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anantaru · 6 months

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OH BABY! PLEASE BE MY BABY DADDY

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — the very moment wriothesley first saw you, he had already dreamt about starting a family with you, and now at present, when you were celebrating your two year anniversary, it appeared like he couldn't stop himself from showing you just how much he craved it.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 2.1k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, established relationship, very strong breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy & mentions of starting a family with you (planning your future), madly in love wriothesley, rough syx, unprotected and hitting it raw, some teasing here and there, overstimulation, cumming inside

"‘had me all figured out, didn't you?"

wriothesley was a strong man, big and muscular from an external perspective and fundamentally— if you weren't quite familiar with the handsome duke and his deep characteristics and only knew of him through his significant work occupation.

in essence, you have known him for a little over two years now, in fact, your anniversary was just taking place this very moment, his absorbed little countenance fixated on no other than your ethereal beauty— on top of that, a trace was playing hard on the impulses lingering on your lower areas as wriothesley settles himself in between your legs, feeling a rising of your hips grinding over his exposed erection, throbbing in time to his quickening pulse.

how fast a day could fly by, and you wished for it to go on much longer— just show him the love that surged from your core and resides inside of you, or the soft tremor building on your knees whenever he kisses you, or when he at last, catches the shuddering sweetness wringing off your toes.

for wriothesley, you ignited his heart, it was you that made love warm for him— as he always claimed it should be, and on the coldest nights of his life, he had sought after your familiar glow— much deeper could he barely await the day for you both to start a family, have children of your own and live a fulfilled life somewhere outside the city, perhaps a house on the outskirts of fontaine, with a large blossoming garden bristling of rainbow roses, where your children could play to their hearts content.

within this deep fantasy, although yet ungrasped, wriothesley found this to be his perfect goal— no matter how near, how far away, it shall never be forgotten.

you slowly press two palms on top of his cheeks as he looms over you with a raised eyebrow that he lazily flashed at you with a hum.

"you say it like it's a bad thing that i knew you were gonna surprise me, baby,"

you add, "it's our anniversary after all," with a steady glide of fingers through his silken hair, "i hope you didn't think I forgot all about it,"

a low purr hums over your lips as your boyfriend clicks his tongue through a deep chuckle as a response, vibrating his sounds against a breathless gasp as he places a featherlight kiss on your bottom lip. you feel how the pad of his thumb crosses firmly over the shape of your curves as your heart begins to thump faster at the privilege of having such breathtakingly handsome and ravishing man in between your legs.

"of course i know you didn't forget," wriothesley's hand inches towards the inside of your thigh to touch the skin while simultaneously parting your legs a little more as he kisses the bridge of your nose,

"happy anniversary, baby,"

you giggle, kissing him needfully as you slide your naked folds through his aching length when he effortlessly cages you in between two muscular arms, pressing his throbbing member all against you until his constricted balls bounce on your ass, eliciting a needful, much longing groan from the man towering on top of you.

"i need you," you complain now, "please baby, don't keep me waiting now,"

you squeal loudly at the temporary relief of your drenched cunt slicking him up with your arousal— and the more you'd douse him up, the better it would feel like, the finer you could taste and sense his throbbing veins grazing at your sensitive walls while he stuffs you— and every mindless urge wriothesley had fantasized about was manifesting itself, the dream to greedily pull apart and taste every soft piece of your body trembling under his much larger one growing.

or the lewd dream of cramming you with his milky whites, jamming his salty cum all into the pits of your wet sex until he's sure you'll end up pregnant, until you will feel your womb be all warm and jammed up.

"you make me the happiest man alive," wriothesley says soothingly, drawing the leaking head of his cock against your hole before brushing a kiss over your lips, fuck, just the smell of you, or those candid whines and begs of yours that would drive him mad, turning him on so damn much that his groin was beginning to ache and swell even more.

"so baby.." wriothesley whispers in one slow, silent motion, when he claims the space between your spread thighs with all his body surging forward and crowding your cunt.

"please let me show you just how happy you make me,"

you whine out as your back arches into his chest, your weeping cunt clenching down when he rubs his cock through your walls without much effort, the copious amounts of wetness aiding him wonderfully as the deep friction of getting stuffed turned you terribly delicious to him, your eyes criss crossed from being fucked with repeated thrusts into your cunt plugging his thick shaft deep.

"—still so sensitive," he coos, and you feel your face grow hot as your boyfriend smirks down at you through assured pairs of eyes, your body itching to feel more of that sensation, more of skin to skin as you slip each little noise falling from the tip of your tongue right into wriothesley's parted mouth gasping for air.

a dizzying contrast from the firing shoves through the tight ring of muscles on your cunt made his rigid erection go deeper than ever, with his hand remaining firmly beneath your cheek, forcing your gaze straight ahead— so you could look at him, so wriothesley could make sure he drinks in everything that you gave him, each crumbling moan of his name and higher pitch of your voice.

do you wonder why? of course, such question was easy to answer:

the sole reason being that for wriothesley— this was a privilege, that you allowed him to pleasure you, rub firmly over the shape of your walls while his wet tongue blindly maps into your mouth, your body rapidly growing addicted to the impossible smoothness of his skin greedily imposing true bliss on your body.

"i want— fuck," he groans through gritted teeth, "i want us to start a family," he speaks again, "want to put a baby in you," this time louder but with an added amount of gravel to his voice as your legs wrap and close around him as the burning stretch of his thick shaft parting you had you turn absolutely mad and dizzy.

you whine out, completely lost in the pleasure of getting fucked that open wide and especially through his lewd admittance, his hips rolling hard against your used pussy in relentless fucks forward, almost possessively to match his large weight that he kept from bouncing on top of you with his hands keeping him from crushing down and practically collapsing on you.

"i love you," you cry when your pussy twitches wildly, your hot and sticky arousal messing him up, "please, please do!" your breath burning hot and ragged against your throat, "please put a baby in me!" as wriothesley groans— wanting you more than ever, thrusting his length down to a raw, quivering need that shook your limbs apart and tore lewd sounds from the gaps between frantic gulps of air.

your body bounces back and forth the bed, your moans now much louder and broken as wriothesley pants hotly against your clenched jaw, your impatient hands finding refuge in his silken hair as you force him into a kiss, his cock ruthlessly battering your velvety walls— drawing his hips back and forth, back and forth, always nudging his cockhead against the sponge of your sweet spot.

"almost there," wriothesley rasps urgently, "going to fill you up so fucking nicely," he smirks and cuts off your needy gasps with another sharp, punctuated thrust.

the duke was indulging in how warm and soft you were, how nice it felt to be milked by a wet cunt smearing dozen amounts of fluids on the thin skin of his shaft, how you grip him with your weeping cunt, holding onto him so tightly that the duke thought he was about to pass out before you suddenly lessen the clench on his shaft, now alternating between gaping and constricting your pussy hole.

with a flurry full of intense spasms that you felt more inside than out, you cling on to wriothesley's defined back as his body kept going, his addictive thrusts infusing a bone-deep shudder that pinched your upcoming release— the precise attention he always have you, utterly intoxicating, dragging his fully hard cock in and out, in and out, his eyes darkened and drunk from pleasure as he groans out each time your cunt constricts around him, your addictive gasps aiding his pleasure as you moan out beautifully, your hole completely open as he pushes you over the edge with alarming speed.

his cock plunges and fuses into you as far as it could possibly go as he turns your stomach around, hitting the bristling bubble that had long since developed in the depths of your belly when it finally popped into a million pieces, your overstimulated hips helplessly rutting upwards as he swallows those tasteful mewls of yours, your hands tugging his face closer to you.

your orgasm slams you hard with a roaring intensity that nearly doubled you over, your fingers tugging so sharply at wriothesley's hair that you felt a softly pained groan vibrate through his lips as he kisses you in fierce hunger, keeping the pace of his cock steady and surging back and forth, your parted lips looking swollen and flushed with use as you kiss him with all the burning need climbing between your frames when you come undone together.

"there you go, sweetheart," he groans proudly, a slow smile breaking across his ruined lips when he fills you up with his warm seed— watching how you're so fucking drunk on his cock that you make him fill up each inch of space in between your weeping pussy, an engaging hotness coursing into your womb as you thread your fingers through his tousled hair gone and disheveled with sweat and the scent of you.

ugh, you realize you want it as bad as he did, always wanted his thrumming cock to crowd you up just as it did now, with his messy and sticky mess oozing down your hole and seeping everywhere— just how you actually longed for it to be everywhere, slithering from your skin into every curve and crevice, so wriothesley could not only knock you up, but also claim you— in some sort of demonstration of his undying love and his desire, the searing fervour of his white cum making you wince as tears collect in your eyes, the slow pumps of his cock overwhelming you as your walls hug him tight.

wriothesley keeps himself nestled deep in your cunt at your afterglow— and the reason was not unlikely to be revealed, because he believed that if he never were to pull out, you'd definitely get pregnant since the majority of sticky cum had no chance to ever exit your swollen pussy when he just keeps himself plugged in for much longer.

the gravel in his voice adopts a sultriness, spelling sweet nothings into your ear, calling you his good girl as he spilled it aöl into your lips when you smile at him all sweetly and shy, all flustered too with the mess in between your legs dousing down the soiled mattress.

"just imagine, my love," this particular delivery of his sentence was different now, each wording was practically dripping of adoration and hefty of his love for ypu, it was much softer as well despite wriothesley still being out of breath— and you simply look at him through a meaningful smile, heels resting against his back as you could still feel him deeply pulsate inside of you.

"imagining it right now," you respond when he silently slides one large palm down to your stomach before pressing hot kisses on your lips.

"i hope our little one gets your pretty eyes," he whispers lowly, his lips meeting yours right after.

it's quite silly, wriothesley thinks, that he cannot stop talking about it, nor stop dreaming about it either, or how unbelievably madly in love he was, how there would always be a beast inside of him that resided in his heart, that would crave you so badly.

after all the suffering in his life, you are his souls greatest desire, his bodies, his minds biggest passion, and for you to one day carry his child, was everything he wished for.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin drabbles #genshin impact x you #wriothesley x you #genshin x you #genshin impact wriothesley x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfics #wriothesley x y/n

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mythology-void · 4 months

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okay so I was doing a Research™️ about ancient Greek etymology as one does and I found some Things that made me want to Violently Claw My Arms Off please allow me to force feed you my discoveries

So there are 2 words for "not" in ancient Greek, depending on the context: ou and mē. Having introduced himself in the Cyclops episode as " ou tis", or No-man, he then stabs Polyphemus in the eye. When Polyphemus' brothers come to check on him, they say this:

"... surely no man [mē tis] is carrying off your sheep? Surely no man [mē tis] is trying to kill you either by fraud or by force?"

Right after this, after the other cyclopes ditch Polyphemus, Odysseus's inner monologue goes something like this:

"Then they went away, and I laughed inwardly at the success of my clever strategem [metis]." (pronounced mEH-Tis)

Now, there's a difference between mē tis and metis. [mē tis] (pronounced mEH-Tis with a space between the syllables) is the literal translation for "no man". Metis is a word for extreme intelligence/cunning, which is something Odysseus is famous for.

Now, there are several examples of abuse of metis/intelligence in the Odyssey, but I think the juxtaposition between [mē tis], or the concept of anonymity, and metis, or extreme intelligence, is REALLY interesting. Odysseus's adoption of the title "No-man" was characteristic of metis--it was a really smart move that simultaneously hid him from the cyclops and avoided any future consequences. It was a highly effective strategy all wrapped up in a nest little package with a bow on it.

But when he revealed himself as Odysseus of Ithaca, effectively throwing off No-man (anonymity and [mē tis]), that was characterized as idiocy--he's essentially doxxed himself, and now he's doing to (spoiler alert) get tossed around the Mediterranean by Poseidon for the next 10 years.

This is really interesting because it lets you see the parallels/codependency between metis(intelligence) and humility. When Odysseus refused to allow himself to go unnoticed (hubris) he suffered for it. BUT when he declined instant glory/satisfaction (kleos) in order to achieve the long term goal of survival, he was rewarded with Athena's favor (pay attention. This part is important).

And this situation repeats itself MULTIPLE TIMES in the Odyssey--the EXACT SAME THING happens near the end of the book, with the suitors. When. Odysseus is dressed as a beggar and the suitors/Antinious are abusing him, he ACTIVELY CHOOSES not to react--he doesn't stand up and rip off his disguise and start hollering "TIS I, ODYSSEUS OF ITHACA! FEAR MY WRATH"

No. He sits there patiently and waits. He plans and schemes and quietly orchestrates their downfall without alerting them of it. Why? Because he learned his lesson the first time this happened. He buried his rage and adopted what was, according to Grace LA Franz, a more feminine form of metis, weaving a web of destruction for his enemies that ultimately resulted in their total annihilation (see Weaving a Way to Nostos: Odysseus and Feminine Metis in the Odyssey by Grace LaFranz). His patience allowed him to win the whole prize--no questions asked, no 10-year-long-business-trip strings attached--just the sweetness of a full victory. And he is, once again, rewarded with Athena's favor--both in the battle with the suitors and in the aftermath (cleanup/reuniting with Penelope).

This really reinforces the idea in the Odyssey that Odysseus's defining characteristic is not just his intelligence--it's his ability to learn from his mistakes. He used what he learned at the Lotus Eaters Island against Polyphemus--the Lotus Eaters drugged his men, so he drugged Polyphemus. He used what he learned from Circe and Polyphemus against the suitors--Circe used false sweetness and honeyed words to lure his men into a trap, so that's exactly what he did to the suitors. His hubris on Polyphemus' island cost his whole crew their lives, so he intentionally left well enough alone until the right time. He didn't just learn from his failures--he turned them into BATTLE STRATEGY.

i don't care what anyone says that is completely totally and objectively awesome

#Odysseus is a certified baddie 112% of the time #he's literally the coolest you can't convince me otherwise #there's a reason that literally everyone has a crush on him #even the lesbians #its the wordplay. his words #read me a poem in iambic pentameter you bloody stinky man #literally everyone: his sad wet vibes and dark undereye circles have captivated me entirely #odysseus #the odyssey #tagamemnon #odysseus x penelope #telemachus #epic the musical #the cyclops saga #odysseus of ithaca #poseidon #etymology #ancient greece #ancient history

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lightsoutnaway · 2 months

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Am I Good for You?

PAIRING: Oscar Piastri x reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, praise, p in v, fingering, safe word mention, edging, unprotected sex, use of ‘sir’,

SUMMARY: Oscar talks to Lando about his sex life and starts worrying that he’s not pleasing you. You decide to try things a little rougher.

WORD COUNT: 3,102

“Do you think I’m good at sex?”

Oscar asked the question as soon as he walked through the door. You laughed. He hadn’t even said ‘hello.’

“What are you talking about, Osc?” You asked. You were sitting at the counter flipping through a magazine.

“Do you think I’m good at sex?” Oscar repeated.

“Is this some kind of foreplay? It’s not really working,” you joked. Oscar looked truly distressed though. He sat down on the stool beside yours at the counter.

“Baby, I’m serious. Is it—Am I good for you?” He asked.

“Where’s this coming from?” You asked. Oscar had never done anything that made you suspect him of being insecure before.

“I was talking to Lando today,” Oscar admitted. You sighed.

“Oscar, Lando’s crazy,” you reminded your boyfriend.

“I know, but he was talking about some of the things he does,” Oscar started. “And he was really surprised that we hadn’t ever done any of them.”

“Okay?” You waited for something more. Oscar sighed.

“The way he looked at me just made me feel like he knew that I was disappointing you without ever asking you,” he told you.

“Well, he doesn’t know that because you’ve never disappointed me, Osc,” you said firmly.

“But do you get everything you want from me?” Oscar pushed. “I don’t do anything special.”

“Did Lando tell you that?” You questioned. You needed to have a word with the sassy little brit.

“No, but he might as well have,” Oscar said.

“What is it that he said?” You pushed.

“It wasn’t one thing,” Oscar told you. “He was just listing off all the things he does with his partners and…I’d never done any of them with you.” He dropped his shoulders. “I feel like I’ve been doing it all wrong.”

“Is there something you want us to do?” You asked. Oscar shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just—I thought I knew what you wanted, but I…I guess I never asked you.”

“What did you think I wanted?” You questioned. Oscar looked up at you. He had been avoiding your eyes for the last few minutes.

“I thought you wanted—I don’t know—I thought you should be treated like a princess,” Oscar finally said. You smiled at this revelation.

“You’re always so careful with me,” you said fondly.

“I thought I should be. You’re not just some fling,” he told you. “I don’t want you to feel like I don’t care about you.”

“I always feel like you care about me,” you assured him.

“But are you satisfied? Do you want more from me?”

“Do you want more?” You asked. “You’re more experienced than me, Oscar.”

“Don’t think about me,” he said. “I’ve always kept it….soft…with you.” He was quiet for a moment. “But I haven’t ever asked you if that’s what you want, and I should have,” Oscar reiterated his earlier thought. “So, baby,” he started. “What do you want?” Your eyes widened. The question was far too direct for your shy personality.

“I don’t know,” you replied quickly. “I like what we do.” Oscar smirked. You answered too quickly. You did know what you wanted.

“I do too,” he assured you. “But we could do other things. I’ve always taken the lead, baby,” Oscar said. “What’s something you think about when I’m gone?”

“Oscar, I always think about you,” you said, thinking that it was the most obvious thing in the world. Oscar grinned.

“C’mon, baby,” Oscar said. “Just because you weren’t experienced when you met me doesn’t mean you didn’t have naughty thoughts.”

“Oscar Jack Piastri, what are you saying about me?” You questioned. Oscar chuckled. His eyes were twinkling as he looked at you.

“I know you said I was the first person to make you come,” Oscar said.

“Don’t brag.” He chuckled.

“But I was second,” Oscar continued. “I think we both know the first person to make you come was you.” You blushed. Oscar was simultaneously turning you on and filling your chest with nerves. “You had fantasies before you met me.” Oscar’s eyes were hungry. “Tell me.” You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Oscar, I don’t want to,” you whispered shyly.

“Why not, love?” He asked.

“I like what we do…and it’s embarrassing,” you mumbled.

“It’s embarrassing to tell me something you want from me?” Oscar questioned.

“Yes!” You whined.

“Why, baby? Don’t you trust me?” Oscar pushed. Your eyes softened.

“Of course I trust you, but…” You trailed off.

“But what?” Oscar pushed.

“You think I’m so innocent, but…” you started. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I want you to be a little…rougher…with me,” you admitted. “But I don’t want you to think I’m dirty. I like being your innocent baby.”

“It’s okay to be dirty, kitten,” Oscar assured you quickly. “And you can still be my innocent baby.” He reached out and took your hands. “But you want me to be rough with you?” He asked cautiously. Oscar had never tried being rough with you. It didn’t seem right to him. You were so sweet and innocent in his eyes. Your cheeks were burning and you couldn’t meet his eyes as you said the words though. Oscar was sure you were telling the truth.

“If that’s okay…” you whispered. Oscar kept his eyes on you, hoping he could draw another admission out of you if he just stayed quiet. “And maybe you could…make me…beg…a little.” Oscar’s face lit up.

“What do you want to beg for?” He asked at once. You raised an eyebrow. It seemed you had stumbled upon something he wanted too.

“Umm…Why don’t you pick?” You offered. Oscar grinned.

“You want me to be in charge?” He asked. He’d never been submissive between the two of you, but he’d never been particularly dominant either. The balance between you had always been fairly even. You nodded shyly.

“Please,” you squeaked out.

“My naughty baby,” Oscar started taunting. “All this time I thought you were so innocent.” His hands were on you now, sliding up your thighs. You pushed your knees together, as if that would keep him from knowing just how turned on you were.

“Oscar,” you whispered. You weren’t sure what you even meant to ask for.

“But you’re not completely innocent, are you?” Oscar teased you. “Just had this little head full of naughty thoughts while I was treating you so nice.” Oscar could tell by the way you were looking at him that he already had you wrapped around his finger. “Bedroom. Now.” Oscar had never given you a command that way, even in your most heated moments. It was turning you on though, and Oscar could see that. You quickly hurried down the hall. When you got to the bedroom you turned around and looked at Oscar, waiting for further instructions.

“We should have a safe word, shouldn’t we?” Oscar asked you. His new dominant facade wasn’t there. This was your sweet caring Oscar who always wanted you to be okay.

“How about ‘papaya?’” You offered. Oscar chuckled. He had closed the space between you. His hands fell onto your hips.

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. “You can tell me any time you don’t like something, okay? I won’t be mad.” You nodded. “I want to hear it,” he requested.

“I’ll tell you if I don’t like something,” you assured him.

“Good girl,” he praised. Your eyes went wide and you looked down. Oscar ducked to meet your eyes. “You like that, huh?” He asked. “Should’ve told me that before, kitten.” He gripped the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head in one smooth motion. You had been at home all day and you hadn’t put on a bra, so Oscar was blessed with the sight of your plush breasts. Your nipples hardened in the cool air of your bedroom. You started to wrap your arms around yourself as a shiver passed over you. Oscar smiled. “Cold?”

“A little,” you said. Oscar grabbed your hips, pushing you back towards the bed till he’d gotten you laid out on your back.

“I’ll warm you up.” He grabbed the waistband to your sweatpants and tugged them down with your underwear. He looked down at your naked body. He never got enough of your body. You were a work of art to him. You were the object of every one of his fantasies. He couldn’t help but stare.

“Yours too,” you called up nervously. Oscar met your eyes and smiled smugly. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he pulled his shirt off. His chest was tight and muscular and he flexed his arms as he tossed his shirt to the side. He started to climb on the bed, but you whined. He looked down at you, waiting for you to explain. “All of it.” You told him. He chuckled before taking his pants off, leaving himself as bare as he had you.

Oscar climbed up the bed once he was naked and laid his body over yours, his weight holding you in place. He had his forearms planted on either side of your head and he leaned down to kiss you. He was soft and sweet with his kisses, contrasting sharply from the dominance he was exhibiting everywhere else. You let out a small sigh of pleasure into the kiss and Oscar chuckled against your lips. He started kissing down your neck and body.

Oscar’s lips fell around your nipple. He sucked and licked at the hardened flesh, bringing a tingling feeling all over your skin. You could feel the burn spreading between your legs and you tried to push them together, but found your knees were blocked by Oscar’s hips. He sensed your intention immediately. He lifted one hand and slid it down between your legs.

“Osc,” you moaned softly at the mere idea of him touching your most sensitive spots. He laughed against your body. He had moved to your other nipple after he felt he had paid enough attention to the first. You were already whimpering and whining under his electric touch. His fingers had found your dripping hole but he refused to slip them inside. You whined in protest, shifting your hips up to signal what you wanted.

“Shh,” he hushed you sharply. You closed your mouth at once. He had never displayed anything like disapproval before. Instinctually, you wanted to please him. He continued to tease your entrance, his lips moving back to yours. You were growing impatient when you finally realized what he was waiting for.

“Please touch me, Oscar,” you murmured against his lips. Oscar smirked. That was all it took for him to slide his fingers inside your warmth. You arched your back and moaned loudly at the feeling of finally being touched in the way you truly wanted.

Oscar slowly started pumping his fingers in and out of you. You were whimpering under his lazy movements, desperate for him to give you more. He kissed your neck, surely making marks that would be seen in any photos taken at the race in the upcoming weekend.

“Are you feeling good?” Oscar asked. His voice was low and gravelly and his accent made his words sound even sexier. You nodded. He gave you a look that told you he was expecting a vocal answer.

“Really good,” you called up. Oscar started pumping his fingers faster. You whimpered. He pushed his thumb against your clit. You whined embarrassingly loud for the fact that he didn’t move it. He snickered at your reaction.

“You’re so fucking sensitive,” Oscar commented. He was saying it more to himself than you—it was like he was bragging to himself. He knew that he was the only one who had ever had you in this state.

The tension in your body was rising and you knew your orgasm was coming. You arched your back, throwing your head into the pillows and clutching at Oscar’s body. You were just on the precipice when suddenly, Oscar wasn’t touching you anymore. You opened your eyes and stared at him, but you were met only with a cocky smirk.

“Why?” You whined.

“You don’t come until I decide you do tonight,” Oscar said. “That’s what you’re begging for.” You closed your mouth and nodded dutifully.

“Yes, sir.” You let the nickname fall off your lips with ease—you didn’t even plan on saying it but there it was on your tongue. Oscar grinned when he heard you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Oscar groaned. “You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” You nodded quickly.

“Really good, sir,” you agreed. He chuckled.

“Then right now, be quiet,” Oscar said. That was all the warning you got before he was thrusting his fingers into your quickly, his thumb moving quickly against your clit. You whined loudly. “Shh.” The way he was hushing you was driving you up the wall and you clenched around his fingers. Oscar felt it and was spurred on. He moved faster with the hopes of drawing out another moan that he could hush you for.

After Oscar had gotten his fill of hushing you he told you to moan again, not wanting to miss out on the beautiful sounds you made. He drew you to the edge again, spurred on by the moans he could draw from you once he had told you not to be quiet.

Oscar couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He thought he might have been transported to heaven given how beautiful the sight in front of him was. Your face was contorted in pleasure, your eyes watering. Your fingers were dug into the sheets and your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead. You were whimpering and whining in ecstasy and every little ‘please’ and ‘Oscar’ that fell from your lips made him even harder. His thumb was slowly rubbing back and forth over your clit as he kept fingering you steadily. He could feel you tightening around his fingers and he knew he was bringing you towards the edge again.

“Osc,” you murmured more strongly than your small whispers. You knew that he knew you were about to cum. He’d always known your body so well.

“Yes?” He called down with a sly smirk on his face. You scowled at him, knowing he was teasing you.

“Oscar, please.” Oscar smirked.

“Please, what?” He asked.

“Please can I—ungh!” You gasped when Oscar rubbed the pads of his fingers against your walls.

“Can you what?” Oscar taunted.

“Please can I cum, sir?” You spit out.

“No, I don’t think so,” Oscar teased as he pulled his thumb away. You cried out in protest. Oscar stopped thrusting his fingers, and pulled them out of your heat. Oscar watched as your chest heaved, trying to recover from the sudden theft of pleasure. “God, I should’ve been playing with you like this since we met,” Oscar groaned.

“Please,” you whined. “I want to come.”

“Oh, I know, kitten,” Oscar cooed. You sniffled slightly, a single tear slipping down your cheek. Oscar reached up and wiped it away. “Is it too much?” He checked. His voice was softer. You were quiet for a moment.

“No,” you admitted quietly. Oscar smiled, but he was worried that you were just saying it to please him.

“You promise me, kitten?” He pushed. You nodded.

“I promise, Osc,” you said. Oscar smiled in approval and kissed you.

“You want my cock now, baby?” He asked.

“Please,” you said in a gasping breath. Oscar was going wild at the desperation in your voice. He couldn’t bring himself to tease anymore so he lined himself up with you. He looked into your eyes as he slowly slipped himself into you. He moved slowly as he pushed in, making the most indulgent moan you had ever heard from him.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he groaned. He was right. You could hear the slosh of your juices with every thrust Oscar made.

“I’m not going to last long,” you whined.

“I know, kitten,” Oscar said. He grabbed your legs and pushed them up against your chest. You let out a sharp cry at the sudden change in angle. You cried out Oscar’s name and dug your fingers into his arms, surely leaning bruises. Oscar could feel you clenching down on him and he knew you were nearing your peak. He looked deep into your tear brimmed eyes. You felt the panic of having your orgasm stolen from you again. Oscar’s eyes were dark as they stared into yours.

“Beg.” His voice was low and gravelly and firm and you were sure there wasn’t a person in the world who could have denied him.

“Please, sir. Please make come. I need it so bad. I need you. I need your cum. Please, Osc,” you were crying and whimpering the words out, terrified of the idea of having the burning pleasure you felt taken from you again.

“Where do you need my cum?” Oscar pushed.

“Inside me! Inside, Osc, please!” You cried. Your body was on fire, your mind outside your body. Oscar grinned at your words.

“Come.” Oscar’s order was the sweetest sound you ever heard and you let the tsunami of pleasure Oscar had built for you wash over your body. You were shaking and crying, your hips pushing up into his. You tightened down on Oscar and he gasped, letting himself go to the sounds of you chanting his name over and over.

You weren’t sure how long it was after you came but you found yourself back in your body with Oscar lying on top of you. He was pressing soft kisses to the crook of your neck where his head was resting comfortably. Somehow he knew that you had calmed down the moment it happened.

“How was that for you?” He asked. You laughed.

“Are you joking, Osc?” You asked. “That’s the best sex we’ve ever had.” He chuckled back.

“I didn’t want to assume,” he replied. You noticed the bruises you’d made on his arms and you gently ran your fingertips over them.

“I think we owe Lando a ‘thank you,’” you said. Oscar laughed.

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” You turned your head down to find Oscar’s eyes looking into yours.

“You better not tell him everything,” you threatened. Oscar smiled.

“There’s no secrets between teammates,” he teased.

“There is if you want to do that again,” you said. Oscar smirked.

“I think we just established that you’re the one who does the begging.” You smirked right back at him.

“Maybe this time. But Lando was right. There’s lots we haven’t tried.”

#oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader smut #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri imagine

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riki-dazed · 3 months

Text

You and your new boyfriend, Riki, decide to progress your somewhat secretive relationship

fluffy and very suggestive ♡ wc: 1k

You hear the front door to the dorm open and shut, and with an overly excited smile playing on your face, you hurry off the bed you were sprawled across.

Riki's face lights up when he turns his body and notices your figure before him in the livingroom. He greets you, pulling you into a comforting hug almost immediately after dropping his bag by the sofa.

"Since when did you have the courage to sneak in by yourself?" He teases, you can't see it but you can most definitely feel his smile pressed against the skin of your neck. He leaves soft pecks along it as your hands meet behind his back.

"Jay let me in this morning," You reply sheepishly, your gaze trailing off to focus on things behind the boy in your grasp.

Your partner in crime also made sure to let you know, with a wink, that Riki would be the first to arrive back to the dorm that evening, since the others were going to be out until later in the night.

The thought of having Riki all to yourself, finally, was enough to send your mind spiralling all afternoon as you hung out in his room waiting around.

Your boyfriend laughs at your reply, his face staying nuzzled in the crook of your neck. Though, you could sense something about his mood and energy was off.

You can tell he had endured a long day of dancing by the way his body is clinging to yours, the whine he lets out as you pull out of his embrace confirms it for you. With his hand in yours, you gently walk him over to the sofa.

"Sit,"

He follows your command, his gaze staying intently locked on you, not leaving your figure as you step into the kitchen to get him a drink.

"Did you want something to eat? Takeout?"

He shakes his head lightly while simultaneously taking the glass of water you've offered him,

"later- thank you, my love,"

You feel your face warm up as you join him on the sofa, there was nothing more you loved than having Riki calling you his love.

His head falls onto your shoulder with a huff, and you let the exhausted boy rest for a couple of moments, snuggly cuddled into your side.

"Did you want me to rub your shoulders?" You offer shortly afterwards, your voice quiet and calming as you fiddle with his long fingers that rest on your lap.

You didn't like knowing he was sore and in pain, you'd do anything to help ease the tension. Your instinct to take care of him has already kicked in, there's no way of stopping it now.

A barely noticeable smile creeps onto his face, his eyes flutter open. He's obviously excited but his exhaustion is preventing him from expressing that. He nods eagerly on your shoulder as he's looking up at you, his endearing reaction making you chuckle.

You hold your breath as your smile begins to slowly fade, the sight of Riki's fingers unbuttoning his shirt catches you off guard.

"Ah, Riki.. y-you can keep it on if you're more c-comfortable that way-"

You've seen your boyfriend topless only a handful of times, considering it hasn't really been that long since he had asked you to be his little secret. Everything is still new to the both of you.

Riki doesn't reply, though, the smirk on his face speaks for itself. Your face warms yet again as you think back to your stuttering from moments ago, it was humiliating but he enjoyed every bit of it. Almost as much he's currently enjoying having your eyes scan his bare torso.

You thought you were pretty decent at hiding your thoughts away to yourself throughout the beginning of this relationship.. but little do you know he's aware of exactly how needy you are, he's known since the start.

The feelings are more than mutual between the both of you but his busy schedules lead to long days, and long days mean barely being able to spend time together. There was simply no time to satisfy any needs. The both of you have only had your imaginations to look up to, until now.

Your eyes trail upwards from his hands that stay working on the buttons. You focus on his eyes, which are already settled upon your own. They're sparkling out of excitement, yet they're so intimidatingly dark at the same time. Your mind becomes foggy as you start wishing it was you unbuttoning that top of his.

His gaze stays locked on yours as he pulls the dark fabric off his smooth skin, almost in a teasing manner.

He's so alluring

Your breath almost hitches as the eye contact sends shivers down your spine, and you start wondering if he can read your thoughts.

You're knocked out of your trance when you feel soft fabric hit your face gently. Riki giggles to himself quietly, receiving a head shake from you.

"Lay down," you order softly, discarding his shirt to the side in the process,

"You sure do love to boss me around,"

You swear your stomach collapses on itself.. you don't reply to his comment.

The smug boy happily obliges and lays down with a groan, you adjust yourself, climbing onto the back of his thighs- straddling them.

Your eyes stay intently glued onto his bare back, his muscles dance so beautifully underneath all of that skin.

Is he flexing his muscles on purpose?

The weight training is paying off..

Your hands get to work on his back.

His skin is smooth

He's so warm..

..and so broad

You feel him instantly relax underneath your well trained touch, quiet sighs of relief continuously escape his pretty lips. He tilts his head to the side, giving you the perfect view of them.

Your heart rate picks up its pace with each and every little sound he lets out. Your mind is racing, though you do your best to act unfazed.

Riki goes on and on about what he had on his to-do list that day, his voice is low and soft, his eyes shut. He's almost slurring his words due to his relaxed state.

The sound of his deep voice alone has you stuck in a daze, you can barely comprehend the words he's actually saying.

You lean down, your lips coming into contact with one of Riki's shoulders. His voice quiets down mid-sentence, signifying you've successfully caught him completely off guard.

You catch yourself in the moment also, your eyes slightly widening at your sudden actions. He hums at the feeling of your lips against his skin, his satisfaction awakening something within you.

What is this feeling...

The both of you love to tease one another playfully but nothing more has happened other than your regular cuddling sessions, and occasional kisses here and there.

You haven't even made out properly with him yet.

Something about leaving wet kisses along the warm skin of Riki's shoulders felt so incredibly intimate, you feel yourself getting insanely worked up.

Finding a sudden surge of confidence, you continue your actions, moving onto his neck.

Riki's breath shakes.

"Turn around," You whisper beside his ear. He pulls his bottom lip in-between his teeth, attempting to hide his smirk.

You're now propping yourself up on your knees, hovering above Riki's hips. He's gazing up at you through his hooded eyes. Strands of dark hair are messily scattered across his forehead, he looks ethereal.

You bite at your own lip, continuing to admire the boy beneath you.

Your hands rest on his chest, and his find their way to your face, giving your cheeks a soft squeeze. His thumb glides along your bottom lip. A shy smile finds its way onto your face as you break the eye contact, the bold you who was ordering Riki around moments ago? Nowhere to be found anymore.

"Kiss me before I go insane," The boy beneath you speaks breathlessly, his voice deep and hushed. Your stomach errupts in butterflies.

Not wasting another second, you lean down once again. Riki's hand wraps itself around the back of your neck as he pulls you into him. Your lips meet his in a needy, wet and desperate kiss.

"Can I sit?" You mumble out incoherently against his pillowy lips after a minute or so of making out.

Without another word, Riki's hands trail downwards from your face and settles upon your hips, excruatingly slowly, as he doesn't miss a curve on the way.

He pulls your hips down, ever so gently, to meet his. His fingers dig into your skin at the contact, and your jaw falls open. His head falls backwards across a sofa pillow.

You swear you feel your thighs tremble as you bite down onto your lip yet again, keeping a gasp in.

"That massage- can we cut it short?" Riki simpers beneath you, his eyes shutting in pure bliss. You smile shyly.

He could stay like this with you all evening.

One of his hands fall off your hips, his fingers finding their way to the hem of your shirt, he plays with it.

I've never seen someone as beautiful as him

Your thoughts run wild.

His lips fall slightly open as you shuffle and adjust yourself on top of him, wanting to get comfortable. He takes a fist full of your shirt into his grasp, his other hand stays planted on your hip.

"Keep moving on me, just like t-that, my love."

...

#ni-ki imagines #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #ni ki x reader #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #nishimura riki #enhypen riki #niki smut #riki smut #riki-dazed

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happilyhertale · 5 months

Text

Shared future, prequel – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: When your father told you that you were to wed your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, you didn't realise at first what wonderful moments it would bring you.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fluff; Fingering

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

This is the prequel to my Smuff story "Shared Future"

Word count: 4.6 k

Other stories of mine

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Daemon looks up when he hears his brother's words.

He can't believe it – what he has longed for so long is about to come true?

"You want me to wed her?" he asks in disbelief.

Visery's eyes are fixed on him. Although Viserys has just announced it, Daemon gets the feeling that perhaps he didn't mean it. But then Viserys nods briefly.

"You yourself told me to find her a betrothed. That it is time to restore House Targaryen to its former strength," Viserys adds.

Daemon processes the words, but hesitates.

"You know I always desired her?" Daemon says. He doesn't know why he says it. Perhaps to annoy Viserys, or perhaps to make it clear that he really desires you.

But Viserys nods again.

"I know..." he says, "It was also the reason why I wanted to prevent you from wedding her in the first place."

Viserys just keeps talking while Daemon raises his eyebrows slightly.

"But I realised that's exactly why you would treat her best"

Daemon is silent for some time, just looking at his brother.

"You would take care of her and wouldn't let anything happen to her"

And now it's Daemon who simply nods.

Daemon leaves the council chamber – he can't believe it. Ever since you had grown into a young woman, you had attracted his attention in a different way. Rhaenyra and you are the princesses of the realm. Young and beautiful, you epitomise what House Targaryen should bring to the realm. And yet you could not be more different. Rhaenyra, wild and bold, and you, gentle and loving.

Daemon finds himself in his chambers, lost in the idea of finally calling you his.

He drinks far too much wine and his thoughts, like his eyesight, begin to blur, but he is sure of one thing. He must see you and talk to you about it. On the way to your chambers, he realises that his blood is beginning to boil at the thought that you were sitting innocently in your chambers, probably just in your nightgown.

He could just take you now. You'd fight back, he knows that. But... he wouldn't. Not yet. With each step, he grows calmer, reassuring himself with the thought that he won't have to wait much longer before you're his. Once he married you, he could claim you as his own and you would be pleased with that.

You sit on your bed and oil your skin. Your skin is still a little damp from the bath as the gentle scent of lavender envelops you while your hands glide over your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you think about that your father announced today that you are to wed your uncle. But before you can think about it any further, you hear a knock. You look up, "Who is it?" you ask.

Daemon waits outside your door and listens to your soft voice. He can already imagine how he could elicit soft tones from you.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and heavy with alcohol.

"Me," he says simply.

He is taking a risk, but he knows what the answer will be.

"Uncle Daemon?" you ask, somewhat incredulously.

You pause briefly in your movements, unable to remember the last time he visited you in your chambers. Whether he ever visited you in your chambers at all.

"Don't you want to come in?" you ask before you can really think about it. Your hands push your nightgown down almost simultaneously.

Daemon grins slightly, his mouth slightly dry. The wine is working on him, putting his mind in a more daring state. He feels the effects of the heat with which his thoughts fill him.

He enters the chambers and closes the door behind him. There is only one thought in his head: to claim you. To take you. If only his brother knew he was entering your chambers at night.

You look at him with your big purple eyes as he enters.

"Are you drunk, Uncle?" you ask with a slight smile as you realise he's having trouble walking straight.

You take more oil and apply it to your calves

Daemon steps closer to you and is now standing right next to your bed. He looks down at you.

"I'm not that drunk, niece," he says quietly, and the alcohol makes him seem much bolder than he otherwise would have been. He looks at you for a moment and then frowns.

"What are you doing with the oil?" He was still watching your movements, imagining what it would look like if he did it for you, how his rough hands would glide over your soft skin... until your voice brought him back to reality.

"Well... Since father just announced that we're getting to be married, you should know," you say, and Daemon looks even more confused. Your eyes are fixed on him as you continue to oil your calves.

"I just took a bath and I oil my skin after every bath, Uncle," you say to him.

Daemon can hear the tone in your voice when you call him uncle, but he's not fazed. You would soon no longer be his niece, but his wife. His next words make his intention clear.

"Well, when you're my wife, you should let me oil your skin..." you hear his slightly slurred words.

He holds out both hands as if to take the oil from you and do it for you.

But you just laugh slightly and take the bottle of oil yourself.

"Well... I'm not your wife yet," you say, but before you can say anything else, you see Daemon stumble slightly again.

"Maybe you should lie down, Uncle?" you ask worriedly.

But Daemon doesn't want to lie down. He has to claim you, his niece. He wanted to take you right away. As he speaks, his speech becomes slurred and he stumbles slightly again, holding on to the bed.

"I'm not that drunk, niece. I won't fall over... don't worry," he mumbles.

But Daemon's mind is somewhere else, he wants to do this, to feel your skin with his hands. He comes closer and tries to snatch the bottle of oil from you again. There's nothing he wants more than to oil your skin.

As you see Daemon move to take the oil bottle from your hand, you realise he's toppling to one side. "Uncle!" you gasp and immediately get up to stop him from falling.

"Let me help you," you say and lightly grab his arm. A low grumble comes from Daemon, but he lets you lead him to the bed.

He sits down, looking almost cute, so drunk.

"Why did you drink so much?" you finally ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

Daemon lets himself fall back onto the bed and looks up at you, eyes slightly closed. He can't help but be drawn to your sweet and loving nature. But still, it's too sweet for his thoughts right now.

He has a feeling he'll regret this tomorrow, but he needs you so much. He looks into your eyes, his words are quiet and it's hard for him to say some of them.

"I want you, niece."

He just said it. No hesitation. No trying to convince you with honeyed words or sweet talk. Just the cold, hard truth. He wants you.

You smile, but you lean slightly towards him. Your hand glides to his cheek, caressing it gently.

"I know... The whispers in the corridors have always made it clear," you say softly. As Daemon internalises your words, his eyes grow wide. You know it?

You just smile and walk around the bed to sit next to him on the bed.

"Is that why you've been drinking?" you ask as you drop onto the bed.

He closes his eyes briefly and nods his head. His voice is still soft.

"I've been drinking because I want to be brave enough to say what I feel"

At the moment, he is finding it difficult to keep his tone calm and not choke on his words.

"I want you." he repeats his words.

He is almost embarrassed to ask this question because he fears how much you would hate him for it, but he has to do it anyway. He opens his eyes with great force and looks at you - "Do you want me as well?"

As these words echo in your room, your breath catches for a moment. You don't know if you want him. What does that even mean... But you smile slightly. Your brave and feared Uncle Daemon seems so vulnerable.

"Well... father told me today that I have to wed you, so I guess that means I want you...?" you ask quietly, a little unsure.

Daemon can feel his heart pounding in his chest. His words slur slightly, and he couldn't help but smile at you. Things were going better than he had imagined, and he hoped he hadn't misunderstood the situation.

"What I mean is... do you want me as your husband?"

He wants to know the truth, even if it means you'd reject him.

You think for a moment.

"Well..." you finally say.

"I was always afraid of getting married," you say quietly, "I thought my father would marry me off to an old, fat lord..."

And then you look at him, "But you're neither old nor fat," you say a little cheekily and a smile graces your lips, "So, yes.."

Daemon's smile widens when he hears your cheeky words. Those words were music to his ears. They meant that he would hold you in his arms, that you would soon have his child, that the blood would remain pure. He feels a sense of triumph, the thought that he could have you made his pulse beat faster.

"Then you would wed me..." he says, still smiling. They are such simple words, but they make him feel so much pleasure. As he speaks, his hand moves to your waist and he pulls your body closer to him.

You gasp slightly, but a laugh escapes you as he pulls you closer to him.

"Yes... I wouldn't have a say in it anyway, but yes, I'll be your wife," you say.

You hesitate for a moment and look at him.

"But what do you think of that?" you ask quietly, "I mean... I am younger than you?"

Daemon puts his other hand around the back of your neck and pulls you even closer to him. He likes that you're so much younger than him, so naive in that sense. It means he can transfer his desires to you more easily. His grip on your neck tightened a little and he speaks softly, but he doesn't take his eyes off you.

"Age doesn't matter in these things," he murmurs softly.

His hand runs up and down your body and he feels how soft you are against his hand.

You giggle slightly, his fingers lightly tickling your skin.

"But you've always said that your young nephews and nieces are just little brats..." you say, "They're not much younger than me..."

Daemon smiles slightly, your words making him laugh. You were a smart girl, despite your innocence. He can imagine you could be a bit of trouble, but that wasn't a bad thing. You're funny.

His hand still glides along your body.

"There's a difference between children and you... You're a woman now. An attractive woman..." he whispers, but his words are still slightly slurred.

He becomes bolder in his touch and pulls you even closer to him so that your body almost presses against his.

You smile and blush slightly. His hands feel good on your body, but you're nervous – no one has ever touched you like this before.

"Uncle...?" you whisper.

Daemon smiles even more, he can literally sense that you're a little nervous. That would make you even more submissive. He notices how you blush, and that makes him want you even more.

He speaks softly, in his deep voice.

"Tell me... What does my niece want?"

In response to his question, he lets his hands glide even deeper over your body.

You hesitate for a moment. You feel a warmth inside you as his fingers continue to glide over your body.

"I... I'm still a maiden..." you whisper, "I've never kissed anyone before..."

And you gasp slightly as his hand suddenly grabs your bum. Your eyes meet and you become even more nervous.

"Can we wait until we are wed?" you suddenly whisper. Your nervousness gets the better of you and you're not sure where lying in bed with your uncle like this will lead, but you're sure you shouldn't do it until you're husband and wife.

Daemon is still smiling, your soft bum in his hand. Your words are exactly what he was hoping for. A maiden! His lips twist into a mischievous smile as you speak, his tone brimming with lust, "My niece is a maiden?"

His hand squeezes your bum even tighter as he speaks, but as you look into his eyes, he is caught by your purple eyes and his face softens.

"You want me to wait until you're my wife?"

He asks quietly, but surprised, the delicate scent of wine on his breath. How could he wait when you are pure temptation? But you just nod slightly.

"Yes... I mean... Everyone says it's nothing special and that women wouldn't enjoy it anyway..." you whisper.

"But I want it to be special... and when we're wed..." you whisper.

Daemon is surprised at how pure you are, almost shocked. He hadn't expected you, a princess, to have no experience at all. Your innocence was like gold to him.

"If that's what you want, niece…" he finally speaks in a slow voice that is both gentle and demanding. Then his hand slowly slides down from your bum to your thigh. It sounded like you had set your terms, but they were acceptable to him, a fair compromise. With any other maiden, he would have pushed the desire to the extreme until he got what he wanted. But you're not just any girl, you're his beloved niece. He doesn't want it to be all about him – he wants you to enjoy it too.

You nod and smile slightly, "Yes..." you whisper.

His fingers glide over your body again and you can't take your eyes off him. His eyes follow his fingers as they glide gently over the fabric of your nightgown. But his dreamy eyes are distracted when your voice rings out.

"But... do you think it would be wrong to try..." you say softly, hesitating as you blush, "...I mean... I've never kissed anyone before"

You sound as innocent as a young woman can be, and that arouses him so much.

"It would be wrong to try..." he whispers, and for a moment you feel bad for asking such a thing, until he speaks his next words, "...Because then I'd want more"

You gasp slightly as he speaks softly. His tone is almost pleading, filled with desire that grows by the second. He tries to hold back as best he can.

"But just kiss me, I won't push you for more..." he murmurs suddenly, leaning closer to you and again, you gasp slightly, but nod as he leans closer to you.

Your teeth lightly clamp around your lip as his hand slides to your neck and gently grips it. Daemon holds your neck ever so gently, running his thumb lightly over your cheek. He comes even closer, his thumb now gently caressing your lip. His breath was soft and even on your mouth now.

His voice is filled with all the desire a man could feel.

"Come on... Kiss me, niece. Just one peck...," he murmurs softly.

You exhale heavily, but then you lean forward. Your lips meet and you breathe heavily.

You could be bursting with nervousness, your heart trying to burst out of your chest. But after a short time, you slowly calm down – the calm that radiates from Daemon takes you over completely.

His thumb is still gently caressing your cheek and your lips just touch. His lips are soft, and you never thought lips could be so soft. But then Daemon moves his lips slightly. Slight nervousness flares up in you again, but you just try to follow his movements. Until his tongue suddenly touches your lips and you gasp slightly.

The way you kiss is so sweet and innocent, yet with a hint of arousal. It made Daemon's breath catch in his throat. At first he just wanted to tease you and indulge in the sweet caresses of his young niece.

He had tried to be patient and let you take the lead. But as his tongue touches your lips, the wine in his body takes over and he feels you gasp as he continues. His hand slides from the back of your neck to the back of your head, into your hair – and begins to guide you as he slowly slides his tongue into your mouth.

You are overwhelmed as his tongue slides into your mouth.

Your tongues touch and the feeling is indescribable. Such soft yet firm movements. So warm and yet somehow moist. You whimper slightly as his tongue moves further and his hand grips your hair tighter.

His other hand now moves slightly downwards, travelling to your thigh. He tries to give you the same pleasure you give him and starts to move his finger up your thigh.

You pull your head back, your breathing heavy as his fingers caress the inside of your thighs.

His eyelids are half closed as you search for his gaze. A warmth you can't describe spreads through you as his fingers continue to caress you – a questioning expression on your face.

Daemon enjoys it, every little thing you do is so satisfying and pleasurable in so many ways. Your innocence and submissiveness are so pleasing to him. His fingers slowly work their way up the insides of your thighs, getting closer to your womanhood with every caress. He watches your face the whole time. Your lips slightly parted and your eyes staring at him, you look slightly nervous. You don't know what to expect from this, and he liked that. He wanted you to learn.

A gasp echoes through your chambers as his fingers suddenly reach their destination, pressing gently against your womanhood. You grab his biceps, breathing heavily.

You've never felt anything like this before.

Daemon savours the sound of your gasp, almost as much as your hand gripping him. Your body tenses as he moves his fingers slightly and continues his caress. His words are almost like a sweet whisper in your ear, "There's still so much to learn, niece. I look forward to teaching you," he smiles with pure desire on his face.

And it grows with every movement he makes, with every little reaction from you. He's more daring now, his fingers move faster and suddenly you moan quietly. You look at him, slightly startled by the sound that leaves you. But the shock doesn't last long as his aimed movements make you moan again. Your fingers dig into the muscles of his arm.

"Is... is this okay? What we're doing here..." you whimper and a chuckle escapes Daemon.

A mischievous grin crosses his face. Your reaction is exactly what he had hoped for. You felt joy where you had only expected pain. Your eyes are still wide with excitement and maybe even a little fear. You're a little naive, but in such an endearing way.

"Yes. That's all right and natural..." he says in a voice of pure desire, his voice now just a murmur. He breathes faster, he wants more, but he wants to take his time.

The feeling becomes more and more overwhelming and you don't know where to put your hands so that they end up resting on his chest. You moan again as his fingers move faster. He likes making you feel like this and he likes seeing and experiencing your reactions. He sees your toes wiggle and your mouth open slightly. He enjoys it so much that he almost loses control of himself... The part of his brain that's trying to stay in control tells him to tease you, to make you beg for it, to make you scream. But somehow he resists. This moment is too precious for him.

But suddenly his finger slides into you and you whimper. You look at him, you're breathing heavily and then he leans forward again and kisses you. He growls slightly and you whimper in response. He savours every sound you make as you experience all this for the first time. You are so beautiful, so gentle and innocent, and this is his reward for waiting to split you open with his cock.

But still, his finger slides in and out of you slowly, taking his time, trying to make this a slow but perfect experience for you. He can feel your wet walls tightening around his finger, your tightness adjusting to his finger, he growls softly. Everything about it turns him on, not just your body, but the sweet sounds you make, and he takes each one in and would never forget it.

His finger moves slowly and rhythmically, creating more sounds from you, his finger soaked by now.

"Uncle..." you whimper softly and he kisses you again. Your hands on his chest grab his shirt and your whimpering continues. Your hand slides to his neck, pulling him closer to you – it feels so good for you. You just want to feel something like this with him... you need more.

Daemon just grins as he feels you pull him closer to you and your thighs spread slightly, making it easier for him to thrust his finger into you. Your moans and whimpers arouse him immensely, and that makes him even more eager to please you.

His finger moves faster, thrusting deeper into you. With the same eagerness, he let his tongue wander into your mouth as he pulled his finger out of you, only to push it back in. He growls again and pushes you back onto the bed and with one movement, he pushed himself between your legs, kneeling gently between them.

A gasp escapes you between your moans. Your eyes are fixed on him as he moves between your legs. His heavy breathing echoes through your chambers as he kneels between you and pushes his finger inside you again. But this time he adds another finger.

You cry out slightly as you feel the pressure. You whimper and reach for his arm. Daemon notices your slight discomfort immediately and bends down slightly. His lips slide onto yours and you whimper into his mouth as he growls slightly. His fingers slowly but purposefully find their way inside you and slowly the slight pain becomes pleasure. Daemon fels your walls clench around his fingers, your inner muscles spasm as he begins to move his fingers faster.

Daemon breaks away from the kiss and watches your face closely. He senses how sensitive you are. But the sounds that escape you as he guides his fingers inside you are like warm music to his ears. He wanted to hear you make those sounds again and again.

He moves his fingers further, daring to go deeper and find the perfect rhythm. Daemon smiles, he's enjoying this so much. Your breathing quickens and your grip on his arms tightened as he teases you. Daemon leans forward again and thrusts his finger harder into you. Your purple eyes meet and he sees pure desire in your gaze, with a hint of shame.

You can't suppress your uncontrollable moans as his fingers thrust faster. His other hand held your thigh, but then slid to your warm core. Light pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves follows and makes you cry out again as his fingers continue to penetrate you.

Your thighs begin to tremble slightly and a pressure builds up in your abdomen. You don't know what's happening to you, but you trust Daemon. His eyes are fixed greedily on you, as if he's expecting something from you, but you don't know what.

Daemon's breath gets heavier as he watches you, you are so innocent but your reactions turn him on so much. He's enjoying your first experience together so much and he knows you are as well.

He moves his fingers faster and harder. His deliberate movements on your bundle of nerves rub your wetness, make you moan louder, he wants to see you squirm.

He can feel the tension building up in your body, your walls clenching around his fingers again and again. His body is full of energy and he begins to growl with desire. He can't wait any longer, he's so aroused by the sounds you're making, your eyes wide and beautiful. He knows you're close.

When he feels your whole body start to tremble, your thighs want to close around his hands and your eyes roll back, he just smiles. He would make this good for you. He continues to move in the same rhythm, hitting just the right spot, and you're about to experience the most powerful thing you've ever experienced.

You cry out slightly as your damp walls almost crush his fingers. You don't know what's happening, but a wave of pleasure floods through your body. You moan and whimper, his fingers still moving slightly and you grip his arm tighter. He leans down and bite your neck lightly. His growls becoming louder, just hearing you moan and whimper is doing enough for him now.

"Uncle Daemon..." you whimper and look at him as he sits up again, breathing heavily. Daemon just smiles, he's just given you your first climax.

His fingers move slower now, and his eyes watch you with a smug expression as he whispers, "It'll be like this every night when you're my wife..."

You blush even more as he says these words.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper slightly.

Still breathing heavily, you look at him.

"Every... Every night...?" you whisper a little breathlessly.

Daemon grins as he looks at you, so flushed and breathless. He savours the thought that this would happen every night. He loves being able to teach you, and he knows he would enjoy giving you new experiences.

"Every night... And sometimes every day..." he says in a soft voice as he continues to smile, "But only if you're a good wife..." he whispers with that mischievous smile.

You gasp indignantly, but smile slightly. Exhausted, Daemon drops onto the bed next to you and stares at you. "I'll be the best wife possible," you finally say.

He grins again, you're always good at obeying. He puts his arms around you, pulls you closer.

"Good..." he murmurs.

He moves his head close to your face and your lips almost touch. His breath is almost warm and then he lets his lips brush your cheek and whispers softly in your ear.

"And to a good wife many things will be given..."

You blush even more, but giggle slightly as he grabs your bum again. He pulls you further towards him and your lips meet almost automatically.

Daemon smiles a little at your giggle, you still seem a little shy to him, and he liked that. You were so pure.

He moves his hand down to your thigh and slowly slides his fingers back between her legs to tease her again – and this would be repeated on many more nights.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list:

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arieslost · 3 days

Text

MONACO | cl16

summary: aries’ gift to you all after she watched her favorite driver win his home race <3

word count: 802

masterlist — join my tag list here!

the finish line at monaco has always been more of a daunting sight as opposed to an exciting one. you spent every single lap of every single monaco grand prix with your fingers tightly crossed, your lips colorless from how hard you’d press them together, just for a disappointing circumstance to rear its head.

you do the same thing today. but today is not last year, or the year before, or any time you’ve watched your boyfriend race in the heart of his hometown. today is the 26th of may, 2024, and charles leclerc is crossing the finish line as a winner.

every time he’s won has been special, but nothing holds a candle to this. it’s monaco. the streets of his childhood, the track he dreamed of winning on since he could remember.

“we won it! finally!” brian shouts over the radio, and immediately you can hear charles screaming back, crying out “YES!” over and over.

pascale, standing shoulder to shoulder with you as she had been for practically the entire race, reaches over and pulls you into a tight embrace.

“congratulations,” you say loudly in her ear so she can hear you over the cheers of everyone around you. “i can’t imagine how proud of him you are.”

“i think you can,” she replies, kissing your cheek and running her hands up and down your arms with a wide smile. “you’ve been by his side through every obstacle, just like i have.”

your eyes well with tears, and she hugs you again. “you’d better get out there. you know he always looks for you first.”

simultaneously, brian appears at your shoulder and takes your hand. “come on, come with me!”

you take a moment to hug him, the two of you jumping up and down in each other’s arms before you’re both running through the crowds of people to get a clear view of the podium, namely the top step.

you try to hold it together, because you know that a camera could focus in on you at any time, but when charles takes his place between carlos and oscar, his flag draped over his shoulders and a smile on his face that looks almost painful, you realize you never had a chance. the tears stream down your face, but you don’t even bother wiping them away. you can’t tear your gaze from the beautiful sight of your charlie at the top step in monaco. monaco.

his eyes find you as everyone sings along to the italian national anthem, the two of you included. you try to convey everything you can’t say to him yet through your eyes, and something about his expression tells you that he understands.

finally, after the ceremony is concluded and everyone is thoroughly doused in champagne (you and everyone in your general area as well, courtesy of charles), you’ve made your way back to ferrari’s hospitality and are now sitting waiting as patiently as you can to congratulate charles yourself.

thankfully, you don’t have to wait very long.

charles practically comes barreling through the door, first place trophy still clutched in his hand, race suit and hat drenched in champagne, and you don’t even feel the stickiness of it when you meet him in the middle of the room, both of you laughing hysterically.

adrenaline still pumping through his veins, charles wraps his arms around you and lifts you high in the air, spinning you around as many times as he can before he feels like he’s going to fall over. breathlessly, he sets you down, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes.

“i’m so proud of you, cha,” you breathe out, fingers brushing through the hair at the back of his head before cupping his cheeks. “wow, i had so many things i wanted to say to you and now i can’t remember any of it.”

“c’est bon, mon amour,” he whispers, tilting his chin up to capture your lips in a slow, languid kiss. “just hold onto me for a minute.”

you don’t have to be told twice. you loop your arms around his neck, keeping your forehead firmly pressed against his, breathing in tandem with him and accepting every kiss he presses against your lips while his hands caress the slope of your back.

“i think you have some jumping in the harbor to do,” you say eventually, though you wish you could stay like this forever.

“with you?” he asks slyly, raising his eyebrows.

“i don’t think so,” you laugh.

but in the years you’ve spent with him, you’ve learned that when charles leclerc wants something, he will get his way. and that’s how you find yourself tightly gripping his hand as you leap into the monaco harbor with your race winner without regretting it for a single second.

note: oh guys. i cried today. i really did. i’m so happy for him and so damn proud. the first monegasque driver to win his home race in 93 years. tifosi, we celebrate <3

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo @ahgase99 @ferrarisfailedstrats @levidazai @brune77e @watersquirtpewpewboomm @teamnovalak

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jinnie-ret · 8 months

Note

skz and 9th member reader doing one of the period pain simulator things and reader being completely fine while the boys are Suffering. them realising how bad the period pains are and how the reader just gets on with schedules and dance practice and gym while in immense pain and the boys are just like :00

period pains

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 0.9k (exactly!)

summary: you're keen to see the boys reactions to what you go through every month.

I hope you enjoyed this! If you did be sure to comment or reblog! And let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist!

Asks are shut!

MAIN MASTERLIST

You didn't mean to make such a dramatic exit when you ran out of the practice room to the toilets, but a girl's gotta go, especially when she's on her period. You didn't want to risk bleeding through your grey joggers that you wore.

Just as you exited the toilets, you had a worried Felix waiting for you.

"Y/Nnie, are you ok? Are you sick?" he frowned, a crease between his brows as he hoped you were not feeling under the weather.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, it's just, you know girl things," you tried to hint, yet he didn't seem to get it straight away, which surprised you, considering he had two sisters.

"Girl things?" he wondered out loud.

"Gosh do I have to spell it out? I've just got some cramps at the moment, I'm on my period," you sighed and rolled your eyes at him, jokingly of course.

"Ohhhhhh..."

"Yeah, now come on, let's get back to practice," you started walking, not turning around to see if he followed or not.

"You sure you're up for it? You can take a break if you need!" Felix wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you walked back into the practice room.

"Felix, I love you, but, I'll be fine haha, I've done this plenty of times before. If I really need to, then of course, I'll take a break, ok?" you couldn't help but smile at his caring attitude towards you.

"Oh, is it that time?" Chan asked as soon as you walked in, overhearing part of your conversation.

"Haha, yes, what gave it away?" you laughed in disbelief at how he could have possibly known.

"The emergency crisps in your bag kinda said it all," Chan lightly chuckled.

Oh.

Makes sense.

"Y/N, do you need painkillers? A hot water bottle?!" Han came up to you, treating you like you were a fragile doll.

"I've taken some painkillers already, it's fine, let's just continue with practice, yeah?" you patted his head to calm him down. What was it with these boys?

"Are you sure you can manage?" Hyunjin warily asked.

"I'm sure. You guys don't need to baby me, let's just continue," you laughed as you shook your head, getting back into position. You didn't miss their obvious glances at you, and whilst a part of you felt warm, another part was wondering how bad they truly thought periods were.

It didn't take long for your queries to be answered. In a special episode of SKZ Code, the boys were all simultaneously being hooked up to period pain simulator machines, which you were keen to see their reactions to.

"I bet I won't even flinch," Changbin smirked as he folded his arms.

"Surely it can't be that bad?" Jeongin thought out loud.

"If you don't think it's that bad, why do you always baby me when I'm on my period, hmmm?" you raised a brow at them. It made quite the moment for the episode, stays thinking you looked very cool in this moment with your blunt attitude.

"Well, you know, it's because..." Seungmin trailed off.

"We see how emotional you can get sometimes but you're an emotional person anyways," Lee Know shrugged.

"Then I bet Chan will be crying by the end of this," you teased your sensitive leader.

"Hey! I have a sister, I know that this will be painful, trust me," Chan held up his hands.

"I think I'll be fine," Han nodded confidently.

"Interesting..." you simply commented back, before the staff pressed the on buttons on the patches that were placed upon their abdomens and you could see the discomfort on their faces straight away.

"This isn't too bad..." Hyunjin's nose scrunched slightly.

"Oh, they're just going easy on you," you said smugly, before the intensity was raised and they started groaning, some of them (Felix, Changbin, Jeongin) started curling into themselves from the pain.

"I don't think I can go on like this," Han dramatically whined as he thrashed about suddenly and whacked Lee Know in the face.

"Yah! Just because you have a low pain tolerance!" Lee Know mumbled grumpily through gritted teeth.

"This feels a bit sadistic, Y/Nnie," Seungmin winced as he watched you smirk.

"Well this is right up your street then," you laughed at him.

"I don't know how girls do this," Changbin whimpered from the ground. Even with his jutdwae he couldn't contain or control his emotions.

"Isn't that enough yet?" Chan looked pleadingly towards the staff who finally turned off the machines, causing all members to relax and sigh in relief.

"Not as easy as you think, is it?" you sat comfortably, one leg crossed over the other.

"I'm so glad I don't have to go through that, let alone do it every month," Jeongin said as his body went lax across a sofa.

"Think how I felt, mine started when I was 12," you revealed, something you would never have needed to but you thought it would be interesting to see their reactions to it considering the situation you were in right now.

"12?! When I was 12 I had barely began auditioning for JYP..." Chan gasped.

"And now look at you, you're an old man," Seungmin casually commented after, leaving all of you in hysterics.

It was a perfect ending to an unexpected segment of a SKZ Code episode, and stays loved it.

tagged: @skz-streamer @sakufilms @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @kiraisastay @han-jiquokka

#skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz 9th member #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member

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lilasamaaa · 21 days

Text

Missed chances | Max Verstappen x Reader.

Genre | Angst, Hurt, Fluff.

Word count | 4.1K

Warnings | Mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption, Max being an asshole.

Summary | It's been years since you've had a crush on your best friend's brother. But him too, right? Or is kissing you every chance he gets just a game for him?

Author's note | Angsty Queen is back at it! This piece is the result of this poll. Thank you so much for all the feedback on the previous pieces, I'm so glad you like them. Enjoy this one! (Not proofread yet, sorry!)

You and Victoria are thirteen when you cross paths for the first time. The shy blonde girl stands upright, nervously nibbling her lip. It's the first day of school, and you're both waiting to find out which class you'll be in, hoping to be with friends. Her gaze meets yours, and she offers a timid smile. You're not friends. Not yet. You just have mutual friends. Your names are called almost simultaneously, indicating that you're in the same class. Instinctively, you head towards her, giving her a big smile. You don't know anyone else in the class, so you'll have to get to know each other. Stick together.

A few months later, as your father drops you off in front of Victoria's house before rushing off to your little brother's soccer practice, you take a moment to observe the pale blue house from the outside. Upstairs, a curtain moves, catching your attention. You don't see anybody, though. You knock on the door, and Victoria opens it, immediately throwing herself into your arms.

"I'm so glad your parents agreed to this," she says, excited. "This is gonna be so cool. My parents aren't home so Max is supposed to look after us, but he'll probably lock himself in his room. Boys, you know..." she finishes, leading you into the hallway.

Max? For months, you've been sharing your lives between classes, but you've never heard this name before.

"Who's Max?" you ask, curious.

"My older brother," she replies, rolling her eyes. "We don't get along so well these days. He thinks he's all grown up... Barely even acknowledge me," Victoria says, frustration evident in her voice.

"I can relate," you reply sarcastically. "Well, mine's younger, but not that interested in me either."

You spend the afternoon in her room painting your nails, braiding each other's hair, and sharing your secrets (you're starting to run out, after all this time), until night falls. You're deep in conversation when someone knocks on the door. That must be Max, you think, waiting for the door to open.

And it is Max, indeed. His face appears, and your heart skips a beat. He's cute. He seems a bit grumpy. Not in the best mood, that's true. But there's something immediately touching about his big, wide eyes and annoyed expression.

"Diner's ready," Max says before closing the door.

"I bet he made fish sticks again," Victoria grumbles, getting up. "That's the only thing he knows how to cook."

Sitting at the table, cutting a fish stick in half with your fork, your gaze shifts from Victoria to Max, who sit across from each other, not exchanging a word.

"So..." you start shyly. "What's your favorite subject, Max?" you ask, immediately regretting your words as the boy glances in your direction, brows furrowed.

Of course, your only topic of conversation is school. You've always been one of the top students. A real bookworm, as they say. Plus, you're not exactly comfortable around boys, especially those around your age. Victoria shoots you a desperate look, eyes wide open. But right now, anything seems better than this uncomfortable, excruciating silence.

"Erm," Max says, grabbing a green bean with his fork. "Geography, I guess. I don't know."

Silence falls once again, lingering until each of you finishes your meal, and then Victoria and you retreat to her room.

"Don't even bother trying to talk to him," the blonde says as she slips into her pajamas. "Nothing interests him except go-karting."

The next time you encounter Max, you're fourteen, and he's sixteen. Victoria and you are participating in an endurance race to raise funds for a charity, and your families have been invited to attend the event. Your parents, who have crossed paths several times at school meetings and other events, find each other in the stands and share enthusiastic greetings before sitting down. Already on the track, you watch the reunion with a smile when your eyes fall on him. Max is here? you think. He never attends these things.

The race begins, and Victoria and you take off along the lake, completing lap after lap. On one of them, as you pass by the stands, particularly the one where your parents are seated, you turn your head, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. You don't see your father or your mother. Your eyes only see him. Max. And he's looking at you, too. Your eyes don't leave each other until your foot slips on a stone, and your ankle twists violently. You fall to the ground, letting out a cry of pain as your father rises, rushing to your aid.

A little less than an hour later, as Victoria finishes her run and joins you at the infirmary, the blonde gives you a worried yet disapproving look. "You're too distracted," she says, hand on her hip. "What was it this time? Did you see a cute boy or something? Was it Jan?". You don't respond, giving a sheepish smile to your friend. A cute boy, yeah...

As the years go by, you see Max less and less. At the beginning of your friendship with Victoria, you often ran into the young man when you spent afternoons or nights at the Verstappen's, but the aspiring driver has started to become increasingly scarce in his own home. One evening, though, as you're racking your brains over a philosophy essay, your phone vibrates, signaling a message from the person who's become your best friend.

"Max is throwing a fucking rager at home. Please come, I beg you. I'll shoot myself if I have to deal with his drunk friends all alone."

Thirty minutes later, you're on your bike, covering the five kilometers that separate your house from Victoria's. Summer has begun, with only a few days of classes left, which certainly explains Max's sudden urge to throw a party. On your bike, you're anxious, your stomach tying itself in knots. Despite your daily visits to Victoria, it's been almost a year since you've last seen her older brother. You try to convince yourself that the fact you applied a bit of mascara to your lashes or straightened your hair has nothing to do with his presence. You just wanted to tidy up a bit, that's all. Nothing else to it.

When you arrive at the blue house, your first instinct is to anxiously glance at the surrounding houses. How has no one called the cops yet, you think, impressed by the decibels pouring out of the open windows, and the number of people you can already see inside the house. Leaving your bike in the grass, you venture into the house, passing by the wide open front door. On the way to the living room, drunk bodies cling to you, spilling beer on your shoes, shouting incomprehensible words in your ears. Wow. Victoria wasn't kidding. This thing is a huge mess.

Spotting your friend in the middle of the kitchen, you make your way to her.

"What the fuck is happening here?" you ask, casting a glance over the room.

"Can you believe this asshole?" Victoria replies, fuming. "Mom has been gone for five hours. Five! And I haven't even finished my fucking essay," she says, despair filling her eyes.

"Forget about it," you reply, stifling a laugh. "That's not happening tonight."

Victoria launches into another tirade about how much her brother annoys her when you catch sight of him in the middle of the living room. He's wearing a shirt that looks slightly too big for him. Maybe borrowed from his dad. He's holding a beer in one hand. A girl in the other. The sight twists your heart and brings a bitter taste to your mouth. Clinging to his arm, the blonde —who you recognize as Sanne, a girl from his class— can't seem to tear her gaze from Max, looking at him as if he belonged in a museum.

"Hey, are you listening?" Victoria says, bringing you back to reality.

"What?"

"They want to play a game," Victoria repeats. "Seven minutes in heaven."

"Seven minutes in heaven?" you repeat, eyes wide.

"Yeah. Sanne suggested it."

Of course she did, you think, biting your lip. Of course Sanne, who clearly has a big crush on Max, would suggest a game where the goal is to get locked in a narrow closet with someone for seven minutes.

"Listen to me," Victoria says, suddenly serious. "If Max has to be locked in a closet with anyone, I want it to be you. We'll figure it out. We'll cheat at the draw," she continues. "I hate Sanne. At least with you, I know nothing will happen."

You swallow loudly, completely at a loss for words. Getting locked in a closet with Max? The Max who's never really noticed you? Who's always seen you as nothing but a kid because you're a year and a half younger and his sister's friend? You don't have much time to think about it because already, you're sitting in a circle in the middle of the living room with a dozen other people, a bottle in the center.

Johannes, a friend of Max's, spins the bottle, which lands on Sanne. The girl's eyes sparkle with excitement, her gaze fixed on Max. Johannes spins the bottle again, and this time, it stops in front of another girl you don't know. You glance at Victoria, who seems particularly amused by the situation. Sanne looks absolutely gutted.

"Rules are rules, girls," Johannes says, laughing.

A boy from your class escorts the girls to the closet by the entrance before locking them in and starting a timer. The seven minutes pass, filled by various discussions. When the alarm goes off and the girls are freed, Sanne sits back in the circle, her face closed off.

"It's my turn to spin the bottle," she announces, seizing the plastic object.

She's quite skilled, as the bottle spins twice before landing directly in front of Max. Sanne grabs the bottle again, sending it spinning, and it rotates for a while before stopping right in front of you. Sanne seems beside herself, but your attention is focused on Victoria, who gives you a discreet thumbs-up. Your eyes meet Max's, and it's safe to say the young man doesn't look too pleased. But as Johannes said, rules are rules, and the two of you get up before walking towards the closet.

The space is ridiculously tiny. Max ventures in first, one foot behind the vacuum cleaner, the other squeezed between two shoe shelves. There's barely enough room for two people to fit, and as Johannes pushes you inside unceremoniously and you hear the lock click behind you, you realize you're standing between Max's legs, your hands on his chest.

"Sorry," you say, trying to get away, your back hitting the door.

A heavy silence settles between you as outside, you hear the lively conversations resume in the living room.

"I'm sure you would have preferred to be locked in with Sanne," you say, trying to fill the silence that's slowly eating away at you.

"Not really," Max responds, evasive.

"Aren't you two together?" you ask, curious.

He scoffs against you, sending vibrations to your chest.

"She would like to, yeah," Max says, as you feel his breath against your face despite him being twenty centimeters taller than you.

"And you don't?" you ask, trying to appear nonchalant even though you fear his answer.

"I don't have time for her."

"Oh. I didn't realize your time was so precious," you reply, stunned.

"Depends on who it's spent with," Max replies, his voice deeper.

You're suddenly incredibly grateful to be plunged into darkness because your cheeks are definitely burning red. Is Max Verstappen flirting with you?

"You've changed since the last time I saw you," he continues, as you feel like the temperature in the closet has risen several degrees.

"Changed how?" you ask, seeking his gaze despite the darkness.

"You're taller. Your hair seems longer. It's lightened up a bit, it's nice," he says. "Sixteen suits you. You're not a kid anymore."

You're going to suffocate. Die in a closet.

"We're only a year and a half apart," you reply, breathless.

"I know," he replies, as you feel his hand caress your cheek. "I'm not a kid anymore either."

His lips crash onto yours before you even have time to comprehend what's happening. You melt into him, closing your eyes, savoring the contact you've dreamed of for years. His hand rests on the back of your head, bringing you closer to him, as your hands find their way back to his chest. You bite his lip, and he lets out a groan before wrapping his arms around your waist. You thank the loud music from the living room for drowning out the sounds you're making in this closet, pressed against one another. Your hands find his neck, and his crawl to your ass, squeezing it as you let out a moan against his open mouth.

You thought you couldn't get any closer, but one of Max's hands slips under your right knee, lifting your leg. You've never kissed anyone. Never touched anyone. Yet, as your two groins press against each other, everything feels so easy, so natural. You could stay here for hours, exploring his mouth, his face, his body, but already, footsteps echo in the hallway, and you pull away from each other as if you'd been burned.

"Time's up, lovers!" Johannes says opening the door, prompting laughter from the living room.

"As if," Max says, getting out first. "That's disgusting, bro. She's like my sister."

You stay in the closet for a few seconds, watching the two boys go back to the living room, catching your breath. Several hours later, lying in Victoria's bed as the music has stopped and most of the guests have left the house, you stare at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep, despite your best friend softly snoring by your side. Getting up to get a glass of water, you walk blindly through the dark hallway, passing by Max's room.

"Can we talk?" a voice suddenly rises, making you jump, your hand finding your heart which threatens to leap out of your chest.

You remain silent. Not quite sure if you want to talk, let alone with Max. And certainly not to talk about earlier, in the closet, and be rejected by the boy who stole your heart.

"Come here," he says, pulling you into his room before closing the door behind him. "I don't want Victoria to hear."

You're about to pour your heart out, tell Max how much he hurt you, when he pulls you towards him and presses his lips to yours. Again. Everything you had planned to say escapes your mind as your tongues meet and the hands of your best friend's brother slide under your shirt, stroking your back. Max pulls back, sitting on his bed, pulling you onto his lap, one leg on each side of him. The kisses intensify, your noses brushing, your hands getting lost in each other's hair. Your lips speaking without sound, your hearts opening up without words.

"I don't understand you," you admit between kisses.

"Don't try," he replies, biting your lip.

Max grabs your butt, pressing you against him, and a flash of panic grips you when you feel him against you. Hard. You moan, and suddenly, all the reason seems to come back to him. It's you. His sister's best friend. He pulls back, avoiding your gaze.

"I..." he starts, breathless. "You should go," Max says before pushing you off his lap. You stand here, facing him awkwardly for a few seconds. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. When nothing comes, his head still low, you turn on your heels. Back in Victoria's room, slipping under the covers of your best friend's bed, you let out a tear, feeling a sadly familiar ache tugging at your heart.

Max and you cross paths again a year later, at your high school graduation ceremony. You and Victoria are among the top students in your class, and you're invited to go on stage to give a speech with eight other people. One of these people is Niels. Your boyfriend. You've been together for a few months now. He welcomes you on stage, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before holding you close. In the audience, your eyes meet those of your parents, proud. Those of Victoria's parents, proud. And those of Max. Icy.

The speeches go by quickly, and just before the buffet begins, you apologize to Niels and your parents, saying you need to make a quick stop at the restroom. In the deserted corridors of your high school, your heels click against the floor, soon joined by the sound of another pair of shoes. You turn around, surprised, seeing Max approaching in the distance.

"Niels Harmen?" you hear the boy say. "Really?"

"What do you want?" you reply, eyes cold.

"That guy was still picking his nose last year."

"It's good that he stopped, then," you respond, annoyed.

"Why are you dating him?"

The question makes you laugh. Not a sincere laugh. A laugh that says "mind your own business" and "screw you" at the same time. An ironic, ugly laugh that you don't even recognize.

"When we kiss, I'm not afraid that he'll reject me the next second," you reply, even though you know it's hitting below the belt.

Max scoffs, crossing his arms.

"Is it what it is? Some sort of revenge?"

"I'm not seeking revenge on anyone. My life doesn't revolve around you," you spit before turning on your heels.

You haven't taken a step before a hand grabs your wrist. You already know what's going to happen. So you try to resist. You know you shouldn't turn around. That if your eyes meet his, you'll fall back in. Start another round of false hopes. Disillusionments. Heartaches.

Yet, you do. You turn around, and, of course, his lips find yours. It's almost routine now, mechanical. You close your eyes, your heart torn between the joy of feeling his touch again, and the anticipation of the pain that will undoubtedly assail you in a few hours. When he'll reject you, again.

You're lost in each other when the sound of applause brings you crashing back to earth. The two of you quickly pull away before turning towards the source of the noise. Sanne.

"Don't you have a boyfriend waiting for you?" the girl asks with a fake smile.

"Get out of here, Sanne," Max says like a warning.

"What happened to "I'm not interested in her", Max?" Sanne asks, one hand on her hip. "Or to "She's just a kid, and not even my type"? Or, wait, what was it, the last time?" Sanne continues, stroking her chin. "Oh, yeah. "She was just there, and I was bored"."

You look at him, mouth agape, but Max carefully avoids meeting your gaze. Sanne's words tear at your heart. In a way, it's even worse than being rejected by him. You turn on your heels for good this time, passing by Sanne who's looking at you like you're the most despicable thing on earth. You're vaguely aware of Max saying... no, screaming your name, but you keep on walking, not looking back once. For a second, you thought you were gonna cry, break down in tears in the middle of the hallway. But nothing comes. You don't feel anything. Your heart has given up, surrendered. Returning to the ceremony, you smile at your parents before grabbing a flute of champagne, toasting with Victoria.

"Have you seen Max?" your best friend asks, and you don't miss how the mention of his name doesn't make your heart flutter, for the first time in years.

"Nope," you reply, smiling at her.

Three years later, you're in Victoria's car, on your way to the Zandvoort Grand Prix. You don't even know why you agreed to come with your best friend. You don't watch F1. You have no interest in the sport. Curiosity, your inner voice whispers. You wanted to see him again. You shake your head to dispel those intrusive thoughts when Victoria turns to you.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come. Max is so happy, too."

"What?" you ask, turning to her.

"He told me over the phone. Is that so surprising?"

Well, it is. Max and you haven't exchanged a word since the last ones thrown in the hallway of your high school. But Victoria, of course, doesn't know that. Victoria thinks you're friendly. Like two people who grew up together, gravitating in the same universe without ever colliding.

"He got us VIP passes", your best friend continues. "We'll be able to go everywhere, even see the pit stops!"

"How kind of him," you mumble.

"Look," she says, looking over at you. "I know Max wasn't the kindest... or the warmest, growing up. But he's changed, so much. You'd be surprised!"

"Oh, I bet," you say, smiling at her.

Victoria parks her small car in the VIP space, and a RedBull staff member greets you, handing you two passes before guiding you through the paddock. A stress you haven't felt in three years creeps into your head, into your body. Your thoughts collide, your hands are sweaty. You're beginning to wonder if coming here was a good idea after all when you spot him. At the end of the aisle, in his racing suit. Helmet in hand. Victoria's phone suddenly rings, and she apologizes, gesturing for you to continue without her.

You take the few steps that separate you from the driver. He's changed. So much. His teenage roundness has vanished, replaced by sharp features. His hair is longer, his eyes darker. He gives you a warm smile that twists your insides. It's impossible, you think. After all these years. Having so much power, so much hold over me.

"You came," he says, still smiling.

"For her," you reply curtly.

"Well..." he says, laughing softly. "She's not the one racing."

The silence falls again. Cold. Heavy. You turn your head, spotting Victoria a little further away, hoping she hangs up soon.

"You look beautiful," he says, and you know he means it despite you wearing the blankest blue jeans and white shirt ever made.

Silence, again.

"I'd hoped you'd no longer be mad at me." Max says, and you scoff.

"I'm not mad at you."

"You're cold."

"You broke my heart."

The driver winces, looking away.

"I should have called," he says, softly.

"I wouldn't have answered," you reply.

"I should have come to see you," Max starts again.

"I wouldn't have opened the door."

Your eyes meet his. Fire and ice.

"Well, I should have done something. Fight for you," he continues.

"Fight for who?" you ask. "The girl who was just there?"

Max runs his hand through his hair, embarrassed.

"You were never just that to me. You were so much more. I was just too young, too stupid to realize it. I have. Now."

You hadn't planned on getting into deep explanations with Max today. Not here. Not now. You're about to respond when Victoria returns, linking her arm with yours.

"Maxie!" she says, kissing his cheek. "Are you catching up on lost time? Did she tell you she's still dating Niels? Rumor has it that he's going to propose soon!"

Max's eyes glance down at your hand, and something in his demeanor shifts. It might be the breath he holds, or the way his shoulders seem to slump, defeated.

"She hasn't," he says, smiling faintly at his sister.

"We should go," Victoria says. "The race is about to start. Can we go to the stands?"

"Yes, no problem," Max replies as Victoria begins to head towards the garage, leaving you face to face once again.

"Congrats on your future engagement, I guess," he says.

"Thank you. I'm going to break up with him," you reply, crossing your arms.

"What?" Max says, astonished.

"It doesn't feel right. Him and I."

"If it has anything to do with me, please, tell me," Max breathes, as you avoid his gaze. "I was so focused on my career these past few years that I never wrote to you. I knew I didn't have the time to make it work. I knew it'd be selfish. Unfair to you," Max admits.

"Here you are, once again, thinking that my life revolves around you", you say, smirking at him. "I'm not waiting for you, Max. I haven't been for a while now."

The driver nods, swallowing hard.

"Of course," he says. "I'm sorry for assuming."

"I'm not against the idea of grabbing a drink with you sometime, though," you say, winking at him. "Just text me when you're free."

"I will," he says quickly, blue eyes boring into yours.

"See you around," you say, running to catch up with Victoria.

Watching you leave, Max stands there, grinning like an idiot, before unlocking his phone.

"How about tonight?"

Sent.

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