reagan deemed it a gay disease that only affects gay people, so no funding is allocated to study this disease. It's viewed as retribution for their homosexua lifestyle. However, overtime, they learn about HIV once non-gay men were infected. Children die from the disease because blood is not tested for it, so some are born from it through their mothers while others were given transfusions.

Under Reagan, the Fairness Doctrine ends. Under this doctrine, news agencies had to report both sides of an issue. Because of this, television stations can now present one side. Fox News opens as a conservative network.

Ronald is well-loved by white folk. He gets elected to two terms. By the end of his term, the economy has recovered, and white folk are prospering. Then, his VP, George H.W. Bush, is elected.

Under George I, the Cold War ends, but we have the Gulf War in Kuwait. He signs trade agreements that result in several American companies, namely the auto industry, to shutter their doors and build factories overseas. This is due to a change in tariffs!

Millions of Americans lose their jobs as factories close. Detroit, as the leading auto manufacturer city, is devastated. Back in the 90s, Detroit was the 4th largest US city after Chicago. These factory closures hit the Midwest, especially hard.

This makes Bush unpopular. He is challenged by a young, charismatic Democrat named Bill Clinton.

Bill was a southerner like Jimmy, but Bill was a very well-known ladies' man. Bill appeals to Black Americans, though, and that allows him to defeat George.

Bill continues expanding trade agreements. He's a fiscal conservative despite being a Democrat, and under Bill, military spending is reduced.

[Section added] The rise of AIDs leads to further hate directed at the LGBTQ. During the 90s, several queer people are murdered. One such kid was Matthew Shepard. A college kid in Wyoming, he is beaten by a gang of white men. His family was terrorized so much, that they couldn't bury him because of fears his grave would be desecrated.

[A white woman Bishop in DC invites Shepard's parents to bury him in their graveyard. That Bishop is Marian Edgar Budde, the same Bishop who gave Trump his inaugural sermon this past week. She pleaded for Trump to have mercy on the queer community because she was the Bishop who buried Shepard!]

Bill is a popular president. The economy is booming, but he's still a lady's man, and he gets in trouble with a college intern.

This scandal adversely impacts the last few years in office so much so that his VP, Al Gore, loses the presidency to George W. Bush.

George Bush won the Electoral College while Al Gore won the popular vote. There was such a tiny margin that there were numerous recounts because of faulty ballots (hanging chads). Eventually, the Supreme Court intervenes and tells them to stop the count and certify George as president.

George II is the son of George I.

George II is a popular Texan with swagger. He wants to build up the military once again.

Clinton left a surplus of money, so what did George II do? He implemented tax cuts for the wealthy. That damned "trickle down economics" again. The wealthy get wealthier, increasing the wealth gap between white folks and everybody else.

They cut taxes while cutting social services. One of his biggest "achievements" was a restructuring of our educational system called "No Child Left Behind."

NCLB emphasizes test scores. School administrations are penalized if they don't meet these standards. They lost funding, so electives such as home economics, art, Music, etc are trimmed to make room for these test standards. By this time, my dad has retired from the military and is a school principal, and I remember the stress of trying to meet these standards.

These standards emphasize STEM at the expense of liberal arts. This is happening just as the internet becomes available to all.

Amazon opens as an online used book store. Facebook is started as a college message board. There's a tech boom, so everyone is being pushed into tech fields. Liberal arts education was devalued.

During his term, 9-11 happens. We declare war on Afghanistan. Islamophobia spikes. Fox News helps drive this narrative. Christianity is now being pushed into schools, whereas schools were previously secular.

[Section added] In 2004, the assault rifle ban was lifted. Now we are seeing a dramatic spike in school shootings. The Far Right embraces the expansion of the 2nd Amendment.

Then, we go to war in Iraq.

We aren't quite sure why we're at war with Iraq. We overthrow Suddam Hussein (from the Gulf War). George declares victory, then terminates the Iraqi Army.

This triggers an insurrection. Massive casualties are coming out of Iraq. The war in Afghanistan is overshadowed.

George serves two terms, but his VP is so unpopular that he doesn't run for president. Instead, the Republican nominee is John McCain.

Two Democrats fight for the nomination. Hillary Clinton, the wife of Bill, and Barack Obama.

Barack was a young, biracial Senator from Illinois. I attended law school in Illinois, and one of my classmates had been his legislative aide. I met Barack twice while a student. The first time, he had come to campus to propose a college-savings account. After his press conference, I latched onto his arm and refused to let go until he heard me, and I explained that his proposal was unrealistic because it assumed that a single mother would have the resources to save for an education when it was more likely her money would go towards groceries & rent or other immediate needs. (Fast forward two-three years, and the dude is repeating my line during the State of the Union! I had changed his mind!)

Barack beats Hillary for the nomination. He defeats McCain and is sworn in as the 1st black (not Black) president.

Obama is popular and well-loved by most Americans. Under his tenure, gay marriage is legalized.

Fox News triples down on their hatred.

Their network booms. They push Islamophobia 24/7. Highlight the fact that Obama's father was Muslim and that his middle name was Hussein.

Older Americans are watching program after program of this negativity. A movement starts called the Tea Party movement, which positions itself as a fiscally conservative movement. A bankrupt slumlord with a reality TV show gains popularity with these folks.

I wrote my master's dissertation on the Tea Party movement. It's called "Jesus and the White Man."

Donald Trump

Donald latches onto the Islamaphobia. He calls Barack by his middle name and questions his birth certificate. Donald grows popular with older Americans.

At the end of Obama's term, the son of VP Biden dies. This devastated Biden. He had lost his infant daughter & first wife in a car accident. He decides not to run for president.

Obama supports Hillary.

It is now Hillary v. Trump.

Trump pushes misogyny and Islamaphobia. Hillary is Bill's wife and a woman. She is the most qualified presidential candidate to ever run (at that time).

During Obama's last year in office, Justice Antonin Scalia* dies. Obama has the privilege to nominate that next Justice, but Mitch McConnell stalls through the election.

But older white Americans were barely okay with a black president. They were not about to let a woman serve as President. At the same time, an organization called Cambridge Analytica began to fine-tune an ultra conservative agenda.

With the help of Russian intelligence, they use Facebook ads to try to persuade voters to support Trump. They succeeded with white folk, but they did not succeed with the Black vote.

Russians used African bot farms in order to try to persuade Black Americans to support Trump. We rejected him at 90%.

Donald wins the Electoral College but not the popular vote.

Donald is a corrupt and ineffectual president. He tried to bribe foreign leaders and shared US intelligence with Russia.

However, as a populist, he latches onto the Christian Right. He nominates 3 Supreme Court Justices who lie during their confirmation hearings. These Justices will ultimately vote to overturn Roe v. Wade.

The Christian Right love this. But then COVID hits and the incompetence of Donald leads to millions of deaths. These Christian folk refuse to get vaccinated or wear masks.

Donald is an unpopular president and ranks as the worst president of all time.

Biden challenges him and wins.

Donald refuses to accept that he lost, so he organized an attempted coup. January 6th.

He's impeached. Twice.

McConnell refuses to take the step to have him permanently barred from office.

Biden takes office when COVID is still rampant. The Christian Right continue to push their agenda, seeking to remove protections for the LGBTQI.

Right wing media generates a lot of money. Podcasters jump on the bandwagon. Red pill content spills into the mainstream.

Kids who were isolated during COVID are now at home watching Joe Rogan & Theo Von. They spend hours upon hours on TikTok.

But unbeknownst to these kids is the history of Russian interference.

Schools emphasize STEM. They don't emphasize liberal arts or social sciences such as history or literature. The literacy rate plummeted to an all-time low. The average white American's reading level is at the 4th grade. They aren't able to engage in critical thinking.

They don't know the history of the Spanish Influenza. They don't know the history of a trade war that triggered the Great Depression. They don't know that our government has imprisoned citizens in internment camps. They don't know Hitler's rise to power.

In fact, Fox News frequently features individuals who deny the Holocaust.

Russia move their troll farms from Facebook to TikTok, where the algorithm serves as an echo chamber. Uneducated, illiterate folks gobble up 30-second videos but can't be arsed to watch anything over 5 minutes so complex issues are stripped down to sound bites.

The algorithm pushed right-wing fascist talking points. They rehabbed Donald while shifting Gen Z to the far right. They do not know how to verify information for themselves, so they gobble up misinformation and disinformation.

If a TikTok creator has millions of followers with thousands of views and likes, these kids assume that that info is factual. They do not vet shit for themselves.

Russia pushed anti-American propaganda that posed as pro-American talking points. Pushed isolationism. Pushed anti-democratic rhetoric. In fact, one of their greatest accomplishments is convincing Gen Z and uneducated, white Millennials into thinking we aren't a democracy.

We are a fucking Democratic Republic. Our constitution begins with: "We the people".

So, because of TikTok, Trump won.

That's why Biden was pushing for it to be banned before the election. The algorithm was being corrupted. But folks couldn't part from their addiction.

Folks who had been anti-Trump just 5 years ago are suddenly Trump supporters. They were brainwashed.

So, how did we get here?

We got here because most Americans are fucking STUPID.

[oikarma]

number one girl

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: the story of ynmax is a very, very heated topic riddled with holes and chock full of conspiracies: a couple and split to rival brocedes. it's mostly an a f1 thing, though, until you release an album and the internet tries to deduce what ruined a decades-long friendship.

a/n: angst warning. bear with me, you're in for a long ride. we go from twitter to insta to reddit to sdfsd. this was SO FUN!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by stevienicks, georgerussell63 and 3,104,827 others

yourinstagram: "number one girl" out now.

view all 411,295 comments

user1: mother??? music???

user2: our multitalented baby <3

stevienicks: so proud of you ❤️

yourinstagram: so thankful for you 🥺 your support is immeasurable in worth

user3: max verstappen did you-

user4: george listening to this so he can justify bullying max next season

user5: please 💀 i choked on my water reading that

user6: CHARLES IN THE CREDITS FOR PIANO?? how many side quests has this girl roped people into

user7: they're still good friends lol just cause she and max stopped speaking doesn't mean she's not close w the rest of the grid user8: @/user7 right! she and alex have also posted each other quite a bit after the rhode collab

user9: is no one talking about the lyrics 😃 gut wrenching, yes, but the way it all lines up w max??

user10: no babe dw we're all talking about the lyrics user11: my roman empire...

user12: who's this max guy and what does he have to do with my queen y/n

user13: @/user12 he's a formula one driver, they ued to be best friends user12: @/user13 like nascar? omg what i only knew that she debuted in shadow n bone but WHAT IS THIS

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

A PAGE FROM Y/N's JOURNAL November 15, 2021

Max is a plane right now to see Kelly. I feel like I've been punched, three times over. The nausea is getting to me.

How could you? Just say all those things, like you always do. Do you mean any of them? When you say "I love you, more than anyone in this life." When you say "You're worth it, really. "When you say "forever." Does anyone ever really mean forever? Forever is part of the foreseeable future. You cannot capture what is beyond that.

You were my life. The words, every moment. An inescapable reminder.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by charles_leclerc, brunomars and 2,819,305 others

yourinstagram: "toxic till the end (ft. lewis hamilton)" is up on youtube and all music platforms ♡

view all 309,418 comments

user1: what. the. fuck.

user2: is she dating lewis? what? y/n girl please stop being cryptic my head can't take all of this 😭

user3: if this is part of the press tour i must say i am now extremely invested in the ynmax drama and i didn't even know who max was until i saw a thread on number one girl...

lewishamilton: Best of luck with your future endeavors, Y/N 🫂 Will be by your side!

yourinstagram: you better be 🫰 user4: the friendship we didn't know we needed

user5: lewis with...pink hair...

user6: max emilian verstappen fumbled so hard

user7: imagine ghosting THE y/n l/n and then she drops this

user8: well, 4 years later but yeah user9: what even is a wdc...

user10: what does the heart mean y/n

user11: bro

user12: so i guess the harry styles dating rumors were all fake 😔 but omg lewis music!!

kellypiquet: Face and voice of an angel 😽

yourinstagram: me? please, pregnancy glow has been treating you good 💕 user13: at least they don't have any hard feelings...

user14: bruno in the likes is the most random thing ever

user15: acting career, check. singing career, check. formula one side quests??? multple checks

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by kellypiquet and 4,103,697 others

lewishamilton: Behind the scenes of Miss Y/N's "toxic till the end" music video

tagged: yourinstagram

yourinstagram: looking good there, lew

lewishamilton: Very kind of you to say user1: trust me we are witnessing the start of a great romance

user2: i don't want to delulu too hard but PLEASE tell me y/n's moved on with lewis it would be the ultimate baddie move

user3: imagine...you won abu dhabi but you lost the love of your life to the guy you beat 🤪 user4: we're all insane but i'm just going to keep dreaming

charles_leclerc: Why am I not in your dump?

yourinstagram: face card wasn't lethal enough user5: she's brutal 💀 user6: our charles's facecard could start wars idk what she's on

user7: daddy please give me ONE chance

user8: give me some of that maranello?? he looks so good oml

user9: focusing on music videos and not racing...no wonder he's washed

user10: @/user9 can you stfu and touch grass user11: @/user9 literally no one asked

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX November 2021

Dear Hey, Y/N.

I realized you blocked me. It hurts. I don't know what to say or what to believe anymore. I miss us. Overstepping was the wrong choice, if you must, but going back is not impossible.

We've been friends for so long. Why can't you won't you try?

I miss you.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

r/Fauxmoi · 1 day ago hamilton7xc

Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N's infamous split explained?

feralonsos: So she's been pretending he led her on when she lead him on

parking23: I don't know anymore. I know nothing. Don't even talk to me.

forzamcqueen: I want to say it's not about YNMax but 21 (as in 21, when they split?) and Y/N has been coming out with music recently. When you look at the "number one girl" lyrics from Boy's perspective it lines up with this submission. That Max wanted reassurance from Y/N and she gave it to him, but she couldn't give him everything he needed.

↳ roses_berg: @/forzamcqueen I don't know...it seems kind of unlikely. Y/N has a lyric about "chasing the prize" or something like that. What prize would she be chasing? On the other hand, you have Max who has clearly said racing is his passion and he loves winning.

↳ forzamcqueen: @/roses_berg I see where you're coming from but there are a few interpretations. Toxic Till the End suggests she thought his attachment to her was maybe unhealthy, and he kept trying to find ways to keep her by his side. Y/N has mentioned in past interviews (promo for her role in Shadow and Bone, when she was starting to do acting) that she's had bad experience with past relationships and is hesitant on starting a new one.

↳ januaryblues11: @/forzamcqueen Sorry, what interview? Could you link it?

↳ forzamcqueen: @/januaryblues11 No worries, I put it down below. The part I'm referring to is around 5:41.

↳ WolffHornerFan: @/forzamcqueen Okay, okay. I need a timeline then. She must've started filming Shadow and Bone in Oct 2019, then wrapped 4 months later in Feb 2020. This might be the "prize" she's chasing? Her own career. Before it was announced that she was in the series most news referred to her as "close friend" or "best friend" of Max Verstappen. Now a lot of people know her for S&B or Top Gun Maverick, etc.

↳ CautiousOwl: Might've not wanted her relationship to overshadow her career. It's understandable, if she wanted to be taken seriously instead of a "nepo friend."

↳ 4norrisop: She's amazing in Shadow and Bone! Definitely recommend checking that out, but I don't understand why she ghosted him.

↳ ynluv07: @/4norrisop he was dating kelly at the time. she might've thought it was a bad idea after it happened (i'm referring to the kiss, which i assume happened because she explicitly refers to it a few times in "number one girl") and distanced herself. maybe she told him it wasn't okay?

↳ ICEMAN_bwoah: Brain hurts.

↳ brooksies: Well if she did give up her happiness because she thought Kelly deserved better, that's great. No wonder they're still on good terms.

↳ DauntingParrot91: @/brooksies Yeah, sure...

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX January 2022

Y/N, I'm sorry I asked for too much; I'm sorry I pushed you. I'll take my bags and go quietly, this time. Maybe you'll open the door again someday. I love you too, my best friend always.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lewishamilton, taylorswift and 4,103,269 others

yourinstagram: Burnout.

comments on this post have been limited

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM Y/N February 2022

Wish you'd take a little longer to pack up your bags. You're moving too fast. Make me want to hate you more than I hate myself, so I don't have to miss you. Make a mistake, please. So I have someone to blame.

Please, won't you stay a little longer? I would call you babe, just to make you smile. I wouldn't mean it that way, but I still love you. You're my best friend. Why wasn't that enough?

I'll be okay, sometime. You say it's written all over my face, and I wonder, what is? I'm fragile, now. I'm speechless, now. Don't leave me in pieces. I'm sorry, let me fix it. It won't be good for us, but oh-how I want to.

I'm already having trouble breathing. Please, stay a little longer. I can't stand these four walls without you inside them.

Come back, be here.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by kellypiquet and 1,249,805 others

maxverstappen: She stayed a little longer 🖤

tagged: kellypiquet

view all 91,432 comments

user1: GUYS HE DEF HEARD THE SONG

user2: do we think kelly asked him to post it

user3: tbf given on how sweet her n yns interactions are i wouldn't be surprised if she listened to burnout

user4: kelly. you are the strongest woman i know

user5: so i can convince you the minute i kiss you speak a little softer so i don't have to answer and make it okay before you can say

user6: i just know he had a little breakdown inside after he heard the album

user7: max rn: CHARLES HOW COULD YOU PLAY PIANO FOR HER

user8: max: alexa play that should be me user9: ho-olding your handdd

user10: who are we blaming today

user11: at least max is finally someone's number one girl

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX Summer 2024

Sometimes I look to the television and you're on, flying a plane or wielding magic, whatever it is you do these days. I knew you could act. I knew you'd make it far. I hear you were nominated for a Golden Globe, too.

I was mad for a long time. I was upset you kicked me out of your life so abruptly.

Kelly's expecting. I think she will be as good a mother to our child as she is to little P. A family is what I have always wanted, you know. It was not what you wanted.

I am sorry. I have said that many times, but one day I will need to say it to your face. I am truly, irrevocably sorry for all the hurt I caused you, in the name of love.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

r/PopCultureChat · 1 day ago forzamcqueen

"Burnout" by Y/N L/N

How do we feel about the release of the full album? Moreover, how do we think it fits into the YNMax narrative? I, for one, have been listening non-stop trying to figure out the story.

lec_clerc16: I think it's funny how many people have gotten into F1 because of her music. Lol.

↳ NaturalOtter5: Well Lewis & Charles were on it so I would say the F1 community is pretty interested in the tea aswell.

↳ lec_clerc16: @/NaturalOtter5 Right, but YNMax is old drama. Sure, someone's posting in r/F1 every other week about an old photo or new quote. It's still been around for a while. This is fresh meat 😋

jennyowens1342: such a player...LOL who is gameboy about atp

↳ sassybanana: TBF Y/N's dating life has been a lot more quiet than Max's. There have been rumors but she hasn't hard launched anything. Maybe the one public "relationship" was enough for her.

museapollo: the more i listen the more convinced i am that y/n did not want the relationship as max did and decided it was best for them to stop being friends. the whole album is about a codependent relationship and the two people can't deal with leaving but they know it's better for both.

↳ janitorsclosetmonster: yess!! that's what i've been saying. we can't blame y/n for everything, it must've been confusing for her as well. having to navigate everything. idt she'd dated anyone at that point. max was her only close friend.

↳ EggplantParmesan713: But did max cheat...that's the real question. When did THE kiss happen? And who started it?

↳ museapollo: @/EggplantParmesan713 idk. i can't figure if she actually loved him (romantically) bcs it's clear he did but her side is a bit more hazy. you have: 1. "i just WANT it to be you" - it's not actually him she loves but she desperately wants it to be him 2. "cause even when i said it was over / you heard baby can you pull me in closer" - she's telling him it won't work out but he's not listening. 3. "please, won't you stay, stay a little a little longer, babe?" - she pauses before babe, like it's her trying to convince him to stay. mb she thought it was best to distance herself/end the friendship for a bit but she still loves him a lot because they've been friends for so long

↳ forzamcqueen: @/museapollo The best explanation I have heard so far. You can't force someone to love you the way you do. At least they've matured and moved on.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

January 2025

Dear Max:

Congratulations. I'm sure you will be a wonderful father, as I have always guessed. 2024 was a great year for you. I watched all a few of your races; you've still got it.

I'm putting out an album soon. I thought you should know. I already had a talk with Kelly, she's listened to some snippets and she likes it a lot. Some of the writing is about you the things I never said.

It was wonderful being your best friend. We had a good run, better than most.

Missing you Wish you the best, Y/N L/N

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

February 2025

Dear Y/N:

Occasionally, I think of all that could have been.

But we had many years together, and I will always cherish those moments.

Kelly loves the album, she puts it on while she cooks or does her makeup. P sings along in the car. She says she wants to go out for a tea party with you sometime. I listen to it even when they're out of the voice, for a reminder of your voice. You've made quite a name for yourself. I'm sorry I couldn't be there by your side.

Thank you for writing it. There are some things that you have to hear once, just for yourself.

Love Always Yours, Max Verstappen

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

what did you think?? i might do a part 2 of yn & max talking for the first time in forever but i wanna know if you guys liked this one first LOL

[neptuneiris]

Champion | (One-shot)

Everybody is a Ferrari Fan

pairing: driver!aemond (Formula One) x wag!reader

summary: runs in the family to get into the F1 fanaticism, where you not only learn about engines, racing teams, championships and drivers, but you also meet a certain driver who is currently getting a lot of recognition; Ferrari driver, the Sapphire Prince, Aemond Targaryen.

words: 12.5k

my masterlist

sé que prácticamente ya será Febrero, pero feliz año nuevo atrasado! espero que les guste esto, pero primero quiero agradecerle a mi bestie @silverdragonfly for giving me the idea to write this Formula One AU, she also writes amazing stories so go support her ❤

also, if you don't know anything about F1, don't worry, you can still read it since i didn't add so many terms and if there are, i made sure to put a simple and easy to understand explanation. still, the fic is more about the relationship between the driver and his wag. enjoy!

warnings: language, sexual content, smut.

The Formula One has won over thousands of fans all over the world with its incredible races where drivers compete and fight to be the world champion.

It is one of the most expensive, exclusive and prestigious sports in the world, where unforgettable experiences are lived in the world of motor racing with ten teams and two drivers belonging to each one, for a total of twenty drivers.

The sport has gained more popularity in recent years with its impressive and thrilling races. Not to mention the talented drivers. Your family, especially your dad, has always had an interest and fascination for the sport.

And who knew that you would also become a fan once you really paid attention and your dad would also explain the basics of understanding racing and how it works.

But not only that… the sport also literally took over your heart.

It was last year, at the Monaco Grand Prix near your home in France, that you went with your dad to experience it. Your dad, being a millionaire businessman, can afford such luxuries. And at that time you were on vacation from college, so why not?

Your dad got a paddock pass for him and for you. A whole VIP experience with a privileged location over the garages of the teams, with a view of the starting grid, the pits, access to the backstage area and also with the opportunity to see and meet the drivers.

You really only went to that Grand Prix knowing the basics. And being right there, watching the race live, helped you understand more concepts and moves, and it was a truly amazing experience.

Until, of course, your dad wanted to meet the drivers and take a look at the garage of his favorite team; Red Bull.

It was in that area that you saw him, Aemond Targaryen. Number 08, Scuderia Ferrari, the Sapphire Prince.

You already knew the drivers. And you weren't excited to meet any of them in particular. Until, well, you saw him and the urge to talk to him, get close to him, at least ask for a picture, was too much.

Seeing him in pictures and videos was one thing but now seeing him in person…it was breath taking.

Silver hair, pronounced jawline, pointed nose, sharp and very well detailed features, besides a charming smile making him look like some kind of Greek God… you fell for him.

Everyone is a Ferrari fan. And at that moment, you understood very well why. Not just because of the famous team, but because of the drivers who represent it. And Aemond Targaryen represents it just right.

His talent for motor racing keeps him as one of the best drivers of the last seasons. So far this year, in most Grand Prix he had stood on Podium as third or second place and in other races, he had already won four.

“Oh, it's that boy… Targaryen.”

Your dad had said next to you, pointing him out into the short distance.

Aemond was signing some T-shirts and hats with fans, so your father slowly approached and you followed him, watching him captivated and attentive, inevitably starting to feel quite nervous without knowing exactly why.

Roger, your dad's friend and also one of the many important workers in Formula One, leads you both in the direction of him to introduce you.

The fans suddenly disappear and the next thing you see, he's shaking hands with your dad.

“…businessman in France, big fan of Formula One and Red Bull,” Roger introduces them, ”And Aemond Targaryen.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Aemond tells him politely, with a small gentle smile on his lips.

“The pleasure is mine, lad. You are indeed incredibly talented.”

“Oh, thank you so much. That means a lot,” he holds a hand to his chest, ”Red Bull huh? But you're also a Ferrari fan,” he says amused, making the conversation more enjoyable.

“Well, it's inevitable,” your dad confesses with a shy little smile.

You both laugh and you're still like… watching him in slow motion.

You watch as he runs a hand through his silver hair, which shimmers in the sunlight, tossing it lightly with those long, pale fingers. And his captivating smile, his blue-gray eyes, the way he speaks, his tone of voice, how good he looks in the red sports suit, everything about him is truly captivating.

“This is my daughter, Y/N.”

Suddenly your dad's voice brings you out of your trance, also as the three of them and especially he watches you inside the small circle you are in.

You quickly compose yourself, about to have a nervous breakdown. Then you smile kindly and extend your hand to him, which he takes instantly.

And if it weren't for the fact that he's holding you and also because you're embarrassed, you would have already fainted the moment he smiles at you.

“Aemond, nice to meet you,” he says smiling at you.

“Nice to meet you.”

You let go of his hand and your dad watches you the whole time with a curious little smile.

“Still no scudder takes hold of her. But I'm slowly getting her to follow in her dad's footsteps.”

´Oh God.´

“Is that true?” Aemond asks you, amused, “Did you already join the Red Bull team after watching the race? Because we can still make a spot for you on the right team.”

You let out a small laugh, feeling your cheeks flush.

“If I join Ferrari, you'll have to teach me all the special moves,” you tell him, with a condescending smile.

“It will be my pleasure,” he tells you, without even hesitating.

And it was at that moment that you liked him the most and you were struck by Aemond Targaryen. You also understood why he has so many fans and the media is so interested in him.

His very genuine personality, his kindness and charisma makes so many people fall for him without even trying.

“Will I see you both again soon?” he asks you and your dad, “We're halfway through the calendar and I'd be happy to see you around again.”

“Sure, we'll try to make a space,” your dad nods.

Obviously the drivers' job is not only to race, but also to attend a lot of interviews, meet a lot of people, attend to their fans and a lot more on each qualifying and race day.

So you and your dad say goodbye to him and Aemond leaves, where instantly people surround him, like his assistant, manager and so on.

“It doesn't look like he had an accident.”

Your dad says suddenly and you watch him almost instantly, talking to Roger.

“Surgeries and rehab.”

“But he hadn't lost his eye?” your dad asks confused, ”That one he has isn't fake?”

“No, it's just rumors. He couldn't see out of that eye for a while, but he didn't lose it. The surgeries saved it. Also with surgery he was able to cover the ugly scar he was left with.”

“Oh,” your dad nods, thoughtfully, ”And how old was he when that happened?”

“Ten.”

This definitely gets your attention but you don't ask your dad any questions. At least, you don't until you're both on your way home, on the plane.

Apparently, in his early days and when he was just beginning to discover his talent for motorsport, Aemond was involved in an accident at the age of ten.

Aemond's dad, the late Viserys Targaryen, was a world champion in his time. He had impressive skill in his youth, being a driver for Williams, then Mercedes and finally Red Bull.

Yes, he was amazing, but only for a time. Still, he was a bad dad.

Scandals were known to surround him regarding his wives and children. Terms like negligence and lack of responsibility always haunted him, even to this day despite his passing.

And Aemond, in an attempt for him to appreciate him and prove to him that he would be a great driver someday, took his car unsupervised to practice and suffered the accident, where he almost lost the sight in his left eye when he was cut with metal from the car in the middle of his face.

You didn't notice anything strange about his face either. But Roger was right. Since he was a little boy he underwent surgeries to forget that accident that almost killed him and almost made him never drive again.

But not only did you keep this information about your dad, you also researched more online about his life and accident, suddenly captivated by Aemond Targaryen.

After the accident and his rehabilitation, at the age of eighteen, he signed a contract for the Hass team in Formula Two.

The difference between Formula One and Formula Two is that in Formula Two the cars are different in terms of engines and power, which are not as powerful as in Formula One. There is also a lower speed limit in the races.

And this is intended to demonstrate the true skill of the drivers at the wheel, rather than the ability of the teams to build superior cars as in Formula One.

Then, he ascended to Formula One to become a driver equally for Hass and finally, he ascended to Ferrari after demonstrating his incredible skills so young and scoring points for both the team and himself, where he has been racing for them for two years.

This and more is what the internet tells you about him and his family. You also learn of an affair he had with a woman, Alys Rivers, apparently older than him and a Formula One worker.

It was a scandal for a while, as the woman is too much older than him and it was supposed to be a secret, until they were discovered.

You also read apparently rumors of ´infidelity´, firing of that woman and that he didn't really claim to have a serious relationship with her or anyone else, so he's single.

You also stalk him a bit on Instagram and unable to help yourself, you follow him. But what you least expected is that he was going to follow you back.

As you get back to college and walk out of one of your classes, you look at your phone and the notification of Aemond Targaryen has started following you pops up.

It was silly to get excited about it as a little girl but you did it anyway. And soon after, the Italian Grand Prix is announced. Races always take place on weekends, so you and your dad again attend a race at Monza, the home of Ferrari.

The whole trip, knowing you'd probably see him again, kept you excited. Until it finally happened.

Walking through the paddock, you spot his silver hair in the distance, obviously with a lot of people around him, with half an hour to go before the start of the race. Your dad is walking next to you and when you are in the same area as him, you pretend not to see him and focus your eyes on everything around you except him.

Totally ridiculous but you want to play it cool.

“Mr. Y/L/N.”

You try to control your emotion and finally look at him, where he politely addresses your dad and you.

“Mr. Targaryen,“ your dad greets him, extending his hand towards him, “How nice to see you before the race.’”

“Aemond, please,” he shakes his hand, then looks at you with a small smile on his lips, ”Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile softly at him.

“How are you feeling, lad? Ready to win today?” your dad says to him, smiling.

“Oh, well, that's the plan,” he nods, letting out a long sigh as he looks around briefly, ”Lots of pressure today.”

“It's Monza, the home of your team. Last year you made it, today you can too, and with a teammate like Sainz, you'll make it.”

“Very kind of you, sir,” he says, holding a hand to his chest, ”Thank you.”

“I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you.”

Then, at that moment, you decide to speak.

“You'll come out in third,” you speak softly, your voice quiet but confident, ”You have a good chance.”

He places his small, soft smile in your direction again.

“So you saw the qualifying?” he asks you, his tone playful but curious.

“Yes, we were here,” you reply, without missing a beat.

“Really? I didn't see you around.”

Alert!

Your mind immediately tells you the moment he continues with his eyes so strikingly set on you and that fucking smile on his lips. The way he addresses you, so close, so direct. His smile, his stare, his posture, it's all too much.

“Well, you'll see us from over there…” your dad points to where your seats are, “on the last lap celebrating when you win.”

Aemond suddenly pauses, his eyes darting first to your dad and then to you.

“And you don't want to celebrate in our garage?”

The question hangs in the air, as you stand in shock and disbelief.

You know that those who are allowed in the garage are obviously the whole team and people who know someone within the team who can get them in. Sometimes, celebrities are also allowed access if the team invites them, also the family of the drivers.

And also their girlfriends, or also as they are known; wags.

“Can we?” your dad asks him a bit skeptically.

“Sure,” Aemond says immediately.

“We don't want to get you in trouble—

“It won't be any trouble, sir,” Aemond again assures, ”Besides, it's my chance to make you a Ferrari fan… and your daughter too.”

He adds, giving you a smile and a subtle look that makes it clear that he is playing with being in front of your dad, but he means it.

And you just stare at him, unable to take your eyes off him, where the moment seems to stand still in time. It is so intriguing, so striking, and it envelops you completely. When your dad's voice brings you out of your little trance.

“Well, it's not every day that a Ferrari driver invites someone to his garage,” your dad says, enthusiastically, ”We can't turn down the opportunity.”

Aemond, upon hearing the affirmative answer, smiles in a way that makes his face light up with a confidence that only a driver of his caliber could have.

“Great. It will be my pleasure. Follow me.”

After a few minutes, you and your dad find yourselves in the Ferrari garage, led by the Sapphire Prince.

The atmosphere is electric and striking. The air is charged with concentration, but also with an adrenaline rush that can be felt in every corner of the place.

The roar of the engines in the background, the bustle of engineers and technicians in their suits working on the single-seaters, and the sound of orders traveling through the red headphones with the Ferrari logo create a unique atmosphere.

Everything is perfectly organized in this little chaos that draws you in.

You are both fitted with a new collar with a new card that specifies the rest of your stay to watch the race through the screens right here in the garage. You are also given a complimentary cap and jacket, all in the team's representative color, red.

Aemond guides you through the restricted area, where he watches you over his shoulder as you walk, making sure you follow him without missing a beat.

“So this is the heart of the racing team,” your dad says, in awe, looking at everything around him.

“It's impressive,” you agree, looking around curiously.

You inspect every corner, letting the place envelop you. The red single-seaters, seeming to take on a life of their own under the intense lights.

The glow of the engine, the precise touch of the mechanics' hands, the engineers' strategy… all this is part of a whole that only true fans can understand.

Obviously it's a privilege to see how the whole team prepares for the race and you enjoy it, while Aemond talks to your dad and another man and they explain everything in the garage.

You, on the other hand, stand back a bit and head towards the screens where you can watch the race, which is no different than watching it from the comfort of your own home.

Still, the atmosphere here is totally different.

You stare at the screens, analyzing how they work and seeing that each screen shows a different shot, but they focus more on the two Ferraris. You receive several curious glances from some people who are here, but you don't give them importance.

You look at the clock and it's fifteen minutes before the race starts, so you go back to inspecting all the technical equipment.

“Impressed?”

Aemond's voice comes to you suddenly, causing you to turn to him. He stands next to you and looks at the screens with the same intensity you do.

“Yes,” you admit, with a small smile as you pull back a little so he can see what you're looking at, ”Everything here is so… different.”

“It's just the beginning,” he assures you, ”When the race starts, the whole place gets intense. Especially today.”

You nod, understanding, since they're at Monza and expectations are sky high.

“Nervous?”

“I'd be a fool not to be,” he tells you slightly friendly.

“Sure,” you let out a small laugh, ”With Russell and Norris in the lead and Verstappen right behind you, it's going to be tough.”

“I thought you said I had a chance,” he tells you, a slight smile playing on his lips, but not the typical arrogant one. It's more like a friendly challenge.

“You've got it,” you assure him without hesitation, feeling the rush of confidence wash over you, ”If you do it right.”

He lets out a small laugh.

“Okay… what would you do in my place?” he asks you suddenly.

“Oh n-no, no, I couldn't tell you any of that,” you say instantly, flustered and embarrassed, ”It's not like I—

“Please,” he interrupts you, taking a step closer to you, “I want to hear you.”

You think about it for a moment, watching the grid projected on one of the screens of the F1 TV channel, the perfect medium for those who follow every race from home.

And it's not as if you're an expert on the subject, obviously there are people who are in charge of analyzing all this for the team, the options and the possibilities, deciding which is best to win.

Still, it's not quantum physics, it's something that can be solved with strategy and reasoning.

“Someone of the two has to hold Verstappen off, your teammate or you,” you start to say, pointing at the screen, ”Although moving up from eighth to fourth for Sainz won't be easy either. As for the top positions, Norris is trickier than Russell. He definitely won't want to give way.”

Aemond nods, watching the screen as you do next to you.

“Yeah, it's a tough grid.”

“You could do an undercut,” you suggest, “Or gain even one more position on the grid and leave Norris to Verstappen. But holding those two off, it won't be easy. You'll have to be very fast,” you say, ”What has your team told you?”

He gives you a smile, watching you.

“The same thing you did. Only in different words.”

You let out a small laugh.

“You do know about this kind of stuff, after all,” he adds.

“You don't need to be Einstein to understand either,” you say amused.

“True,” he nods, “Although we'll need a miracle if I want to pass Norris and outrun Verstappen,” he points again to the screen showing the grid.

You take a second, deciding to change the atmosphere.

“What about your lucky charm?” you ask with a light smile, hoping the touch of levity will break the tension a little.

He hisses, bringing a hand to his chin, watching you in amusement.

“Actually… I don't have one.”

“What?” you say instantly, surprised, ”But everyone has one, don't they?”

“I know, I know,” he smiles softly, shrugging, “It's a sentimental thing,” he says nonchalantly, “And I haven't found that something that brings me luck, yet.”

That's unexpected, but it doesn't surprise you. Everything about him is always calculated, logical. And luck never seems to enter into his equations. But then, his gaze softens and he looks at you with a look that you don't quite understand, but still catches your attention.

“Although, maybe…” he says, his tone lower and more personal, “knowing that you'll be here, watching me at all times…” his finger points toward the screens, “that might bring me luck.”

Alert! I repeat, alert!

Your mind again screams as your cheeks flare like never before and you can't help but smile as you lower your gaze, completely flushed.

You can't believe this is really happening. Him flirting with you? You didn't expect that to happen. But it is happening and you don't want to make him see that you've already fallen at his feet since the first time you saw him and talked to him.

So you quickly pull yourself together and look at him with a knowing look and a genuine, subtle little smile.

“Then don't look bad.”

“I won't,” he replies, his tone full of determination.

He looks you up and down as that fucking grin appears on his lips that almost makes you faint. But before he or you can say anything else, at that moment a man calls out to him, announcing that the race will start soon.

“I'll see you when it's over, then,” he tells you before leaving.

“I'll be here,” you assure him, smiling softly.

“Hm…” he cocks his head thoughtfully, watching you, “yeah but you'll need one of these,” he says suddenly, picking up one of the red Ferrari headphones attached to the screens, “So you can listen to them announce my name when I win.”

You're already blushing enough without him telling you this too. And as if that wasn't enough, he puts the headphones on you himself, while you allow it and watch him attentively at all times with your little soft smile, trying not to melt.

And when he's done, he watches you with that satisfied look.

“Much better.”

'Don't faint. Don't faint.'

“Thank you,” you say as you arrange them better in your ears, ”And good luck.”

He gives you a last grin to finally walk away, while you see him in the distance finishing his preparation, where like an expert racer, he puts on the red helmet with the Ferrari logo and finishes making some adjustments to his racing suit to finally get into the car.

As the hours go by, all the Tifosi in Monza go crazy. Red Bull, MacLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari put up a great fight. The race is very intense and exciting, where everyone in the garage is on the edge of their seat to see their two drivers in the lead.

You don't miss a single detail, while your dad next to you also watches the screens with his red headphones on.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't just watching Aemond, but that's what you're doing. You don't know if what he said, about you being his lucky charm, he's taking it seriously but you are, looking forward to seeing him on the podium and as the winner of the race.

Then, there comes that moment where they're in the final laps.

And finally, after an eternity, you hear through your headphones with a huge smile on your lips: Started third on the grid, the Sapphire Prince, is the man of Monza! The tifosi are roaring him home! And for the second time in his career Aemond Targaryen is the winner of the Italian Grand Prix!

Everyone in the garage applauds and hugs each other excitedly, while you watch through the screens as Aemond celebrates and runs towards all his people waiting for him at the starting line, while all the Tifosi out there are shouting and celebrating.

Your dad next to you shakes a few hands, while you continue to watch all the celebration, feeling very happy for him.

You don't expect him to come here. It's impossible. He has interviews to give and he also needs some rest. Then he has to go up to the podium and celebrate. You don't know if you will see him again, but you know it won't be possible on this day.

And even though the thought makes you feel disappointed, you accept it.

You take off your red headphones and together with your dad, you leave the garage to enjoy the podium. The screams and victories of the tifosi fill the air. From where you are you can't see much, so you walk a little further through the crowd, looking for a better place to witness the awards ceremony.

“Excuse me.”

You hear behind you and someone taps your shoulder, so you stop and turn around, seeing a blonde-haired girl with a tablet in her hands and formal attire.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes?” you say, somewhat confused.

You watch her carefully, as you get the impression you've seen her before, but you can't quite remember where.

“Mr. Targaryen apologizes for not saying goodbye personally,” she says, extending a small card to you, ”But he asked me to deliver this to you. It's the invitation to tonight's victory party. He says he hopes to see you there.”

You take it carefully, surprised. Your gaze rests on the card for a moment before returning to the girl, now remembering that she is his assistant.

And you nod to her gratefully, though your mind is still processing everything that's happening.

“Thank you,” you say, with a small smile.

She nods politely and disappears into the crowd, leaving you with the invitation in your hands. The tumult of tifosi, the shouts and general joy seem to fade for a moment, as if the whole world is focused solely on that card and what it implies.

You glance at your dad, who throws you a questioning look and you, for your part, hold up the card with a slight blush coloring your cheeks.

“That boy likes you, doesn't he?” your dad finally says.

“Dad,” you say embarrassed, not being able to help but grin like a fool.

“You could see it all over his face when you were talking in the garage.”

You let out a small laugh.

“Will you come with me?” you ask him to somehow avoid the subject.

“Me?” he inquires pointing to himself, ”The winner of the race has asked for you. Not for me.”

“Dad,” you reproach him softly.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, my love,” he smiles at you, ”I like that boy.”

'Oh God.'

The night in Monza is perfect.

The lights of the buildings and establishments near the ocean reflect on the water like glints of falling stars and in front of you, docked at one of the most exclusive piers, is the luxurious three-deck yacht where the Ferrari victory party is being held.

From this distance, you can already feel the atmosphere of celebration, laughter, music and the sound of glasses clinking.

You watch the walkway that connects the dock to the imposing yacht, uncertain. You also watch as people continue to arrive at the party, people who look important with their fine clothes and expensive accessories.

And seeing everything, as well as the people already aboard the yacht, you feel insecure.

You mean, you don't feel inferior, this is your world. It's nothing you're not used to. Besides, Aemond Targaryen himself has invited you. However, the feeling of being an outsider among all those people who already know each other is what makes you feel insecure.

You just hope that once you're up there, you won't be all alone.

Finally, you take a deep breath, adjust your dress, steel yourself and walk up there. You wait for the people in front of you to move forward, who are being held back by security men.

You wait patiently and step forward when it's your turn.

“Good evening, miss,” the big man says kindly and you nod with a small smile, ”Name?”

You tell him your name and he checks on the list he has in hand, then nods and gestures to the men behind him to let you in.

“Welcome. Enjoy the party.”

“Thank you.”

The second floor of the yacht is a spectacle in itself, with marble floors, crystal chandeliers hanging like cascades of light, and walls decorated in a modern but warm design.

All around you, animated conversations fill the air, interspersed with the soft clinking of glasses and background music. Guests are spread out on different levels, forming small groups of family, friends and team members.

As you advance, one of the waiters offers you a glass of champagne from a tray and you thank him kindly, taking it.

You continue on your way while looking around, looking for a corner where you won't be in the way. So you head to the small bar, while you pick up your phone, looking at the notifications on your screen and read some messages from your college friend.

You're already there?

Praying for something to finally happen with the sexy driver🙏🏽

Girl, you've got him totally crazy!

You let out a small chuckle under your breath and reply to her message, telling her that you doubt anything will happen because there are too many people. And she quickly replies to you not to be negative, fingers crossed.

You are about to respond when, suddenly, you feel a peculiar and intense gaze fixed on you. And as if you are used to it, you recognize him instantly. You know it's him. Excitement takes hold of you and you turn slowly, looking around you.

And there, a few meters away, next to a group of people, is Aemond.

Pants and a formal black shirt, highlighting his silver hair and the beautiful color of his eyes, as well as his expensive branded watch and a silver chain around his neck, he watches you with a discreet smile and his burning gaze on you.

He looks so handsome and so elegant, that your nerves completely overcome you. But you compose yourself, telling yourself that you just have to be yourself.

When your gazes meet, he says a brief goodbye to those around him and starts walking towards you with a confident stride, as you wait for him with a small soft smile on your lips.

“You came,” he says placing himself in front of you, smiling at you.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you tell him softly, “And congratulations on the victory. It was amazing to see you win, especially here in Italy. The people love you.”

“Thank you. The tifosi are unique. But today they made it special.”

His words, though simple, are loaded with meaning. There is a brief comfortable silence between you, broken by his gaze that seems to study you carefully.

“Also…” he says suddenly, leaning a little closer, his voice taking on a more serious and personal tone, ”I think I've found my lucky charm.”

This catches you off guard and instantly, heat rises to your cheeks before you can control it. Aemond smiles at your reaction, his lips curving into an expression that mixes amusement and tenderness.

“So you meant it,” you tell him softly.

“Of course I meant it,” he tells you, slightly confused, ”You didn't believe me?”

“Yes I did,” you confess, ”But I always had a suspicion that maybe that's what you always tell your conquests.”

He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“No.”

Then he takes a step closer to you, the space between you reduced to almost nothing. And he speaks again, his voice low and soft, laden with a sincerity you feel in every word.

“Only to the pretty girl that I first saw in the paddock at Monaco.”

The way the words slip out so naturally, they disarm you and take your breath away. The intensity of his gaze, that mix of curiosity and as if he's making sure you understand what he really wants to tell you, creates a brief silence between you. Not awkward, but charged with a connection that seems to speak for itself.

“I-I—

“Darling.”

A voice comes toward you, breaking the moment and the silence, as you and Aemond turn your heads instantly, seeing a brown-haired woman with a tall black-haired man at her side.

“Mom,” Aemond says to her at your side.

“Sorry to interrupt but they need you to take some pictures,” she tells him in a soft voice.

Her name is Alicent. You saw her in pictures when you googled Aemond and in person, she is even more beautiful. Her elegant demeanor and intense gaze make it immediately clear that she is a woman accustomed to this kind of event.

And waiting for Aemond to speak, she watches you with a small warm smile and you return it, again feeling instantly nervous.

“Mom, this is Y/N,” Aemond introduces you, “Y/N, my mom Alicent and family friend, Criston,” he points to the man next to him.

“Pleasure to meet you, dear,” she says, extending a hand toward you.

“The pleasure is mine,” you reply, trying to sound as calm as she seems, shaking her hand.

You shake the man's hand as well, smiling kindly.

“She comes from France. She and her dad have come to the races,” Aemond tells her.

“Oh, nice,” she nods, “And your dad has come too?”

“No, he's resting,” you tell her softly, ”We fly back to France tomorrow.”

“Oh, then another time I will have the pleasure of meeting him. What is his name?”

You tell her his name and at that moment, you know what she is doing. In this world, it is of relevance to know what kind of people the driver is interacting with. It's obvious she wants to make sure her son isn't around just any girl and after Alys Rivers, you suppose all the more reason.

And honestly, you don't blame her. Your mom and dad are exactly the same. They want to see you next to a man who is on the same level as you or more, who can contribute. So it's no surprise but still, it makes you nervous.

“I'll be there in a moment,” Aemond tells her, over the photos, “I'll continue to introduce Y/N.”

“Don't be too long.”

She walks away along with that man and he starts directing you around the second floor of the yacht, pointing you out to his coworkers, telling you their names along with a few friends and distant relatives.

“She's my sister, Helaena,” he points out to you in the distance to a beautiful girl with silver hair, talking to a girl with black hair, “She comes with me on every race. She's in love with Oscar Piastri.”

You let out a small laugh, as you both slowly make your way over to her.

“I didn't see her in the garage.”

“She was in another section. She doesn't really like being in the garage,” he explains to you.

“And you have other siblings?”

As if you didn't know.

“Two brothers, Aegon and Daeron,” he nods, ”Aegon is the eldest and doesn't like to draw attention to himself. He decided to live his life quietly, away from all the press, social media and events, but he still supports me. Daeron is the one who wants to become a driver and for now he's practicing.”

“And he's the youngest?” you ask attentively.

“Yes,” he nods, “We have another sister, half sister actually. But we don't see her much, we're not very close to her and her own family. Still she supports us.”

The two approach towards Helaena and you are instantly captivated by her presence. She seems an absolute contrast to her mother, looking more like Aemond. Her silver hair falls in soft waves and her gaze has a dreamy gleam to it, as do her eyes.

“Hel,” her brother calls to her.

Helaena turns to you instantly, her lips curving into a sincere, warm smile.

“Oh, hi.”

“This is Y/N.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you extend your hand to her.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, shaking your hand.

“Targaryen,” speaks a fourth voice.

The three of you turn your heads and see a man dressed just as formally as the other men here. He says nothing, just watches Aemond and he seems to understand instantly, turning to his sister and you.

“I have to go talk to some people,” he says, then turns to Helaena, ”I'll leave her with you, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I'll be back soon,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Sure,” you nod, trying not to show how much that gesture affects you.

He leaves and you are left alone with Helaena, who smiles at you.

“Come,” she says kindly, leading you to the railing on the second floor of the yacht.

You follow her, enjoying your glass of champagne, as the soft clinking of glasses and distant laughter fills the air. Afterwards, the two of you lean against the railing, gazing at the lights of Monza reflecting off the water.

“Monza is beautiful, isn't it?” she asks you.

“Yes,” you nod, admiring the scenery, ”Really beautiful.”

She sighs.

“I wish it could all be like this,” she says delusionally, longingly, ”Just enjoying the world, without all these sophisticated people, the parties, the press and the constant pressure. Sometimes I feel like I'll never get used to it.”

“Really?” you look at her in surprise, ”But your family has always dominated this world.”

She laughs softly.

“Well… yes, of course, since my father's time,” she nods, “And now Aemond… in his early days, it wasn't easy. He just couldn't quite fit in with so much attention and so many eyes on him, until he did. Now he seems so flawless, so confident that even Daeron is following in his footsteps as well. But I…” she shrugs, “Despite growing up in all of this, I've never felt like I quite fit in.”

“You don't seem to,” you say, sincere, ”You have a very… calm presence. Like nothing can affect you.”

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, ”Though I think that's more because I live in my own world most of the time.”

“It must be hard,” you murmur, admiring her honesty.

“It is,” she nods. “But it has its moments, too. When I'm traveling with Aemond, I feel like I can do something for him. Support him, be there when he needs it. That makes it all worthwhile.”

That makes you smile.

You thought about asking her why she didn't choose to walk away, just like her brother Aegon. But now that she has spoken to you like that about Aemond, you have an idea why she didn't.

You wish you could understand her better too, but you have no brothers or sisters. You're an only child and your dad's only heir.

“And speaking of my little brother… what's up with you and him?” she asks you interestedly, smiling softly.

This catches you off guard and again your cheeks burn, lowering your gaze for a moment.

“N-no, nothing,” you say nervously, ”We've barely met.”

“Still, he doesn't invite hardly anyone to these parties,” she points around, “He doesn't invite just anyone to watch the race in his garage either. Especially not anyone who isn't from the team or family.”

You take a sip of your champagne, nervous and blushing.

“Well… maybe he meant to be nice.”

“Maybe,” she cocks her head, ”But Aemond doesn't do anything just out of kindness. If you're here, it's because he wants you to be here.”

You watch her intently and curiously, that especially getting your attention.

“He's really not playing games with me?”

“No,” she smiles softly “Aemond can be… intense,” she confesses to you, “But he's a good man.”

The next few minutes, Helaena's company is delightful. You both talk about everything; the tifosi, Formula One circuits, some travel, anecdotes about her family, she asks you about yours too and you both get to know each other better. It's easy to chill out in her company and she doesn't make you feel lonely.

She also introduces you to a couple of people, making you feel more comfortable and included.

You see Aemond in different parts talking to different groups of people. He looks busy and also taking pictures, so you don't bother him. You continue touring the party with Helaena, even taking a couple of pictures and enjoying different cocktails.

Afterwards, Helaena is asked to take some pictures too, so she leaves you alone for a few moments. While she finishes, you decide to go up to the terrace on the third floor, where there are no people, to clear your head a little.

With a mojito in hand, you lean against the railing, admiring the view. The cool breeze caresses your face and, for a moment, the hustle and bustle of the party seems a distant echo.

You think the same as Helaena; you wish you could stay like this forever. But tomorrow you have to go back to France, to college and take care of your responsibilities.

“Running away from the party?”

Aemond's voice pulls you out of your thoughts, not expecting to hear him. Turning, you see him in front of you, his hands shoved in his front pockets and his gaze fixed on you.

“Not exactly,” you reply, smiling softly, ”I just needed some air.”

“Hm,” he says, then approaches you with nonchalant movements, placing himself next to you “You scared me for a moment,” he says as he admires the view, “I thought you were gone.”

You frown slightly, curious.

“Why?”

He shrugs.

“I don't know, it's too many people down there,” he points with his gaze, leaning against the railing, ”It can be overwhelming.”

You understand what he means and honestly… it surprises you.

There's something in his tone, in the way he's there with you, that makes you feel like this is the real Aemond, away from the cameras and the expectations. And you can't help but wonder; is he feeling this too?

This… whatever it is, so sudden, unexpected but intense and real.

You don't know what he's done to you. You're so interested in him. Too much. And not because of his job, his money, his importance and name recognition. But for just him and this side of him that he rarely shows to everyone.

You feel wanted for him. And you want him too.

“I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye,” you say, your tone soft but firm.

Aemond turns slightly to you, studying your face with that look that seems to disarm you every time.

“Tomorrow you return to France,” he says, his voice laden with something that sounds like resignation.

You nod slowly, averting your gaze to the water for a moment, trying to hide the mix of emotions boiling inside you.

“Yes,” you murmur, trying not to sound disappointed.

The thought of not knowing when you'll see him again, if ever, makes you feel more disappointed than you expected.

The schedule goes on. He has to keep working, keep racing in different parts of the world, attending interviews and races almost constantly, practicing and training. And you, you have to go home, focus on college and now update through social media about him and the results of each race.

And you can't be constantly traveling to the cities where the races will take place. You can't neglect your responsibilities.

“I have to go back to college,” you say later, forcing a smile that you hope will make the conversation lighter, ”Attend some of my dad's work events and all that.”

“What are you studying?” he asks you interestedly, cocking his head to the side.

“Business management.”

He nods, with that little sideways grin on his lips.

“Sure, how I didn't think of it.”

You let out a small laugh.

“It was obvious.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You both laugh softly, as the sound of conversations down there and the music slowly fades like a distant echo, making this little space of the two of you, alone and with this beautiful view, more enjoyable and comfortable.

“Well, that makes sense. But it sure can't be as bad as being on the road almost all the time, having to talk to a lot of people a day, attending events, taking pictures and having people recording everything you do either at work or on the street.”

You look at him, studying the contours of his face in the dim moonlight. There is something in his tone, a kind of hidden vulnerability, that he rarely allows himself to show.

“No, maybe not,” you murmur honestly, ”But still, it's exhausting to always maintain a good image at all these events and to be smiling all the time. You're seen as the most important, influential people with so much money and power that you simply can't make a single mistake.”

He is silent for a moment, as are you.

Equal worlds, different circumstances.

You both understand each other. There is nothing about each other's world that you are not used to. You understand all the attention that's on him, as well as the pressure and expectations, just as you are, in your business world.

“And yet, I can imagine you leading something important,” he says next, getting your attention.

His comment, as unexpected as it is sincere, warms your chest. And you smile softly, lowering your gaze. You are about to say something when he speaks again, leaning slightly toward you, watching you with renewed interest.

“Will I see you again?” he asks, his tone lower and more attentive.

Your lips part, but the words don't come out right away. You don't know what to say to him because, honestly, you don't know.

“I don't know,” you murmur, watching him intently.

“You don't know?” he repeats, his voice almost a whisper.

There's something about his tone, softer, sensual and almost hypnotic, that makes the air feel heavier. You can't help but swallow, caught in the intensity of his gaze.

He takes a small step toward you, and though you could back away, you don't. The little distance between the two of you begins to shorten imperceptibly, as if something larger and you don't understand is pulling you toward each other.

“Remember, you're my lucky charm,” he says, leaning toward you, ”And I need it.”

The confession takes your breath away, but you don't have time to process it. And before you can say anything, with alarms in your head going off to keep you from passing out, you don't know who closes the distance first, him or you.

But the next thing you know and you feel, it's his lips on yours.

A slow kiss that starts soft and exploratory, with Aemond testing the waters, trying to know if it's what you want too. And you lean closer to him, lifting your hands and placing your arms around his neck, being signal enough.

Time seems to stand still. The sound of the sea, the distant music of the party, everything dissolves. The only thing that matters is the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his hands wrap around your waist in a firm and demanding way, drawing you even closer to him.

Your fingers, stroking his silver hair, and you cling to him as if you fear this moment could vanish at any moment.

You completely forget where you are, you completely forget about the party and you both simply focus on that moment. That moment… where it all began.

The next day, you had to return home, but the distance was not an obstacle. Communication with Aemond was not lacking.

He had to keep racing and you followed him at all times through the social media, you also talked to him by text or FaceTime, where you not only talked about work, but also about seeing each other again.

The break time between races varied. Sometimes it was a week, sometimes two, or even a month, and during those times, you both took the opportunity to see each other. Whether it was him visiting you in France or you traveling to London.

Soon, you started attending some of his races. You were excited to watch him compete, but you weren't prepared for the attention that began to surround you.

The media noticed your presence in the Ferrari garage, where you were always with your red headphones on, following Aemond's every move. Cameras caught more than once moments of you talking, laughing or sharing glances at post-race parties.

Ferrari fans and especially Aemond's followers began to speculate who you were. The interwebs were filled with questions, theories and pictures of you in the paddock.

At first, the photos were just captures of the two of you talking or walking together. They never took a video or a compromising photo of you with him, but everything changed the day someone captured the moment you kissed him before a race.

The video was posted almost instantly and social media exploded.

Then, there was no longer any doubt that you weren't the new girl he was dating. People had already found your Instagram and you decided to make it official, posting a picture with Aemond.

It didn't take long for the attention to intensify. People not only wanted to know who you were, but they started digging into every aspect of your life: your age, your country of origin, what you studied, your parents' jobs and their names.

Messages of support started pouring in, as well as messages of hate and criticism. It was something Aemond told you about from the beginning.

It was no surprise and eventually you stopped caring if people accepted you or not, nor what they might think and say about you because you both know what you are worth, not just for being his girlfriend, but for yourself.

And so people not only started to recognize you, but also to call you wag.

At every race, when they saw you in the Ferrari garage with the red headphones, the cameras would focus on you. On the giant screen, your name would appear next to his: Aemond Targaryen's Partner.

At first, you were uncomfortable with the attention, but gradually you realized that it didn't matter what others thought.

The only thing that mattered was what you shared with him, that bond that had begun on a magical night and that, against all odds, grew stronger with each passing day.

The British Grand Prix.

Every Formula One fan in the world is looking forward to the next big race at Silverstone, which starts in less than five hours.

You stretch as you yawn and immediately feel your boyfriend's strong arms around you holding you close to his body, still in his sleep.

You smile softly and turn your body towards him. His face is inches from yours, his eyes closed and breathing softly. You leave a soft kiss on his lips and then bury your face between his chest and neck, inhaling his clean, masculine scent, so characteristic of him and completely comforting.

You know today is a great day. He knows too. So there will be a lot of pressure today, both on him and on the whole team.

“You have to get up, my love,” you say finally, knowing he's not awake but not fully asleep either.

“Mgh,” he says reproachfully and sleepily, locking you more firmly in his arms.

You let out a small laugh.

“Come on. Today's a big day.”

“I don't want to,” he says in his hoarse voice, “Five more minutes.”

“Frederic will kill you,” you warn him amused, “And I don't want to be left single.”

He doesn't say anything. In fact he doesn't even move anymore, because he's trying to go back to his sleep. And you sit up a little, lying on top of his body, starting to run your lips all over his face, leaving resounding kisses.

“Hm,” he murmurs, his eyes closed.

“Come on,” you croon.

“No,” he says like a little boy, pouting.

You repeatedly kiss his cheek, then his forehead, his eyelids, his nose and finally his lips, not stopping and more in a way to tease him.

“That feels good,” he murmurs afterwards.

You let out a small laugh.

“Should work.”

Your next target is his neck and the moment your lips brush the skin of that area, you instantly feel his skin bristle and he cocks his head, giving you more access.

“You're not exactly making me want to get up with this, Y/N.”

You raise your gaze to him, with a smile.

“I'm not?”

“Hm…” he murmurs, placing his hands on your waist, ”No.”

“I have my ways.”

You sit up and swing one of your legs over his hip, sitting on top of him. You place both of your hands on his bare chest and this particular action gets his attention, finally getting him to open his sleepy eyes.

You smile like an angel and lean into him. As he watches you curiously and suddenly interested.

“This is supposed to make me want to get up?” he inquires you, now slightly amused.

“Did it work?”

“Well, I'm awake now. But for me to want to get up, having you on my lap like this, of course not.”

You let out a laugh, bringing your lips close to his, nuzzling his nose with yours.

“And how do you have me, exactly?” you murmur.

“So beautiful completely naked,” he says hoarsely.

“But you've woken up, haven't you?”

“You reminded me of what we did last night.”

He tells you in a completely different tone, and as you watch his eyes, you see that glint in his gaze.

You smile softly, looking him straight in the eye, not taking your gaze from his, to again sit up, still sitting on top of him, allowing him to have a perfect view of your bare breasts, right in front of him.

You push your hair aside so it doesn't get in the way of the view and he immediately groans. His burning, intense, desire-filled gaze makes you feel completely sexy and desired.

He purses his lips, his pupil dilated in desire, watching you completely, as if it's the first time he's seen you like this.

“We don't have much time,” you tell him later, leaning into him again.

“Five minutes seems enough to me,” he says, taking you by the waist, ”The perfect time to repeat last night.”

You don't reproach, you don't refuse, and you immediately accept his kiss.

He leans into you too, where one of his large, firm hands takes you by the nape of your neck to hold you exactly where he wants you, kissing you deeply and slowly.

You gasp softly into his mouth and bring both hands to his neck, clinging to him completely, moving your lips in rhythm with his. Then his tongue makes its way inside your mouth, making you feel a curious sensation in your lower belly.

It doesn't help that you're naked, completely. And the only thing he's wearing at the moment are his boxers.

You feel how your desire increases every second for wanting to feel his closeness, also that little tingle in your between your legs. You kiss him with more need, enjoying his warm, consuming lips, not wanting to stop and needing more.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps into your mouth.

You settle better into his lap, specifically just above his friend, where you instantly feel the hardness beneath the fabric of his boxers.

“Someone's already awake too,” you croon against his lips.

Aemond moans into your lips, feeling that heat expand in his chest again, just as he feels a fire begin to grow inside him. Not wanting to waste any more time, he holds you more firmly by the waist, wanting to lift you up and place you under him.

But noticing his intentions, you stop him instantly, placing your hand on your chest and pushing him back, leaving him right where he is, him against the mattress and you on top of him.

“Stop right there.”

“What?” he looks at you confused.

“Stay like this,” you tell him softly, ”Just this once.”

He doesn't understand at first, since he's usually the one who always takes control, because that's how he likes it and that's what he's used to. It's not like you weren't in control before either, but only for a few moments and then he does all the work.

Although… now, the idea of you being in complete control, he doesn't dislike.

“Now do you want to lead the race?” he asks you with a smile, placing both hands back on your waist.

“I want to take care of the winner of the race,” you tell him with the same tone he is using, amused and mischievous, ”Give him his trophy. Because he deserves it.”

Without wiping away his smile, he begins to trace small circles on the skin of your waist with both hands, moving down your thighs and the cheeks of your ass from time to time.

“The race hasn't happened yet.”

“But we already know who will win,” you say condescendingly.

“So we're celebrating in advance?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Yes.”

“And if I lose?”

You lean toward him, watching his lips.

“You're still the champion to me.”

With your hand around the edge of his jaw, you pull his face close to yours to kiss him again. His warm, moist mouth welcomes you back, kissing you needily and deeply with wet sounds.

His hands gently caress your curves as you again settle on top of him, with purpose. And both he and you moan as your naked pussy rubs against his covered cock, demanding to be released so it can be properly serviced.

You slide one of your hands down his neck, inhaling deeply to reciprocate his demanding kisses, as he continues with his hands on your hips, squeezing and rubbing you against him, letting you feel what's happening inside his boxers.

You let out a moan as you feel his stiff, hard, hot cock beneath you rub against you, where instantly your juices begin to flow and you feel your pussy begin to throb, sending waves of aching pleasure throughout your body, needing something inside you, soon.

“Hm,” Aemond gasps into your mouth.

Then he pulls his lips away from yours and begins to leave soft, wet kisses down your neck, starting a trail, making you gasp loudly and tilt your head to the side to give him more accessibility.

You begin to roll your hips on top of him and he grunts into your neck, then squeezes both cheeks of your ass and move harder on top of him back and forth, needing that friction for his relief.

You bite your bottom lip and moan, closing your eyes, feeling your desire coursing through you.

“So pretty, so fucking sexy,” he murmurs hoarsely, his warm breath hitting your bare skin.

You lower your gaze to him with your parted lips and breathing hard, still moving, watching as he focuses on your breasts and brings both of his hands to cup each one, kneading them in gentle motions, making you moan and arch your back towards him.

“I love my trophy,” he says to then take a nipple into his mouth.

He knows exactly how you like it when he licks and kisses your nipples with need, grunting in between his licks.

“Yes, like that, p-please,” you whimper, arching your back more and bringing one of your hands to his hair to push his face further against your breasts.

“Yeah? Like this, baby?” he says sensuously against your skin, to again draw your nipple into his mouth as he kneads your other breast with possessive, demanding motions.

“Yes, like this,” you say in gasps.

At the same time, you stop your movements and raise your hips a little, bringing one of your hands to touch his cock above his boxers.

Aemond's breath catches and he stops licking your nipple, continuing to knead your breasts as he watches you with his lust-filled eyes and parted lips.

Finally, you free his huge, hard, hot cock from his underwear and immediately wrap one of your hands around it from the base, caressing it with deep, long strokes.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, watching you all the while with pleasure and utter voraciousness, especially feeling that pleasure every time your thumb brushes his sensitive, red tip.

Aemond bites his lower lip as he watches your entire naked body. He shamelessly watches your pussy glistening with your juices, then your face and finally your perfect breasts with the two hard nipples that make his cock throb in a painful but delicious way at the same time.

At least he's getting relief and friction from how you're touching him, but he needs more.

“I can't take it anymore,” he tells you, breathing hard, ”I need to be inside you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod immediately.

He sits up a little, his face right in front of your breasts, reaching out and sneaking one of his hands straight to your exposed pussy, stroking his long, pale fingers up and down your entrance, checking how wet you are.

“Oh, fuck,” he says with recognition, pleased, “You're dripping, baby. All this for me, right?” he lifts his gaze to you, still touching you.

He brushes his lips against yours, as he curves his fingers and they enter you, making you gasp into his mouth as you feel the ease in which they have entered you, so slick they make you close your eyes in pleasure, moaning.

“My pretty girl,” he murmurs fondly, “So good for me, ready to squeeze my cock in your pretty pussy, aren't you?”

“Yes,” you moan, then he kisses you deeply.

You wiggle your hips against his hand, needing that and more from him, but for now settling. No sooner does your boyfriend break the kiss, however, than he also stops inserting his fingers into you and instead brings them to his cock, soaking its red tip with your juices.

You bring his hand also to the base of his cock, stroking its tip with the lips of your pussy, moving your hips back and forth without taking it inside you yet, biting your lip.

“Fuck,” Aemond says in a whisper.

He bites his lower lip as he watches the way you play with him. Then he places both hands on either side of your body, watching you expectantly and in pleasure.

The feeling of relief makes a pleasure run through his whole body, accompanying the fact of seeing you like this; your slightly sweaty body, your perfect breasts with both hard nipples and your expressions of pleasure that only he causes in you.

Then, slowly, still holding the base of his cock against your pussy, you begin to descend, entering all of him in you.

“Oh m-my god, Aemond,” you moan loudly, feeling him open all of you as you close your eyes in complete delight.

You both moan and grunt deliciously. The sensation is too delicious and makes you feel wetter and wetter.

Aemond grunts and holds you tightly by the waist, letting out shuddering sighs, watching the way your pussy squeezes him all over.

“Squeezing me so fucking good," Aemond moans, "Fuck, baby."

“So good,” you praise, completely drunk with pleasure, ”So fucking good.”

Only he fills you like this, being exactly what you need. And without waiting any longer, you begin to move your hips against him.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” he growls, ”Just like that.”

He lifts both hands and fondles your breasts, giving your hard buds attention with his tongue as you begin to bounce on his cock.

You gasp and moan at the sensation of his cock thrusting in and out of you and his hands caressing and kneading your breasts with possessive movements that send shivers down your spine.

You continue to move back and forth, moaning his name, feeling his warm breath against your breasts. You lower your gaze to him and watch as he releases your nipple with a wet pop and looks down at you with that twinkle in his eyes, still kneading them.

“Do you like it, baby?”

“Yes,” you murmur, rocking your hips on his cock, ”I love it.”

He takes the other nipple into his mouth, giving it the same attention as the last, as you moan at the delicious sensation.

Then he releases it with a wet pop and kisses you, as he moves his hands down to your ass, kneading both cheeks and squeezing the skin appreciatively, while you this time move your hips harder.

He grunts again and lets out a curse in your ear, hugging you tightly around the waist as you bounce on top of his cock.

You feel only more surges of pleasure that his cock calms as you watch his gorgeous face smooth but slightly contracted from intense pleasure, with a few strands of his short hair sticking to his forehead from his light sweat, looking so sexy.

Each drag of the head of his cock sends electricity throughout your body and a feeling of euphoria. His breathing is just as fast as yours, also hearing the slapping of your ass against his thighs each time you push him deep inside you again.

“That's it, baby. Just like that, fuck,” Aemond's voice cracks with a growl, from the intense sensations.

“Yes, yes,” you moan in his ear.

You rock against him, tightening around his big cock every time your skins meet.

“Fuck, you're so fucking tight,” he moans, moving slightly to get a better angle, “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

And the next thing he does as he feels your walls contract around him, he wraps his arms around you and clasps his warm hands around you from the small of your back, grunts and begins to accompany your movements as he too thrusts his hips upward in hard, fast thrusts.

The air completely disappears from your lungs again and you moan louder.

“Fuck!” you whimper, closing your eyes in complete pleasure, ”Oh my-”

“I'm not going to last long the way you're squeezing me, baby,” he growls.

Your pussy squeezes him harder, making him grunt and curse with his brows furrowed in concentration, his cheeks flushed with heat and his lips half-open, breathing hard.

“Fuck, fuck,” you say quickly, clinging to him tighter in desperation.

He is driving you to the edge of the abyss, as he continues to ram your G-spot repeatedly and at the same time you feel one of his hands descend between your legs and begin to stroke his thumb over your bud with just enough pressure to make you moan and feel more pleasure on the verge of exploding.

“You've fucking ruined me,” he tells you between grunts and gasps, ”This is all I'm going to think about the whole race. You, my perfect girl,” he croons in your ear, ‘And my tight, little, perfect pussy."

As if the situation itself couldn't affect you more, his words do and you move with more fervor on top of his cock.

“D-don't say that,” you speak as best you can, “The team needs his driver. Especially to win on his own house. Oh fuck.”

“Believe me, I'm feeling pretty victorious right now.”

You bite your bottom lip and kiss him.

You feel like you're on fire, the sensation engulfing you completely. His hard cock hitting your exact spot is too much and makes you roll your eyes behind your skull.

And with three more strokes of his thumb over your clit, you get goose bumps and collapse on top of him.

You moan his name and every muscle in your body tenses at once, you tingle and your mind goes blank as you let out a high pitched moan louder than the previous ones and you see stars behind your eyes as a wave rolls all over your insides.

You feel the euphoria all over your head and you shake for a moment, almost aching from it all, feeling too much as Aemond continues to fuck you during your orgasm, reaching his own peak.

“Oh, fuck,” you hear him moan and with one last hard lunge, the hot, liquid stream of his cum filling you from the inside.

You watch as he drops his head back, his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed, his cheeks flushed, his skin burning and the light sweat all over his body and forehead. Truly a sight that steals your breath away.

Pleasure burns all over you, it courses through your body and you gasp, breathing hard. Time seems to stop completely, as you both slowly begin to come down from the high, even with him inside you.

Then, you feel him leave a loving kiss on your shoulder, then move up your neck, your face and finally your lips. You laugh softly against his lips as he smiles at you and you kiss him deeply, loosened and weak, just as he does.

But you both know you can't be late for his work today. So once you are both recovered, you get out of bed and get ready for the day.

The time for the race finally starts.

There are cameras everywhere. All the people around the circuit with direct views of all the cars are excited. Fans are dressed in the merch of their favorite teams and holding big banners or flags while shouting the names of their favorite drivers in support.

All the people in charge of projecting the race live make the whole moment more exciting. The entire team of mechanics is ready. All the equipment is ready and the race will start in less than ten minutes.

You are in the garage, as usual, with Helaena at your side. She prefers to be in another section, but considering that you are in her and Aemond's country, she wants to bring all the good luck for her brother to win at home.

Not only she is here, there is also Aemond's mother Alicent with her two brothers, Aegon, who you finally have the pleasure to meet personally, Daeron and his grandfather Otto.

Even Aemond was surprised when they let him know that his older brother would be coming to support him.

That only added to the stress of knowing the great expectations that are upon him on this day, but it also made him happy to know that he will have his whole family supporting him from here.

You watch the screen in front of you, focusing on Aemond inside his red car, positioning himself on the grid just like the other drivers, ready to start the race.

Helaena places a hand on your shoulder in support mode and you smile softly, placing your hand on top of hers, as you both watch the screen that focuses entirely on Aemond.

You are both positive today, even if he doesn't win, everyone knows what a great job he has done and will still be very proud of him.

Aemond's dream has always been to win at Ferrari's home as well as his own in the same year. He has not managed to win at home, this would be the first time if at all.

Starting from fifth place, it's not too bad and you have to hope he can do it.

Then finally all the cars are perfectly positioned on the starting grid. Everyone in the place is attentive and ready. The countdown to the start of the race ends and the lights start to show their colors at the same time you hear through the headphones the voice of the presenters.

“We all set for the start of the British Grand Prix halfway through the 2025 season and… lights out!”

The driver speaks through your headphones and all the people out there scream in excitement as they watch all the cars start, beginning the race.

You watch Aemond intently and hopefully, watching as he takes advantage of passing the drivers in front of him on the starting grid, going from starting fifth, to second.

The applause and cheers are not long in coming, as is everyone in the Ferrari garage and Aemond's family. But they are not singing victory yet. It's only the first lap, fifty-one to go and anything can happen.

You don't know if he's thinking about what you both did this morning even though he said he would. You certainly are as you follow his footsteps across the screen. You can't see his face but when he takes off his helmet and you see him in his sports suit, it sets off all your alarms in you.

But… you know he was thinking about his prize you gave him this morning, when after two hours, you see and hear: “He is about to head to victory as he comes into the final corners here at Silverstone, the crowds are going crazy! Aemond Targaryen wins the British Grand Prix!”

The deafening roar of the crowd fills the air, mingling with the thunderous sound of the engines. The commentator continues to narrate with excitement as your eyes remain fixed on the screen.

Your heart is pounding, watching every movement of the red car representing Ferrari, representing Aemond.

The moment is surreal. You watch as it crosses the finish line, the car glistening in the Silverstone sun as the checkered flag waves. You can barely hear the commentator's voice amidst all the shouting and cheering from the crowd out there.

“Aemond Targaryen takes his first-ever victory at home! The Sapphire Prince has done it!”

The garage erupts in celebration. Everyone hugs, jumps and shouts as if they were the ones behind the wheel. You can't help but smile, eyes shining with pride.

You hug Helaena, Alicent, Aegon, Daeron and shake hands with Otto, as everyone smiles and is congratulated by more team members, proud of Aemond completely, as are you.

Finally the first three places arrive on the grid, Piastri, Verstappen and Targaryen. Photographers pile up, capturing every second, and you can barely contain yourself. You want to run to him, hug him, kiss him, but you hold back… for now.

Finally, you see him get out of the car, strike a pose, strike a pose, celebrate and run to his entire team, launching himself at all of them, as they all scream, celebrate and hug him.

You watch still from the garage, knowing full well that he has to take a drink of water, rest a bit in the middle of all the celebration and do a little interview. Afterwards, he has to wait with the other two winners for the awards ceremony to be ready.

Certainly, you can't get close to him until it's all over. But you see him at all times. Proud, attentive and completely happy.

You watch as he takes off his helmet and his silver hair, now damp from the effort, falls messily over his forehead and the smile he wears makes the air around you become unreal.

Then, you watch with pride as they place the gold medal around his neck, he holds his trophy above his head as he waves and smiles at everyone, finally culminating the award ceremony by opening the bottle of champagne and throwing the foam to his coworkers, at the same time that they also soak him.

And when it's all over… you finally go to him.

You hug him tightly, feeling his heartbeat still racing from the adrenaline of the race. You don't care that they're probably filming you, you just want to kiss him, hug him, celebrate with him, let him know how proud you are of him.

And that's what you do, you kiss him deeply and hold back your tears of emotion.

“You did it,” you say with your contained emotion, placing your forehead against his.

“No, we did,” he tells you, clinging to you with both hands on your waist.

You laugh softly and again kiss him, unable to get enough of him.

After all, he will always be the champion for you and you will always be his lucky charm.