#formulafanfics

The Monaco Grand Prix weekend had been as dramatic off the track as it was on. Lando Norris, the quick-witted and perpetually sassy Formula 1 driver, found himself sparring all season with his fiercest rival, Y/n . The two were infamous for their public squabbles, trading sharp words in interviews and pointed glares in the paddock.

That’s why, when Lando arrived at the hotel after a grueling day of practice sessions, the last thing he expected was to find y/n standing at the check-in desk looking equally annoyed.

“What are you doing here?” Lando asked, his British accent laced with mock horror.

“Checking in, obviously,” she snapped, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder.

The receptionist cleared their throat nervously. “I’m terribly sorry, but there’s been a mix-up. We’re fully booked, and… well, the only available room is a double that you’ll have to share.”

Y/n’s jaw dropped. “You must be joking.”

Lando smirked. “Oh, this is rich. Guess the universe loves irony.”

“I’d rather sleep in the pit lane than share with you,” she shot back, her brown eyes blazing.

“And I’d rather sleep on a bed of Pirelli tires, but here we are,” Lando retorted, tossing his bag on his shoulder.

After a lengthy standoff and some heated whispers, they reluctantly agreed to share the room—for one night.

The room was undeniably luxurious, but the centerpiece—a singular king-sized bed—made them both groan in unison.

“Great. Of course, there’s only one bed,” Lando said, flopping onto the mattress dramatically. “Looks like I win the bed lottery.”

Y/n crossed her arms. “Get up. I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

Lando propped himself up on his elbows, a mischievous grin on his face. “Well, I’m not sleeping on the couch either. So unless you’re planning to arm-wrestle me for it, I guess we’re sharing.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Fine. But stay on your side.”

“Darling, if I cross the invisible line, you have my full permission to smack me,” Lando quipped, winking.

By the time Y/m emerged from the bathroom in her tank top and shorts, Lando was sprawled on his side of the bed, scrolling through his phone with an exaggerated look of disinterest.

“Try not to snore,” he said without looking up.

“Try not to talk in your sleep,” she shot back, sliding under the covers.

“Why would I need to talk? You’d argue with me even in my dreams.”

“Good night, Lando,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Sweet dreams, darling,” he replied, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

The silence stretched as they lay in the dark, neither able to sleep.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Y/n finally said, breaking the stillness.

“Do you ever stop pretending you hate me?” Lando countered, turning to face her.

Y/n blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, smirking. “You’ve been mad at me since day one, but let’s be honest—you don’t hate me. You just hate that I’m better at banter.”

She let out a disbelieving laugh. “Better at banter? You think that’s what this is about?”

“Absolutely,” he said smugly. “And maybe because I look better in a race suit.”

Y/n sat up, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here we are. Sharing a bed. Life’s funny, isn’t it?”

The corner of her mouth twitched despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re gorgeous when you’re mad,” he said softly, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more sincere.

She froze, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. For the first time, the teasing melted away, leaving something raw and unspoken between them.

It started with a kiss—tentative, questioning—but it quickly spiraled into something far more consuming. Months of biting words and unspoken tension came to a head as they gave in to what they had both been too stubborn to admit.

Lando made you sit on his lap... You both were in lotus position... You were half naked at this point.. and he was just in his boxers..

He both were kissing each other like there is no Tommorow... His one hand on your ass.. pressing your clit and dick... You can feel his alredy hardening dick... It was hot.. I mean he was hot.. you were burning hot..

His another hand unclasped your bra... And than he teared your panty... "Lando what... Did you do? You said a bit annoyed still enjoying the moment and his hand massaging your breast..

"shh, just look at me baby". he removed his boxers and inserted his whole dick in to your pussy... You nearly gasped... "Lando... Argh.."

"put me off..it hurts"..

"its my thigh or nothing, I'm not helping you get off"

He said thursting in to you hard... He was pounding into you like his life deoends in it...

He puts you the bed a bit roughly and inserted into you again this time in missionary..

"do you need to use your safe word, darling?"

He said with a teasing smile on his face more

like smirking...

" yea it's fuck Lando" you said while sinking your nails on his bare back... enjoying the pleasure...

"its hot when you talk back" "but now you have to pay back" he said while pulling his dick from you just when you were about to come... " Lando no... Put it in again.. I need you so bad"

You said pleading for orgasm..he put it again and the whole show starts again... But its lando obviously he won't let you cum again...

"lando stop...just let me cum pls"

"Are you sure? You wanna cum?" He said still in a teasing tone... "Yea..." Even before you could complete the sentence he inserted you.. he started poundinh into you roughly... He was fast very fast.. you were a moaning mess by this time...

"argh... Lando it feels so good"

And finally you came.. but he won't left you so easily.. he licked you...from above to down...every part of you. From head to toe.. from breast to your clit.. like hungry man.. he licked your pussy... And cleaned your cum from his mouth...

And than.. he kissed you again.. this time it was soft and gentle...

Y/n traced lazy circles on Lando’s chest, her mind reeling. The biting arguments, the sharp jabs—they all seemed so distant now, replaced by something softer, something fragile and uncharted.

Lando’s hand slid along her back, his touch light and soothing. “You okay?” he asked softly, his usual sass replaced with genuine concern.

She looked up at him, surprised. “Yeah. I’m… I’m fine.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “You don’t sound convinced.”

Y/n rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “I just… I didn’t think this would ever happen. You and me. It feels… surreal.”

Lando propped himself up on an elbow, his expression serious for once. “Well, surreal or not, I’m glad it did. And I’m not about to let you overthink it.”

He slipped out of bed, grabbing one of the plush hotel robes hanging by the door. “Stay there,” he said, wagging a finger at her when she made a move to sit up.

“What are you doing?” she asked, amused.

“Taking care of you, obviously. Sit tight.”

She watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a warm, damp towel and a bottle of water.

Lando perched on the edge of the bed, gently brushing her hair back as he wiped her skin with the towel. His touch was tender, his usual teasing nature replaced with a quiet focus.

“You don’t have to do this,” Y/n murmured, her voice soft.

“I know,” he replied, grinning. “But I want to. Besides, if I don’t, you’ll probably hold it against me next time we’re on track.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” he quipped, handing her the water.

After making sure she was comfortable, Lando slipped back under the covers, pulling her close. His hand traced gentle patterns along her arm as she rested her head against his chest.

“Lando?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re… not what I expected.”

He smirked, his hand pausing. “Oh, don’t tell me I’ve ruined your image of me as an insufferable idiot.”

Y/n chuckled, nuzzling closer. “A little bit.”

“Good,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Guess I’ll just have to keep surprising you.”

The tension that had once defined them was gone, replaced by something new. It wasn’t perfect—neither of them were—but for the first time, it didn’t matter.

Lando’s voice was soft as he whispered into the quiet room, “Good night, Y/n”

She smiled against his chest, her fingers lacing with his. “Good night, Lando.”

The Formula 1 paddock was alive with its usual chaos—reporters swarming for interviews, engineers tweaking final adjustments, and fans craning for a glimpse of their favorite drivers. Among the flurry of activity stood Max Verstappen, the sport’s rising star. He had the world at his feet—chiseled good looks, record-breaking lap times, and a million-dollar smile that left fans weak in the knees.

But none of that mattered when Y/n was around.

Y/n was a freelance photographer, her sharp wit and even sharper lens earning her a reputation as one of the best in the business. She wasn’t like the others who swooned over Max. She teased him, challenged him, made him feel things he didn’t fully understand.

Their first encounter had been accidental. Y/n, too focused on capturing the perfect shot of the pit lane, hadn’t noticed Max approaching. They collided, her camera nearly crashing to the floor if not for his quick reflexes.

“Careful,” he said, steadying her. “You almost lost your shot.”

“Thanks to you,” she snapped, brushing herself off.

Max had smirked. “Maybe you should watch where you’re going next time.”

From that moment on, the tension between them was undeniable.

Their "friendship" grew as the season progressed. They spent countless hours together, whether it was during post-race celebrations or quiet evenings exploring the cities the circuit visited. Yet, they remained in denial, each too afraid to admit the feelings bubbling beneath the surface.

One evening in Monaco, after a long day at the track, they found themselves alone on the rooftop of their hotel. The city glittered below, the cool breeze carrying the scent of the sea.

Y/n shivered slightly, and Max, without hesitation, draped his jacket over her shoulders.

“You don’t have to take care of me, you know,” she said, her voice soft but teasing.

“Maybe I want to,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her lips.

For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. Their faces inched closer, breaths mingling, until—

“I should go,” y/n said abruptly, stepping back, her cheeks flushed.

“Yeah,” Max said, clearing his throat. “Just friends, right?”

“Just friends,” she echoed, though her heart thundered in her chest.

The façade of friendship grew thinner with each passing day. Every accidental brush of their hands, every lingering glance, every time Max’s arm found its way around her waist—it all felt too real.

Then came the night of the team dinner party. Y/n, dressed in a simple but stunning black dress, sat at the edge of the room with a plate of cake. Max couldn’t take his eyes off her as she took a bite, her tongue flicking out to catch a bit of frosting.

But when he saw a smudge of chocolate on her lips, something inside him snapped.

He crossed the room in a few long strides, kneeling in front of her.

“You’ve got…” He trailed off, brushing his thumb over her lips to wipe away the frosting.

Her breath hitched, her eyes locking with his.

“Max…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t pretend I don’t want you.”

Before she could reply, his lips captured hers. The kiss was slow at first, hesitant, but it quickly deepened, years of unspoken feelings pouring into that moment. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if she couldn’t bear to let him go.

When they finally broke apart, she was breathless, her cheeks flushed.

“I love you,” he said, his forehead resting against hers.

Tears welled in her eyes. “I love you too.”

They barely made it back to his hotel room before their lips crashed together again. Clothes fell to the floor in a trail leading to the bed.

Max’s hands roamed her body, mapping every curve, every soft inch of skin. His lips followed, leaving a blazing trail from her neck to her collarbone and further down.

Y/n gasped as his touch grew bolder, her body arching into his. She felt like she was on fire, every nerve ending alive under his care. Their movements were slow and deliberate, an exploration of everything they had denied themselves for so long.

“Y/n,” he whispered against her skin, his voice heavy with emotion. “You’re everything.”

She pulled him closer, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was as desperate as it was loving. They lost themselves in each other that night, their passion binding them in a way words never could.

Their relationship became the talk of the paddock, but neither cared. For the first time, Max felt truly alive, and Y/n had never been happier. Together, they were unstoppable, their love shining brighter than any podium finish.

But happiness has a cruel way of slipping through your fingers.

It started with bruises that wouldn’t heal and an exhaustion y/n couldn’t shake. A doctor’s visit confirmed the worst: leukemia.

She kept the diagnosis to herself at first, not wanting to burden Max. But as her symptoms worsened, she made the heartbreaking decision to push him away.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting shadows on the walls. Y/n sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of her loose sweater. She had rehearsed this moment countless times in her head, each scenario more painful than the last.

Max stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern. “You’ve barely said a word all evening,” he said softly, stepping closer. “What’s going on, Y/n?”

She looked up at him, her chest tightening at the sight of his face. His messy hair, his piercing ocean eyes, the way his lips tilted in that worried half-smile—all of it was too much. How was she supposed to walk away from the man she loved more than life itself?

“I think we should end this,” she said abruptly, her voice colder than she intended.

Max froze, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” she continued, avoiding his gaze. “It’s too much. The traveling, the pressure, being part of your world. I’m… I’m tired of it.”

“Y/n, stop.” His voice was firm, his jaw tightening. He stepped closer, kneeling in front of her so they were eye-level. “You don’t mean that. What’s really going on?”

Her heart cracked at the sight of him, so vulnerable and desperate. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see the tears welling in her eyes.

“I don’t love you anymore,” she lied, the words slicing through her like a knife.

Max flinched as though she’d slapped him. For a moment, he just stared at her, searching her face for some sign that this was a joke, a cruel prank.

“That’s not true,” he said finally, his voice trembling. “You don’t just stop loving someone, Y/n. I know you. I know us. You’re lying.”

“Max, please,” she begged, standing and turning away from him. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“No,” he said, his tone sharper now. He grabbed her hand, spinning her back around to face him. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to push me away without an explanation.”

She yanked her hand free, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m trying to protect you!” she shouted, her voice breaking.

“From what?” he demanded, his eyes blazing with frustration. “From you? From us?”

“From this!” she screamed, gesturing to herself. “I’m sick, Max! I have leukemia. I’m dying. I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

The room fell silent, her words hanging heavy in the air.

Max stared at her, his face pale, his chest heaving as he processed what she had just said.

“You… you’re sick?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She nodded, her legs giving out as she sank back onto the bed. “I didn’t want you to find out like this,” she said, her voice trembling. “I thought if I pushed you away, it would be easier for you when I’m gone.”

“Easier for me?” Max said, his voice rising in disbelief. He knelt in front of her again, gripping her hands tightly. “Do you think losing you could ever be easy? Do you think I’d ever be okay knowing I let you face this alone?”

She shook her head, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I didn’t want you to see me like this, Max. Weak and—”

“You’re not weak,” he interrupted, his voice breaking. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. And I love you, Y/n. I love you so much it hurts. Don’t you get that?”

She sobbed, her hands clutching his as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. “I didn’t want to ruin your life,” she choked out.

“You are my life,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t you see? You’re everything to me. And if we only have weeks, months, whatever time we’ve got—I want to spend it with you. Every single second.”

She broke then, collapsing into his arms as her sobs wracked her body. He held her tightly, his own tears streaming down his face as he whispered into her hair.

“We’ll fight this,” he said softly. “Together. I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. Not now, not ever.”

And for the first time since her diagnosis, Y/n allowed herself to believe she wasn’t alone.

Max became her anchor. He was there for every treatment, every bad day, every moment she wanted to give up. They made the most of their time together—dancing in empty hotel rooms, sharing whispered confessions, and making love as if it might be their last chance.

But as the months passed, y/n grew weaker. They have to move her in hospital.

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the machines monitoring her fragile heartbeat. The curtains were drawn, letting in only a sliver of golden sunlight that stretched across the bed where Y/n lay. She was frail, her once-vibrant presence now reduced to a fragile figure with pale skin and sunken cheeks.

Max sat by her side, his fingers intertwined with hers, though her grip was weak. His thumb stroked her knuckles, desperate to memorize the feeling of her skin, the warmth that was fading with each passing moment.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she turned her head slowly to look at him. Even now, her eyes—those beautiful eyes—still held a faint glimmer of the woman he loved so fiercely.

“Max…” Her voice was barely a whisper, so soft he had to lean closer to hear her.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. “I’m not going anywhere.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips. “You’re always here… my stubborn Max.”

“And I always will be,” he replied, his voice cracking just slightly. He pressed a kiss to her hand, lingering as if that small act could keep her with him a little longer.

She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her strength before speaking again. “You’ve… given me so much,” she murmured. “More than I ever thought I’d have. I got to love you… and be loved by you. That’s more than enough.”

“Don’t say that,” Max said, shaking his head. His jaw tightened as tears threatened to spill. “It’s not enough, Y/n. I want more time with you. I want everything with you.”

She squeezed his hand weakly, her smile bittersweet. “Time isn’t what matters, Max. It’s how we spent it.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “And I wouldn’t trade a single second of it.”

His breath hitched as he fought against the pain clawing at his chest. “I can’t do this without you,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how to go on, y/n. You’re my whole world.”

She blinked up at him, tears slipping down her cheeks. “You’ll go on because you have to,” she said softly. “Because you’re Max Verstappen. You’re strong, even when you don’t feel it. And because… you’ll carry me with you. Always.”

He bent his head, his shoulders shaking as silent sobs wracked his body. She reached up with trembling fingers, brushing them through his hair, as if comforting him gave her strength.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice so faint it was almost lost. “I’ll love you… forever.”

Max lifted his head, his face streaked with tears. “And I’ll love you forever,” he said, his voice hoarse. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “You’re my everything, Y/n. Always.”

Her breathing grew shallower, her chest rising and falling with effort. She closed her eyes, a peaceful expression settling over her face.

“Don’t… forget me,” she whispered, her lips barely moving.

“Never,” he promised, his voice trembling. “You’ll always be with me. In everything I do.”

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye as her breathing slowed. Her fingers slackened in his, her body finally succumbing to the battle she had fought so bravely.

Max sat there, his forehead still pressed to hers, his tears falling freely as he held her close.

“I’ll never let you go,” he whispered through his sobs.

And in that quiet room, with the world outside oblivious to the devastating loss, Max stayed with her, holding her until her warmth faded, and she became a memory—one he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

The room was eerily quiet when Max woke, his chest heaving and his heart racing as if he’d just run a marathon. His shirt clung to his damp skin, soaked with cold sweat. His eyes darted around, wild and unfocused, his mind desperately trying to separate reality from the vivid nightmare that had just consumed him.

Y/n was gone. The leukemia, the heartbreak, her final breath—all of it played in his head like a cruel, unrelenting movie.

He sat up abruptly, gasping for air. His trembling hands gripped the sheets, the faint echoes of her weak voice in his dream still ringing in his ears. He could still feel the crushing weight of her loss, the pain that had shattered him in that unreal world.

“Max!”

Her voice came from the kitchen. Bright. Alive.

He froze. For a moment, he thought he was still dreaming, that his mind was playing tricks on him. But then the familiar clatter of a pan hitting the counter jolted him into action.

“Max! Wake up! The pancakes are ready!”

He threw the covers off and stumbled out of bed, his legs weak beneath him. His breath hitched as he rounded the corner into the kitchen and saw her—Y/n.

She stood by the stove in one of his oversized t-shirts, her hair slightly messy, a spatula in hand as she flipped a pancake with practiced ease. The smell of butter and syrup filled the air, but all Max could focus on was her.

Alive. Healthy. Smiling.

“Finally!” she said, turning to look at him with a playful roll of her eyes. “You sleep like the dead. I was about to—”

Before she could finish, Max crossed the room in two long strides, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent, his arms tightening around her as if she might vanish if he let go.

Y/n froze for a moment, startled by the sudden embrace. “Max? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The lump in his throat was too big, and tears were already streaming down his cheeks.

“Hey…” she said softly, setting the spatula down. She turned in his arms, her brows knitting together in concern as she cupped his face. “Max, you’re crying. What’s going on? Did something happen?”

He shook his head, his hands trembling as they held onto her. “It’s nothing,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Just… a nightmare.”

Her eyes softened, and she gently wiped a tear from his cheek. “It must’ve been a bad one,” she said, her tone tender. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Max shook his head again, swallowing hard. “No. I… I just needed to hold you.”

Her expression melted into one of pure love as she pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I’m right here,” she murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Those words—so simple, yet so powerful—undid him completely. He held her tighter, his body trembling with silent sobs.

For a while, they stood like that, the pancakes forgotten as y/n ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him without knowing the full extent of the nightmare he’d endured.

Eventually, Max pulled back, his eyes red and puffy but filled with gratitude. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

“I love you,” he said, his voice raw but full of conviction.

“I love you too,” she replied, smiling softly.

He leaned down and kissed her—slow, lingering, and filled with all the love and relief he felt.

In that moment, Max made a silent vow to himself: he would cherish every single second with her, no matter what life threw their way.

Menu

Coffee (tropes)

Americano - Office romance

Cappuccino - Holiday romance

Latte - Grumpy sunshine

Macchiato - Trapped together

Mocha - Enemies to lover(rivals)

White Mocha - Married

Frappe (tropes)

Java Chip - Forced Proximity

Hazelnut Mocha - Only One bed

Macchiato - Playboy in love

Dark Mocha - dating

Mint chocolate - hook up

"You can choose only 1 trope"

Extras

Whipped cream - Sweet sex

Shot of espresso - Rough sex

"You can choose only 1"

Milk

Almond milk - vaginal Sex

Soy milk - Oral sex

Coconut milk - Anal sex

Oat milk - Fingering

Whole milk - Hand job

Skim milk - Dry Humping

Non dairy milk - Mastrubation

Raw milk - Mutual Mastrubation

Goat milk - Penetrative sex

Hemp milk - squirting

"You can choose more than 1"

Breakfast/Appetizers

Eggs Benedict - Age play (Daddy/Mommy)

Avacado toast - Public sex

Omelette - Blind Fold

Waffles - Humiliation

Bruschetta - Edging

Spinach and artichoke Dip - Doggy style

Garlic shrimp - Lactation

Caprese skewers - Breeding kink

Meat balls - Body worship

Cheese sticks - Praise kink

French toast - Spanking

Spaghetti - Hand cuffs

Hot dog - Size kink

Mushroom Burger - Pain kink

Fish and Chips - Hickeys

"You can choose more than 1"

Main Course

Chicken Piccata - “Do I look like I’m messing around? Do I look like I won’t punish you?”

Vegetable Curry - “Move an inch and you won’t be coming tonight.”

Grilled salmon - “Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.”

Beef tenderloin - “I won’t apologise for marking you up, everyone should know you’re taken.”

Beef stoganoff - “You can take it, you’ve done it before.”

Mushroom Risotto - “We’re really going to fuck here? What if someone sees us?”

Chicken Parmesan - “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Baked Crab cheese - “You look so good with my hands around your neck.”

Crispy squid - “Do you think, you deserve a reward/punishment?”

Cheese shrimp roll - “I don’t care if it takes all night, you will submit.”

Minced beef Mushroom - “Show me how much you missed me.”

Beef cheese rolling - “Enough, please, I can’t take anymore!”

Beef diced potatoes - “Do you need to use your safeword, darling?”

Butter fried chicken - “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

Sirloin steak - “Do you know what happens when you misbehave?”

Grilled Pizza - “Are you holding back? Don’t.”

Lasagna - “Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.”

Habenaro BBQ shrimp - “It’s my thigh or nothing, I’m not helping you get off.”

Fish tacos - “You seem more sensitive than usual.”

Tomato roasted garlic pie - “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.”

Pork chops - “So good for me, look at how much you came.”

Potato gnocchi - “Shh, just look at me, baby.”

Chicken nachos - “God, you love it like this, don’t you?”

Honey garlic chicken - “You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.”

Lemon chicken pasta - “Do you wonder what it is that makes me scream?”

BBQ chicken salad - “Why are you being so gentle with me? I like it when you’re rough.”

Ham carbonara - “It’s hot when you talk back”

Mini meat loafs - “You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?”

"You can choose more than 1"

Water

Sparkling water - after care

Mineral water - cuddles

Bottled water - soaking in bathtub