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rainydayathogwarts · 4 months ago

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Off limits - Remus Lupin

summary: remus can't help but liking the one person who's off limits, but it seems like they him too. find pt2 idk what my problem is with remus and any marauder sibling reader but it seems to be a recurring theme on this blog. wc: 1.8k+

The soft click of your heels on the ground is drowned by your laughs. You and Narcissa walk down the hallway, arms linked together, neither of you in any rush to make it to your next class in time. Remus can’t help but stare at you from where he and the marauders are jammed in a corner, plotting their next prank on Professor Binns in an attempt to make his lessons a little more interesting. Sirius follows his line of vision and says “Oh they think they’re so much better than the rest of us, these two.” He huffs, adding in a mocking, and slightly envious tone “The perfect Black cousins. Married by twenty and successful without working a day in their lives.”

Right. There was the fact that you were Sirius’s sister that always managed to slightly influence his opinions of you. Similarly to Sirius, you had an inexplicable elegance to you, with your head held high and an ego that was excused by your intelligence.

Remus sighed, watching as you disappeared behind the corner of the hallway, a last flash of your smile catching his eye before he lost sight of you. “Right.” He scoffed, turning his gaze towards Sirius. He internally cringed. There was nothing Remus could say or do that would ever make Sirius forgive him for liking his ever-praised sister, so he kept his thought to himself. Call it the halo effect, but Remus was convinced that you were a good person, despite being a Slytherin who seemed to get along with her evil parents. James clapped Remus on the shoulder as he got up, a sign of the boys leaving to their classes.

When Remus slipped through the door to the potions classroom, his eyes instantly landed on you and the empty seat beside you. His seat. Wordlessly, he sat by you, just in time for Slughorn to enter the room. Your posture made Remus insecure of his own, instantly straightening his back and catching view of your legs swinging slowly underneath the tall stool. Slughorn’s boring drawl nearly lulled him to sleep, and he was ecstatic to find that you shared the same opinion, opening your notebook and quill to begin scrawling words over a blank page. Remus looked over your shoulder, watching as you took your time to write neat letters that formed the phrase 'Could not care less what sluggy has to say.' Remus didn’t care that anyone could tell he was reading your note to Narcissa, an amused smile forming on his face.

Narcissa returned your notebook with a short new sentence added to it. 'Sameee. Hogsmeade after?' Shutting your notebook, you nodded curtly at your cousin, sighing silently. He understood where Sirius was coming from. You and Narcissa didn’t only share your perfect reputation within the pureblood community, but around Hogwarts too. When Slughorn passed around your graded papers, he even smiled at you, and Remus couldn’t even be angry at the favouritism because he knew he felt the same. The ‘Outstanding!’ on your paper shone in red ink that could be seen from the other side of the room. Remus wasn’t surprised when he saw the matching grade his paper held, but it seemed impressive when you did it.

You glanced at your neighbour’s paper, angling your head slightly and shooting Remus a smile in congratulations. Remus gulped, feeling his heart beat particularly hard in his chest, and he was barely able to return a grimace before you turned away. Shit, Sirius would hate him right now.

At Hogsmeade, you and Narcissa giggled over a butterbeer about your crush on the forbidden boy, your cheeks gaining heat with every passing thought about him. “He’s Sirius’s best friend, he's off limits.” Narcissa shrugged her shoulders at you, mumbling something incoherent into the rim of her butterbeer. “And even so!” You started again, “Salazar knows Sirius has probably spoken so badly about me to him that he wouldn’t be able to look at me that way.” Narcissa’s eyes widened in front of you, and you spun in your seat to see what she was staring at. There he was, in full glory, walking into the Three Broomsticks on a Wednesday afternoon, Remus Lupin. “Coincidence? I think not.” Your cousin whispered to you, watching in amusement at the way you fixed your posture and hair in a quick second before shooting Remus a smile from where you sat.

Sirius squinted at you from the entryway of the pub, facing his best friend and asking “Why the hell is my sister smiling at you?” Remus made a noise, shrugging his shoulders in mock cluelessness. “What is she up to?” Sirius added, glaring at you when you waved at him with a smile. Whether it was genuine or not, it didn’t matter; Sirius would forever hate you for abiding by your parents’ rules.

You faced Narcissa once more, muttering “Did they look away yet?” And waiting for the nod of her head, eyes trained on Sirius as he walked to the bar, returning his unforgiving stare. You slumped against the table with a groan. “See what I mean?” The unsure hum from in front of you had your head snapping up once more, raising your eyebrows at the blonde woman. “What does that mean?” Narcissa cocked her head to the side, a grin forming on her face. “You think tall Mr. Lupin can’t see what you’re writing down in class? He’s definitely the one who suggested coming here.” When you shot Narcissa an unimpressed look, she added in a sing-song voice “Because he likes you!” You rolled your eyes, leaning on your arms again. “Don’t feed into my delusions.”

You and Narcissa stood up in unison, making a beeline for the pub’s exit when you came face to face with your brother. He and his friends were all carrying a bottle of the famous drink. A quick in and out of the cozy pub. Sirius didn’t tear his gaze off you for a single second as you scanned the group of people he was with, and finally, you said “What, are you stalking me or something?”

Your brother sneered at you, and the expression on his face instantly sent a painful pang to your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself. We wouldn’t be here if Remus didn’t suggest a trip down here.” Narcissa’s pleasantly surprised giggle communicated all the emotions you felt in that moment, and you let a smile creep up your face at the revelation, glancing at the boy stood next to your brother. His cheeks had turned rosy: he knew that you knew what he did. Your brother didn’t seem happy with the look on your face, and especially not with the next sentence that came out of your mouth. “Yeah? Well, I’ll see you around Lupin.” You winked at the chestnut haired boy before spinning on the balls of your feet and walking out into the fresh air with Narcissa on your heels. There was no need to witness the interaction that took place behind you to know that Sirius was angry, pointing an accusatory finger at Remus as he questioned him about your relationship, or lack thereof. “Don’t fall for her tricks Remus, she’s just trying to get to me!” Sirius had stressed after Remus had assured him that he had no idea what you meant. What Sirius didn’t notice was the way Remus’s face had fell at his comment, all hope of your potential feelings towards him falling apart.

‘Well, I’ll see you around Lupin’ Your melodic voice echoed through Remus’s mind as he followed Sirius and James, a few steps behind the pair whilst thinking of the smile you had shot him. The same sentence resonated in Remus’s mind as he laid in bed that same night, causing him to toss and turn within the confines of his four-poster bed, tightly shutting his eyes in a weak attempt to eliminate your siren song from restlessly repeated itself. Remus groaned, sitting up in bed and shoving the curtain of his bed open, sliding his feet into warm slippers at the bottom of his bed, letting his legs guide him down the the staircase and out of the common room, into the darkness of the deserted hallways oh Hogwarts. It wasn’t long until Remus found himself in uncharted territory, that of which he only visited when attending his potions lessons. Remus cursed himself out, spinning around in the vast hallways. He barely recognised this side of Hogwarts in the dead of night.

An amused hum had Remus reeling around towards the sound, a scared expression on his face. He should have just tried harder to sleep, tried harder to ignore your captivating song, dragging him to an unknown side of the castle. Your laugh resonated in the hallway, and Remus turned once more, this time stopping to find himself face to face with you. Remus gulped harshly, eyes locked with yours from where you hunted him like a prey from the other end of the hallway. “Remus Lupin. In the land of the enemy.” Remus’s mouth dropped open with an inaudible gasp as he took in your nighttime attire. Your joggers and tank top paired with your bare face and animal themed slippers contrasted widely with your regular appearance, though you didn’t seem to care what you looked like in front of your brother’s best friend. Your hands were crossed over your chest, a genuine smile on your face at the sight of the tired boy. Silently, the boy walked towards you, stopping only when he was a couple of feet from you.

“Mr. Lupin. Or should I call you my secret admirer?” Remus blinked slowly, and for a moment you feared that he would fall asleep on the spot, but with a slow rub of his fists against his eyes, Remus mumbled shyly “I didn’t know it was that obvious.” You stepped forward, reaching out to grasp Remus’s jumper, the soft fabric lacing between your fingers, and you tugged softly, pulling him closer to you until your chests touched. “Kiss me Remus.” You begged, hand closing into a fist on his jumper. With his hands trailing to your hips, Remus fulfilled your request, leaning down to press his chapped lips against your soft ones. With a quiet moan of satisfaction, you brought your second hand up to grip his jumper, trying to use your grip to pull him closer to you. Remus broke the kiss with a sigh, leaning his forehead against yours with his eyes shut, a mix of his joy and sleepiness.

You brought your hands to the nape of Remus’s neck, playing with his short hair and sending a shiver down his spine.

“Remus?” You asked, and Remus replied with a noise of acknowledgment. “Remus?” Remus furrowed his eyebrows, eyes shooting open just as he heard a last call of his name. “Remus!” The boy gasped, sitting up straight only to find himself in his bed, a frustrated Sirius standing on the side of his bed, mumbling something about being late to class. The sun shot beautiful golden rays into the room, a reminder of the new day that had come. Tiredly, Remus thought ‘Why did it have to be this sibling I woke up next to?’

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caitlynsrighteye · 2 months ago

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Our Secret

G!P Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader

Heir to the high social status name, Kiramman, should only be paired within the same class standard. Yet, she's fallen for (reader), a girl that is, let's say, not upper class.

Contains: Modern AU, fluff, smut with plot, secret relationship, basketball!G!P!Caitlyn wlw, fem!reader, cunnilingus, couch sex, car sex, almost getting caught, characters are 18+, in 4th year high school (old enough to fuck, but young enough for parents to still have control of their lives lol)

wc: 3.5k

Masterlist Part 2

Born into generational wealth with high status due to her parents' success in business and entrepreneurship. Caitlyn is expected to live up to the same fate, whether it's from her own success or married into another rich family.

That is what Caitlyn planned in order to please her parents.

Until her eyes landed upon you. Beautiful, nonchalant. The sway of your hips as you roam the halls of Piltover High. You were simply walking to your next class before the bell rang, but to Caitlyn, why did time seem too slow when her gaze averted to you?

You, on the other hand, did not bat an eye or spare a second glance. You paid no attention to snotty rich athletes. Especially one as popular as the navy-haired girl. Whom always seemed to have a new girl wrapped around her slim finger every week. She wasn't just the school's top basketball player she WAS a player, and you had no interest in being used.

She noticed you around more. During the passing period, the library, even sitting in the stands as you watch her team, play on the court.

Vi, your best friend. Practically grew up with each other along her sister and brothers. The redhead was also on that team you were cheering for. The game was going well with Piltover in the lead. Each shot Caitlyn took, she always looked your way to make sure you were watching (show-off) and surprisingly didn't miss a single one, like you were her goodluck charm (or maybe just being a try hard to impress you).

The team of Piltover Blue jerseys ran onto the other teams side, ready to score again. Vi passed up all opponent team players, dribbling the ball with skilled precision, ready to pass to Caitlyn. The tall athlete was ready for the pass, yet subconsciously glanced your way, and the ball being passed to her hit her straight in the head. The impact created an embarrassingly loud boing sound. While you watched too.

After the game, Caitlyn walked out of the lockerroom, icepack in hand was placed on her black swollen left eye. She saw you talking with your strong built friend. Before Caitlyn could walk away and sulk, Vi looked over her shoulder and called the girl over.

"Oye! Super star, come over here," said Vi. The blue-eyed player sighed and turned around slowly before walking in your direction. Her face was flushed. Not a clue if it was from the recent game or the embarrassment of you looking at her in her current state.

"We won, but at what cost?" The redhead laughed, patting Caitlyn on the shoulder. Caitlyn usually had this confident demeanor in her stance, but now her back was slightly slouched, and the hand that wasn't holding onto the icepack was cluthing onto one of her backpack straps.

"There was something in my eye, wasn't ready to- " she was interrupted by vi, "Yeah sure, Cupcake," Caitlyn scoffed at the nickname. Violet's phone dings as she gets a text message. "Oh, Powder's waiting for me in the car, gotta go, see ya later, pirate," she says, teasing Caitlyn. She nods in your direction as a fair well, leaving you and the tall player alone.

All was silent until you broke it. "Don't mind Vi, are you alright?" You chuckle in between your sentences. Her gaze leaves the floor where she is staring down at her untied laces. "Yeah, totally. T'is no big deal, didn't even hurt," she tried to play it off, even knowing that her eye throbbed against the coolness of the bag.

Looking back, you never actually talked to the girl, nor did you know that she had an accent. It was quite cute if you were being completely honest.

"So, uh, nice to meet you... cupcake?" She sighed before speaking. "You can just call me Caitlyn, please," you bit your lip, surpressing a laugh, ready to burst out.

"Alright, Caitlyn," the sound of her name rolling off your tongue sent butterflies to her stomach. "I'm Y/n-".

"We had bio together 2nd year," she blurted out, unaware of how she just happened to remember that in that moment. You stared at her with wide eyes as she let go of her bag strap to scratch behind her neck that didn't even itch, tugging on the small hairs that couldn't be pulled into a ponytail.

She stood there even more embarrassed. Where did all this awkwardness come from. It was usually so easy for her to talk to girls, but something about you made her knees buckle and stomach turn.

There was some small talk between the two of you before you realized it was getting late and you're still standing in the halls of the school. Caitlyn offered to walk you back to your car, and you obliged in appreciation.

For the next few weeks, the only messages Caitlyn waits and picks up for are yours. The both of you had grown fond of each other. Hanging out, at first, it was with Vi, but soon ended up with just the two of you alone. She would walk you to your classes, not bothering about the time she had left for passing period. Jogging towards your spot in the bleachers after games.

All the girls she was once in contact with were blocked on her phone. She only had eyes for you.

Months pass, and you finally give in to her flirtatious gestures. One study night at her place, you both laid on her queen sized bed. Your backpacks are sitting on the floor of her bed, binders and papers cover the end of her matress as you both were making out on her freshly cleaned sheets. Legs tangled with each other as you and her laid on your sides. Your arms around her neck as she has one hand behind your head, pulling you impossibly close, and her other roaming the curves of your side. You were both lost in each others grasp.

For so long, she dreamt of finally being able to touch you as she palmed herself late at night in her bed. And here you were, tongues exploring each others mouths, saliva strings connecting your lips to her plump ones.

So lost in each other that you almost missed the knock at her bedroom doors. The handle turned, and the door creaked open. You both pushed off each other. Your push was accidentally too aggressive as she fell off the side of her bed with a thud. The bed was angled enough from the door so that when Caitlyn's mom, Cassandra, entered the room, the blue-haired girl was out of sight.

"Hello, Y/n, do you happen to know where Caitlyn had gone off to?" Her poor mother, so polite. You are sat up on her comforter with homework placed in front of your lap. "She's in the restroom, Mrs. Kiramman," you say, hiding the fact that you're out of breath and your face is bright red like a tomato. "So, I see. When she comes back, please let her know to come to my office for a moment," The older woman closes the door behind her after you say, "Of course, maam".

After a long minute of waiting for her mother to leave down the hall, you crawl to the side of the bed and see Caitlyn on her back with her arm slung over her face, holding back a silent laugh. You both begin to laugh as you asked, "Are you okay?" You grab her arm to remove it from her beautifully sculpted features. Her deep blue eyes meet yours, and you're mesmerized. "I'm alright, thank you," she sits up, and before you can say another word, she pulls you from the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss.

Soon after, she takes you out and asks you to be her girlfriend, but with a boundary of keeping it a secret. The more people are aware of the newfound relationship, the more likely her parents would find out. It didn't bother you to the core, but it was different.

As if luck wasn't on your side, her parents almost always managed to catch you both barely while you work at each others bodies.

One evening, she invited you over for a movie night, and the next thing you know, you're pushed deep into the plush couch of her living room with your thighs squeezing around her head tightly, as she's kneeled on the floor with your fingers tangled into her luscious navy blue hair and your other hand gripping the cushions behind you. The Kiramman heir is talented with her tongue. Swiping up long stripes from your entrance to your aching clit. The sounds were lewd, wet and loud, of her ravaging your pussy that needed her mouth so badly. You've ever felt such ecstacy before meeting her. Feels as if the moment you two began being intimate with each other, she knew where to please you and knew what would feel good.

Your irises rolled back, and your toes clung to the fabric of her shirt. Your moans were like music to her ears, wishing she could have you like this always. Both her hands grabbed at your flesh. One giving special attention to the mounds of fat on your chest and the other thrusting two fingers into your pulsing heat, curling them at a certain angle that drove you over the edge.

The air felt hot and heavy. Caitlyn's dick was out free and soaked in your spit from your ealier oral attention, her tip rubbing against the cloth of the couch. She humped against it, creating friction she needed. All was well till you saw silhouettes of a man and woman outside the window curtains near the front door.

Through broken moans you panick, "Ah- Fuck... Cait," you tug her hair and she looks at you confused before turning to the door. She quickly, but carefully picks you up off the couch. As soon as your feet hit the cold floor, you felt like jelly. Bad timing for Caitlyn to take your ability to walk. She brought you over to a nearby closet filled with hanging jackets and shelves of shoes and shoved your clothes into your arms before giving you a quick peck to your lips.

She practically jumped into her sweatpants and tucked her spit-slicked cock into the waistband to hide her hardened length. Her parents' keys could be heard as it worked to open the large door. When the noble couple stepped inside, their daughter sat on the couch watching where you and her left off on the movie.

"Hello, Caitlyn," her mother greets. Her father was about to say the same before he sniffed the air and tugged to loosen the business tie around his neck. "Darling, what is that smell?" He says, looking around the room. Caitlyn, with a nonchalant look to her face while she lights a candle on the side table next to the couch. "Im not sure," Sweat threatened to slide down her temple. Her blue eyes darted to the closet door that you hid in. Mr. Kiramman walked in your direction to put his coat away. She never stood so fast in her life she thought she'd pass out. Walking over to her father, she guides him to a small table where she had put the mail. "Dad, I saw this envelope from earlier, looks important," she put the pile of mail in his hands. "Oh well, thank you, Caitlyn," he says before heading towards his office where his wife followed after him.

"Phew," she sighed, hurrying towards your hiding spot where you had your hand covering your mouth to shield your heavy breaths. She opened the sliding doors to your shocked state, worried that you had been caught. You were still naked, legs shaking with arousal dripping down your skin. She gently caresses your cheek, comforting a soft smile from your lips. You take her hand as she helps you out of the closet, bringing you to the closest bathroom where she had you sit on the counter and helped you back into your clothes. Unfortunately, you both blue balled that night.

There was one place where Mr and Mrs. Kiramman couldn't catch you and your super hot girlfriend, the backseat of her car in a dark empty parking lot being lit by the tall light polls. Being the offspring of two rich, important people, she drove a huge murdered out cadillac escalade. The windows were tinted, and the interior was expensive leather. The backseat was large enough and had room for you both to lay.

The sun had gone down a few hours ago. Caitlyn had taken you out to a nice dinner after her team had won a basketball championship while being mvp on the court. The gym was filled in cheers from the crowd, and her teammates shouted in victory. Vi ran up to Cait and lifted her off her feet to congratulate the star of the game. The restaurant was dimly lit by glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and candles placed on tables. The navy-haired woman was cleaned up, wearing a black pant suit with her hair down resting on her broad shoulders.

As you sat down, she wanted to be extra fancy by ordering wine, but she got ID'd for not being 21 by the waiter (buzz kill). She was romantic and knew how to bring your face to a bright red. Knew how to make you laugh and overall make you want to bend over for her. Dinner was good, yet unbearable with the ache between your legs. The two of you basically hurried out of there, almost forgetting to pay.

Now, here you are, both sat in the backseat, straddling her bare lap as you bounced on her hardened cock. Your bodies fully exposed to each other with goosebumps along your skin. Hands on her shoulders, as hers gripped your hips with bruising strength. Your lips were attached to her neck, sucking and biting the flesh, turning it purple. Her head was thrown back on the seat with her eyes closed tightly. You watched in awe how undone you've made her. Her face wincing from the squeezing pleasure you've given her. Causing you to gain the stamina to bounce harder on her.

Caitlyn was lost in the deep red sea of your pussy as you tightened around her shaft. Each bounce stroked her from tip to hilt repeatedly. Her cock was so deep inside, it kissed your cervix painfully, your clit making contact with her pelvis as you landed.

The windows were completely fogged over, with handprints scattering its area. Her car rocked with each movement. Both your moans overcame the music playing on the bluetooth. The claps of your skin colliding with hers rang in your ears.

"Ha- fuck," you moaned. Caitlyn was not paying attention. Her head was still thrown back as she just sat there enjoying as you rode her. You took one of your hands from her shoulders to tug at her ponytail, bringing her face towards yours. Her eyelids drooped, looking fucked out and exhausted. She crashes her lips onto yours, kissing you hard. The kiss was messy, and your tongues danced together. Saliva strings connecting you both together.

Your movements began to slow as you grew tired. As if energy was transferred over, her kiss became brutal. Tongue dominating yours to explore the inside of your mouth. Her body leaned into you to get closer. If getting closer was even possible at this point. She pulled away from the kiss to watch as your body moved.

Grinding down on her, her erection rubbed against your sweet spot deliciously. Her sapphire eyes stared onto your perfectly round boobs, taking one nipple into her mouth sucking it hard like a hungry babe. "Fuck baby, you're so good," she said, mouth full of your chest mounds. The grip on your hips started to get rough as she helped you move, getting your body to continue bouncing. The sounds of your moans against her ear and your wet cunt swollowing her long cock whole was obscene. Straight out of a porno.

She had never felt this good before. Never with any other girl she's fucked for her own enjoyment made her feel the way she feels in this moment. Never had one of those girls made her fall head over heels. She was in love with you and wanted only you.

Her mouth left your boob with a pop. With the remaining strength and endurance she had left in her, she lifted you. Without pulling out of your cunt to pushed you down onto the center console. Your body getting stuck between the driver and passenger seat. With a shocked expression on your face, you watched her smirk stupidly before her hips took off. Pounding into you with such speed and force behind each thrust till her thighs burned from the awkward position. Your body moved upwards with each stroke she gave you, and you winced in pain when your skin skid along the leather seats. Your fingernails dug into her shoulders, creating scratch marks ready to bleed.

Your moans grew louder, and her balls slapped against your ass. You felt evey thick vein of her cock rubbing your inner walls. The head breaking through you made you feel like you'd be split into two. "Ahh Cait! You're gonna m-make me fucking cum," you lifted your head to watch her dick disappear within you. Your eyes almost rolled back at the sight of her thrusting into you. Her forhead slick with sweat, bottom lip between her teeth, her boobs bouncing with each pound of her hips onto yours. She gasped, close to her nut bust she watched her dick print on your lower tummy. It turned her on so much more. Her palms pressed down onto where she could see her dick going in and out of you, tickling your g-spot from the outside. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and your velvet walls clenched onto her girth. She moan in unison with you. "Shit so tight. Wanna cum in you," her jaw tensed as you were clamped down hard onto her.

"Fuck fuck Cait!" You screamed. Squeezing her member hard, her balls tightened. You squirted all over her. Your hot fluids coating her pelvis. White cum burst from her tip and into you. Her strokes were slower, riding out both your highs. Long and deep strokes. Your body shook from the intense orgasm. Her eyes were glued to you the whole time while she took control. She craved the faces you made while she fucked you into a mindless sack of flesh. Regaining consciousness from your high, your eyes locked to hers. She stood awkwardly over you, trying to catch her breath before pulling her sore cock out of you.

It's as if the whole world went silent, and you and her were at the center of it all. Your gaze lingered onto hers before following a bead of sweat down to her swollen glossy lips. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you pulled her in to taste the sweet padding of her lips. She sighed into it, feeling relaxed and loved within your grasp. Something she felt safe and vulnerable in.

The kiss broke, and she nuzzled her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sent of your perfume and sweat. She placed soft pecks to the hickeys on your neck. Kisses that lead up your jaw to your cheek, then reached your forhead. After one final peck to your hairline, she looked up to see the time on the dashboard screen.

She sighed, "It's 3am," she watched as your eyebrows rose and your forhead wrinkled. "Oh shit," you say. A smile widened across your face as you do your best not to giggle. Yet, failed once she began to laugh with you. It wasn't a hilarious laugh it was more comfortable and soft sounding. Like, 'Oh my gosh, we were so caught up in the moment we didn't realize how late it had gotten'.

"Mum and dad are going to kill me," she rested her forhead against yours. You chucked and said, "We'll come up with an excuse."

"I love you."

You stared into her eyes blankly. Surprised by the sudden confession. Her body lifted, just as shocked as you were before taking a deep breath to keep eye contact with you.

"I love you, Y/n," she said it more confidently. It's been months since you both began dating, and you've gotten to know each other for almost a year by now. Confessing love was bound to happen sooner or later.

Your expression relaxed, and a sly smile spread on your lips. "About time, cupcake," you teased. "Oh, you shut up," she laughed.

"I love you too, Caitlyn Kiramman"

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Note: IT IS SO HARD FOR ME TO WRITE SMUT BC I JS WANNA WRITE BACKGROUND AND PLOT TO ITTTT AHHHH!

Also ps: i keep seeing hcs of Caitlyn loving to have reader ride in cowgirl position... and never see it in fics like i eat up that hc sm ugh, need to save a horse so bad🧎🏻‍♀️

Thanks for reading♡ lemme know what you think :)

#arcane #caitlyn kiramman smut #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn x fem reader #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn x y/n #caitlyn x you

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giuseppe-yuki · 6 months ago

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money, money, money

normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader

w.c.: 6.8k

warnings: curse words, allusions to sex, RUDE people, sprinkle of angst (?)

summary: you introduce max to the good and bad sides of having money.

a/n: roughly inspired by crazy rich asians- one of my fav movies!!!

edit: bonus birthday oneshot :)

photo credits from pinterest :)

it was no secret to the majority of the world that your bloodline was rich- filthy rich. with your father’s side of the family owning the equivalent of half a small country and your mother’s side of the family the owners of several major corporations, you had no lack of paper bills in your bank accounts.

along with your siblings and your cousins, you grew up pampered, only going to your country’s best schools and wearing only the latest fashion. you were picked up by a chauffeur in a personal sleek black bentley and had a team of maids at your beck and call. hell, you were even granted access to a private jet in case you wanted to fly somewhere exotic just for fun!

as a child without a sense of the value of money, you thought all children lived like this. every birthday, you expected only the very best from your parents. on your sixth birthday, your parents closed down disneyland and let the kids rampage throughout the park. for your cousin’s grade school graduation, your aunt bought an entire cruise liner (company) and held a week-long party on the water to celebrate. when your little brother passed his driver’s license, your father bought him a customized ferrari pista (that he might have crashed three days in) as his first car. when christmas came by, your grandma flew in your entire family to her private island in first class, and surprised all the kids with their very own mini play homes in the backyard that were each the size of a small apartment.

slowly, as you matured, you realized how lucky you were. while eating the caviar and champagne at the expensive gala, the homeless were out in the cold, eating the leftover crusts in oily crumpled pizza boxes that they fished out of the trash. each dollar in your bank accounts could go to sick children whose parents couldn’t pay the hospital bills for, and instead, they were going to mega yachts that sat in the monaco bay most of the year. besides, wouldn’t your parents' money run out some time?

it seemed that many of your cousins and siblings didn’t give a fuck. you watched them exponentially abuse their power, blowing through thousands of grands for luxury cars they drove only once and exclusive rooftop parties where they swam in pools of champagne. one by one, you saw them drop out of school and spend every day as the life of the party. once they rapidly grew out of the excuse of being “young, naive, and not knowing better” their reputation to the general public became “spoiled and out-of-touch” with society.

you of course, weren’t totally exempt from this. you had to admit that you occasionally spent a few k on a nice little bag for yourself, or had an occasional trip to bali for some sun. however, you focused much more on your studies and helping others than partying. instead of spending your draining your mother’s company assets, wouldn’t it be better to have your own? why wield a black card embellished with your father’s name in gold when it could be your own name? with your own money, you could also donate huge amounts to people in need- all under your name.

slowly, you built up your own credible business using the knowledge you gained, and it soon skyrocketed into a world-wide profitable company.

even with such success however, all your siblings and cousins laughed at you. running a company? they had chuckled, in their balenciaga suits and miu miu dresses. why do such tedious work when you can just marry into a rich family?

rich family, you scoff, looking at one of your cousins at the yearly family party that your family threw. though she was dressed to the nines, hair done up and jewelry glistening on her neck, she looked absolutely miserable. her husband, that everyone knew she had just married “for the money” stood on the opposite end of the room, flirting unashamedly with a rather uncomfortable looking waiter. that was really funny, considering that your cousin had been bragging about how much her husband loved her at the last function. she had even shoved a picture of her next to a humongous flower bouquet into your face, teasingly stating how “you never had this experience before, huh?”

your brother wasn’t that much different. although he looked rather successful with a big quarter of your mother’s company stocks, you knew that he was in major debt from burning through his bank accounts gambling at casinos around the world. he paraded around the room with his wife, who hung on his arm so proudly, but only because she didn’t know a thing. if you hinted at your brother’s little “problem,” you knew that she would have the divorce papers ready by afternoon the next day.

as the party went on and the alcohol broke down the painstakingly-built facades of your family’s relationships, you began to stop envying their so-called perfect lives. you realized that all they knew about was money. what did they know about love?

love to you was a kind man with blue eyes that crinkled whenever he smiled at you, light brown hair that was oh-so-soft to run through with your hands, and a soothing voice with a twinge of an accent and slight lisp. love smelled like his soft cologne, and tasted like the spiced sweetbreads he would bake on the weekends.

max was the total opposite from the cocky and money-hungry douchebags from your home country that were more attracted to your wallet and family influence, which was what you liked about him. even the way you met him was different. usually, the men would make it all about themselves, trying to impress you with their “achievements” (owning three ferraris is not a keystone achievement, david) or throwing technical jargon at you to sound smart. if you somehow invited them on a second date, they always showed up late and would tear off their clothes the second they got in the house, expecting to get to third base immediately. however, you met max through a friend of a friend at a small party in monaco. he could barely look you in the eyes and stuttered through his sentences, which you found quite refreshing compared to the arrogant guys that you usually encountered. on your first date, he got you some rather wilty looking tulips, but also brought some homemade bread that you swore was the best you ever ate. on the second date, he yapped about all the flags of all the countries he knew, but you didn’t mind because he let you ramble your own interests after. before long, you moved in with him in his apartment on the edge of monaco, and had the honor of calling him your boyfriend.

so now, lying in his arms on his tiny bed, you felt more at home than ever.

the sunlight streams in through the windows above his bed, casting a glow across his face and filtering through his impossibly long eyelashes. you take a minute to admire the angelic scene, before one his cats leaps off of who-knows-where and jumps on his face.

he yelps, and unwinds his arm from around you to softly push who you assume to be sassy away from his head.

you flash a glare at sassy for ruining such a nice moment, before picking her up and attempt to “throw” her off the bed.

unfortunately, max yanks her out of your hands before you are able to.

“hey!” he says in a chastising tone. “be nice to sassy. i’m sure she didn’t mean to.”

max sits up on the bed and gives sassy a few head scratches before placing a kiss on her soft head. sassy meows at you, which you swear is in a mocking tone. across the room, jimmy sprints over and takes a spot next to max, purring for head scratches too, effectively pushing you off the bed.

you didn’t understand how your boyfriend couldn’t see that his cats were literally devils. you were basically subject to their abuse every day (i.e. random ankle attacks, knocking over all you fragile items, unplugging your devices, cat hair in your food, and the worst one, stealing max away from you). scowling, you surrender your rightful spot on the bed and pad into the kitchen in your slippers to start the coffee.

it’s not until both the coffee and breakfast is ready when max finally enters the kitchen, now freshly dressed. the cats scamper around his feet, curling lovingly around his ankles.

“sorry about that, baby.” he says, pulling out his chair and taking a seat in front of his plate of food. “jimmy and sassy just wanted some love.”

you roll your eyes before settling down into your own seat.

he spears a few sausage links and eggs into his mouth before glancing at the clock. eyes widening, he shoves the rest of the food into his mouth and chugs down the hot coffee.

“so sorry, i have to run!” he sputters out, “i’m going to be late to my engineering meeting!”

he dashes to the bedroom to grab his bag before running back into the kitchen to press a kiss to your cheek in goodbye.

“have fun at work too, baby!” he yells before the front door slams closed.

sighing, you finish your plate before washing the dishes in the sink. he was always late for his engineering job at a small office in downtown monaco. max somehow always got to his office in time though, but probably because he raced his little yellow renault clio rs on the streets like he was some type of formula one driver. meanwhile, you had your “work” at home (which typically meant one phone call to your secretary to make sure everything was running smoothly, a quick scroll through your company accounts, and then netflix on the couch).

from the time you met to the time you started dating, you never got to telling max about your family history or your job. it was actually kind of unbelievable that he didn’t notice actually, even when all your clothes were covertly designer and heels were always red bottoms, or when you seemingly traveled out of the country every other weekend for company meetings. however, he never asked, so you never told.

well, that was until he came home that night.

his footsteps echo on the ground as he walks out from the bathroom, but stops before he gets into the kitchen

“hey baby,” he says, tilting his head. “what’s this?”

you stop stirring the pasta sauce, looking back to see your freshly showered boyfriend questioningly glancing at your open macbook on the couch.

you must have forgotten to close out of your company bank account tab. quickly, you throw the spoon aside, slam the laptop shut, and throw it to the side.

“that’s nothing, baby.” you say, rushing back to the kitchen and stirring the bubbling red mixture again.

“oh-kay…” he says, walking up behind you and reaching over to help strain the pasta noodles.

while straining the water out in the sink, he flashes you a quick glance. “was it like…” he whispers quietly. “adult material or something?? is that why you didn’t want me to see it?”

what?

you look back him, an unimpressed look at your face. “adult material, max???” you repeat back at him. “no. i was not watching adult material on my work laptop.”

“okay, whatever you say, baby.” max says, clearly not believing you. clearing his throat, he continues. “so, um… anyways, my coworker george was talking about how he met his boyfriend alex's parents over the weekend, and i realized that i never met your parents before. do you think we can maybe pay them a visit?"

you freeze, halfway sliding out a plate of garlic bread from the oven.

“i- um, don’t think that’s wise, maxie.” you reply quietly.

your boyfriend wrinkles his brow. he stops the plating of the noodles and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“is it…is it because they are assholes?” he asks, looking at you seriously. “cause it’s okay if they are- i understand, because my dad…my dad is not very kind either.”

you can’t help to think about your family in your home country. you could never take your maxie there. they would rip him to shreds, degrading him for being rather plain and destitute compared to them. you would never want to put your boyfriend through your parents, either, who would probably criticize him for wanting to marry you just for the money, even if max didn’t know a goddamn thing about how you earned your funds.

you rub your face. “no, it’s not that.” you sigh, “i- mean- it’s just complicated over there in my home country. i don’t want you to feel pressure or uncomfortable-”

max cuts you off with a hug, and presses a kiss to your cheek. “i really don’t mind, baby. i’d really like to meet the people who made such a kind and beautiful person like you.”

you blush a little at his words. even if you have an uneasy feeling to your stomach, you nod lightly. it can’t be that bad, right?

if you were to take max over to your home country, there was no doubt he would be exposed to your massive fame and influence there. to slowly ease him into the more luxurious side of your life, you first introduce the luxuries of a private jet the day you take off from the airport.

“a private JET???” your boyfriend shrieks, looking at his speciality boarding pass.

hurriedly, you shush him to avoid the glares of other travelers within a yelling distance of you both.

“max, please be quiet.” you hiss into his ear. “yes, it says private jet.”

maneuvering your cart with your lv-branded luggage to the side of the terminal, along with max’s one small carry-on and two pet cages with the reincarnations of the devil inside, you pull out your phone to check the location of the driver who would take you to the separate private-jet entrance.

like magic, he materializes behind you, tapping you on the shoulder.

politely, he takes your horde of luggages and max’s items before politely gesturing towards a massive black lincoln that was definitely not parked there before.

“this way miss,” he says curtly, before reaching forward to open the car door for you.

max, snapping out of his confusion, snaps his hand out first and roughly yanks the door open, and nearly hitting both you and the driver.

“i’ll open the door for my own girlfriend, thanks!” he retorts, glaring suspiciously at the driver, who just shrugs and starts loading the luggage into the back of the car.

when max climbs into the spacious back of the lincoln, you can’t help but giggle into your hand.

“max, you need to relax,” you laugh, placing a calming hand on max’s leg. “he’s my driver. it’s his job to open the door, okay?”

your boyfriend sniffs, pouting a little.

“fine.”

after boarding the jet and ascending safely into the air, you settle into your padded chair. meanwhile, max runs around the jet like a little kid, pointing out the “special features,” much to the amusement of the staff.

“omg, baby, look!” he yells, pointing at a wooden-paneled door behind your chair. “the bathroom is huge!”

you nod, and hum in agreement, sparing a quick glance at max, who was opening and closing the door as if it would change what was behind it.

he then charges toward a cabinet near the middle of the plane, which is stuffed to the brim with your favorite snacks. “wow!” he shouts, before sprinting towards a similar cabinet further down, which you know is the alcohol storage area.

there’s a moment of silence before max steps into view with three gin and tonics and one of your favorite drinks in hand. he carefully sets them down in front of you, batting away a disgruntled-looking bartender who held a half-open bottle of gin that you assumed he was in the middle of pouring when max snatched the bottle away.

you apologize profusely to the bartender while max watches on, straight up chugging his drinks.

“this is wild!!” he whispers, pointing to the cups in front of him.

no more than five minutes after sending the bartender away with a little tip, max has already finished two of his three gin and tonics and was already bounding out of his seat to explore the rest of the plane.

once you hear his exclamations of joy from the back of the plane, you know he has discovered the master bedroom.

before you have a chance to take a sip of your own drink, max basically pounces on you and drags you towards the private bedroom. your boyfriend pushes you onto the soft bed, yells out the door.

“give us a little bit of privacy, okay?” he shouts to no one in particular, before slamming the door shut.

he turns back to your figure lying spread-eagle in the bed, and wiggles his eyebrows.

max is the first one to talk after you both lay on the bed, lips swollen and cheeks red.

“so…?” he says, running a hand down your back.

“so… what?” you ask, looking up at him from your position sprawled on top of him. from your point of view, you could feel the slight rise and fall of his chest, his slightly damp hair, and the way his blue, blue eyes study your face.

“so, when were you going to tell me that you were…like…rich?” he replies.

you maneuver yourself to a sitting position on your boyfriend’s lap, looking him nervously.

“well…” you remark, twiddling your thumbs. this wasn’t the way you thought you were going to break the news to max.

“i grew up more- comfortably in my home country, thanks to my family and their connections. i was lucky to not have to worry about money at all. when i became a little older, i separated myself from the rest of my siblings and cousins to form and take care of my own company. then, on a business trip, i met you and then.. yeah, you know what happens next.”

an awkward silence fills the room, with max digesting the information and you toying with a stray thread from the bedcovers.

your boyfriend opens his mouth slowly.

“a company?” he questions, turning to you. “what company?”

you scramble off the bed for your phone, and type something quick in the search bar. when you find what you are looking for, you rotate the phone towards your boyfriend, the glowing screen reflecting on his features.

it only takes one or two seconds for max to scan and decipher the words on the screen.

“YOU’RE THE CEO OF REDBULL??” max shouts.

when the wheels of your private jet hit the bumpy runway, it was midnight. your pilot’s voice crackles on the intercom, politely notifying you that you have arrived, and are free to disembark whenever you’d like. outside, you can see several workers unloading your luggage, along with jimmy and sassy in their pet carriers.

you turn to max, who was intensely staring at his screen, unmoving. you assume he was still in the middle of his fervent wikipedia dive of you and your family’s entire history that he insisted on learning, once he got over the initial shock.

“max,” you say, nudging him slightly.

he doesn’t budge, eyes trained like an eagle on his screen.

you pull on sweatshirt before nudging him again, this time a little harder. “max, come on, we gotta go.”

he snaps up, and pockets his phone before mock saluting you. “yes, of course, miss ceo! whatever you say!”

you roll your eyes. max was a little extra sometimes.

he trails behind you obediently as you climb down the stairs to get off the plane, and into a sleek black limousine.

before long, you find yourself on the familiar streets and freeways that you used to frequent when you were younger. it feels the slightest bit nostalgic, so different from the streets of monaco that you became used to thanks to max.

you look back to find max tilting his head at you.

“where to now, miss ceo?” he asks in a curious tone.

you smile.

”i know just the place.”

even when it was close to three am, the downtown streets were still packed with people. vendors engulfed the street sides, selling delicious soups and snacks beckoned to people, and little shops with bright signs advertised souvenirs, clothing, stationary, and everything in between. the car inches to a stop when you come upon a familiar old building that you remember visiting often as a child. bright glittery letters on the storefront and windows exclaim, “lombardi ice cream shop.” a line of people streams out the door, an ode to the delicious creamy treats that the shop has been selling for years. god, you could basically taste the ice cream on your tongue already.

you practically leap out of the car, dragging max with you towards the front of the shop. the red bottoms of your heels click against the concrete, turning many heads in the crowd along the sidewalk. you hear gasps of shock and a few whispers of your name along the crowd. they automatically parts like moses and the red sea when you get closer. max hesitates, wide eyed, at the edge of the crowd.

”c’mon,” you laugh, taking his hand and leading him through the people.

an old woman, back hunched with age, waddles out of the kitchen and greets you warmly when you arrive at the counter. without realizing, a warm feeling spreads across your chest. she was basically like a second mother to you, considering you spent your entire childhood frequenting this shop with your cousins and siblings. whenever you visited your home country, you would always make sure to pop by her shop (not that she needed your business- her lines always curled around the block, day and night).

“ahh!! welcome back, honey,” she exclaims, wiping her wrinkled hands on her apron. “you’ve gotten so beautiful!” throwing a glance at a shy max hesitantly hidden behind you, she sends you an eyebrow raise. “ah, and i see you brought a boy back huh?”

you reach over to give the weathered old woman a hug, blushing. “hello, momma lella! yes, this is my boyfriend max.”

max waves a polite hello, one hand still nervously holding yours.

the elderly woman smiles kindly at max, not hiding how she looks him up and down. “well, i approve!” she states, giving you a thumbs up and a wink. “polite and handsome!”

without another word, she grabs the largest size cup and fills it to the brim with creamy chocolate ice cream. sprinkling a good amount of sprinkles and shoving two spoons into the cup, she offers it to you.

“on the house!”

you and max sit on the sidewalk with the cup of ice cream, watching people walk by and cars zoom through the traffic. occasionally, max takes his spoon and shovels a large helping of chocolate ice cream into his mouth.

“you look like you’re really enjoying the ice cream,” you state, noticing the chocolate smeared over the corners of his mouth.

max just smiles at you in the way he always does, with the dimples and the crinkle in his eyes.

suddenly, your moment is ruined when a flash goes off in your face.

max jerks back, rubbing his eyes, not used to the invasive cameras that made up your childhood.

you whip around towards the flash, seeing a small herd of paparazzi smiling wickedly. a rare spotting of you in back in your home country for the first time in years? that was payday for them. a flash of anger shoots through you, causing you to throw your wooden spoon at their expensive cameras. unfortunately, it just bounces off of the arm of a short looking man carrying a heavy duty camera.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you yell, shooing them away from max. “can you just leave us alone for one second?”

bothersome paparazzi like this was common when you grew up in a family rich with drama and money. you recall them camping in front of your house, shutters clicking once they saw a sign of movement. whatever mistake you made, like tripping over a small rock or fighting with your sister over a doll, was publicized and dramatized into unrecognizable stories on gossip magazines that were popular in your home country. it was a pity that this was max’s first introduction to these pests.

you pull max with you as you shove your way roughly through the paparazzi. they deserved it if you accidentally smashed someone’s lens.

max stumbles behind you.

“wha-?” he says, holding the half-empty chocolate ice cream. “where are we going?”

you huff. “away from those wannabe photographers- i hate them so much.”

you flip open your phone to call your chauffeur, but your app notifies you it would take a total of ten minutes for him to weave through traffic to get to you both. in the distance, the paparazzi raise their cameras again, shutters clicking as they photograph your pissed off expression and a dumbfounded max next to you. you can practically see the headlines tomorrow- ‘bratty billionaire back in country!!’

like a godsend, a futuristic-looking car rumbles to life next to you. that will probably get you home and away from these fuckers fast, right? hurriedly, you march over to the disgruntled middle-aged man in the passengers’ seat.

“five million for your car- right now.” you say, dead serious.

the man’s eyes widen comically large.

“five mi-“

you cut him off quickly, seeing the paparazzi darting closer to max, who was still holding the ice cream and eyeing the cameras wearily.

“yes, five million. i’ll mail you the check.”

without another word, the man tosses you the keys and hefts himself out of the car. you leap into the drivers seat just as he gets out, and jam your finger on the window down button to beckon max into the car immediately.

the moment he sits down on the expensive-looking leather seats, you rev the engine and leave the paparazzi behind in the dust.

it’s not until you are halfway back to your penthouse when max finally speaks.

“this is a super nice car,” he states, running his hand against the interior side panels.

you look around, really noticing the detailings of the car. the sides look like they are made with some carbon fiber material, and it seemed like it didn’t even have a door handle- just straps you pull on the corner of the dashboard.

”yeah, i guess so,” you admit. “i just bought this off of that dude back there in order to get away from the damn paparazzi.”

max wrinkles his brows.

“you bought-?? what??? you know this is an aston martin valkyrie, right?”

the next morning, when the sun shines through the skyline windows lining your penthouse, you keep your promise by instructing one of your staff to send the promised check to the random guy on the street (fernando, he said his name was). your boyfriend scrolls idly on his phone next to you, probably scrolling through your family’s lengthy wikipedia page again. his cats stamp around your white bedsheets as if they owned the place. you think about what you both could do today. perhaps visit the children’s hospital? before moving to monaco, you frequented many small hospitals, bringing gifts for the children. it always felt good seeing the sick kids light up with joy. or, you could go shopping, although you did spend a little bit much on the random car yesterday. or-

before you can complete your thought, a familiar ringtone lights up the screen of your phone. your mother’s name lights up your phone, as if taunting you. before you second-guess yourself, you smash your finger into the green ‘answer’ button and place the phone to your ear.

your mother’s voice flows through the speakers, sending a wave of nostalgia throughout your body.

“darling!” the voice hums, “why didn’t you tell me that you were back in your home country? i had to find out over the silly little paparazzi pictures on the newspapers!”

damn it, you think, cursing silently in your head. it seemed that the paparazzi from yesterday night had probably sold your pictures to some trashy gossip magazine that had caught the attention of your mother. that meant that you had to face your family sooner or later.

“hello, mother,” you reply curtly, trying to avoid the topic. “how may i help you?”

your mother tuts through the speakerphone. “oh, your own mother can’t just call to say hello?”

you groan. “no- i mean yes-“

your mother cuts you off, laughing. “i’m kidding, darling. i just wanted to let you know that i’m hosting a party at our estate tomorrow, to celebrate your arrival! you’ve been in monaco for a god-awful long time. your cousins and siblings will be coming too- i’m sure they’ll all excited to see you after your hiatus in monaco!”

you hesitate before responding. your first instinct was to say no, because everybody knew full well that the only reason your cousins and siblings even bothered to show up at these kind of events is to save face and show off their new ridiculously expensive clothing and cars, not to welcome you. however, this also gave you a chance for max to meet your parents, like he wanted back in monaco. it isn’t a hard choice when you agree to meet the next day.

max revs the engine once again as he pulls the valkyrie to stop in front of the valet at the front of your family’s estate.

through the tinted windows of the car, you see one of your snobby cousins, dressed in an jeweled gown, jump at the loud sound and clutch her husband’s arm tighter however, her husband ignores her to get a good look at your aston martin supercar, which makes you laugh. to your surprise, he is not the only one. a few other family members gather around, admiring the hypercar.

in the passenger’s seat, max’s mischievous grin slowly turns into a frown of nervousness as he spots the crowd of people gathering around you both. you know it must look intimidating, meeting your significant other’s family, especially when they had such high expectations of you. you place a kiss on his cheek.

“you ready, maxie?” you ask, patting his shoulder comfortingly.

he nods, before opening the car door.

like the gentleman he is, max quickly hurries over to the passenger’s side of the car to help you out of the car. you gladly take his hand, and step out of the vehicle daintily. straight away, you can hear the confused mutterings and jealous glares of your family members start up, which follow the both of you into the house.

like expected, your childhood home is decorated a little over the top. people mingle under crystal chandeliers around staircases draped with real flowers. from the second living room, music drifts out that sounds suspiciously like martin garrix. a fancy bar is set up a room that was usually the dining room, with a bottle of every single alcohol you can ever think of. the courtyard, usually empty save a few plants, was turned into outdoor buffet bar, complete with a five story cake and massive chocolate fountain.

once inside, max attempts to introduce himself to the first friendly-looking family member that he sees, which happens to be your aunt on your mother’s side. he sticks out his hand, a smile gracing his face.

“hi, my name is max,” he says, “i’m your niece’s boyfriend.”

your aunt nods politely, shaking his hand.

“hello max,” she says, visibly studying him, “what are you, a ceo? businessman? sports star?”

”auntie!” you say, shocked, cutting max off from his response. that rude bitch. although she looked relatively kind from the outside, all she really cared about anyone was their power and money. which was probably why your cousin married a mega popstar that was away half the time. like the rest of your family, money trumped true love. “you can’t just start a conversation like that!”

max shakes his head, “no, no, it’s alright. i’m an engineer.”

“ah,” your aunt says, knowingly. taking a sip of her champagne, she continues, “head engineer, huh? of what company?”

thinking he might have misheard her, max corrects her, “oh- no, not head engineer, just an engineer, like in an office.”

your great-aunt’s friendly demeanor automatically drops.

“just an engineer?” she responds, coldly.

you notice how max’s face falls the slightest bit, before he plasters a fake polite smile on his face. he shuffles uncomfortably, glancing at you, as if saying, did i say something wrong?

before you can say something rather rude to your aunt, a hand clasps your shoulder. turning around, your brother beams at you.

“sister!” he exclaims. “i haven’t seen you in a hot sec. too busy partying in monaco, huh? or doing your silly little business things for redbull?”

he then eyes max, to which he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “who’s this, huh? your boyfriend?”

”yes,” you snap, still a little pissed from your aunt’s rude reaction.

your brother puts his hands up jokingly, in a surrender position. “damn, okay, no need to be defensive.”

he sticks out his hand to your boyfriend, who takes it gladly.

“what’s up, dude,” your brother says, shaking max’s hand. “i saw you pull up with my sister in that sick aston martin valkyrie! you must have some insane connections- the waitlist for that baby is like years long.”

your aunt answers before your boyfriend can.

“there’s no way he could have bought that car- he’s just an office engineer at some company at who knows where,” she says pointedly.

hearing this, your brother’s impressed look turns into a sneer of disdain. he steps back from max in disgust, as if he had just turned into some horrible monster. he chuckles at you.

”wow, sister, you’ve outdone yourself huh? an office engineer?”

your family, slowly becoming aware of something going on, turns towards the scene. a wide-eyed martin garrix turns off the booming music in the back.

you shove your brother further away from max, causing the glass of champagne to spill onto your brother’s designer suit.

“what’s wrong with you?” you exclaim angrily. “at least he has a job, unlike you!”

ignoring the bubbling liquid staining his suit and your enraged expression, he turns toward max, still eyeing him with disgust. “how pathetic, leeching off of my sister’s money as a ceo? ha, you probably used her card to buy that valkyrie, didn’t you?”

next to you, stunned into silence, max’s blue eyes begin to fill with tears.

behind you, your aunt lets out a cackle of laughter, along with a few members of the crowd.

you just about launch yourself at your brother, wanting more than anything to bash his head in.

as if it couldn’t get worse, your mother pushes through the crowd gathered around you both, and grabs your arm before you can make contact with your brother.

“hey!” she yells, yanking you back. “what is going on here?”

your brother grins, pointing at max. “your precious daughter went and got herself a little gold digger boyfriend- and look, he’s crying!”

you glance over to max, heart sinking. like your brother said, he had a tear running down his face, and he shook a little with embarrassment. it reminded you of a story that max once told you, how his father had often upset him as a child when he was forced to do karting. an anger flared inside of you. max had only wanted to be a good boyfriend and introduce himself to your family, but was in turn ridiculed in front of a crowd by your hypocrite brother.

your mother turns to max, then turns to you.

“is this true, darling?” she asks, tilting her head. “does he exploit you for money?”

does max exploit you for money? you can hardly even comprehend the ridiculous sentence. you roughly yank your arm out of your mother’s grasp and march over to max. you lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze.

you turn towards your chuckling brother. he won’t be laughing soon.

“you’re really one to talk, brother! you think you’re hot shit, with a large chunk of mother’s company stocks. well, wouldn't it be a shame if everyone knew that you are in debt from your uncontrollable gambling problem, hmm? i wonder what your wife feels about that?”

you take comfort in the way the smug smile drops from your brother’s face, now replaced with a withering glare. the silent crowd gathered around the scene lets out a gasp, in light of this news. their focus now was trained on your brother instead of max.

“and you!” you exclaim, turning to your aunt. “since you think the word gold digger is so funny, auntie, wouldn’t you like to know how your own daughter is one, huh?”

your aunt jerks back, not used to the crowd’s attention trained on her, along with your harsh words.

”yeah,” you continue, “if you would stop judging people based on their worth in money, you might have been able to see that all she does is spend her husband‘s money on inane things in order to ignore his multiple affairs!”

from the back of the room, you hear your cousin burst into tears while her mother, your aunt, standing in front of you, turns as red as a tomato.

gently, you lead max towards the gilded gold front door. your family gives you judgemental looks as you make your way through the crowd. turning back one last time before you step out, you address the crowd. “don’t think any of you guys are any better. all you lot do is leech off of trust fund money!”

max stays silent all the way to your penthouse, as do you. after a hot shower, you bundle him up in your soft fluffy blankets until he looks the puft marshmallow man. you can’t help but feel terrible. he silently shuffles towards you, which you respond by pulling his head against your chest. jimmy and sassy watch wearily from a distance on the carpet.

you are the first to cut through the silence.

“i am so sorry that my family did that to you, maxie.”

he doesn’t answer, but the new tears that soak your expensive silk pajama set does the answering for him.

you run your hand through his damp strands of light brown hair, and rub his back comfortingly.

he pulls back from your embrace to wipe his eyes briefly.

“why do you love me?” he hiccups, cheeks wet with tears. “like- i have no money, two cats that you hate, and- and- a tiny apartment-“

“max!” you say, cutting him off from his ramblings. “listen to me.”

you look into his watery eyes, eyelashes wet with tears.

”i really don’t care if you lived in a literal dirt hole with no job, or if you were a formula one world champion. i would love you no matter what. i love your blue eyes and your pouty lips and your lisp, and your cologne, and the bread that you bake, and your little apartment and even though it may not seem like it, i love your stupid cats too.“

he chuckles wetly at the last part of your sentence.

you kiss the top of his head.

”you don’t know how much i love you, max emillian verstappen.”

a devious grin slips onto his face. he shoots you a sultry look.

“show me.”

and you do.

later, when max lays asleep on the bed, love bites on his neck, face slightly flushed, and back bare, you get up to fetch your phone.

the person you seek is only a few taps away. he picks up on the second ring, politely greeting you even though it was an ungodly hour. you tell him your request, but he hesitates slightly.

”are you sure-“

you cut your financial advisor off as politely as possible.

“yes, that’s right. i would like to buy the entirety of my mother’s companies and my father’s estates.”

the sounds of pencil scratching paper fills your ears before your financial advisor lets out a sound of approval.

“right away, ma’am!”

a/n: APOLOGIES for my week-long hiatus!! take this fic as an apology... your normal spinoff series! scheduling will resume shortly <3

also let me know if you have a better name for this piece- i was STRUGGLING trying to name this one ;-;

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #f1 imagine #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #mv1 x y/n #mv1 x reader #mv1 x you #📝

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christianconvery · 5 months ago

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Christian Convery Age

Christian Convery, a young actor taking the entertainment industry by storm, is one of the most promising talents of his generation. With each project, he continues to captivate audiences worldwide, showcasing an impressive range of skills that belies his age. This article delves into Christian Convery's background, career, accomplishments, and what lies ahead for this budding Hollywood star.

Early Life and Background

Christian Convery was born on November 10, 2009, in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. From a young age, Convery demonstrated an affinity for performing arts, captivating friends and family with his natural charisma. His early interest in acting led him to enroll in acting classes, where he honed his skills and prepared for a career in the highly competitive world of film and television.

Christian Convery's Career Beginnings

Christian Convery’s career began in earnest at the age of seven, when he landed minor roles in popular television series. His debut on the small screen gave him a platform to demonstrate his talent, and it was evident from the start that he had a unique ability to convey deep emotions with authenticity and nuance. His early roles were instrumental in shaping his career, and his performances quickly caught the attention of casting directors and filmmakers.

Read Also👉 Christian Convery Biography, Age, Height, Awards, Lifestyle

First Breakthrough Roles

In 2018, Convery got his first significant break when he was cast in the film "Beautiful Boy" alongside renowned actors Steve Carell and Timothée Chalamet. This role marked a turning point in Convery’s career, as he displayed his remarkable ability to bring depth to his characters, leaving a lasting impression on both the audience and critics. This was just the beginning of a series of successful roles that would establish Convery as a young actor to watch.

Christian Convery’s Most Notable Projects

Sweet Tooth: The Role That Put Him on the Map

One of the most notable roles in Christian Convery’s career is his portrayal of Gus in Netflix's hit series "Sweet Tooth". Released in 2021, "Sweet Tooth" follows the journey of Gus, a young boy who is part human and part deer, navigating a post-apocalyptic world. Convery’s performance in the series earned him widespread acclaim, as he brought a unique blend of innocence, vulnerability, and strength to the character. The role not only showcased his versatility but also solidified his place in Hollywood as a talented young actor with immense potential.

Other Standout Roles and Collaborations

In addition to "Sweet Tooth," Convery has appeared in several other popular projects. He starred in the 2020 film "Playing with Fire" alongside John Cena, where he displayed his comedic timing and ability to work in a family-oriented film. His versatility as an actor is evident from the diverse genres he has explored, ranging from drama to adventure and comedy.

Convery has also been part of Disney's "Descendants" franchise, where he took on a role in "Descendants 3". His ability to adapt to different types of characters has made him a favorite among casting directors, and his performances continue to captivate audiences around the world.

Awards and Recognition

Christian Convery's dedication to his craft has not gone unnoticed. His portrayal of Gus in "Sweet Tooth" earned him a Young Artist Award nomination, highlighting his exceptional talent at a young age. His performance was also praised by numerous critics, further establishing him as a breakout star in Hollywood. Recognition from the industry and accolades from his peers have cemented his reputation, motivating him to push boundaries and continue delivering exceptional performances.

Christian Convery’s Acting Style and Inspirations

Christian Convery's acting style is often characterized by his emotional depth and ability to connect with his characters on a personal level. Despite his young age, he brings a maturity to his roles that resonates with audiences. Convery cites Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hanks as major influences, admiring their commitment to their roles and dedication to authenticity. He aspires to emulate their careers and has stated in interviews that he hopes to work on projects that challenge him and allow him to explore diverse roles.

Balancing Education and Acting

As a young actor, balancing school with a burgeoning acting career is no small feat. Christian Convery’s parents have played an essential role in ensuring he has a well-rounded upbringing, prioritizing his education while supporting his dreams. Convery continues his studies through a combination of traditional schooling and homeschooling, allowing him to maintain his academic progress without compromising his career. His commitment to education is a testament to his determination and maturity, and it serves as an inspiration to other young actors striving to achieve similar success.

Christian Convery’s Future Projects

The future looks incredibly bright for Christian Convery, with several upcoming projects already in the pipeline. Although specific details remain under wraps, Convery has expressed excitement about exploring more complex roles and working with accomplished directors and actors. As he continues to grow both in age and experience, his fans eagerly await his next big role, which is certain to showcase his evolving talent and cement his place in the entertainment industry.

Potential Roles and Genre Exploration

Christian has expressed interest in venturing into genres such as action and fantasy, where he can take on more physically demanding and adventurous roles. With his ability to adapt to new challenges, there’s little doubt that he’ll thrive in these genres, much like he has in his previous projects. As he matures, industry insiders predict that he will transition smoothly into adult roles, thanks to his strong foundation and impressive skill set.

Christian Convery’s Influence on Young Audiences

Christian Convery is more than just a talented young actor; he is an inspiration for his generation. Through his work, he has shown that hard work, passion, and dedication can lead to success at any age. He serves as a role model to aspiring young actors worldwide, proving that age is no barrier to achieving one’s dreams. His humility and positive attitude have also won him the admiration of his fans, who appreciate not only his talent but also his character.

Conclusion

Christian Convery’s journey from a young boy with a dream to one of Hollywood’s most promising young actors is a testament to his talent, hard work, and perseverance. His impressive portfolio, dedication to his craft, and the support of his family have all contributed to his success. With more exciting projects on the horizon, Christian Convery is set to become one of the most influential young actors in the industry. As he continues to evolve and grow, we look forward to witnessing the remarkable career that lies ahead for this rising star.

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pineconepie · 1 month ago

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Parental yandere mafia dad who kidnaps you takes you in <3

TW: Mentions of death, platonic yandere, forced age regression, infantilization

...

You know this is stupid, but you have no choice in the matter.

The worst thing is, its not even your fault you're in this situation. A family member made some horrible choices with a huge, well-known mob, and they died before they could pay off the debt they owe.

So, it falls on your shoulders now.

They said if you could do some favors for them, they'd let you live a peaceful life and never bother you again.

But either way, it seemed like death was almost inevitable.

"Hey person who has no experience with mob bosses and cartels, go gather intel on one of the world's most feared mob boss without getting caught! We're sure you'll do great!"

You're sure they're aware you probably won't turn up alive.

That's besides the point. You had a job to do.

And this is why you've found yourself here, entering a huge building with obnoxiously bright neon lights, the air smelling heavily of alcohol.

Its both a casino and nightclub, you figure, as you see a few gambling tables along with a large dance floor, and a bar in the far back. The ground is a little sticky beneath your shoes, and some weirdo bumps into you, clearly drunk.

The guy they asked you to gather information about is none other than Vincent Brewer. From what you've heard, he's ruthless, sadistic, fearless, and loves to flaunt his wealth and success.

His group, Cryo, dabbles in a little bit of everything.

Selling guns, manufacturing weapons, running casinos, killing those that piss them off... All things like that.

So of course, you're terrified out of your mind.

But you manage to make it past the bouncer and enter inside.

Its a nice place, despite all the crimes you're sure happened here. A lot cleaner than you'd expect for such an area.

Almost immediately, you see none other than Vincent himself.

He has short blond hair, hazel-green eyes, and a black suit with a trench coat draped over his shoulders.

He's smirking as he talks to what you presume are other members of Cryo. Vincent is pretty well-known for that smile. It's rare he ever drops it.

You wonder if its because he genuinely finds joy in anything and everything or because he feels the need to come off as tough or domineering. Knowing how much power he wields, it's probably both.

There's no time to stand and stare, though.

You approach, pretending to be one of them, but before you can back out and regret your decisions, he already has his eye on you. You feel like a rabbit trying to convince a den of wolves that you're one of them. And this is the biggest, meanest, hungriest wolf in the world.

"Well, hello," Vincent says. His smile doesn't leave his face, but softens a tiny bit. He looks you up and down. "I don't believe we've met. Are you new?"

Your hands are clammy and trembling, but you put on a fake smile and offer to shake his hand. "Yeah! I'm... (Y/n)." For a moment, you hesitate, considering maybe you should give a fake name just in case, but looks like it's too late for that.

Now that you think about it, you're definitely sure you were sent on a death-mission. Those people didn't even give you proper training.

"(Y/n), huh?" Vincent asks, shaking your hand. He's got a firm grip, as you expected. "Nice to meet you, kiddo. You seem a bit young to be one of my recruits, though." He brushes some hair out of your face, making you tense.

"I guess I look a bit younger than I am," you mutter. "I'm an adult, if that's what you're worried about."

He laughs at that. "Well, that's good! I'd hate to hear how a kid ended up with us!" Then he ruffles your hair, which is a bit embarrassing, but he seems so nice about it that it's not unbearable. "You're just a baby compared to almost everyone in this room. I think I'll need to tell the employees to make sure you don't drink or gamble. That's for grown-ups."

You relax when you realize he's teasing you.

Maybe that's a good sign? "It's okay, I don't really do either of those often, anyway."

Vincent lets out another chuckle, putting a hand on your back, leading you through the crowds and towards where the tables are. There's lots of other people sitting, talking, drinking, laughing. Playing cards or chess or something like that.

Just a bunch of regular casino things.

So far, so good.

This might actually end up working out after all...

"So why exactly did you want to join us?" Vincent asks as he sits you down at one of the chairs, pulling his own chair up next to yours. "Come from a wealthy family? Orphans? Wanted to get off the streets?"

You rub the back of your neck awkwardly, thinking of a suitable lie you'll remember for later. "Ah... I needed the money... Medical bills and stuff. Don't have any family to rely on anymore. Thought maybe if I could save up enough money, I wouldn't need to worry anymore..."

It's kind of true. After you get the information, they said they would reward you with enough cash to pay off whatever was still owed.

But whether that will ever actually happen is yet to be seen.

The more pressing issue was how Vincent would react. So far, so good. He hasn't questioned anything. Just nodded his head sympathetically and hummed at your explanation.

You continue. "And plus, Cryo seems really cool. No pun intended."

"Well, that's nice of you to say," he replies with a laugh. "We try our best around here. You seem a little jittery, though. I hope I don't scare you, kiddo?"

"I mean..." You can't really admit the real reason without outing yourself. He sounds like a man that wants to be feared by everyone. "I think this is just a new environment to me. I don't do too well with crowds."

Vincent nods understandably, patting your shoulder. "Makes sense. It is kinda noisy in here, huh? Sorry about that. Normally we're not like this, but tonight is a party night since we made a pretty big deal recently, as you're aware."

You nod, pretending to know what he's talking about. "Oh, yeah, I heard about that." This means you've already failed step one of your task - being updated on current deals - but that's okay. There's plenty of time to get the intel later. Right?

His eyes darken slightly, but his smile never leaves. "And besides... Can't say we're the nicest group of folks, either." He pokes your cheek and laughs again. "I'm worried this might be too much for you."

"Really, its okay!" you argue. "I'm a lot tougher than I look, I swear!"

He snorts. "You look like a puppy surrounded by wolves. Even if you're tougher than you look, it makes you an easy target. People are gonna be more quick to try to take you out instead of someone bigger than them."

Is he insulting you or genuinely concerned? You hope he's joking and teasing again. "I'll prove I'm strong enough to fit in! You won't have to worry about me one bit. And I can help out Cryo a lot, I promise!" You don't know why you're getting defensive over his condescending tone.

Vincent only seems amused by it, more than he already was. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, smiling sweetly down at you. "Ohh, I'm sure you're veerrry strong, sweetie."

He sounds patronizing, in that overly-sweet way, as if speaking to a toddler.

He rubs your cheek a few times before leaning back and releasing you. "I think I'll let you stay if you answer one question for me, how 'bout that?"

You nod. "Of course. Anything."

His smile becomes more sharp. "Who sent you?"

"W-what?" Your mouth feels dry. The whole mood shifts, and suddenly it feels much less welcoming, making your stomach churn in panic.

Did you get caught that easily? How did you mess up? Maybe he's just bluffing.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Vincent stares down at you, eyes now narrowed. "You aren't fooling anyone, doll. We have extensive background checks before any of our members can even begin to be considered eligible for recruitment. I personally meet every single one of our new recruits to approve them and remember all of their names. Not only that, but I lied about a recent deal. There was no recent deal."

Your heart starts beating faster in your chest. You feel cold sweat dripping from your forehead.

He saw through you so quickly. Does he already know why you're here?

If you lie again, you're not sure you'll make it out of here alive. "Scarlet Syndicate sent me. I owe them debt, I'm not part of them... please don't kill me."

The man snickers and leans back against his chair again. "Oh, you poor thing. Its pretty clear they aren't expecting you to come back to them with info. They probably sent you here to die or get lost and forgotten about. That's cruel, even by my standards. They set you up for failure." His voice softens up. "You're shaking..."

You're hyperventilating a little, panicking. "I don't wanna die."

Vincent coos at you gently, wrapping a secure arm around you and pulling you into his lap. "Shhh, shh, hey... relax, kiddo, I'm not gonna kill you... I would never hurt such a precious little sweetheart." He kisses your head. "Calm down. Breathe in, breathe out..."

You listen to him and do as instructed.

Taking in deep breaths through the nose, letting them out from your mouth slowly. He rubs gentle circles along your back until you relax against him. He secures you in a firm hold and lifts you up against his chest.

Even for a mob boss, he has an impressive amount of strength to carry you with almost no effort.

You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

He smirks at you again. "Aww... does baby wanna be carried everywhere now?" Though its teasing, its also affectionate. You find yourself nodding regardless.

Vincent walks out with you still in his arms, ignoring his colleagues' confused gazes. You can see the exit sign coming closer and closer.

Once you leave the building, he puts you inside a limousine with him, shutting the door behind. He gathers you in his arms after shedding his long beige trench coat, wrapping it around you and engulfing you like a blanket.

This man you hardly even know just called you 'baby.'

You're not quite sure what to make of that.

"Home," he tells the driver. And then he looks down at you. "You really are a little baby, huh?"

You don't know how to react to this sudden display of parental behavior, except stare in confusion.

He pulls you into his lap. "I always wanted a kid of my own, you know. But unfortunately, fate decided I couldn't have any of my own. Well, guess it doesn't matter now!" His eyes flicker across your face. "As soon as I saw you, I could tell you needed someone to take care of you. Like a dad."

"But..." you sniffle. "I'm not a kid."

"Maybe not physically, but I can tell mentally. And you should be grateful for that. I usually don't let any spies live long enough to see another day," Vincent says. "So what do we say?"

You hesitate. "...thank you?"

"You're very welcome, munchkin. When we get you home, we'll have some late dinner and then its bedtime for you," Vincent coos.

"I usually go to bed a lot later than this," you protest.

"Nope, not anymore," he argues back, petting your hair. "As much as I want to be the fun dad, rules are rules. Bedtime will be 8:30 PM for you everyday starting from now on, got it?"

You guess you don't really have a choice.

Not in a million years did you expect this outcome of you being caught spying, but hey, its better than death by gunshot!

The limousine stops outside a huge penthouse.

Vincent carries you out of the vehicle and holds your hand as he leads you to the elevators. Inside, there's a deskman who waves at him. You shyly wave back, a bit unsure.

"This is (Y/n). They'll be staying with me from now on," Vincent explains to him. "If you see them trying to leave without me, call security and tell them to escort them back to my place. And notify me."

"Yes, sir," he agrees, then looks back at you. "Nice to meet you (Y/n). I'm August. If you need anything, feel free to ask!"

You stare at him, then Vincent, dumbfounded.

Vincent pulls you along. "Come on, baby. Let's go home."

Inside the elevator, you're left in shock, speechless. It goes high up - the top floor - before arriving at a large, fancy room.

He unlocks the door to reveal his apartment.

The entire thing is covered with plush rugs, sleek furniture, shiny marble floors, beautiful lights... Everything you'd expect in a multi-millionaire's home, including but not limited to a grand piano sitting in the middle of the living room and two full-size couches in front of a flatscreen TV, and what looks to be some kind of bar or wine cabinet.

"You can explore more tomorrow," Vincent tells you. "Until then, let's get dinner over with and then bedtime. Tomorrow we can discuss how you want your room to look like, clothes, toys, that stuff. Sound good?"

"Yeah," you mumble in agreement.

Vincent sets you down on the sofa, where you watch him grab a remote off of the coffee table.

He turns on the television and flips through channels before settling on something he deemed suitable, which happens to be some sort of children's cartoon.

He begins cooking in the other room, and you're still in too much shock to even think of trying to escape.

This all feels so surreal.

Twenty minutes later, he calls you into the kitchen and has you sit down next to him while he serves you both food.

It's decent, his cooking skills aren't amazing, but decent. You don't mind eating it, though he does give you a stern look when you don't eat all your vegetables.

Afterwards, he guides you upstairs into what appears to be the guest room, saying he'll redecorate it to fit you later. He excuses himself for a moment, coming back with yellow silk pajamas for you to change into. You do so as he turns around to give you some privacy.

When you finish dressing up, he has you brush your teeth, then wash your hands thoroughly. Finally, he helps you climb into the bed, tucking you beneath the blankets.

You can't help but admit that the mattress is really nice.

Vincent smiles down at you kindly. "I'm glad we found each other today, kiddo." He kisses your forehead. "Dad will stay here until you fall asleep, yeah?"

Of course, you don't argue. He watches you like a hawk until eventually, you close your eyes and drift away.

#yandere #parental yandere #familial yandere #platonic yandere #forced agere #forced age regression #tw infantilization #tw infantilism #yandere oc

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