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dcandmarvelimagines · 4 months ago

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sweeter than you ever knew. (pt. 2)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, Oral sex (f! recieving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, Wade breaks his nose so a bit of blood, Wade is an absolute pervert Logan is too, voyeurism, Logan puts his cigar out on his hand, Logan is also very emotionally stunted but we'll work on that Author's note: Holy shit guys?? This blew up in a way I totally didn't expect. I seriously thought this would just be something I uploaded and would get like five notes. You guys have been so sweet! Thank you so much! I hope you like this next installment. Things take a bit of a turn at the end and in the next chapter, but fear not besties, we will make it out of this and to a happy ending I swear! ao3 Tags (if you would like to be included or removed, just let me know): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o

Early that Monday, I met with my supervisor. When I explained that I was becoming attached to Al’s roommates and it would most likely affect my working relationship, he just sighed. Apparently, Al had requested that I’m her only caretaker and said she would refuse anyone else. “So keep your head on straight around them. Don’t make me regret it.”

When I walked into the apartment later that day, I knew Wade would make me fail. He instantly wrapped me in his arms, covering my face in slobbery kisses. But I was able to keep him at arm's length while I was on the clock for Al. He was allowed one kiss when I got there and nothing else. Despite his protests, he respected my boundaries. With Wade forced to behave, it allowed me to start talking to Logan more. There was some sort of tension between us that had eased. The crease between his eyebrows whenever he saw me had slowly faded. I saw him smile more often. He was surprisingly nice to be around once I got past his gruff exterior. I kept myself an open book, answering any questions he had, but he kept his life close to his chest. I didn’t expect him to spill his guts and I accepted the little crumbs he gave me. But sometimes he was broody and quiet, keeping his responses short, a distant look in his eyes.

Nevertheless, it began to grow into something more. It started off small, little touches to the back, him forcing me to sit when I had been rearranging Al’s furniture. Then it was a gift of delicious chocolate when they came back from France and a home cooked meal when I was too busy to make it myself. I found his eyes tracing my body more often, lingering in certain places. He sometimes stood just a little too close to me while I did the dishes. He wore a shirt less often and I greedily drank in his body when I could. None of this escaped Wade’s notice. I knew he was scheming.

It was a crisp autumn night when I climbed out on the fire escape to settle next to Logan. The cigar smoke was a comfort now, earthy and sweet. We sat in silence for a few moments. Sometimes that was enough for me, just to be in his presence, but not tonight. I shoved my chilly hands deep into the pockets of my jacket. I titled my head, watching his cheeks hollow around the cigar, the ash skittering across his forearm. He didn’t so much as flinch as the hot ash touched him. “Could I try?” I had tried smoking before but had just ended up coughing for a minute straight. He shook his head, watching a bike roll by.

“Last thing you need is lung cancer.” I tentatively laid my head on his shoulder. He would still sometimes jerk away like I had burned him. This time, he allowed me to sink closer, our thighs pressed against each other. I could feel the heat of him sinking through my clothes.

“Mm, it smells good though.” He takes a long drag, letting the smoke linger in his lungs before letting it out in a puff. A long moment of silence passes. We’ve been slowly circling each other for weeks, all lingering touches and heavy glances. How would he react if I finally did something? Pull away? I knew he and Wade still slept together, Al complained about it enough that I couldn’t escape it. Wade and I hadn’t really gone beyond our kisses. Despite what he called himself on my phone, I didn’t want this to be a friends with benefits situation. He seemed to know that and hadn’t pushed for more. Wade made it very clear to the both of us that he has no qualms about sharing. If anything, I think he wants Logan and I to have sex more than he wants to have sex with me.

Steeling my resolve, I rest my chin on his shoulder. “Can I try a taste?” Logan glanced down at me, that crease reappearing between his eyebrows.

“What?” His voice is dry, a touch on edge. I wanted to apologize for my flirting and run but I can’t allow myself to. My fingers trace the corner of his lip, the edge of his jaw. He turned just an inch closer to me and I’m able to take in his lined and handsome face.

“Just one taste?” It comes out breathy, barely audible. But he hears it, he always does. There’s the faintest tick at the corner of his lips like he was going to smile. “I promise to be gentle,” now that got a smirk out of him.

“You don’t scare me sweetheart,” his voice was a low rumble.

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?” He pressed the still burning cigar onto his palm. The smell of burning flesh floated up to me and my nose twitched at it. “Why would you-“ but the words are cut off as his unburned palm cupped the back of my neck and dragged me closer, our lips pressing together. The kiss is chaste. My eyes fall shut, a surprised gasp leaving me. His beard scratches lightly at my face as we move our heads. But then he nudges my nose, tilting his head back. “No, please,” I whispered, chasing his lips. I felt his sigh ghost across my face before he cupped both cheeks and drew me back against his mouth. I moan against him, clutching at the front of his sweatshirt, wanting him closer, craving it. Then his lips are moving against mine. My hands slide into his hair and give the strands a tug. His mouth parts on a growl and I take the opportunity to lick my way in. I can taste the tang of whiskey, the sweetness of the cigar, a hint of mint. I want to crush myself against him, to feel his body against mine, to explore his skin.

Just as I’m reaching under his sweatshirt, hungry for the feel of the torso that’s been haunting me, he withdraws. His breath still coasts across my face and my nose was full of the scent of him. My breath was ragged while his was perfectly even. Embarrassing. My eyes are slow to open. I found him only a few inches away, a smug expression on his handsome face.

“There,” he whispers, “got your taste.”

“Asshole.” Now he smiles, perfect teeth glinting in the streetlight.

“Yeah, get that in your pretty head now.” His calloused fingers tapped at my temple. “I’m not someone to get attached to.”

“Well she’s sticking around me and I’m about as much boyfriend material as sandpaper.” I jumped nearly out of my skin at the sound of Wade’s voice. Logan just smirked and circled his hands around my wrists, squeezed once to make me let go of his sweatshirt. I had half a mind to refuse, crawl into his lap and kiss every inch of skin I could find. But I let my hands fall weakly to my lap. “When you two fuck, can you record it? I’ve tried finding look-alikes on pornhub, but it’s just not the same.” I huffed, glancing down at where Wade’s head was, a spark of annoyance at him interrupting Logan and I. He’s half laying on the metal grate, his legs dangling off the couch beneath the window.

“Ain’t gonna happen dickwad.” I can hear Logan’s lighter flicking before the smell of the cigar is back. I hoped he had just meant recording and that gruff tone wasn’t for the idea of us having sex. But he let me remain close so I took that as a good sign.

“Don’t listen to him, baby bunny. Look, he literally tried killing me and we ended up fucking in the end.”

“Was still trying to kill you,” Logan growls. Wade gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like Logan actually succeeded.

“Don’t lie peanut! What’s more romantic than stabbing me in the neck? That Honda Odyssey was shaking all night.”

“I hope that’s not how you plan on being romantic with me,” I laughed, reaching down to tug at Wade’s cheek. “I can’t snap back like you two.”

“Of course not darling,” he covered my hand in sloppy kisses, sucking a hickey on my wrist. “I’ll let you stab me in the neck while you fuck me. Would never want to hurt that sexy face.”

“Ugh, get a room you two,” Logan snapped, nudging my knee with his. I glanced back at him but found his face reserved again. As much as I wanted to linger and force my time on Logan, I knew he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“We should take Mary Puppins out, yeah?” Wade nodded, wiggling free of his awkward position. The decrepit dog came bounding around the corner. She wiggled her naked butt as Wade grabbed her leash. I looked back at Logan. He was determinately ignoring me, eyes locked onto the dark apartment across the way. “I’ll probably head home once that’s done.” He nodded and brought the cigar back to his lips. “Why did you put it out on your hand?”

“Didn’t want to drop it on you. It’s a nasty burn.” There was something fleeting and tender that passed over his averted face. A little smile spread across my face.

“Thank you, you’re my hero.” I pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek, lingering just a beat too long, before I pulled away. “Goodnight Logan.” I didn’t wait for his reply, if he even intended to give one.

Wade was happy with the progress me and Logan had made.

But it wasn’t fast enough.

Which is how I found myself locked in their shared cramped bathroom, Wade’s head buried between my legs, while two of his fingers plunged inside me. My legs were shaking, my heel pressed against his shoulder to spread me open more. “Wade,” I whimpered as tears pricked my eyes. He had already drawn one orgasm from me with his rough and agile fingers before he dropped to his knees. “I c-can’t.”

“I know you can honey bun.” His breath was hot against my tender skin and I gasped. “Just one more for me, yeah?” I nodded, hips grinding against him. “There you go. You’re close again aren’t you?” I nodded again, eyes rolling back. He kitten licked across my overly sensitive clit. I knew I was making a mess of his face but he seemed to revel in it. He left a trail of sticky kisses along my bruised and bitten thigh. “Do you hear yourself? Got that WAP.” I smacked his head before pushing him deeper to keep him from running his mouth more. He latched back onto my clit, sucking harshly, and a third finger wedged into me. My back arched and I had to bite my lip hard to stay quiet. My eyes fell closed. His spare hand moved from my hip where it had been holding me.

The sudden sound of the door opening made me freeze. Al had laid down for a nap which was the only reason I allowed Wade to drag me in here. But instead I found Logan framed in the doorway. He had the look of a deer in headlights. “Now peanut,” Wade cooed, his head laid against my thigh. to look at the other man. He didn’t stop fingering me, the squelching sounds suddenly too loud. “Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“I wasn’t, you two are too fucking loud.” Logan’s nostrils were flared, heaving chest straining against his thin tank top.

“Uh huh,” Wade teased, his tongue swirling around my clit. My hand clamped over my mouth as a sob caught in my chest. “That massive tent in your pants has nothing to do with you hovering.” Logan growled, palming at himself, seemingly angry at his body. “Come on handsome, look at her.” Wade pushed my thighs farther apart, his free hand spreading me.

“Oh god,” I mumbled, embarrassment making me cover my face. I couldn’t hear Logan’s steps, he was always so light on his feet, but I could feel him examining me. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end.

“Don’t hide from us gorgeous,” Wade chides. “Logan Ioves to watch orgasm faces. I can feel you fluttering, I know you're close.” When I don’t remove my hands, Wade sighs, the exhale of air making my hips jerk. “Come on, you can be brave for us.” I take a shaky breath and remove my hands, curling them around the edge of the counter. Wade smiled while Logan’s dialated eyes were glued to my pussy. I watched his Adam's apple bob and he shifted from one foot to the other. “Good job,” he kissed my clit, popping obscenely. “Now make a mess on my face.”

He dove back between my legs. With Logan there, Wade seemed determined to force me to come as hard and as fast as he could. His fingers drove into me with firm thrusts, tongue flicking cruelly at my clit. My leg was trembling so much it slipped from Wade’s shoulder, only to be caught by Logan. I struggled to focus on him, my vision blurry from prickling tears of overstimulation. His calloused palm traced up my ankle and calf before notching behind my knee. With my pussy covered by Wade’s head, Logan could only look at my face. I wanted him closer, to feel his mouth against mine again, that scrape of his beard. His eyes fastened to my neck, watching my erratic pulse.

“Logan,” my voice tilts up at the end, hands reaching for him. Before I was able to even breathe, just as the orgasm was rushing through me, Logan’s lips crashed against mine. I clung to him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and locking both of my shuddering legs around his waist, moaning wildly into his mouth. Wade groaned as his head was pinned between our hips and the vibrations made me cry out. Logan was kissing me like a man starved, biting at my lips, grunting like he was the one coming. A combination of our spit collected at the corner of my mouth and he licked at it hungrily. His blunt nails dug into the tender skin behind my knees as he clutched me closer. Tears streaked down my cheeks as Wade kept working me into near painful overstimulation.

Logan separated first, his forehead pressed to mine. My breath was ragged, sweat collecting along my hairline. I wanted more, to lose myself between their touches, their bodies. Wade finally stilled, his fingers still buried deep. His mouth released me and I gasped as his harsh breaths coasted across me. “You okay down there?” My voice shook. I reached down and ran my nails across his scalp.

“Broke my nose, but it’s okay.” I bolted up straight and Logan stumbled back to avoid my head cracking against his. Blood and my slick was smeared across his face, staining his white teeth as he beamed up at me. The tip of his nose was bent at an odd angle.

“I’m so sorry,” I cupped his face, panic rushing through me. “Are you okay?”

“He’s fine,” Logan said. One of his big hands braced on Wade’s head before he grabbed the broken nose with two fingers. With a pop and a grunt from Wade, the nose slid back into place. “There,” he tapped Wade’s sticky face, “good as new.”

“You’re always so nice to me,” Wade grumbled, itching the rapidly healing bump. His drenched fingers slid from me, glistening in the harsh bathroom light. Logan glanced between Wade and I, one finger twirling in the drawstring of his black sweatpants. I wish I could read his mind, be able to tell his emotions from one glance, or a touch. I wanted to understand this unsure look on his face. He almost seemed nervous to be in here now that the haze of lust had passed. He swallowed thickly before he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“See you tomorrow sweetheart.” My arms, which were about to latch around his neck to keep him close, hung limply in the air. I blinked as he walked away, disappearing into their dark bedroom. Wade shook his head as he stood and closed the bathroom door.

“Did I do something?” I whispered, knowing Logan would hear me anyway. Wade’s hands went to my thighs, kneading at the tight muscles, leaving behind wet handprints with his right one.

“No, he’s just a fucking idiot who doesn’t think he deserves happiness. I’ve been trying to ease him into this but he’s stubborn.” He turned his head, “and he’s stupid!” I heard their bedroom door snap shut. “He’s worried he’ll scare you off. Just give him time. He’s just…just had a lot happen to him.” I nodded. “Don’t take it personally, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Are you two done in there?!” A cane hit the door. “She needs to read me my mail!”

Never more in my life have I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. Only compounded by Wade wiping the door open, cocking his hip to glare at his roommate. I knew she was blind, that she had completely lost vision almost twenty years ago. But that didn’t stop me from stretching my shirt down to try and cover myself, crossing my legs. “I see Miss sleepy granny pants is awake. What do you need? A diaper change?” Al scoffed, her cane clicking along the floorboards of the hallway as she moved to the kitchen. Once she was out of our sight, Wade plucked my panties from the floor.

“Why?” He shrugged, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Maybe I need to get him used to your scent, like a dog.” I rolled my eyes but bit back a hiss as he dragged the coarse material through my wet folds. “Need a lot of it I think, yeah, nice and soaked.” I shoved his hand away and he tucked my panties into his pocket. Wade helped me off the counter, his hands braced on my waist to keep me steady. My jeans had been tossed carelessly to the side and I dreaded putting them back on without the barrier of my underwear. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear those pesky jeans, even if they do make your ass look so good I want to rip them off you every time you wear them.” He passed through the bathroom and into his and Logan’s room. I peeked around the edge of the door frame and nearly fainted at the sight.

Logan was splayed across their dark sheets, body bare, hard cock in his hand. While the room was dim, the beams of light from the hallway were able to reach in. The shadows played over his muscles and I watched as they flexed. I wasn’t able to see his cock well, both his hand and the poor lighting limited my vision. But I was able to see a long, thick vein along the underside. My face heated at the sight of him. “Knock, asshole,” his voice was husky. The sound of him made my toes curl. If I hadn’t just had a mind melting orgasm, I would have been striding into that room, ready to do anything he wanted me to. His stomach fluttered as his strokes became more rapid.

“Here,” Wade said as he tossed my drenched panties on Logan’s face. His hips jerked, knuckles flashing white around himself. Wade searched through a drawer before pulling something from inside. “Now be good and keep those right there for when I come back.” Logan growled, removing the fabric from his face but kept it clutched in his fist. Wade blew him a kiss and a wave before closing the door again. He offered me a pair of sweatpants. I tugged them on with a mumbled thank you, having to roll the waistband down multiple times so I wasn’t swimming in them. Wade pinched my chin and our eyes locked. “I’ll get him to warm up, promise.” I nodded. “Now go take care of Miss Migoo. Remember to text me when you get home.”

“Of course,” I stood on my toes to kiss his healed nose. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry babykins. If it makes you feel better, I was near suffocation. So a busted nose was the best case scenario.” He laughed at my horrified expression. “Hey, I’d much rather die from pussy smothering than my heart being ripped out.”

“You know, that doesn’t make me feel much better.” He smirked and drew me closer, his lips connecting with mine. I could taste the tang of me coating him. But I pulled back first. I needed to keep my head on straight for the last hour of my time with Al. “Keep it down with him, please? It’ll be too distracting.” His expression turned wicked.

“Trust me, I have a way I’ll shut him up.” His hands coasted down my hips, grabbing a handful of my ass. “I’ll send pictures of what happens to your cute little panties once we’re done with them.” My face flushed and I pressed my hands to his chest.

“God, you’re such a pervert.”

“Mhm, you like it though.”

“Will you two stop! My vision isn’t coming back anytime soon.” We reluctantly broke apart. Wade slipped into the bedroom. I was only able to catch a brief glimpse of Logan’s back arched, heels dug deep into the mattress, before my sight was cut off. I grabbed my discarded jeans and stuffed them into the tote bag I had brought with me. The last bit of my shift ended in mostly silence, minus the occasional creak of the bed frame from the guy’s bedroom. I helped Al sign a few checks, read through her mail, and took out Mary Puppins. I said my good night and left the apartment. My mind conjured up thoughts on what could be happening behind that closed door all the way home on the train. Wade, clad only in my stolen underwear, bouncing on Logan. My panties stuffed into Logan’s mouth as Wade pounds him from behind. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop my imagination from getting too wild. It wouldn’t help anything to get turned on now.

If my mind hadn’t been so filled with dirty thoughts, I would have noticed the man watching me from the other end of the train car.

I made it to my apartment. The key fob scanner was broken again. “Advanced security my ass,” I groaned, trudging up to my apartment. It was Friday and I felt like ordering something in. I knew I shouldn’t, the delivery fees were astronomical, but I just wanted to relax. After placing my pizza order, I grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and a shirt stolen from Logan by Wade, then gifted to me. It always felt illegal to wear it, but it was easily the softest shirt I had. His scent lingered on it and it always soothed me. I had around an hour before my pizza was going to arrive. I made a little nest for myself on the couch and tucked in to watch some mindless reality tv.

A knock woke me up. At first I was confused, rubbing at my eyes and looking around to locate the sound. Then my mind caught up. “Oh shit,” I mumbled, scrambling to the door as the poor delivery guy knocked again. “Sorry! Sorry!” I called. I unlocked the door and swung it open.

I froze.

A man, with no pizza box, stood before me. “Um, can I help you?” The man had ice chips for eyes, cold and lifeless. A tattoo peaked above his collar. He took me in, tracing each inch of me. I felt my skin break out in goosebumps at the cold calculation on his face. My arms curled over my chest, hiding it from him. “Can I help you?” My tone was stronger, a small snap to it. That horrible gaze found mine again. Then he said my full name. Fear oozed through me.

I heard something from my bedroom, a little thump, but was too terrified to look away from the man in front of me. “Get the fuck out of here,” but the words lacked conviction, a slight tremble to them. “I don’t know who you are. Leave or I’m calling the cops.”

“Why wouldn’t you call your boyfriends?” My heart stuttered in my chest.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” I heard the creak of my floorboard. I cast a wild glance behind me and found a wall of a man emerging from my bedroom. I went to scream but the man at my door latched his hand around my mouth. I kicked and thrashed, biting wildly. He didn’t react. There was a pinch in my neck.

My elbows tried to find his face, but he was able to easily deflect them. The man in my apartment was searching for something. My eyes were blurring, limbs turned to lead. I saw him hold my phone up.

Then I slumped to the ground.

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itsprashimusic · 4 months ago

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Monaco and Monza

Summary - Charles, his favourite person (and their puppy) before, during and after the most important race wins of his life.

Pairings - Charles Leclerc x fem!Reader

Warnings - no use of y/n, google translate French and Italian, r can make decent conversation in French and Italian, possible inaccurate timelines, it is hinted that R is not from France or Monaco, honorable louis tomlinson appearance bc I am a former louie girlie, R has blue light glasses, cuss words. Happy reading🩵

W/C - 3.9k

A/N - i write all my female Rs with a desi in mind. Written in 2nd pov. I wrote R with a mindset and likes similar to mine, you are free to skip this fic if you don't like it.

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Before Monaco

An hour had passed on the three hour flight from Imola to Nice. Charles was asleep and Leo was curled up in your lap. Sitting in an oversized top and sweatpants, you were quite comfortable while doing some work. You work for a company that allows you to work remotely, which is a huge blessing considering your longtime boyfriend travels the world every other week.

The tiny pup yawned big as he woke up from his nap. You scratched him under the chin. Leo moved around in your lap, found another comfortable spot and went right back to sleep just as Charles also moved to find another comfortable position to nap in. You smiled to yourself and continued working.

Soon the plane landed in a private airport in the French city of Nice. Your bags were handled by the hired help, and Charles insisted on carrying your laptop bag for you. This left you walking along his side with Leo in your arms, still sound asleep. The boat ride to Monaco didn't take long and the drive to your shared apartment went by in a blur.

It felt nice being home during race week. You left Leo in his bed and joined Charles in the living room. Coming up from behind you hugged him while softly asking, "Qu'est-ce que tu penses?" (what is on your mind?). Even after all these years you still cringed at your accent.

"The race" he replied.

You sighed as you remembered the dnfs, mechanical failures and team errors that Charles had to endure. Year after year, the pain just kept getting worse as you watched from the grandstands and eventually the garage.

"You should focus on the positives. The team has been performing well and this season has been different than the last 3, there is hope." you weren't sure if what you said was the right thing. You kissed him on the cheek and moved around the couch to come and sit next to him.

"It is not easy when every other time I have had hope, it has been ripped away and torn into tiny pieces," Charles said while looking defeated. You felt sad seeing him like this. You just held your arms out and let him fall into your embrace. With the couch being big enough for two people to sleep on it, soon you and Charles fell asleep, still in the hug.

During Monaco

Photographers snapped photos of you and Rebecca, Leo's leash entwined with your hand. The two of you were spotted outside the Ferrari hospitality an hour before qualifying. Charles was busy with his engineer and strategist and asked you to give him some alone time. So, you thought a small walk around the paddock with your puppy and good friend would be beneficial.

Eventually the crowd of fans surrounding you and Rebecca who wanted to see Leo was getting quite large, so you politely said goodbye to the fans, picked up the pup and made your way back to the Ferrari motorhome. You got a text from your boyfriend.

Can you come to my drivers room?

You entered the room and put Leo down, allowing him to calm down and drink some water from his very own water bottle and attached bowl. "Darling, do you need something?" you asked Charles as he looked tense.

You moved closer to him. Charles caught you by surprise when he pulled you even closer and hugged you extremely tight. "Je ne me sens pas bien," (i don't feel good) he whispered. "C'est bon. Tout ira bien. It's ok, you'll be ok." you quietly kept repeating to him until Leo began demanding attention with his big brown eyes and soft whines.

Charles wiped the few tears that escaped and picked him up with a new smile adorning his face. For a moment, it was just the three of you, your perfect little family. There was a knock at the door, followed by a Ferrari team member informing Charles that he was required in 5 minutes. Charles placed a wet kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you for supporting me the way you do. I love you so much, mon cœur," (my heart) he said, his lips still on your forehead. The pair walked out of the room and split ways. You had the hired help watch Leo for the duration of qualifying in a private room.

You sat with Charles' family just as the Sky Sports camera panned on you. You smiled when you saw yourself on the monitor and gave a small wave while sitting next to Charlotte.

Even though you knew that Charles would easily clear Q1, you could not help the anxiety that made its way throughout your body. He crossed the line and made it to Q2. With the next session, your anxiety worsened. But within 15 minutes your nerves eased.

Q3. This was it. As the minutes slowly turned from 12 to 2, you were feeling sick. Charles' sleek Ferrari flew over the finish line and your hands flew to your mouth. Pole Position. At his home race. At your home race. The cameras focused on you to get your and his family's reaction.

At parc ferme, Charles ran over to his team who hyped him up even more. He signed the wheel and posed for the photos, the smile never leaving his face. Even after finishing up his media duties and making his way back to his family and you in the motorhome, his smile remained ever present. You swore he never hugged you tighter than that.

Race day. The day that actually mattered.

You entered the paddock a few steps behind Charles, Leo once again in your hold. You didn't get a lot of time with Charles, considering he was the man of the hour after securing pole. The two of you shared a moment together before he had to head out for the national anthem.

"Comment te sens-tu, chérie?" (how are you feeling, darling?) you asked him while he changed into his race suit. He looked up and the look on his face gave you your answer. You smiled and he continued wearing his suit. There were butterflies in his stomach. That meant he felt nervous, hopeful, anxious and confident all at once.

Charles was out on the track, and you once again joined his family in the motorhome. At that point though, it would be more appropriate to call them your family. You and Charles have been together for a long time. The pair of you had seen each other at their lowest and highest. When Charles lost his father and when for nearly a year you could not get a job. When news of Anthoine's death reached Charles, he was on holiday with you and your family in another country. Your family gave him the comfort he needed. When you got news that your parents contracted covid, there was nothing you could do sitting in your apartment in Monaco. Pascale was like a second mother to you.

The race began. You found a place to sit and watch the race. Charles was in the lead. A huge crash. A totaled redbull and a red flag. You felt the butterflies creeping up from your stomach to your throat. The race resumed and continued. Piastri was close to Charles, but not enough to threaten his position. It felt like time slowed down during the final lap. You had an earbud plugged in one ear and could hear Crofty's iconic last lap commentary.

The number 16 Ferrari flew past the checkered flag and fireworks flew out from the sides of the track. Charles' family members were already hugging each other and some of the team members who were there. But you didn't move. Tears were flowing down your face and a smile was etched on your face. The first person you moved to hug was Charlotte, the older woman was like an elder sister to you.

The camera's stream kept cutting from Charles out on the track to you and his family in the motorhome. Everyone quickly left the garage and made their way to parc ferme. You saw Charles pull up and stop in front of the 1st place stand. You watched from the back as he ran to his team, Arthur and Lorenzo pushed their way to the front. After getting weighed, the team moved to allow you to come to the front where Charles walked towards you.

Normally, you and Charles would keep the pda on the lesser side when cameras were around, but not this time. The forever smiling face, messy-haired and slightly teary-eyed boyfriend of yours pulled you directly into a powerful kiss. His left arm was around your back while his right hand was half on your face and half on your neck. You could hear and feel all the cameras going off around you.

Charles broke the kiss but kept your foreheads connected. You held both of his hands. "Tu l'as fait," (you did it) you repeated in all the languages you knew while nodding your head. You could see the tears welling up in his eyes again. He quickly blinked them away, "L'ho fatto," (i did it) he said in Italian quickly kissed you once again before hugging you.

You stood below the podium and watched as he received the trophy he had been waiting his entire life for. You were still crying. The tears would not stop, and they only got worse when Charles made eye contact with you after he was presented with the medal. He mouthed the words I love you. So much. Thank you. You could only hold your hand to your heart in response.

After Monaco

Even after a full day, you could still smell the fragrance of champagne wafting off of Charles.

You and Charles had celebrated his win on Sunday night in a club. He was practically glued to your side the entire night. No matter who he was talking to, either he did it while having an arm around you or holding your hand. By the end of the night, you were left with a very clingy and very drunk boyfriend. With Joris's help, you got Charles into the car. He drove the both of you home.

Back at the apartment, Charles seemed to have sobered up a bit after you made him eat some food.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Charles was lying down on the bed and was lovingly staring at you.

"All the time," you answered while changing for the night.

You finished changing and joined Charles in bed. Leo who was previously perched near Charles' feet climbed onto you and snuggled up on your chest.

Charles got your attention by saying your name, "I want you to understand what I mean when I say this. I love you. I appreciate you so much, even I cannot comprehend it. You have supported me throughout my years in Formula 1 and Formula 2. You have stood by me all these years, even when you had to sacrifice your job and sleep schedule for me. Je veux que vous compreniez la profondeur de ce que je dis." (i want you to understand the depth of what i am saying).

His eyes kept moving around but eventually rested on your face. He looked into your eyes when he finally spat out what he truly wanted to say.

"Mon cœur, mon âme, ma vie, je veux passer le reste de ma vie avec toi. Veux-tu m'épouser?" (My heart, my soul, my life, i want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?)

I took you a second to process what Charles said. You looked down and saw him holding a simple gold band with three small diamonds set in it. His free arm was laid across your stomach under Leo, who woke up when he sensed his mom feeling strong emotions.

Tears filled your eyes, your heart began beating faster and you were sweating a bit. Leo moved to the bed and was now licking the tears that fell from your eyes. You felt like you couldn't speak, but you very much knew what your answer was.

Before Monza

The summer break was perfect. You used your paid leave and were fully able to enjoy your time with the entire family. The photos of Leo that Charles posted to his instagram were adored by the fans. Your insta account remained private, but you still posted the dog nonetheless.

Neither of you announced the engagement just yet, wanting to keep it to yourselves for a while. Fans got curious when they saw a new ring around that special finger after Charles' win in Monaco, but since it was quite simple and small, they thought nothing much of it. You were known for wearing many different rings on the same finger, so people thought it was just another ring you fancied.

Unfortunately, after your long break, you were required to come back to the office for a few days for important meetings with the higher-ups of your company. That meant you missed the race in Zandvoort and Charles podium. But you made it up to him by joining him in Monza, his adopted home race.

Walking in the streets of Monza with a loved Ferrari driver was always quite the experience. Leo loved the attention from all the fans, he was a born extrovert. You and Charles had lunch at one of your favourite restaurants. The both of you sat in a relatively private section of the restaurant.

"I missed you at Zandvoort," Charles said before eating a morsel of his favourite pasta. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I tried to leave as early as I could, but by the time the meeting finished it made no sense to come," you said wishing you could have been there for him. Ever since Monaco, the team had been struggling. It brought back painful flashbacks of 2022 and 2023.

Things were not the best between you and Charles during the week you were out for work. The timings never seemed to match, when he had the energy to talk you were too burnt out, and doing all of this while also planning a wedding was not easy. It put a small strain on your relationship which seemed like it was reaching its breaking point during this weekend.

During Monza

You spent the rest of the week working. In between the free practice sessions, you were spotted with a pair of blue-light glasses on and bent over your laptop and a notebook. Leo was either sleeping in his carrier by your feet or was with Arthur or Lorenzo.

You barely saw Charles the entire weekend. He was either busy with his engineer and strategist or was filming content. It only made the strain in your relationship even worse and left Rebecca having to hear your side of it for most of the weekend considering both the boys were quite busy.

It was only before qualifying that you managed to get a moment with Charles at all.

"Charles, I know this is an important race for you, but we need to talk," you sternly said leaving no room for arguments. Charles was about to protest but you simply pulled him by the arm to his drivers room.

"Pourquoi tu ne me parles pas?" (why are you not talking to me?) you folded your arms while facing him. "You have been avoiding me ever since Thursday!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were too tired and 'fagged out' to want to talk," he replied sarcastically and with air quotes. "Je ne comprends pas pourquoi tu dois te comporter comme ça!" (I don't get why you have to behave like that!) Charles started walking around angrily and went off rattling away in French at such a fast pace you could not understand what he was saying.

"Just stop!" you yelled. "Just tell me why you are angry at me," you said, softer this time, almost in defeat.

"I don't like it when you are so busy with your work that you do not have time for us," Charles whispered after a long pause.

"And how do you think I feel when you are so busy with your work? I am required to go to the office at least every six months. You travel around the world every other week. You have less free time than I do, but have you heard me complain? So, instead of getting angry that I had to leave for one week to discuss plans for the company's future with the CEO, you should be happy that it was only one week out of the 52 in a year."

By the time you finished speaking, Charles had his hands over his face and was standing quite far from you. He whispered something inaudibly. With a confused look on your face, you moved closer to your fiancé. Upon feeling your body heat in the cold room, he removed his hands from his face and repeated his words.

I'm sorry.

The both of you wrapped yourselves in an embrace and for 5 minutes were only apologising and promising to do better in the future. You left the room after giving him a kiss. You headed down to the garage wanting to watch quali with Arthur who was watching Leo while you worked.

The timer began the countdown into Q1. Normally you would've been feeling quite nervous, but you were distracted by the charming british singer sitting next to you. Being a young girl during the height of One Direction was something else entirely. Your childhood dreams of meeting your favourite singer from the famous boyband had now come true.

Soon it was time for Q3 and you got a photo with Louis who by the time Q3 began, just like the rest of the world, fell in love with Leo and his photos. Charles put in great laps, but ended up only p4 alongside Russel.

Charles finished with his media duties and met up with you inside the motorhome. You were on a work call when he walked into the room. Leo was in the corner of the room scarfing down his food as if he hadn't eaten in years, his ears flopping all over the place.

You cut the call frustrated, removing your glasses from your face and placing them on your head. "Est-ce que tu vas bien?" (are you good?) he asked while holding you from the side and kissing your temple. You nodded and just packed up your things while Charles gathered his things as well.

The grandstands were filled with a sea of red and occasional yellow. Your outfit consisted of only red, yellow and black. Charles had left for the paddock earlier, so you made plans to have breakfast with Rebecca and leave for the paddock together.

You walked around before the race with Leo on the leash in front of you, Rebecca by your side. "So, how is wedding planning going?" she asked, her beautiful scottish accent making you smile. "We are still looking at venues. All we know is that it's going to be sometime in August of next year."

The drivers would soon be called for the national anthem. So, you went back to the Ferrari garage looking for your soon-to-be husband. You found him sitting next to Arthur, water bottle in hand. Leo instantly ran towards him and began climbing up his dad.

"Just do your best. Give it your all. Je t'aime tellement." (i love you so much) you sent Charles off with a hug. Leo was fast asleep in his carrier, so you joined Arthur down in the garage. You put on the large red headphones and waved at the camera when you saw yourself on the broadcast.

Halfway through the race, it hit you that Charles could possibly win. It was a stretch considering he was attempting a one-stopper. But as lap after lap went by the possibility of that dream coming true seemed more and more likely. His tires were probably gonna look like chewed-up bubblegum by the end of the race, but if he managed them just right...

He did it. He fucking did it. The roar of the Tifosi was stronger than ever. Unlike his last win, this time you were not seated. You were jumping up and down, cheering as loud as you could, matching the energy of the Ferrari team members around you. Some of them hugged you.

While Charles was finishing his cool-down lap, the mechanics and other team members rushed out to greet Charles in parc ferme. You stayed close to Arthur, knowing that you could possibly get pushed in the wrong direction. With a hand around your back, he guided you to the front where you could see the beautiful red car pull up.

Charles came running toward the team, moving quickly to try and hug everyone possible. As he moved from Arthur to hug you, from the corner of your eyes you could see more cameras making their way towards you. FLASH! And that was how one of the iconic photos of Monza 2024 was born. Charles' arms wrapped around you and he had his visor up, his eyes filled with so much emotion. You were smiling widely in the photo and had your hands on either side of his helmet. But the part that made the photo iconic was that your left hand was facing the camera, and in that, you had tucked away all of your fingers except the one with your engagement ring.

Winning the Italian Grand Prix as a Ferrari driver is always special, so you watched the podium celebration from inside the motorhome, wanting him to enjoy the moment with the team and the Tifosi to the fullest.

After Monza

For the next two days, the streets of Monza were filled with Ferrari flags being either hung from somewhere or people waving them around. It seemed like every other Italian was asking for an autograph from Charles or a photo with him. But it wasn't just Charles and Ferrari who were the talk of town. So were you.

That photo of you and Charles just after the race had gone viral. At first, people were freaking out, wondering if the two of you were really engaged or if it was a joke. Only when Charles reposted the photo to his story did fans really start freaking out.

Congratulations were pouring out of everyone's mouth who had seen the photo or heard of the news. You didn't mean for the news to overshadow Charles' incredible win on 38-lap old tires. But it didn't. As a matter of fact, the win and engagement news gelled well together, neither taking away from the other.

The night before the team would be heading to Maranello you and Charles laid in the hotel bed, Leo fast asleep on his own bed. "I'm sorry for not asking if you'd be fine with me announcing our engagement," you said in a soft voice while drawing shapes on his torso. Charles, who had you wrapped around his side, kissed your forehead and said, "Je suis content que tu l'aies fait," (I am glad you did it).

The next morning Charles posted a photo of a formal dinner the two of you had with not just his but also your family where the engagement was announced. Of course, Leo was in the center of the photo.

A/n - honestly idk what i even wrote. i am tired af and just needed to get this out of my system. Hope you enjoyed reading🩵

#itsprashimusic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #formula 1 imgaine #formula 1 x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 driver x reader #charles leclerc x desi!reader #f1 x desi!reader #formula 1 x desi!reader #f1 driver x desi!reader

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writingwithfolklore · 1 year ago

Text

Scene Transitions

Transitioning between scenes is something that you’ll have to do a lot. A good scene transition blends seamlessly into the next so we hardly notice it occurring—or it stands out in order to heighten an emotional impact.

I remember teachers saying, “transitions should blend seamlessly” to me in school without ever explaining how to do that, or what it looks like. The good news is, you’ve probably read so many books and consumed so much media that you’re already subconsciously transitioning your scenes. If you’re struggling, though, here’s what to watch out for:

1. The emotion ends off and begins at the same place.

This isn’t necessarily a hard rule, but it certainly helps maintain a sort of flow to the work, and asks a lot less from your readers than putting them through an emotional rollercoaster. This counts whether it’s transitioning from the same POV or different ones.

For example, if your character is being chased by the police and the scene cuts off without knowing what happens to them, the next scene needs to begin in this heightened sense of urgency and anxiety.

However, if your character is being chased by police and dives unnoticed into their hideout, the next scene should begin within this sense of relief. From here, you can take it wherever you want—just maintain a consistency between chapter cuts, POVs, or other time/place skips.

2. Finish what you start

Unless you’re intentionally keeping the audience in the dark about something (which would require at least some acknowledgement that there are answers, they just aren’t being revealed), you should finish what one scene starts.

Say your previous chapter ends off with the character finally reaching the end of the line for the super scary haunted house attraction. The next should probably begin with them getting to enter the house. If it begins the next day, we’ll be so caught up in the missing time and the obvious lack of answers surrounding the haunted house it’ll take us completely out of the scene and make a notable cut.

An example of a story that does this notable cut really well is ‘A Face Like Glass’ by Frances Hardinge, in which nearing the end, Hardinge inserts a page that playfully acknowledges the complete jump in time and space without revealing anything to the readers about why it’s there, leaving them to discover later on what occurred in that space.

I wish I could quote it exactly but I don’t have the book with me. If anyone does, please reblog this with the page! You’ll know the one I’m talking about.

3. Keep it the same

Don’t switch to a new POV in the middle of the story when you’ve never seen it before unless intentionally making a point. Do transition your scenes however you’d like, but maintain consistency throughout the story. That way, if you ever need to make a point, you can break all the rules you’ve followed to really hammer home the impact.

Good luck!

#writing #writers #writing tips #writing advice #writing inspiration #creative writing #writing community #books #film #filmmaking #screenwriting #novel writing #fanfiction #writeblr #scene transitions #transitioning between scenes

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thefreakandthehair · 22 days ago

Text

fireplace.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas | prompts: fireplace and cabin | wc: 969 | rating: teen & up | tags: mutual requited pining, post-canon, steve pov, getting together, first kiss, winter fluff, artist!Eddie, domestic

It was supposed to be a group trip.

After they’d lost their spring and summer to fighting off an apocalypse, and then their fall to nursing their injuries both physical and mental, they’d wanted to get away. Steve, Robin, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie had planned on taking advantage of the Harrington’s cabin just over the border to Michigan, but it fell apart as quickly as it had come together. Robin’s parents booked a surprise trip to France, Karen and Ted wanted to spend more time with Nancy, Mike, and Holly, Argyle’s family wanted him to come back for the holidays and where Argyle goes, Jonathan goes.

It was supposed to be a group trip but instead, Steve finds himself alone in the cozy midwestern retreat with Eddie, his mismatched socked feet on Steve’s lap, and the sounds of his humming as he scribbles something in his notebook.

Steve doesn’t mind— in fact, he feels a little bit guilty because he almost… well, he’s glad that it ended up being just the two of them. He loves Robin, and he’s really come around to Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy as good friends and not just fellow involuntary soldiers forced to band together, but there’s just something different about his time with Eddie.

When it’s just the two of them, no one asking for rides or teasing either of them for how close they sit on the couch, Steve relaxes. He breathes. He just is. Eddie doesn’t expect much of him, or if he does, he never lets on and Steve certainly isn’t going to ask and ruin the moment. Just like the moment he finds himself in now: comfortable silence broken by nothing but a crackling fire and the sound of Eddie’s pencil against the page.

“What’re you doing over there?” Steve asks, gently squeezing Eddie’s calf with the hand he hadn’t realized was absentmindedly rubbing up and down Eddie’s soft, worn-in sweatpants.

“Huh?” Eddie looks up, eyebrows hitched up and pencil coming to a halt. “Oh, nothing. Just sketching, I guess.”

“Is it for the campaign?” Steve grins. “Can I see? I won’t tell Dustin, I promise.”

“That little shit would bat his eyes twice and you’d spill the whole ending, are you kidding me?” Eddie laughs, pulling his notebook closer to his chest. “And no, it’s not for the campaign anyways. It’s for my eyes only.”

“Oh, now all of a sudden, we’re keeping secrets?” Steve shakes his head and rolls his eyes, fond.

“It’s just lame, at least by my standards. There’s not a single snake or skull on this page, man. Nothing interesting, Boy Scouts’ Honor.” Eddie gives Steve a sly salute and Steve snorts, scooting closer so Eddie’s feet hang fully over his legs, his knees bent over Steve’s thighs.

“You were never a Boy Scout, so that means nothing,” he starts. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be all dark or whatever for me to think it’s interesting. It’s interesting because it’s yours.”

His voice comes out a little softer than he anticipated, all humor gone and replaced with hushed vulnerability. Eddie picks up on it, like he always does when it’s Steve, and tilts his head slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, squeezes Eddie’s leg again but with intention this time.

“Tell anyone and I’ll find a way to resurrect Vecna, okay?”

“I’ll probably tell Robin,” Steve admits.

“I always assume you’ll tell Robin; she doesn’t count.” Eddie chuckles under his breath with a crooked smile, peeling his notebook away from his chest. “Alright, here.”

He looks away as he hands the notebook to Steve and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. Eddie’s art takes up two full pages, the cabin sketched in pencil and the fireplace detailed with varying shades of graphite. Dark gray stones from the mantle to the ceiling, roaring flames that seem to move in tandem with the fire right in front of them, dancing and crackling both on the page and in real life. The wooden logs on the page mirror the old-world charm of the walls that surround them, and in the center of it all, Steve sits on the couch with Eddie’s legs in his lap and a notebook in Eddie’s hands.

Steve looks closer, picking out the minutiae he’s missed from his own perspective. His features are soft, shadows from the fire across his Hawkins High hoodie, and more importantly, Eddie isn’t drawing in his sketch. He’s not scribbling away, shading, his tongue just barely poking out between his teeth in concentration. No, on the page, Eddie’s not even looking at his notebook.

He’s looking at Steve.

“Wow,” Steve exhales, finally looking back to Eddie and his hesitant, worried eyes. “Ed, this is incredible. You call this uninteresting?”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” he responds. The I love you stays silent. “Is this really how you see me?”

“Not exactly. I’m uh,” Eddie pauses, seems to draw up courage as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m not a good enough artist to draw you how I see you.”

Silence sits heavy between them, joining them on the couch as Steve tries to figure out what to do, how to decipher if the warmth in his chest is from what he thinks Eddie’s trying to say or from the fire in front of them.

It’s just the two of them and, well, words have never really been Steve’s strength, have they?

Eventually, he’ll find the words to tell Eddie how he sees him, how he feels about him; Steve will tell him that he feels like hot chocolate and warm blankets, and that sometimes he drives him a little insane but in all of the best ways.

For now though, it’s just the two of them with Steve’s lips against Eddie’s, and that’s more than enough.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steddieholidaydrabbles #steddiemas2024 #myblurbs #posting from the waiting room of the vet ER because piper mysteriously cut her paw???#what the fuck kid #anyways apologies for typos etc

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cy-lindric · 8 months ago

Note

i am SOOOO interested in all of your Massà posts!! the twin princess (and of course gay monastery shenanigans) has really caught my eye!!! do you have any lore you’re willing to share? id be so excited to hear >_<

Hello ! Thanks a lot for your interest !

Massà is the setting for the big graphic novel I've signed about a year ago. I'm working on it side by side with my character design gigs and since it's a 200-or-so pages long beast I'm sorry to say it'll be a while before you guys can get an actual look at the story ! But I've been posting tidbits on my insta here and there.

The world it's set in is a low-ish fantasy alternate of XVth century Provence. The twins are called Sàvi and Sefia, and Sefia is married to a guy from the ruling family of the neighbour realm of Longitania (aka cursed Long France) That's guy number two below. would have loved niche subreddits and making spreadsheets if that was available to him

Since most of the intrigue takes place in the monastery the Longitans and Twin Princes intervene only in a handful of scenes so this is mostly lore for the sake of lore but here are some snippets of them and their delegation from the rough pages !

and a bonus wip panel for an extra display of artistry (pov : you've just called the prince a cockroach in front of all the Longitan ambassadors)

#vipères #savi IX #léodric #héliodore #séfia #replies #sshireens #LLDV #Massa

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double-aa-batteries · 8 months ago

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things about about TSC I can't stop thinking about

"hindsight was a backstabbing bitch"

curtains symbolizing jeans healing journey, how he keeps them closed at Abby's in a effort to recreate the nest in search of some normalcy, how he opens them and looks out the window his new apartment, seeking calm in his overwhelm

"I want to go home" (13) meaning evermore vs. "I want to go home" (329) meaning to his apartment with Laila, Cat and jeremy

the fact that jean's phone is probably still in Abby's freezer

Kevin "their kindness matters" Day

Neil's smile is as unsettling to everyone else as it is to him and he has so much more Nathaniel in him than he recognizes in his own pov

Jean is so similar to neil in that they're both petty, dramatic bitches who care deeply about their teammates' safety

riko and the ravens quite literally took jean's name from him (Jean-Yves, Jonny, Paris)

"[Renee's] love was so tender it looked like grief as it curled her mouth and made her eyes shine"

jean gets forehead kisses from Renee and Cat

"that creepy little goalkeeper Andrew Minyard"

jean's many nicknames for neil: tiny bastard, tedious malcontent, abominable cockroach, wretched little runaway, ignorant child, etc.

Neil took the bandage off of jeans 3 and promptly stuck it over Kevin's chess peice

"I should have let him kill you," Jean said. "Probably," Neil agreed, "but you didn't, so here we all are."

"...aside from his outstanding murder charge, there was nothing interesting about that fox"

the fact that the point of tfc was to show characters who couldn't/wouldn't/ or were unable to heal from the trauma they had faced and yet from the very beginning and without question, TSC is about jean clawing his way forward and toward healing no matter what

the cheese drawer

dadmack dialed up to 1,000 See: "i will burn this house down before I let them touch you"

bisexual jean Moreau panicking over his teammates in swimsuits and Jeremy's long legs

"He's earned the right to be arrogant"

riko couldn't bring himself to hurt wymack because he was Kevin's father and Kevin was like a brother to riko and riko has always yearned for a father's recognition

Alvarez has a motorcycle and jean didn't say no to learning how to ride it

we know next to nothing about Jeremy Knox despite having chapters in his pov (why was he in therapy? why was his dad in France? what the hell did he do at the Fall banquet his freshman year to tear his family in half?)

that being said: Jeremy Knox is a rich boy with a butler

everything about Catalina Alverez

the fact that Jeremy knox has two brothers and one of them is probably dead

"rather than force the Trojans underground for that part, they simply built steps up and over it inside the stadium" the JUXTAPOSITION

Alvarez cooks and so now does jean

we know for a fact riko subjected Kevin to "subtler cruelties" while he was in the nest

"they never should have said yes when you asked" and "I didn't ask"

"as if you can tell a girl apart from a cow on a good day"

"permission to break his face, coach?" jean asked. "denied," white said.

all of thanksgiving pt. II

"alarm looked wrong on a face born for smiling"

jean casually saying "your apologies are as useful as perfume on a frog" to Lucas

Neil's whole relationship with Jean

David "I believe we all have the choice to be better than the hands that shaped us" Wymack

Neil generally being a menace to society but especially "Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to it's front bumper and said, 'thats illegal, just so you know.'"

"the cracking heat in his chest could have been his ribs snapping or his heart breaking"

#tsc #tsc spoilers #the sunshine court #aftg #all for the game #jean moreau #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #jeremy knox #cat alvarez #laila dermott

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ssprayberrythings · 11 months ago

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seeing the world | DR3

daniel ricciardo x female!reader / smau fic

pov: you and daniel spend your holidays travelling all over and keep everyone updated by documenting everything on your socials 🔆

warnings: just fluff on fluff !!

oh wow i've been away for sometime...sorry about that! but i come baring gifts aka a daniel ricciardo smau fic which i hope you all enjoy!

masterlist | taglist

yourusername posted on their story

caption: lets go explore the world 🗺️ @danielricciardo

*replies disabled*

danielricciardo posted on their story

caption: we're going on an adventure 💛 @yourusername

*replies disabled*

yourusername posted on instagram

landonorris, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, yourbestfriend & others liked

somewhere in the mountains ⛰️

tagged: danielricciardo

view all comments

fan1: my favourite couple

fan23: one day i want what danny and y/n have

yourbestfriend: whose idea was it for zip lining ?

╰ yourusername: who do you think 🙃

fan55: i cant wait to see where else they go

danielricciardo: i love you

╰ yourusername: i love you more

╰ fan22: ^ is this too much to ask for

danielricciardo posted on instagram

yourusername, maxverstappen1, redbullracing, charles_leclerc and others liked

first travel destination was a success ✅

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername: youre the cutest

╰ danielricciardo: 😘

landonorris: im sure the .jpg account is gonna be filled by the end of these travels

fan22: wonder where they’re off to next

fan15: ive never seen danny look so happy before ☺️

fan3: y/n brought our happy go lucky daniel back to us and for that we love her

╰ liked by yourusername

yourusername posted on their story

caption: he will find any reason he can to get behind the wheel 😝

╰ danielricciardo: not true..

╰ yourusername: babe, dont lie..

╰ danielricciardo: okay maybe partially true..

more replies…

╰ fan23: danny and his two loves: y/n and driving

╰ fan21: sorry but his thigh tattoo >>

╰ fan12: that smile 🥹

yourusername posted on instagram

redbullracing, danielricciardo, landonorris, yourbestfriend and others liked

from mountains to beaches 🏝️

tagged: danielricciardo

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danielricciardo: my gorgeous girl

╰ yourusername: my beautiful boy

fan24: y/n truly is the prettiest girl ive ever seen

fan22: they’re living their best lives

fan12: i HOPE Y/N IS VLOGGING THIS I NEED THIS IN VIDEO FORM

╰ liked by yourusername

fan12: SHE LIKED OMG HOPEFULLY ITS TRUE

landonorris: you got some sand on your knees..

╰ yourusername: geez thanks, i had no idea

╰ landonorris: always happy to help 😊

╰ yourusername: 🙄

danielricciardo posted on instagram

yourusername, landonorris, yourbestfriend, alex_albon & others liked

my happiest place; next to you

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

fan12: IM DYING

fan15: the highway is looking real comfortable

yourusername: you’re such a sap ☺️

╰ danielricciardo: for you, always

fan27: CUTENESS OVERLOAD

landonorris: who knew you could be such the romantic

╰ danielricciardo: you should take notes 😎

fan16: lando and danny’s dynamic hasn’t changed and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THAT

yourusername posted on their story

caption: next destination here we come ✌🏻

*replies disabled*

yourusername posted on instagram

danielricciardo, landonorris, yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc & others liked

somewhere in the south of france 🇫🇷

tagged: danielricciardo

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danielricciardo: je taime ❤️

╰ yourusername: 🥰

fan2: FRANCE? PLEASE WE NEED DANNYY/N AT THE EFFIEL TOWER

fan15: FRANCE IS SO ROMANTIC

fan23: go to monaco please and thanks !!

yourbestfriend: so jealous but also so happy for you two 🥹

╰ yourusername: we’re still gonna go on our girls trip across italy don’t worry 🥹

╰ liked by yourbestfriend

danielricciardo posted on instagram

landonorris, yourbestfriend, yourusername, maxverstappen1 & others liked

got to see all of france and i think it may be my favourite place we've travelled to ❤️

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

fan12: THE FRENCH F1 FANS HOW YOU DOING

fan4: FRENCH FAN HERE: THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY

fan9: i ran into y/n and danny while they were on the train and I CAN CONFIRM THE SWEETEST TWO PEOPLE YOU’LL EVER MEET

yourusername: i’d come back here with you any day ❤️

╰ danielricciardo: maybe we’ll move here one day?

╰ yourusername: youre getting a bit ahead of yourself..but maybe…one day down the road !!

fan23: imagine danny living in france? NOPE I CANT..I NEED THIS TO BE REALITY

yourusername posted on their story

caption: there’s so much love in the air ❤️ @danielricciardo

╰ danielricciardo: ❤️

danielricciardo posted on their story

caption: more adventures await us ✈️ @yourusername

*replies disabled*

yourusername posted on instagram

danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, redbullracing, charles_leclerc & others liked

light shows and sunsets with my favourite boy 🧡

tagged: danielricciardo

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fan12: AWE DAN LOOKS SO CUTE

fan1: they are serving !!!

fan15: at this point i never want the racing season to start just so they can keep travelling the world

fan16: THE LIGHTS REMIND ME OF RAPUNZEL

╰ fan4: YES OMG

danielricciardo: my very own princess 😘

╰ yourusername: my prince 🥰

danielricciardo posted on their story

caption: and they lived happily ever after ❤️ @yourusername

╰ yourusername: our fairytale 🥹

more replies…

╰ fan22: rapunzel and flynn

╰ fan21: a real life prince and his princess

╰ fan20: brb taking a shower with my toaster 🙃

yourusername posted on their story

caption: home sweet home <3

*replies disabled*

yourusername posted on instagram

danielricciardo, landonorris, yourbestfriend, maxverstappen1, pierregasly & others liked

dan and i are back home after a whole lot of travelling but please enjoy these moments that didn’t make our instagrams originally. we’ll see you all when racing starts back up, until then rest easy and thanks for joining us on this adventure. xo ❤️

tagged: danielricciardo

comments limited

danielricciardo: cant wait to do this for the rest of our lives 😘

╰ yourusername: already planning the next round of travels..😘

╰ danielricciardo: i wouldn’t expect anything less !

thats it! i hope you liked it! i really enjoyed this concept and i loved getting to write something for danny !!

anyways i have a couple drafts started on longer pics that aren't smau style which is why they're taking a bit longer so bare with me, i want to get them right before posting and i want to be sure what i'm posting is something you all will enjoy reading but once i have something i will post as soon as possible!

until then goodbye and hopefully talk soon !! ✌🏻

#ssprayberrythings x formula one #f1 #f1 smau #imagines #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #danny ric #red bull racing #x reader #f1 x reader #ssprayberrythings x talks #dr3 #dr3 x reader #dr3 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one

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jeanmoreautemple · 5 months ago

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Thea Muldani: a rant

I feel weird about Thea but I can’t really put into words exactly why? So I’m writing down some things I’ve thought.

I honestly didn’t think much about her before TSC, like she was okay (I wish she’d been introduced earlier tho or that she hadn’t graduated already so she was a recurrent Raven player or something).

After reading the extra content I wasn’t bothered about the age gap between her and Kevin but yes a little bit about the fact that Kevin was fourteen when they first met + the -you fuck like a virgin, maybe some practice will make you better at it- comment that Nora included. It was uuhh weird but the rest of the Kevthea story was okay, and Thea is 100% not a groomer. Plus, Nora technically deleted the extra content so in theory nothing there is canon yet.

Now in TSC we get her sole appearance in TKM from Jean’s POV, who has known her since he was fourteen (like Kevin- this is important to keep in mind). The scene starts out cute! We find out she took him under her wing and even had nicknames for him like Paris and her little duckling🥰. So the fourteen year boy that just arrived from france with broken English looked up to her, Thea was ~21 at this point.

We know Jean is going through HELL during this time:

And we also know the Moriyamas were always particularly cruel with Jean, getting more physical him than with Kevin. Even though It’s said that Riko would torture Jean and Kevin (broken hand incident) in private, hence the other Ravens not knowing the whole picture, how can a fourteen year old kid hide such pain? But apparently , as we later find out, Thea was too deep into the Evermore raven cult mindset that she didn’t find anything strange about the coach and Rikk’s behavior towards Jean.

At 15 Jean is given a number and place in the perfect court, but only at 16 joins the lineup. He gets a lot of hate, especially from the other defensemen, whom Thea works with:

Although the Ravens are know for being extremely violent training, at least in the court Thea must have noticed that the defense line were especially brutal to Jean. Or SOMETHING.

But here comes the worst part: during this same year Riko forces Jean to sleep with 5 defensemen. By the time Jean is a junior most of these have graduated which means they were 20 or older. So Thea had been playing with each of these guys for at least 2 years (except for Grayson), she knew them.

They went on to joke and talk about the whole ordeal as Jean paying for his perfect court number. Thea also being in the defense line could have heard all of this first hand, we don’t know. But It’s so widely talked about that it reaches Tetsuji and we do know Thea witnessed Jean’s punishment:

Coincidentally Thea starts a sexual and emotional relationship with Kevin this year (it’s her last too).

So here’s the part that made me dislike Thea very much. In TKM she goes to Kevin demanding answers, Kevin then brings her to Jean, who is looking like this:

It’s been three years since she graduated but she’s still wearing her Raven number in a necklace, and when she sees Jean’s state in TSC she comments how if Kevin hadn’t said anything she’d think it normal:

By now it’s clear she at 26 is still 100% brainwashed, but this next line of hers cemented it:

YOUR OLD TRICKS ?!

So let’s break that down:

1. The immigrant kid (16!) she watched over for two years from age 14 to 16 suddenly starts having sex with members of HER (23!) defense line who are all around her age and openly hate him for 5 consecutive nights and she doesn’t suspect anything?

2. Said defensemen then brag and shame Jean afterwards calling him a whore, which leads to Jean getting beaten half to dead by their coach and still nothing?

3. Years later she recalls the incident as Jean being up to his little tricks and being rightfully beaten to a pulp?!!!!

I can’t. I know she’s also a cult victim but no. It was super common for Ravens to have hate sex with each other but her being close to Kevin (and somewhat Jean) during the time Jean’s (a 16 year old!) assaults were happening and still remaining this clueless… I’m sure she must be lovable for both Kevin and Jean to respect and care for her so much but her one scene convinced me she’s way too deep into the Raven spirit and her presence around Kevin and Jean would be just so harmful.

But I have to give credit when it’s due, apparently after some hours with Kevin and 7 years later she believes her King broke Kevin’s hand:

In conclusion:

Thea is absolutely no groomer but if one takes a look at her attitude towards Jean’s sexual history when he was 16 and how her relationship with Kevin was happening simultaneously, her you fuck like a virgin, maybe some practice will make you better at it and tell me you weren’t up to your old tricks comment combo, it all makes me dislike her. Cause you’d think someone who at 22-23 was dating a boy who had just turned legal would be careful or mature enough to choose her wording better when talking about the sexual activity between a boy close in age to her own boyfriend with people around HER age, but nope. The fact that Kevin married her, has a child and lives happily ever after with her seems unbelievable to me.

PS: Her and Kevin’s (we don’t know if he believes Riko) apparent ignorance or lack of suspicion of Jean’s freshman year assault was the most hurtful part of TSC tbh (not counting Elodie). Imagine having the closest people to you misunderstand/ believe lies about such a traumatic event. I guess this is why Nora didn’t include a Andrew POV, I would have died or wanted to kill Nicky and Aaron for not looking deeper into Andrew’s attitude.

#jean moreau #the sunshine court #kevin day #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tsc #Thea Muldani #analysis #my mind

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sheisjoeschateau · 10 months ago

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misha's masterlists

Hi, I'm Misha. Thank you for diving into my stories and supporting my writing :)

My fanfics [+this blog] are dedicated to Steve Harrington. All fanfic series, one-shots, blurbs, etc. listed below are written by me. Do not repost or share anywhere without proper credit. Thank you.

SERIES MASTERLISTS:

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..."

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

[Part IX - blurb] | [Part IX - full]

[Part X] | MORE COMING SOON

SUMMARY: WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU.

HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU...

BUT WILL HE?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"You're there. You've always been there."

Steve Harrington x OC!fem!reader Childhood friends to lovers. Sloooowburn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Action. Told from second-person view, reader is Nicole (character from S1), different POV, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, pre-S1-S4, eventual post-S4 universe.

[PART I] | [PART II]

Summary: Steve Harrington was six years old when he met you: Nicole St. James, the girl who carries the other half of him. Since 1972, the two of you have been inseparably tethered by the soul. You give Steve a home in his big house with no parents, and he gives your introverted heart a longing for someone. The King of Hawkins High and princess of this small town, you tell each other absolutely everything...except that you are in love with each other.

Everything changes that one afternoon at school, when you catch the school's social outcast -- Jonathan Buyers -- has been stalking Steve, his posse and his girl, Nancy. Little do you both know, the monsters in your favorite fairytales are real. And you're both going to have to fight them together.

You both share the best days and worst days, through childhood and teen years, until you both find yourselves roped into the perils that exist beneath your feet in Hawkins.

But through it all, despite all the doubt, Steve knows one thing: you're there. You've always been there.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"At the Chateau, We'll Be Alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional Inso from Joe's theater performance as in Spring Awakening. Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

[MULTI-PART SERIES] COMING SOON. Click here for a preview.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France. This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate. He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good. Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise. A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer. The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality. Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants. Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical. A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet. Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #mishas masterlists #oh so we do love steve #steve and bauman

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yourimagines · 6 months ago

Note

Reader x Kylian Mbappé?

He broke his nose and the reader is a little bit concerned about it

Fluff?

I’m so in love with him 😍

Broken bones

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Swearing, Blood, Angst and fluff

Y/N POV

Kylian was excited for their first match of the euro championship. “I want you to have fun amour.” Kylian walked up and wrapped his arms around me, as I was fixing my hair. “I will root for you my love, just win the first game please.” He smiled and placed a few kisses down on my shoulder as he was looking at me through the mirror. “I try my best for you.”

Kylian was in the locker room with the others of the French team, I was walking to my seat with some snacks in my arms. “Hello miss Y/L/N.” A few fans said as I passed them by. “Hello.” I smiled at them and sat down in my seat. “Good to see you here y/n.” A few girlfriends from the other players were also here. “It is, I’m happy to be here today.” I gave them a kind smile and tried to stay calm, as I was the new wag in the group. “Good, Kylian loves you, he’s a very private man.”

The game has begun and the whole stadium was packed, they were singing, shouting and just having fun. I was watching the game on my own as the others were talking about their life problems. “Come on Kylian.” I mumbled as they lost the ball again. “Y/n, you’re ready for your man’s frustrations.” They joked as they saw me looking intensely at the game as Wöber scored their first goal. I accidentally ignored them and jumped up from happiness as the first goal was scored by France. “Yes! Let’s go!” They all giggled as they saw me standing and clapping for the team. I sat back down and looked at them. “I’m sorry what did you say?” I said with a sheepish smile on my face as I skipped their question. “Nothing.” They smiled at me and went back to their conversation.

The game was okay, nothing to be excited about. Kylian was getting a bit more aggressive in the way he played his game, trying to get the ball. “Come on Kylian.” I whispered to myself as he was running fast over the field. He was closed but got hit in his face, touching his nose. “Oh my god.” I clasped my hands over my mouth as I saw blood was pouring out his nose. “Oh my, he’s hurt.” They all looked at me as Kylian walked back into the field, sitting down on the grass. “He’s okay y/n, I think he only broke his nose.”

Someone from the team got to me and guided me to the locker rooms. Kylian was sitting on a bench as people were talking next to him about taking him to the hospital. “Kylian.” I said as I walked over to him, he looked up and tried to smile as he was holding a tissue against his nose. “Mon Amour.” He was in pain, his nose was crooked to the side. He stood up and I carefully gave him a hug. “Are you okay?” He hummed softly. “I’m going to the hospital right now, you don’t have to come with me amour if you don’t want too, they can bring you to our hotel.” He was concerned about me, I shook my head. “No, I want to come, Kylian you’re hurt.” My hand went over his chest as he painfully nodded. “Okay okay, you can come with me.”

I was a bit afraid, his nose was broken and he was on painkillers. “They won’t operate me right now, if they do I’m out of the selection.” He was tired and a little bit frustrated. “Why does this happen right now huh?” He sits down on our bed and rubs his neck. “I don’t know why but I know you’ll get through this.” I stood between his legs and laid my hands on both of his shoulders. “We get through this amour.” He moved his hands over to my hips, pulling me closer. “You’re in this as well, if you like it or not.” Our lips almost touched each other and I let out a giggle. “Okay, I’m sorry. We get through this.”

Kylian was looking at his phone, a smile was on his face. “Elle est parfaite.” He mumbled to his phone. “Who is perfect?” My French wasn’t the best but I finally started to understand a little bit. He looked up and smiled adorable at me. “You are mon cheri.” I shook my head as my cheeks warmed up. “Yes you are, look.” He turned his phone to me. A TikTok video was playing, it was about me. “Look how you cheered at us, baby they all love you.” I shyly hide my face with my hands. “Non, Ne me cache pas ton visage, mon amour.” He gently grabbed my hands and pulled them away, closer to his face and gently pressed some soft kisses on them. “You’re perfect, I love you, the fans love you.”

Kylian POV

She was blushing hard as I was praising her, about how perfect she was and that I love her. “Kylian…” she shyly said as I pulled her onto my lap. “You are so beautiful, never change baby.” I pressed a few kisses on her cheeks as she started to giggle. “Promise me.” She was looking at me with her beautiful eyes. “I promise if you promise it as well.” I smiled again and gently pressed a kiss on her sweet lips. “Je promets mon amour.” She smiled and softly kissed me back. “I promise.” She whispered against my lips.

She was laughing about a meme she saw on the internet. “That would be so funny.” Her eyes were filled with tears as her stomach began to hurt. “The turtle mask?” I asked her, she nods as she turned her phone towards me. “I can’t wear that, it’s against the regulations.” She wiped away her tears and moved closer to me. “I know, it’s just funny….” I hummed and gently placed her phone down. “I have a turtle mask at home, I can wear that for you.” She shook her head and gently placed a kiss on my cheek. “No, I like your face.” I let out a small laugh and kissed her gently on her lips. “I like your face too.”

She was still worried about me, she was happy that I wasn’t playing against the Netherlands. “Baby I’m okay, the painkillers are doing their job.” She was gently rubbing my shoulders as I sat down on our bed. “I know but….its broken Kylian.” She was clearly upset and it was upsetting me. “Mon amour, please. I’m okay.” I carefully touched my nose, she immediately pulled my hand away. “Don’t touched it, what if you accidentally moved it back out of his place, making it all crooked again.” I laughed and shook my head. “That’s not going to happen, I only touched my skin.” She shook her head and pouted at me. “Mon amour, stop. It makes me upset as well. I’m okay.” I grabbed her by her hands and pulled her into my lap. “Hey, I’m okay. Please don’t be upset. Ça me fait mal de te voir comme ça.” She laid her head down on my shoulder, kissing softly my neck. “I’m sorry, Je t’aime Kylian.” I smiled and tilted my head to side, placed a kiss on her lips. “Je t’aime mon cheri.”

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f14fun · 4 months ago

Text

pixelated love (!simmer x mv1) - chapter 8

synopsis: in which the famous three time world champion max verstappen wants to learn how to play the sims 4. except, he doesn't really know how to. so what does he do, search up a youtube tutorial. low-and-behold, y/n's video is the first he watches.

smau + prose (8.4K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ prev | next | series index ˚୨୧⋆｡

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

જ⁀➴✎ ❛❛Y/N's POV❞

The funny thing about catching feelings is that you never know when the walk becomes a stroll, then a jog, and eventually turns into what seems like a never-ending chase.

It’s a flurry of emotions, each step more fervent than the last. At first, you might think it’s just a casual stroll—something light and easy, just taking in the sights and sounds. But then, it evolves into a leisurely walk, where you find yourself more invested, more attentive to the nuances of the path you’re on.

As you get more involved, the pace quickens, and suddenly, what was once a gentle amble has turned into a brisk jog. Your heart starts to race, and every moment feels charged with potential and possibility. The thrill of the chase sets in; you’re no longer just moving along the path but running towards something that feels both exhilarating and daunting.

And just when you think you’ve reached the peak of intensity, the chase turns into a marathon. The emotions swirl around you like a storm, sometimes exhilarating, sometimes overwhelming. It’s as if you’re in a never-ending pursuit, where every stride is driven by hope, fear, and anticipation. It’s a whirlwind of highs and lows, where the finish line seems perpetually just out of reach.

The moment I truly felt my peak of intensity was the moment that I landed in Nice, France, ready to embark towards my ultimate destiny: Being the ultimate Monacan WAG. If you truly believed that last statement, dear reader, I must call you gullible.

Anyhow, the Nice Côte d'Azur Airport had welcomed me with open arms, giving me the twenty kilometer leeway of relief before I was due in the beautiful Principality of Monaco.

And don't get me wrong, but I was scared.

The facade that I put up everyday on stream, on social media, was only a fraction of who I really was. I was left wondering to myself in the hours leading up to meeting Max, "Would he really like me for who I was? What if this was one humongous joke I was apart of, and I was doomed to be the laughingstock?"

Arriving in Monaco, surrounded by its opulence and charm, only heightened my feelings of vulnerability. The grandeur of the setting made my personal fears feel even more pronounced. Would the real me, with all my imperfections and uncertainties, measure up to the expectations set by the facade I had carefully crafted online?

To be put simply, I was only a girl. And I really, really, really hoped that multimillionaire Dutch Formula One racer Max Emilian Verstappen would take pleasure in meeting me.

I had texted Max how I should meet with him, nonchalantly, of course. But on the inside, my palms were sweaty. I was nervous. In person, I wouldn't say I was the best flirt. I was more like that one twelve year old boy at the pool trying to impress a friend group of sixteen year old girls.

I fumbled on my words. I tripped. I missed. I blushed. I ran. I wept about my mistakes, and kept thinking what the absolute fuck did I just say? Why did that just come out of my mouth? I am stupid. I am so stupid.

Simply put, I didn't have much rizz.

Honestly, if I could headbutt myself, I definitely would. I had set myself up for utmost failure for acting like a confident prick, over text, over stream, and over Twitter. I acted like I had it all together, but in reality, if a tall, handsome guy were to actually approach me, you’d see me stumbling over my words and turning into a nervous wreck.

It was pathetic, really.

And oh my gosh, dear reader, if you had seen the look on my face when I had Googled Max Verstappen for the first time...

It was shameful, I will admit.

Learning that he stood six inches above me at his 5'11" stature... I was blushing in the comforting shadows of my bedroom, fearfully gripping my phone, as if Max himself was going to suddenly appear in my room and catch me red-handed, shamelessly watching edits of him.

Hiding under the covers at two am before a long day at work, and pondering if his big, big, bicep muscles from holding a steering wheel all day could eventually hold me in his comforting grasp. Daydreaming, in the middle of meetings with high-end game-development executives, if I could sudden run into his chest and have him hug me until I couldn't breath. Wondering, if I could sit on his thighs one day, and using his veiny hands, he could hold me by my waist and his steamy breath talk into my ear.

Yeah, I get no bitches and I'm horny.

It's pretty obvious to y'all at this point. Don't be a mean girl and judge, though.

And with all of these thoughts, I am not afraid to think them. In the shower, making dinner, watching him race...But it was all put in perspective when I stood outside of his apartment door, waiting for him to let me into his home.

It felt private. Intimate. Different, than all the displays of affection and joyous laughter we shared with the public.

But now I was in the comfort of his home. No prying cameras (at least I hoped that there were no hidden cameras), away from the never-ending watchful eye of the public.

The first thing I noticed about him were his eyes. They were a piercing, greenish, blueish, grayish color—a mix of the sea and comets, a blend of colors I couldn't quite put my finger on.

It was like they held the depth of the ocean, the intensity of a storm, and the mystery of the cosmos all at once. In the soft light of the doorway, they seemed almost otherworldly, drawing me in with their enigmatic allure.

Many people online had said that these eyes were constantly hardened, a result of years spent racing under intense pressure, dealing with tough words from his father, and the unwavering support and strength he garnered from his sister and mother.

They were eyes that had seen the highs of victory and the lows of defeat, that had faced criticism and expectation head-on, and had come out stronger on the other side.

These eyes told a story of resilience and determination, of someone who had been through the wringer and had emerged with a steely resolve. The internet was filled with tales of his focused, almost intimidating gaze on the racetrack, where every glance was calculated and every blink was a strategy.

They spoke of a man who had to grow up fast, who had to build walls to protect himself from the harsh realities of his world.

But when he looked at me, I could swear that I saw them soften.

They drew me in, and for a moment, I knew I could write poetry about them. There was a story in every shade, every flicker of light within those eyes. I could imagine penning verses about their depth, their history, and the way they seemed to hold entire worlds within them.

Suddenly, all my nerves and the fear of being a fumbling, awkward mess seemed to dissipate, at least a little. There was something in the way he looked at me that made me feel seen, like he was looking past the persona and seeing the real me. It was a mix of relief and disbelief, like maybe, just maybe, this wasn't going to be the disaster I had built up in my head.

I had never believed in the saying, "love at first sight", but I could've sworn my heart skipped a beat, if not multiple, when I locked eyes with him. Like I predicted, he was a tall, tall, man. And I, like a lot of people in this world, was not immune to the charm of a tall man.

"Oh, you are very tall," I blurted out.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. The words had slipped past my tongue and out of my mouth, bypassing the more sensible part of me, aka my brain. Damn you, stupid weak heart.

I could feel my face heating up, a wave of embarrassment washing over me. Out of anything I literally could have said, my intrusive thoughts had gotten the best of me. My inner voice was screaming at me to pull it together, but it was too late. The words were out there, hanging awkwardly in the air between us. My poster slumped slightly, there was literally no way to recover this. I desperately needed to find a galvanized stainless steel block to bash my head against repeatedly.

Max chuckled softly, a sound that somehow made me feel a bit more at ease despite my flub. "And you must be Y/N," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Welcome."

Taking a deep breath, I tried to regain my composure. "Yeah, that's me," I said with a small, nervous laugh. "Sometimes when someone makes me hella nervous, it just happens, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" I started, but he cut me off gently.

"I make you nervous?" He smirked at me. "Well I didn't know that."

Okay. Cut the cameras, deadass. I quite literally felt like I was a main character in that weird-ass phone game Episode (yes, my guilty pleasure at three am but nonetheless a fun hobby to have) It was like one of those cliché moments where the charming love interest says something flirty, and the protagonist’s heart skips a beat. Except this was real life, and my heart was doing somersaults.

I could feel my face heating up again, but this time, there was a small part of me that felt… excited? Maybe this wouldn't be a complete disaster after all. Trying to play it cool, I flashed a shy smile. "Yeah, well, you're pretty intimidating in person," I said, hoping to keep the conversation light.

"I cannot believe you said that, I'm just a really big cuddly bear," Max laughed at me, opening his arms out for a hug.

For a split second, I hesitated, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts. But then, the warmth in his eyes and the genuine smile on his face melted away any remaining nervousness.

Stepping forward, I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his strong yet gentle embrace envelop me. It was like being pulled into a cocoon of safety and comfort, his presence immediately soothing the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

As we hugged, I felt the tension in my body start to ease. His arms were warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the anxiety that had been gnawing at me since I landed. In that moment, it felt like all the awkwardness and worries faded into the background. It was just the two of us, sharing a simple, sincere connection.

The hug lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to make me feel grounded and welcomed, a silent promise that maybe this really was the beginning of something special.

And I did believe him, that he was just a really big cuddly bear. His laugh was warm like honey, and I could definitely get used to hugging those biceps and burrowing my head in his chest, like a teddy bear. All I could think of was the moment I whipped out my phone to get on Twitter I would tweet, #needthat.

What???

I'm just a girl.

"You're really fucking cute," Max suddenly stated, his soft voice interrupting my daydream.

Wait wait wait what?? Backtrack please?? Did Max Verstappen just call me cute, as he leans on the fucking doorway and I can see his biceps bulge as he-

Noticing my shocked expression, and my jaw must have been hanging out for a considerably long time without responding, he started to laugh at me.

"I hope I was the first person to tell you that today," He continued.

"Y-you certainly were the first person to say that, oh my," I sputtered, a creeping blushing arising from my neck and blossoming onto my cheeks.

Max's eyes sparkled with mischief as he stepped closer, closing the distance between us. "Well, it's about time someone did," he said, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "I've been looking forward to this moment for a while, you know."

I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure. "You have?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. The bold, flirtatious Max standing in front of me was a stark contrast to the more reserved person I knew online. It was disorienting, but also incredibly intriguing.

This side of him was magnetic, drawing me in with a mix of confidence and playfulness that I hadn't anticipated. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the realization hitting me that the dynamic between us had shifted entirely.

Online, I had always been the one with the witty comebacks and cheeky comments, but now, standing here in his presence, I felt like I was discovering a whole new dimension of our connection. His boldness was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, making me wonder just how many other surprises he had in store.

"Absolutely," he replied with a grin. "Seeing you now, in person, you're even more stunning than I imagined." He leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving mine, and I felt my heart race faster with every passing second.

"Oh, wow, um, thank you," I stammered, feeling my shyness take over. It was surreal—here I was, the one who had always been confident and playful online, now reduced to a blushing mess in front of him.

Max chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the role reversal. "You know, I always found your confidence online really attractive," he said. "But seeing you like this, all shy and flustered... it's pretty adorable too."

I bit my lip, trying to steady my nerves. "Well, you were always the cool, mysterious racer," I said, attempting to regain a bit of my former bravado. "It's kind of unfair that you're also charming in real life."

He laughed, a rich, warm sound that made my heart flutter. (And I could swear I could hear hundred dollar bills when he laughed) "Guess we both have our secrets," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I have to say, I kind of like seeing this side of you."

"Yeah?" I replied, feeling a small surge of confidence. "Maybe you'll see more of it, if you keep being this sweet."

Max took a step closer, his presence enveloping me like a warm blanket. "Oh, I plan to," he said, his voice low and intimate. "Getting to know the real you is something I've been looking forward to. Online was fun, but this...this is so much better."

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks again, but this time it was mixed with excitement. "Well, you better keep up the charm then," I teased, trying to match his playful energy. "I'm not that easy to impress, you know."

He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Is that a challenge?" he asked, leaning in slightly, his proximity making my heart race even faster.

"Maybe it is," I said, my voice daring but my insides turning to jelly. "Think you can handle it?"

Max grinned, his confidence unwavering. "Oh, I know I can," he said smoothly. "And by the end of this trip, you'll see just how serious I am."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of anticipation and thrill coursing through me. The flirty banter, the unexpected boldness, and the undeniable chemistry between us—it was all so intoxicating. As I looked into his eyes, I realized that this was just the beginning of an adventure that was sure to be full of surprises and unforgettable moments. Spending time with Max felt completely different from any of my past relationships.

There was a new air about him, a different kind of electricity that sparked between us. Unlike the fleeting attention I had received from past lovers, who barely gave me a minute of their day, Max's presence was all-encompassing. He made me feel seen and valued in a way I hadn't experienced before. Each moment with him was charged with genuine interest and warmth, making me feel like I was the only person in the world.

The thought of what lay ahead made my heart race with a mixture of nervousness and exhilaration. I knew that being with Max would be an experience unlike any other, a journey where we would both reveal our true selves and create memories that would last a lifetime.

Don't call me naive, dear reader, because in the moment, it truly felt that way to me...And I really hoped that he felt the same too.

"Alright then," I said, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. "Game on."

Max's smile widened, and he extended his hand. "Game on," he echoed, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me as our fingers intertwined.

"Come on in," he said, leading me into his apartment.

As soon as we stepped inside, I realized that 'apartment' was an understatement. The place felt more like a huge penthouse rather than the modest apartment he had made it out to be. It was luxurious yet still quite plain and humble, a reflection of Max himself. The high ceilings, expansive windows, and elegant but understated furniture gave it a sense of grandeur without being ostentatious.

The living area was open and airy, with floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking, a sprawling panorama of twinkling lights and distant landmarks that seemed to stretch endlessly. Despite the grandeur, there was an inviting warmth to the space. The furniture, though minimal, was meticulously chosen—sleek modern lines with plush, comfortable seating that suggested a home where one could truly relax.

As we moved through the apartment, I noticed the subtle details: a few well-placed art pieces, not too many, just enough to add character without overwhelming the space. The kitchen was state-of-the-art, with shiny countertops and high-end appliances, but it was evident that Max wasn’t a chef—there were no intricate gadgets or utensils, just the basics. The sparse decorations spoke volumes about his personality: practical and unpretentious.

"Wow," I said, looking around in awe. "You really weren’t kidding when you said you had a big place. This is incredible."

Max shrugged, a hint of embarrassment on his face. "Yeah, I guess it’s a bit bigger than most apartments," he said with a sheepish grin. "But, as you can see, I didn’t exactly go all out on decorating. I’m not really into interior design and don’t have a clue how to make it look... well, more 'homey.'"

I laughed, finding his modesty endearing. "Well, if you ever want to change that, I’m your go-to person," I offered playfully. "I could definitely give this place a bit more personality."

"Oh, really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "And what if I said I might be more inclined to actually spend more time here if you did?"

I grinned, feeling a spark of excitement at the prospect. "Challenge accepted," I said. "I’ll have to draw up some design ideas for you. Just don’t be surprised if you come home one day and find your place looking like a completely different world."

Max chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Are you saying you’re going to turn my penthouse into something out of a magazine?"

"Something like that," I replied, trying to keep a straight face. "But with a touch of ‘Y/N’ flair. I promise it won’t be all pink and sparkles—unless you really want it to be."

"I think I'd rather die," He rolled his eyes, making me a victim of the sassy man apocalypse. Letting out a sudden bark of laughter, my eyes widened, surprised at the ugly ass noise I just let out.

"Wait no I take it back, it would be way better if I just paint it neon green and tweeted #BratSummerTakeover," I laughed.

"This is way worse than the pink what the hell..." Max laughed at my antics. Finally, he was matching my freak!

"Honestly, CharliXCX and Brat Twitter would probably save you if you got canceled, just because you made your apartment Brat themed," I countered, eye brows raising and daring him to challenge me.

"What would I even get cancelled for? Being too devilishly handsome, maybe," He asked, smirking at me.

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, and I knew I was blushing a lot. "Well, maybe," I stammered, trying to regain my composure. "Or for making girls like me turn bright red with just a few words."

Max's smirk widened, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. "I think I could live with that," he said, his voice low and teasing. "But seriously, I like seeing this side of you. It's cute."

I blushed even more, trying to deflect the compliment with humor. "Well, you might get canceled for making me turn this red," I quipped, feeling a bit bolder. "And for having terrible taste in decor. Honestly, who wouldn’t want a neon green penthouse? It’s the height of fashion."

Max shook his head, still laughing. "Okay, okay. Maybe we should stick to something a bit more... timeless. How about a black and white theme? Classic, elegant, and less likely to blind anyone who walks in."

I pretended to consider it, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, that could work. But only if we add some gold accents. You know, to bring out the sparkle in your eyes."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Gold accents, huh? You really think my eyes sparkle?"

"Like diamonds, just like that one Rihanna song," I said, batting my eyelashes and throwing my hands up in a dramatic fashion. "But seriously, I think we can make this place look amazing. Just trust me."

Max smiled, his gaze softening. "I do trust you. And I’m actually looking forward to seeing what you come up with. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," I said, leaning in closer, our hands brushing against each other again. I was literally going bonkers from the sexual tension between us two, and I wasn't sure how long I could take it for the next week, before the dam overflowed. And trust me, I don't mind if this dam overflows. Wink wink.

"Promise me you won’t turn it into a jungle. I don’t think I could handle that much greenery," he said with a playful wink.

I laughed, nodding. "Deal. No jungle theme. But I can’t promise there won’t be a few plants. They add life, you know?"

Max grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, a few plants I can handle. Just no turning my place into a botanical garden."

I gave him a teasing look. "You never know, a few well-placed ferns could really spruce the place up. Besides, they say talking to plants helps them grow. Maybe it’ll work wonders for you too."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "Are you implying I need help growing? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve hit my growth spurt."

I laughed, feeling more at ease with each playful exchange. "No, just that a little greenery might make this place feel more like home. Plus, it could give you someone to talk to when you’re not racing around the world."

"Well, if you’re around, I’ll have plenty of company," he said with a wink. "And maybe you can teach me how to take care of them without killing them."

"I’d be happy to," I replied, smiling. "But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to choose some low-maintenance plants. Wouldn’t want you to feel overwhelmed."

"Thanks," he said, his tone sincere. "I appreciate that. But seriously, it’ll be nice to have you help me make this place feel more like home."

"Anytime," I said, feeling a warm glow from his words. "Just promise you won’t get any bright ideas about adding a racecar in the living room."

Max chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "No promises. But I’ll try to restrain myself."

He glanced at my luggage and then back at me. "Let me help you with those," he offered, moving towards the pink suitcases. "I’ll take them to the guest room."

As he picked up the bags, I couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he handled them. The way his muscles flexed under his shirt made my heart race. It was impossible to ignore how strong and capable he looked, making even the heavy suitcases seem weightless. Every movement seemed to highlight his athletic build, and I found myself momentarily distracted by the sheer physicality of him.

He had insisted on me staying at his apartment for the seven days I was in town, refusing to let me book a hotel. "You’ll be more comfortable here," he had said on our phone call earlier, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was sweet, really, and incredibly sexy watching him take charge like this. The thoughtfulness behind his actions made me feel special and cared for in a way that I hadn’t experienced before.

As he carried my luggage, I couldn't help but admire the ease with which he moved, the definition in his arms and shoulders evident with each step.

I followed him down the hallway, my eyes shamelessly glued to his back, watching the way his muscles shifted beneath his shirt. Each step he took seemed to exude confidence and strength, a silent testament to his physical prowess. I couldn't help but admire how the fabric of his shirt clung to his form, accentuating every line and curve of his well-toned physique.

God, I could talk about his slutty little waist for days. The little fancams they showed on F1TV or YouTube did not do it justice. Seeing him in person, the way his waist tapered into those perfectly fitted jeans, was a whole different experience. It was mesmerizing, almost unfair how well his physique was sculpted.

As he walked ahead of me, the fabric of his shirt stretched taut across his back and narrowed at his waist, highlighting the lean, athletic build that had become a defining part of who he was. It was the kind of detail that fans like me only dreamed about, and here I was, witnessing it up close.

I was such a lucky little bitch.

My mind wandered to the countless hours he must have spent training, not just in the gym but on the track as well. It was a different kind of dedication, one that went beyond what most people understood. There was something undeniably attractive about a person who was so committed to their craft, and it only added to the allure that Max already possessed.

As he led me into the guest room, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was Max Verstappen's personal space, a glimpse into the life of someone I had admired from afar. The room was spacious and inviting, with large windows that allowed natural light to flood in, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

Max set my bags down gently and turned to face me, his expression softening. "There you go," he said with a warm smile. "If you need anything, just let me know. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks, Max," I replied, giving him a grateful smile. "I really appreciate this."

Just as I was about to say more, Max’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and frowned slightly. "Sorry, I have to take this," he said, holding up the phone. "It’s important."

"Of course, no problem," I said, waving him off. "Take your time."

Max nodded and stepped out of the room, his voice already lowered as he answered the call. Left alone, I took a moment to absorb my surroundings. The bed looked incredibly inviting with its crisp, clean sheets and plush pillows. The journey had been long, and I could feel the fatigue weighing heavily on me.

Without much thought, I kicked off my shoes and sank onto the bed, the mattress soft and supportive beneath me. The room had a calming aura, and despite my excitement, my eyelids grew heavy. I lay back, letting out a contented sigh as I nestled into the pillows.

The last thing I remembered was the distant murmur of Max's voice from the hallway. The day's exhaustion finally caught up with me, and within moments, I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, completely at ease in the unfamiliar yet comforting space.

જ⁀➴✎ ❛❛Max's POV❞

I couldn’t wait to see her cute face after my phone call.

Ever since she showed up at my door an hour ago, luggage in hand and blushing like mad, I knew I wanted to hold her in my arms and never let go. The way she looked so overwhelmed and charmingly nervous had struck a chord with me. But now, here I was, stuck listening to Lando Norris ramble about his trivial girl troubles when all I wanted was to see her again.

Lando’s voice was like a buzzing fly in my ear, and I found myself tapping my foot impatiently, wishing he'd get the hint and stop talking. His high-pitched voice grated on my nerves as he continued his endless rant about the latest drama in his life. I loved the guy, but seriously, this was not the moment for his soap opera.

“—and you would not believe what she said to me next,” Lando’s voice droned on, each word feeling like a needle in my brain. I barely registered his complaints, lost in my own thoughts about her.

“Max! Are you listening to me??” Lando’s voice suddenly pierced through the fog of my thoughts, making me flinch slightly.

“Mhm...” I trailed off, barely processing the words. My mind was focused entirely on her, on how she looked when she first arrived and how peaceful she appeared when I last saw her.

“Oh, what the bloody fuck mate, you’re not listening. Whatever, I'll talk to you later,” Lando said abruptly. Before I could respond, I heard the familiar click of the call ending.

“Hallelujah,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes in relief. The endless chitter-chatter had finally stopped, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

“Oh, what the fuck,” I suddenly exclaimed, realizing that I had wasted enough time. I should be up and finding my houseguest—my possible future wifey—and spending more time with her. I shot up from my seat, a surge of excitement propelling me forward.

The house had been unusually quiet since I’d gotten off the call, and I was eager to see what she was up to. Maybe she was scrolling through her phone, or perhaps she was just getting comfortable. I tiptoed down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb the calm atmosphere of the house.

As I approached the guest room, I could hear nothing but the soft hum of the air conditioning. My heart skipped a beat as I slowly opened the door, peeking inside to see what awaited me. The sight that met my eyes was unexpectedly delightful. There she was, nestled in the bed, having kicked off the fluffy house shoes I’d given her. Her luggage was neatly set aside, and the room was serene, illuminated by the gentle late afternoon light filtering through the curtains.

Her position on the bed was both endearing and surprisingly casual. She had managed to kick the blankets off completely, leaving them in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. The sight of her sprawled out, so relaxed and at ease, made me pause. She looked incredibly peaceful, her hair spread out like a halo around her, and her cheeks were slightly flushed.

My beautiful girl was tired.

A soft smile crept onto my face as I approached her. It was clear that she was deeply asleep, her breathing even and steady. I carefully grabbed the blanket from the end of the bed, making sure not to disturb her. The blanket was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room.

In her sleep, she shifted slightly, letting out little breaths.

As I gently draped it over her, I couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked in this vulnerable state.

The way her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were closed made her seem even more endearing. She had a certain tranquility about her that was utterly captivating. It was a rare and precious sight, and I felt a surge of affection just watching her. Her presence in my apartment, in my space, felt strangely comforting and intimate.

I adjusted the blanket carefully, ensuring it covered her snugly. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, which made me breathe a sigh of relief I didn't realize that I had been holding. I took a moment to appreciate how serene and beautiful she looked. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept was calming to observe, and it made me feel even more connected to her.

I lingered in the doorway for a few seconds, letting the peaceful scene sink in.

In that moment, I really wanted to be her boyfriend. Even though I had just met her in real life a mere forty minutes ago, I wanted to give her everything that she wanted and deserved.

I imagined us spending more time together, exploring new places, and sharing our dreams and fears. I wanted to be the person who made her feel special and loved, who supported her in all her endeavors and celebrated her successes. The thought of being that person for her was more appealing than I’d ever expected.

It wasn’t just about the romantic gestures or grand declarations; it was about the everyday moments of care and attention. I wanted to be there for her in the small, meaningful ways—like making sure she was comfortable, listening to her stories, and sharing in her joys and struggles.

Don't call me naive, but I really, really, really like her.

જ⁀➴✎ ❛❛Y/N's POV❞

In my dreamless state, I could still remember a few things. Like the warm breath of someone hovering over me. I could feel watchful eyes on my back, curious, worried, then relieved. I remember feeling gentle hands pulling my blanket from the foot of the bed to my shoulders, gently covering me.

And when I woke up, I really questioned whether what I felt was a dream. In my room it was silent, almost no trace of whether someone was there or not.

The only anomaly was the fact that before, I had completely shut the door. Now, the door was left ajar, a tiny sliver of the hallway could be seen from where I was propped up in my bed.

Yawning, I could hear the soft hum of the ongoing AC in my room. But if I listened a bit more, I could hear the whirring of the range hood in Max's kitchen further down the hall.

He was cooking?

Wow. Call me surprised.

A few days ago when we called on Discord, he had narrated a few cooking horror stories that had happened to him.

I remembered one particularly gruesome story he shared, one that sounded like it came straight out of a sitcom. It was supposed to be a simple pasta dinner. Max had invited a few friends over, and in his eagerness to impress them with his culinary skills, he decided to make everything from scratch.

(I know, I know, he told me he wanted to have his little Nara Smith moment...I'll give it to him, I guess)

It started with the sauce. He had carefully selected ripe tomatoes and fresh herbs, determined to make the best marinara his friends had ever tasted. But things quickly went downhill. First, he accidentally doubled the amount of garlic. Not a huge issue, right? Just a little more flavor. But then, in his attempt to balance it out, he added way too much salt. Desperate to fix it, he threw in some sugar, which somehow made it even worse.

Next came the pasta. Max had repeatedly watched one Nara Smith video of her making fresh pasta and he figured it couldn’t be that hard.

News flash, incorrect answer buzzer.

He miscalculated the flour-to-egg ratio, resulting in a sticky, unmanageable dough. By the time he managed to roll it out, the dough was uneven and tearing. When he finally got it into the pot, it clumped together into a gooey mess.

Meanwhile, the kitchen was descending into chaos. The range hood was whirring at full blast, struggling to keep up with the smoke billowing from the pan. In his panic, Max forgot to turn the stove down, and the sauce began to boil over, spilling onto the burner and creating a scorched, acrid smell that filled the entire apartment.

Then came the final straw. Max decided to make garlic bread as a last-minute addition. He put it in the oven and got so distracted by the pasta disaster that he forgot about it entirely. By the time he remembered, the bread was more akin to charcoal, emitting a foul, burnt odor that overpowered even the smell of the burnt sauce.

His friends (He told me it was Lando, Daniel, and Carlos) arrived just in time to witness the aftermath. The kitchen was a war zone, with sauce splattered everywhere, clumps of dough sticking to various surfaces, and smoke lingering in the air. The range hood was doing its best, but it was no match for the chaos Max had created.

His friends tried to be polite (Well maybe Daniel and Carlos did but Lando certainly was not), but the horrified expressions on their faces said it all.

Max ended up ordering pizza, and the story became an infamous legend among his friends. They still teased him about it, making jokes about his "gourmet" cooking skills whenever they had the chance.

It was quite a funny story, as Max had vlogged the whole thing, originally wanting to use the video footage as evidence that he could actually cook.

That's fucking hilarious, if you ask me.

When he showed the video footage, I was quite literally cracking up. I swear I had never laughed as hard as I did in my life when he showed me it.

Remembering that story now, I couldn’t help but smile. The fact that he was back in the kitchen, despite that disastrous experience, said a lot about his determination.

And maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. I decided to get up and see for myself what he was up to, hoping that I wouldn't walk into another kitchen catastrophe.

On that account, I found myself to be, again, very much wrong.

It smelled funny in the kitchen.

There was a peculiar mix of something burnt and something…well, unidentifiable. As I approached, the smell intensified, and I began to worry. I rounded the corner to find Max standing over the stove, looking flustered. Smoke billowed up from the pan, and the range hood was struggling to keep up.

"Max, what on God's green earth are you doing?" I asked, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice. I was also, clearly failing at that too, as a hitch in my voice gave away what I was truly feeling.

Dear reader, I was about to burst into a torrential fit of laughter.

He glanced up, his face a mix of sheepishness and determination. "I was trying to make fried rice with beef and onions, but...uh, things aren't going as planned."

I raised an eyebrow. "Clearly. What happened?"

He sighed, waving a hand at the pan. "Well, first, I realized there wasn't much food in the fridge to begin with. I found some rice, a bit of beef, and an onion. Seemed like enough for a simple dish, right? But then the beef started to stick to the pan, so I added more oil, which made the onions cook too fast and burn. And now the rice is clumping together and sticking to everything."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Max, you are a disaster in the kitchen. This is even worse than the pasta incident."

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, I know. But I wanted to impress you. Clearly, I'm failing miserably."

I walked over and peered into the pan. The beef was charred in some spots and raw in others, the onions were practically disintegrated, and the rice looked like a sticky, burnt mess. "Impressive isn't exactly the word I'd use," I teased.

He grinned, despite the chaos. "Hey, at least I'm trying, right? That's got to count for something."

I shook my head, laughing. "It counts for effort, sure. But maybe you should stick to ordering takeout."

He gave me a mock serious look. "Or, you could teach me. You're the one with the design ideas. Maybe you have some cooking tips too?"

I pretended to think about it. "Hmm, I suppose I could. But only if you promise to listen and not improvise."

Max chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. "I promise. No more kitchen disasters."

I smiled, feeling a warm rush of affection. "Alright, let's see what we can salvage here. First things first, let's get rid of this burnt mess."

As we started cleaning up, Max kept sneaking glances at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know, I didn't just burn the food on purpose to get you to come out here and help me, but it's a nice bonus."

I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging him with my shoulder. "Nice try, Verstappen. But if you keep burning things, I might have to take over all the cooking."

"Deal," he said, his grin widening. "As long as you stay."

My heart skipped a beat at his words, and I couldn't help but smile. "You're lucky I'm a sucker for a cute guy who tries to cook."

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "And you're lucky I'm persistent. Now, let's make something edible before we both starve."

I glanced at the pitiful remains of our attempted fried rice. "Or," I suggested, "we could go to the grocery store and get some proper ingredients. Maybe start from scratch with something we can't mess up."

Max's eyes lit up with excitement. "A late-night grocery run? That sounds like a great idea. It's only 8 PM; we've got plenty of time."

I smiled, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of a spontaneous adventure. "Alright then, let's go. But first, let me change out of these pajamas."

Max grinned, leaning a little closer. "Deal. I'll clean up here while you get ready. But you know, you look pretty cute in those pajamas. Maybe we should make it a pajama party instead?"

I rolled my eyes playfully, feeling my cheeks warm. "Nice try, but I think I'll stick with something a bit more appropriate for public."

Max chuckled. "Alright, but don't keep me waiting too long. The sooner we get to the store, the sooner we can start our culinary masterpiece."

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh, now it's a culinary masterpiece? You have high hopes, Mr. Verstappen."

He shrugged, flashing a charming smile. "What can I say? I'm an optimist. Plus, with you by my side, how could it be anything but perfect?"

I laughed, shaking my head as I headed to the guest room to change. "We'll see about that. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Max's voice followed me down the hall. "I'll be counting the seconds, chef."

After changing into something more appropriate—a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater—I met Max in the living room. He had cleaned up the kitchen mess and was now waiting by the door, car keys in hand.

At the door, I slipped on a pair of Birkenstocks, leaning on Max to stabilize myself. Feeling myself slipping all of a sudden, Max grabbed onto my waist and steadied me up. His grip was firm, and I could feel the warmth of his hand through my shirt, sending a little shiver down my spine.

"Careful there," he teased, his voice low and close to my ear. "Wouldn't want you to fall for me… again."

I glanced up at him, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I don't know, Max. It seems like you're getting pretty good at catching me."

He smirked, his hand still resting on my waist, holding me just a little closer than necessary. "Well, practice makes perfect, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, the playful tension between us impossible to ignore. "You might need a few more tries, though. I’m a bit of a klutz."

He chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly against my side. "Lucky for you, I’ve got all the time in the world." My heart was quite literally beating out of my chest and the sexual tension was getting to me. Noticing my beet red face, Max continued.

"Ready to go?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Ready," I replied, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. (And still giggly from the whole previous ordeal)

Max held the door open for me with a dramatic flourish. "After you, my lady," he said with a mock bow.

I laughed, rolling my eyes playfully. "Such a gentleman. You really know how to impress a girl."

As we headed down to the underground garage, Max couldn't resist a bit more teasing. "So, do you have a grocery list, or are we winging it?"

"I think we should wing it," I said, grinning. "Who knows, maybe we'll discover some hidden culinary talents."

"Or set off the smoke alarm again," Max added, smirking.

I nudged him with my elbow. "Hey, I'm a decent cook. I promise I won't let you burn anything."

"Good to know," he replied, his smile widening as we reached his Aston Martin Vantage.

The sleek car gleamed under the garage lights, and I couldn't help but admire it. "Nice ride," I said, running a hand over the smooth surface.

"Thanks," Max said, a hint of pride in his voice. "I figured it would make a good impression."

"You figured right," I said with a wink.

As we pulled out onto the street, the city lights cast a warm glow over everything. The drive through the city was peaceful, the streets mostly empty at this hour. We chatted casually, the conversation flowing easily as we navigated through the urban maze. Max seemed to know the city well, effortlessly weaving through the streets as we made our way to the nearest grocery store.

As we drove through the city, the conversation continued to flow easily. "So, what kind of snacks are we getting?" Max asked, glancing over at me.

"Definitely some chocolate," I replied. "Maybe some chips too. What about you?"

"I was thinking ice cream," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know, for dessert after our gourmet fried rice."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You and your sweet tooth. Fine, we'll get ice cream. But only if you promise not to eat it all in one sitting."

"Deal," Max said, grinning. "I promise to save some for you."

"Max I've seen you devour so much food in one sitting, are you sure you are keeping that promise?" I roll my eyes in mock frustration.

He smirked, glancing over at me. "What can I say? I'm a growing boy."

"Growing boy, huh?" I teased. "Last time I checked, you were already fully grown."

"Just because I'm tall and handsome doesn't mean I can't still grow," he shot back, winking.

I snorted. "Tall and humble, too. Such a rare combination."

"Only for you," he said, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. "I reserve my best qualities for special occasions."

"Well, aren't I lucky?" I said with a laugh. "I guess I'll have to make sure to keep you around for more grocery runs."

"Hey, I'll take any excuse to spend time with you," he replied smoothly. "Even if it means resisting the urge to eat all the ice cream."

I pretended to ponder his words. "Hmm, maybe I should test your willpower. Get a couple of pints and see how long they last."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you challenging me?"

"Maybe I am," I said, grinning. "Think you can handle it?"

"Oh, I can handle it," Max said confidently. "But can you handle me winning?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "We'll see about that. Just don't cry when I catch you sneaking spoonful's in the middle of the night."

"You're on," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. "But be warned, I play to win."

The hum of the Aston Martin's engine was a soothing backdrop to our conversation. The car's interior was luxurious, with plush leather seats and a state-of-the-art dashboard. I couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as we sped through the city, the lights blurring past us in a kaleidoscope of colors.

"So, do you do this often?" I asked, glancing over at Max.

"Late-night grocery runs?" he replied with a grin. "Not really, but I'm always up for an adventure."

I laughed, feeling a sense of camaraderie growing between us. "Well, I think this might be the most exciting grocery run I've ever been on."

Max chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Just wait until we get there. I might even let you pick out some snacks."

"Now you're talking," I said, grinning. "I will never not indulge in big back activities," The prospect of picking out snacks together felt oddly intimate, a small but meaningful step in getting to know each other better.

"Hey! You can definitely tell a lot about a person based on their favorite snacks. People who simply like spicy shrimp crackers are superior!"

Max raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Spicy shrimp crackers? That’s a bold choice. I guess we'll see if our snack preferences align."

"They better," I said, rolling my eyes in mock annoyance. With that, we stepped outside, the crisp air greeting us as we made our way to the grocery store. The city buzzed around us, but all I could focus on was the warmth of his presence beside me and the anticipation of what was quickly becoming an unexpectedly perfect day.

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 278,121 others

yourusername: what in the #domesticlife...#breadbedandbred

view comments:

maxverstappen1: This is a VERY misleading caption, Y/N

maxverstappen1: Nice post, though (please change the caption)

maxverstappen1: Christian also said that the caption is "sussy as hell"... whatever that means

user1: BYEEEE christian "horny" horner strikes again 🤕

user2: ain't nothing SOFT about this LAUNCH y/n 😖😖🤯🫣

yourusername: 🫣🫣🫣

user3: not her casually serving in a groccery store at night, i aspire to be second-slide-y/n

user4: DAMNNNNN IM SLEEPING ON THE HIGHWAY TNNNN GUYS 😐🤧

user5: AYO MAX

user5: hand placement.... you better WATCH yourself

user6: guys i need this so bad, accepting bf applications RIGHT NOW

user7: dude.... Dude.... DUDEEEEE

user8: his gorilla ass grip on the hook of her jean hook im ILL guys I'M SO ILL 🤕🤕

user9: u r so right queen, it's giving #domestic #hubbyandbubby #narasmithlife #walkhimlikeadog

yourusername: i like #walkhimlikeadog 🤯

maxverstappen1: I like #hughimlikeacat better 😌

yourusername: 🐶🐶🐶 ARF MAX

maxverstappen1: You are very VERY weird, Y/N 🤣🤣🤣😂😅

yourusername: ARF ARF ARFFFFF 🐕🐕🐩

user10: we got #walkhimlikeadog daughter versus #hughimlikeacat son before gta 6 😈😈😈🥲

landonorris: Damn, Max, get a grip, you are getting SOFT my boy 😹😹😹

maxverstappen1: Not funny, Lando

yourusername: 😹😹😹

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taglist: @hiireadstuff @sinofwriting @mehrmonga @the-untamed-soul @glai1023-blog @loloekie @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @sheastri @llando4norris @gwginnyweasley @carmenita122 @ririyulife @pausmoon @ur-fav-ave @eveninggstar @maddie-naps @erin-odonnell04 @rexit-mo @ems-alexandra @si1ver06 @iamred-iamyellow @bibissparkles @percypie @formula1blog @lanadelray1989 @rylieverstappen-sargent @luvsforme @eiaaasamantha @kaysmiles42 @mvaldez7821 @stinkyjax @sweate-r-weathe-r @laneyspaulding19 @mingyusbigrighttoe @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @stinkyjax @fandomz-queenie @theblueblub @mayusaatma @lanadelrey @formula1-motogpfan

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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾

216 notes · View notes

itwasntimethatdidit40 · 4 months ago

Text

Special Needs

Gif credits

Pairing/AU: DBF!Joel Miller x F!reader, no outbreak

Rating: +18, Minors please don’t interact, NSFW

Summary: Joel lets you convince him that you can help him get back in shape. (Do you remember the episode of Friends where Monica convinces Chandler to work out with her? The idea came to me while watching that episode. What came out of it, however, has almost nothing to do with that episode. LOL but I used the name Geller as a tribute)

Word count: 4254

Warnings: smut, age gap (reader is 22, Joel's age is not explicitly mentioned but I would say around 46/48), pov switch (I hope I succeeded because it's my first time), reader has breasts and vagina, she is wearing shorts and a sports bra and has a ponytail, other than that there is no other particularly accurate description of her, brat taming dynamic, power dynamic, unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill, please take precautions IRL), spit, cum eating, oral (m receiving), face fucking, fingering (f receiving), sex in a public place (a park LOL), risk of getting caught, swearing (A LOT), Joel is mean, reader is mean too and also a total brat, rough sex, praise kink, a little bit of orgasm control, a lot of bickering, Joel wears shorts (!!!), Joel comes inside her, sort of (?) seed kink, pet names (mostly good girl, honey, bratty little thing, cheeky little thing, babe), use of the term daddy once, readers calls Joel and old man and other nicknames multiple times, Joel slaps reader once during sex, I don’t even know what to say, you all, it’s pure filth 💀 Title is from a Placebo song.

As always, English is not my first language so please be kind, no proofreading, no editing, no beta, it’s all my fault and I’m very sorry, I hope this makes sense, otherwise pretend it never existed, thanks.

And thank you so much for reading my silly little stories, I'm still in disbelief that anyone is interested in what I write 😭

Archive tags: @pedrostories 🥰

Joel hadn’t considered everything when you suggested it. He’d looked at your big, shining eyes as you told him he didn’t need to pay a lot of money to join a gym, you’d take care of getting him in shape.

Running had always been a part of you and you did it every morning so there wouldn’t be any problems.

Luckily, you had just returned from college for the summer and would be spending three months at your parents’ house before classes started again.

At first it seemed like a sentence, you would have preferred to go to Europe with your roommate but you had decided to save the money you had earned working as a waitress and you didn't feel like asking your parents for them.

As soon as you got out of your dad’s car, you saw Joel waving at you from across the street and you remembered when you had a crush on him. You thought you’d put it behind you and that it was just a passing teenage nonsense.

That day you realized that it wasn't like that, it hadn't gone away at all.

Two weeks had passed and your father had invited his best friend Joel for dinner.

Sure, why not.

You were so nervous that it took you an hour and a half to choose what to wear, your mother had come to your room twice to see what the hell you were doing and why you hadn't gone down to the kitchen to help her yet.

Why the hell did you get yourself into that situation?

After all, blowing your savings in Europe was probably not such a bad idea, after all you are 22 and had the right to enjoy your holidays. Stupid conscience, by now you could have been in Spain or Italy or even France.

You ended up wearing denim shorts and a crop top. Pretty much what you usually wore, but you thought you saw Joel peeking at your thighs few days before and you obviously liked the idea.

When your mother saw you she didn't make any comment, she had never made a fuss about how you dressed. And she certainly didn't imagine that those skimpy denim shorts were there to get her husband's best friend to look at you, it didn't even cross her mind. You were above suspicion.

When you saw him enter the dining room followed by your father you almost lost your breath.

Why was he so damn attractive? You should have convinced yourself to forget about him but you hadn't. You had tried to do it that night too, until he mentioned that he wanted to join the gym and you almost interrupted him and said "you could come running with me."

You felt like you were watching yourself from the outside and if you could you would have slapped yourself. Why had such a bullshit come out of your mouth.

Fuck.

You actually knew very well why.

Joel looked at you with a surprised expression. “Are you sure?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course! Excuse me, you live across the street, is it possible that you’ve never seen me running? I’ve been doing this for years.”

“I never noticed, kid, honestly noticing your habits is not a priority in my life” Joel had replied nonchalantly.

Your father had laughed, covering his embarrassment.

Of course he knew. He had seen you scampering around the neighborhood in those skimpy shorts and that way-low-cut sports top. He had also wondered where the hell you had bought that stuff, didn't the good old tracksuits that covered everything exist anymore?

“Well, you could at least try. We’ll start with a short route. Just a few miles, do you think you can do it?” You replied, batting your eyelashes and looking at him with an angelic expression.

“Sure, kiddo, I sweat all day to earn a living,” he retorted defiantly. “Who do you think I am?”

“An old man” you said candidly.

This time even your mother, who was usually composed and cared more about education than anything else, giggled.

Joel looked at you with an ironic expression “ok, little girl, I'm in”

“Good, then I'll see you at 6 because it will be too hot later, I'll come and knock on your door” you replied mischievously.

“Pfff Do you think it’s a problem for me to wake up early? I’ve been waking up at 5 for decades”

“Sure, but tomorrow is Saturday”

Joel rolled his eyes and let out a sigh.

You had won, incredible.

Your father looked at him smiling and shrugged, “what can I say, I have a smart daughter”

Oh sure, you looked so pleased with yourself.

You hadn't won the war yet though.

————

The next morning you wake up at 5, get ready, put on the shortest shorts you could find, a sports top that reaches just below your breasts, and go out quietly so as not to wake your parents.

You knock on Joel's door at 6 o'clock sharp, imagining his expression when he saw you.

Joel opens the door with a cup of coffee in his hand “hey girl! do you want a cup of coffee?” he asks you with a seraphic expression painted on his face.

He would never give you the satisfaction of being caught unprepared.

“I’ve already had it at my house. Don’t try to postpone the inevitable Mr Miller.” he hates it when you call him that, it makes him feel old and you know it.

“When did you become so simpering? I need to have a chat with your father.” he smirks.

“Of course” you reply rolling your eyes “So are you ready or not? I won’t wait all morning.”

“I was born ready, little rascal, I'll take this to the kitchen and then we can go”

“K, I’ll wait here”

You drum your fingers on the door frame as you watch him walk away. “Tick tock, tick tock,” you taunt and he turns to glare at you as he walks past the kitchen threshold.

You have to admit, he looks pretty cute in shorts, in fact, who are you trying to fool… he has amazing legs.

And clearly, even if you never tell him, you think that he doesn't need anything and that the effort he puts into his job has already shaped him enough. This is just an excuse to spend time alone with him.

“Come on, let’s go,” he says, closing the door and putting his keys in his pocket. “Keep up with me, old man,” you say, smiling before stepping off his porch and running as fast as you can.

You hear him swearing behind you as he tries to catch up. After a hundred meters you see him coming up beside you and he’s out of breath “you did it on purpose”

“Of course” you giggle looking straight ahead.

“Can we slow down a bit now or were you planning on giving me a heart attack?”

“Okay, okay, I don't want you on my conscience, Mr Miller,” you start walking at a fast pace “we can do this for a while”

You turn to him and see his face all red and sweaty. “Damn, are you down already?”

“Not a chance, little girl. And stop calling me Mr. Miller, you know it gets on my nerves.” he grunts trying to catch his breath

“Yes I know, Mr Miller” you reply with a flirtatious tone and you know he didn’t miss it because he turns to you and looks at you and his eyes say “I’m going to make you regret this”

“So, why did you come back here this summer?”

“College is expensive and my parents already do enough for me, I’m trying to save as much as I can.”

“It’s a smart move and indeed very thoughtful” he admits

"See? I'm not as bad as you think” you say glaring at him while you keep the pace “While we’re on the subject, you might not call me kiddo, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Yeah, whatever, kiddo. I’m good now just in case you are interested”

“Ok, you asked for it” you say in a challenging tone and start running again as fast as you can.

“Hey!” He shout “you little cheeky thing!”

“Blame yourself for it, geriatric” you shout back.

Joel huffs and tries to run faster to catch up with you as you run away laughing.

He doesn't mind being behind though, he can see your ass bouncing hugged in those ridiculous shorts you've put on that barely cover your butt cheeks.

He’s not supposed to think certain things, but you've been mischievous since you got back.

He has noticed how you look at him and how you always try to argue with him, he is pretty sure that this is your way of flirting and he finds it quite funny.

And well… you're definitely cute, much cuter than he remembered.

He forced himself not to do anything because you are his best friend's daughter but you don't make it easy for him.

And now you’re here in those skimp shorts and that sports bra so small that your boobs look like they could pop out at any moment.

And the worst part is your attitude.

Fuck, you’re making a mess in his pants lately.

“Come on, old man, you can do it” oh you are so insolent in persisting in calling him old, he really should teach you a lesson.

He tries his hardest to reach you and you slow down, let him get a little closer and run away again.

“Jesus Christ” he cuss under his breath and try to run faster and you let him getting closer and then you sprint away again laughing and calling him a couch potato.

You keep going like this until he can finally reach you and he grab your wrist.

You turn to him “Hey! Let go of me!” you look like an angry kitten ready to scratch.

“Now we're taking a break,” Joel hisses.

“What the hell? There are still two miles to go”

“I SAID. We’re taking a break. Now”

“Okay, lazybones, whatever you want, don't get too nervous”

Joel is looking mad, which is so dumb, you were just kidding and he should know it.

It turns you on to see him like this though, you have to admit it.

“How about you let go of my wrist for starters?”

He lets go and looks at you askance.

He's drenched, little drops of sweat slide down the column of his neck, his black, soaked curls are plastered to his forehead, his damp t-shirt lets you glimpse the shape of his nipples.

God, he’s gorgeous.

His labored breathing sounds like a hoarse roar as he tells you, “I know what you’re trying to do.”

Yeah, you shouldn't be so horny for Joel but you can't help it.

“I’m doing nothing” you shout

“Don’t scream” his voice is low but nark.

He looks around, you are near the park and there is no one else.

Apparently you are the only ones who had the crazy idea of running at 6 on Saturday morning.

He grabs your arm and drags you inside, you try to resist “Joel!” but you don’t really want to. He stops behind a tree and pushes you against it.

“You’re trying to do nothing, huh? You haven't been trying to tease me since you got here, have you?“

“No” you say, but you're so delighted that he noticed.

“So at the Geller party last week you didn’t intentionally drop your glass in front of me and bend over to pick it up so I could see your panties, right?”

“I dropped a glass, that's all,” you coo.

“And not even the day you stood naked in front of your bedroom window? You knew I was in the garden, you saw me“

“I was in my room and I had just showered. It's not my fault that you are a voyeur”

“Sure. And the other day when I met you and your father at the cafe and you were eating ice cream? Even then you weren’t trying to do anything?”

Oh. He noticed that too.

Yep, you were busy with that spoon. Pretty cliché of you, you felt so silly.

But apparently it worked.

“It's you who sees mischief where there’s nothing”

“Oh sure, I imagined it” he hiss

You feel the bark stinging your back as he presses you against it, his arms at either side of you stretched out against the tree.

You could duck and run away if you wanted to. The point is, you don't want to.

“And tell me, what did you think you were going to do with these shorts and this top?”

“I was thinking of running” you shrug, and you look at him batting your eyelashes.

He snorts, “You’re such a brat”

You raise your chin slightly, resting your head against the tree “So what?” you ask defiantly “What do you want to do, you moldy old rag, punish me?”

He presses you even more against the tree, staying an inch from your face. You can feel his breath blowing on your skin.

“This attitude will not bring you anything good”

“oooh how scary”you whisper, looking him straight in the eyes.

He licks his lips “Is this what you want?”

“Yes”

His mouth is crushing on yours in a second, his tongue forces your lips and slips inside licking you hungrily and leaving you breathless, his beard scratching your skin.

You grab his cock through his shorts squeezing it and you can feel it’s already hard.

He pulls off and hiss “Fuck, baby, you don’t waste time”

“Yes, I never liked wasting my time” you purr

He takes your hand and raises your arm, pinning it against the tree. “And you think you deserve that?” he asks you authoritatively.

“What the fuck. Of course I do”

“I don’t think so. Here's what you're going to do now. You're going to shut your mouth and do what I tell you to do.”

“No” you hiss

“Oh you will, brat, if you want my dick”

“Fuck”

He looks around again to make sure there is no one in the park. “Kneel down.”

“On the ground?” you raise your eyebrow

“Yeah, on the ground princess. Kneel”

“But I-”

“KNEEL. Fuck, don't make me raise my voice, someone might hear”

You kneel in front of him and he pulls down his shorts just enough to pull his cock out.

It's huge.

You swallow, wondering how you're going to fit it in your mouth.

“Open” he orders

“It won’t fit” you’re suddenly intimidated.

“It will fit, darling, open wide”

“But Joel…”

“Open. Wide.”

You open your mouth as wide as you can and wait. He spit in his hand and strokes himself a couple of times and then starts to slide it into your mouth, onto your tongue.

Your gag reflex almost gets the better of you when you feel it hit the back of your throat.

His salty, musky flavor is all over your mouth.

Luckily you manage to hold back and look up at him “Just like that, honey. See how much easier it is when you stop being a brat?”

He grabs your ponytail and starts moving your head up and down its length, the ground scrapes your knees, you try to breathe through your nose but you're still tired from the run and it's not like Joel has given you so much time to recover.

You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing but Joel immediately scolds you “eyes on me” and he tugs on your hair.

You grunt and in response he starts fucking your mouth again harder than before.

“Do as I say or your pussy won't even get touched today.”

And you stupidly think “well, I can do it myself” and you bring one hand up your shorts, right above your clit.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you immediately hear him say as he takes his cock out of your mouth.

His hand is still tight on your ponytail, he pulls your head and slaps his cock on your cheek.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

“Yes” you murmur

“A little bit louder, babe. I can’t hear you”

“Yes” you repeat.

“You don't have an ending until I say so, you understand?”

“Yes”

“Good. Stick out your tongue for me, baby”

And you do. You want it too much.

He goes back into your mouth and starts rutting into it savagely.

You feel tears stinging your eyes and the ground is now unbearable under your knees but you don't protest anymore, his big fat cock throbbing between your lips and its veins sliding on your tongue are too delicious to do without.

You feel your panties getting soaked.

You look into his eyes again and you can see a pleased expression painted all over his face.

It's so infuriating and rousing at the same time.

Fuck, Joel Miller.

You don't even know how long he keeps fucking your mouth, you’re totally cock drunk at this point.

His orgasm takes you by surprise, you feel his seed invade your mouth and drip down your chin.

He finally pulls back and smear his seed all over your lips with his thumb.

He forces your lips with his finger “lick it clean, babe”

And you do, like a kitten starved.

“Such a good girl” and his little praise goes straight to your clit.

He finally gets you off the ground and he puts his cock back in his pants.

You look down at your knees, they’re full of grass and dirt, you brush them off with the back of your hand and they hurt. Great. You already know you’re going to get bruises.

“What are you going to tell your parents?”

“That I gave you a blowjob in the park after running. What do you think? Jesus, I'll pretend that I fell to the ground like an idiot" and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, bratty little thing” Joel smirk defiantly.

You sit up and lean back against the tree. You tug on his shirt, pulling him closer to you. “So are you going to fuck me or are you too old to come twice in a row?”

He doesn't even answer, he takes your wrists and holds them still against the tree with one hand, while he slips the other one past the elastic of your shorts and into your panties.

His thick, calloused fingers slide over your folds “You’re already soaking wet” and without warning he slides his index and middle fingers into your hole while his thumb presses on your clit.

You gasp so hard and he just says “God, you’re so tight, babe” and he starts curling them up into you “How does it feel?”

“Good” you whisper “so good, Joel, I feel so full”

“Yeah baby, that’s what daddy’s fingers are made for, to fill your pussy well” his scent mixed with sweat pervades your nostrils, he lowers his face to your neck and bites your skin while he doesn't stop moving inside you.

“Fuck” you hiss. You're intoxicated by him, your head is spinning “fuck, don’t stop, please”

“You drive me insane, you know that?”

And it’s absolutely true.

Joel shouldn't say this, but you've been stuck in his head like a nail since the day you got back and you won't leave him alone.

And now that he has let go of the leash of his inhibitions, it seems impossible to stop. He no longer knows how many times he has stopped to look at you, completely sucked in, his eyes glued to the curve of your ass or the roundness of your breasts, your nipples that peeked out from the fabric of your shirt.

And he managed to remain quiet anyway, until you pushed yourself to the limit by suggesting to go for a run together. And now he's even more fucked, because he's realized that feeling your mouth wrapped around his cock, your body on his, your tits pressed against his chest and your pussy opening up to his fingers is enrapturing.

And your shitty attitude actually makes him hornier.

“Fuck” he says in a hushed tone “Gosh, babe, you’re so pretty like that, all worked up over my fingers.”

“It feels so good, Joel, so good” you whine and you can hear you heart pounding in your chest so hard, he’s tormenting you as he slowly moves his fingers in and out of you “More, I want more”

“Ask nicely” his voice is firm

You look him in the eyes and you wonder why he can't be satisfied with your gaze, you're sure it’s eloquent enough at this moment.

“Please, Joel”

“What do you want, honey?”

“Your cock”

It’s incredible that you’re doing this in this park, you’re begging him to fuck you here.

In an hour at most it’ll start to fill up with people, probably even some of your neighbors who have known you forever. “Manners, babe” He bites one of your nipple through your sports bra and sucks greedily, wetting the fabric.

“Your cock - ah - please”

He lets go of your wrists and his hand comes out of your underwear, your pussy aching for a release.

He pulls down your shorts and frees his cock again, he puts your panties aside and takes his cock in his hand “spit” he orders you.

You look at him for a moment without understanding, dazed at the idea of having to take his massive cock in your cunt, which is what you asked for.

He snaps his fingers in front of your eyes “wake up honey. spit on it” he repeats.

You gather some saliva in your mouth and then let it drip from your lips, letting it fall onto his cock.

“Good girl. You'd be even better if you didn't make me repeat things twice, we need to work on this”

He pushes you back against the tree and slides inside you in one go and yes, you are dripping but his intrusion still rocks you for a moment.

It burns.

He stands still and looks you in the eyes “listen, we don’t have much time princess, don’t pout like that”

“Asshole” you say under breath.

He slaps you “watch your mouth, pretty thing”

Your cheek burns and yet you’re never been so aroused by anyone before.

“Fuck. Just… fuck me, please. Please, Joel”

He grabs your ass cheeks and starts moving inside you. You try to stifle your moans but one escapes your lips “God! Please Joel, please”

“Shut up. I wish I could stuff your panties in your mouth, brat” He silences you with a kiss while you think you wish he could.

And you're so delusional that you think "next time."

He licks into your mouth while he’s pumping into you, hitting your cervix just right, again and again.

And you’re almost there.

He pulls away from your mouth to catch his breath “Joel - I think - I think I’m coming”

He’s still pumping, faster and harder.

You hold onto his shoulders and clench your fists into his shirt “Joel I’m - ah- coming”

“Yes I feel it, I feel your pussy squeezing me, you’re doing it so good, so good for me, baby.”

“Joel” you're begging him, you're so close that you feel like you've lost your mind “Joel, please”

“Come for me, baby” he finally says against your skin “come hard for me”

You’ve been waiting for his permission and now that he's given it to you you feel your whole body shudder as a devastating orgasm washes all over you.

You're quivering against his broad chest, digging your nails into his shirt, trying to moan as little as possible to avoid making yourself heard.

He holds you tight as your legs shake.

He's still inside you and starts pumping harder after giving you time to calm down a bit "where do you want me to come?" "Inside" you whisper

"Fuck, baby, seriously?"

"Yes, I'm on the pill, please Joel, please fill me up"

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, oh my god, please give it to me”

“Yeah, you want it, huh? You want my cum dripping down your legs, huh?

You nod “yes, please, please Joel”

And he explodes inside you an instant later, you feel thick sticky streaks of his seed painting your walls and he’s grunting so hard.

He takes it off you and puts it back in his pants, you fix your panties and shorts as best you can and you already feel it dripping between your thighs and it's a sensation that drives you crazy.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous like that, all sweaty and hot for me”

You smile at him, actually grateful “it was amazing”

“Come on, let's get out of here before anyone sees us”

As soon as he finishes saying this, you see a man with a dog on a leash pass by on the other side of the park.

FUCK.

You run away as fast as you can and once outside Joel stops on the sidewalk, bending over and putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Fuck, do you think he saw us?”

“No, I don’t think so. But you know what? I don’t care.”

“You’re such a bad girl.”

Maybe you do, but you really don’t care, you’re too happy.

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