#only max seems to be having a remotely good time
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maxpadelchampion · 4 days ago
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i literally have nothing to say about this Las Vegas gp other than George being +10s, middle school arts and crafts really does work, and Charles’ luck continues to be trash
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maxtermind · 7 months ago
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my boy only breaks his favorite toys
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★ : summary :: when he cheats on you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 5k ★ : a/n :: please remember that all of this is fiction! anyway, enjoy the angst <3 cheating is not a slip up but a statement and i will not be writing a part 2 where they get back together :) as usual requests are open for other endings if you're interested (maybe she ends up with someone else on the grid to make it hurt more lol) ★ : gifs :: @\f1-stuff @\userhamilton @\slowestlap @\tyrannosaurus-maxy
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Max Verstappen
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Max and you had a pretty healthy work schedule. Thanks to your flexible remote work, you could travel with him and support him in person. But there were times when you were needed back at the home office but despite the distance, Max made sure to keep you in the loop.
From video calls, to texting whenever one was free, to random pictures shared, you were always pretty aware of what the other was doing. So imagine your shock when minutes after hanging up on a call after congratulating him on his win, you failed to get a hold of him before pictures of him started going viral.
But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as you stared at the damning evidence on your phone. Pictures of Max, smiling and carefree, dancing with another woman in a crowded club, her arms wrapped around him possessively.
Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. And then, there it was, the blurry photo that confirmed your worst fears - Max and the other woman locked in a passionate kiss.
The world around you seemed to blur as well as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and bitter against your cheeks. Without thinking, you began to dial Max's number, your fingers trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.
But each call went unanswered, each voicemail left unheard. With each unanswered ring, your heart broke a little more, until you could no longer bear the weight of your pain.
It was an hour later when you were in your bed, crying your eyes out when your phone finally lit up with Max's name, the screen casting a harsh glow in the dimness of your room.
As much as your head told you to hang up and let that be the final answer, you picked it up and whispered a low. ”Hi?” Your voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion.
”Y/N,” Max’s breathy voice came. It was enough to throw you off again and new tears gathered in your eyes.
”Where were you?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, raw with hurt and anguish.
”Baby…” Max's voice wavered, and you could hear the weight of his guilt in every syllable. It spoke volumes, you knew what had happened and he knew that. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
Your chest tightened at his words, the pain of his deceit threatening to consume you whole. And then, without warning, a strangled sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the silence of the room.
You could hear Max's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a sound that only served to intensify your grief. But you were beyond caring about appearances now, your heart laid bare for him to see.
”I trusted you,” you choked out between sobs, the words a bitter indictment of the love you had once shared. ”Why would you do this to me?”
How could the man that made you feel like the only girl in the world for him do this to you? Did he even love you or was he just a really good actor?
Your voice quivered with pain as you struggled to maintain your composure,”You've broken me in ways I didn't even know were possible.”
Max's voice wavered as he tried to find the right words to express his remorse,”I never meant to hurt you, it was the biggest mistake of my life.” 
The life he has made sure he spent with someone not you. His voice cracked further and you realized that he was also crying on the other end. ”I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life.”
There was a long pause, as if Max was searching for the right words to say. But what words could possibly undo the damage that had already been done, the trust that had been shattered beyond repair?
Your words cut through him, echoing the pain he had caused,”Did… did you even love me, Max?”
”Of course, I love you!” He spoke, his voice carrying a sense of hurt. As if questioning the audacity to even ask that and that angered you. It made you so mad because this was on him. He did this.
”I wish I could turn back time and make things right, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Max's breath hitched as he spoke before you could. The wounds he had inflicted too deep to be healed with a simple apology. ”I never meant to make you doubt my love for you.”
And as you listened to his voice crack with emotion, you knew that there was only one thing left to do. ”I don't even recognize the person I fell in love with anymore.” You whispered with finality, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.
Was this really the man who had promised you a future filled with a family and laughter? The man who just made your heart bleed out?
Max caught on and rushed to get the words out,”Please, Y/N, don't hang up. I need you more than ever, I love y-”
You hung up because how dare he say that after what he did. He called you again and again after that and if you weren’t half dying in your apartment, maybe you could’ve scoffed at how the roles were switched.
However, all you could do was switch off your phone and wonder how the man who once kissed all your scars better, could leave deeper ones in their place. Leaving you to do the work to mend them all alone.
Lewis Hamilton
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It had all started the day you had foolishly decided to set up lunch to have the two most important people in your life, your bestfriend and your boyfriend, meet.
Lewis seemed genuinely enthusiastic about finally meeting the person who had been such a solid support in your life. Little did you anticipate that this innocent gathering would unravel into a scene of deception.
The signs were subtle at first. A quick exchange of numbers, a glance shared behind your back– easy to dismiss as innocent. But why would you look for such signs? When it included your most trusted humans on the planet?
But then came the slips, the accidental mentions of knowing each other's whereabouts better than you did.
”I don't think she'll pick up, she said she had an afternoon meeti-” Lewis caught himself on time before shrugging and ending with a: ”She posted it on her instagram, did you miss it?”
You laughed it off though it irked you. You were just glad that they were close before...
After an especially tiring day, you finally entered your house. Surprised to see the sitting room empty, where Lewis waits for you every time he's home early.
You sighed, instinctively petting Roscoe before moving inside the house. Desperate for a shower and clean clothes to get the day's stench off of you.
So imagine your shock when you walked into your bedroom,to discover Lewis and Rachel entwined in your bed, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. In your bed.
It took a second for you to process it while they both scrambled to get their clothes on. You just stared in disbelief while Rachel cried on the bed under covers and Lewis frantically wore his clothes while saying… something?
You felt like you were underwater for a second because you saw his mouth moving before his words started registering and tears started to pool in your eyes. The pain felt tangible, like a weight pressing down on your chest, as you confronted the unthinkable reality of their infidelity.
”Baby, let me explain. Ple- Please, this isn't what it looks like... I-”
You tore your eyes away from him before looking over at Rachel who was crying because she probably understood exactly what was happening.
You wanted to ask what exactly Lewis thought was going on but decided not to because your throat was closing up. The image of them together was burned into your brain. You just shook your head as tears fell from your eyes before turning around and walking out of the room.
As Lewis desperately jumbled to dress himself, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, he pleaded with you, his voice cracking with desperation.
”Y/N, please, you have to listen to me. This isn't what it looks like, I swear,” he implored, his eyes wide with panic as he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away as if his touch burned. Feeling disgusted and deceived.
”What do you mean it's not what it looks like?!” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with damage and betrayal. ”I come home to find you two... in our bed, na- naked!”
Lewis's face contorted in anguish, his mind racing for the right words to say, but nothing seemed adequate in the face of your devastation.
”It's... it's a misunderstanding, Y/N, I promise,” he stammered, his voice strained with emotion. ”Rachel and I... we didn't plan for this to happen. It's just... things got out of hand, and we never meant to do you wrong.”
You shook your head in disbelief because you didn’t know what else to do truly, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. ”How could you do this to me, Lewis? I thought you… that you loved me,” your voice turned in a whisper.
All the times he had discussed the future rushed through your mind. He wanted to retire and repeatedly told you how he wanted to marry you. Your hands trembled as you suddenly remembered asking Rachel to be your bridesmaid.
Suddenly, the pressure on your chest got worse.
Lewis's eyes pleaded with you, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. ”I don't know, Y/N. I don't know what came over me. I love you, you have to believe me. Please don't leave, we can work through this together.”
But his words fell on deaf ears as you turned away from him, the pain in your heart too raw to bear. ”I trusted you, Lewis. I trusted both of you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
As you moved towards the door, every step heavier than the last, Lewis's voice trembled with desperation, his hands reaching out to grasp yours, pleading for your attention.
”Y/N, please, don't leave,” he begged, his voice cracking with raw emotion. ”I messed up, I know I did, but I love you. Please, let me make it right.”
You paused, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ”How can you say you love me after what you did?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, thick with pain.
And with that, you turned away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the life you had once shared, the echoes of Lewis's pleas fading into the emptiness of the night. Swearing to never put your trust in anyone else ever again.
Carlos Sainz
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You had sworn off of relationships for so long after your last one that it was honestly a miracle, as your friends and family put it, that you agreed to go out with Carlos. But he was the perfect gentleman to you. The person who gave you hope for a better future. Giving you hope that maybe all the ‘cheesy’ discourse was for you too.
He knew how you were hurt the last time and reassured you about how special you were to him and how you were always enough. Enough for him.
It slowly became a running joke once you guys hit the two year mark. You were finally at a stage where you had a loving partner that you could trust blindly.
So to say that you were blindsided would be an understatement…
Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through Carlos's phone, your heart racing with each new message that appeared on the screen.
You never thought you'd be the type to snoop, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach had become too much to ignore. He was so distant lately and so secretive about his phone, it was slowly killing you.
There it was, undeniable proof staring back at you in blue and white. Messages from an unknown number, filled with suggestive language and promises of secrecy. Your breath got caught in your throat as you read through the damning evidence, your heart sinking with each word.
‘Hey babe, can't wait to see you tonight ;) xoxo’
The message hit you like a punch to the gut, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Carlos do this to you? You thought you had something special, something worth fighting for. But now, all those hopes and dreams lay shattered at your feet.
You tried to push down the rising tide of emotion, to find some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But deep down, you knew the truth – Carlos was cheating on you.
When he emerged from the bathroom, you were waiting for him, phone in hand and tears in your eyes. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
”Carlos,” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy in the air as he stepped into the room, his tousled hair and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.
You weren’t really sure why you weren’t screaming and thrashing things around already. It was like you were frozen on the spot.
”What's wrong?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he took in your tear-streaked face and the phone clutched tightly in your hand. Though, when you looked at him, all you could see was how he was your everything. How you had given him your everything.
And you still weren’t enough.
You struggled to find the words, to articulate the emotions coursing through you. ”I found... I found something on your phone,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with emotion.
Carlos's expression faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took a hesitant step closer. ”What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.
You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. ”Messages,” you began, your voice barely audible as you held up the phone, displaying the incriminating evidence for him to see. ”From someone... someone you've been seeing behind my back.”
Carlos's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the screen, his hand instinctively reaching out to take the phone from you. ”Y/N, I swear, I can explain,” he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. Why was he reaching for the phone and not your hand?
But the words fell on deaf ears as the full weight of his betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. ”Explain?” you echoed, your voice trembling with disbelief. ”How can you even explain this, Carlos? How could you do this to me?”
He reached out to touch you, to offer comfort or reassurance, but you recoiled, the sting of his infidelity too raw and painful to bear. ”I trusted you,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you backed away from him. ”How could you-”
Can love like this be lost too? You’ve been on your knees begging the universe to grant you one love that wouldn’t be snatched from you. Thinking all your prayers had been heard only for him to do it too.
Carlos's expression crumbled as he watched you retreat, his own anguish mirroring yours. ”I never meant for this to happen,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. ”Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right.”
As Carlos pleaded with you, his words heavy with desperation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. His promises of love and devotion clashed with the evidence on his phone, leaving you torn between the man you thought you knew and the painful truth staring back at you.
You met his gaze, seeing the desperation etched into his features as he struggled to make you believe him. ”Can you hear me?” he implored, desperation lacing his words. ”You are always enough for me. Please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”
His words pulled at your heartstrings, the sincerity in his voice almost convincing you to give him another chance. But deep down, you knew that trust once broken was not easily repaired.
You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his plea bearing down on you. ”I hear you,” you replied softly, nodding through your tears, your voice tinged with sadness. ”But it's not that simple, Carlos. I want to believe you, but...”
Carlos's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he sought solace in your embrace. ”Please, don't leave,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make this right, to prove to you that you're the only one for me.”
Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away, the pain of betrayal still raw and agonizing. ”No,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the sound of your breaking heart. ”You did to us. You made me believe… I'm leaving. This is goodbye.”
With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Carlos standing alone in the wreckage of your brutally murdered relationship.
Charles Leclerc
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You had rushed back home because for the first time in what feels like forever, your boyfriend was back home. Charles was a man of many charms. Despite being with him for so long, he still had you blushing and getting butterflies every time he was around.
He was busy when you got home so you decided to wash up but as you paced back and forth in the living room, your heart racing with anxiety, you didn’t know what to do to figure out what exactly Charles was doing.
Charles had been on the phone for what felt like hours, his voice hushed but urgent as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line. Normally, you wouldn't think much of it, but something about his tone tonight had set off alarm bells in your mind.
You tried to focus on a book, anything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. But every word you read seemed to blur together, your mind consumed with worry.
Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, you set the book aside and made your way to the kitchen, where Charles was still on the phone.
”...I can't risk it tonight,” you heard him say, his tone strained ”She's coming home soon, and I don't want to risk it.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Who was he talking about? And why did he sound so nervous?
Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept closer, straining to hear the other end of the conversation.
”...I know, I know,” Charles continued, his voice growing even more frantic. ”But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to you.”
Your blood ran cold at his words. What did he mean, ‘not fair to her?’ And who the fuck was he talking to?
Before you could process it all, Charles abruptly ended the call and turned to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock and hurt.
”Y/N,” he started, his voice wavering as he took in your expression. ”I... I didn't realize you were there.”
You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing with a thousand questions. ”Who were you talking to, Charles?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.
Charles' eyes flickered with guilt as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. ”It's... it's nothing, Y/N,” he stammered, but you could tell he was lying. ”Just a friend.”
But you weren't buying it. Not after what you had just heard. ”A friend?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger and hurt. ”Is that what you call my replacement?”
Charles' face paled at your accusation, his eyes widening in shock. ”Baby, it's not what you think,” he protested, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked so scared, as if he knew he was gonna get caught up into lies.
”Then what is it, Charles?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. ”Enlighten me.”
He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours as if unable to meet your eyes. ”It's... it's complicated,” he finally admitted, but his words offered little comfort.
”There's nothing complicated about cheating on someone you claim to love.” You were trying to compose yourself, not show him how deeply his words had cut you but your hands were trembling and your voice was cracking. Face pale and eyes glassy.
Charles winced at your words, his guilt written plainly across his face. ”You’re the only person I love,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. ”It's just... things got out of hand.”
You felt like you had been punched in the gut. How could he stand there and try to justify his betrayal? How could he expect you to forgive him after this? Why the fuck was he the one looking distort?
”I trusted you, Charles,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. He shouldn’t be expecting you to treat him as a victim too when he was the one guilty. ”I thought we had something special.”
Charles' expression softened, his eyes brimming with remorse. ”We do, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ”I love you, more than anything. Please, you have to believe me.”
But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by his infidelity. ”How can I believe anything you say after this?” You scoffed bitterly. Angry at yourself for crying in front of the man who has probably been sleeping with someone else for months now.
Charles reached out to you, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”
You whispered, your voice heavy with resignation,”There are no second chances for cheaters.”
Lando Norris
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Because of multiple torments inflicted by past lovers, you were always resistant to fall head first in any relationship. Hesitant to give your heart knowing recovering was going to be the absolute worst.
Comes in, Lando. The man who broke through all your barriers, took down the walls you put around yourself and had you love struck in a matter of time.
For a moment, everything was amazing. He was the best person you could've asked for. He looked at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.
Who could've thought?
Who could've thought that the same fucking man would have you breaking down at a family event in front of everyone.
The room buzzed with conversation as you sat at the dinner table, trying to ignore the growing tension in the air.
Lando's hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. ”Are you okay?” he whispered, concern etched in his voice.
You forced a smile, nodding faintly. ”Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping to brush off your unease. Why was everyone looking at you with such pity?
But Lando's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. ”You know you can talk to me, right?” he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.
Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over the room, drawing your attention to the commotion across the room. You followed Lando's gaze, your heart sinking as you saw him make eye contact with one of your cousins, their faces morphing as if they were having a whispered conversation.
”What's going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as dread coiled in the pit of your stomach.
You have seen this scene before and you did not like where this was going. Feeling overwhelmed, you got up and excused yourself from the table. Slightly glad to have Lando do the same.
This was all a confusion. You repeated in your head before standing outside the venue, away from distressed eyes and hushed gossips.
Lando's grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face you. ”I... I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.
Your heart plummeted as you watched him fidget, every step feeling like a weight bearing down on your chest. ”What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling with apprehension.
Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet your gaze. ”I... I don't know how to say this,” he began, his voice faltering.
Just then, your cousin appeared at his side, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. ”Y/N, we need to talk,” she said, her voice tinged with remorse.
They exchanged another glance and something in your mind stopped working.
Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the truth hitting you like a sledgehammer to the chest. ”No...” you whispered, the word barely a breath as tears welled in your eyes.
Lando reached out to you as you took a step away from them, his voice a desperate plea. ”Please, let me explain,” he begged, his eyes brimming with regret.
But you pulled away, the sting of deceit too raw and painful to bear. ”Not you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”How could you do this to me?”
There were no answers, no explanations that could erase the pain of their breach of trust. They both just watched as you started crying softly. Apparently everyone in your family knew too.
As tears welled in your eyes, Lando's pleading voice cut through the air. ”Y/N, please, just give me a chance to explain.” His hand reached out towards you, but you recoiled, his touch now feeling like a betrayal.
”Explain what?” you retorted, your voice laced with disbelief. ”That you cheated on me with my cousin?”
Lando's eyes widened in panic but instead your cousin's voice broke through the tension, filled with regret. ”Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened.”
Anger surged within you at her words. ”Sleeping with my fucking boyfriend was a mistake?” you shot back, incredulous at the audacity of her apology.
Lando stepped forward, his expression a mix of remorse and longing. ”I never meant to cause you any pain, Y/N. Please believe me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.
Your trust had shattered along with your heart. 
His voice quivered as he spoke again, desperation lacing his words. ”I love you, Y/N. I made a stupid mistake, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”
But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by their adultery.
”If this is love, I want no part of it,” you declared, your voice filled with anguish. Knowing deep down that you meant it.
Your cousin reached out to you, her eyes brimming with tears. ”Y/N, please, you have to understand...” But understanding felt beyond your reach, lost in a sea of pain and betrayal.
”Understand what?” you cried out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”That my own sister betrayed me with my… my boyfriend?”
Lando's plea echoed in the air, his voice thick with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”
But the chance had already been squandered, lost in the wreckage of their infidelity.
”You had your chance, Lando, and you blew it.” You wish you could be angry and put them to their places but your chest was hurting so much that it was almost dizzy.
You felt sick and on the verge of passing out.
”I'll do anything to make things right, Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” But there was nothing they could do to undo the damage that had been done, no words or actions that could mend the broken pieces of your heart.
They have insulted you in front of your whole family.
”There's nothing you can do to fix this, Lando. You've ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away, the weight of their betrayal too heavy to bear.
As you walked away, their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of your own heartbreak. And as you stumbled out into the night, the stars above offering no solace, you vowed never to let anyone break you again.
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( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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papaya-twinks · 1 month ago
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That pic of Lando and Oscar with the baby is doing things to me🫣 what about a request of Lando and reader being parents of a cute baby and him being protective of both 🥹
Warnings: None!
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
One thing you were pretty sure you knew was that you and Lando had agreed to make Max Fewtrell the godfather of your kid. But now, you were kinda rethinking that.
“I think Oscar’s giving someone a look again,” Lando said to you in a whisper as he balanced your baby girl on his lap, a smile on your face as the young Aussie glared at some mechanic.
So far, the tally of times Oscar had done anything remotely protective of your 1 month old baby compared to Max was a solid 281:0, to Oscar, of course.
“You good?” he said, walking up to you as you smiled to the Aussie. “All good, Osc,” Lando said, nudging his teammate with a smile as Oscar carefully made sure not to even touch the baby.
“You know you can touch her, right?” you said with a laugh. “And risk the chance to hurt her?” Oscar said, clutching his chest in what seemed like offence in some ways.
“I’d never,” he said, as Lando sighed and shook his head. “Mate, I think we need to change our baby’s godfather,” Lando said to him with a smile as Oscar beamed proudly.
“I’d be, uh, honoured,” he cleared his throat, not letting his pride show. “Hey!” the Aussie snapped to an engineer as he turned his attention away from you and Lando.
Some poor engineer had put some music on to make it easier for them to work, only to have Oscar glare at them. “You’ll influence the kid,” Oscar said.
“Don’t put on rock music!” he covered your baby’s ears as you burst out laughing. “S-Sorry,” the mechanic said, perhaps a little terrified of Oscar, now.
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damienkarras73 · 6 months ago
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An essay on Furiosa, the politics of the Wasteland, Arthurian literature and realistic vs. formalistic CGI
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Mad Max: Fury Road absolutely enraptured me when it came out nearly a decade ago, and I will cop to seeing it four times at the theatre. For me (and many others who saw the light of George Miller) it set new standards for action filmmaking, storytelling and worldbuilding, and I could pop in its Blu Ray at any time and never get tired of it. Perhaps not surprisingly, I was deeply apprehensive about the announced prequel for Fury Road's actual main character, Furiosa, even if Miller was still writing and directing. We didn't need backstory for Furiosa—hell, Fury Road is told in such a way that NOTHING in it requires explicit backstory. And since it focuses on the Yung Furiosa, it meant Charlize Theron couldn't return with another career-defining performance. Plus, look at all that CGI in the trailer, it can't be as good as Fury Road.
Turns out I was silly to doubt George Miller, M.D., A.O., writer and director of Babe: Pig in the City and Happy Feet One & Two.
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is excellent, and I needn't have worried about it not being as good as Fury Road because it is not remotely trying to be Fury Road. Fury Road is a lean, mean machine with no fat on it, nothing extraneous, operating with constant forward momentum and only occasionally letting up to let you breathe a little; Furiosa is a classical epic, sprawling in scope, scale and structure, and more than happy to let the audience simmer in a quiet, almost painfully still moment. If its opening spoken word sequence by that Gandalf of the Wastes himself, the First History Man, didn't already clue you in, it unfolds like something out of myth, a tale told over and over again and whose possible embellishments are called attention to in the dialogue itself. Where Fury Road scratched the action nerd itch in my head like you wouldn't believe, Furiosa was the equivalent of Miller giving the undulating folds of my English major brain a deep tissue massage. That's great! I, for one, love when sequels/prequels endeavour to be fundamentally different movies from what they're succeeding/preceding, operating in different modes, formats and even genres, and more filmmakers should aim for it when building on an existing series.
This movie has been on my mind so much in the past week that I've ended up dedicating several cognitive processes to keeping track of all of the different ponderings it's spawned. Thankfully, Furiosa is divided into chapters (fun fact: putting chapter cards in your movie is a quick way to my heart), so it only seems fitting that I break up all of these cascading thoughts accordingly.
1. The Pole of Inaccessibility
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Furiosa herself actually isn't the protagonist for the first chapter of her own movie, instead occupying the role of a (very crafty and resourceful) damsel in distress for those initial 30-40 minutes. The real hero of the opening act, which plays out like a game of cat and mouse, is Furiosa's mother Mary Jabassa, who rides out into the wasteland first on horseback and then astride a motorcycle to track down the band of raiders that has stolen away her daughter. Mary's brought to life by Miller and Nico Lathouris' economical writing and a magnetic performance by newcomer Charlee Fraser, who radiates so much screen presence in such relatively little time and with one of those instant "who is SHE??" faces. She doesn't have many lines, but who needs them when Fraser can convey volumes about Mary with just a flash of her eyes or the effortless way she swaps out one of her motorcycle's wheels for another. To be quite candid, I'm not sure of the last time I fell in love with a character so quickly.
You notice a neat aesthetic contrast between mother and daughter in retrospect: Mary Jabassa darts into the desert barefoot, clad in a simple yet elegant dress, her wolf cut immaculate, only briefly disguising herself with the ugly armour of a raider she just sniped, and when she attacks it's almost with grace, like some Greek goddess set loose in the post-apocalyptic Aussie outback with just her wits and a bolt-action rifle; we track Furiosa's growth over the years by how much of her initially conventional beauty she has shed, quite literally in one case (hair buzzed, severed arm augmented with a chunky mechanical prosthesis, smeared in grease and dirt from head to toe, growling her lines at a lower octave), and by how she loses her mother's graceful approach to movement and violence, eventually carrying herself like a blunt instrument. Yet I have zero doubt the former raised the latter, both angels of different feathers but with the same steel and resolve. Of fucking course this woman is Furiosa's mother, and in the short time we know her we quickly understand exactly why Furiosa has the drive and morals she does without needing to resort to didactic exposition.
Anyway, I was tearing up by the end of the first chapter. Great start!
2. Lessons from the Wasteland
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Most movies—most stories, really—don't actually tell the entire narrative from A to Z. Perhaps the real meat of the thing is found from H to T, and A-G or U-Z are unnecessary for conveying the key narrative and themes. So many prequels fail by insisting on telling the A-G part of the story, explaining how the hero earned a certain nickname or met their memorable sidekick—but if that stuff was actually interesting, they likely would have included it in the original work. The greatest thing a prequel can actually do is recontextualize, putting iconic characters or moments in a new light, allowing you to appreciate them from a different angle. All of season 2 of Fargo serves to explain why Molly Solverson's dad is appropriately wary when Lorne Malvo enters his diner for a SINGLE SCENE in the show's first season. David's arc from the Alien prequels Prometheus and Covenant—polarizing as those entries are—adds another layer to why Ash is so protective of the creature in the first movie. Andor gives you a sense of what it's like for a normal, non-Jedi person to live under the boot of the Empire and why so many of them would join up with the Rebel Alliance—or why they would desire to wear that boot, or even just crave the chance to lick it.
Furiosa is one of those rare great prequels because it makes us take a step back and consider the established world with a little more nuance, even if it's still all so absurd. In Fury Road, Immortan Joe is an awesome, endlessly quotable villain, completely irredeemable, and basically a cartoon. He works perfectly as the antagonist of that breakneck, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote-ass movie, but if you step outside of its adrenaline-pumping narrative for even a moment you risk questioning why nobody in the Citadel or its surrounding settlements has risen up against him before. Hell, why would Furiosa even work for him to begin with? But then you see Dementus and company tear-assing around the wasteland, seizing settlements and running them into the ground, and you realize Joe and his consortium offer something that Dementus reasonably can't: stability—granted, an unwavering, unchangeable stability weighted in favour of Joe's own brutal caste system, but stability nonetheless. It really makes you wonder, how badly does a guy have to suck to make IMMORTAN JOE of all people look like a sane, competent and reasonable ruler by comparison?!?
…and then they open the door to the vault where he keeps his wives, and in a flash you're reminded just how awful Joe is and why Furiosa will risk her life to help some of these women flee from him years later. This new context enriches Joe and makes it more believable that he could maintain power for so long, but it doesn't make him any less of a monster, and it says a lot about Furiosa's hate for Dementus that she could grit her teeth and work for this sick old tyrant.
3. The Stowaway
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Here's another wild bit of trivia about this movie: you don't actually see top-billed actress Anya Taylor-Joy pop up on screen until roughly halfway through, once Furiosa is in her late teens/early twenties. Up until this point she's been played by Alyla Browne, who through the use of some seamless and honestly really impressive CGI has been given Anya's distinctive bug eyes [complimentary]. It's one of those bold choices that really works because Miller commits to it so hard, though it does make me wish Browne's name was up on the poster next to Taylor-Joy's.
Speaking of CGI, I should talk about what seems to be a sticking point for quite a few people: if there's been one consistent criticism of Furiosa so far, it's that it doesn't look nearly as practical or grounded as Fury Road, with more obvious greenscreen and compositing, and what previously would've been physical stunt performers and pyrotechnics have been replaced with their digital equivalents for many shots. Simply put, it doesn't look as real! For a lot of people, that practicality was one of Fury Road's primary draws, so I won't try to quibble if they're let down by Furiosa's overt artificiality, but to be honest I'm actually quite fine with it. It helps that this visual discrepancy doesn't sneak up on you but is incredibly apparent right from the aerial zoom-down into Australia in the very first scene, so I didn't feel misled or duped.
Fury Road never asks you to suspend your disbelief because it all looks so believable; Furiosa jovially prods you to suspend that disbelief from the get-go and tune into it on a different wavelength. It's a classical epic, and like the classical epics of the 1950s and 60s it has a lot of actors standing in front of what clearly are matte paintings. It feels right! We're not watching fact, we're watching myth. I'm willing to concede there might be a little bit of post-hoc rationalization on my part because I simply love this movie so much, but I'm not holding the effects in Furiosa to the same standard as those in Fury Road because I simply don't believe Miller and his crew are attempting to replicate that approach. Without the extensive CGI, we don't get that impressive long, panning take where a stranded Furiosa scans the empty, dust-and-sun-scoured wasteland (75% Sergio Leone, 25% Andrei Tarkovsky), or the Octoboss and his parasailing goons. For the sake of intellectual exercise I did try imagining them filming the Octoboss/war rig sequence with the same immersive practical approach they used for Fury Road's stunts, however I just kept picturing dead stunt performers, so perhaps the tradeoff was worth it!
4. Homeward
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Around the same time we meet the Taylor-Joy-pilled Furiosa in Chapter 3, we're introduced to Praetorian Jack, the chief driver for the convoys running between the Citadel and its allied settlements. Jack's played by Tom Burke, who pulled off a very good Orson Welles in Mank! and who I should really check out in The Souvenir one of these days. He's also a cool dude! Here are some facts about Praetorian Jack:
He's decked out in road leathers with a pauldron stitched to one shoulder
He's stoic and wary, but still more or less personable and can carry on a conversation
Professes to a certain cynicism, to quote Special Agent Albert Rosenfield, but ultimately has a capacity for kindness and will do the right thing
Shoots a gun real good
Can drive like nobody's business
So in other words, Jack is Mad Max. But also, no, he clearly isn't! He looks and dresses like Mad Max (particularly Mel Gibson's) and does a lot of the same things "Mad" Max Rockatansky does, but he's also very explicitly a distinct character. It's a choice that seems inexplicable and perhaps even lazy on its face, except this is a George Miller movie, so of course this parallel is extremely purposeful. Miller has gone on record saying he avoids any kind of strict chronology or continuity for his Mad Max movies, compared to the rigid canons for Star Trek and Star Wars, and bless him for doing so. It's more fun viewing each Mad Max entry as a new revision or elaboration on a story being told again and again generations after the fall, mutating in style, structure and focus with every iteration, becoming less grounded as its core narrative is passed from elder to youth, community to community, genre to genre, until it becomes myth. (At least, my English major brain thinks it's more fun.) In fact there's actually something Arthurian to it, where at first King Arthur was mentioned in several Welsh legends before Geoffrey of Monmouth crafted an actual narrative around him, then Chrétien de Troyes added elements like Lancelot and infused the stories with more romance, and then with Le Morte d'Arthur Thomas Malory whipped the whole cycle together into one volume, which T.H. White would chop and screw and deconstruct with The Once and Future King centuries later.
All this to say: maybe Praetorian Jack looks and sounds and acts like Max because he sorta kinda basically is, being just one of many men driving back and forth across the wasteland, lending a hand on occasion, who'll be conflated into a single, legendary "Mad Max" at some point down the line in a different History Man's retelling of Furiosa's odyssey. Sometimes that Max rips across the desert in his V8 Interceptor, other times driving a big rig. Perhaps there's a dog tagging along and/or a scraggly and at first aggravating ally played by Bruce Spence or Nicholas Hoult. Usually he has a shotgun. But so long as you aren't trying to kill him, he'll help you out.
5. Beyond Vengeance
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The Mad Max movies have incredibly iconic villains—Immortan Joe! Toecutter! the Lord Humongous!—but they are exactly that, capital V Villains devoid of humanizing qualities who you can't wait to watch bad things happen to. Furiosa appears to continue this trend by giving us a villain who in fact has a mustache long enough that he could reasonably twirl it if he so wanted, but ironically Dementus ends up being the most layered antagonist in the entire series, even moreso than the late Tina Turner's comparatively benevolent Aunty Entity from Beyond Thunderdome. And because he's played by Chris Hemsworth, whose comedic delivery rivals his stupidly handsome looks, you lock in every time he's on screen.
Something so fascinating about Dementus is that, for a main antagonist, he's NOT all-powerful, and in fact quite the opposite: he's more conman than warlord, looking for the next hustle, the next gullible crowd he can preach to and dupe—though never for long. For all his bluster, at every turn he finds himself in way over his head and writing cheques he can't cash, and this self-induced Sisyphean torment makes him riveting to watch. You're tempted to pity Dementus but it's also quite difficult to spare sympathy for someone who's so quick to channel their rage and hurt and ego into thoughtless, burn-it-all-down destruction. When you're not laughing at him, you're hating his guts, and it's indisputably the best work of Chris Hemsworth's career.
It's in this final chapter that everything naturally comes to a head: Furiosa's final evolution into the character we meet at the start of Fury Road, the predictable toppling of Dementus' precariously built house of cards, and the mythmaking that has been teased since the very first scene becoming diagetic text, the last of which allows the movie to thoroughly explore the themes of vengeance it's been building to. A brief war begins, is summarized and is over in the span of roughly a minute, and on its face it's a baffling narrative choice that most other filmmakers would have botched. But our man Miller's smart enough to recognize that the result of this war is the most foregone of conclusions if you've been paying even the slightest bit of attention, so he effectively brushes past it to get to the emotional heart of the climax and an incredible "Oh shit!" payoff that cements Miller as one of mainstream cinema's greatest sickos.
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Fury Road remains the greatest Mad Max film, but Furiosa might be the best thing George Miller has ever made. If not his magnum opus, it does at least feel like his dissertation, and it makes me wish Warner Bros. puts enough trust in him despite Furiosa's poor box office performance that he's able to make The Wasteland. Absolutely ridiculous that a man just short of his 80th birthday was able to pull this off, and with it I feel confident calling him one of my favourite directors.
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darlingghoulette · 1 year ago
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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so
Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.
Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.
Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.
Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 
Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 
Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.
Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 
Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 
It was the proverbial straw. 
“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”
Nothing. 
“HEY!”
He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 
Silence rang for a beat.
Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 
The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 
Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 
Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 
It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.
But, see. That just gave him an idea. 
Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 
“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 
He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 
“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 
“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”
It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 
“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 
Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.
“Yeah?” 
“Can you come here?” 
The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.
“You tired?”
“Uh, no. I’m fine--”
“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 
There was a countdown, three, two, one...
A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 
“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”
“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 
Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 
“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 
Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.
“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.
God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 
Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 
Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 
“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 
“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”
“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 
“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 
“You guys, let’s just go already,” 
“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 
The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 
It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.
What can he say? He’s a weak man. 
“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 
“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 
A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 
The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 
The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 
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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago
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midnights * mv1
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since your breakup, max hadn’t thought of you. until he stumbled home by himself in the middle of the night.
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: honestly just heartbreak all around
notes: i started writing this when i found out my ex-boyfriend was dating someone new, and now here i am 💀 and i fear i am on my phone once more; i will credit the gif in the morning when i get to school
(next)
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the lock clicks as max turns his key, the sound echoing in the eerily empty hallway behind him. he turns the knob and was greeted by his empty apartment.
max hasn’t been home in almost 2 weeks. the races and his media commitments, topped by other projects just made it so rare to find the time to come home. but that’s not the only reason he’s avoiding the confinements of these four walls.
he flips the switch in the entryway, slipping his shoes off. immediately, he notices the vast difference in the way his apartment looks — how strangely lifeless it feels.
he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is and it takes him a second to realise.
you’d emptied his apartment of your belongings.
the breakup happened in the 2 weeks he was away from home. it actually took place a night before his race. he’d grown tired of it too, the neverending misunderstandings and the fights.
so he let you walk away; you hopped on a flight back home.
he hasn’t exactly had the time to think about you since then. you’d only texted him once: two days ago to tell him that victoria will be the one with the cats until he comes back. he’d only replied with a simple ‘okay, thank you’.
he didn’t really know what to say either. he stared at your text message for 5 minutes before daniel called him over to start filming a promotional shoot. that was all he could come up with.
max walks further into the apartment you’d once shared. his eyes are darting all over the place, taking mental notes of spots that look different from the way he had left it.
the framed picture of you with the cats is gone, your magazines on the coffee table, the bowl of your collection of scrunchies as a ‘conversation-starter’ centrepiece — it’s all gone.
his apartment didn’t even feel like home. all of the things that made it feel like home just isn’t in here anymore.
max turns his body, taking a glance at the entryway. even your house slippers aren’t where they usually are. it’s as if you were never even here.
he takes a walk further in, glancing at the sofa. it seems so lifeless now without the teddy bear you brought in, and the blanket that you insisted was only for the living room.
he admits he misses the teddy bear. though, he was opposed to the idea at first, claiming that it’s taking up precious space that you could both be maximising together. it proved a lot more useful when he found himself hugging it when he’s on the sofa watching a show with you.
the remotes for all the appliances are no longer scattered over the furniture mysteriously. they are all lined up neatly on the edge of the coffee table, grouped accordingly. you hated arranging the console remotes for the simple fact that you were too lazy to reach forward an inch to start playing.
and it finally hits him, that in the moment of pride, and simply protecting his peace at the moment, he has now lost you.
for good, it seems.
max drops himself on the couch. he’s still looking around, desperately wishing that this was some cruel dream he’s in. he will wake up with you by his side, your hair in his face with his arm draped lazily around your body. he will wake up and you are still his, and he is yours.
he can only sigh. audbily, at the predicament he has found himself in. at the time, it didn’t occur to him to fight for you; to ask you to stay. he didn’t have it in him to ask you to find reason within yourself to change your mind.
then he hears a soft meow, followed by sounds of pitter patter against the floor of the apartment. before he knew it, the couch dips ever so slightly and then there’s jimmy climbing onto his lap to greet him.
then he hears actual footsteps, slippers dragging against the floor. he turns his head slightly, his one hand patting the feline’s head, and meets victoria’s eyes.
“max?”
“victoria.”
a set of lights by the windows are turned on, granting him a look at his younger sister. she’s standing by the door of the guest bedroom with a jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders.
she has a frown on her face, and a look that screamed she didn’t know what to say to him.
and then his heart breaks. instead of walking through those apartment doors hand in hand with you, giggling from the high you’d get from the bar in his private jet, he is sitting her all by himself. met by his younger sister, who would be gone by morning to go back to her family.
max can only smile sadly at her. he shrugs. “we broke up.”
“i know,” she answers softly, nodding understandingly. she approaches him cautiously with her arms slightly held up. “i’m sorry.”
“me too.”
max scrambles from his position and gladly takes in the hug that she’s offered him. he suddenly feels so small, his heart aching in his chest and his throat closing up. he feels the tears in his eyes as he hugs his younger sister slightly tighter.
she rubs her back up and down, hugging him even tighter when she feels his chest stagger slightly. now he’s sniffling and hands are moving up to his face to wipe the tears falling from his eyes.
“give it time,” victoria whispers, swaying slightly in an attempt to comfort the driver. “i promise everything will fall back into place. slowly, but surely.”
max sighs deeply. “i don’t know why i didn’t stop her from walking away.”
she pulls away from the hug, then tugs his hands towards the couch when he chases her embrace. she leans back, pulling max in for a tighter — and slightly more comfortable — hug.
“i know it sucks now,” she rests her cheek on the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder empathetically. “but let things sort itself out. it will be okay.”
there, in his sister’s arms, he cried for the first time since your breakup. he had been so busy that he hadn’t been able to process the whole situation at all.
the way you had shot daggers at him through your eyes that night, how he snapped at you when he noticed and how the fight had erupted from something barely of significance.
it was just over a cup of coffee — how you had made it with 2 sugars instead of 3.
from there, the topics of contention had evolved into something bigger. in the haze of both of your anger, past arguments were brought up and new ones were created just in that night.
then both of you grew tired. you ended up next to him on the couch of his driver’s room in silence. and you said, “i can’t do this anymore, max.”
and he had said to you, “i’m tired.”
but what he should’ve said was: “i’m sure we can find a way through this.”
but that’s not what he said to you. he stayed silent when you brought it up: “i think we need to break up.”
frankly, he didn’t really know what to say. at first, he was dumbfounded at what you said. never did he think, that when you first start dating, that a breakup would ever present itself.
max told himself, about 4 months into the relationship that there’s absolutely no way he’d end up with anybody else except you.
now, it seems he’s going to have to go through all of this by himself. start the whole thing all over again, unless something changes.
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turcott3 · 9 months ago
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34 + 35
logan sargeant x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, smut!!, oral sex, foreplay, unprotected sex, breeding kink (hence the song)
positions fics masterlist
~watchin movies but we ain’t seen a thing tonight~
-
“logan.” you groaned, lightly pushing the boy. the room was filled with darkness and only lit by the tv.
“what do you want to watch? i’ve asked you fifty times.” he laughs, handing you the remote.
“don’t hate me but i’ve been wanting to rewatch this.” you say opening max to none other than, fifty shades of grey.
“you know i said i didn’t want to watch this.” he groans.
“just one chance logan please.” you beg, tugging on his shirt.
“fine, we can watch it.” he giggles as you press play and find your way under his arm. after a long bout of silence, your focus begin to stray. it was hard not to look at your boyfriend, who’s eyes were locked on the screen. he seemed to be invested but this movie was ramping up your sexual energy.
“are you okay?” he says breaking the silence.
“mhm” is all you muster out and his eyes stay locked on you as you shift your legs uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of his arm around you. you wanted any friction you could get.
“logan.” you whisper.
“hm?” he replies.
“can i put the blanket over us? i’m cold.”
“yes of course.” he replies, his thumb lightly caressing your arm, sending goosebumps throughout your body.
your hand began to wander, lightly touching his leg. you take one of the drawstrings of his sweatpants between your fingers, twisting it slowly back and forth, hoping he’ll notice sooner than later. intentionally, you brushed your hand over his dick to grab the other drawstring to play with.
“baby what are you doing?” he giggles.
“nothin.” you reply, giving him doe eyes.
“you’re the one that put this on, watch it.” he says briefly focusing back on the screen.
“you’re right sorry i just…. have something on my mind.” you say, your hand slowly drifting closer to his dick underneath the cloth of his great sweatpants. his breath hitches as you pull the waistband slightly. your fingers wrap around his thick cock, quickly rubbing him hard.
“y/n.” he says.
“shhh.” you smirk, pressing a kiss to his lips as you stroke him firmly, paying close attention to his sensitive tip.
“fuck.” he says, his head thrown back, the movie now just background noise to help drown out the groans exiting his mouth.
you sit up on your knees pulling the waistband completely down, moving the blanket with it, completely exposing his dick. you lean over and spit on it, working your warm saliva onto his dick, running your thumb over the bulging veins. your lips make contact with his tip, his hips bucking slightly as a reaction. you push spit through your lips, watching it drip down his throbbing cock. he gathers your hair carefully behind your head keeping it out of your way as you slowly take him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks. you gag as is dick hits the back of your throat but stay put momentarily before removing him with a pop.
“fuck baby, you’re so fucking good at that.” he says before you attach your lips to his sloppily.
hastily, you remove your shorts and panties, simply discarding them on the floor. you climb into his lap lining him up with yourself as you sink onto him. he attaches his lips to your neck as you wrap your arms around his. you moved in rhythmic circles, something you’d never tried before.
“oh my god.” he grunts out moving away from your neck locking eyes with you without another word. clearly your choice made him happy.
“is that good?”
“so fucking good.” he sighs attaching his lips to yours, his tongue begging for entry which is quickly given. you start to move up and down, the sound of skin clapping quickly drowning out the movie that remained playing in the background.
“logan.” you say, your voice wavering at the sensation his thick cock made you feel while it was pounding into you. his hips met yours in the middle with a snap causing you to yelp before collapsing over resting your head on his shoulder while he pile drives you, your nails dragging harshly down his back under his shirt. your moans all meshed together, you could hardly stand the way he was making you feel.
“look at me baby, look at me.” he says as you pick your head up off his shoulder, daze in your eyes. he connects your lips lovingly, he knew you were close. he could feel your walls grow tighter around him with each thrust.
“are you gonna come for me baby?” he asks.
“uh-huh.” is all you can say, your moans growing sharper and sharper by the second as he picks up his pace, thrusting deep into you.
“fuck i’m coming.” you gasp, your body releasing shockwaves, your legs jolting every few seconds as you collapsed over his body.
“get up baby,” he says lightly tapping you on the ass. this was your typical ritual when you fucked without a condom.
“no baby.” you groan into his shirt as he slows his strokes down.
“you want me t-“
“yes fuck yes, i want it in me logan.” which was surprisingly all you needed to say to send him over the edge, spilling his climax deep inside you. you stayed in that position out of breath for a few moments before you pull him out of you.
you laid down next to him spreading your legs slightly, dragging your fingers through the little bit of cum that dripped between your legs and sucking it off your fingers as he watched you intensely.
“fuck i love you y/n. you’re fucking perfect.” he says climbing over you and reattaching your lips.
“please logan, please fuck me again.” you beg, tugging on his shirt so he wouldn’t back away.
“baby what if you get pregnant?” he asks, his eyes wandering your face for an expression.
“you’ll be in the off season again in 9 months.” you say, trying to egg him on. you’d never imagined yourself having kids until you got with logan. something about him and having his babies turned you on in ways you couldn’t explain.
“are you sure?” he asks, a little bit of hope gleaming in his eyes.
“i’ve never been more sure.” you smirked.
“god i love you. i love you so much.”
“i love you too baby.” you giggle as his lips make harsh contact with your neck.
-
973 notes · View notes
01zfan · 10 months ago
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trigger finger | j. sc
boyfriend!sungchan x reader | 4.5k words
contains: rough sex ???, unprotected sex, semi public
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sungchan was patient. he was kind. he never raised his voice at anyone or lashed out. it took him awhile to become this way, so even keeled and calm. a majority of his late teens and early twenties was dedicated to taming his turbulent emotions and occasional outbursts. after years of learning to regulate all of his feelings he had become a person who could approach any situation with a balanced mind. 
he had channeled ebullient emotions into sports and working out. he figured if he could control his body to score a goal or hit a new max weight that same control could be transferred to his mind. because sungchan followed this mentality, by the time he had turned twenty his body and temperament had completely changed. he got compliments now not only about his height but his build too, people who knew him in his teens exclaiming how “different” he was compared to back then. sungchan learned by the time he was twenty one that they were trying to subtly mention how well adjusted he had become. sungchan was no longer the stubborn kid that would defy teachers and roll his eyes at his parents. he was a gentleman—one that held doors open even if ten people had to come through, one that removed his hat indoors and always volunteered to get the short end of the stick. he ate the figurative shit the world threw at him with a smile on his face; he took it as penance for the little demon he was growing up.
sungchan believes that’s what drew you to him. sungchan was twenty two now, so used to the being pleasant it became an intrinsic part of who he was. it was an automatic reaction for sungchan to meet your teasing words with a smile, a smile you found yourself falling for easily. if you were fire sungchan was water, if you were the pull he was the push, and the give to your take. 
you found out quickly that sungchan was a good boyfriend and an even a better person. it came out in every aspect of the relationship. he was unfazed by your guy friends that seemed nervous around him. he was friendly to almost every girl, letting them down easy anytime they tried to make an advance. he never responded to you when you tried to pick an argument or instigate a screaming match. sungchan would always grab your hands in his and urge you to sit down and “talk it out with him”. he was the type of person you needed in your life but it irked you to no end how pacific he was. you wanted to believe it was a facade, that sungchan felt negative emotions as strongly as you did. you were grateful to date someone who didn’t have a short fuse, but you started to find it alarming that he seemingly had no fuse at all. 
even in the four walls of your bedroom underneath the safety of the sheets sungchan was never anything less than sweet. he was a fast learner after you showed him how to treat you in bed and what you liked, but beyond that there was nothing. sungchan never bossed you around, never dared to put a pushy hand on your head. he never continued after you came once, and absolutely refused to act on his own selfish needs. everything was about you and you hated how much you hated it. you often recalled you being in the heat of the moment and telling sungchan breathlessly that he could do whatever he wanted to you. the only thing that came from your confession was sungchan finishing inside of you, a kink he told you about sheepishly after the fact. it was everything you wanted but so short lived. it was the only time you saw sungchan be even remotely self-serving. you found yourself rewinding the way he moaned “fucking take it” into your ear as you clenched around him before his hips stilled inside of you. your whiny sounds of approval and surprise didn’t influence sungchan to continue being dominant in bed, in fact it took him almost two days afterwards to initiate sex with you. and with a boyfriend like sungchan, two days felt like a century. 
the next time you two had sex it was the normally scheduled program, sungchan finishing in a condom while he kissed your forehead. you sat next to him leaned up against the headboard as he rubbed out your unexercised muscles. you looked down at your sweet boyfriend with his doe eyes and secretly made it your mission to bring out the other side of him.
that’s why you were at this party, dancing on a dining table surrounded by men you didn’t know. you always had fun at the gatherings that evolve to parties, feeling safe to be unhinged knowing your doting boyfriend with water in his red solo cup was watching you from across the room. this was unlike you though. you weren’t the type to be on the tables or start borderline flirting with random men. but you felt your unofficial bodyguards’ eyes on you after you evaded his very obvious hints that it was time to go home. the fleeting looks you spared towards sungchan egged you on, and you could see his look become more and more agitated throughout the night. when you snuck away from him while he was distracted by a friend you knew that if he saw you in your current state he would have to snap.
sungchan didn’t like parties too much, so he would stick to the walls and casual conversations with the people he knew that would be there. his main job every party he went to was to keep an eye on you, letting you have your fun while he kept you safe. you and sungchan had a unspoken rule though, that he would stay at the party and let you enjoy yourself only for as long as he allowed. he would come up to you when the party was winding down or if you looked bored and say something along the lines of “don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?”, “it’s getting kind of late”, or “do you want to go eat?” when sungchan said those words he knew that you knew it was time to go. so it was beyond sungchan why he had exhausted all those phrases and you were both still here. 
he had already had a long day at work when you told him there was a gathering you were going to and you wanted him to come along. he had no idea how defiant you would be at this gathering, or how the gathering was actually a party. sungchan felt his body tense up the more he thought about the day he had and the night you were subjecting him to. he saw you get too close with some men while they chatted you and your girl friend up, saw you grab another mans arm and squeeze before casting a glance to him. sungchan had to take deep breaths to keep him from crushing the life out of the cup in his hand. 
he almost got you to leave when you gravitated towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. he saw you mindlessly fiddling with the empty bottles of dark liquor, almost like you were waiting for him to approach you. before sungchan could put on his most stern voice and tell you it was time to go, his friend shotaro distracted him.
“sungchan!” shotaro exclaimed. 
sungchan turned away from you only for a moment to greet his friend. they saw eachother at work not even three hours earlier, sungchan noticed that shotaro had simply thrown on a leather jacket over his work uniform. 
“what are you doing at this party?” shotaro asked.
sungchan had to lean in to yell into shotaro’s ear over the music, the dimly lit room made sungchan think he was yelling into his friends hair. 
“i’m here with my girlfriend. we are about to leave though.” sungchan said.
calling you his girlfriend was the most possessive he ever let himself get. he liked the way the phrase rolled off his tongue, or the look of acknowledgment on people’s faces when he said it paired with him putting a hand on your hip. when sungchan turned around to touch you, he saw that you were no longer there. 
he quickly peered over the crowd, using the height advantage he had on a majority of the partygoers to find your face. it turns out he was looking too low, not noticing you until shotaro let out a sound of surprise.
“isn’t that your girl on the table?” shotaro said. 
shotaro pointed the same hand that was holding the beer towards your dancing body. sungchan was speechless as he saw you swaying and turning on top of the table, giving the men that were circling you earlier like a shark a show. when your eyes locked with his and your movements didn’t cease sungchan instantly felt adrenaline course through his veins.
he left shotaro without saying goodbye, walking through the sea of people straight for you. you kept your eyes locked on sungchan the whole time, a sly smile coming across your features as he stood in front of you.
you looked down at sungchan as he stared up at you. you could tell that he was trying to actively calm himself down, trying to repress the sungchan that you wanted let out.
“we’re leaving.” he said sternly.
this was the most authoritative you had ever heard him. people around him moved their bodies to the music, bumping into sungchan. you could tell that he was mad because his body didn’t budge to the people colliding with him. you continue to smile as sungchan reached out a chivalrous hand to guide you down from the table—one that you ignored while you continue to dance.
“i’m finally taller than you.” you joke.
this was the breaking point for sungchan. you can see your boyfriend’s body physically tense and his eyes widen. for a split second you smiled, seeing sungchan’s unbounded emotion. this only lasted for a second before your smile was replaced with a surprised gasp as sungchan used the same hand to wrap around your waist and bring you to the edge of the table. 
he put your body over his shoulder with ease, a single arm locking your legs in place. you could feel the plush of your thighs squish together as you kick your feet in surprise and prop your hands on his lower back to try and keep yourself upright. some people laughed and others cheered for you, but most of them go back to dancing as if nothing happened. you can feel sungchan place a hand on your lower part of your dress, pulling down the fabric so it covered the swell of your ass. 
sungchan is silent as he walks you through the house. it’s almost humiliating, being paraded around a crowded house party for everyone to see. in a weird twisted way you like it, indirectly showing off your boyfriends strength and your ability to push his buttons. you don’t know if sungchan knew how possessive he seems in this moment, showing everyone at the party that you’re his. it had been a whole night in the making, you have never worked so hard in your life. you hope it’s all paid off when sungchan carries you upstairs, using his long legs to clear two steps at a time.
once you’re in a quieter part of the house, walking down the corridor of closed doors you try to be as fake bossy as possible.
“put me down!” you grumble. 
you’re putting on a show now, your own facade of the irritated girlfriend. you lightly hit sungchan’s back as he checks each door in the hallway, seeing which knob will turn. he moves his body around, not taking into account your upper body whips back and forth from the momentum.
“sungchan i’m serious.” you say. 
still no response. you pray that a door will open up soon as you continue to whine in his grasp. you pray he can’t hear the smile in your voice as you struggle a little bit more in his hold.
“i wanna go back and dance.” you whine.
you hear the slap before you feel it on your skin. it hits you suddenly, like a lightning strike. it’s at the speed of light, sungchan’s large hand smacking where your thigh turns into your ass. it’s such a hard slap that it sounds all the way down the corridor and has you jolting forward in his hold. the pain flashing takes you by surprise, making you yell out loud.
“be quiet.” sungchan says.
his tone is even but assertive, and for the first time in your life you feel like you have bitten off more than you can chew. you obey him immediately, holding back all the other taunts you had floating around in your head. somehow hearing sungchan have an even tone in this situation is scarier than him raising his voice. the smack still stings on your skin as a doorknob finally turns for sungchan, revealing an empty room.
sungchan makes it to the bed in just two strides and wastes no time launching your body to the center. you are jostled and caught off guard as your ass lands first, momentum forcing you to land on your elbows for support.
you’re forced to look up at sungchan as he stands next to the bed. you are in a risqué position to say the least, your dress had ridden up well past your thighs to sit bunched up at your stomach. your knees closed together are the other thing hiding your core from sungchan’s piercing glare. you didn’t think your boyfriend was capable of looking at someone so intensely, his eyes felt like they were burning holes into your skin. when you were in this position with sungchan, it was usually you beckoning sungchan towards you with a finger while you slowly spread your legs. but now you looked up to him waiting for his next move or next order, his previous command and the thrill that followed still ringing in your ears and on the back of your thighs.
sungchan turns his back to you to go to the door, you follow him carefully. you watch him slowly close the door and hear the familiar sound of a lock clicking. while sungchan’s back is turned you quickly straighten your dress and quickly pat down your mussed hair, trying to seem as appealing as possible.
when sungchan comes back to his previous spot next to the bed you try to figure out what this new sungchan is going to do. you open your mouth and sungchan puts a finger up. you bite your lip to stop yourself instantly. his hands go to his hips and he starts breathing heavy even breaths. the anticipation makes you want to squirm. you have to use your last ounce of self control to keep yourself still.
“what do you want from me?” sungchan asks. 
the question catches you off guard. your hand that was playfully tracing shapes over your dress stills.
“what do you mean—” you start.
“do you want me to be mean? yell at you because you flirt with some guys?” sungchan asks.
you think that you’re about to get lectured before you see sungchan take off his jacket. when he throws it to the floor you watch him carefully, not sure what’s going to happen next. when his hands slowly reach for the buttons on his pants you can’t help smiling from excitement, hands going to the bottom of your dress. 
“i’m better than that.” sungchan says matter-of-factly.
you shimmy out of your dress, getting it halfway off before sungchan helps you the rest of the way. he throws the garment to the side carelessly before roughly pushing you down on the bed. you are nothing against his strength, your body hitting the mattress with a dull thud. sungchan crawls on the bed to rest on the back of his legs in front of you, his bottom half completely bare. your eyes are locked in on his dick as it twitches in the cold air of the room.
“if you want it like that so bad i can give it to you like that.” sungchan says.
you look your boyfriend in the eyes and nod your head, lifting your hips so he can roughly slide your underwear down your legs.
sungchan has a hand on your knees before pushing it the opposite way, telling you to put yourself on view for him. you oblige, spreading your legs as far as they will go.
“what was the food we shared on our first date?” sungchan asks.
you try to think of the answer as you see a large glob of spit leave sungchan’s mouth to drop on his dick. you see him pump his length a few times before looking at you, raising his eyebrows to indicate impatience.
“uhm. popcorn?” you guess. 
it was hard to think anything in this position, but you know you got the answer right when sungchan nods his head and moves forward on his knees to slot himself between your legs.
“say that if it gets to be too much.” sungchan says.
before you can say okay, sungchan fully pushes his length inside of you. the anticipation coats your walls, that aided with sungchan’s lubricant helps him slide in easily. your pussy clenches around him, sungchan is already hissing at how your practically sucking him in.
sungchan puts both hands on the back of your thighs and pushes them to your chest, loving the way you whine underneath the stretch.
“you just wanna get fucked so bad.” sungchan exasperates. 
he’s captivated by the way you dumbly nod your head, so desperate to be mocked. it almost makes sungchan want to withhold the side of him that wants to fuck you into the sheets. maybe he should be gentle with you and edge you until you’re crying in missionary. but sungchan thinks he’ll let out the possessive, jealous, and mean side of him he’s spent all this time taming. he presses your thighs even closer before leaning his head over yours. his bangs graze your forehead as he looks you dead in your hooded eyes.
“you just want me to fuck you the way you deserve?” sungchan asks.
you would say yes but sungchan moves his fingers into your mouth. his digits press down so heavily on your tongue it comes out gargled, spit dribbling down your chin as he continues to thrust into you.
“i get jealous baby i just hide it well.” sungchan says. 
your eyes get wide as you realize sungchan found out about your little mission. he smiles at your expression, fingers pressing down with a force that almost makes you gag.
“everyone wants a piece of you. drives me fucking crazy.” he says.
you moan in response, you don’t know how sungchan is able to keep his voice and words even while dragging his dick along your walls. his demeanor makes you clench around him without meaning to.
“wanna keep you...” sungchan has to look up at the ceiling to stop himself from moaning. “locked in a box sometimes. i’m crazy right?” sungchan asks rhetorically.
you wish you had known about this sungchan long ago. you would’ve done this way sooner if you had known this is what he was hiding from you. you work around sungchan’s fingers in your mouth to try and beg him to go faster.
“faster? i like going slow though.” sungchan fake pouts. he purposely slows his hips even more, dragging his tip along your folds before pushing back in. “because i know you hate it.” he smirks.
sungchan sits up a little to be perpendicular to your body, putting your calfs on his shoulders. the same arm that locked your thighs in place on his back straighten your legs, making you moan from another stretch. sungchan fucks you in this new position, moving his head to bit and suck on your ankles.
he thrusts into you with such a force that it makes your tits gyrate. sungchan is locked in on them, using his large hand to cup your breast. he roughly pinches your nipple, rolling the bud between his index finger and thumb. the extra stimulation and the pain has tears prickling your vision and has your skin prickling with electricity.
“already?” sungchan asks.
he can tell by the way your eyebrows furrow and legs spread that you’re close.
“just from this?” sungchan asks again. 
his pace doesn’t change, keeping his tempo as he sees your face contort in pleasure. sungchan smiles and moves his hand that was kneading your chest down to your clit.
“you’re too fucking impatient, didn’t even know you liked it slow.”
“me neither.” you say. 
your attempt at trying to sound as calm as sungchan fails miserably, you sound meek and whiny as you try to even your tone. sungchan laughs at your feeble attempt, hand that locks your thigh in place going to your cheek quickly to pinch the fat.
“you have no control.” sungchan says. his hand speeds up the revolutions on your clit. ”just let it out baby.”
that’s all you need to hear as you spasm around sungchan’s dick. you slick makes gives his thrusts new lubrication, helping him throughly fuck you through your orgasm. sungchan coos in response to your whines and says your name back to you when his falls from your lips.
you had come down from your high a long time ago, being driven to insanity solely off of sungchan teasing you. you start to squirm against him, trying to push your hips forward to suppress the stimulation. you see sungchan smirk before he flips you over, your face pressing into the sweaty indent of the mattress. 
sungchan uses a hand to push your stomach flat to the bed and spread your cheeks simultaneously. the sudden change in position has you going crazy. you swear you can feel sungchan in your stomach as he presses his sweaty chest to your back. he sucks and bites on the skin of your neck, not pulling away until you cry out from the feeling.
“not done yet.” sungchan whispers against the shell of your ear.
he traces the outline of your ear before taking your earlobe into his mouth. you have never felt all of these sensations at once. usually it was one or the other, sungchan was careful with how much he gave you in bed. if he had you in the prone bone position he was careful to not give you his full length, if he was inside you he usually only paired it with kisses on the lips, and he had never took the risk to overstimulate you. but now sungchan pounded into you mercilessly, leaving bruises on your neck and ass due to the way he was holding you. your subsiding orgasm was building back over your body and it left you like putty, your ass turning to jelly as sungchan fucked you in a faster pace. 
“you like this don’t you?” sungchan teased. “when i just use you?”
sungchan’s fingers were no longer in your mouth but still spit dribbled from your mouth and words were caught in your throat. whatever you said was intelligible, a string of broken words and moans that couldn’t be deciphered. sungchan still cooed anyway like you understood you, placing a sweet kiss to your cheeks as he lifted his body up.
“now you have nothing to say?” sungchan asks.
sungchan’s speed picked up when he raised his body, and his hand went to rest beside your head. you brought your hand to clasp around his wrist, nails digging into his skin as you felt him go a little deeper inside of you. having something to sink your nails into let you gain your bearings enough to speak in between his thrusts.
“i’m gonna—” you mumbled.
“this pussy is mine right?” sungchan said.
he still had that venom laced in his voice, but it came out airy. he was close, maybe even closer than you were.
“all yours.” you cried out.
your walls spasmed around sungchan’s dick as he pressed down into your again, spreading your folds with a single hand to reach deeper than he did before. sungchan finished while buried deep inside of you, a stop he knew no other man would ever be able to reach. you made sounds he had never heard from you before, your usually controlled moans turning into high pitched whimpers and begs. sungchan gave you what you were begging for when he pulled out just a little to push right back in, feeling a little bit of his cum seep out of you.
your high pitched moans drowned down to you repeating his name over and over again in a quiet voice. sungchan kissed you cheek and pulled out, standing up from the bed to take in the sight of you all fucked out and pliant on the mattress. he could see some of his cum leak out of you, a pool of drool making the sheets around your mouth dark. sungchan wishes he could take a picture to show the next man that ever looked in your direction, or show you the next time you got mouthy. he settles for turning you to your back and kissing your lips. 
you are still so fucked out your actions are delayed, behind the rhythm of sungchan’s lips by a beat. the only thing that brings you out of your trance is the feeling of sungchan’s fingers pushing his cum back into your slit, the extra lubrication making a lewd squelching sound. you can feel hot tears come down your face and sungchan kisses them away, retreating his fingers when a majority of it is back inside of you.
“i’ll be right back baby. don’t move.” sungchan whispers.
even if you wanted to move you doubt you could, your body shakes and your muscles ache at even the thought of lifting a finger. 
sungchan comes back to the room just as fast as he leaves, holding a warm wet rag and a dry one. sungchan cleans you up and pats off your sweat, helping you back into your clothes and pulling you up from the bed. it all happens in a haze, paying attention to sungchan’s words of praise that comes out in droves. before you know it you are standing on shaky legs. sungchan looks at your state and laughs at you, poking your sides. you swat his hand before giving him your meanest look, one that definitely has much less bite after the events that just transpired. sungchan still puts his hands up in defense before kissing your forehead.
“there’s my girl.”
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adventuringblind · 11 months ago
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Ma Belle
Lestappen x Reader
Genre: Mafia AU, fluff
Summary: an arranged leads to a few struggles. The main one being that Max and Charles can only seem to summon their wife with her favorite movie.
Dialouge prompt: "It's okay baby, you're safe with us." "Yes we can watch the same movie for the millionth time, love."
Warnings: arranged marriage, daddy issues
Notes: part of my 1000 followers event. Requests are open again for regular asks btw (poly, lando, oscar, charles, Max, daniel, and logan for sure, and Liam and Carlos, depending on the request)👀
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Being a bargaining chip had been her purpose. The only reason she was born. In the possibility some kind of treaty needed to be made, she would be there.
So she learned how to be perfect. How to look the part her father needed her to. Played the game that everyone in this line of work plays.
Regardless of if everything in her mind is screaming to back out and run away as they sign the papers. She's being married off to not just one man, but two men who she doesn't know. They know each other. They'd supposedly been in her situation and have been married for a while already. They look at her with Kindess. A Dutch named Max and a Monegasque names Charles. A sympathy maybe only They can share with her.
She closes herself off the second they are alone. She is nothing more then a possession. A piece on the board for if things go wrong. These two don't actually want her and they already have each other. Why is she even here? Because of some treaty?
She ignores them. Keeps her distance. Pretends they don't exist. All the while watching the same move over and over again when they aren't around to hear.
Beauty and the Beast is her comfort movie. The one consistent in her life apart violence and backwards politics. She's not sure where it came from, the love for this movie. Maybe it's the comfort she finds in knowing she's not the only one locked away for some underlying purpose.
Max and Charles, to their credit, attempt to make am effort while not scaring her further away. They offer food at her door when she doesn't want to come out. They make attempts to show her affection. They give her space when she needs and don't push for more them she is willing to give.
Max and Charles weren't supposed to be home until later. Out on 'buisness' which code for something probably illegal. Which means, she wraps herself up in a blanket and makes her way to the television. She puts on her comfort movie and promptly passes out after a having a sleepless night in her own bed.
When the two males return, they find her asleep with the movie long forgotten. They don't move her, but instead restart the film. They stay with her until she wakes.
The shock hits first and then something like bewilderment follows. She eats with them after that and even keeps up some light conversation.
They tell her that the situation isn't ideal, but they made the most of it and intend on doing the same with her. They comfort and hold. They keep her safe when she needs it. They spoil her when she lets them.
But most importantly, they watch the same movie with her over and over again.
On this particular occasion, she was coming home from a visit with her father. The man who basically abandoned her with unfamiliar men for the entirety of her life. It left her feeling drained and insecure. She had been prepared for this her entire life and somehow she wasn't treating Max and Charles like she knows a good wife should.
She collapses on the couch. She pays no attention to anything else and just sobs. You'd think she was injured. Maybe even dying. Though this certainly felt like death. The idea that Max and Charles will leave her one day, send her back to her father who will find some other way to use her. It makes her stomach churn.
The two males take in the scene before them. Charles hastily fumbles for the the remote and sets up the movie they've watched almost everyday for a month now. He it man enough to admit its grown on him and he has the lyrics of every song memorized and working on turning it into piano music. Max sets about getting the female upright. She goes unwilling and ends up with her head in Max's lap.
"liefde, what's got you in tears?" Max makes an attempt at drying her tears only for more to show up.
She hiccups a few times. "I'm not a good enough wife, but I'll do better I promise. Just, please, don't send me back."
Charles joins the on the couch and runs nimble fingers along her skin. "Did something happen with your father to make you think that?"
"He used to make me pretend to be a wife to some of the men who work for him." Her eyes get cloudy thinking back to the memories. Her childhood was not one she looks back at fondly. "I just want to be enough."
"Dry your tears." Max starts before she can spiral again. "It's okay, baby, you're safe here with us. You're trying your best, and we know this kind of situation isn't easy. Just let us show you we care, yes?"
She looks up to see the movie ready to be played. The soft music in the background instantly calms her. "You don't mind?"
"We can watch the same movie for the millionth time, amour." Charles laughs softly when he sees her smile. "It really is a good movie."
"Charles is jealous." Max smirks playfully. 
A genuinepang of curiosity hits her. "Of who?"
"Belle, because I'm the beast and he's obviously Gaston."
"Why am I Gaston?!"
"Because you wear red all the time, duh."
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littlelostmoth · 29 days ago
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The Final Double Exposure Post
Okay, the game is out now and just wanted to share some final thoughts about Double Exposure and the big problems with it. All spoilers below the cut.
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Ultimately, even outside of the brutal murder of Pricefield, gaming's most classic wlw couple, the game is just very poorly written. This post will acknowledge that breaking up Pricefield is terrible writing and they do not do it in a way that makes any remote sense whatsoever. While everyone can sit and say "It makes sense they broke up," it didn't. These characters are characters, ones designed to tell a story. Characters who exist as a bright spot for sapphic and queer people playing video games in 2015.
It's the same thinking as everyone used to say "Well if Nathan just had therapy, he'd be better." And to which it would be answered, "No shit, maybe he would have been better with therapy, but it's a story and he rejected going so no he didn't get better and won't get better because that's not the point of the story." Point being, you can self-justify the Pricefield break up with real world logic all you want, but the fact that even Dontnod is sad about the state of it should be telling. That in addition to the leaks about Square hating Chloe and the D9 narrative team hating her, and it was not done as a good faith way to tell a story. Ultimately, the game encourages you to choose the "Kill Chloe" ending of the original game so that Max can retain her memories of her in a pure way, while also removing her from story. If you choose what the D9 devs believe is the morally evil choice, you get horrible Chloe.
There is SOME good stuff in here, but it's not enough to justify the game's existence. Here are the short amount of pros we compiled for the game: the music is well done, the environments are very nice, and the side characters are fine for the most part.
That's it. Everything else is a con: the story, the handling of Max and Safi as characters, the entire mystery of the game basically being shafted in favor of... making the most important thing about Life is Strange the superpowers. It just seems like this game misunderstands what Life is Strange is or was at any point.
Max is so horribly out of character in this game. Why? Why does she do the things she does? Sometimes she feels like a natural adult version of the original game's Max, while other times she's overly horny to the Nth degree. Max has the ability to cheat on her two love interests, and both love interests reject her in the appropriate timelines of pursuance. Within the text of the game, she uses her powers to circumvent the fact that they've rejected her.
Remember the original game's ending? Nightmare!Max accuses Max of selfishly using her powers to manipulate others to her own selfish end. Ultimately, we're left with the fact that Max used her powers to help get others to like her because she didn't have many friends and was a target of bullying. It's morally dubious, but she wasn't doing any of it for like selfish personal gain. It was an extension of her anxiety.
This game goes around this and makes Max purposefully use her powers for selfish gain. The entire first game revolved around the concept of whether or not she was using it for selfish gain. She wasn't. Now the game forces Max to go through the same exact arc, but this time she is actively being awful instead. Not only cheating, but using it to get around being actively romantically rejected.
Then there's how the game handles its story. Like what the hell is going on here? How does any of it make sense. Spoilers again, but the mastermind is Safi, and Safi is a shapeshifter. She wants to take over with world with Max and collect her own superhumans to form a what? A Legion of Doom? Why? Why is Safi a villain? Her villain arc literally comes out of nowhere and the game does little to sell how she goes from wanting a book deal in the beginning to "I have godlike powers, let's take over the world together." Like honey, WHAT? WHY? And the fact the final choice is to join or refuse her??? LIKE WHAT? WHERE DOES IT COME FROM? WHY WOULD MAX, WHO EITHER HAD TO MAKE THE CHOICE TO SACRIFICE A TOWN OR HER LOVED ONE AND IS ETERNALLY TORMENTED OVER BOTH... SUDDENLY ONBOARD WITH BECOMING JUST A GENERIC EVIL GIRL?
And that's it??? Nothing else in the game matters. The romances go nowhere, thus making breaking up with Chloe pointless since it's not like the game allows Max to pursue a relationship seriously any further. Or just the mere fact she's shitty for doing so. None of the plot points of this game matter, and the mystery the game is built on doesn't matter.
It's like... Here's a murder mystery! Without the murder or the mystery! And then... the game just ends. It just ceases to exist and stops without any sort of... ending that feels satisfying. We get an AVENGERS LEVEL END SCREEN OF "MAX CAULFIELD WILL RETURN."
We think about the endings to the other game's endings. They all have some sort of conclusion that feels like its own self contained experience. You get this long and depressing ending of Chloe dying and her funeral... You get this wistful drive out of Arcadia Bay as Obstacles plays. You get Sean surrendering himself to the police so Daniel can live to grow old and not suffer for the sins of those older than him, and how Sean comes out after. You get to see how Chloe and Rachel grow as time passes to the first game. You get to see how Alex chooses to live her life on her own terms after so long of feeling like she was trapped. You get all of these different endings for the game and here you get... what amounts to the exact same ending depending on your choice which is to be horribly evil supervillain when the time comes or not, and then sequel bait with Diamond and Safi. Why? Why does she have a bleed from her nose? Since when did that become a common occurrence for superpowers? Or storms when powers are overused along with nightmares?
In the original game, the nosebleeds are a result of Max twists reality around her as the epicenter. It's the physical damage she gets for what her powers are physically doing to existence. The storm? The point is, we don't know why the storm comes.
When did Life is Strange become about superpowers and taking over the world? When did it become all of these things? Like True Colors isn't a perfect game by any means, but for fuck's sake it at least knew the scale of what a Life is Strange game should be. Small town mysteries with a colorful cast we love and hate. To this day, I still think that the Jed stuff is some of the most morally fascinating questions to be raised in the franchise. To have that final choice be to either forgive him or not? It's an incredible final choice that is so intertwined with the game's themes. To leave or to stay afterwards? They're both extremely meaningful, dual choices.
This game does nothing. That's ultimately it. What did we gain from Double Exposure? Nothing. It doesn't continue Max's character in any meaningful way. It does little to build upon the actual lore of the original game. It doesn't actually use any original characters except Chloe and that's solely to drive it in how much they despise her from a writing perspective.
Regardless of how well each game did at telling their stories... They all had something meaningful to say in some way. Even if Before the Storm is not a game that I'd necessarily say is amazing, there is some thought and thematic purpose put to that game. It's still 1000 times the game this will ever be.
When I was first exposed to the game's ending... the emotion I felt was pure and raw bafflement. Not anger. Not sadness. Bafflement and bewilderment. I had no idea what the fuck I just played or what I gained from it? What does Max as a character gain from this story? What do any of the characters in this game gain from the story? Nothing. The game starts and then it ends. And we all gained absolutely nothing from the experience. (And in BtS the ending is fine, because it's a prequel that has to have a clearly defined ending to lead into the first game. You can't break Chloe and Rachel's relationship, it always has to be what it is.)
For a long time I really hated the Life is Strange comics. It felt like a kick in the head to the original game's story. But then after it ended and this came out, we can view it as a more honest and genuine follow up to the games as opposed to... whatever we got here.
The comics focus heavily on Max's perceived guilt over what happened to Arcadia Bay. She comes to believe that she, herself, is the problem in reality. That she makes everyone around her unhappy, including Chloe. While Chloe reassures her this is not true... she ends up displaced and removed from reality... and punishes herself by sending her to a world where Chloe is happy with Rachel.
The rest of the story is Max and Chloe apart for years, as Max wrestles with her guilt... while Chloe waits for her. Chloe waits and knows Max is out there still. Max eventually realizes how wrong she was after self-reflection and being around the alt!Chloe and Rachel helps her realize she was wrong.
Chloe builds them a home.
Chloe comes to move past her own grief, just as Max did.
Chloe helps rebuild Arcadia with her own hands. She decides she has a home. This town, with Max. And then they're together... And that's what matters because... like Michel said: "They have each other."
And that is what Life is Strange was about. These two young women, who were best friends... they grew apart through tragedy and life circumstances... And then they found each other again, fell in love, and even in tragedy had one another to rely on.
I am who I am because of Life is Strange.
I met the love of my life because of Life is Strange.
And no matter how bad Double Exposure is... It can't take away Life is Strange, Max, or Chloe from me.
No.
It can't take them away from us. From all of us who cared enough to stick around this funny little 20$ adventure game from a decade ago.
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justmeinadaze · 6 months ago
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Created a Monster (Steddie X Kas Y/N)
Every time I hear this song this idea pops into my head but it's not what I'm used to writing per say. I wanted you guys to read like a preview and tell me if this is something you'd want more of or a one shot. Or whatever lol Just some feed back :) It's been sitting in my WIP forever but I can't stop thinking about it.
Warning: Steddie X Kas Fem Reader, mentions of grief and how much the boys miss her, I twisted some things from the show obviously. Instead of Eddie fighting, Y/N does. I also read up a bit on Kas so took some lore there. Not really expanded on in this preview but...
Word Count: 1956
Eddie and Steve stare at your gravestone as the preacher continues to spout some nonsense about young souls being angels on Earth and being called back home. No one understood what they were going through not even their friends they had fought with. You were their everything and now… you were gone. 
Steve and Robin sat in the cafeteria of the hospital picking at their food as they waited for Eddie to join them. For the past four months they had been visiting Max while continuing to be moral support for Lucas. Neither boy would let on how jealous they actually were of the former Hellfire member. At least he could still hold his girlfriend’s hand…see her face…kiss her cheek.
“The doctor’s said she’s showing improvement.”, Robin mused as she took a bite of bland rice in front of her. 
“That’s good. She’s a good kid who’s been through too much. She deserves to have a full life.”
His friend nods in understanding, scanning Steve over before reaching for his hand. 
“This is a stupid question but how are you doing?”
“I’m, um, I’m surviving. Eddie’s trying to keep it together for the guys but we’re both kind of floundering.”, he chuckles as he places his fork down and leans back. “I miss her laugh. Every time Munson would tell a joke, she would close her eyes and scrunch her nose… so cute.”
“Yeah, she was.”, his friend softly murmured. “She loved you two more than anything. Y/N would talk about you both nonstop to an annoying degree.”
When Robin playfully rolls her eyes, they both laugh almost uncontrollably until his gradually shift into sobs. Rising to her feet, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and in turn he does the same, his fingers digging almost painfully into her back. 
“I miss her so much.”
***
When both boys finally made it back home, Eddie silently flopped down on the couch as he grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. Since your passing, the metalhead had moved into the living room since their apartment only had one bedroom. Without you between them they saw no point in sharing anymore. Steve never said anything to contradict but he wished his friend had stayed. Even though they were never intimate in the dynamic, he would have rather shared a bed with his friend than be alone. It was just more of a reminder that you were gone. 
“Another group of men were found dead today outside of their homes, stabbed through the chest, and with nothing stolen or motive perceived from Hawkins PD. We reached out to reinstated Chief Hopper for comment but at this time none was given.”
“Something we should be worried about you think?”, Steve asked as he came up behind his friend to watch the tv.
“I mean, as long as they aren’t blaming me, I’d say no.”
“It doesn’t seem like Vecna either. No broken bones or eyes caved in—” Rising to his feet, Eddie hastily turned off the tv and reached for his jacket. “Eddie—”
“I agree. No Vecna. I’m, um, I’m going to go for a walk.”
“Is this how it’s always going to be?! Are we just going to be awkward around each other now? She wouldn’t have wanted that, Ed.”
A smooth, sarcastic laugh escaped the metalhead’s lips as he turned to face his friend. 
“Yeah? Well, I wanted her here and she’s fucking dead. We both don’t get what we want.”
“So, you’re just going to sully her memory like that?”
“Oh, fuck you, Harrington! She’s the one that ran off even though I told her not to move. She’s the one that decided to fight instead of listening to you and not being a hero. She’s the one who DIED IN MY FUCKING ARMS!” As his voice cracked, he paused to collect himself. “Y/N’s gone. She doesn’t get a say anymore.”
With that he turned on his heels and slammed the door. 
“He’s always been really hot headed hasn’t he?”, the vision of you giggles as you kick your feet against the counter. 
Steve never told anyone for fear of coming off as insane but this is how he processed you no longer being around; he pretended you weren’t gone.
“Yeah, just like you.”
“Excuse me! I was stubborn but not ‘hot headed’, jerk.”
His head hung at the word “was” as his bottom lip began to tremble. Jumping off the counter, you slide over till you were just inches from his side. Even though you weren’t really there, he swore he could smell you.
“Steve, baby, look at me. He’ll be ok… you both will.”
Shaking his head, he wiped the tears that had begun to fall but when he moved his hands away the image of you disappeared. 
“I love you, honey. I miss you so much.”
############
Eddie pulled his hood over his head as he powerwalked in what he thought was no particular direction. Even after being exonerated people still scowled and hurled insults his way. The ones that hurt him the most were the ones about you. 
Because they couldn’t bring your body back, it was assumed you had died with everyone else. Your family still held on to hope but in the worst way. You parents used to love him and Steve, treating them both like family but after Chrissy’s death everything shifted. They told you to stay away from him and in turn you told them to fuck off. 
Anytime they saw Eddie, they begged him to tell them where you were or where your body was so they could properly grieve. He ignored them as best he could but it killed him because he knew the truth. That’s something he and Nancy could connect on. Every time she told him about her experiences with Barb it comforted him to an extent. He hoped one day he could give them peace like her friend’s parents got. 
Stumbling over his feet, the metalhead finally took note of his surroundings realizing he had walked to Hawkins Cemetery. Sighing heavily, he gave in and let his feet continue to lead him till he was in front of your plot. 
“Y/N Y/L/N. 1986. Loving Friend, Daughter, and Girlfriend.” 
“Fucking basic shit. You were way more than that.”, he grumbled as he took a seat facing your stone. 
“I’m angry with you; so fucking angry. I told you to go up the rope but you insisted I go so I could catch you like Steve had. I should have known better. How could you do that? How could you leave us like that?!”
“I didn’t do it by choice.”, the vision of you replied in a sad but calm tone as you sat on top of your own stone. Eddie’s jaw tightened as he looked in the opposite direction. “Still ignoring me?”
“You’re not real.”
“True…but it helps Steve. At least that’s what you hope after hearing him talk out loud to me the other night. He really hates being alone, you know? He wants to talk to you but—”
“I can’t talk about you with people. Not yet.”
“Ok, then don’t talk about me. Maybe talk about D&D or Steve’s day. Anything else. Eddie, just because I’m gone doesn’t mean you two stop being friends.”
“Don’t preach to me, babe. I don’t want to hear it.”
“What do you want to hear?”
“Nothing. That’s all I ever fucking hear now. I don’t hear your stories about work or your family. I don’t hear you laughing at my jokes or your sarcasm when you’re making fun of Steve for his lack of movie knowledge. I don’t hear your fucking breath in the middle of the night when you’re sleeping or see you bite your lip when you’re thinking about something complicated. I don’t feel your fingers in my hair when I’m lying on the floor listening to music or your lips against mine. Why, Y/N? Because you’re fucking DEAD!”
The vision of you watched with sympathetic eyes as his shoulders shook and he sobbed in his hands. After a few minutes, he wiped his nose on his sleeve, finding you sitting cross legged in front of him with your knees inches from his own. 
“I don’t know how to live without you, sweetheart.”
“Eddie… I never loved anyone on this planet as much as I loved you and Steve. If it meant keeping you both safe…I would die again.”
“It was our job to protect you.”
“And you did such an amazing job.”
Shaking his head, he glanced towards a tree in the distance before turning your way to find you gone. 
“I love you, baby.”
################
Steve’s eyes snap open at the sound of glass breaking before quickly grabbing his bat and slowly stalking to the kitchen. 
“Jesus Christ!”
“I just go by Eddie but…” They both exasperatedly laughed as the other boy lowered his weapon. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I just left the cemetery and I didn’t realize it was so fucking late.”
“Did, um, were you going to see her?”
He could have responded sarcastically but your words lingered in his mind. 
“Yeah… I just needed to hash some things out with her.”
“I know how you feel. Sometimes I get really angry at her to but then I get confused because I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Yeah.”, Eddie laughs as well. “Fuck, this sucks.”
As his friend nodded, a shadow on the wall caught the former jocks attention. It looked like a figure but that can’t be right because they were on the fourth floor of their complex. Just as he began to glance to find out what it was, their window shattered causing both men to fall to the ground and cover their heads. 
Steve recovered first, swiftly grabbing his bat and blocking the weapon that begun to swing down towards the metalhead. To his surprise it did stop it but as soon as he pushed the figure back, the bat cut cleanly in half. It took him a few seconds to realize the stranger in front of him was wielding a sword causing him to duck out of the way as the person continued swinging it at him. 
While trying to find something to defend himself with, he heard Eddie call his name and turned just in time to see him slide another sword his way. 
“Isn’t this fake?!”
“Please! We’re nerds! Do you think Y/N and I would buy anything fake!?”
Just as Steve unsheathed the weapon, it clinked loudly against the strangers. Both beings went toe to toe with the pretty boy surprising even himself. He got too cocky, however, lowering his guard just enough for the figure to punch his chest knocking the wind out of him as he fell to the floor. 
The armor the figure was wearing loudly tapped against each other as they stepped forwards and pointed their weapon at Steve’s throat. With wide eyes, he watched as the person took off their helmet and casually tossed it to the ground as their hair fell around their face.
“Y/N?”
The boy whined as you tilted the sharp weapon up towards his chin causing him to stretch his face out of the way. 
“My master sends his regards.”, you hiss as you step back and raise your sword. 
Before you can do anything, something hard collides with your head and you faint to the ground.
“Ok, I’m not dreaming right? Or hallucinating?”, Eddie asked as he reached for Steve’s hand to help him off the ground. 
“No, dude. At least I don’t think so…”
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comet-forgot-you · 4 months ago
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HI ITS ME AGAIN BACK AT IT- Loved my last request so I thought I’d keep you on ur toes and give inspo
Vampire!Amber ( bc I’m a sucker for her ) x Werewolf!Reader, maybe like an established relationship from the last one but it’s secret, their team lost a match.. oh shit I’m already giggling and kicking my feet thinking about it.. ANYWAYS BYEEE
-🐦‍⬛anon
🐦‍⬛ anon ily. i honestly got a super off track but i will definitely rewrite it later to fit the ask better IM SORRY
smut. 18+ pls.
do not repost for any reason.
it was partially your fault that you lost today’s game. you were out of it, your senses were heightened to the max, but not any that could even remotely help you win the game, no. instead, your senses were on amber like never before. you could smell her so strongly, her perfume, her shampoo, even the sweat that coated her body. you could smell it all a lot stronger than you had before. and you could hear her heartbeat from the other side of the court, you could hear her shallow breath as she sprinted across the court. you werent sure what was happening.
amber knew, though. she knew the moment she saw you, smelt you really. she knew how horny you were before the game even started. she knew she had two options. she could fuck it out of you before the game started, or she could make it worse for you so the fuck after the game would be even better.
she chose the second option of course. she had dragged you into the bathroom of the locker room as everyone filtered out to the court, placing a hand on your mouth to quiet the sounds that were certain to leave your lips. she pressed a kiss to your neck, trailing down and tugging your jersey to the side. “you’re so pretty baby,” she mumbled against the skin, a muffled whimper leaves your lips. “can i taste?” you nod as best you could and thats all it takes for amber to sink her teeth into your flesh, your blood filling her mouth. she groans at the taste, she could taste how fucking horny you were.
amber nearly loses focus at the taste of your blood, but she’s quick to regain control of her own urges, letting her aphrodisiac laced venom fill the wound she had created. she pulls back, licking up any extra blood that threatens to stain your jersey. “taste so good, as always, baby,” she mutters, pressing a bloody kiss to your lips.
that was all before the game, and now, after? she was angry. at herself, partially, you even less, but angry at the rest of the team. they played like it was their first time playing, their movements groggy. god, if she knew thats how they would be playing, she wouldnt have urged your arousal on further than what it already was.
you were still completely tuned into all of amber, your senses seemingly only tuned in on her. your head was foggy, filled with her, eyes half lidded as your heart pounded in your chest. the ache between your thighs had become so unbearable, you needed amber to make it go away.
you leaned back against the cold metal of the lockers, hoping it would cool your heated skin even just a little bit. your teammates gathered their things, heads hung low as they hurried to get out.
amber was on the complete opposite side of the locker room. you could feel the anger radiating off of her and it only spurred your need for her on even further. god you’ve never needed her like you needed her now.
the second the locker room is empty, leaving just the two of you, you break the thick silence between you. “amber,” you whimper out pathetically, your thighs squeezing together pathetically.
amber’s in front of you in the blink of an eyes, settled down on her knees, staring up at your half lidded eyes. “oh my poor girl,” she says almost mockingly. “made such a mess, huh?” you nod pathetically, your hips bucking up to meet absolutely nothing. amber’s thumb strokes your cunt through your uniform.
“please, ambs, need you so bad. it hurts so bad, i need you to make it go away.” your words seem to pick her anger apart, the usual cocky tone in your voice long gone, traded in for a whiner tone, one so full of desperation it gives amber her own ache between her thighs.
“you’re so lucky right now,” she mumbles before pulling the bottoms of your uniform down, leaving your cunt to meet the cold air of the locker room. you hiss quietly as amber blows her own cold air against your warm cunt, her cold hands gripping onto your thighs. you want so desperately to close them, to let them help with the almost painful ache, but you know better. you know that whatever amber was about to give you would be thousands of times better than what squeezing your thighs together would do.
and youre completely right. amber’s mouth meets your warm pussy in an instant, her tongue lapping up the sticky mess you had made. you mind was clouded, full of need for your girl. amber’s tongue prods at your entrance, desperately trying to get as much of your juices as she possibly could before bringing you to your orgasm.
your hips buck up against her, your clit hitting her nose so perfectly you cant help the loud moan that falls from your lips. “im sorry,” you mumble out quickly, your hand moving to cover your mouth. amber shakes her head from her place between your thighs, tearing your hand away from your mouth.
“i wanna hear you, pretty girl,” she mumbles against your cunt. the vibrations force another loud moan to leave your lips. you can feel her smile against your cunt, before she continues her actions, lapping at your cunt so desperately, as if she needed you as badly as you needed her.
she did.
you’re so sensitive, every move amber makes against your cunt has you teetering on the edge of your orgasm. your stomach tenses, thighs trembling slightly. youre close. you and amber both know it.
“amber, im gonn-“ you cant even finish your sentence before youre coming undone against her tongue. youre breathless, guilt pooling in the pit of your stomach. or was that arousal? “im sorry, i didnt mean to, amber. i couldnt help it im sorry,” tears brim your eyes as your desperate eyes stare into amber’s lust filled ones.
“its okay baby, i know you couldnt help it. youre so worked up, couldnt keep it in, hmm?” you nod, feeling a little tired. amber kisses her way around your thighs before pressing a featherlight kiss to your pulsing clit. you’re already ready for more, already dripping at the thought of amber fucking you more.
“need more, ‘m sorry,” you whisper, pulling amber up to meet your lips by her jersey.
“dont be sorry, baby. you know i have plenty to give. just come to mine, ill give you as much as you need,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
and she does. she keeps true to her promise and you had never been more thankful for her inability to sleep than tonight. she fucked you good, using every single thing she could give you to bring you to your orgasm over and over and over again. she didnt stop until you had passed out on her, exhaustion becoming more than your arousal. but even then amber was still succumbing to your neediness, grinding down against her thigh whilst you slept.
amber had never seen you so horny before, but she loved every single second of it.
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darthgloris · 1 year ago
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hello to my beautiful mutual! first of all, congratulations on your milestone, you deserve it! your writing is literally everything to me.
i’m more than happy to participate in your event, so i was thinking the letter “k” (nsfw alphabet) for the arranged marriage au would be so fun.
- max :)
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) - suitless!Vader, arranged marriage AU
A/N: hi @antxlss :DDD tysm for participating, I love the arranged marriage trope!!! I'm gonna presume u mean suitless!Vader, otherwise send me another ask and I'll write that for u too 🥰 btw I accidentally wrote a little about the letter I (= intimacy) of NFSW alphabet so I hope that's okay :)
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When the Emperor told him he'd be marrying a woman he barely knew, Vader was certainly hesitant: the memory of his deceased wife Padmè, however remote, still lived in the back of his mind, and the grief that had grown to hatred was gradually taking over his heart, making his ability to love scarce.
He didn't know how to go about in this relationship, the patented blend of touch starvation and lack of experience with romantic intimacy had affected his attitude in the past decade. He refused to berate or beat the woman, no, that is beneath him, but he couldn't force himself to fall for her, and he didn't want to: as proven by his previous relationships, it was going to end at one point, and he'd once again find himself abandoned by the very person he loved.
He was, however, well aware that the purpose of the marriage was to give the Emperor an heir to fulfill the Rule of Two, and the thought of a woman giving him a child was somewhat enticing to him, but without intimacy, it seemed pointless to him. A simple way to describe it would be that he was expecting for things to be awkward.
After the two of you get married, they are, in fact, awkward.
You don't know exactly what to say to each other, every form of affection feels forced, the meetings with the Emperor were draining. But slowly, little by little, you start to see him for who he really is. He's no Sith, no stoic and unfeeling man: he's affectionate and loving and would very well die for those he loves. So when one day you choose to call him "Anakin" instead of "Vader", his vulnerable side peeks through for the first time in your relationship.
Over time, you begin to grow comfortable with each other, and whenever you have sex, he'd get more and more passionate every time. He'd usually focus almost only on your pleasure, eating you out until you cry, fingering just the right spot to make you scream, holding your hand while he fucked you, peppering your face with kisses when you were both done, then pulling out of you and cleaning you up. 'The treatment angels should get', he says. But when the baby fever comes, any trace of rational thought was out the window. Of course, the thought of filling you with his children makes the blood rush to his cock in an instant.
He can't wait to stuff you full of his cum and wake up next to you every morning and seeing your belly swelling and growing within the next nine months. He loves it when you ride him, he wants to be buried into you as deep as he can to increase the chance of conception. The mere idea of your round, swollen stomach and breasts heavy from maternal milk makes him grip your hips and fuck his cock deeper into you, slamming his hips up into your loose, begging hole. He swears he could cum from hearing your screams and sobs of pleasure alone.
"That's my girl, good momma."
"You handled those kids so well, maybe I should try and fuck one into you."
"There you go, angel, there you go. Full of my cock, full of my cum... can't wait till you're full of my babies."
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dirtylittlecubbs · 8 months ago
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❥ Pairing ➳ Seungmin x Minho x Jeongin
❥ Genre ➳ Smut
❥ Word Count ➳ 940
❥ Warnings ➳ Slight humiliation, overstimulation, light bondage, dacryphilia, mxm, blowjob, sub/Dom dynamics, proof read only once, absolute filth
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Seungmin's wrists are tied together above his head and Jeongin is holding down his legs to stop him from squirming to much. He's whining and his eyes are watery, tears threatening to spill down his red hot cheeks. The vibrations of the cock ring are set on medium right now and Seungmin can feel himself moving closer and closer to the edge the longer it stimulates the base of his weeping cock.
He's begging Minho to let him cum, to take the ring off and let him feel that sweet sweet release but Minho is feeling just a little bit extra mean today. Seungmin is just to cute when he's like this. "Aww Innie look, poor puppy is so desperate to cum he's crying~" the chuckle Jeongin let's out only makes Seungmin choke out a sob.
"P-please Hyung I need i-it! Please l-let me cum I p-promise I'll be good! Please!" Seungmin whines. Seungmin is usually a brat in bed but restrain him and take away any possibility for control on his part and he becomes a sobbing, begging mess.
Minho coos at Seungmin, a condescending gesture that in any other situation, would have Seungmin scoff and roll his eyes at the older. But all he can manage is a quiet whimper as more liquid squeezes out his reddend cock at the humiliation. In front of his younger too.
Minho shifts down the bed slightly and dips his head down dangerously close to Seungmin's cock. Jeongin grins when he realizes what Minho is planning and swiftly reaches for the remote discarded near Seungmin's thighs before moving back to hold down the olders' legs. Without giving Seungmin any kind of warning, Minho wraps his mouth around Seungmin's cockhead.
Seungmin wails, tugging on the restraints around his wrists as Minho sinks lower and lower on his cock stopping just above the vibrating ring. A seemingly endless mantra of 'please' and 'Hyung' leaves Seungmin's lips as more tears spill past his eyes that are tightly screwed shut.
Minho only bobs his head a few times making Seungmin keen. He gives Jeongin a quick glance before turning his attention back to Seungmin's cock. The younger immediately knows what to do. "Seungminnie Hyung." He calls to Seungmin. Seungmin doesn't answer or even open his eyes, to hyperfocused on the way Minho's tongue feels as it traces the veins along the underside of his cock.
Jeongin tries calling him again, giving his thigh a bruising pinch and he seems to hear him this time. He prys his eyes open and looks down at Jeongin who has a devilish grin plastered on his face as he waves the remote for the cock ring around slightly.
Seungmin's eyes go wide, understanding immediately what the younger is planning to do. He opens his mouth to protest but the only sound that comes out is a strangled moan as Jeongin ups the level on the cock ring to max, while Minho still has his lips wrapped around his cock.
Seungmin's eyes roll to the back of his head and his hips jerk upwards involuntarily. Words have abandoned him at this point and all he can do his writhe in pleasure and pain, wailing, moaning, crying and leaking into Minho's warm mouth. "A-ah! Ah! Aa-" is the only sound echoing through the room.
Once Minho thinks Seungmin's had enough, he releases Seungmin's cock with a 'pop' and takes the remote from Jeongin. He turns off the cock ring and Jeongin moves to take it off. The moment the ring is off all it takes is a few pumps from Jeongin and Seungmin's cum is shooting out of his cock.
There's so much of it. Minho and Jeongin stare in fascination as cum is still spilling out of Seungmin's cock more than thirsty seconds later. Some getting onto his stomach and even up his chest. Minho whistles at the spectacle before him and looks up at Seungmin's writhing figure.
His eyes are rolled back, mouth hanging open with his tongue lolling out to the side, a trail of drool running down the side of his face. His chest is rising and falling as he pants, trying to catch his breathe. He seems to finally be coming down from his high, his muscles relaxing, spasming slightly every few seconds.
Jeongin almost instinctively reaches for his phone and snaps more than a few pictures of his absolutely ruined Hyung. "Make sure to send me those later" Minho says and Jeongin hums affirmatively. When Seungmin finally comes down from his high he makes eye contact with Jeongin and then Minho.
"There you are puppy~" Minho coos and Seungmin whimpers lightly. "Y-you've had your f-fun," Seungmin mumbles out, completely spent. "Are we d-done?" He asks looking up at the two. Minho and Jeongin glance at each other for a brief second before they turn back to Seungmin, both smiling eerily sweetly.
"You know the rules Puppy...Innie and I haven't cum yet." Minho remind Seungmin and Seungmin's eyes widen. There's absolutely no way he can handle either of them right now, or so he thinks. Despite the pleasurable torture he was just put through his cock twitches lightly in excitement. It doesn't go unnoticed by the two men hovering over him.
Minho's smirks and gently drags his finger along Seungmin's slowly hardening length making him shiver. "Looks like you aren't satisfied yet either." "It'd be mean of us if we left you hanging right Hyung?" Jeongin chimes in, his hand slowly reaching for the belt on his jeans. Seungmin whines but that delicious aching in his stomach returns and it's begging to be satisfied.
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╭✧────────── ・ 。゚☆ *.☽ .* ☆゚. ──────────✧╮
@skzms @starlostastronaut @stayconnecteed
Edit: The inspiration for this. Seungmin's entire segment actually.
╰✧────────── ・ 。゚☆ *.☽ .* ☆゚. ──────────✧╯
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© 143-hornycore 2024 | Do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto other platforms without my ppermissio.
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sol-consort · 21 days ago
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How do you think the mass effect species would feel about camping?
Like marshmallows, and spooky stories around the campfire to scare the kids, style camping?
Camping
[General, Alien species]
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Salarians
You'd expect the species stereotyped to spend 70% of their limited lifespan in sterile labs to be a fish out of water when it comes to nature's domain
But you'd be wrong
Salarians are little camping freaks
What else do you expect from a haven tropical world such as theirs?
The open spaces incorporated into their infrastructure give way for the flora to intertwine around their buildings
The warm sun, the light breeze, the chirping of birds
As far as salarians are considered, camping is like a trip back home
The dirt, the mud, the smooth rocks even feel just right against their skin
Much like humans get lost staring into the swirling campfire's flames for too long—an ancient habit nurtured by our stone age days
Salarians are not so far off when it comes to forests and lakes
Not to mention the delicious bugs
Oh yes.
You have the urge to pick a berry from a Mystery Bush out in the forest and munch on it
While your salarian fishing buddy has been eyeing the fly buzzing around your opened sugary drink
They Thrive capital T in the grassy fields
The humid atmosphere does wonders to their skin
Mosquitos never bother them
Life is good as a salarian camping
Most of their childhood was spent diving into lakes and playing around trees in Sur'kesh's lush forests
Daring each other to lick rocks
Easily holding their breath underwater for an extended amount of time
With their photographic memory, there was no fear of ever getting lost
A lot of human cautionary horror tales about kids straying too far into the forest never work on Salarians
"Why didn't they just turn around and leave? It's not that hard"
"What do you mean all trees look the same? No, they don't. They're extremely different. You'd be blind to mix one with another."
The human camping experience seems a little excessive to them in comparison
Why do you have to start a fire? Can't you just eat raw things or pack nutrition bars.
Why so are your tents so big and flimsy?
They only sleep an hour max so they never bother with tents while camping
Simply taking a power nap in a folding plastic chair is all the rest they need
They're more solitary than humans, so a tribal species including them in such activities feels strange at first.
Not bad strange, just new.
The cooperative experience of setting up the tents
Picking roommates and dividing chores to get dinner ready and a fire going before nightfall
Eating at the same time around the fireplace, exchanging stories whilst in a circle
Then it's time for dessert as the stories get more dramatic and spooky
Always accompanying another person when they want to wander into the forest
Whether it's to take a piss or pocket some cool shiny rocks before the crows get to it
The Buddy System
It's incredibly intimate for a salarian
At one point they wonder if the humans are going to make them cuddle in one big pile for heat like they did in their primal days
Like other tribal species they've observed do
The salarian spends all day mentally preparing for it
And just as the first human begins to yawn, infecting the rest with their sleepiness
The salarian thinks oh! This must be It!
Here it comes!
...except everyone just retires to their own tents
Which boogles the salarian mind even harder
You spent all day together, practically attached at the hip
But when you're sleeping—arguably the most vulnerable hours you humans spend defenceless and unconscious
The optimal time for a predetor to strike
You suddenly crave independence so badily??
Fine. Go have your rest.
The salarian will stay awake to keep watch
And scream murder if anything remotely bear shaped makes itself known from behind a tree
Definitely just to ensure the safety of the humans yes
And absolutely not because that story one human told about that unusually slender man in a suit is looping in their brain
They're not scared of him or of the weird collectable letters he litters around!
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smooth-perceval · 1 year ago
Text
“My love, my life.”
“It’s okay- it was nothing important anyways.”
Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader
PART THREE
Max Corner
Summary: [Max and reader crossed the line in their 3 year friendship, resulting in 2 positive pregnancy test. And 1 baby on the way.]
Max runs once again, leaving you questioning his true intentions. It wasn’t until Lando invited you along to Silverstone, home GP, you finally understand what’s going on.
Warnings: swearing, angst, Max being a dick, Max&Kelly together, fake relationship, mentions of J.Verstappen, Google translate, no proof read, my bad writing.
Key: Y/N (your name) Y/L/N (Your last name)
Word count: 3,256
A/N: So I put ‘Max&Kelly’ as a warning, not because I dislike any present or previous wags, it’s just like a pre warning that Max is not ‘solo’ I suppose- it’s just there so we’re not shocked when it happens. 🌝 Hope you enjoy 👀 let’s pretend the photo of Lissie is us 🙂
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Well once again Max went awol… and I was finally washing my hands with him, the hot and cold, cat and mouse it wasn’t going to end well- it never does.
He won the Canadian GP, and out of pure kindness I sent him a congratulations message… only for it to be seen and not responded to.
That’s when I knew Max was only down for one thing- and every word he said was pure bullshit.
Lando kept me updated on everything happening around the paddock, a few times mentioning Max, sure I wanted to know how he was… what he was up to… why has he just left so much stuff unsaid… why the fuck is he leaving me in the dark- but instead of asking- I would simply type back a short message, or a little smile and nod of my head…
“Landiniho 🏎️”
I’m gonna ft in 5 x
Sending a quick reply, I held my phone nearby grabbing the tv remote and turning the volume down.
Within less that 5 minutes Lando was calling. And just as quickly I answered, both smiling wide at each other.
“Hey, what are you doing next week?”
“Hello to you to Lan-” laughing a little I then shrugged my shoulders picking at the cushion next to me. “Nothing planned- except watching your home race.” Smiling a little I side eyed him. “Are you excited?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Quickly waving me off, I then noticed the background of where he was- he wasn’t even in his hotel room but sitting in the lobby.
“How about you come with me to Silverstone?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, before laughing a little.
“Come back home…?” Humming I titled my head- it seemed quite a simple answer… I could see my parents, visit some friends… and I can be with company instead of alone at home.
“Yeah, back home!” He sat up straight already knowing my answer.
“Okay, you’ll come with me to my parents right?…” he nodded his head quickly.
“I haven’t seen them in ages… so your gonna definitely come?”
“Yes, I suppose soooo…” rolling my eyes playfully with a smile.
“Okay good! I’ll sort everything out just get packed cause I kinda need to fly you out like tomorrow…” nodding my head slowly, “I’ll have to bring all my work stuff Lan- laptop the lot…” mumbling I start shuffling some paperwork together.
“That’s fine- just get pac- yeah?” He turned away from the camera looking over at someone else.
“Yeah- she is coming to Silverstone…” furrowing my eyebrows my eyes darted around the screen to try and see who his talking to.
“No. Call her yourself.” Lando moved his phone now I was looking over his shoulder at the seat behind him.
“No.”
“Lan- what’s going on.” Quickly moving the phone back to his face.
“I’ll text you the details- I’ve gotta go… Max fuck of-” the call ended, leaving me sitting there confused and in shock.
Lando was right he can call me himself… why wouldn’t he just pick up his own phone and dial my number… dickhead.
Shaking my head I tossed my phone aside going upstairs to start packing, I packed enough for a week, hoping to spend enough time with family, and packing a separate bag for all my work stuff. The perks of working from home!
Within the hour Lando sent me all the details over telling me he will meet me at the airport, him only arriving around 30 minutes before me.
When laying in bed I could only think what Max had wanted… why was he trying to take Lando’s phone, why couldn’t he just call me himself or even text… I tossed and turned before finally rocking myself to sleep. I guess I’ll soon find out.
** 6:15 A.M **
The sound of my alarm cracked through my dreams pulling me back to reality, my eyes slowly opening and adjusting to the light creeping in my room.
Switching the alarm off I slowly climbed out of my bed getting ready for the airport. I should’ve gone to bed earlier… my body ached- and I felt my stomach churn, making quick effort to go down and get my anti-sickness tablets taking one and stuffing the rest in my carry on.
Anti-sickness tablets are like my breakfast at the moment… the first thing I take when I wake up. It’s now somewhat a routine, this baby is really doing it’s number on me, if I wasn’t tired all the time and being sick, I was angry or crying…
Now I’m sitting at roughly 8 or 9 weeks, a few more weeks and I get to see the baby again- and I cannot wait. It’s crazy to think what a woman’s body is capable of doing-
I was away with the fairy’s while walking through the airport, checking my suitcases e.t.c, e.t.c. I could only imagine what it will be like when I’m home with my parents, seeing Lando again, old friends… hopefully Max.
Just to know what went on- what I did wrong to make him ignore me like he has… just curious.
When on the plane I got some extra sleep, not that I could help it. Like I said I am exhausted all the time… I dozed off as soon as I put my seatbelt on, missing the takeoff and only woke up just before landing. And even now I could just shut my eyes again…
Widening my eyes forcing them awake, I rubbed my face looking out the window.
Back in England, it was summertime here… and it was lovely.
As soon as I left the plane I felt the sun kiss my cheeks.
Perfect.
I sent Lando a message saying I had landed and asking where to meet him, but as soon as I looked up from my phone he was already waiting there at the gate. Cap pulled down, sunglasses on, and even in this weather a hoodie pulled right up to try and cover as much of his face as possible.
Smiling a little I rushed over to him arms open wide forgetting my suitcases and bags behind me as they cluttered to the floor.
“Back home babbyyy!” Gripping him tightly, he let out a laugh practically throwing us side to side, before resting me back onto my feet.
“Welcome home.” He smiled once again, and as if we was little kids we both started jumping on the spot, falling back into a tight embrace “oh I’ve missed it.” Pulling away I ran over collecting my items, following Lando out the airport.
The whole time telling him all the new things I’ve discovered with the pregnancy. Like morning sickness really isn’t just ‘morning sickness.’ Well I mean I new that weeks ago… but still. It should be called any time of the day sickness.
Lando chipped in asking little questions here and there, before the big question landed.
“What’s Max been like with it all? Has he been encouraging?” Nudging me with a slight tease in his voice. But it only cause my smile to drop slowly.
“I haven’t heard from him…” Lando spun around from facing the car staring at me. “You haven’t? Didn’t you guys sort it all a few weeks ago?” I started chewing at my bottom lip nervously, quickly thanking one of the airport staff for putting my bags in the car.
“Sort of…” I wiped my hands on myself, clearing my throat and climbing into the car. Ignoring the stare off Lando.
“Sort of?” As if he knew the answer he shook his head.
“So you went back to square one.”
“Lan I don’t need the lecture. It was my own fault this time.” Sighing I rubbed my temple leaning my head against the window.
“I’m not… okay, sorry. I’m sorry.” Touching my arm gently I turned looking at him, before he pulled me into a hug. “It’s gonna be alright you know.” I only responded with a slightly nod of my head. “Just wish he would want this as much as I do… but I can’t force him…”
Rubbing my back gently he pulled away with a reassuring smile. “His just an odd guy, I’m sure his just worried okay… but you can do this.”
Pausing for a moment “Y/N and uncle Lando right?”
Laughing a little I nod my head. “Yes, yes unless I give the rights to Charles”
Lando let out a fake gasp before leaning back in his seat. “Don’t ever threaten my uncle rights again.” Smiling to myself I looked back out the window. The driver slowly pulling away.
Lando slept most of the journey- and sure I was a little nosey when his phone kept going off… side eyeing it, I see Max blowing his phone up… and I could only wish it was mine- even at the sight of his name, I felt tingles all over my body. Like his touched had once burned on me.
Sighing at myself, I shuffled closer to Lando resting my head against his shoulder. Slowly closing my eyes and letting my worries got with it.
My worries being facing Max.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-” repeatedly with each time he said my name Lando poked my forehead.
Flinching slightly when he poked again I sat up slowly rubbing my eyes.
“Your so fucking annoying…” my voice was hoarse and barely audible from the sleep.
“We’re here!” Smiling excitedly he climbs out the car quickly, first thought was him going over to fans and taking photos.
Sighing once again I make sure I looked like hadn’t just woken up- before climbing out behind him, I start helping getting out bags out, when Lando comes over quickly grabbing both the heavy suitcases.
“You can’t lift heavy things remember-”
Rolling my eyes and smiling, I pull the handle of my suitcases up and roll into the hotel, giving a few small waves to shouting fans of Lando’s.
Finally getting up to my room, Lando only a few doors down. I flopped onto the bed letting out a happy groan, from my aching body.
Pulling my phone out I read some messages, before going into insta and putting a post up.
@YOURINSTAGRAMNAME.
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Liked by landonorris and 244,873 others
@YOURINSTAGRAMNAME. -
Sky was painted for you Landiniho 🧡
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And finally I was able to relax, I planned on visiting my parents after Sundays race, as everything leading up to then is crazy- and I didn’t want to drag Lando down to them while the weekend commenced.
It wasn’t long before Lando was knocking the door and demanding I opened it.
“What?” Annoyed I glared at him the door nearly hitting the wall as I pulled it open.
“I’m hungry, let’s go eat-” if he wasn’t offering food I probably would have strangled him… however he did, so he dodge a bullet.
In silence I grabbed my room key, phone, and other necessities before following Lando down to the elevator. “Can we go to the lovely restaurant down the road?” Looking over at Lando excitedly, smiling he nodded his head pressing for the ground floor. And as if on cue my belly started to grumble. Which only made us both burst into laughter.
Dinner was lovely, me and Lan spent the evening joking around and just enjoying company of one another- it washed away all my nerves, and I finally felt at ease being back home.
With arms linked we took a slow walk back to the hotel, and just for once I felt like the world seemed to get off my shoulders.
“Don’t you ever think to move back home? And raise the baby here?”
I come to an abrupt stop before continuing to walk with him- like I was reseted. “I never thought of it…” mumbling quietly to him I rest my head against his arm. “Monaco is my home too-”
“But- I mean this in the nicest way…”
Stopping himself he turns looking down at me. “You have nobody in Monaco.”
And there it was, the weight of the world again, I know he means well but it was sure a kick in the gut when he said it…
“I have you?”
“I’m not always there-”
“I’m fine, by myself.”
“But what about if you ever need anyone? What about when you go into labour?” Lando started walking again arm slung over my shoulders.
“I do have some friends there.”
“Friends that you can trust with your baby?”
Humming, I look down at the floor as we walk, he had a point… who am I trying to kid- I wouldn’t trust anyone but him or family with my baby… let alone some friends I see once in a blue moon.
“Maybe it’s something to think about…” sighing I then look up at the stars in the sky, questioning which person I have pissed off to cause this much chaos in my life.
“I just want you to be happy Y/N” he gestured for me to go into the lobby first before following behind. “That’s all I ever want for you.” Smiling over my shoulder at him j waisted for him to walk next to me before bumping shoulders.
“As do I, you deserve the world Lan.”
We finally separated at our doors, Lando disappearing down the hall once I was in my room- I took a shower and got into bed ready for this weekend and what it’s to bring, because I got myself a friend called Lando, and with Lando I felt okay.
**FRIDAY FREE PRACTICE**
I was panicking, I could potentially bump into Max today- and the way my hormones are going I’d probably end up crying if I even catch a glance of him…
Staring at myself in the mirror, I smoothed out my orange shorts, tilting my head before turning to the side. Shaking my head smiling to myself- I leave the bathroom grabbing my bag, phone, room key- and whatever else I thought may come in handy.
Agreeing to meet Lando in reception, I made my way out to the elevator trying to be as quiet as possible- seeing as how early it was in the morning.
Humming quietly to myself I waited for the elevator to arrive. Swaying slightly to my own song in my head-
“Oh hi-” glancing over my shoulder there he was.
In all his glory- Max.
And weirdly enough I felt nothing… I felt no anger, no sadness, no happiness. Nothing for him right now. So with a tight lipped smile, I whispered a hello before turning back to the elevator.
“I’ve er- I’ve wanted to talk to you…” he stepped forward standing next to me, at a distance that screams more than friendship-
“Oh really? What about?” Biting my lip praying the elevator arrives sooner rather that later.
“It’s more of a private matter…” looking around as if he was nervous of getting caught- which only caused me to look around also.
“Well, I’m sure it was nothing important otherwise you would’ve-” my voice soon trailed off and my mouth just went slack. Behind Max slowly walking towards us was her… and just like that a fire ignited within me.
My eyes had the same fire burning in them as I glared back at Max, who’s colour was slowly draining from his face. “Never mind I can see now you’ve been occupied.” Looking back over at Kelly, who only had a lovely smile on her face as she linked her arm with Max.
The elevator pinged, breaking the silence- moving myself forward to step in I look over at max and Kelly before taking a large step back.
“You both take this one- I just realised I’ve lost something…” tapping over myself, trying to seem like I was genuine. Kelly only smiled once more before stepping in.
“You need help finding it?” Kelly looked around the elevator floor, as Max stood outside- eyes still glued onto me.
Looking over at her I offered her a smile and shake of my head- then turning to look at Max. Eyes fixated onto each other.
“It’s okay- it was nothing important anyways.” I felt my lip tremble slightly, quickly biting down on it and rushing away with my head down.
Clearly he found his distraction… and was it weird that I wanted it to be me?
Rushing to the stairs I raced down praying I would beat the elevator.
Out of breath and panting I ran over to Lando in reception grabbing his arm and dragging him to the exit.
“Y/N slow down-” laughing a little Lando pulled back- which only made me tug harder at his arms-
The elevator ping sounded through reception- my eyes focused on the doors as Max hurriedly stepped out leaving Kelly behind.
“Please Lando can we just g-”
“Y/N I need to talk to you.” As if in sync me and Lando both looking over at max, who was practically jogging through reception.
“I have nothing to say to you.” Giving up with Lando I hurriedly walked away towards the exit. Why did it hurt so much that he was with Kelly?
Because there’s no way you kiss someone the way he kisses me and it not mean anything- yet being with found with another woman probably giving her the same bullshit excuses… was a kick to the gut.
I knew he was chasing me- even if he was a few feet behind I felt his presence- the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. My heart was telling me to stop running from him and let him talk. But my head told me to keep going- and I did.
I got into the car that was waiting on me and Lando locking the door behind me and leaning over locking the drivers side.
Until he finally gave up. Well I say gave up Lando practically forced him away. And once he was out of sight I finally opened the door again for Lando.
“Can we not talk about him.” Looking at the dash in front of me. I felt sick, maybe even numb at this point. We spent two unforgettable nights with one another, his been one of my closest friends for years- maybe a warning would’ve been nice that it didn’t mean as much to him as it did me- then I wouldn’t of had my flame of hope burned out- and reigniting with anger and jealousy.
I hate her- I hate that he chose her, what was so wrong about me? Why doesn’t he want me the same way I want him? I can’t force him to love me- so why am I so worked up over something so stupid?
“Let’s get the race weekend started aye?” Looking over at Lando he offered an encouraging smile- hand reaching over snd squeezing mine.
Lando is like a comfort blanket- or a teddy bear, you know the type you get when your young and you find yourself seeking it out every single night and day for solitary comfort. Lando was my teddy bear.
“Let’s go get you your win.” Squeezing his hand back I smiled up at him- sure the smile didn’t reach my eyes- and my eyes they didn’t twinkle like diamonds- but he knew I meant what I said and he knew I was there supporting him no matter what.
And Max? Pft what’s the point of crying over something that wasn’t even mine in the first place.
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A/N: Soooooo I don’t know- it was long awaited that’s for sure I just had terrible writers block- and you can even tell in some parts I wasn’t giving enough- buttttt on with the next chapter.
FYI MAX REDEEMS HIMSELF.
Masterlist
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