Sobre Os Meninos Com A Leitora Plus Size Tenho Coisas A Adicionar ☝️🤓

Another f1 text au! This one was actually quite fun, it's f1 drivers reacting to you using memes of them in your chats.

BY THE WAY NO SLANDER TO PEOPLE WHO COMMENT FREAKY STUFF ON THE DRIVERS POSTS LIKE YOU DO WHAT YOU WANT NOT MY PROBLEM YOU DO YOU 😭

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

‎ ˗ˏˋ TWIRL KISS ´ˎ˗ — r. cameron x reader

"hey rafe, i wanna try something," you chirp, stepping into his personal space with a spark in your eyes, bright with whatever wonderful idea just bloomed behind them.

your boyfriend regards you with that familiar brand of fond detachment — half-bored, half-curious. as if he's already expecting some kind of tomfoolery, but willing to humor you.

you rise eagerly onto your tippy-toes and kiss him.

pivoting lightly on the balls of your feet, you begin to spin, rotating your mouth against his in a crooked arc. the kiss distorts but stays connected — your lips sliding across his with uneven pressure, nose bumping his chin, cheek skimming bone, until you realign.

eyes closed, rafe lets it happen. he follows the motion with the barest tilt of his chin but doesn't move otherwise.

you complete a second, a bit clumsier circle. your neck begins to ache and your mouth slips briefly off-course, but you power through. arms loop around his neck at last, steadying yourself. your lips are swollen and damp with effort.

that's when he lifts you — hands around your waist, clean off the ground. one cradles the base of your skull, thumb resting just beneath your ear.

"you're gonna give yourself a neck cramp, dumbass,"

and then he really kisses you.

Hello I would like to request some smut for dark max . For example she is trying to leave him but he does not let her also some breeding kink .

Forever tied to him || M.V

Dark max Verstappen x reader

Warnings— dark max, smut, breeding, forced pregnancy, impact play , toxic relationship, max is paranoid, dom/sub, unprotected sex

Summary: max is very paranoid that your gonna leave him, but much to his horror he’s not being paranoid cause you do try to leave him and he can’t have that, so he traps you.

Max worse fear is you leaving him, but his worse, worse fear is him being right that you were going to leave him.

That’s why he has you here now, laying naked face down on the bed with your ass tinted red and painted with Max’s handprint.

He’s gonna make sure you never leave him or have thoughts of leaving him ever again.

He’s glad he got out of his jeans cause his boxers are straining down from his bulge wanting to break out, he can’t imagine how uncomfortable it would feel with his jeans still on.

His member only grows more hearing you whimper as his hard collides with your ass harshly again, leaving it a sting that you wish didn’t make you wet.

“ oh look at this gushing needy little pussy” he chuckles deeply as one of his hands swipe over the area that wants to be touched instead of your ass. You squirm as his finger grazes your little bud as max pulls his hand back and looks at his hand glistening with your arouse, “ well look at that, I wonder…” he trails off before he firmly slaps your pussy making you shriek suprisingly at the pleasure surching through your body.

“ oh you like that, little filthy slut?” He mockingly cooes as he does it again watching with amusement as you jump and moan. He does it a couple more times before the need to feel you becomes to much.

He strips from his boxers and gets in between your legs before pulling you so your back is firmly pressed against his chest. Your legs shake from the stimulation you just had that almost made you came but feeling Max’s large member against your socking pussy made you clench.

“ I’m gonna make you regret at all the negative thoughts you have had about our relationship” he growls in your ear as his hand grips your neck to pin you against him.

Before you could blink he slams into you, groaning as you got to time to get use to it as he repeatedly thrusts into you deeply that you could feel it in your womb.

“ gonna f-fill you with my babies so you can-can fuck, never leave” he grunts, if the pleasure wasn’t making you dizzy you would of tried to pull away, not that he would let you.

“ ohhh max! Please, please” you mindlessly beg as your release creeps up, max smirks breathlessly as his nears as well. He sinks his mouth on your neck, marking the skin messily making you moan louder.

He groans as you clench on him, “ imma cum, cum in you and fill you til the brim”.

He bottoms out and cums deep in you as you pant, “ oh fuck” he growls animalistically.

He buries his head in your neck kissing it softly as he regains his senses, you whimper not having cum yet. He drops you softly and turns you around, your glassy eyes met his now soft blue eyes, “ oh schatz, you don’t deserve to cum but I can’t leave my princess suffering” he pouts.

He softly rubs your puffy red pussy making you whine as he does it softly but firm, you feel your orgasm building up again as the need to cum grows stronger.

“ you gonna cum? Yeah? Cum for me baby” he cooes as he rubs faster making you release with a whiny moan, chest rising uneven.

As you close your eyes, focusing on calming down from your high he eyes your stomach with hope. Hoping that you get pregnant and knows it’s high that you will as he has been switching your pregnancy pills with sugar fake pills.

~~~~~

“ daddy can’t wait to meet you, so can’t your mommy” Max whispers lovingly against your round stomach as you gulp nervously.

Max obsessed with your round stomach and full tits almost as obsessed with you he is, he got all that he wanted. You, and you pregnant with his child but now seeing how breath taking you look pregnant, he can’t help but want to get you pregnant with his child as soon as his first born is born.

What happens if you pull their tail softly while making out? Avatar headcanons

Characters: Jake Sully, Neytiri, Norm, Tsu’tey

Warnings: mature themes, suggestive content and I don’t know what else.

NSFWish under the cut!

Jake Sully

This man in horny as hell, so making out is literally your daily routine.

If you ever dare to pull his tail softly, at first you will hear him moan. Probably will become putty in your hands. He is sooo desperate for that feeling.

He literally will beg you every time to pull his tail after that. And you will do it or he will beg with his lip quivering.

Whiny Jake at 100%

Instead of asking, sometimes his tail will move around you, waiting to be caught.

This man will love it. And pulling his tail will lead to a sex session instead of just make out.

Neytiri

Ngl at first you will get hissed at, maybe she wasn’t expecting it, maybe it surprised her.

She will eventually like it. She will move her tail close to you while making out, letting you know that you should do it again.

I don’t make the rules, she moans, really softly with it. Almost a whine.

That gets her going and usually gets the make out sesión not the next level.

Not her favorite thing but she does enjoy it very much.

Norm

He will be pretty surprised, even as an avid Avatar user, this new sensations catch him off guard.

Probably really flustered about it, even a little bit of stutter.

“Ba-babe! Why you do that?” Really whiny

Secretly loves it.

Doesn’t ask you to stop, but he will act as if it is offensive.

He gets fidgety with his tail more often, knowing that if you see him you’ll play too. He is just trying to “innocently” make you play with his tail without him having to say it.

Tsu’tey

He hissed loud af at first. Like, this man’s instinct of fight or fight (fight or flight isn’t in his vocab) is always alert.

Having something so intimate as a make out session with you makes him fill vulnerable. So at first he just gets startled.

Then he likes it. “Do it again” he demands, his kisses, stronger but gentler.

Do as he says, just DO IT. He is a whiny baby, behind that tough guy facade. Deep down, there is a whiny touch-starved baby.

Pull his tail once and he will plan on mating you.

Behind Closed Doors - Max Verstappen

Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: Max has a secret girlfriend, she might not have been happy about it at first but she'll warm up to him. He just has to keep how he got into the relationship secret. Or he'd lose everything, including her.

Theme/warnings: Abduction, stockholm syndrome, smut (dub con kind of, she's initially asleep but never attempts to stop him), manipulation

No part 2 requests please - Also bc of this not being my usual content I haven't put the taglist on just incase someone who usually reads my fics would rather not read darker content

There's perks to being a millionaire. Perks to the power that comes with being Max Verstappen.

Including facilitating the kidnapping of the young woman lying in his bed right now.

She looks so peaceful. So perfect.

Y/n has been with him for a couple days and she is never happy to wake up to him. But he can see he's slowly breaking her down by actually treating her with love and care.

It's just...he's forcing her to accept that love and care.

He isn't silly. He did everything he needed to in order to make sure she quit her job, by emailing her boss her notice. Thankfully she doesn't see her family much anywhere so sending them small messages here and there was enough for them to not be a bother.

Y/n finally wakes up and immediately looks to check, then practically sighing in defeat when she looks at Max. She seems to wake up every morning wishing it was all just a horrible dream.

"Good morning, beautiful." Max smiles while she just keeps herself quiet for a few beats seeming to consider her words and actions carefully.

"Morning." Y/n mumbles before she finds herself pulled over into a hug and his lips press to her cheek.

Her body tries to fight off the fact she's feeling a lot of comfort from the close proximity but eventually her body can't fight it, relaxing down against him.

"Are you hungry?" Max asks softly making her swallow.

She'd tried a hungry strike, but Max very quickly managed to get her to eat and he wouldn't even say it really took much effort. He just got her what happened to be her favourite meal and that quickly proved to get her to cave into her hunger.

"Not right now." Y/n mumbles earning a nod.

One thing Max wouldn't admit to anyone but himself, y/n is hard to read. She masks her thoughts well and while it annoys Max, he's still on a mission to change her thoughts about this. To make her see how good she has it with him.

He's breaking her down and making progress. It's not going to be long before she's lost her fight and succumb to his advances. Then they can be really genuinely happy.

-

Y/n sits sitting with Max's cats who have taken to loving on her about as quick as Max has. She is sitting at the locked door of the balcony.

It's been a couple weeks now.

Summer break for Max is almost over and she's actually a little fearful to ask what will happen when it comes to him leaving for the races. Some of them he can't just leave her there.

"What are you thinking?" Max asks suddenly but she doesn't turn to face him, just keeping her gaze trained outside on the sunny outdoors.

"Are you leaving me when you go to races?"

"Planning your escape?" Max jokes making her finally turn.

"No." Y/n admits and actually she's really not, but she even seems nervous about admitting that. Teeth chewing on her bottom lip like chewing gum.

Max can't even help the twitch of a smirk on his lips as he moves over and crouches down, finger hooking under her chin as he looks at her, eyes invading her soul with his gaze.

"Do you want me to leave you?"

"No." Y/n swallows almost feeling hypnotised as he speaks.

She can feel her heart absolutely pounding in her chest as she tilts her head up more when he leans in and closes the space between them, his lips pressing to her own.

She doesn't realise it's a test, seeing what her reaction is. Disgust, fear, or compliance?

When she kisses him back, not flinching from it or even fighting it for maybe more than a slight hesitation before she moves her lips to match his own. Max breaks the kiss feeling there's certainly progress made but he's not stupid. He's also not taking a risk that y/n could easily use as a means of escape even with her willing to kiss him and denying the suggestion.

"You'll have to stay here for the next race. If you're good and don't cause any trouble. Maybe I'll think about bringing you to Monza." Max lies. He won't be, that's still too soon and he thinks that leaving her alone might be the finally nail in the coffin to her breaking point of completely accepting her fate.

He'll probably decide after Monza to see how he feels about taking her to Baku. Testing the waters with Singapore might be the best option.

"If you prove I can trust you to not be difficult while I'm gone. Then I'll consider you coming with me."

Y/n wants to argue that she's been good.

"You'll have the cats. They love you." Max smiles making her look down at the cats who are basking in the warmth of the sun through the window. Their silky coats glimmering under the rays shining down on them.

"I thought you loved me." Y/n mumbles then biting her lip.

That has got to be a new low. She sounded pathetically needy but there's something chilling about the thought of being left locked away by Max while he's away.

"I do love you. Why else would you be here if I didn't?" Max smiles hooking another finger under her chin and kissing her again which he is happy to feel her returning the gesture of. "I'll make sure there's plenty of food and you'll be completely fine. It will be a few days and you can watch me on the TV."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, of course." Max nods with a smile then sighing as he finally sits down. "I wouldn't watch you watching something else when you could be watching me."

Y/n nods obediently to his words then somewhat leaning over to him, resting against him as they sit in the sun.

-

Max had left for his home race, and he kept to his word making sure the fridge and cupboards were fully stocked with all the food she could think of wanting.

And she did watch Max in the race with the cats laid with her on the sofa. Despite her efforts to keep herself busy there was a longing whenever she saw Max on screen. She wants him there.

But she shouldn't want him there. Logic, common sense, rationality, it all tells her that she shouldn't want the man there.

Not that any of that changes the truth.

That y/n misses Max.

Being left on her own for days, locked away is going to sure be justification for feeling like this and she knows he's her only chance at not being alone anymore.

It doesn't help that he didn't tell her that when he'd be back. He didn't even tell her when he'd be back after the weekend. Not an idea of what day or time.

He actually returns while she's asleep, having left for the airport as soon as the debrief was done. Having his jet at the ready to leave for Nice within a couple hours of the race finish.

He returns to find her laid out on his bed, the tv on in the background as she sleeps. She's only in a t-shirt and her body is so exposed, having been away from her for days and not having ever actually had even the smallest taste of her. His self-control is wavering.

Taking off the thick of his layers of clothing, he leaves himself in his boxers and creeps up onto the bed, gently pushing up the t-shirt to expose her stomach.

Y/n's not wearing underwear, and positioning himself between her legs. Max can see her in all her glory and she looks needy and neglected. At least that's how Max sees it since he knows she's had no sexual attention from a man for weeks now.

A sudden thought of another man being the last to have fucked her makes his heart rate pick up and that cements what he's about to do.

As soon as he licks his tongue over her hole up to her clit, there's a gasp and her body jumps at the sudden pressure. He does even bother to check if she's woken up before he dives in, eating her out like a starved man.

Y/n wakes with a start at the feeling and a moan escaping her own lips before she pants desperately.

"M-Max?" Y/n chokes out, groggy and unsure of if this is really happening or not.

Not that Max replies with any words.

He wants to give her an orgasm but the overwhelming need to be inside her trumps the need to aim for multiple orgasms. He'll tackle that another time. For now she's slick enough that there shouldn't be so much issue in getting inside her.

"Max." Y/n mumbles as he moves up pushing his boxers down and teasing the tip at her pussy before pushing into her. Sliding smoothly into her while she groans at the feeling.

She's tight, and maybe understandably tense from still not being sure entirely what's happening.

"Fuck." Y/n whines as he pushes till he's fully seated in her heat. "Don't stop."

And Max doesn't need to be told twice for that. He withdraws from her before pushing back in setting a pace that is feeding some primal need that he's really never felt before.

His grip on y/n's waist tightens giving him complete control as he almost mercilessly pounds into her. Her moans and fists clutching at the sheets being enough for him to know she's taking pleasure from rough sex. Noted for future reference.

His pubic bone is knocking her clit just right and she's feel her body build up with tension and heat as she nears her own orgasm. One particularly nudge at her g-spot sends her over the edge and he continues thrusting into her through her twitching and tightening around him, impossibly tight before he finally spills into her. His heavy pants while she presses herself back on the bed.

Y/n swallows thickly before she just holds herself there. Her body sticky and she's looking at Max with hooded eyes as he slowly eases out of her, the cringe on her face giving away that the slight rougher treatment after going untouched for however long.

He'll just have to make sure she doesn't go too long again.

"Are you ok?" Max asks softly pulling his gaze up from seeing his cum leak out of her onto the sheets.

"Yeah....just a bit sore." Y/n nods biting her lip.

To say the least she looks disheveled and a little dazed.

"I would ask if you enjoyed that but I think I have all the proof I need." Max smiles then looking at her for a moment. "How was your time on your own?"

Y/n swallows, she assumed Max may have been watching her. She suspected he may have cameras. Whether they usually act as just securities cameras or not, they were certainly watching her. She just doesn't know where they are.

Of course she's right, Max was always able to check in on her when he had the chance.

"...Can I come with you for the next race?" Y/n mumbles making Max look at her with an expression which certainly feels like he's about to deny her. "Please. Please. I'll be good. I promise. I swear. I'll not even talk, you-you can pretend I'm mute."

Begging and promising to "be good" to the man who kidnapped her just so she can get be with him and not alone might be a new low.

"I'll think about it." Max states letting his gaze flick back down to her pussy. "Come on, let's get cleaned up."

-

Y/n didn't end up going to Monza.

Max decided that it would only benefit him more if she was so openly needy with him after being left for the Dutch GP. By the time he came back from Monza, y/n practically wouldn't leave his side and she was almost holding onto Max the whole time.

So finally he decided she'd be joining him for Singapore.

Her appearance is a surprise to everyone. Literally everyone. No one in Red Bull knew about a girl in his life, no one had a whiff of a rumour of a woman in his life. The team, the fans, the media and the rest of the paddock were all shocked when they saw Max appear with a timid looking y/n by his side.

"Max...who is this?" Daniel questions catching the champion as he stands in conversation with Lando and Oscar. "Where have you had her hidden away?"

Y/n unintentionally tightens her grip on Max's hand but it's not noticeable to the other drivers who seem in awe of seeing her with Max.

"This is y/n, she used to work for one of the sponsors." Max explains earning small intrigued nods. "You can talk y/n." He plays it off as a joke, chuckling which earns smiles from the other drivers.

"Sorry, hi. It's nice to meet you all. It's cool actually. Meeting you and not just watching you on a screen." Y/n states since Max said she doesn't actually have to pretend to be mute.

"Well it's always fun. Make the most of it." Lando smiles looking her up and down, which makes her smile a little awkwardly while Max frowns at him.

"We need to get moving. See you boys on track." Max grumbles looking very much annoyed at the fact he just watched Lando check y/n out.

The rest say their goodbyes before she is pulled along with him to the Red Bull unit. Y/n swallows as she follows him all the way to his driver's room.

Max has been torn about where he wants her to sit while he is out doing media or if he wants her as close as possible so he can keep as close an eye on her.

"What do you think? Can I trust you to come around with me, or should I keep you in here?" Max asks, obviously his question is rhetorical. Her answer won't influence his decision. So she doesn't bother. "If you can behave you can come around with me. We don't do a lot of media so it should be alright."

"Really?" Y/n smiles perking up a little. "I'd rather stay with you than be on my own anyway."

"Good." That's exactly what he wants her to say and he's trusting that she's not just saying it.

He's gotten better at reading her emotion, or maybe she's just gotten worse at hiding it as she's been broken down in her isolation and desperation for Max to let her out from his apartment.

She also just sort of, doesn't feel that urgent need to not be near him anymore. Pushing him away is a foreign though and concept by this point. In fact, things have shifted with Max's presence and how it effects her. She feels safe, his kisses make her feel intoxicated with a need for more of him.

Y/n moves closer, smiling as she looks up at Max. She has gained some confidence with him.

"So what do you do on Thursdays if you're not in the car?" Y/n asks making Max smile as his hands hold her waist.

"Media stuff, we do some stuff for fans on stage. Just talk, answer some questions. Nothing too exciting." Max states earning a nod. "So long as you keep behaving and don't say anything you shouldn't. This is going to go well for you."

He sounds sweet with his voice but the intention behind his voice speaks for itself. Things might be going well, but he's not going to fail to remind her that she is still on thin ice with trust. One wrong move, saying one thing wrong that might raise alarm with someone else is not a wise move. Even if it's accidental.

She's sure she'll be handcuffed to the bed and left there while he is busy as a means of making sure she can't possibly do anything else wrong out of his control.

Y/n just smiles lightly trying to hide her nerves, but Max sees the emotions behind her eyes and he'd be lying if he said he felt no satisfaction in still having the power. He never wants to lose the ability to make her fear him, purely as a means of making sure she never feels like she can leave him.

"Did I tell you how much I like this dress?" Max asks brushing a hand up her inner thigh after raising the hem.

She's only in a silky white slip dress which just about hits her mid-thigh in length and the back is exposed with just a tied string to give it some structure.

"I want you to stay away from the other drivers when I'm not with you." Max states as she feels his fingers pushing the thin and flimsy material of her thong out the way as he teases her as she looks up at him for a moment before dropping her head with a gasp as his finger plunges into her. "Do you understand?"

"Yes." Y/n whimpers before almost pouting when he pulls his fingers back from inside her.

He doesn't even say anything as he moves her to bend of the table in his room. Pressing her upper body down against the cool surface as she feels her dress flip up and he's thrust into her with no need for warning because just the teasing of his fingers and his touch was enough for her to feel more than ready for him.

"You need to stay quiet. Wouldn't want someone hearing you." Max states making her whimper and actually move her hand over her mouth.

This angle is letting him poke at her g-spot with scary precision and she's not even certain he's meaning to. Usually he'll somewhat rely on her clit, but honestly this time with this angle and maybe the thrill of being at his place of work. There's something just pushing her quickly to an orgasm.

Neither of them last long, her tummy tensing before her whole body tries to fight through the orgasm which almost feels like she's trying to push him out rather than suck him in. Not that he lets up, in fact he gets more brutal absolutely pounding into her, picking up her upper body while extending her spasming orgasm around him.

Her hand has fallen from her mouth which has dropped open a little and the beginnings of a loud moan makes his hand clap up and over her mouth, blocking the noise as he slams into her a couple more times then spills his cum into her, so much so that it leaks out around his dick held deep inside her.

He doesn't move them for a moment before he rubs her waist for a moment then returning her to lie her upper body down. Her lips let a small whimper pass at the feel of this angle pushing against her g-spot yet again. But he slowly pulls out taking a moment to appreciate the view before he scoops some of his cum leaking from her onto his fingers.

"Open your mouth, baby." Max instructs, knowing she'll do what she's told he reaches his hand around to her face and pokes his fingers between her lips. The obedience he's perfectly instilled into her meaning she sucks the warm cum from his fingers before he feels it cleans from his skin and pulls his hand back. "Don't move. I need to clean you up."

And she doesn't she lies there just waiting.

Max can definitely get used to this and he's certain there's been enough damage to her that he has got her exactly the way he wants her. She's been moulded into the exact girlfriend he wanted her to be from the moment he saw her and knew he'd make her his.

Was it the most morally righteous method of getting a girlfriend? No.

But did he get exactly what he wanted and will he change anything? Yes he did, and no he won't.

Y/n will be his and only his and she's never ever getting away from him. If she plays up, she'll be back in Monaco locked in that apartment for as long as he deems necessary.

But he has a feeling she's learned that her place is by his side or waiting for him so she can be by his side again.

Max cleans her up and smiles as she seems to try and readjust everything making sure her hair is tidy and her dress doesn't look creased or sitting wrong.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you."

"Try to keep to yourself. I don't want you talking to drivers, but really I'd rather you didn't talk to anyone much. Avoid talking too much." Max states watching her smile waver as he sighs gently moving his hand down from cupping her face to holding her around her throat with some light pressure. "Just because I trust you to come with me and not cause trouble. Doesn't mean that you're free to do whatever you want. You get my permission to do anything. I don't want to see you talking to people."

"Ok." Y/n nods though only slightly thanks to his hand at her neck.

"I do this because I love you, y/n."

"I love you too, Max." Y/n smiles, because despite being scared of the man. Hearing those three words brings an annoying effective warmth throughout her body.

He uses the hold on her neck to pull her forward slightly kissing her heavily, his possessiveness communicated perfectly. And his warning will stay with her.

Max is the one in control. He's got the power between them and he'll use it if she doesn't live by his rules.

He literally kidnapped her and he's got away with it and now, she says she loves him without an ounce of doubt in her body even when he makes clear threats to her.

I’m fucking FERAL for this man, pls tell me I’m not the only one?😳😳😳

Fantasy Come to Life

Day 23 → Consensual Non-Consent 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content, CNC, drugging, and conditioning

Kinktober Masterlist

The streets of Monaco glimmer under the soft afternoon sun, a golden haze coating the narrow lanes of boutiques and cafés. Your sandals click against the cobblestone as you make your way towards the boutique district.

Excitement pulses in your veins. The air smells of salt from the sea mixed with expensive perfumes wafting from open shop doors. A vacation, you think. Finally, a breath of freedom.

There’s a group of tourists ahead, their laughter bouncing between the buildings, but you don’t pay them much attention. You’re too busy thinking about the new dress you’ve been eyeing since last night. Just a few more minutes, and you’ll-

A hand. Suddenly.

It’s over your mouth. It’s over your nose. You barely process the scent of something sweet before your body reacts, muscles tensing as you thrash, trying to scream. But your voice is gone. Your world is tipping sideways. The bustling streets dim, muffled voices becoming far-off echoes.

You struggle. Harder now, your legs kicking wildly, hands flailing to grab onto something — anything — but it’s useless. The arms around you are too strong, pulling you back, pulling you down. The cloth over your face smells like chemicals, sickly sweet and heavy.

The light above you begins to blur. Your fingers twitch, reaching for the fading streetlights, for the sky, but everything’s too far away. Your limbs stop responding. You’re falling.

And then — nothing.

***

When you come to, your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. Everything is hazy, dark. You try to move but your body doesn’t listen. Panic flares. You can barely breathe, and your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton.

Then you hear voices. Men, low and murmuring, their words filtering into your consciousness through the haze.

“... should be waking up soon,” one of them says. His voice is smooth, calm, like this is all perfectly normal.

“Why her, though?” It’s the driver, speaking in a clipped tone. The rumble of the engine thrums beneath you, the subtle vibration reminding you that you’re in a car. “There are thousands of beautiful women here, Max. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

There’s a pause.

And then, a deeper voice, Max, answers.

“I knew the moment I saw her,” Max says, his tone dark, possessive. “She’s meant to be mine.”

Your heart thuds. You can hear him shifting in the seat next to you, close enough that you can feel the heat of him.

The driver scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know her.”

“I don’t need to,” Max replies smoothly. “Some things are undeniable.”

His words drip with confidence, like this is all part of some grand plan that only he understands.

You try to move again, to make a sound, but your limbs are heavy and unresponsive, and fear curls in your stomach like a fist. You’re trapped, lying motionless in the backseat of this car with two strangers, one of whom thinks he owns you.

“She’ll resist,” the driver says. “They always resist.”

Max chuckles, low and quiet. “Of course she will. At first.” There’s a pause, then you hear him shift closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “But I’ll make her understand. She’ll be perfect once I’ve made her mine.”

The air around you feels suffocating, his presence overwhelming. You want to scream, to cry, but your body remains limp, powerless under whatever they’ve drugged you with. You try to focus, to force your eyes open, but it’s like swimming through quicksand.

“She’s pretty,” the driver remarks after a beat. “But not worth all this. You really think she’s the one?”

Max lets out a quiet laugh, a sound that sends chills down your spine. “She is the one. I’ve seen plenty of women, but none like her.”

The driver grunts, unconvinced. “You sound obsessed.”

“I’m not obsessed,” Max corrects him, his tone calm, deliberate. “I’m certain.”

A silence stretches between them, the only sound the hum of the engine and the faint rustle of fabric as Max leans back.

You fight against the drug still clouding your senses, trying to make sense of your surroundings. The luxurious leather beneath you, the soft vibrations of the car — this isn’t just any car. It’s expensive. You can tell by the way it smells, by the subtle way it moves over the road. These men — they aren’t amateurs.

“What’s the plan, then?” The driver asks, breaking the silence. “You can’t just keep her like this.”

Max takes his time responding. “I’ll introduce myself properly once she wakes up. Once she’s calm.”

“And if she’s not?”

“She will be,” Max says, a thread of steel weaving into his voice. “She doesn’t have a choice.”

Your stomach churns. You try again to move, to scream, but nothing comes out. It’s like your body is a prison, and you’re trapped inside, helpless. You feel Max’s gaze on you, heavy, unyielding. Even though you can’t see him, you know he’s watching, waiting.

“You’re insane,” the driver mutters, shaking his head. “This is a bad idea.”

Max doesn’t respond immediately. When he does, his voice is low, quiet, almost intimate. “You don’t understand,” he says. “She belongs to me. I knew it the moment I saw her walk out of that hotel. I could feel it.”

The driver sighs. “I still don’t get it. Why go through all this trouble? She’s just a girl.”

“She’s not just a girl,” Max snaps, his patience thinning. “She’s the girl. The only one.”

Your pulse quickens. You’ve heard enough to know that whatever Max wants from you, it’s not something you can just walk away from. There’s something dangerous about the way he talks about you, like you’re an object, something to be claimed and owned.

“Whatever,” the driver says, clearly done with the conversation. “Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“I always do,” Max replies, the confidence back in his voice. “Now, keep driving.”

There’s a shift in the car, a turn, and you feel the momentum change as they head somewhere new. You fight to stay conscious, to fight through the fog in your mind, but it’s getting harder and harder to focus. The drugs are still working their way through your system, and you can feel yourself slipping.

Max leans in closer again, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll wake up soon. And when you do, we’ll start over. Properly this time.”

The car hums beneath you as it continues its journey, and with every second that passes, you feel yourself fading again, drifting away into the darkness.

***

Time slips away, and you don’t know how long you’ve been out when you finally stir. Your eyes flutter open, and the world slowly comes back into focus. The car has stopped, parked somewhere dark and quiet. You can barely move, but you manage to shift slightly, just enough to feel the weight of the leather seat beneath you, the tightness of your clothes against your skin.

There’s a rustle next to you, and then Max is there, leaning over you, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. “You’re awake.”

You try to speak, but your throat is dry, and all that comes out is a faint croak.

“Shh,” Max soothes, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Don’t try to talk. You’re still a little out of it.”

Your heart races, and you try to push yourself up, but your limbs are still sluggish, your body refusing to obey.

Max watches you for a moment, then smiles. “Don’t worry,” he says. “This will all make sense soon enough.”

You want to scream, to lash out, to fight, but you can’t. You’re trapped, and Max knows it.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, leaning in close, his breath warm against your skin. “And I’ll make sure you understand that.”

Terror grips you, but there’s nothing you can do. Not yet.

Max sits back, his eyes never leaving you, and for the first time, you realize just how much danger you’re in.

The world outside the car is quiet, the faint rustle of leaves the only sound in the stillness. You’re groggy, trying to push through the fog in your mind as Max’s hands move to unbuckle your seatbelt. His touch is efficient, calculated, not gentle. The door opens with a soft click, and you feel the cool night air wash over your skin.

Max leans down, his face close to yours, eyes sharp and watchful. “I’m going to carry you inside,” he says, almost as if he’s giving you permission to protest. But you can’t. You can barely lift your head. The drug still lingers, turning your limbs to lead.

Without another word, he slides his arms under you, lifting you effortlessly. His grip is secure, possessive, and you can feel the strength in his muscles as he carries you out of the car and toward the looming silhouette of a villa in the distance. It’s massive. Larger than anything you’ve ever seen in real life, with sprawling gardens that stretch into the darkness. The villa itself is lit from within, a soft glow spilling through tall windows. It’s beautiful in a cold, detached way, like a piece of art you can admire but never touch.

As Max carries you up the long driveway, his pace is steady, unhurried. He isn’t worried about anyone seeing him. He’s confident. Why wouldn’t he be? There’s no one around. No one to help.

“Where are you taking me?” You manage to whisper, your voice weak but steady enough to ask the question that’s been burning in your mind.

Max doesn’t stop walking. He doesn’t even look at you. “Home,” he replies simply.

You swallow, the word landing like a stone in your chest. “This isn’t-”

“It will be,” he cuts you off, his voice calm, like he’s already made up his mind about everything. “You’ll see.”

You try to focus, to take in every detail. The way the villa seems to stretch forever, the heavy scent of flowers in the air, the distant hum of the sea. The weight of Max’s arms around you, the way his fingers press into your skin as though he’s afraid you might slip away.

But you’re not slipping anywhere.

He carries you through the grand entrance, past doors that swing open with ease, revealing a marble-floored foyer that’s so pristine, it feels untouched. There’s a quietness to the place, a hollow, echoing silence that sends a chill down your spine.

The sound of Max’s shoes against the marble floor is steady, rhythmic, as he carries you through the house. You catch glimpses of rooms as you pass — an opulent dining room with a crystal chandelier, a sitting room with velvet chairs and enormous windows. But it’s all a blur, your mind struggling to hold on to details as exhaustion pulls at you.

Finally, Max stops in front of a set of tall double doors. He shifts you slightly in his arms, then pushes one of the doors open with his shoulder. The room beyond is lavish, even more opulent than the rest of the villa. The bed is massive, draped in silk and velvet, with heavy curtains framing the windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. The walls are lined with dark wood, polished to a shine, and a crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting soft light across the room.

Max walks over to the bed, lowering you gently onto the soft mattress. Your body sinks into the silk sheets, and for a moment, it feels like you’re floating. But the comfort is fleeting, replaced quickly by the suffocating weight of reality.

He stands over you, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s searching for something. “This is where you’ll stay for now,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “Until you understand.”

You blink, struggling to keep your thoughts from spiraling out of control. “Understand what?”

Max’s lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile. “That you belong here. With me.”

You want to argue, to scream, to do anything to break through the haze that’s clouding your mind. But the words catch in your throat, and all you can manage is a shaky breath.

Max moves to the foot of the bed, his hands clasped behind his back as he regards you with that same unnerving calm. “This is the beginning,” he says softly. “The conditioning will start now.”

Your heart lurches. Conditioning. The word feels clinical, detached, like something out of a textbook. But the way Max says it makes it clear that this is no abstract concept. This is real. It’s happening to you.

“What are you talking about?” You whisper, forcing the words past the lump in your throat.

Max steps closer, his gaze steady, almost gentle. “You’re going to learn to associate certain things with me. Pleasure, comfort, safety. And you’ll learn that being without me ... hurts.” He says it so simply, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your stomach twists. “You can’t ... you can’t do this.”

“I already am,” he replies smoothly, his eyes dark and unreadable. “The process is simple. Every time you wake up, you’ll feel better when I’m here. Worse when I’m not. Eventually, it’ll become instinct. You’ll crave my presence. You’ll need me.”

Your breath quickens, panic rising in your chest. “You’re insane.”

Max tilts his head slightly, as though considering your words. “Maybe,” he says, almost casually. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

Before you can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Max doesn’t react, doesn’t even turn to look as the door swings open. A man enters, dressed in a white coat, carrying a small bag in one hand. He’s older, with graying hair and a sharp, clinical air about him. He looks at you briefly, then turns his attention to Max.

“Everything’s prepared,” the man says, his voice clipped and professional.

Max nods. “Good. Let’s begin.”

The man moves to the side of the bed, setting his bag down on the nightstand. You try to push yourself up, but your body still feels sluggish, uncooperative. Fear surges through you as the man opens the bag, pulling out a syringe filled with clear liquid.

“Wait,” you rasp, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please, don’t do this.”

Max moves closer, his gaze fixed on you. “It’s for your own good,” he says softly. “You’ll understand soon.”

The physician takes your arm, finding a vein with practiced ease. You flinch, but the needle is in before you can even protest. The liquid burns as it enters your bloodstream, a slow, creeping warmth that spreads through your body.

Your vision starts to blur again, the edges of the room fading into darkness. Max’s voice is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

“You’ll wake up soon,” he says, his voice gentle, almost soothing. “And when you do, I’ll be here. Right where I belong.”

***

The next time you open your eyes, it feels like hours have passed. Maybe days. You’re not sure. The room is the same, the heavy curtains drawn, the chandelier casting its soft glow across the dark wood and silk.

Max is there, sitting in a chair by the bed, watching you. His presence is like a weight in the room, something you can feel even before you fully register it. The sight of him sends a strange warmth through your chest, a flicker of something you don’t want to acknowledge.

“You’re awake,” he says, his voice low and steady.

You blink, trying to shake off the fog that still clings to your mind. “What ... what did you do?”

Max leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I told you,” he says softly. “The conditioning has begun.”

You try to sit up, but your body feels weak, drained. The drug — whatever they gave you — is still working its way through your system, dulling your senses. But even through the haze, you can feel it. The strange pull toward Max, the inexplicable comfort that his presence brings. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong.

“You can’t-” you start, but your voice falters. The words don’t come as easily as they should.

Max stands, moving to the side of the bed. “I know it’s confusing right now,” he says, his tone almost kind. “But it’ll get easier. The more time we spend together, the more natural it’ll feel. You’ll stop fighting it.”

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog. “I’ll never-”

“You will,” Max interrupts, his voice firm but not harsh. “You don’t have a choice.”

He reaches out, brushing a hand over your hair, his touch gentle but possessive. The warmth that spreads through you at the contact is immediate, overwhelming, and you hate it. You hate the way your body responds, the way your mind seems to betray you.

“I’ll leave you for now,” Max says, pulling his hand back. “But don’t worry. I won’t be gone long.”

Your heart races as he steps away, moving toward the door. The thought of him leaving sends a sharp pang through your chest, and you can’t understand why. This is what you want. To be free of him. To be alone.

But as the door closes behind him, the room suddenly feels colder, emptier. The warmth he left behind begins to fade, replaced by an aching void that gnaws at you from the inside.

You close your eyes, trying to fight it, trying to cling to your own thoughts, but the emptiness crashes over you like a tidal wave. It’s immediate — sharp and suffocating, spreading through your body like a cold fog. You close your eyes, trying to focus on anything else, but the ache pulses deep inside you. Your muscles tense as though they’re bracing against a storm, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

The room feels unbearably quiet without him, as though the air has been sucked out, leaving only a hollow silence behind. You hate this. You hate how quickly your body has betrayed you, how quickly the comfort of his presence has taken root inside you.

This is wrong, you tell yourself. It’s the drugs, the conditioning.

But the longer he’s gone, the more unbearable the ache becomes. It’s subtle at first, like a distant pressure, but it grows stronger, clawing at your insides until every nerve feels raw and exposed. Your breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps as you fight against the pull, but it’s relentless.

Time stretches out. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying there, staring up at the ceiling, but it feels like an eternity. Every second without him feels like a thousand needles pressing into your skin. Your body screams for relief, for the warmth of his presence to soothe the burning ache inside you.

You grit your teeth, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. This isn’t real, you think, but your body doesn’t care. All it knows is that it hurts.

And then, after what feels like an eternity, the door opens.

The relief is instant. The moment Max steps into the room, the ache that’s been gnawing at you recedes, replaced by a wave of warmth that rushes through your veins. You hate it. You hate how quickly the pain fades, how easily your body responds to him, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

Max walks in slowly, his eyes locked on you, taking in every detail of your face as if reading the changes in your expression. You don’t need to speak for him to know what you’re feeling. He can see it. He can see how desperate your body is for the comfort he brings, even though your mind is screaming for it to stop.

“I told you,” Max says softly, moving closer to the bed. “You’ll feel better when I’m here.”

You don’t respond. You can’t. Your throat feels tight, the words trapped inside you, and the worst part is you don’t know if they’d come out as anger or something worse.

Max sits on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. The touch is gentle, careful, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m here to make you feel good,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “That’s what I’ll always do. As long as you behave for me.”

You swallow hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. He says it like a promise, like he genuinely believes that he’s helping you.

“I don’t need you,” you manage to whisper, your voice shaking. “I don’t want this.”

Max’s smile is soft, almost pitying. “Your body says otherwise.” His fingers trail down your cheek, brushing against your skin. “You can fight it all you want, but you’ll always feel better when I’m close. That’s the way it’s going to be.”

You try to pull away from his touch, but your body betrays you, craving the warmth and relief that comes with his proximity. The ache that had threatened to consume you moments ago is gone, replaced by a simmering heat that spreads through your limbs, making your skin tingle under his fingertips.

Max watches you closely, his eyes dark and calculating as he gauges your reaction. “See?” He murmurs, his voice soft and coaxing. “You’re already starting to understand.”

“I hate you,” you whisper, but even as you say the words, your body is reacting to him, leaning into his touch despite the protests screaming in your mind.

Max doesn’t flinch at your words. If anything, he seems amused. “Hate me if you want,” he says, his tone light. “But your body knows the truth.”

His hand moves lower, trailing down your arm, sending a ripple of sensation through you that you can’t control. Your breath catches in your throat as the warmth intensifies, and you clench your fists, trying to fight the pull.

Max’s fingers skim the edge of your dress, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches the way your body reacts. “You’ll feel good, I promise,” he whispers. “Better than you’ve ever felt before.”

You shake your head, panic rising in your chest. “No-”

But Max doesn’t stop. His hand slips under the fabric of your dress, his touch deliberate and slow as he hikes it up over your thighs, exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and something you don’t want to name thrumming through your veins.

“Shh,” Max soothes, his voice steady. “You’ll learn to trust me. To need me. It’s already happening.”

You try to close your legs, but his hands are firm, guiding you open, controlling the movement of your body as if you’re nothing more than a doll in his hands. A small, broken sound escapes your throat, but he doesn’t stop, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin, making your pulse quicken.

“I told you I’d make you feel good,” he says softly, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You don’t have to fight it.”

Tears prick at your eyes, your chest heaving with shallow, uneven breaths. You want to scream, to kick, to fight him off, but the weight of your own body holds you down. And worse — the warmth that follows his touch, the heat building in your core, it betrays you. You can’t stop the way your body reacts to him, no matter how much you want to.

Max shifts, his knee pressing against the bed as he leans over you, his hand sliding higher under your dress. His fingers graze the edge of your underwear, and your breath hitches, panic and unwanted anticipation coiling together inside you.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “Don’t.”

But Max doesn’t listen. His hand slips beneath the fabric, his fingers brushing against you, and the sensation is overwhelming. You arch against him involuntarily, your body moving without your consent, and the heat inside you builds, the ache that had threatened to consume you earlier morphing into something entirely different.

“You’ll come to love this,” Max says, his tone calm, confident. “In time, you’ll crave it.”

You want to scream that he’s wrong, that you’ll never crave this, but your body doesn’t listen. It reacts to his touch, to the way his fingers move, coaxing a response out of you that you can’t control.

Max’s other hand moves to your hair, brushing it back gently as he leans down, his lips close to your ear. “Let go,” he whispers. “Stop fighting it. I’ll take care of you.”

Your breath is ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as the heat builds inside you, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge, caught between the need to escape and the unbearable sensation that’s pushing you closer to a precipice you don’t want to fall over.

“I’ll always make you feel good,” Max murmurs, his fingers moving faster over your clit, his voice a steady, calming presence in the storm raging inside you. “As long as you’re good for me.”

Your body tenses, the wave crashing over you, pulling you under. You gasp, your back arching off the bed as the sensation overwhelms you, drowning out every thought, every protest, until there’s nothing left but the blinding heat of release.

Max’s hand stills, his touch softening as the aftershocks ripple through you, and he watches, his expression unreadable as you come undone beneath him. You hate it. You hate every second of it. But the worst part is that your body craves it.

Max leans back, his hand trailing away from you, leaving your skin burning in its absence. He stands, adjusting his sleeves as though nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

“You did well,” he says, his voice soft, almost tender. “I’ll leave you to rest now.”

Your body is limp, your mind spinning as you try to process what’s just happened. The ache is gone, replaced by an empty exhaustion that weighs heavily on your limbs.

Max heads toward the door, pausing only briefly to glance back at you. “Remember,” he says quietly, his eyes dark and intense. “You’ll always feel better when I’m here.”

Then he’s gone, the door closing softly behind him.

You lie there, staring at the ceiling, the echo of his touch still lingering on your skin. The room is silent again, but this time the silence isn’t cold. It’s suffocating, pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, and for the first time since you arrived in this place, you realize just how trapped you are.

And worst of all, you know that he’s right.

***

The door opens again.

This time, when you hear it, your body doesn’t flood with fear, or even confusion — it’s anticipation. The ache that had returned in his absence is quickly soothed as Max steps into the room, his presence undeniable, filling the space with a charged energy that you’ve come to crave.

His steps are measured, deliberate, as he crosses the room to you. There’s no hesitation in his movement, no uncertainty. He knows exactly what he’s doing and what you both agreed upon. The room feels smaller when he’s in it, like the walls close in, but in a way that feels safe, protected — like nothing can touch you except him.

Max’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile as he comes to the side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. He says nothing at first, letting the moment linger between you, thick and heavy. You’re not sure if you should speak or wait for him to break the silence.

He doesn’t make you wait long.

“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, his voice like velvet as he leans down, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “You were perfect.”

There’s a flutter of warmth in your chest at the praise, something that makes you feel both proud and vulnerable all at once. You blink up at him, your body still exhausted from what just happened, but there’s something comforting about the way he’s looking at you now. The way his hand reaches out to caress your cheek, tender and affectionate, as if to erase any remnants of the harshness from before.

“I wasn’t sure if you could handle it,” Max continues, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with an intimacy that feels far more personal than anything he’s done before. “But you did. You always do, don’t you?”

You nod, your throat tight, the words caught somewhere between your mind and your mouth. You can’t quite shake the feeling of how intense everything was, how quickly it all escalated. But now, with him here, touching you like this, the pieces of the scene start to fall away, revealing what lies underneath.

Max watches you, waiting for your response, but he’s patient. He always is, especially after something like this. He knows you need time to come back down, to find your footing after the role you’ve both played.

“Was it … okay?” You manage to ask, your voice still soft and hesitant. There’s a vulnerability in your tone, a need for reassurance, even though you know how he feels.

Max’s eyes soften, and he leans down to kiss you — soft, slow, and deliberate. His lips linger against yours, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. It’s a different kind of intensity now, one that speaks to the connection you both share. When he finally pulls back, there’s a hint of amusement in his gaze.

“More than okay,” he whispers. “You were incredible.”

The tension that had been coiled inside you loosens at his words, and you feel yourself relax against the pillows. Max’s praise always has this effect on you, like it fills in the cracks and makes everything feel right again.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your lower lip as he studies your face. “Every second of it was perfect because it was with you.”

The weight of those words settles into your chest, grounding you in the reality of what you both share. It’s all an act — a scene you agreed upon. Max has always been careful, always made sure you were okay with everything. That’s how it works between you two. The intensity, the control, the power dynamic — it’s all part of the game, part of what you’ve both built together. But underneath it all is the love, the trust that binds you to him.

He presses another kiss to your lips, softer this time, a gesture of affection rather than dominance. When he pulls away, there’s a lightness in his expression, a warmth that makes the remnants of the scene melt away completely.

“I have something for you,” he says, standing up and walking toward the door. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

You watch as he exits the room, the anticipation building again, though this time it’s mixed with curiosity. Moments later, Max returns, pushing a small cart laden with trays of food. The smell hits you first — rich, savory, and mouthwatering. Your stomach growls in response, reminding you that you haven’t eaten in what feels like forever.

Max notices, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a satisfied smile. “I thought you might be hungry.”

You sit up slightly, propping yourself on your elbows as Max wheels the cart over to the side of the bed. He lifts the lids from the trays, revealing an array of delicacies — perfectly grilled meats, roasted vegetables, fresh fruit, and decadent desserts. It’s more than just a meal, it’s a feast.

“Let me,” Max says, reaching for a fork. He cuts a small piece of steak and holds it out to you, his eyes watching your every movement, waiting for you to take the first bite.

You hesitate for only a moment before leaning forward, letting him feed you. The flavors burst across your tongue, rich and savory, and you can’t help the small sound of appreciation that escapes your lips.

Max’s smile widens. “Good?”

You nod, swallowing before responding. “It’s amazing.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and there’s that familiar warmth in his voice again, the praise sinking into your skin like sunlight. He cuts another piece of food, feeding it to you before leaning in to kiss you between bites.

Each kiss is soft, slow, and filled with an affection that feels worlds away from the intensity of earlier. You sink into the moment, into the comfort of his presence, letting yourself be taken care of.

“You were so perfect for me,” Max whispers between kisses, his lips brushing against your cheek. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

You smile softly, feeling the tension of the day melt away as you let him feed you, let him take care of you. There’s something intimate about the act, something grounding. It’s not just about the food — it’s about the connection, the way he looks at you with such devotion in his eyes.

Max takes his time, savoring the moment as much as you are. He alternates between feeding you and stealing kisses, each one a little longer, a little deeper than the last. His hands are gentle as they move over your skin, brushing your hair back, cupping your face, his touch always lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“You have no idea how proud I am of you,” he murmurs against your lips. “The way you trust me, the way you let go. It’s everything I could ever want.”

You close your eyes, leaning into him, the warmth of his words settling deep inside you. It’s always like this after a scene — the tenderness, the closeness. Max knows how to bring you back, how to make you feel safe and loved after everything.

“I couldn’t do it without you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Max pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softening even more. “We do this together. That’s what makes it so special.”

There’s a weight to his words, a promise that echoes in the quiet of the room. You nod, knowing it’s true. You wouldn’t be able to do any of this without him — not the scenes, not the intensity, not the way you let yourself go completely when you’re with him.

Max leans in again, kissing you deeply this time, his hands cradling your face as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. When he finally pulls away, there’s a hunger in his eyes, but it’s not the same hunger from earlier. This one is softer, more intimate, and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“I love you,” he says again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” you reply, the words coming easily, naturally, because they’re the truest thing you know.

Max smiles, a slow, satisfied smile that makes your stomach flip. He reaches for one of the desserts on the tray — a small piece of chocolate cake — and holds it out to you. You take a bite, and before you can even swallow, Max is kissing you again, his lips tasting of chocolate and sweetness.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against your lips, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of kisses and laughter, the food slowly disappearing from the trays as Max continues to feed you, praising you with every bite and every kiss. The intensity of earlier is long gone, replaced by something deeper, something that feels like home.

And as you lie there in his arms, sated and content, you know that no matter what happens, no matter how intense the scenes get, you’ll always have this — this quiet, tender intimacy that belongs to just the two of you.

“Thank you for everything” — Max Verstappen x Platonic!Fem!F1 academy!Driver

warnings—HEAVY ANGST death of a character and sad max

Word count 3.7k

The beginning of this fic is based on this video

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP81gqepM/

————————————————————-

Also thank you to @sweate-r-weathe-r and @jadesaturn for beta reading this thing

Max sat on the chair next to y/n's bed looking down at the girl. His friendship with her was important as she was like a little sister to him. Even then he saw himself in the younger girl — another version of him, hardworking and dedicated to the sport.

Max always thought Y/n would make it to Formula One if it wasn’t for the accident. She would have been a possible contender for the second Red Bull seat, which Max would do anything to make happen. Just like he’d do anything to wake her up.

He thought back to when they had that interview when y/n joked saying that “Max wasn’t allowed to retire until they were teammates,” something that he was fine with.

"Hi, I'm Max Verstappen, and I'm a Miami taxi driver," Max joked. Y/n smiled at the camera and introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Y/n l/n, and I'm an F1 academy driver."

The two drivers were seated in the rear of the car, with Max holding a can of Red Bull, and Y/n clutching her water bottle. They both were wearing a Red Bull team polo shirt and a hat to match.

Max turned to Y/n and teased, "That sounded better than my intro," which led to a chuckle from both of them. "Stroopwafels or Poffertjes?" Y/n asked, sparking a friendly debate. "I would go with Stroopwafels, but that's only because I think I had too many Poffertjes when I was growing up," Max replied with a grin. The interviewer then asked about their most memorable races.

"For me, it's Barcelona because my first win was there," Y/n said, smiling and nodding her head. "Winning my first Formula 1 race, as well " Max responded with enthusiasm. "That was your first win in Barcelona, right?" the interviewer clarified. "Yep, Barcelona is good to us," Max confirmed, looking over at Y/n. "Yeah, Barcelona is good to us," Y/n chimed in.

The memory of the thrilling moment lingers vividly in her mind. She vividly recalls the exhilarating instant she surpassed Lia Block just as they crossed the finish line, securing first place. Her veins pulsed with adrenaline as she gingerly rose from the car, feeling the weight of her legs and the trembling sensation. With a triumphant smile, she emerged from the car and dashed toward the barrier where her team awaited, leaping into the air amidst the cheering crowd. Y/n's heart pounded wildly in her ears, reminiscent of the thundering sound of galloping horses in full stride.

The interview moved on to discussing their racing career and their experiences. Y/n shared how she started in karting and worked her way up through the motorsport ladder. Max chimed in, recalling his karting origins as well as the passion and dedication throughout his journey. The interviewer asked, "What's the best part about being a driver?"

Max answered, "It's the adrenaline rush of racing and the feeling of success when you win a race." "I agree," Y/n added. "The thrill of racing and the satisfaction of improving." The interview continued, and the conversation shifted to their off-track lives.

"What's your favorite pastime outside of racing?" the interviewer asked. "I like to relax and spend time with friends and family," Y/n replied. Max chuckled and added, "I'm a bit of a video game enthusiast."

"I've learned that playing video games requires as much focus and skill as racing," Y/n teased. "So, Max, any special someone in your life?" the interviewer jokes, prompting smiles from both drivers.

Max chuckled and jokingly replied, "Yeah, my two cats." Y/n joined in, chiming in with, "I have a goldfish, does that count?" Causing everyone around them to laugh at her statement. The interview took a lighthearted turn as they began discussing their favorite tracks and memories.

"Apart from Barcelona, what's your favorite track?" the interviewer asked. "Spa," Y/n responded without hesitation. "The Belgian crowds are amazing, and it's a historic track."

Max nodded, adding, "Spa's a good one. For me, it's hard to beat my home track, Zandvoort."

“Oooh I love Zandvoort” y/n responded with a gleam in her eyes. Max grinned, looking at Y/n's enthusiasm. "I knew you had good taste in tracks," he teased. "Zandvoort has a unique atmosphere, and the fans are passionate." The interview moved on to questions about their relationship, and the conversation took a more serious turn. "It's no secret that you two have a close relationship," the interviewer said. "How would you describe your bond?" Max looked at Y/n, waiting for her to respond. Y/n smiled and spoke with confidence, "We're like siblings. We know each other inside and out, and we can rely on each other no matter what." Max added to her answer, saying, "We support each other both on and off the track. It's a rare connection, and I'm grateful for it." The interviewer smiled and nodded “And lastly do the two of you see yourselves as teammates in the future?” They asked.

Max looked at Y/n, and they both smiled before Max responded with a hint of determination. "That's the plan. Y/n and I have been working together for years, pushing each other and learning from each other. Together, we could make history." Y/n nodded in agreement.

“I also told Max that he’s not allowed to retire until we become teammates” Y/n jokes. Max chuckled and jokingly retorted, "I guess I'll have to stick around for a bit longer, then." Y/n smiled, adding, "You better keep that promise. We have big dreams to fulfill." The interviewer wrapped up the interview, expressing gratitude to both Y/n and Max for the insightful conversation. As they walked out of the studio, Max turned to Y/n. "You know, you have a way with words." Y/n shrugged, "What can I say? We're a great team." "We are," Max agreed, putting his arm around Y/n's shoulder. "But I have to admit, you saying that I can't retire until we become teammates was pretty funny."

“Oh I was serious” Max chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Are you saying you'll try to block my retirement?” Y/n shrugged with a mischievous smile, "If that's what it takes to become teammates, then you bet I will."

Max shook his head in amused disbelief. "You're something else, you know that?"

Y/n just smiled, enjoying the lighthearted banter between them. “Trust me Max I know”

Wiping away the tears from his eyes Max's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the hospital room door opening. A nurse entered, checking on Y/n's vitals and making sure everything was alright.

Taking a moment to observe the girl, Max couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Despite the steady beeping of the heart monitor, Y/n lay eerily still in her bed, her condition critical.

The nurse, sensing Max's concern, walked over to him. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder rubbing her thumb against his shoulder.

“You should go home and get some rest” the nurse suggested in a soft but firm tone. Max scoffed at her statement he wasn’t exactly in the mood for unsolicited advice from anyone at the moment.

"How is she doing?" Max inquired, his voice filled with worry, he didn’t care about anything else that wasn’t his friend.

The nurse glanced at Y/n's chart before responding, "Her condition remains critical, but no change so far."

Max nodded, staring at Y/n's still form, praying for some sign of improvement.

“I meant what I said before Mr.Verstappen you should go home and rest. I don’t think your friend would want you to sit here and beat yourself up over something you can’t control.” The nurse says with a tight-lipped smile and a soft tone.

Max turned his attention back to his friend. He reached out to hold Y/n's hand, feeling the coolness of her skin against his own.

"Come on, Y/n. You've got to pull through," Max whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

Max closed his eyes, recalling the memory of the accident vividly. He could still hear the sound of the collision and the sight of Y/n's car spinning out of control. It was a scene that he had replayed countless times in his mind.

He remembered the rush of fear and adrenaline when he first saw the accident and the way his heart stopped when he realized it was Y/n in the mangled car.

Max clenched his fists, the emotions from that day flooding back to him. The helplessness he had felt as he watched the paramedics rush to the scene, the desperate hope that she would be okay. And the sickening feeling in his stomach when he was informed of the extent of her injuries.

Y/n’s skin was covered in dark purple bruises and cuts that were covered with gauze, curious Max reached over and grabbed the folder that contained the information about Y/n’s injuries. She had eternal bruises and a fractured rib followed by two broken ones; her femur, the radius, and the ulna in her right arm were also broken. The more Max read on her injuries the more he felt sick to his stomach.

Y/n also had a small hairline fracture in her skull instinctively Max touched the side of his head from when he had his big accident back in 2021 during the Silverstone Grand Prix realizing how lucky he was. Continuing reading the charts y/n was also punctured by a piece of carbon fiber slicing through her Kidney, Liver, and aorta artery causing major blood loss the more Max read about y/n the sicker he felt.

The accident had happened during a pre-season Barcelona test. It was supposed to be just a routine session, a chance to try out some new car parts and strategize for the upcoming season.

But things went awry when Y/n lost control of her car on the rain-dampened track. Her car skidded out of control, slamming into the safety barrier with a sickening crunch.

The impact had been severe, and Max's heart stopped as he watched the chaotic scene unfolding before him. Max watched on the monitors as the medics worked on pulling her bloodied and unconscious form from the wreckage.

In that instant, Max's world had shifted. The laughter and banter they had shared just moments ago in the interview room now felt like a cruel echo of the present. As he sat by her bedside, holding her motionless hand, all Max could think about was how unfair life could be.

Somehow by the grace of god, Max was convinced that he should go home, shower, and rest. Sighing Max walked into his apartment tossing his keys onto the table by the door he was also greeted by his two cats Jimmy and Sassy who he was grateful to see.

“Hi guys,” Max says squatting down to pet the cats who were happy to see their dad. “Are you hungry?” Max asked walking into the kitchen to feed the cats. Once the cats were fed and happy Max went to his bedroom turning on the light he walked over to his dresser picking out clean clothes to put on after his shower. Emptying his pockets Max plugged in his phone to charge while he was showing.

In the bathroom, Max gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He appeared worn out, with a complexion flushed and swollen from tears. His eyes were bloodshot and stung from sleep deprivation, and the dark circles beneath them were a deep shade of purple. Once Max took in his appearance he turned in the shower to the desired temperature of water and stripped out of his clothes.

The hot water felt good on his sore muscles, something Max was grateful for in that moment. He stood there underneath the water until it turned cold. That's when Max got out of the shower and got dressed. It wasn’t long after his shower Max got into bed for the night sleep welcoming him as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Max was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing groaning out in exhaustion. He sat up in bed and looked at his phone to see who was calling him. Max felt his heart race at the sight of y/n’s calling him. Max immediately. Answered her phone call.

“Mrs. L/n is everything alright?” Max asked, standing up to pace around his bedroom.

Max was met with silence from the other end of the phone “Oh Max I’m so sorry” Mrs. L/n lets out shakily and Max’s heart breaks even more than it already was.

“No no she didn’t— she’s still here she has to be,” Max says in denial refusing to accept the harsh reality that his friend was gone.

"Max, I'm sorry. She’s gone," Mrs. L/n says, letting out a broken sob, and with a single sentence Max's whole world came crashing down around him with a choking sob and an anguishing scream.

———-

The warmth she felt was a kind of warmth that radiated from the sun and she also felt safe, which was kinda ironic since the last thing she could remember was her car spinning out of control just before crashing into the barrier before her whole world had gone pitch black and cold.

Opening her eyes Y/n noticed that she was lying in soft green grass looking around she noticed a group of people standing around a freshly dug grave. Confused, Y/n stood up brushing off the black dress pants she was wearing. Black pants that she didn’t remember putting on hell Y/n didn’t even remember how she got here in the cemetery.

The closer y/n got to the group of people she realized that these were her closest friends and family. Looking around she noticed Max who stood tall and composed, dressed in a black suit as he looked out over the funeral service. It was a beautiful ceremony, yet the grief weighed heavily in the palpable air.

As Y/n approached the group, no one seemed to notice her presence. They were all deeply immersed in the funeral service, their faces etched with grief and sadness. The air was heavy with a mix of sorrow and acceptance, a stark reminder of the reality they were facing.

Her parents were seated in the front row, silently weeping. Max stood nearby, his gaze fixed on the open grave where her coffin would soon be lowered.

Feeling out of place and utterly confused, Y/n tried to approach Max, hoping to get his attention. But as she neared him, her body passed directly through him, making her gasp in surprise.

Max didn't react, not even seeming to notice the feeling of her presence passing through him. It was a surreal and unsettling experience for Y/n, who couldn't make sense of what was happening.

a realization dawned on Y/n as she took in her surroundings, the people gathered at the funeral, and the grave that was awaiting her. She remembered the accident and the blackness that followed, the absence of any feeling or sensation.

"Am I...am I dead?" she asked aloud, her voice barely above a whisper.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, crashing down on her with the weight of finality. She wasn't just injured or in a coma; she had lost her life in the tragic accident.

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes, her chest feeling tight as the reality of her situation sank in. She had been so focused on her dreams and ambitions, so determined to become a Formula 1 driver, and now it was all over.

She looked at her parents, grief-stricken and tearful, and then at Max, a man who had become like a brother to her through their shared passion and friendship.

The weight of sadness and regret settled deeply in her heart as she watched Max standing there, stoically carrying on without her. As the ceremony continued, Y/n realized that she was nothing more than a specter, an observer of the event that marked her death. She was a ghost, unseen and unheard, a silent witness.

The realization was both heartbreaking and surreal. She had dreams, aspirations, and a future that had all been snatched away in a single instant.

At that moment, Y/n just wanted to reach out and touch Max, to tell him how much he meant to her and how much she would miss him.

But she knew it was futile. She was trapped in this ghostly state, unable to interact with the living world in any meaningful way.

All Y/n could do was watch from the sidelines as her friends and family said their final farewells, her heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and longing.

Soon the funeral came to an end and y/n watched as Max placed a single flower on top of the coffin.

“Vaarwel Zus,” Max says with a whisper.

As Max stepped back from the grave, the finality of the situation weighed heavily on him. Y/n saw the grief etched on his face, mingled with a sense of loss and acceptance.

"Vaarwel," Max whispered again, his voice filled with nostalgia and sadness.

Y/n watched as her mom approached Max, her voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. Tears streamed down her face, and she struggled to find the right words.

"Max," she said, her voice quivering, "Thank you for being there for my daughter. She always spoke so fondly of you. You were like family to her."

Max, his expression filled with a hint of sadness, placed a comforting hand on her mom's arm.

"Y/n was also family to me," he replied softly. "She was one of the strongest and most determined people I've ever known. I'm honored to have been her friend."

Y/n smiled faintly as she listened to their conversation. Despite the circumstances, it warmed her heart to know that Max cared deeply for her and that their bond extended beyond their shared passion for racing.

“Oh Max you should have been there" She got the call for pre-season testing in Barcelona. She was so excited I've never seen her so happy Y/n was excited to become your teammate” Mrs.L/n says

Max's eyes softened upon hearing those words. He remembered how Y/n had joked about them becoming teammates, and a pang of sadness hit him. That dream would never become a reality now.

"I remember," Max responded, his voice filled with nostalgia and regret. "She deserved that chance. Y/n had more talent and determination than anyone I knew."

Mrs.L/n nodded, tears still streaming down her face. "She looked up to you, you know."

Max looked down, guilt and sorrow filling his heart. "I should have been there to guide her, to support her. But it's too late now."

Mrs.L/n reached out to grasp Max's arm gently. "Don't blame yourself, Max. You were an excellent friend to her. Y/n was an amazing girl, but fate had other plans."

Max's eyes met Mrs.L/n's, and he saw a mixture of pain and acceptance. "I'll always feel like I could have done more. She was so young, with so much potential and ambition."

Mrs.L/n's voice trembled as she spoke again. "She had so many dreams. She wanted to make her mark in Formula 1."

"And she would have," Max said, his voice filled with conviction. "Y/n was born to race."

They stood there in silence, the weight of the loss hanging heavily. Max's mind was flooded with memories of Y/n - the laughter, the banter, the shared passion for racing. The emptiness she left behind felt immense.

The connection they had was unique, and now with Y/n gone, Max felt the absence more than ever. He could only hope that wherever she was, Y/n was surrounded by peace and happiness.

Mrs.L/n looked up at Max, gratitude filling her eyes. "You were like a brother to her, Max. Thank you for being there for her. Thank you for being a part of her life."

Max gently squeezed her arm, his voice cracking with emotion. "I was lucky to have her as a friend. Y/n was one of the best people I've ever known. She'll always be in my heart."

They stood there, two people connected by a profound loss, each silently honoring the memory of Y/n. The bond they shared, forged through their love for her, would endure with time.

Mrs.L/n hugged Max tightly, her body trembling with grief. "Please take care of yourself," she murmured. Max nodded, holding her close and providing comfort and unwavering support.

"I will," he assured her. "I'll make sure to honor Y/n's memory and continue living passionately. That's what she would have wanted."

They shared a moment of silent understanding before Mrs.L/n pulled back, her eyes still filled with tears. Max stepped back, watching as she walked towards the car with her husband and children, leaving him alone at the graveyard.

Y/n stood there with tears streaming down her face as she listened to her mom and friend talk about her. All she could do was smile sadly at the two of them as they had their conversation. She watched as her mom and Max had one last hug before parting ways.

“Goodbye, Mom I love you,” Y/n says, reaching out fingertips lightly brushing against her mom's arm causing her to falter in her steps looking over to where her daughter stood, seeing nothing she shook her head and kept walking the car.

Y/n turned to look at Max who stood firm in his position “Thank you Max for everything” she said reaching up to try to wipe away one of his tears.

Max was overwhelmed by a sense of comfort that washed over him as if it had hit him like a ton of bricks. Looking up and around, Max couldn't shake the feeling that Y/n's presence was with him. He was certain that she was right there with him.

“Thank you for everything Y/n” Max says, smiling a small smile.

“tot ziens broer” Y/n whispers before going into the light.

cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader

BEST FRIEND'S DAD!CLARK KENT who has to subtly give you a once over when Jon introduces you as his best friend from uni. Has to try not to smile as you stare at him dreamily. Who feels strangely satisfied when you manage to say “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Bf's dad, Clark, who tilts his head to the side just the slightest bit, and offers you his hand as if you weren't eye fucking him just now, “Pleasure's all mine, sweetheart.”

Bf’s dad, Clark, who always greets you with a big smile when you come over.

Bf’s dad Clark, who holds the car door open for you when he drops you off at your house late at night.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who’s so easy to talk to. Who listens carefully whenever you speak, always holding eye-contact. Who despite his size, is an absolute sweetheart. All wide eyes and dimples.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who the waiter mistakes for your boyfriend when taking your order, Jon conveniently timed to have been in the bathroom. Clark’s eyes widen comically, ears and cheekbones turning a lovely shade of red, as he waves his hands lowly, “Oh we’re not-” “So what’ll you have, honey?” your voice cuts him off, eyes still on the menu as you flip through it. When Clark doesn’t answer, you look up at him, raising your eyebrows and biting back a smile. 

You were enjoying this, he realized.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who can’t look at you in the eyes ever since. Who fidgets when you enter the room, making up any excuse to leave just to avoid thinking about you in that way. Because he does think about you. A lot. How couldn’t he? With your glitter covered eyes, lip gloss stained lips, and short skirts? He was a goner. He’d rather kick a wall than have to watch you reapply your lip gloss for the nth time. 

Bf’s dad Clark who has to pause his reading, glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose when you come over all giddy after a nail appointment, nails painted milky white, bows and other trinkets decorating them. Who has to hum and nod when you show them to him, acting as if he isn’t imagining your pretty hands around his cock. “Mm. Very pretty,” 

Bf’s dad, Clark, who has to watch you put cream on your legs while you’re all watching a movie. As if it's very common to do so in front of your best friend's dad. He thinks it shouldn’t be as erotic as it looked. Clark tries hard to keep his eyes glued on the tv and not stare at the way you sensually rub your hands up and down your thighs and calves.

Bf’s dad Clark who stiffens up, when Jon claims that “your legs are so sticky after though,” because how would his son know that?

Bf's dad Clark, who tosses and turns all night, trying to think back to all your past encounters, trying to pierce together how he missed the fact that you and Jon were dating. Because if you were, he was downright fucked.

Bf's dad Clark, who slowly starts getting mad at his son for not making it more obvious. For not kissing you whenever he saw you, not offering to drive you home, not treating you right. Clark who groans lowly and runs a hand down his face when he realizes that he's jealous of his own son.

Bf’s dad Clark who corners Jon the next morning, asking him all sorts of questions. “We’re obviously dating dad, I thought you knew..?”

Bf's dad, Clark who turns rigid, raising his voice at Jon for the first time in his life, still trying to be quiet for your sake, as you’re still sleeping upstairs. Whose fury isn't pointed to the fact that you and his son were dating, but more so to the fact that Jon didn’t pamper you enough. Didn’t give you any extra attention, didn’t spoil you like you deserved. And poor Jon has to hear his dad tell him to “Be a good boyfriend, I taught you better than that.”

Bf’s dad Clark, who gives his son a pointed look  when you finally come down to eat, yawning as you grab some cereal. Who has to watch his son turn and give you a quick peck on the lips, and then continue eating as if nothing happened. Has to watch you blink twice in surprise before shrugging and going back to your own food. 

Bf’s dad Clark who regrets telling his son to be more physical with you because he almost breaks a glass in his hands when he sees his son hugging you from behind one evening.

Bf's dad Clark, who clenches his jaw when you announce that you're going to leave and Jon jumps up to escort you, and walk you home. Clark who so badly wants to insist that he can take you home. That it's too cold out to walk, that a drive would be better. Clark who keeps his mouth shut instead.

Bf’s dad Clark who wants to curse Jon for inviting you over to their summer house. Clark who has to watch you walk around with your tiny bikini, skin still glistening when you get out of the pool. Clark who clenches his jaw tight and looks the other way when you offer to help Jon put some sunscreen on. 

Bf’s dad Clark who finds you in the kitchen that same night, swallowing hard as he watches you take a bite of a strawberry you were holding, claiming you were craving something sweet. 

Bf’s dad Clark who fucks you right against the counter you were leaning against, who has to hold his hand over your mouth as he circles his hips against you, his cock snug inside your tight cunt. Clark who melts when you give him an open-mouthed kiss, begging him to take you to bed. To his bed.

Bf’s dad Clark who can’t find himself worrying about the creaking of his bed when you’re riding him so well. Clark who hisses, and whose eyes roll back when you graze your nails against his pecs. Who has to fight the urge to bend you over and fuck you till you’re crying, has to remind himself that you’d definitely wouldn't be quiet then, when you’re barely keeping it together now. Clark who pulls you skin tight against him, who loves to feel your moans and whimpers against his lips.

Bf’s dad Clark, who wakes up the next day with you in his arms, swears he’d never slept so soundly in his life. Bf’s dad Clark who presses kisses all over your face, who later fucks you in the shower, and despite not wanting to ruin the moment, has to say something,

“Fuck, we can’t do this again. You’re dating my son, for God’s sake-”

“Clark. Jon is gay.”

oh.

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

kink-o-ween '24 - master-list

welcome to kink-o-ween 2024! this is the master-list for every fic that is being posted for this little event. it is on par with kinktober, but with my own bunny spin on it! this will be updated daily until the end of the month and will contain every kink-o-ween fic that it being posted!

please read the tags on the post before reading!

alexander albon - virginity

max verstappen & charles leclerc - threesome

lance stroll - toys

daniel riccicardo - cockwarming

logan sargeant - shower sex

charles leclerc - pet play

lando norris - lingerie

sergio perez - hate sex

fernando alonso - semi-public sex

oscar piastri - breeding kink

toto wolff - daddy kink

max verstappen - rivals

lewis hamilton - free use

lando norris - collars/leashes

logan sargeant - praise kink

max verstappen - dom/sub dynamics

alexander albon - wet dreams

carlos sainz jr. - roleplay

lando norris - size kink

lance stroll - brat

toto wolff - degradation kink

george russell - mirror sex

max verstappen - filming/recording

carlos sainz jr - slutty behavior

lando norris - mafia au

oscar piastri - temperature play

toto wolff - power dynamics

fernando alonso - alternate universe (ceo au)

daniel ricciardo - uniform kink

lewis hamilton - non penetrative sex

toto wolff - monsters au

thank you to the love and support of my fandom friends & fans of the blog. i hope that you love what i create and you have a happy halloween <3