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be4chywritez · 2 months ago

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sweet like honey | max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!reader

"you're to sweet for me."

Max doesn't like how nice you are towards him.

beachy’s masterlist🐚

prompt list

Max isn't sure why he doesn’t like you. You’ve never wronged him, never talked bad about him, or been rude in any way. But for some odd reason, Max hates you.

Maybe it’s the Verstappen genes kicking in, that innate tendency to be an asshole. Or maybe it’s bred into him to keep sweet things like you at a distance. So, you can imagine his shock and horror when he sees you perched on the couch, flipping through a book in his friend’s Italian villa.

Your eyes meet his, and a smile graces your lips. You place the book in your lap, and he watches as your eyes brighten at the sight of him, the same way they might light up at the sight of a pretty flower.

Your small yellow sundress barely covers your upper thighs, and Max can’t help but stare before quickly looking down at his phone, not wanting to be too obvious about his boyish gawking.

“Max,” you say softly, your voice warm and rich like honey, drawing his attention whether he wants it or not.

He hears you, of course, but pretends to focus on his phone. His thumb moves slowly over the screen, though nothing he sees holds his interest. It’s the way you say his name that sticks in his mind, making it impossible to ignore.

“It’s nice to see you,” you continue, your tone sincere as if you mean it more than you should. You settle back into the cushions, your dress slipping a little higher on your thighs, and he catches himself glancing before looking away again.

Max lets out a quiet huff, his eyes still fixed on his phone, but his attention is all on you now. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he murmurs, his voice lower than usual, almost guarded.

You shift, crossing your legs under you, the air feeling warmer, closer. “A surprise, I guess,” you reply, a faint smile tugging at your lips, the kind that lingers, soft and effortless.

Max clenches his jaw, forcing himself to look back at his phone. Still, he’s hyper-aware of your presence, of the subtle scent of your perfume lingering in the room. He swallows hard, trying to steady himself, even as his chest tightens.

“Yeah,” he mutters, almost under his breath, like he’s afraid to say anything else, and you let the moment settle, content with the quiet between you.

Just then, his best friend Jamie stumbles in, holding a glass of chardonnay. “Maxie,” he coos, squishing Max’s cheeks together, making his lips pucker. Close behind comes your best friend, Mila—Jamie’s girlfriend.

A few others join the group, a mix of Jamie and Mila’s friends, and Max’s brow furrows as he realizes that they’re all couples. He internally groans, watching your eyes flit around like a lost puppy.

“Alright, everyone,” Mila announces with a clap of her hands, “time to head up. We’ve got a long day ahead tomorrow.”

One by one, the group starts dispersing, grabbing their things and heading upstairs. Max lingers, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, but he’s acutely aware of you standing up from the couch, smoothing down the hem of your dress.

You move with an easy grace, slipping past him with a soft, “Goodnight, Max.” There’s no sarcasm, no bite—just genuine kindness that he doesn’t understand. You flash him a small smile before heading toward the stairs.

Max’s jaw tightens as he watches you go. You’re far too calm, far too kind for his liking. It makes him uncomfortable, like you’re holding a mirror up to the way he behaves, forcing him to see the stark contrast between you.

He takes a deep breath, tucking his phone into his pocket, and follows behind the group. The villa is beautiful, the soft glow of the lights casting long shadows across the walls as everyone makes their way to their respective rooms. His room is at the far end of the hall, and as he reaches it, he notices you standing just outside the door next to his.

“Looks like we’re neighbors,” you say lightly, your voice warm and soft. You hold your toothbrush and a towel, your yellow sundress replaced by pale pink silky pajamas, and there’s something almost disarming about how comfortable you seem.

Max nods, his expression neutral. “Yeah.”

You don’t push the conversation, only smile again as you step into your room. “Sleep well, Max,” you say over your shoulder, as if you mean it.

He huffs quietly, more out of habit than frustration, and slips into his own room. The door closes with a soft click, and he leans back against it, rubbing a hand over his face.

For a moment, he stands there, in the silence of the room, staring at nothing in particular. He doesn’t know why your kindness unsettles him so much. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong, but that’s exactly the problem. You’re too nice. Too understanding. And for some reason, it gets under his skin.

Max changes into a T-shirt and shorts, moving about the room on autopilot. He keeps hearing your voice, soft and sweet, lingering in his thoughts.

Finally, he pulls back the covers and slides into bed, trying to shut everything out. But it’s quiet now—too quiet. And even though you’re just on the other side of the wall, he can’t stop thinking about you.

In the middle of the night, he’s still awake, tossing and turning, when there’s a soft knock on his door. Max sits up, frowning slightly, wondering who it could be at this hour.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and pads across the room, opening the door just a crack. It’s you, standing there, a little sheepish, your arms crossed lightly over your chest.

“Sorry,” you whisper, barely audible, “I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just… my room's really hot. I think the AC is broken.”

Max blinks, unsure of what to say at first. Part of him wants to tell you to deal with it yourself, but another part of him can’t ignore it.

His eyes linger on you more than he’d admit—your hair sticking to your neck from sweat, your cheeks flushed, and you nibble your lip nervously. Your tank top has ridden up, a sliver of your hip exposed, and Max does everything in his power to push those thoughts away.

“Uh… you could just crack open a window,” he suggests, his voice a bit rough from sleep. He knows the words sound hollow even to him. He doesn’t want you in his space, yet part of him doesn’t want you sweating alone either.

You fidget slightly, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I tried, but it didn’t help. I just thought… maybe I could crash in here?” The words hang in the air, hopeful yet tentative.

Max’s heart races at the idea. The prospect of sharing the bed makes his palms sweat. It’s one thing to be in the same room, but sharing a bed? He hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as he weighs his options.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but there’s a hint of something deeper in his tone. The image of you curled up beside him—too close for comfort—sends a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” you offer a nervous smile, clearly not wanting to invade his space, so you back away, ducking into your room. He watches you until the door is shut behind you.

Max stands in the doorway, his heart racing as he processes the moment. He’s not sure why he feels such a strong urge to call you back, to insist that it’s okay, but the words remain stuck in his throat. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of irritation and something else—something he’s not ready to name.

As he paces back to his bed, he tries to shake off the lingering image of you standing there, your flushed cheeks and nervous smile. He lies down again, staring at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you’re just a wall away.

A few moments pass before he hears a soft, muffled noise from your room—a sniffle, maybe? It makes his chest tighten at the thought of you crying because you're uncomfortable.

“Damn it,” he mutters to himself, tossing an arm over his eyes. He’s not going to sleep if he keeps thinking about you like this.

After what feels like an eternity of tossing and turning, he finally sits up, his decision made. He stands up, his heart pounding in his chest, and makes his way to your door. He raises his hand to knock but hesitates, uncertainty flooding in.

“Why the hell am I doing this?” he mutters, his self-doubt creeping back in. But the thought of you feeling uncomfortable alone is enough to push him through. He knocks softly, the sound barely more than a tap.

“Hey,” you call from inside, and he can hear the surprise in your voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he replies, his voice worse than he intended. “I… just thought maybe you could come back. It’s probably not that hot here.”

There’s a brief silence, and he can imagine the look on your face—surprised and perhaps a little hopeful. “Really?” you ask, and he can’t help the slight smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

The door swings open, revealing you still in your silk-clad pajamas. He rips his gaze away, feeling a tightness in his throat. He doesn't utter a word, just turns around, walking to his room. He can hear your feet padding behind him, and you close the door behind the both of you.

Max keeps his back to you as you quietly follow him into the room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The air feels heavier now, thick with unspoken tension as you stand there in the dim light, waiting for him to say something. But Max doesn’t. Instead, he heads straight for the bed, pulling back the covers on one side, his movements stiff and a little too deliberate.

“You can take the right side,” he mutters, not looking at you, as he slides under the covers on the left. His heart is pounding, though he tries to act like everything is fine.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to thank him or just keep quiet. Deciding not to push it, you simply nod, even though he isn’t looking at you. You cross the room and slip into the bed beside him, careful not to make any sudden movements.

The mattress dips slightly under your weight, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he can feel the same tension thrumming between you that you do. The bed feels impossibly small now, the space between you a thin sliver of air that crackles with awkwardness.

You lie still, facing away from him, but you can feel his presence—so close and yet so distant. The sound of his steady breathing fills the room, and you wonder if he’s doing the same as you, staring at the ceiling, trying to will himself to sleep.

Minutes stretch on, and the silence between you is deafening. Every creak of the bed, every shift in the sheets seems louder in the stillness of the night. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice so soft it barely breaks the silence. You don’t expect a reply, and for a few moments, there’s nothing but the sound of your own breathing.

Then, finally, Max shifts slightly beside you. “Yeah, whatever,” he grumbles, his voice low and rough, but there’s something different in it now. Something that isn’t as cold as before.

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Maybe he isn’t as indifferent as he wants you to think. You curl up a little more, trying to make yourself comfortable, even as the tension lingers in the air between you.

As the night drags on, you begin to drift in and out of sleep. The heat from the earlier part of the night is gone now, replaced by a cooler breeze that drifts in through the open window. The sheets are soft, and for the first time since you entered Max’s room, you start to relax.

Just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you feel something shift again. Max turns slightly, the mattress dipping as he moves closer—just barely, but enough for you to notice. His arm brushes against yours, and the warmth of his skin sends a small jolt through you.

You stay perfectly still, wondering if he did it on purpose or if he’s just restless. Either way, you don’t move, afraid to disturb the delicate balance between you.

Your mind races—what if you roll over onto him in your sleep? What if you start snoring?—and the nerves bubble up, spilling out before you can stop yourself.

“So… I haven’t slept in a guy’s bed in ages,” you blurt out, staring at the ceiling. Max barely reacts, his only acknowledgment a low, noncommittal “Mhm,” but it doesn’t stop you from talking.

“Yeah, it’s been, like… a long time. I’m more of a 'sleep with a thousand pillows' kind of person, you know? Gotta have the right setup.” You laugh a little, mostly to yourself, feeling the need to fill the quiet. Max doesn’t respond, but you keep going, too nervous to stop. “Oh, and I’m really bad with directions, like, I get lost in grocery stores. Once, I ended up in the freezer aisle for thirty minutes just trying to find the cereal.”

“Mhm.”

His replies are half-hearted at best, but you don’t mind. If anything, the sound of his quiet indifference weirdly helps soothe your nerves.

“Oh! And I can’t swim,” you say with a laugh, thinking it’s just another random fact to throw out there. But this time, Max’s head snaps toward you.

“You came to the amalfi coast, and you can’t swim?” he asks, his voice sharper than before, with a hint of amusement. His eyes narrow slightly, and you can’t help but grin.

“Yeah,” you reply, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Figured I’d just, you know… stay on the shore.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid.”

“Maybe,” you say, laughing softly, your nerves easing a bit. “But I’m good at other things. Like… did you know I can recite the entire script of Finding Nemo? Well, mostly.”

Max rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Great skill.”

You keep talking, the words flowing easier now. Your voice fills the room, soft and rhythmic, and even though Max doesn’t say much, you can feel the tension in the air start to shift. His body relaxes slightly, the space between you feeling a little less awkward.

“And another thing, I’m a terrible cook. Burnt spaghetti once. Didn’t even think that was possible. It’s water and noodles, right?” You laugh again, and this time Max lets out a quiet huff—almost like a chuckle, though he’d never admit it.

Your voice is like a steady hum, lulling the room into a gentle calm. You talk about everything and nothing, the words spilling out in a quiet stream. Max listens, his responses becoming softer, almost inaudible, but it doesn’t matter. His breathing slows, his eyes fluttering shut as your voice washes over him.

You don’t notice when he finally drifts off, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. But somehow, you feel it—the way the energy in the room has shifted, his earlier sharpness melted away into something softer, more relaxed.

The next morning, sunlight spills through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You stir first, the warmth of the bed enveloping you, your body reluctant to wake. For a moment, you forget where you are, and then it hits you—Max’s bed, Max’s room. You blink your eyes open slowly, turning your head slightly to see him still there, asleep.

He’s lying on his back now, the sheets tangled around his waist, his chest rising and falling with each slow breath. His face is serene, the harsh lines you’ve come to associate with him softened by sleep. His hair is slightly tousled, giving him an almost boyish look, something so different from the hard-edged man who usually glares at you.

You feel a strange flutter in your chest as you look at him, this version of Max—unguarded, vulnerable. It’s a side of him you never thought you’d see, and it’s almost too intimate, too close. You shift a little, trying not to make any noise, but the bed creaks softly under your weight.

Max stirs, his brows furrowing slightly as he slowly wakes up. His eyes open halfway, still hazy with sleep, and for a brief moment, he looks at you without the usual edge in his gaze. It’s like he’s forgotten for a second who you are, where he is.

Then, reality seems to settle back in, and his eyes narrow ever so slightly, though there’s no real malice there. Just a kind of gruff annoyance.

“Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice rough and low, thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply softly, offering a tentative smile.

He shifts, pushing himself up on his elbows, the sheet falling further down his waist, revealing more of his toned torso. You can’t help but glance, quickly averting your eyes when you realize you’re staring.

Max runs a hand through his messy hair, yawning as he glances at you. “You talk a lot in your sleep too, or is that just when you’re awake?” he asks, a hint of that familiar sarcasm creeping back into his tone, though there’s no real bite behind it.

You chuckle lightly, relaxing a little. “Only when I’m awake, I promise.”

He grunts, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence between you less awkward than you would’ve expected. It’s almost… comfortable.

Max stretches, his muscles flexing slightly as he does, and you try not to let your eyes linger too long. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and you’re grateful when he doesn’t seem to notice.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “how’d you sleep?”

He glances back at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he shrugs. “Fine, I guess.” There’s a pause, and then he adds, almost begrudgingly, “Didn’t mind all the talking.”

Your heart skips a beat at that, the small admission catching you off guard. You smile, warmth spreading through you. “Glad to know I didn’t annoy you too much.”

Max doesn’t respond, just grabs his phone from the nightstand and checks the time. But you catch the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips before he turns away.

He stands, pulling on a shirt and running a hand through his hair again before heading toward the door. “We’re leaving for breakfast soon,” he mutters. “Don’t take too long.”

He steps out before poking his head back in his face serious, “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he says gesturing a finger around towards you and him, right asshole Max is alive and well.

“Right.” you deflate, but none the less walk to your room. You notice the AC now works.

The warmth of the Italian sun is already starting to filter in through your window as you slip into your pale yellow babydoll dress. The soft fabric feels light against your skin, perfect for the warm weather and the laid-back vibes of the villa.

When you finally make your way downstairs, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries fills the air, and you can hear the familiar hum of laughter and chatter. The villa’s terrace is bathed in sunlight, with everyone seated around the large outdoor table, enjoying breakfast.

Max is already seated, of course, his usual stoic expression in place. He’s leaning back in his chair, sunglasses on, making it impossible to tell if he’s even noticed you.

An array of colorful fruits and pastries litters the table, couples chatting and laughing as you offer everyone a warm smile while taking a seat next to Mila, who returns the gesture. “How was the room, darling?” she asks, taking a sip of her tea. You can feel a pair of laser beams on your face, as if Max is staring into your soul.

“Oh, it was truly nice,” you reply, feeling the tips of your ears heat up with nerves. Mila seems to buy it and turns to address the entire group.

“So, guys, today we’re going to take the yacht around,” she announces, eliciting a few excited hoots from your friends. Your stomach tightens at the thought of being stuck on a yacht, but you brush the anxiety aside.

As the chatter around the breakfast table grows, the knot in your stomach tightens at the mention of the yacht. You toy with the edge of your napkin, trying to suppress the wave of nerves that accompanies the idea of being out on the water, especially since you can’t swim.

Max, still leaning back in his chair, tilts his head slightly in your direction, as if he senses the unease radiating off you. His sunglasses shield his eyes, but you swear you can feel his gaze tracing over you. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and you can almost hear his voice echoing in your mind: “You came to the Amalfi Coast, and you can’t swim?”

You swallow hard, forcing a smile as you join in on the group's excitement, even though the thought of being surrounded by water sends a shiver down your spine. Mila stands, gathering everyone’s attention, and starts guiding the group toward the dock.

The villa’s outdoor space spills into a sprawling garden, leading to a private path that takes you to where the yacht is docked. The sunlight glints off the water, almost blinding in its brightness, as you walk with the others toward the sleek, luxurious yacht. Everyone seems thrilled—laughing and talking about the views they’ll see—while you stay quieter than usual, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves.

You tug at the sleeves of your oversized polo, the fabric bunching slightly in your grip as you focus on steadying your breath. The path to the dock feels longer than it actually is, the sounds of the group’s lively chatter fading into the background. You glance at the shimmering blue water ahead and bite the inside of your cheek.

Max lingers just a few steps behind, and you can feel the weight of his presence even without looking. His footsteps are slow and deliberate, as if he’s watching you closely, waiting for any sign of weakness. You try not to dwell on it, though the image of him smirking at your fear lingers in the back of your mind.

As the group finally boards the yacht, you become hyper-aware of the water surrounding you. The boat rocks gently as everyone gets settled, and you grip the railing tightly, trying to hide your discomfort. Max watches you for a moment before walking past you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours.

“Relax,” he mutters under his breath, not even looking at you, but there’s something almost reassuring in his tone. You exhale slowly, forcing yourself to take a seat with the others, letting the warmth of the sun and the sound of conversation distract you from the vast ocean around you.

As the yacht pulls away from the dock, you try to focus on the scenery. The Amalfi Coast is breathtaking—cliffs draped in greenery, colorful villas dotting the shoreline, and the ocean sparkling beneath the golden sunlight. Everyone around you laughs and soaks up the beauty of the day, but your hands remain clenched in your lap, your mind preoccupied with the endless expanse of water.

Despite your nervousness, you find yourself stealing glances at Max. He’s sitting at the back of the yacht, one arm draped casually over the side, sunglasses shielding his eyes as he stares out at the water. He looks so at ease, completely unaffected by the swaying of the boat or the openness of the sea.

The breeze picks up, ruffling your hair, and as you turn your attention back to the group, you feel the yacht slow down. Mila claps her hands, announcing that they’ve anchored near a beautiful cove, perfect for swimming.

Your stomach drops.

Everyone begins shedding layers, excitement buzzing through the group as they prepare to jump into the water. You stay seated, gripping the edge of your chair as they leap overboard, laughter echoing around you.

Max stands, pulling off his shirt and revealing the defined muscles of his back and shoulders. Your eyes linger for a moment longer than you intend. He catches your gaze just before he moves toward the edge of the yacht, that same smirk playing on his lips.

“You coming in?” he asks, his voice low, almost challenging.

You shake your head quickly, offering a small laugh. “No, I think I’ll just… stay here and enjoy the sun.”

Max arches an eyebrow, clearly not buying your excuse, but he doesn’t push it. He gives you one last look, his smirk still in place, before diving effortlessly into the water.

You watch as your friends giggle and enjoy themselves. Mila waves up at you, and you give her a fake salute. She giggles and goes back to swimming. A few minutes later, several members of the group come up to take a break, Max among them. You hate to admit it, but you watch the water droplets roll off him, his cheeks flushed from the sun, and a tight feeling blooms in your core as you force yourself to look away.

The group is lively, and at one point, Jamie, always the instigator, starts playfully shoving friends toward the edge of the boat, teasing and laughing. You stand at the back, watching, hoping to stay out of the chaos.

But in a moment of playful exuberance, Jamie swings his arm and accidentally nudges you forward. Time seems to slow as you lose your balance, and before you can even process what’s happening, you tumble over the side of the yacht. The water crashes around you, and as you hit the surface, the cold rush envelops you, sending panic gripping your chest. Instinctively, you kick your legs, but the water pulls you under, and you flail in confusion. The world above disappears, and the muffled sounds of laughter and splashing fade into silence.

Just as you start to lose hope, a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back to the surface. You gasp for air, blinking the water from your eyes, and find yourself face-to-face with Max. His expression is intense, irritation etched on his features.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps, though his grip is steady and reassuring as he keeps you afloat.

You can’t help but laugh nervously, trying to shake off the fear. “I didn’t want to go in!” you manage to sputter, still clinging to him for dear life.

Max rolls his eyes, the frown returning, though it’s softer this time. “You need to stop thrashing around,” he says, his voice lower now.

As he helps you back onto the yacht, the warmth of the sun hits your damp skin once more. Laughter and cheers erupt from the group as they realize you’re okay, but Max’s presence is the only thing that matters to you in this moment. He doesn’t say anything; his expression remains unreadable as he sets you down.

You catch your breath, water dripping from your hair and running down your arms. “Thanks, Max,” you say, trying to brush off the embarrassment. His usual smirk is absent, and for a split second, you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he cares.

But as soon as you’re on the boat, he steps back, leaving you with the others. “Try not to drown next time,” he says, his tone flat as he pulls his shirt back on, the fabric clinging to his damp skin. It feels more like a reflex than a genuine jab, but you let it slide, laughing it off. “I’ll try my best.”

He turns away, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. You shake your head, trying to focus on the laughter around you as Jamie and Mila check to make sure you’re okay. “Really, I’m fine,” you assure them, even as your heart races from the close call.

Just like that, everyone goes back to normal. Lunch is served, and as the yacht heads back to the dock under the fading light, you’re the first one off, eager to touch solid ground once more. You don’t bid anyone goodnight; you’re all too tired for that. You head upstairs to your room, closing the door behind you and shrugging off your damp polo and swimsuit. You hop in the shower, rinsing the salt water off your skin.

After your shower, the soft sound of knocking pulls you from your thoughts. You wrap yourself in a towel and open the door to find Mila standing there, concern etched across her features.

“Hey, just wanted to check on you,” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Her eyes scan your face, searching for any signs of distress. “That fall looked pretty rough.”

You chuckle softly, waving it off. “I’m fine, really. Just a little embarrassed.”

Mila raises an eyebrow, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “You sure it’s not because of Max? I saw the way he pulled you out of the water. It looked pretty… intimate.”

The mention of Max sends a warmth flooding through you, one that you quickly dismiss. “Oh, please. He was just being a jerk, as usual.”

She smirks, crossing her arms. “Or maybe he just likes the attention.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, but a small part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it. “He’s just… Max. You know how he is.”

Mila studies you for a moment, trying to read between the lines. “Well, just think about it. He’s not always the way he acts, you know?”

With that, she leaves, and you find yourself lost in thought, her words echoing in your mind. What if Max really did care?

Later that night, curiosity gets the better of you. You stand in front of Max’s door, your heart racing as you knock softly.

“Come in,” he calls, and you push the door open cautiously. He’s lounging on his bed, scrolling through his phone, and for a moment, you’re struck by how at home he looks.

“Hey,” you say, your voice soft. “I just wanted to thank you… for earlier.”

Max looks up, a flicker of something in his gaze before he masks it with indifference. “You mean for saving your ass?” he quips, his smirk returning. “Don’t mention it.”

You roll your eyes, stepping further into the room. “You know, for someone who supposedly doesn’t care, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

His expression shifts, annoyance flickering across his features. “What do you want me to do? Throw you a parade for not drowning?”

“Maybe just a little acknowledgment would be nice,” you counter, crossing your arms defensively.

He stands, taking a step closer, and the air between you crackles with tension. “I don’t like how sweet you are,” he says, his tone sharp. “It’s annoying.”

“Annoying?” you challenge, feeling a rush of defiance. “Is that really all you’ve got? Because it sounds like you’re just scared of someone actually caring.”

Max’s eyes darken, and for a moment, you think he might snap back. But instead, he steps even closer, invading your personal space. “You think you’re so great, don’t you? All sunshine and rainbows, but it doesn’t work with me.”

Before you can respond, he closes the distance, and suddenly, his lips are on yours—fervent and demanding. His warmth envelops you, slightly chapped against your own, igniting a spark that sends a thrill coursing through your entire body. You’re caught off guard at first, but your instincts take over, and you melt into the kiss, feeling his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer.

As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He presses you against the door, his body firm and solid against yours, radiating heat that makes your pulse quicken. The kiss is intoxicating; every second stretches into eternity—his lips moving against yours in a dance that feels both wild and tender.

When you finally pull away, breathless, your heart races as you search his eyes. “Wait… Max—”

He leans in again, his breath mingling with yours, heavy with longing. “You taste sweet,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, a smirk tugging at his lips.

A rush of warmth floods your cheeks at his words. “Is that all you have to say?” you tease, a smile breaking through your fluster.

Max steps back slightly, his hands still resting on your hips as he watches you intently. “What do you want me to say? That I’m an asshole who can’t help but want you?”

The air between you buzzes with unspoken tension—a mix of frustration and attraction. You feel exhilarated yet confused, unable to ignore the thrill of being this close to him, the chemistry crackling like electricity.

“Maybe you could start by admitting you actually care,” you challenge softly, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Maybe,” he replies, a hint of seriousness in his tone before leaning in again, capturing your lips with his. This time, it’s even more intense; his hands grip your waist as he deepens the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he can’t get enough of you.

But as the moment stretches on, you pull back slightly, breathless. “Max—”

He leans in again, and you find yourself needing to physically stop him, your hands resting on his chest. “Wait, we can’t just—”

“Why not?” he presses, his voice low and needy, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

You’re both panting, caught in an electric moment. “You’re infuriating, you know that?” you say, a smile creeping onto your lips despite the chaos swirling around you.

Max smirks, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, but you like it.” He crashes his lips against yours once more, and as he pulls away, he runs his tongue along his lower lip, a boyish smirk breaking through. “Sweet like honey,” he teases, prompting you to laugh and tilt your head back. Without thinking, you pull him down by his shirt collar, kissing him again, lost in the moment.

#be4chywrites #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #mv33 #mv1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x fem!reader #mv1 x you #red bull formula 1 #mv1 imagine

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eiightysixbaby · 4 months ago

Text

two-player

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

turns out it’s a great idea to screw around with your coworker (2.9k)

cw: 18+ only SMUT. mean!eddie, bratty reader (really they’re just stubborn idiots pining for each other), degradation on the low (eddie calls r some names), use of petnames, spanking, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, lmk if I forgot any!

“I can’t fucking stand you,” you hiss, your chest colliding with metal.

You can hear the metallic jangle of Eddie’s belt buckle coming undone, his free hand pressing hard into your back, keeping you bent over the hood of his van.

He’d been driving you up the wall the entire day, your shift at the arcade seeming to never end. You were at each other’s throats the entire time, spitting insults back and forth like children until Keith had told you to shut the fuck up and go home - he'd close up shop himself - and not bother coming back until you could figure your shit out.

You were seething, tension at an all time high between the two of you when you stomped after him out to the dark, empty parking lot. You aren’t quite sure how you got here, you just know it involved Eddie pressing you up against the back wall of the building, his tongue tangling with yours.

A dry chuckle erupts from deep in Eddie’s throat. “Sure, sweetheart. I’m not that fond of you, either.”

You gasp when his hands tug your shorts down, your panties coming with them in one swift, harsh motion. His ring-clad hand comes down to smack your ass, kicking your feet apart with a heavy boot.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear it. His hands grope each cheek, spreading them to expose your tight little hole, the slick folds of your drenched pussy.

“Are you gonna keep ogling or actually do something, Munson?” you snark, letting out a startled squawk when he slaps your ass again.

“I’m gonna start by fucking that stupid little attitude right out of you,” he grits, gathering each of your hands and bringing your wrists together behind your back, holding them firmly. “Sound like a plan, sugar?” he asks, bending over your frame so that his mouth is inches from your ear.

You’re about to bite back when he swipes the middle and ring fingers of his free hand through your folds, rubbing back and forth through them.

“It’s real fucking cute,” he says, venomous, “that you wanna talk suuuch a big game, but here you are; getting soaked when I’ve barely even touched you.”

You shiver despite the heat of the night, craning your neck to try and get a better look at him. You try to shoot him daggers, but you’re aware you probably just look pathetic. It doesn't help that the fluorescent glow of the Palace Arcade sign was casting him in the prettiest oranges and blues, making him look ethereal.

He’s right, too. All the teasing, the arguing, the insults have done nothing but get you hot for him. You wanted to see how far you could push him, wanted to see if he’d cross into uncharted territory.

And cross he did.

He teases your entrance, swirling the pad of his finger around the slick hole, your back arching.

“Ed-dieee,” you whine, face going impossibly hot when you hear him laugh at you.

“What?” he asks, feigning nonchalance. “What do you want?”

You burn, jaw setting as he continues to tease you. “You know what,” you reply meekly.

“Do I? Hmm, I’m not sure. Nothing seems to be coming to mind…”

“Please,” you try, not wanting to have to say the words.

“Oh, so now you can be polite? That’s sweet, but I still wanna hear you say it,” he purrs. “Tell me what you want.”

Your jaw clenches, wanting to tell him off but thinking better of it. He won’t give you anything if you push him too hard. It’s harder than it should be to get the words out of your mouth, feeling petulant in your reluctance to tell him what you need.

“I want…” you say, exhaling sharply. “I want your fingers inside of me.”

“Oh, is that it?” he replies, and you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on that stupid face of his.

You nod, cheeks inflamed with humiliation. Nevertheless, your core throbs for him, a deep ache that needs to be satiated.

“Eddie…” you whine, so softly, as if you don’t want him to hear it.

But he does. “So needy,” he taunts, fingers continuing to tease your entrance. He draws circles around it, three times before finally giving in.

Two fingers intrude, pushing in to the knuckle. You inhale sharply, jaw hanging slack when his fingers start to curl. The sick squelching sounds he draws from your cunt are enough to make him swear under his breath, a muttered, “Fuck, so wet.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, it’s clear this isn’t his first rodeo. His fingers fuck you with a precision you haven’t known before. You’d secretly assumed that he’d be good, but this is mind-blowing.

If his fingers feel this good, you have to know how his cock feels.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you’re cumming around his thick digits, cream pooling around his rings.

“That’s it, baby, fuck. Such a god damn whore, cumming so quick,” he bites, but you can hear the condescension wavering in his tone.

You don’t say a word, your brain fuzzy, like the static on a television. Behind you, Eddie’s pulling his cock free from his boxers, and you can hear the rustle of movement when he shoves the clothing down his thighs.

One big hand reaches around to your face, palm open and waiting.

“Spit,” Eddie rasps, and your breath catches in your throat. It takes you a moment too long to compute for his liking. “Did I fucking stutter? Spit.”

You oblige, spitting in his hand, coating it with your saliva. You turn as best you can to watch him stroke his cock with his now slick palm, and a mewl escapes you at the sight of him. His cock is thick and glorious, the tip pink and leaking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting Eddie’s dark eyes.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he asks, smug.

You almost retort with something snarky, but there’s a part of Eddie’s expression that says he really wants your approval. There’s a part of you that simply wants to give him whatever he wants.

“Mhm,” you nod. “It’s so big, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he hisses.

He steps closer, pressing the head of his cock against your core. You whine, feeling yourself clench around nothing in desperate anticipation to take him. You bite down on your lip when he presses in, teeth sunk hard into the soft skin, fighting back the moan that threatens to break loose. It shouldn't feel this good, he's barely started fucking you, yet your entire body feels like a live wire.

Your hands clench into fists where he holds them behind your back, nails digging into the heels of your palms as he fully sheathes himself inside of you. A sharp whine is punched from your throat against your will, his cock splitting you open wide. His left hand digs into the curve of your hip, bracing himself as he starts to thrust at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Eddie, c'mon,” you say, desperate for him to fuck you fast, hard.

“Hm?” he hums, snapping his hips against your ass in a punctuated thrust.

You curse, letting the side of your face rest on the hood of his van. There's a tantalizing, slow drag of his cock pulling back out, making your body feel like it's on fire. You can feel how wet you are, the slick warmth beginning to drip down your inner thighs. The slight humiliation of the way Eddie has you exposed and vulnerable, the way he has you in the palm of his hand, makes your head spin and your skin burn.

Unable to take his devious pace, you huff in frustration. “Please, Eddie. Stop going so slow.”

His fingers squeeze, mean, into the meat of the junction where your hip meets your ass. “You're just never satisfied, are you?”

“I'm not fucking playing, Eddie. Come on. Are you gonna fuck me good or what?”

His nostrils flare, though you don’t see it. If you want to play this game, fine.

“You’re gonna regret that attitude when you can’t even walk during your shift tomorrow,” he snarls, bending his body over yours so that he’s speaking into your ear. “Don’t be a bitch.”

And you hate it — god, you hate it. The way his words go straight to your cunt, the way your walls squeeze his cock in desperation.

You whine in spite of yourself, cheeks going hot when you hear a triumphant puff of air leave Eddie’s nose.

He lets go of your wrists, a dull ache lingering where his fingers had wrapped around them. Both hands free, he grips each of your hips, holding you steady. He pulls his thick cock almost completely out of your needy pussy, before ramming entirely back in. A sharp moan is forced from your lungs, your hands trying and failing to find good purchase against the smooth surface of his van’s hood. Eddie gives you no time to adjust to his new tempo, falling into a quick pace seamlessly. Hands splayed flat on the metal, you prop yourself up on wobbly arms, your limbs feeling like goo.

Eddie’s a pro, his hips bucking against your ass with each deep stroke, the head of his cock pressing firmly into your sweet spot each time. This definitely isn’t his first time, and as good as it feels, it makes you a little bit jealous to think of some other girl in your position. You want him wrapped around your finger, begging on his knees for you and only you.

“Damn, sweetheart, this pussy was fucking made for me,” Eddie purrs. “Think she's been craving my cock for a while,” he says, squeezing your hips harder, the chunky rings on his fingers pressing almost painfully into the soft skin.

You let out a strangled whine, your legs feeling like they're on fire as he fucks you into oblivion. It's taking everything you have to stay standing, and his vulgar words only make your knees more weak.

“Come on, baby, tell me,” he goes on, his voice dropping an octave, husky and raw. “Tell me how long you've been waiting for this.”

Your teeth tug at your lip, embarrassed to reply. He's got you cornered, completely figured out, but admitting your secret desires for him is giving in to his ego.

He pulls his cock all the way out, the weeping tip nudging at your entrance. You whimper pitifully at the absence of him, and he tuts in disapproval.

“Ah-ah,” he leans in close again, the heat of his body over yours making you feel like molten lava. “You don't get what you want if you don't behave,” he speaks slowly, his hot breath on your ear. He rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, taunting you. “Tell me how long you've wanted me. How many nights you've spent with your fingers inside that poor, tight little cunt, wishing they were mine instead.”

You quiver at his command, your pussy throbbing for him as he continues to tease. You'd wanted him for far too long; moaned his name into the empty stillness of your bedroom on late lonely nights; fantasized about the softness of his mouth and the roughness of his hands; stared at him any chance you got at work when he wasn't looking. Or at least, you thought he wasn't looking.

You inhale shakily, Eddie's breathing audible behind you.

“I-I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you for so long. Since I started working here, since before then-” you whine, your voice high-pitched and pleading, begging him to give you what you want now that you've relented.

“Do you think of me?” he coos. “When you touch this pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Eddie. It's always you, always you,” you confess, gasping when he presses the head of his cock inside your aching walls.

“That’s right, baby. No one else could make you feel this good.” He slowly fills you, the sticky glide of his cock as it nestles deep making your brows furrow and your eyes shut tight.

He stills once he’s fully inside again, your breathing shallow as you anticipate his movement. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, surprising you, but in an instant he’s drawn back, standing upright where you can’t reach those plump lips you so badly long to kiss. Without warning he falls into a quick pace, fucking you harder than before, better than before, if at all possible.

“God. Y'know, sweetheart,” he says, breaking the white noise of the night around you. “It drove me fucking crazy how I could never get you out of my head. No matter what I did, couldn't stop thinking about you,” he continues, grunting with the effort of his thrusts. “You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thought of you,” he says, teeth gritted as he presses against your sweet spot. “Sometimes I'd even come out here and do it on my breaks, just couldn't fucking handle being around you. I've been dying to have you, for so long.”

Your jaw goes slack at his words, a silent moan frozen as you process it. All along it hasn’t just been you with a secret fantasy, no; he’s been right there with you the whole time. In another moment, a different scenario, you'd play back every too-long glance or lingering touch he'd given you in a different context, but right now he's making your head too fuzzy to think that hard.

“Eddie-” you pant, unable to continue. Words swirl in your brain but fail to form a coherent sentence, and you can only hope he's possessed a sudden ability to read your mind. That he can detect how much his words are affecting you.

You're soaking his cock, making each thrust slippery and smooth. You can hear the sick sounds of his balls slapping against your skin, your cunt squelching each time his cock fucks entirely into you.

“I'm, I'm gonna-” you stammer, voice shaky as you teeter on the edge.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. I've been waiting so long for it,” he commands, his voice a low rumble.

His movements don't falter, fucking you even as your legs shake and your walls clench hard around him, over and over. Your cries are incessant, moans and curses of his name into the black hole of twilight that surrounds you. His movements grow sloppier, his previous precision dwindling. Your body grows overstimulated quickly, each drag of his cock setting your insides ablaze.

“Shit, where do you want me to cum?” he asks, sounding nothing like he did before. An almost nervous edge to his tone, his cocky facade crumbling.

“Inside, Eddie, inside,” you rush out, your mouth parting in a gasp when he instantly spills inside of you; not a moment of hesitation.

His cock twitches, a quiet, drawn-out groan leaving his lips. His thrusts slow to an exhausted halt, his breathing ragged with effort.

Your surroundings seem to blur at the edges as you come back to some semblance of reality. He pulls out slowly, your cunt tightening once as if in attempt to keep him inside forever. You don't speak, too afraid that if you do, the whole moment will shatter. That everything he had said would turn out to be a lie, that this was all some joke, something he could hold over your head for the rest of forever.

You stand up straight, your back still towards him, bending to pull your pants back up. You hear him do the same, heavy breaths puffing out of his nose.

“You okay?” he asks finally, waiting for you to look at him, to speak, anything.

You take a shaky breath, relaxing yourself. “That depends,” you reply, turning to face him. You try your best to sound collected, unsure of how well you're really doing after the way he just ruined you.

“On?” He quirks a brow.

“Whether or not you were telling the truth. When- when you said you've been wanting me all this time.” Your voice comes out far breathier than you'd wanted, but you hold your ground, your face emotionless as you await his response.

Eddie's brows shoot up momentarily before softening, an expression you don't see on him often.

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, a hand reaching out to grab your waist, pulling you up against him, chest to chest. Your heart pounds and you wonder if he can feel it. “You have me in the palm of your hand,” he murmurs, leaning down to speak right into your ear. “I was just too much of a bitch to admit it.”

Goosebumps raise on your skin, your lips parting in a pleasant surprise at his statement. He draws back, deep brown eyes meeting yours.

“Well,” you say, still shaky. “I'm glad we got this sorted out, then.”

Eddie laughs, big and boisterous, so unlike that mean one he'd used before. It makes your heart swell, you want to reach out and grab his face, kiss him till he's breathless and reeling.

“Guess we could both stand to stop being so stubborn, huh?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a cheeky grin.

“Me? Stubborn? I'm not sure what you're talking about, Munson.”

His eyes narrow, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “I could go for round two right now, baby. Don’t test me.”

You crack, breaking into a laugh. “I’d actually really like to be able to walk during my shift tomorrow, and my chances of that are already slim, so can I take a rain check?”

He snorts, a playful roll of his eyes accompanying it. “Sure. A rain check. Just let me know when and where.”

“Preferably not in this parking lot.”

“Noted.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #divider by cafekitsune

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captainreecejames · 5 months ago

Text

Can't Have a Good Thing || My ex is a footballer LS2 edition

[masterlist][my ex series masterlist]

summary you go from dating an american footballer to an american driver

pairings ex!christian pulisic x reader, logan sargeant x reader

warnings probably a little anti pulisic but i still love my baby

notes pictures are from pinterest so thank you to all those lovely users (as I wrote this my english teacher from 11th grade came into my job and it was not fun!)

May 2023 ynusername posted -------

liked by cmpulisic, reece and others

ynusername final chelsea game of the season, love you guys

chelseafc awww we love you too yn ❤️ by author

cmpulisic always love having you there ↳ ynusername wouldn't want to be anywhere else

username1 look at my girl dawg, chelsea is embarrassing her ↳ username2 please, christian didn't even play

reece once a blue always a blue ↳ username3 NAH WHY IS THIS SO CRYPTIC ↳ username4 you can't say shit like this then leave DUDE

username5 that chrisyn interaction screams for help ↳ username6 i wouldn't be surprised if they're not dating anymore but trying to keep up appearances ↳ username7 breakup statement incoming ↳ username8 can we get fabrizio to comment on wag breakups please!! ↳ username7 lol can you imagine a here we go! breakup is official! peak comedy

cesarazpilicueta 💙 ↳ ynusername love you too capitan!

July 2023 real life ---------

It’s been a rough few months in the house for the two of you. Christian’s time at Chelsea was most likely coming to an end, and you had just started a new project at work, so your time was filled with that. Nights spent making dinner and laughing together turned to plates left in the microwave and lights out early. Mornings started with short wake up kisses to hardly whispered goodbyes.

In fewer words, the relationship was falling apart. You barely knew what was going on in each others lives anymore, it’s no surprise when he tells you he’s leaving Chelsea.

Chris is still in Florida with his family, enjoying the last few days off before preseason. You had been with him for the 4th of July, but needed to fly back to London almost immediately for a new project and you’re exhausted. When he Facetimes you it’s almost 11:30 at night and your still sitting in your home office, but with how excited Chris is, he can’t tell that you’re operating on extremely low levels of energy. You want to be excited for him, but you can see the writing on the wall.

“Hey babe.” You know what’s coming, but it doesn’t make the shock any less. “I’ve got some big news.” He waits for you to say something, but all you do is blink and nod. “AC Milan are going to sign me.” He waits again for you to say something. “Did you hear me? I’m leaving Chelsea.”

“Yeah, I heard you.” Your lack of enthusiasm confuses Christian.

“Then why aren’t you excited?”

Your apathy turns to frustration quickly and you shift in the chair. “Because, Christian, I’m not just going to blow up my life in London to follow you to a new city. I’ve got a job here and it’s going well. I don’t want to have to start all over again. Not to mention learning a whole new language. Have you considered how isolating that would be for me?”

“So what, I just rot at Chelsea because you don’t want to move?” He is now just as defensive as you, words biting at the holes that have formed in your relationship, making them grow.

“I didn’t say that!” You sit up even straighter, putting your phone down against the computer so it stands on it’s own.

“Well it sounds like you don’t want to leave.”

“I don’t want to pack up my life and move to a new country where I don’t know anyone.”

You could see the fight leave his body as he came to the same realization you did. “What’s going to happen to us?”

“I think we’re done Chris.” You can feel your heart break that last little bit with the words you say. You love Christian, but with everything you’ve gone through, it’s not enough.

twitter ---------

September 2023 real life ------

In one hand you held your phone, looking down at the details of your train back to London, in the other a hot chocolate to warm you up in the brisk wind of Oxford. It’s how you missed the body in front of you and ended up falling straight on your ass because of it, hot chocolate splashing onto your shirt.

“Fucking hell,” you whispered, pulling your shirt away from your body so it didn’t burn.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” said an American accent. You groaned in your head, not wanting to deal with this. “I should’ve been looking where I was going.” They put a hand in your face, gesturing to help you up, which you took.

“No, it was my fault, I was staring at my phone,” you told them as they pulled you up. He was strong, and also probably a little awkward as he was still holding your hand.

“Me too, so I really won’t let you take the blame.” His awkward smile was also cute, but you tried not to think that, it wouldn’t agree with your ‘no boys agenda.’ “Do you need another hot chocolate?” The cup was empty at your feet, making you wince.

“Yeah, probably another shirt too.” It’s at that point that he realizes he’s still holding your hand, and he drops it.

“Let me get you one.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You’re still very early for the train, but travel anxiety is terrible and you want to leave soon.

“I insist.” Something about his smile and red cheeks makes you say yes to him, and you’re really not sure why. “I’m Logan, by the way.” He’s leading you back into the line of the cafe, smiling at you still.

“I’m YN,” you tell him.

ynusername posted ---------

liked by logansargeant, benchilwell, and others

ynusername exploring oxford finally

bsfinstagram babe you run into any quidditch players ↳ ynusername bitch you know i'm swearing off athletes

username7 damn why are you so beautiful

samkerr 💞 ↳ ynusername ugh bestie i love you

pulisick10 'SWEARING OFF ATHLETES?' Christian mate pulisic what did you do!?! ↳ username8 that is so fucking harsh though like pulisic really did a number on our girl here ↳ pulisick10 ben chilwell still in the likes tho ↳ username8 nah her and ben are friends, like ben was always close with christian and just cause he left doesn't mean that she can't be friends still ↳ username8 also she's still good friends with the women's team ↳ pulisick10 well that's cause the women are better ❤️ by ynusername and bsfinstagram ↳ username8 NOT HER LIKING THAT but also won't argue with that

logansargeant at least the weather was good ↳ ynusername youre right, thank you english sun who comes out once in a blue moon ↳ bsfinstagram I'm questioning things ↳ ynusername well you shouldn't

username11 she's sworn off athletes but has a formula 1 driver in her comments... ↳ username12 fake bitch ↳ username13 two people can be friends right? ↳ username12 she breaks up with christian because of the distance but is talking a driver like he isn't gone more than half the year, she's definitely fake for that ↳ username13 how do you know that's why they broke up ↳ username14 she doesn't she's just being a hater ❤️ by ynusername ↳ username11 damn all this fighting on my comment thread?

username12 not yn liking so many comments, do you read them ↳ ynusername gotta appreciate a good laugh ↳ username13 yn stalks her comments like a real one should

twitter ---------

yn's messages -----------

November 2023 yn's messages ------------

real life --------

Your hotel room is kind of a mess, with clothes thrown around and various pieces of paper on the floor. It’s not really a surprise to Logan, even though he hasn’t known you very long.

After a long day exploring New York City in fairly okay weather, the two of you are relaxing in your hotel room before dinner. “Can I ask you something?” Logan asks. He’s currently sitting in the desk chair, feet propped up on the desk and head hung back.

“Go ahead.” You’re on your bed, laying like a starfish.

“Would you say yes to going on a date with me?” You sit up straight, staring at him with wide eyes as he doesn’t move.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“No, I’m asking if you’d say yes to me asking you on a date.” His clarification makes you narrow your eyes, but he still doesn’t move.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

That gets him moving, turning the chair to look at you. “So would you say yes or no?”

“I’d say no right now.”

“What about in a month?”

“In a month, when we’re both back in England, I’d probably say yes.”

“Cool,” he shrugs, going back to putting his feet on the desk. “Then I’ll ask you again in January.”

ynusername posted ---------

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon and others

ynusername look who came to visit

lilymhe booooo bring me next time ↳ ynusername you're welcome whenever, he invited himself ↳ logansargeant literally not true you asked me to come ↳ ynusername stop lying! i wanted thanksgiving but you have this job that makes you fly across the world to drive a stupid car or something

oscarpiastri look at him jumping for joy for you ↳ ynusername yeah well, what can i say, I'm a dream come true

bsfinstagram ahhhh just under 2 weeks until you come home!! ↳ ynusername I missed you so much ↳ bsfinstagram debrief over wine incoming!

username18 nope she is definitely dating this driver ↳ username19 it's so weird cause like if she really broke up with christian because of distance then isn't this just so much worse ↳ username20 i don't think they broke up just because of distance, things were probably weird for a couple of months before hand cause she wasn't going to as many mens games, she was definitely going to the women's games though.

timothyweah did you get a hotdog from the hotdog guy? ↳ ynusername yes... why? ↳ timothyweah cause they're good and i just want to make sure that you did ↳ ynusername okay timmy

chelseafcw don't stay too long we miss you ↳ ynusername aww, i miss you guys too

May 2024 ynusername posted--------

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

ynusername Miami you can be pretty but you're on my shit list

landonorris no whyyyyy ↳ ynusername idk might have something to do with my boyfriend dnfing at his home race. ↳ landonorris oh, okay ↳ ynusername but i guess congrats on your win ↳ landonorris thanks ynnnnn! ↳ oscarpiastri someone is still drunk

logansargeant ohhh he's handsome ↳ ynusername yeah and he's got a jealous ass girlfriend so beware ↳ logansargeant love you too babe

username23 finally confirmed that they're dating only seven months later

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant smau #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smau #f1 smau #read #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant #christian pulisic x ex!reader #my ex is a footballer series #danielle writes

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moonlightpetalz6 · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 1 (Praise Kink)

Character: Sebastian (Stardew Valley)

Reader: Fem Reader!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Praise kink, smut, pet names, unprotected sex, harsh language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cigarettes,

Wc: 4,795

A/n: AAAAAH Finally I can start posting these! anyways I really hope you enjoy this story! I tried my best to label all the warnings, so I apologize if I missed any! Anyways! I fucking love Sebastian in Stardew he was the first one I ever married in game!

______________________________________________________________

"If you keep glaring like that, you'll get wrinkles." You scoffed, bringing your drink to your lips as you glanced at your friend Leah, who happily munched on a salad, giving you a playful grin as she pointed her fork in the direction your eyes had been staring daggers at just seconds ago. At the other end of the Stardrop Saloon stood your recent ex-boyfriend Sam and his usual gang, except this time there was someone new with them. Your eyes took in the sight of your ex's arm tightly wrapped around Penny's shoulders as he went and kissed the top of her head, causing your heart to ache as you slightly cringe at the sight. "He's such a dick, right?" Leah questioned, tilting her head towards Gus, who silently cleaned one of his glasses. Gus opened his eyes, glancing from the two girls over to the group of young adults whose laughs echoed throughout his salon.

"Would you like another drink, Y/n? on the house?" He questioned, getting ready to give the farmer another cup. You took one last look at the new couple before letting out a deep sigh while pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling a slight headache approaching. "No, I think I should start heading back home. I have to wake up early to help Pierre with some new sales ideas he has." The two let out small sympathetic 'ahs' at your words while giving nods of understanding. You carefully rummage through your jeans, pulling out what you owe and slapping it on the counter as you wave goodbye to everyone who acknowledged your exit. You carefully swing the door open, closing your eyes as the night breeze hits your slightly flushed cheeks, letting out a contempt sigh as you lean against the Saloon, staring up into the night sky.

'Come on Y/n it's been like two months now, get over it.' You thought, annoyed with your feelings. 'Maybe I should try dating again? I am pretty busy, though, with Winter coming in just a few months.' Letting out another deep sigh, you kick yourself off the wall, shoving your hands in your jeans pockets as you turn to return to the farm. Before you could even take the first step back, the doors to the Saloon opened as a familiar figure stepped out in front of you, causing you to stop all movement. "Oh, you're still here, Y/n?" Sebastian questioned, a cigarette between his lips as he looked down at you, slightly surprised to see your form next to him. You took a small step back as your body shifted, showing discomfort at the man's sudden appearance. Sebastian didn't say anything as he eyed you silently while lighting his cigarette.

"Uh…hey, yeah, I was just about to head back." You mumbled, unable to make eye contact with your ex's best friend. Sebastian hummed his eyes, boring holes into your unaware figure as he let out a puff of smoke while carefully leaning against the Saloon. "Is that right? You want to keep me company for a bit?" His words catch you by surprise as you look up at his mouth, slightly open in awe. Sebastian gives you a barely noticeable smirk, amused with your reaction, as he raises a brow, tilting his head down to get a better look at you. "What? Just cause you and Sam are no longer together doesn't mean I have to stop talking to you, does it?" He scoffed, eyes narrowing as he clicked his tongue. You grew nervous with that as you quickly waved your hands out while stuttering over your words as you tried to devise excuses.

"T-that's not! I- well, it's just you guys are so close and…um…I… I'm sorry." You admit defeat as you bend over from guilt. Sebastian just let out a small chuckle while ruffling your head as he let out another cloud of smoke. "Good to see you haven't changed since we last talked." He mumbled while motioning for you to join him against the wall. After a moment of hesitation, you decide to entertain your old friend, having not talked to anyone besides Leah since the breakup. "You're right…I haven't changed at all." You admitted while looking down at the ground, tapping your feet together. Sebastian's eyes narrow as he takes in your pitiful form, his chest tightening with disgust as he recalls how you used to smile whenever he saw you with Sam. An awkward silence falls between you, neither knowing what to say to the other after having not spoken in two months.

"Did you see Sam and Penny?" Finally, Sebastian addresses the two people filling your vision the entire night. He doesn't take your eyes off your form, watching you stiffen at the mention of his best friend and new girlfriend. He hesitates momentarily, debating whether he should hit you with the harsh reality of their situation or leave you to your deluded thoughts. "... They're dating now." He finally starts watching as your body trembles, causing his jaw to clench as he feels a bit of rage cloud his vision, not liking the effect his best friend still had on you. Sebastian bites his lip before going to continue with his words. "They've been dating since-!" His words cut off, eyes widening in shock as he feels your petite, but rough hands press against his mouth as you stand on your tiptoes, your body trembling.

"Please… don't continue, I u-understand." Your voice sounded so pathetic and broken to the programmer as he listened to the minor hiccups that left your lips. "Hey, are you crying?" He mumbles carefully, going and caressing your cheek, feeling like his heart was stabbed with a pickaxe when he handles your damp skin under his fingers. Sebastian had only ever seen you cry once during the after-party of one of their band's gigs. Everyone was out cold from partying too hard, but Sebastian had woken up to use the bathroom, his head swirling from the alcohol as he staggered towards the bathroom. When he reaches out to grab the doorknob, he is shocked to see it swing open, his sleepy and intoxicated eyes locking with your surprised, tear-filled ones. "...Sam broke up with me." After staring at each other for an eternity, you whispered to Sebastian.

Scowling at the memory, Sebastian cups both sides of your face, carefully rubbing his thumbs in circles across the bags under your eyes, most likely due to the lack of sleep you have suffered since the breakup. "Hey…hey shhh. Don't cry, Y/n, oh come on, princess, look at me." He cooed, his face inches from yours as he made eye contact with you. "Oh Y/n, you poor thing…geez, why didn't you come to me if you were suffering so much?" You couldn't say anything to the man before you as you cried, feeling your throat ache with each pathetic sob. You look up at Sebastian, his eyes no longer holding that annoyed and lazy look this time; they're much softer and filled with love and compassion as he gives you a small smile. "I-I'm sorry, Sebastian, I don't mean to," He cuts you off, pulling you into a tight embrace as he carefully rubs circles along your back.

"Shhh, don't apologize, Y/n." He whispered, nuzzling his chin against the top of your head as he took in your scent, his heart racing as he gave your body a small squeeze of reassurance. "Just cry it out for me, okay?" He asked, a small smile ghosting his lips as he felt your body starting to relax. "There we go, that's a good girl." As the words left his lips, you heard the door to the Saloon open, causing whoever just left to hear everything. You go to pull away from Sebastian's comforting embrace, not wanting to have people get the wrong idea. However, his grip suddenly tightens as he rests a hand on your head, pressing your face further into his chest. "Y/n? Sebastian?" Your eyes widened at the familiar voice, your body stiffening as your heartbeat against your ribs. Sebastian rubs circles on your lower back once again as he lets out a lazy hum while looking over at his best friend and Penny standing just inches away from the two of you.

"Oh hey…you two going home for the night?" He asked with a bored tone, utterly different from the gentle, caring one he had with you moments ago. Your mind starts to wander off as you think back to his words from earlier, finally processing. 'Princess? Good girl?' You thought your cheeks were quickly heating up as steam practically danced from your head, heart pounding as embarrassment overcame you. 'W-what the hell was with that?! A-and this current situation…oh no, Sam's going to get the wrong idea-!' Your rapid thoughts are put to a dead halt as you feel Sebastian's hand suddenly slide down to your ass, his palm gently rubbing circles along the squishy flesh before giving it a slight squeeze causing you to jump as you hid deeper into his chest. "Y/n? Are you okay?" You heard Sam question with that sickening sweet tone he would use when you used to date, indicating he was worried for you.

"She's fine, just had a bit too much to drink tonight, right, Y/n?" You felt Sebastian dip his head close to your ear, his warm breath hitting your already flushed skin as he quietly whispered his following words. "Right, sweet girl? Be a good girl for me, and nod your head so he can beat it." He growled the last part as his grip on your ass tightened, causing a small whimper to leave your lips while the man chuckled. You do as told while slightly peaking past Sebastian's arms, your eyes still teary from your minor breakdown moments ago. "Y-yeah, Sebastian's right." This earned you a small reward as you felt his thumb carefully rub circles along your hip. You said nothing after that, internally praying for the two to leave so you could hurry up and return to the farm. Your thoughts soon drifted as you inhaled the smell of Sebastian's hoodie; he smelled of cigarettes and motor oil, hinting that he must have been working on his bike at some point today. You felt your mind get fuzzy as you nuzzled closer to him, causing the man to stiffen as his arms squeezed around you, resting his chin on your head again.

Sam stood there momentarily before nodding, a nervous smile crossed his face. "Ah, I see! I was just about to walk Penny home. Do you want me to take Y/n back to the farm for you?" Sam asked, his eyes only leaving your form to glance at his best friend for a second. "Nah, I'm going to take her back home. You worry about getting your girl home." Sebastian laughed, though you felt his annoyance as he tapped a finger against your skin. Sam hesitated momentarily before complying when he felt Penny tug on his sleeve. With a slight frown, Sam nods his head while giving you both one last look. "Right…get home safe then." The two walked off, leaving you and Sebastian alone outside the Saloon. You listened as he let out a deep sigh, his entire body seeming to relax as he carefully rubbed his hand up and down your back while letting out a small laugh. "Finally, I thought he'd never leave." he joked, arms still holding you close. You felt yourself growing hot as you carefully tried to pull away.

"U-um, Sebastian, I should get home now." You whispered, avoiding looking up at him. Sebastian hummed, tilting his head to look down at you, his eyes narrowing as a lazy smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, that's right, I have to get my good girl home~" He cooed, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him in shock, your mouth open to shout who knows what at him. Still, he was ready for this as he went and pressed his lips to yours, one hand carefully capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger as he tilted your head up to deepen the kiss. At first, your body is stiff from shock, your mind trying to process how all this was happening as your wide eyes stared straight into Sebastian's narrowed eyes. He smirked against the kiss as he pressed your body closer, his free hand trailing up and down your side, causing your body to relax as you slowly gave in to the feeling.

The two of you slowly pull away from the kiss, a small string of saliva still attaching your lips as he presses his forehead against yours, his hand carefully caressing your cheek. "Are you lonely, baby?" He whispers, brushing his lips against yours, his eyes filled with desire as he slides his thumb down your lower lip, watching the plump skin tug with his digit, causing him to lick his lips. "Do you want me to take care of you, sweet girl? I can fix that lonely feeling, Y/n." His words cause you to shiver as a small whimper leaves your lips, tears filling your eyes as you feel your chest swell with joy at his praise, your ears wanting to hear more of it. "Come on baby…tell me what you want like a good girl." He kisses along your jaw as his hands ravish over your squirming body, eagerly awaiting your response. You bite your lip as you try to think of the consequences if you take the man in front of you home. You look up at him with a slight pout on your lips as he gives you a lazy smirk; however, his eyes hold nothing, but admiration mixed with lust as he stops, his hands gripping your hips with one last squeeze. "What's wrong, princess?" He whispered, feeling your hands grip at his hoodie.

"Sebastian I…I want you to take me home."

_______

As soon as the door to your house shut, Sebastian was all over you. His hands roamed around your body as he slid them up your shirt, kneading at your encaged breasts as he breathed a deep sigh into your ear. "S-sebastian, wait! We just walked in!" You cried, trying to push him away but failing as he went and pressed your front against the wooden floor, grinding against your ass as he leaned over you, licking the shell of your ear. "I'm sorry, princess, but I can't wait anymore. You're just too fucking cute." He growled, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he unclipped your bra, watching your breasts bounce with each grind of his hips. "So, fucking perfect princess." He whispers, going to pinch at your hardened nipples, earning a slight squeal out of you as your hips move back against his, causing him to bite his lip at the sudden friction.

"Fuck do you like that Y/n? Does my sweet baby girl have sensitive nipples? Do you like me playing with them between my fingers like this?" He laughs as he gives a rough pinch to them, causing your back to arch as a low moan escapes your lips. "Y/n, do you want to know a secret?" He whispers while flipping you onto your back, making sure to grab each of your legs as he wraps them around his waist, pressing the bulge in his pants against your clothed pussy, a slight blush on his cheeks as he looks down at you with a lustful gaze. "I've always wanted you. From the moment you moved here, I wanted to make you such a good girl who I could spoil." He admitted while sinking to leave kisses from your neck towards your chest as he carefully started sucking on one breast, an intense shiver running through his body as he listened to your moans, feeling you squirm underneath him.

"Sam didn't deserve to have you princess." He moans his teeth, lightly biting the sensitive bud, causing you to let out a small cry, bucking your hips up to meet his own, causing him to chuckle as he pulls away from your breast with a small pop before sitting up straight. "Such a good girl~" He purrs while slowly pulling down your jeans, his lips trailing kisses down your thigh to your ankle as he lets out a small gasp, his eyes locking with the wet spot soaking through your panties, just begging for him to lick it all up. "Such a good girl, Y/n…" He whispers while sinking his head between your thighs, pressing a small kiss against the slick-coated fabric, causing your pussy to twitch as you watch him with hooded eyes, small pants of anticipation leaving your lips. "How long has it been, princess?" He whispers before dragging his tongue up and down the fabric slowly and tormentingly. "When was the last time someone made this pretty pussy of yours feel so good?" he growled while tearing the material out of the way, his tongue invading every inch of your dripping hole.

Your eyes shoot open as you slap a hand over your mouth, a deep groan leaving your lips at the sudden pleasure jolting throughout your body as your muscles tense up. "F-fuuuuuuck." You cry, a hand reaching out to grab at his dark locks. He grabs your wrist, stopping your movement with a slight chuckle as he pulls away from your pussy. Your juices make his mouth messy as he slowly licks his lips, shaking his head. "Uh uh~ answer my question, princess…when was the last time a guy was inside you?" He leans over your body, lips inches from yours, slowly slips a finger past your folds, rubbing teasing circles around your clenching hole. You whine from the act while wiggling your hips, wanting to feel the digit deep inside you. "Come on, baby~ Just answer my question, and I'll reward you like the good girl you are." He teased, eyes clouded with lust as he tugged at his pants with his free hand, letting out a small groan from being so pent up.

You look at him with a slight pout as he bites his lip, almost reaching his breaking point from how adorable you looked underneath him. "S-since Sam and I dated…I haven't fucked anyone else, so please…mmh…please make me feel good, Sebby~" You made sure to drag out the little nickname hoping it would give you some reaction, and boy, were you right. Sebastian clenched his teeth together, eyes narrowing as they clouded with pure desire as he licked his lips. "Since Sam, huh?" He asks a hum towards the end. Your eyes widen as your mouth forms an o when you feel his rough and lengthy finger sink deep inside you, causing your back to arch as you grip his biceps, watching his eyes travel down to his hand. "Then my poor baby hasn't been satisfied in so long…" he whispers before sliding another finger inside your needy hole, watching as his fingers go in and out each time, coated in a new layer of your beautiful juices.

"You're doing such a good job baby, oh such a good fucking job." he moans, watching as your body squirmed underneath him while feeling you needily clenching around his fingers, causing his cock to twitch in his pants as he growls, biting into the crook of your neck. "Princess, look at me, sweetheart." He breathes while carefully adjusting your gaze onto him. "Did you know he used to brag about you all the time?" He confessed, eyes locking with your clouded ones as he slowly freed himself from his pants, a slight hiss leaving his lips as his cock sprang against his chest. "He used to tell me all the time how sexy you were��" You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear the man fingering you talk about how your ex used to praise you to others, finding yourself disgusting for getting aroused.

"He was right but failed to mention how cute you are. Such a cute and obedient pussy~" He sang, a cocky smile on his face as he watched your body shiver underneath him, watching your eyes tear up as your pussy clenched around his fingers, indicating that you had found your release. Sebastian whispers sweetly into your ear as he slows down his fingers, still pumping them through your orgasm. "That's it, princess…such a good girl for me~" he praised while placing kisses all over your cheek as you frowned, trying to get the words to leave your mouth between heavy breaths. "I-i'm not… I'm disgusting." You whimpered, allowing your inner thoughts to come out. Sebastian frowned at this as he went and pulled your legs over his shoulders, causing you to squeak as he removed your limp body closer to him. "W-what are you doing?" You cried, still trying to come down from your orgasm as you pushed at his abdomen.

Sebastian says nothing as he slowly slides his tip along your wet folds, watching the juices mix with his precum. "He's tried to ruin you…" he mumbles while positioning himself against your throbbing hole, his eyes slowly locking with yours as he grits his teeth. "Be a good girl for me, okay princess? You'll be my pretty little slut and take it all, right?" He smiles at his words while capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss before sliding his cock into your tight hole, causing you to whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, a few tears escaping from your eyes. Sebastian groans, his rough hands sliding up and down your hips reassuringly before pulling away his brows knit together as he kisses the corner of your lips. "So good, Y/n…such a good girl for me, princess." He mumbled, slowly moving his hips as he watched each pleasurable expression cross your face at the feeling of him inside you.

"S-sebbyyyy," You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck while needily placing sloppy kisses along his neck, causing him to laugh in adoration, loving how cute you were being for him. "What is it, princess? What does my sweet girl want me to do?" He happily lends you his ear, so happy to hear you moaning out his name like you did so many times in his fantasies when he sat at home jerking himself off in the basement. You look up at him, lips swollen from him kissing you so aggressively, cheeks flushed as a bit of drool slipped from the corner of your mouth. "Please move! I wanna feel good!" You whined desperately, causing a soft and caring smile to appear on his face. "As you wish, princess." He whispered before pulling away from you, legs still tossed over his shoulders as his grip on your hips tightened.

You gasped and moaned as his thrusts became more aggressive, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your squishy walls filling your mind as you tossed your head back, your loud and pitiful moans echoing throughout the quiet and dark house. Sebastian looks down at you, a slight blush on his cheeks, his breathing heavy as he watches your fucked out expression, his cock twitching inside you as he brings one of his hands to your chest, giving a squeeze as he desperately tries to thrust as deep as he could inside you. "Smile for me, baby~ ah, come on smile! Fuck show me that pretty smile, baby~" He whined, watching as you brought your head to face him, your expression causing him to swallow back a loud moan as he felt himself about to cum at just the sight. You looked up at him; the moonlight barely lit the area, showing your eyes shining from the tears of pleasure that had dampened your soft skin. Your cheeks were so flushed as drool slid down your chin when your lips tugged up into a fucked-out smile as you reached your arms up to cup his face.

Sebastian looked down at you with wide eyes, his mouth open in awe as he felt his chest swell with nothing but love for the farm girl. "Sebby~ Am I a good girl? I did as told please tell me I'm a good girl!" You whined, feeling his cock hit that one spot you needed as you reached your second orgasm causing your tongue to stick out at him, his eyes turning feral. "Fuck princess…yeah, you're such a good fucking girl, alright baby." He suddenly pulls out, causing you to let out a needy whine, having not had enough of his cock inside you just yet. "Whose dick do you like more princess? Mine or Sam's?" He suddenly questions before slamming his entire length back inside your sensitive pussy, ignoring that you had just released for the second time that night.

"It's mine right princess?" He growls, watching your tits bounce up and down at his faster pace. You can't say anything too fucked out by the intense pleasure you were receiving. Sebastian grunts and groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he feels his cock wanting to paint your walls so pretty with his cum. "Come on baby say my dick is better. Come on, say it! Say it, oh god, say it with those pretty lips of yours, Y/n~" He whines, sticking his tongue out as he captures your lips in another sloppy kiss, listening to your lewd juices echoing throughout the house, his mind going crazy. He pulls away from the kiss, watching the strings of saliva fall back onto you, his heartbeat pumping through his ears as he pried your mouth open with two fingers.

"Say it for me, princess, and I'll give you such a good reward~ Just say it, baby. Come on, be my good, naughty girl~" He whined, desperate for you to say the words that would show him you no longer belonged to his best friend and that you were now finally his perfect girl who would do anything to be praised by him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you start feeling the knot in your stomach for the third time that night. The words barely leave your lips above a whisper, but he can still hear it. "Y-Your dick, Sebbyyyy! Mm, I like your dick more, Sebastian!" A deep growl leaves his throat as he presses his hips right against yours feeling himself ejaculating into your messy pussy, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels your walls clenching around him. You lay there too fucked out of your mind as you felt his cum filling your insides, a happy smile crossing your face as you watched Sebastian unconsciously try to push any cum that leaked out back inside when he pulled out.

"That's my good girl~ so perfect for me~" He muttered while picking you up bridal style, leaving kisses along your face as he took you to your bed, carefully laying you down as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face. You hummed, tired eyes looking up at him as you leaned into his touch. "I'll grab you some water," he mumbled, giving you another kiss before heading towards the kitchen. As he patiently waited for the glass to fill, he noticed his phone going off, causing him to flip it open and look at the name of the person trying to call him.

Sam

"Yeah?" Sebastian muttered, holding the phone up to his ear as he stopped the running water, making sure to have a tight grip on the cup, not wanting to break it. "Hey, I was calling to see if you made it home yet! I know you said you were taking Y/n home earlier. Did she get back safe?" Sam's voice laughed from the other end, instantly asking questions. Sebastian enters the room, stopping when he sees your sleeping face pressed against the pillow. He smiles quietly, walking over to you and placing the cup on your nightstand. "Yeah, we returned to her place a while ago." He admitted waiting to see if his best friend caught the fact he said 'we' instead of just you. Sam hesitates for a second, causing a slight smirk on Sebastian's lips as he awaits the blond's following words.

"Are you still at her place then?'

Sebastian just hummed as he sat on the edge of your bed, carefully playing with a strand of your hair as he looked down at you, eyes filled with love.

"Of course, I'd still be at her house. After all, she's my girl now~."

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pucksandpower · 1 month ago

Text

Mirror Mirror

Day 12 → Mirror Sex 💋 Oscar Piastri

Warnings: 18+ content and body image issues

Kinktober Masterlist

Oscar swings open the door of the apartment, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The training session ran longer than he expected, and every muscle in his body aches with that familiar, satisfying burn. His shirt sticks to his back as he steps inside, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

“Hey, I’m home!” He calls out, already loosening his shoes by the door.

There’s no immediate response, just the quiet hum of life within the walls. The soft sound of typing, a quick, anxious tap-tap-tap, echoes from the living room.

Oscar frowns. “You in there?”

He rounds the corner and catches sight of you sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on your knees, fingers moving at a furious pace across the keyboard. There’s something about the way you're hunched over the screen that makes him pause. Your shoulders are tense, like you’re trying to shield the screen from view, your eyes darting up only when he steps into the room.

You slam the laptop shut so fast it nearly snaps.

His brows furrow, eyes narrowing as he approaches. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” you blurt out, standing up quickly, a little too quickly, the laptop clutched in your hands as if it’s a lifeline. “Just … work stuff.”

Oscar doesn’t buy it for a second. “Work stuff?” He takes another step forward, his voice low, suspicious. “Since when do you hide work stuff from me?”

You swallow hard, eyes darting toward the bedroom as if you’re calculating the distance. “It’s nothing, Oscar. Just let it go.”

But he doesn’t. He’s not the kind of guy who lets things slide, especially when something feels off. And this? This feels way off.

Before you can react, he reaches out, fingers closing around the edge of the laptop, pulling it out of your grip with a swift, practiced motion. You make a sound of protest, stepping forward to try to grab it back, but he’s already moving, holding it up and out of your reach.

“Oscar, please,” you say, your voice tight with panic now. “Just don’t-”

Too late. He flips the screen open, eyes scanning the tabs that fill the screen.

Silence.

Plastic surgeons. Breast augmentation. Rhinoplasty. Procedures. Prices. Clinics in Monaco.

Oscar’s jaw clenches. His entire body stiffens as he scrolls through the endless pages of information, his mind trying to piece together what he’s seeing, trying to make sense of it.

He looks up, his voice low, controlled, but there’s a sharp edge to it now. “What the hell is this?”

You’re standing there, rooted to the spot, hands trembling slightly at your sides. Your eyes are wide, like you’ve been caught doing something unspeakable, something you’ve been desperately trying to keep hidden.

“I-” you start, but your voice cracks. You look away, like you can’t stand to meet his gaze, like his disappointment, his shock, is too much to bear.

He doesn’t move. He just stands there, staring at you, his grip tightening on the laptop, like he’s trying to hold onto some version of reality that isn’t unraveling right in front of him. “Why?” He asks, his voice still low, but now there's something almost pleading in it. “Why are you looking at this?”

You blink, eyes glistening with tears that haven’t yet fallen. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s like the words are stuck in your throat. Finally, you force them out, barely a whisper. “Because … I don’t … I don’t look like them.”

Oscar frowns, confused. “Like who?”

“The other girls,” you say, your voice breaking now. “The other girlfriends. The WAGs. I’ll never … I’ll never look like them.”

Oscar just stares at you for a long moment, completely blindsided. “What are you talking about?”

You let out a shaky breath, finally looking at him, your eyes pleading for him to understand. “I see them, Oscar. Every time we go to a race, every time I’m at the paddock. They’re all so … perfect. Their bodies, their faces … they all look like they belong there. Like they’re meant to be with someone like you.”

He feels something twist painfully in his chest, something dark and heavy that he wasn’t prepared for. “And you think you don’t?”

You shake your head, blinking away tears. “I don’t. I mean, look at me. I’m not … I’m not like them.”

Oscar sets the laptop down on the coffee table, the sound of it hitting the wood sharp and final. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, trying to push through the wave of disbelief that’s crashing over him. He steps closer to you, his hands reaching out, grabbing your arms gently but firmly, like he needs to hold you steady, like he needs to make sure you don’t slip away from him.

“Are you serious?” His voice is rough now, the controlled calm slipping. “You think you need to change something? For what? To look like them? To, what, fit in?”

You don’t answer. You can’t.

“I can’t believe you’d even think this. I can’t believe you …” His voice trails off, and he releases your arms, stepping back like he needs the space to breathe, to think. "You’re not … them. You’re you. You’re the person I wake up next to every day, the person I chose. And you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You think I care about … what? If you fit some stupid image of what a WAG is supposed to look like?”

You shake your head, but you’re still crying, silent tears that slide down your cheeks, and Oscar feels like his heart is breaking in a way he’s never known before. He steps closer again, softer this time, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your shoulders slump, and you wipe at your face, frustrated with yourself, with the tears, with the words that won’t stop spilling out. “Because I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to … fix it, or say something just to make me feel better. It’s my problem, not yours.”

“No,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “No, it’s not just your problem. It’s our problem. You’re my girlfriend. What affects you affects me, too. How could you think that changing yourself like that would fix anything?”

You look at him then, really look at him, and it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time, like you didn’t expect this from him, this depth, this intensity.

“I just …” you start, and then falter, shaking your head. “I just feel like … I’m not enough.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He’s never heard you say anything like that before, never thought you could feel that way. He takes another step closer, his hands finding yours, holding them tight. “You’re more than enough. You always have been.”

Oscar’s voice is steady, but there’s a fire in his eyes now, something burning there, something fierce. “You don’t need to change a damn thing about yourself. Not for me. Not for anyone.”

You let out a shaky breath, tears still spilling down your cheeks, and he reaches up, brushing them away with the pad of his thumb, his touch gentle, careful. “You’re perfect the way you are. I need you to see that. I need you to believe that.”

You close your eyes, leaning into his touch, and for a moment, the world feels quiet again, like the storm that’s been raging inside you has finally begun to settle.

Oscar’s jaw tightens, and he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear. He presses his lips to the top of your head, murmuring against your hair, “I love you, just the way you are.”

And as he holds you, as the silence stretches between you, he makes a silent promise to himself. He’s going to show you. Every day. Until you see yourself the way he sees you.

The most beautiful woman in the world.

***

Oscar watches you sleep beside him, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the peaceful expression on your face. In the dim light filtering through the curtains, he can still see the faint traces of yesterday’s conversation lingering in your features. The vulnerability in your voice when you said you weren’t enough echoes in his head, and it’s all he can think about.

You had fallen asleep easily, but Oscar couldn’t. His mind had been racing, going over every word you said, every tear that slipped down your cheek. You didn’t see yourself the way he saw you, and that truth made his chest ache in ways he didn’t know were possible.

You stir slightly, your hand curling around the edge of the pillow, your face turning away from him as you sink deeper into sleep. His fingers itch to touch your cheek, but he holds back, not wanting to wake you.

Instead, he slips out of bed, moving silently across the room and into the hallway. He has to do something. He can’t just let you go on feeling this way, believing that you aren’t enough, that you need to change yourself to measure up to some imaginary standard.

His phone buzzes in his hand, and he glances down at the notification. It’s an email — one of the many he sent in the middle of the night, after tossing and turning with frustration and resolve. It’s the response he’s been waiting for.

Oscar’s thumb hovers over the screen for a second before he taps the email open. He skims it quickly, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The installation can happen today.

It’s a risky plan, but Oscar’s never been one to shy away from a challenge. He’s already planned every detail down to the minute, ensuring that everything will be in place before you come home from work. The hardest part was keeping this a secret — and making sure the logistics didn’t fall through.

Money, thankfully, speeds things up.

Oscar pads back into the bedroom, careful not to make a sound as he crawls into bed beside you. His body is buzzing with excitement now, anticipation humming under his skin. He pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your waist, and rests his chin on your shoulder.

You let out a sleepy murmur, shifting slightly in his arms, and he presses a kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering there.

“Good morning,” you mumble, your voice thick with sleep.

“Good morning.” His voice is soft, but there’s an energy behind it that you don’t seem to catch. Not yet.

You blink a few times, still disoriented from sleep, and roll over to face him. "You're up early."

“Just couldn’t sleep,” he says with a small smile. “You have work today?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to go in for a meeting,” you reply, rubbing your eyes. “Shouldn’t be too long.”

Oscar nods, trying to keep his excitement in check. “Good, good. I’ll probably just do some stuff around here. Get a workout in.”

You stretch, still half-asleep, and he watches you with a soft smile. He wonders if you’ll notice the change when you get home, or if it’ll take a little prompting. Either way, the plan is in motion, and there’s no going back now.

***

As soon as you leave the apartment, Oscar is a man on a mission. He paces the living room, waiting for the delivery crew to arrive. He checks his phone constantly, looking at the notifications from Life360 to track your movements. He doesn’t have much time, and every minute feels like it’s slipping through his fingers.

Finally, there’s a knock at the door.

He practically sprints to open it, greeting the installation team with an eager wave. "You guys are here. Great, come on in."

The lead installer, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a no-nonsense expression, steps inside, glancing around. "So, we’ve got the specs here. Full ceiling mirror in the bedroom, right?"

Oscar nods, ushering them down the hallway to the bedroom. "Yeah, I need it to cover the entire ceiling. Exactly like we discussed."

The installer inspects the space, his eyes scanning the ceiling as he whistles under his breath. "Alright, shouldn’t be too complicated. We’ll need a couple of hours to get everything up and secured."

Oscar glances at his phone, calculating the time. You’ve been gone for about an hour. There’s a small window — tight, but doable. "That’s fine. Just make sure it’s done before two. She’ll be back around then."

The installer raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. "We’ll get it done."

Oscar watches as they bring in the equipment, laying down protective sheets to keep the floor clean. The mirror panels are large, delicate things, and the precision required for the installation is intense. He finds himself pacing the hallway, his hands shoved into his pockets as he listens to the distant sounds of drills and hammers.

Everything has to be perfect.

He knows it’s a bold move. Some might even call it crazy. But Oscar doesn’t care. He wants you to see yourself every day, to have no choice but to confront the truth: you’re stunning, exactly as you are. He doesn’t need you to be one of those women in the paddock, doesn’t need you to conform to some ridiculous image. You, in all your imperfections, are everything he could ever want.

He glances at his phone again — two hours left. The installers are moving quickly, efficiently, but it still feels like time is slipping away faster than he can keep up with.

The crew works in near silence, their movements calculated and precise. They measure the ceiling, check the panels, and begin the painstaking task of securing each mirrored piece in place. Oscar hovers nearby, watching them work, his nerves jangling like live wires.

“How much longer do you think?” He asks, not for the first time.

The lead installer doesn’t look up from his work, but his tone is patient. “We’re on schedule, mate. We’ve done this a hundred times. Just give us a bit.”

Oscar nods, forcing himself to step back. He paces again, trying to distract himself with his phone, but his mind keeps drifting back to you — to your face when you told him you didn’t feel like you measured up.

He needs this to be perfect. For you.

At long last, the sound of the drill ceases, and the lead installer steps back, wiping his hands on a rag. He surveys the ceiling with a critical eye, then turns to Oscar with a nod. "All done."

Oscar steps into the bedroom, and his breath catches in his throat.

The mirror covers the entire ceiling, gleaming and pristine, reflecting the room in perfect detail. It’s stunning — sleek, modern, but most importantly, it’s exactly what he envisioned.

“Looks great,” the installer says, clearly satisfied with the job.

Oscar nods, still staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah. It’s … perfect.”

The installers gather their things, and Oscar sees them out, barely able to contain his anticipation. He checks his phone one last time as the door closes behind them.

Life360 pings with a notification.

Y/N has arrived at home.

Oscar’s heart leaps into his throat. He has maybe five minutes before you walk through the door. He rushes back into the bedroom, doing a quick sweep to make sure everything is in place. The bed is made, the room is spotless, and the mirror … the mirror is flawless.

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He can hear your footsteps approaching the door now, the jingle of your keys as you unlock it.

This is it.

The door opens, and you step inside, calling out, “Oscar? You here?”

“In the bedroom!” He calls back, trying to keep his voice steady, casual.

You walk down the hallway, setting your bag on the floor as you approach. “I thought you were working out or something.”

Oscar stands by the bed, watching as you enter the room. For a second, you don’t notice it. You’re too busy taking off your jacket, distracted by the mundaneness of the day.

But then, as you move toward the bed, your eyes flicker upward, and you freeze.

“What the …”

Your voice trails off, your gaze locked on the ceiling, on the massive mirror that now dominates the room. You stand there, stunned, your mouth slightly open as you take it in.

Oscar watches you closely, his heart pounding. He takes a step closer, his voice low, almost tentative. “What do you think?”

You blink, still staring at the reflection above you. “You … put a mirror on the ceiling?”

He nods, stepping behind you, his hands finding your waist, pulling you gently back against him. “I wanted you to see yourself.”

Your eyes flick to his in the reflection, confusion mingling with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Oscar leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice soft but firm. “Every day, you’re going to wake up, and you’re going to look at yourself. You’re going to see what I see. The most beautiful woman in the world.”

You swallow, your eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. “Oscar …”

He turns you around slowly, guiding you until you’re facing him. “You don’t need to change a thing. Not your nose, not your body. Nothing. You’re perfect, just like this.”

Oscar’s hands slide from your waist to your hips, slow and deliberate. His eyes never leave yours, but in the mirror above, he can see the reflection of both of you, bodies so close, your breath mingling with his. There’s a moment of quiet between you, tension hanging in the air like a thread about to snap.

He leans down, his lips brushing your ear, his voice low and steady. “Let me show you.”

Your breath hitches, and you bite your lip, your eyes flicking between his face and the mirror. You don’t say anything, but you don’t resist, either. You’re standing still, waiting, nervous but trusting him completely.

Oscar takes his time. He starts by pulling at the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing your skin as he lifts it slowly over your head. You lift your arms for him, and the shirt falls to the floor. His hands return to your hips, sliding up to your waist, fingers tracing the soft curve of your ribs, then higher.

You shiver under his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips, but he doesn’t rush. He’s watching you in the mirror, your body, your face, your eyes — taking in every reaction, every small shift in your expression.

“Look at yourself,” he says softly, his voice firm but gentle. His fingers move to the clasp of your bra, and with a quick flick, it comes undone. He pulls it away, tossing it aside, and you’re left standing in front of him, exposed.

Your eyes flicker up to the mirror, but you don’t linger on your own reflection. You quickly glance back at Oscar, as if seeking reassurance.

His hands are on you again, warm and steady, guiding you back toward the bed. He lowers you gently onto the mattress, your body sinking into the softness of the sheets, and you feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness swirling in your chest.

Oscar climbs onto the bed with you, his movements controlled, deliberate. He kneels beside you, his eyes burning with something deep, something raw, as he looks down at you. The mirror above reflects everything — the way your chest rises and falls, the soft flush creeping up your neck, the way your body reacts to the intensity of his gaze.

He reaches for the waistband of your pants, his fingers sliding under the fabric. “Lift your hips,” he murmurs, and you do as he asks, allowing him to peel the material away from your skin. The cool air of the room makes you shiver, but it’s the warmth of his hands that sends a surge of heat through you.

Oscar lets out a quiet hum of approval, his gaze tracing the lines of your body, admiring every inch of you. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your belly, just above the waistband of your underwear, and you feel a jolt of electricity run through you.

“Look,” he whispers, his voice commanding yet soft. “Look at yourself.”

You hesitate, your eyes flicking toward the mirror but not quite settling on your reflection. You’re still unsure, still caught in the doubt that’s been gnawing at you for so long.

But Oscar won’t let you hide.

He trails his kisses up your body, his lips brushing the curve of your breast, then higher, to the sensitive skin near your collarbone. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips barely leaving your skin. “You’re perfect.”

You close your eyes, trying to absorb his words, trying to believe them, but the insecurity lingers.

Oscar’s hand moves lower, sliding down your body, his fingers grazing the waistband of your underwear again, but this time he tugs them down, pulling them off completely. You’re laid bare before him now, vulnerable, exposed, but you trust him. You trust him with everything.

He shifts, positioning himself between your legs, and you feel the heat of his body so close to yours. His hands find your thighs, gently parting them, and he leans down, his breath hot against your skin. His lips press a kiss to your inner thigh, and you shudder, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.

“Oscar,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he moves higher, his mouth tracing a path up your thigh until his lips are where you need them most. The first touch of his tongue is slow, deliberate, and it sends a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

You gasp, your back arching slightly off the bed, your hands flying to grip the sheets tighter. He takes his time, his tongue moving in slow, measured strokes, teasing you, building the heat in your core until it feels like you’re going to unravel.

But he doesn’t let you. Not yet.

His hand moves up your body, finding your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in the same slow, teasing rhythm. Your breath comes in ragged gasps now, and your eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

“Look at yourself,” Oscar says again, his voice low and commanding. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

You force your eyes open, glancing up at the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, your body laid out beneath Oscar, your skin flushed, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You see the way his hand moves over you, the way his mouth works between your legs, and it’s a surreal, intimate moment — seeing yourself through his eyes, the way he sees you.

You bite your lip, a moan escaping your throat as Oscar increases the pressure, his tongue circling that sensitive bundle of nerves in a way that makes your legs tremble. You feel the tension building inside you, the heat growing unbearable, but just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls back.

You let out a desperate whimper, your hips bucking involuntarily toward him, but he doesn’t relent.

“Not yet,” he says, his voice firm. He leans up, his body hovering over yours now, his face inches from yours. “Not until you say it.”

You blink up at him, breathless and confused. “Say what?”

“Say you’re beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Say it, and I’ll let you come.”

Your heart races in your chest, the vulnerability of the moment crashing into you. You’ve never said those words, not out loud, not with any kind of conviction. But the way Oscar looks at you, the way his hands move over your body, it makes you want to believe it — makes you want to see yourself the way he does.

You swallow hard, your voice trembling as you whisper, “I’m beautiful.”

Oscar’s eyes darken with approval, but he’s not done. He presses his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Say it again. Louder.”

Your body is aching for release, every nerve on fire, but you know he won’t let you have it until you give him what he wants — what you need to believe.

“I’m beautiful,” you say again, louder this time, your voice shaky but filled with more certainty.

Oscar’s hand moves between your legs again, his fingers teasing you, his touch deliberate, precise. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Now say it one more time. Like you mean it.”

You gasp as his fingers press against that bundle of nerves again, your body writhing beneath him, the pleasure so intense it’s almost unbearable. But you force yourself to say it, to believe it, because in this moment, you do.

“I’m beautiful,” you cry out, your voice breaking with the force of the admission.

And that’s when Oscar lets you go.

His mouth is on you again, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm, and the pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave. You arch off the bed, your hands flying to his hair, your body trembling as you finally, finally fall over the edge.

Oscar doesn’t stop. He keeps his pace steady, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you, until you’re shaking, gasping for breath, your body limp and boneless beneath him.

When you finally come down, your chest heaving, your heart pounding in your ears, Oscar moves up beside you, his body pressing against yours, his arm wrapping around your waist.

He kisses your forehead, his voice soft but firm as he whispers, “You are the most beautiful woman in the world. Don’t ever forget that.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believe him.

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syluslnd · 2 months ago

Note

Hello. I just want to say your stories are amazing ❤️🥺 can you please write sylus × y/n where sylus pushes the reader away for some reason and later on regrets it ( full angst to fluff ) thank you 🥺❤️

sylus pushing you away because he’s an idiot

Sylus sat behind his desk, eyes scanning through an endless stream of reports, his brow furrowed in deep frustration. The tension in his body was palpable; nothing seemed to be going right today.

The missions were falling apart, the data was incomplete and the pressure to resolve it all was suffocating. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t rested and every small problem felt like a spark waiting to ignite the fuse.

Then, the door to his office suddenly burst open.

“Hey, Sylus—”

You barely made it past the threshold before Sylus snapped, his sharp gaze lifting from the desk to you in an instant. His voice, usually calm and measured, came out harsh and cutting. “Who do you think you are to be barging in here without knocking?”

You froze in place, the words hitting you like a slap. Sylus rarely ever raised his voice at you and when he did, it was never like this. Shocked, you stammered, trying to apologize. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Leave.” The word came out cold and dismissive. His eyes narrowed, his tone biting, leaving no room for argument. “Just go.”

Your heart sank. You hadn’t meant to interrupt him, only to check if he needed anything. You always looked out for him, especially when he was drowning in work.

But now, standing there, your presence felt like an inconvenience. You muttered a quiet apology, backing out of the room, closing the door softly behind you.

For a while after you left, Sylus didn’t move. The anger he had let loose still simmered beneath the surface, but it was slowly being replaced by something heavier—guilt. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his silver hair.

Hours passed and Sylus tried to refocus but your absence gnawed at him. You always popped by to bring him food or just to make sure he was okay and now the silence in his office felt suffocating. He hadn’t eaten all day but without you, even the thought of food made him feel sick.

Eventually, he gave in, reaching for his comm to call you. It rang once, twice… but you didn’t pick up. His stomach twisted. He waited a few minutes, trying again but there was still no answer.

“Damn it” he muttered under his breath, tossing the comm onto the desk. The realization hit him harder than he expected: he had pushed you away. Again. He was always doing this, keeping people at arm’s length. But you… you were different. You were the only one who saw through his walls and instead of letting you in, he’d shoved you out.

Days passed and Sylus felt the weight of his mistake grow heavier. Without you around, he was a mess. He hadn’t eaten properly, his sleep was fitful and work had become unbearable. He kept expecting to hear your voice, see you bring him something to eat or just feel your presence nearby. But there was nothing and it was his fault.

He couldn’t take it anymore. The guilt gnawed at him until he finally decided to go to you.

Standing outside your door, Sylus hesitated. He wasn’t good at apologizing, never had been. Words got stuck in his throat, his pride and guilt twisting together in an uncomfortable knot. But he couldn’t leave things like this. He knocked softly and waited, feeling his heart pound in a way he wasn’t used to. When you opened the door, your expression was far from warm.

“Sylus” you said, your voice flat, arms crossed. “What do you want?”

He stared at you, his usual confidence faltering. He hadn’t expected the bitterness, though he probably deserved it. “Kitten…” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I… came to talk.”

“About what?” You raised an eyebrow, clearly still upset. “Yelling at me and kicking me out of your office?”

He flinched at your words, guilt surging through him. He had hurt you, more than he thought. “I shouldn’t have done that” he mumbled, his voice quieter than usual. “I was… frustrated but that’s not an excuse.”

“Frustrated?” you echoed, clearly unimpressed. “That’s all you’ve got?”

Sylus sighed, his hand falling to his side. Apologizing was harder than he thought it would be. “I know I screwed up, alright? I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just… I wasn’t thinking.”

You frowned, still not satisfied. “You didn’t think to call me either or at least check in after you threw me out like that.”

“I did call” he admitted, shifting uncomfortably. “You didn’t answer.”

You blinked, surprised for a moment but quickly masked it. “Maybe I didn’t want to answer.”

The silence between you stretched, tension thick in the air. Sylus felt like he was sinking deeper into his guilt, unsure how to fix this. He’d never been good at dealing with emotions, especially his own but now, seeing the hurt in your eyes, it was killing him.

“I missed you” he finally muttered, the words almost foreign to him. He looked down, avoiding your gaze, feeling the weight of his own failure press down on him. “You’re… the only one who gives a damn about me and I pushed you away. I haven’t even eaten properly since you stopped coming around, sweetie.”

You bit your lip, torn between being angry and feeling sorry for him. Sylus was always like this—closed off, pushing people away, even when he didn’t want to.

“I didn’t mean it” he added quietly, his voice rough with guilt. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then, with a sigh, you stepped aside, letting him into your place. “You’re an idiot, Sylus” you said, though there was a touch of softness to your words now. “But come in. I’m not letting you starve just because you don’t know how to say sorry.”

Sylus walked in, the relief evident in his eyes but the guilt still hung heavily over him. He sat down awkwardly, watching you move around the room, unsure how to make things right. But for now, he was here, with you. It was a start.

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #sylus x reader #sylus #sylus x you

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authorhjk1 · 1 month ago

Note

Hey could you do BP members react first time cum inside

Jisoo

"Jisoo..."

You try to warn her. But the woman underneath you just moans louder. Her ankles are crossed on your back, her hands locked together behind your neck. The two of you are almost one body.

You can't hold it in any longer. Jisoo's body, especially her tight pussy, leaves you breathless. You're too weak to fight against her own fading strength.

"Jisoo..."

You say her name once more. But this time it's a sigh of defeat. You empty your load deep inside of her, making Jisoo moan in response.

"Oh god..."

She sighs, her whole body tensing as she feels your warmth. Usually, you cum somewhere on her body, maybe even in her mouth, but never inside. Why has she waited so long for this? It feels amazing.

Jennie

"You gonna give it to me? You gonna fill up my little pussy?"

Jennie looks over her shoulder at you, her tight body pressed against the cold wall.

"Yeah."

You groan into her ear, unable to say much else. You met her barely 20 minutes ago and Jennie is already telling you to dump your cum in her.

"Put your load in me. Right where it belongs. In my needy little cunt."

You groan her name, pin her further against the wall, and finally you orgasm inside of her. Jennie's breath hitches as she feels your cum inside her pussy.

"Damn, I feel so full. I'm gonna have your cum leak out of me for the rest of the day."

Rosé

"C-Can you please cum inside this time?"

You look down at your girlfriend. On her stomach, black dress hiked up enough so you can fuck her tight pussy, her hands bound together by your tie.

"Sure."

You leat out a relieved sigh. It's always such a struggle to pull out early. And a condom just doesn't compare. It just feels like heaven, whenever you fuck your girlfriend raw.

"Jennie said, she got creampied by some stranger the other night. And I want to feel that too."

Her already weak voice tells you that Rosé is reaching her own limit as well. The thought of Jennie, letting a random dude cum inside, makes you fuck your girlfriend a little harder.

"Oh, yes there. Jennie is such a slut. I'm surprised she hasn't tried to make you cheat on me yet."

You quiet your girlfriend by giving her harder thrusts, trying not to think about Jennie while you fuck her.

But it's already too late. Rosé's snug and wet pussy and your mental image of Jennie make you you cum inside your girlfriend earlier than you expected.

"Oh, god. It feels amazing."

Rosé can barely get those words out, before she orgasms herself. You feel her draining your for everything you have. Her already sloppy pussy now needy for more of this newfound feeling.

Lisa

You still can't believe that Blackpink's Lisa is riding you. Inside her own hotel room. Her hands rest on your shoulder, yours on her waist. She didn't even bother getting rid off her dress. She just told you to follow her upstairs, when she caught you staring at her in the lobby.

You could've sworn there were rumours about a boyfriend or something. Either they're not true, or she is doing something really bad right now.

The idea of being able to have sex with Lisa already drives you mad. A dream come true. But is she actually doing this while being in a relationship?

"Damn, your cock feels amazing."

Lisa leans down to give you a deep kiss. A kiss that pushes your further to the point of no return.

She must have felt what you're thinking, because she pulled away and is now looking down on you as she keeps riding you.

"Don't worry, he doesn't mind. Actually, he finds it hotter when I let guys like you cum inside."

"What?"

You're barely able to comprehend what she just said, the fog in your brain already limiting your ability to think.

"It's okay, baby."

Lisa picks up the pace a little, which is deadly for your self control. She leans down, so her mouth is right next to your ear.

"Just think of me as a one time cumdump."

"Fuck."

You groan as you close your eyes, which makes you miss Lisa's knowing smirk. You dig your fingers into her hips as you thrust upwards, cuming deep inside of her.

"Fuck, yes."

Lisa moans, a satisfied smile on her lips. She grinds her hips back and forth. Trying to get as much out of you as possible.

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #blackpink smut #blackpink jennie #blackpink jisoo #blackpink lisa #blackpink rosé #blackpink

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months ago

Text

Injured (Alexia's Version) VI

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alexia tries to talk to you

TW: discussions of eating disorder

It's reminiscent of that night all those years ago when Alexia came home and was shoved against her own wall by her sister.

It's funny how history repeats itself.

Alexia, back to the wall and unable to understand why and Alba, absolutely furious, being the one to hold her there.

"Alba?" Olga shrieks, standing up from her spot on the sofa.

Alba had one of the spare keys but usually, she didn't use it. Today she had though, bursting through the door like a woman on a mission and shoving Alexia up against the wall.

Jaume never saw the first time but he's heard about it. He couldn't have lived so long in this family without finding out about what happened when he was a baby. But, still, this is the first time he's seen Tia Alba angry at Mami and he watches with wide eyes from the top of the stairs.

"She's skin and bones!" Tia Alba hisses," I watched her today! She could barely stand up!"

"I know."

"And she...Wait, what?"

"I know, Alba." Alexia is calm even though her sister still has a tight grip on her shoulders, pinning her to the wall. "We know. We're trying to work out how to help."

Alba lets go of her, stepping away. "You know?"

Alexia nods. "We know. We're just trying to work out how. She always finishes dinner."

Guilt settles low in Jaume's gut as Mami, Mama and Tia Alba start discussing your eating habits.

You'd always been a bit peckish. You were never much of a big eater.

Jaume was the opposite. He was a growing boy. He ate a lot, especially on days with football training. He hadn't thought much of you offering your food to him, grateful that he wouldn't have to rifle through the fridge when Mami and Mama left the kitchen.

The topic of dinner comes up again and Jaume lingers on the bottom step, threading his fingers together anxiously.

"She..."

The three women fall silent as he steps into the light.

"What is it, Jaume?" Olga asks.

"Mama," He says, throat bobbing and tears welling in his eyes," I didn't...She never...I didn't know, Mama."

"Didn't know what? What is it?"

"Bambi...I..."

Alexia has always been his idol. She's a legend at Barcelona, captain of the club, captain of the country. Her trophies seemed endless and so did her awards. She was a World Cup winner. One of the greatest to ever play the game.

He wanted to be like her.

Her approval meant everything to him.

"Jaume," Alexia says," What is it? About Bambi? Tell us."

"I've been eating her dinner," He admits," When you and Mama turn your backs. She gives it to me."

Tia Alba noisily blows out air, hands cradling her head and Jaume can see the heartbreak on absolutely everyone's faces.

"Thank you for telling us," Alexia says," You're a good boy, Jaume."

Jaume's throat still feels tight though and guilt still swirls in his belly. "Is she...Is she going to be okay?"

No one answers.

It's a delicate situation to work around.

Alba drops hints during your weekly lunch. Olga keeps an eye on your snack breaks after school. Alexia tries to heap more food onto your plate.

You don't notice anything wrong though, apart from the fact that Jaume is suddenly not hungry anymore. He doesn't want your leftovers.

Alexia's the one to confront you, slipping into your room as you finish up some homework.

"Hey," She says.

"Hey." You finish off your last sentence before spinning around in your chair. "What's up?"

Your room has changed since you were little.

Most of your train tracks and little sets are packed away in the attic but your favourite models still litter your shelves. Your bed has gotten bigger and the bookshelf that used to be covered in children's stories is now full of textbooks and little dancing knickknacks like dead pointe shoes or worn-through ballet flats.

A desk has been moved in for you to complete your school work and your closet is now full of clothes you wanted to buy rather than what Alexia used to want you in.

Gone is the little girl with full, round baby cheeks and in her place is a teenager who's lost weight at an alarming rate.

Alexia can hardly believe it.

"I bought us ice cream."

She waves the tub teasingly at you and you pull a face.

"Sorry, Mami," You say," But I'm not hungry right now."

You spin your chair back to your desk.

Alexia spins it back.

You huff.

"Even just a little bit?" She asks," I can't finish this all by myself."

"Jaume's always hungry. Eat with him."

Something prickles down your spine.

Mami is acting weird like she knows something about you that you don't want her to know.

You stare across at her from the bank of a river. You're on one side. She's on the other. The river rushes between you, a gaping chasm that's getting more and more dangerous as it splashes at the banks.

"I can't eat with you?"

She's pushing now and you snap.

"Why does it matter? I'm not hungry! Drop it!"

Alexia's façade drops as well.

"You've not been eating," She says bluntly.

The water laps more furiously at the banks of the river, rushing towards to a waterfall. Alexia looks at you from across the bank. You stare back at her unblinking.

"Yes..." You say, frozen in place," Yes, I have. What are you talking about?"

"Are you an athlete?"

"What?"

"Do you consider yourself an athlete?"

You scoff, standing up. Your stomach swirls as blood rushes to your head. You feel a little woozy and light-headed but you force your way through it.

"Is this your way of saying that dance isn't active enough for you? Yes! Yes, I consider myself an athlete."

"Then why aren't you fuelling yourself like one?"

Alexia's being gentle about this, trying to coax you out of the corner you've found yourself trapped in. She should have been more subtle though, she realises with a jolt, because you're seconds away from bolting.

She reaches out for you across the bank, a simple hand.

You want to take it. You want her to throw a rope across for you. Something for you to hold and clutch as you swim over to her, to safety.

But you just can't.

Safety means questions and you don't want to answer her questions. You're sure she'll hate you for what she unearths. You're sure she'll look at you and not see her daughter looking back.

If you can't be perfect for her, if you can't be perfect for yourself then you're not worth anything to her.

Jaume has common interests with Mami. He plays football like she did. He plays well like she did. He's going to be world-class like she was.

You have little in common with Alexia but it doesn't make her love you any less. She adores you. She'd drop everything to make sure you're alright.

She doesn't care if you're not perfect. She doesn't care if you decide to quit ballet altogether. She just wants you to be alright.

But you just don't believe that.

You need perfection in yourself. You assume Alexia needs perfection from you as well.

She's staring across the bank from you, arm still out.

You reach for it but the river has gotten more aggressive. The mud on the bank is slippery.

You go straight in.

You try to inflate your lungs but all you can do is breathe in icy cold water as you're battered against the rocks.

You look at Alexia, still holding a tub of ice cream.

She looks at you.

You bolt.

Out of your room. Down the stairs. Out the door and down the street.

Alexia would run after you but she knows. She knows you so well. You'll just run from her and you're much fitter than she is right now. You'd get away quickly.

If she lets you go now then she'll at least know where you're going.

If she runs after you then you could go anywhere.

You're scared. Alexia has scared you.

It's a difficult conversation to have so Alexia lets you run. You need time to calm down, to prepare for this.

She's not happy. She can't be happy when you are starving yourself for reasons still unknown but she can be content with her decision to let you go for now.

You'll have run to somewhere you feel safe.

Alexia can be content.

Or, she's content for a few hours until she gets that call.

"Is this Alexia Putellas?"

"Yes?"

"Hi, I'm just calling because you're put down at y/n's emergency contact? I'm afraid she's passed out in one of the practice rooms."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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moonywritez6 · 11 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 1 Praise Kink (Reupload)

Character: Sebastian (Stardew Valley)

Reader: Fem Reader!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Praise kink, smut, pet names, unprotected sex, harsh language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cigarettes,

Wc: 4,795

A/n: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!

______________________________________________________________

"Sebastian I…I want you to take me home."

_______

"You're doing such a good job baby, oh such a good fucking job." he moans, watching as your body squirmed underneath him while feeling you needily clenching around his fingers, causing his cock to twitch in his pants as he growls, biting into the crook of your neck. "Princess, look at me, sweetheart." He breathes while carefully adjusting your gaze onto him. "Did you know he used to brag about you all the time?" He confessed, eyes locking with your clouded ones as he slowly freed himself from his pants, a slight hiss leaving his lips as his cock sprang against his chest. "He used to tell me all the time how sexy you were…" You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear the man fingering you talk about how your ex used to praise you to others, finding yourself disgusting for getting aroused.

Sam

"Are you still at her place then?'

Sebastian just hummed as he sat on the edge of your bed, carefully playing with a strand of your hair as he looked down at you, eyes filled with love.

"Of course, I'd still be at her house. After all, she's my girl now~."

#stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley Sebastian x reader #smut #kinktober 2023 #x reader #female reader #sebastian stardew valley #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian #sdv smut #sdv sebastian x reader

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yesimwriting · 10 months ago

Text

something about bestfriend!felix who's so used to the world bending over backwards to please him that he seems entirely separated from the concept of boundaries.

it's one of the few things about him that remains unspoken because it reminds those in his social circle that no matter how much influence or money they might have, someone has more. and that someone is felix catton.

he's never weird about it, there's just this rule that everyone learns to pick up on and never mention. if felix wants to go out for the night or do anything socially with someone, it's customary for that person to cancel any other plans.

it might be more of an issue if felix's proximity didn't feel like sunbathing on an early summer day, but it does. so he's used to not having to work to get someone where he wants them.

until you.

despite your friendship still being relatively new, the two of you have bonded enough for you to accept his presence instantly.

felix didn't call before coming over. you answered the door after two knocks, grinning as soon as you saw him standing there. you didn't even think to ask about the lack of notice, you just invited him in and made some comment about how you were just studying.

he told you he didn't mind if you wanted to keep studying, that he brought over his own textbooks just in case. even though you were set up at your desk, you moved your supplies over to your bed so that you could sit with him.

it started off as separated as the two of you ever are, just your bent knee pressing gently into his lower thigh. your shared restraint dissolved quickly.

you're practically laying down, back partially supported by a wall and two pillows, felix's head resting on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair. he's holding up a textbook for you with one arm, fingertips absentmindedly brushing against your bare leg.

he breaks the silence with a sigh. when you don't respond, he turns his head and presses his lips against your thigh. your nails freeze against his scalp. "felix."

"lovie," he replies, tone as scandalized as yours. you sigh, and he can practically feel your eye roll.

felix grins, turning his head look up at you. he knows he should be good about this, about you, but he's not accustomed to practicing this kind of restraint. he's preoccupied with terribly soft thoughts of closer when he blurts out the question, "come out with me tonight?"

it's only a question by technicality, his eyes bright as if you've already agreed.

you press your lips together, and the hesitance in the look jabs at him. he brushes his knuckles against the side of your leg like that might tip the decision. "i have an econ test on monday."

the excuse deflates him. it's only friday, and even if it wasn't, you don't need to worry about your grades. there's a naturalness to your schooling, you grasp everything almost immediately. any personal selfishness aside, you don't need a weekend of studying. it's objective fact.

you're still watching him, expression unsure. "y'know too much studying's bad for you." your lips part, but before you can say anything, felix is shutting the book he'd been holding up for you.

he extends his arm, his palm covering the upper half of your face with the palm of his hand. you laugh out his name. "what? your eyes need the rest." you shift, still giggling as you halfheartedly try to push him off. "you'll get a headache."

your fingers wrap around his wrist. "you're my headache."

he lets out a mock gasp before pulling away entirely. felix doesn't miss your slight pout as he sits up. "actually?"

you're chasing after him, sitting up and attempting to grab his arm. felix lets you. "no." you squeeze his arm to you. "i meant it in a you're my best friend way."

"that so?" you nod innocently, all wide eyes as if to say see? i have no intentions of being anything other than a perfect angel.

felix pretends to contemplate forgiveness, then, with no warning lays down. you're not given a chance to deliberate what that means before he's tugging on your arm. he mumbles a brief, explanatory, "c'mere," as he pulls you into his chest.

you listen, moving to rest your chin against the side of his chest. your arm's across him. felix's shirt has ridden up right where your fingertips naturally rest. the bare contact makes goosebumps break out across your arms.

"go out with me tonight," he tries, voice soft. you have to drop your gaze to keep from immediately melting and agreeing to whatever he wants. "c'mon, think it's good for you to take a break every now and then."

you lift your head up just enough to glare at him. felix shifts his leg, pressing it against yours. you push back gently, just enough to reciprocate the gesture. "so you're saying i'm a friendless loser that only ever goes out when you make me?"

"i'm saying," he extends the syllables to buy himself some time to think, "i have to go, and i won't have any fun without you."

you find it hard to imagine that felix catton ever has to do anything he doesn't want to. you're also confident in his ability to find fun at a party. "you have farleigh, and oliver, and annabel--you'll be fine without me."

his hand is on your back, fingers tracing lazy patterns against the fabric of your t-shirt. "i don't want anyone else." the soft whine in his tone paired with his slight pout makes him seem smaller, like a little kid that just needs to be wrapped up. "i want you."

"you have me."

felix frowns, "doesn't feel like it."

you're losing. "do you really want me to go that badly?"

he smiles, feeling the crack in your resolve. "we'll just go for a little. have a drink or two, then y'can sleepover if you want." you do like sleeping over in felix's dorm. "and then tomorrow we can do whatever you want--study, watch a movie, dinner."

a sleepover and a saturday. this no longer feels like a loss. you smile, "deal."

felix's available hand finds your hip. "that's my girl."

the comment makes your face feel warm, you drop your head to rest on his stomach to hide any potential signs of being flustered. he'd tease you to no end about it. "i should get up, start getting ready."

he runs his hand down your back, "it's not until later." he moves his hand back up slowly. his thumb starts traces circles against your shoulder. "we've got time."

----

omg bestfriend!felix blurbs are everything to me,, if you have any thoughts about bestfriend-verse pls lmk,,

also?? might have to write a full fic for bestfriend-verse

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriend!felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

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bunnys-kisses · 3 months ago

Note

Hi bunny!

Can I please have Belgian waffles, angel food cake and on the house ( hopefully that is the correct thing to say) with max or danny or both 🫶

Love all you have written 🫶🫶

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! it's great to hear what orders you come up with! as for this lovely request from @biancathecool thank you! and yes i can write for the other two drivers you sent in another message (their names escape me as i write this), but yes! hit me with it!! thank you! enjoy!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + angel food cake ("if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you.") + on the house: coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen & daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, threesome, maxiel + reader, rivals au, ferrari!reader, cock & pussy drunk, degrading language/dirty talk, mean!max, mean!daniel, rough sex, dom/sub, biting/marking, possessive beheaviour, hate fuck, facials & back shots, cum eating

sharing was caring, at least in daniel's eyes. he had shared a lot of things over the course of his friendship with max verstappen. there were normal things like food, plane rides, they spent weekends together even. he could even recall a night austin when they both shared the same girl for an evening.

so it only made sense that daniel ricciardo would share his favourite rival. the cute little thing on the ferrari team. lucky number forty-seven.

max was mad by the end of the dutch grand prix. one clip from you, another from leclerc. he was getting pummelled by the prince and princess of ferrari on his home turf. and that left a bitter taste in his mouth as he hit his helmet against the wall once the race was over.

you dressed in your ferrari red, beaming at charles who came in first. ferrari took first and second while the lion of the netherlands barely clung to fifth. as you and charles sprayed champagne on each other and laughed, max could feel the anger in his veins.

and daniel was like the devil in max's ear, "hey max, seem kind of pissed." he placed his hand on max's shoulder, "you know, i'm seeing her after this... in my hotel room. you're free to join us, maybe get some of that anger out." he patted the other man's shoulder.

max's jaw tensed for a moment as he got a full view of you on the podium, laughing and waving. max couldn't very well put you under his boot, but he could make a mess of your pretty insides.

"we have a guest tonight." daniel chuckled as he served you more wine.

you were in the hotel room robe with very little underneath. you were tired of wearing clothes after being in that stuffy uniform all day. you happily accepted the wine and brought the glass to your lips, "guest? you didn't."

daniel chuckled and put the bottle down back on the coffee table, "word won't get out. he's good at keeping secrets." he patted your thigh.

the wine tasted good, expensive in a way that you weren't accustomed to. you had your fair share of grocery store wine, but the more that daniel lured you in with the finer things in life. it was getting harder to go back to your old ways. money couldn't buy taste, but it could buy flavor.

there was a knock on the door and daniel got up. you took sight of his ass in those the sweatpants he wore. there was no use looking formal, you were both here for the same thing.

daniel didn't say who the guest of the evening was. but you almost spilled red wine all over yourself at the sight of max on the other side of the door.

"daniel." you said, "not max."

daniel looked over his shoulder and smiled, "c'mon, princess. i can assure you that he won't hurt you... too much." that gleaming smile of his always seemed to get you into more trouble.

you put the glass down and kept your focus on the two men as max entered the hotel room.

"she looks good." max said as if you weren't in the room with them. you swallowed when he looked at you, "she looks better without the uniform on."

"max..." you said.

"well you know, mate." daniel smiled "i cum in that every night." your arrangement had been going on for some time. it didn't help that you lived in the same building during the off season and he'd often visit you in your driver's room. often to get a taste of that soaked cunt he adored.

your ears went hot as you replied, "danny, what the fuck."

max took a step forward and got his shoes off. he stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans. his eyes gazed with hunger on you. it made you close your robe a little more.

"princess." daniel said as he went back to the couch and pulled you close to him, "i think you own max an apology. you've been fucking with him, toying with him. i see how you look at him, when i mention his name you get wet." his grip on you grew tighter, "it's only right you make amends for your team."

you were soon seated in the middle of the couch between the two men. usually the routine with daniel was that you two would have some wine, indulge in kinky and he'd often cuddle you until you made a hasty escape back to your hotel room before anyone caught on.

but there was a look in daniel's eye that had you worried. it felt like you were between two lions who wanted nothing more than to sink their claws into you. chew you up and devour you whole.

daniel started to undo the robe you wore, while max held you face in a tight grip. you weren't going anywhere fast. daniel's lips were on the back of your neck, in a sensitive spot and max was kissing you deeply

"are you going to be good for us, princess?" daniel asked before he made you keep eye contact with max by holding onto your hair.

you looked into the other's blue eyes and swallowed, "you two are sick."

max raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze looked to daniel, "seems you haven't trained her." he spoke about you like you were a dog, not the second place of this weekend's race.

daniel got a hand around your throat and held onto it tightly, he tilted your head back to look at him. he said in a soft voice, "you're making my look bad. i promised our good friend max here a good night tonight."

you swallowed, you felt something boil in your stomach. like it was all going to boil over soon. you were sandwiched between two men who honestly hated you after the grand prix.

you looked at daniel for a moment before you said, "sorry, sir."

"and you'll be good for our friend tonight? treat him nicely. no teeth, no attitude?"

you nodded like an eager puppy and daniel kissed you on the lips. you were pushed up further against the australian driver as max pressed further into you. further being squished between the two men.

when you stopped kissing daniel, max captured your lips once more. you held onto the back of the couch with one hand as a means of some sort of support.

you were stripped of your robe before daniel made you get off the couch and onto the bed in the other room. you scampered away on shaky legs, basically exposed to both men. you could feel their gazes on you.

"why not the couch?" max asked, it would've been easy for max to fold you in half or toss you over the couch.

daniel chuckled and slapped his friend on the shoulder, "it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed. she's pretty flexible, can fuck her about anywhere. but i'd love for us to have a little more comfort." then got off the couch to join you with the dutch driver close behind.

you knew that if you wanted to keep your underwear in one piece, you had to get them off before the other men came. your kicked off your panties and your bra was on the floor before you sat on top of the bed, one leg over the other.

this all felt so sick, it was almost degrading. their stares and their words pierced through you and left your brain running on carnal desires.

you watched them come in, and you tried to make yourself appear a tad smaller, but daniel's voice made you sit up straight once more.

"show them off, princess."

daniel was on you first, he clothes went flying as he smothered you against him. he weight on top of you kept you pinned down to the hotel room bed.

he kissed you with a fever, only breaking it to get his t-shirt off over his head. you felt the leg of his jeans grind against your soaked sex which made you whimper.

he looked over his shoulder for a moment to say to max, "come on in, the water's fine." before he went back to kissing you with a heated passion.

max was slower to get his clothes off. everything came off slowly as he felt a throb between his legs. watching his friend make you a debauched mess.

daniel was a good friend, letting max have a taste of you. letting him sink his teeth into you. and you were such a good little girl for letting max enact his revenge for your little stunt on the track. maybe that'll teach you.

you were meant to look pretty for ferrari, their logo plastered across your pretty tits, not to get in the way of men like max and daniel.

daniel got away from you and propped himself on the bed beside you. his expression was wild and his cheeks were hot. "c'mon there, maxie! don't be so shy!"

max was in his briefs and you swallowed at you looked at him. even so physically exposed, his gaze remained stern on you. you knew he could crack jokes and be funny. but your (almost) win left something searing inside of him.

you swallowed and with a bit of confidence you crooked your finger at him, "yeah, mad max."

"wouldn't be so mad if you gave me a reason not to be, princess."

you swallowed and tried to bite back, in a last ditch effort to gain some sort of control between these two men, "maybe you should race better."

the corner of max's mouth twitched before he looked at daniel, "i'm taking her throat." before he got onto the bed and got himself up against the headboard, he gave his thigh a pat.

daniel was in your space once more, hand on your hip as he said, "you heard the man, hands and knees, princess."

you got between max's legs, your front pressed against the bed to give you the best chance to suck his cock. your ass was stuck up to give daniel a good angle as well. you were to be used.

you looked up at max, his cock pressed against your cheek. you let out a shuddered breath.

"not much of a princess." he said as he took your hair in his hand. his grip was tight, not enough to rip any of it out. but firm enough to guide you onto his cock.

daniel slapped your ass before he placed those large hands on your hips. he chuckled in response, "more like a whore. i wonder what ferrari would think of this? sandwiched between two other drivers. shame, shame." he rubbed his tip up against your wet slit as you started to suck max off.

max held onto your hair as you got your lips around his cock. he took back anything he said about you not being trained. you sucked cock like an obedient dog.

daniel noticed max's expression and chuckled, "i told you she would be good for you." their gaze's met and he added, "took her about eight months to lose that gag reflex. now she's the cock sucking champ of formula one."

max felt something unfamiliar curl in his stomach, "do you share her often?"

daniel shook his head, "no way. she's isn't some whore i give out at parties. we're friends, max. and she needs to learn a lesson."

max looked down at you and pinched your cheek, "if charles fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you." a threat about your teammate. that you were responsible for the entire team. to not upset the likes of max verstappen.

daniel was lapping this up. he knew that sometimes you could be a bit mouthy in the bedroom, so it was nice to have someone fill that gap. keep you nice and quiet.

you whimpered when daniel stuffed his cock inside of you suddenly and your back arched more which allowed the man to push further into you. you were drooling around max's cock, having it almost choke you.

"always wondered how she got in." max said idly as he ran his fingers through your hair. he kept an eye on how well you choked down his cock, "i know her daddy didn't buy her way in. she wasn't the best in any race she was in." he spoke like you weren't in the room. he pushed his cock deeper, your nose in his trimmed pubic hair, "did you give mister vasseur head, princess?"

you met his gaze like you were going to respond but the driver's cock in your mouth left you unable to form much of a sentence. max liked when you looked at him, below him. less than.

"danny won't pass you around, but i bet every head principal got a taste of you." max said, "i be you started with the best and worked your way down." he gripped onto your hair tighter, "whored yourself out for a good contract."

you whimpered, his demeaning words made you cunt tighten around daniel's cock. you were a good driver! you knew that! you came in second and these two were acting like you has the worst record in modern f1!

daniel smirked as he groped your ass cheek, threatening to bruise the skin with his grasp, "while i would agree with you." he licked his lips, "she had actually never had sex before we started to mess around. it only started because she just got so fuckin' turned on after races. taught her everything i could."

max's expression looked surprise, "oh.." he looked down at you once more, "seems you've been a good girl for daniel. i'm surprised, given that mouth of yours. but i guess you just need something to occupy it."

you whined as you felt daniel's cock deep in you. you were being fucked both ways. the princess of ferrari made a mess of. you held onto max's bare thighs and let out a small whimper as they continued their motions against you.

daniel seduced you early on with that laid back attitude, but the more he unwrapped about you. the more he knew that you were just a little slut waiting to happen. you had been a good girl your entire life and now handed a lot of freedom and piles of cash, you needed someone to reign you in.

thankfully daniel liked to keep his favourite rival on a short leash.

"i think after tonight, she'll be a little more gentle on the track." daniel pushed you further into the bed, which made max's cock hit past where your gag reflex used to be.

you felt raw all over, there were a few stray tears in your eyes. but yet it all excited you. letting these two enact their wrath over your second placement.

"she better be." max replied.

the two of them continued to fuck you and you were subject for wave after wave of pleasure. you felt sore all over. daniel's cock rearranging your guts while max's cock was cutting off proper air circulation.

depraved nonsense.

"prettier when she's quiet." daniel mentioned.

max chuckled in response, his cheeks stained pink, "of course she's greedy enough for two cocks."

daniel was the first to finished, he quickly pulled out and jerked off on your back before he finished all over your skin. covering your lower back in pearly white cum. you groaned at the feeling of it across your back, the mess that was made.

"don't cum until our guest finishes. it's called being polite, princess" he said, his voice hot in your lust ridden head.

you mouth on max was sloppy, the driver made sure that you were taking it all the way to the base. and when he was close to finishing, he pulled out of your mouth and stroked his cock until he made a total mess. letting cum land across your cheeks and up into your hair.

max rested against the headboard and looked at the mess he made. if only he had his phone.

"she's something else. if only she brought that energy to every race." daniel chuckled.

you whimpered and tried not to get cum all over the hotel sheets. the embarrassment of house keeping finding it made you want to die. but you weren't covered in cum for long. soon you were fed the cum all over your face and back by the men who put it all over you.

their fingers shoved in your mouth as you whined. their digits dragged across your teeth and the inside of your cheek. they made sure to get the seed all over your tongue so you'd taste them for the next few hours.

number forty-seven for ferrari was a good driver, but an even better cum slut.

you woke up in the morning rested against daniel's chest. while that felt familiar and all. there was no way both of his arms were wrapped around your waist like that.

you lifted your head and saw max holding you from behind. the previous night came back to you and you tried to move. but max's arms tightened around you.

"where are you going, princess? we're not done." max's sleepy voice could be heard.

daniel's eyes slightly opened before he pressed your head back to his chest. he held you there for a moment and added, "you're not getting away that easily."

your eyes went wide for a moment. the princess of ferrari had fallen into the jaws of the f1's most ferocious predators. you laid there for a moment, your hand across daniel's chest. you swallowed, there was no where you could hide that daniel and max wouldn't find you.

daniel gripped the back of your head for a moment. he believed in sharing with his good friend max verstappen. didn't matter if it was a slice of pizza, an extra euro for a vending machine, or the princess he had meticulously trained. <3

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heich0e · 9 months ago

Text

little!miya gets sick and single dad!osamu is in over his head. the little boy's fever is raging and he's inconsolable, refusing any of the care his papa is desperately trying to offer him.

he's only asking for you.

"W-WHERE'S BABE? I want my ba-aaaaabe," the four year old wails, his cheeks flushed scarlet and snot dripping from his nose as the tears continue.

"babe's at home, buddy. you'll see her tomorrow once ya get some sleep, alright?" osamu wipes at his son's nose as he tries to comfort him but it doesn't help much. the little boy clutches tighter at the plush toy tucked under his arm—one you bought for him on a trip to the aquarium, one of the first days the three of you spent together—and turns his head away from his father petulantly.

"I ONLY WANT BABE."

samu sighs, raking a hand through his greasy hair. he's exhausted. it's been hours of this, and his son is showing no signs of relenting.

finally he cracks, reaching for the phone in his back pocket.

"he's asleep now."

the bedroom door closes behind you with a soft click.

samu is slumped against the wall in the hallway, his knees spread and head hanging, having been banished from the room by his own flesh and blood the minute you showed up half an hour prior.

"thanks fer this," samu says quietly, keeping his voice low as you crouch down on the floor in front of him. "i'm sorry to call so late."

you press a hand to his cheek, running your thumb over the shadow of fatigue inking under his eye. it's darker than usual, and you understand why.

"call me anytime, samu," you reassure him. "you know i'd do anything for you two."

"ya shouldn't have to do this, though," samu mumbles, struggling to meet your gaze that feels too tender—too comforting and familiar and pitying—right now.

"i barely did anything," you argue, a bit indignantly. "i just read him a story and helped him take off his pyjama top so he could 'wear his jammies like papa.'"

samu laughs tiredly at that, a short, wry breath of air through his nose.

"and i didn't have to do it," you add again after a moment, taking both of his cheeks in your hands and forcing him to look at you properly. "i wanted to, because i love you both very much."

samu's eyes are burning. he knows it's because he's overtired. hell, he wouldn't be surprised if he caught whatever virus his son brought home from school. but regardless of the why, the tears are flooding up inside his chest and threatening to spill over.

"love you," samu says, the words all breath and unequivocal truth. "'m glad yer here."

he leans forward and tucks his face into the crook of your neck, and you wrap your arms around him as you welcome it.

you hold him there, on the floor outside his four year old son's bedroom, for as long as he needs you to.

finally, osamu feels a bit more himself, and is ready to pull away. you brush a few strands of his hair out of his gaze once he's extricated himself from your embrace. there's a little twinkle of mischief behind your eyes. "you should go get cleaned up and ready for bed, and i'll go grab that ice cream i hid in the back of the freezer behind the broccoli."

samu smiles, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the edge of your mouth.

"i love you," he says, speaking the words against your welcoming lips.

"you already said that," you tease him, tilting your head so that your reply meets the centre of his own.

"i mean it, though," samu replies, inching back only far enough that he can see both your eyes, the ends of your noses brushing as he watches your lashes flutter. "so, wanna marry me?"

#osamu x reader #single dad!osamu #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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latin5mamii · 3 months ago

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hate you

warnings: none, just cocky jude…

summary:You hate him, right?

genre: enemies to lovers

author's note:Sorry for the wait girls😔😔, hope you like it🙏🏻

You’ve always hated him. That stupid, little smirk, the way he carries himself like he’s God’s gift to football, so full of himself it makes you want to scream. The arrogance when he talks about his goals, his wins, like he’s the main character and everyone else is just background noise. God, he’s so irritating.

And yet, you can’t stop looking at him.

It’s infuriating, really. How can someone be both so attractive and so insufferable at the same time? You’d never admit that to yourself, of course. You hate him, with every cell in your body. Right?

It doesn’t help that Vinicius, bless him, keeps pushing you two together like some clueless matchmaker.

“Come on, you just need to spend more time together!” he insists, completely oblivious to how you and Jude can’t be in the same room for five minutes without getting on each other’s nerves.

“Didn’t expect you to be here,” comes that annoyingly familiar voice, laced with just the right amount of smugness to make your blood boil.Jude,leaning casually against the wall like he’s the king of the place, holding a drink with that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

“Hi, what do you want?” you snap, barely hiding your irritation.You wanted to sound pacific but you know how that is…

Jude’s grin widens, clearly enjoying every second of annoying you. “Just thought I’d come and bother you, like always.” You can't help but notice his muscles through his shirt, you curse yourself for looking at them.

“I hate you,” you spit out, crossing your arms. You try to hold onto that anger, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you with that lazy, amused expression, like he’s got you all figured out.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “Oh, really?” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping lower, almost like he’s daring you.

“Yes, really,” you say, trying to sound as convinced as possible.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you push it down, refusing to let him see the effect he’s having on you. You look away hoping he'll leave you alone but before the banter can continue, Vinicius appears out of nowhere, throwing an arm around both of you with a grin that could light up the room. “There you are! See? You’re talking like friends already!”

“Friends,” you and Jude both mutter in unison, your voices dripping with sarcasm. You exchange a quick glance, and for a moment, there’s something almost playful in his eyes. It throws you off, makes you feel like you’re stumbling in a game you didn’t even realize you were playing.

"Maybe we'll become friends, who knows?"

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, crossing your arms tighter over your chest.

“Ew, no,” you scoff, as if the very idea is something out of a nightmare. The thought of being friends with Jude (let alone anything more) is enough to make your skin crawl, maybe.

Vinicius just laughs. “You say that now, but I’m telling you, I can see it already.” He taps the side of his head like he’s some kind of psychic. “You two are gonna get together, break up, get back together, break up again, maybe three times at least. But trust me, in the end, you’ll be disgustingly happy.”

You’re about to fire back when you catch Jude shrugging casually, his expression surprisingly serious. “Yeah, probably true,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You whip your head around, blinking in disbelief. “What?” The word comes out more like a squeak than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Did he just agree with Vinicius? Jude? The guy who’s been nothing but an insufferable thorn in your side since the day you met?

Vinicius claps his hands, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, I’ll be there for the wedding, just so you know. Probably the only one who isn’t surprised when it happens.” He winks and then, as if he’s completed his matchmaking mission, strolls away, leaving you alone with Jude.

You stand there, arms still crossed, trying to process what just happened. “He’s lost his mind,” you mutter more to yourself than to Jude.

“Maybe,” Jude says, his voice annoyingly casual. “But he’s not completely wrong.”

You turn to glare at him, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me? You seriously think that?”

He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t know. You seem a bit obsessed with me. Can’t blame you though.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Obsessed? Please. I just can’t stand your face.”

Jude’s smirk widens, clearly entertained by your reaction. “Funny, because you keep staring at it. Not exactly convincing.”

You feel your cheeks burn. “I’m staring because I’m trying to figure out how someone can be so irritating and full of themselves.”

“Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that,” he says with a lazy grin, leaning in just a bit closer. “You know, maybe Vini’s right. We’ve got that whole ‘enemies to lovers’ thing going on.”

You narrow your eyes at him, determined to hold your ground. “I don’t think it will ever happen, fortunately.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “If you say so. But let’s be honest, this back and forth? It’s kinda fun, isn’t it?”

You open your mouth to argue, but you hesitate. Because deep down, you know he’s right. But admitting that would be giving him exactly what he wants, and there’s no way you’re doing that.

"Let me take you out one night” He says out of nowhere.

You blink, caught completely off guard by his sudden suggestion. “What?” Your voice is sharper than intended, laced with both surprise and suspicion.

Jude’s smirk doesn’t falter. In fact, it widens, clearly satisfied with your reaction.

“You know, for Vini’s sake. Give him the peace of mind that his matchmaking finally worked.”

You cross your arms tighter, trying to hold onto your defiance. “We’re not gonna be friends, Jude.”Jude’s grin shifts, turning into something a little more mischievous, a little more intense. “You’re right,” he says, his voice lowering slightly as he steps closer, closing the gap between you. “We’re not gonna be just friends.”

#x reader #fanfic #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham blurb #one shot #enemies to lovers #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x you

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moonxytcn · 5 months ago

Text

Shadows of Dragonstone

| Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader

summary – You have been Rhaenyra's servant since you were a child and you will always be there for her, no matter what

tags & warnings – rhaenyra x fem!servant!reader, angst, a little dark themes?, fluffy if you squint your eyes.

a/n – I'm just back in my era of love for her. My queen! 🤭

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned post

ㅤㅤ✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

–––

The halls of Dragonstone are cold and silent, a far cry from the warmth and bustling life of King's Landing. Here, the stone walls seem to echo the turmoil in your heart, reflecting the stark isolation that Rhaenyra must feel. She has always been a flame in the darkness, a beacon of strength and defiance, but now, that flame flickers dangerously low.

You have been her personal servant since childhood, a constant presence by her side. The bond you share goes beyond duty; it is a secret love forged in the crucible of court intrigues and whispered promises. It began on that fateful night when Daemon took her to the house of pleasure, a night that changed everything between you. Now, with Harwin Strong's departure to Harrenhal, Rhaenyra's heart aches with a new kind of pain, one that you feel deeply within your own soul.

The morning is bleak as you approach her chambers, carrying a tray of breakfast. You hesitate at the door, listening for any sound from within. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the distant roar of the sea. Taking a deep breath, you knock gently before entering.

Rhaenyra sits by the window, her silhouette framed against the grey sky. Her eyes are distant, lost in thoughts you can only guess at. The fire in the hearth struggles to warm the room, much like your presence struggles to warm her heart these days.

"Good morning, Princess." You say softly, setting the tray on a small table. "I brought you breakfast."

She turns her gaze to you, and for a moment, the mask of the future queen slips, revealing the vulnerable woman beneath. "Thank you." She murmurs, but makes no move to eat.

You approach her cautiously, your heart aching at the sight of her so desolate. "Rhaenyra." You whisper, daring to reach out and touch her hand. "Please, you must take care of yourself."

She looks at you, and the pain in her eyes is almost unbearable. "I am tired." She admits, her voice barely audible. "So very tired of losing those I care about."

You kneel beside her, your fingers entwining with hers. "You are not alone." You say, your voice fierce with the depth of your feelings. "I am here. I will always be here."

Her grip tightens on your hand, and for a moment, it seems as if she might break down. But Rhaenyra Targaryen is nothing if not resilient. She takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders, the mask slipping back into place. "We must be strong," she says, though you can hear the strain in her voice. "For the realm."

You nod, understanding the weight of her words. "For the realm." You echo, though in your heart, it is for her that you would do anything.

The days pass in a blur of duties and stolen moments. You do your best to be a comfort to her, to remind her of the warmth and love that still exists in the world, even in the shadow of Dragonstone. It is a delicate balance, keeping your relationship hidden from prying eyes while giving her the solace she so desperately needs.

One night, as you help her prepare for bed, she turns to you with a look of determination. "I need to feel alive again." She says, her voice trembling with emotion. "Will you help me?"

You nod, your heart pounding. "Always." You whisper.

She leads you to the bed, her hands shaking slightly as she begins to undress. You follow her lead, your own nerves taut with anticipation and fear. This is different from the secret moments you've shared before. There is a desperation in her touch, a need to forget the pain if only for a little while.

As you lie together in the dim light of the chamber, you hold her close, your bodies entwined. Her tears dampen your skin, and you kiss them away, each touch a silent promise of love and loyalty. In the darkness, the walls of Dragonstone seem to fade, leaving just the two of you in a world of your own making.

Afterward, you lie together, her head resting on your chest. The storm outside rages on, but here, in this moment, there is a fragile peace. "Thank you." She whispers, her voice breaking. "For being here. For loving me."

You kiss the top of her head, your own tears mingling with hers. "Always." You repeat, the word a vow.

But peace in Dragonstone is fleeting. The next day brings more bad news, more reasons for Rhaenyra to steel herself against the world. You stand by her side, offering what comfort you can, but the shadows are ever present, threatening to consume you both.

One evening, as you sit together in front of the hearth, she takes your hand in hers. "I fear I will lose you too." She admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

You squeeze her hand, your heart aching with the weight of her fears. "I am not going anywhere." You promise. "No matter what happens, I will be by your side."

She looks at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and sorrow. "Promise me." She says, her voice trembling. "Promise me that you will stay."

"I promise." You say, the words a binding oath. "I will never leave you."

The days grow shorter, and the nights colder, as the weight of the realm's troubles presses down on you both. But through it all, you hold onto each other, finding strength in the love that binds you.

One night, as the storm outside rages, you wake to find Rhaenyra standing by the window, her silhouette a dark shadow against the flickering light of the fire. You rise and go to her, wrapping your arms around her waist. She leans into you, her body trembling with unspoken fears.

"We will get through this." You whisper, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Together."

She turns in your arms, her eyes searching yours. "I do not know what I would do without you." She admits, her voice breaking.

"You will never have to find out." You say, your voice firm with conviction. "I am yours, Rhaenyra. Now and always."

She kisses you then, a desperate, searching kiss that speaks of all the things words cannot express. You hold her close, pouring all your love and devotion into that kiss, hoping to banish the darkness that surrounds you both.

As the storm rages on, you make love again, finding solace in each other's arms. In the heat of your passion, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by love and necessity.

In the aftermath, as you lie together, spent and sated, she turns to you, her eyes soft with affection. "Thank you." She whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

You smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Always." You say, the word a promise and a vow.

The storms of Dragonstone may rage on, and the shadows may threaten to consume you, but in each other, you find the strength to carry on. Together, you face the darkness, knowing that your love is a light that will never be extinguished.

And in the end, that is enough.

#moonxytcn writes #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x you #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #team black

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