#a very handsome leading man
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mondonguita · 1 year ago
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Fernando Lamas in Vidalita (1949) de Luis Saslavsky
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fightwing · 1 year ago
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the implication some version of animated teen tita.ns vaguely like ttg exists in comic canon.... i desperately need to know who in dick's life is a die hard show fan and how many times he rants he's 'not like that'
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ahollowgrave · 24 days ago
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most of viatrix's D&D background came from an... acoustic folk version of Cotton Eye Joe... this no longer works for her FFXIV lore, I will have to find another song.
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designernishiki · 2 years ago
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I think I’ve said this before on here but. it really baffles and somewhat annoys me sometimes how people hear that a character is in their 40s-50s and immediately assume they should be weak or feeble or less attractive than they are. like. no. i think everyones just been brainwashed to think that attractiveness/health/worth is determined by how young someone is. why is it more understandable to view a teenager as more attractive and capable than a fit 40-50-something year old. kinda wack
#don’t get me wrong this isn’t to say that older characters shouldn’t show signs of aging#like obviously they should- though also keeping in mind here that people show aging vastly differently and throughdifferent lengths of time#ie; some people go grey in their 30s. some don’t go grey at all#and as for physical ability it just depends on a person’s routines and the life they’ve lead up to that point– a guy who’s been slumped over#a desk in a cubicle for 30 years isn’t gonna be as likely to maintain muscle as a lumberjack or a personal trainer#obviously I’m talking about ykz characters in this post and specifically kiryu/majima. mostly kiryu though really cause it’s more bizarre to#me to point him out as being Elderly and unrealistically fit and handsome for his age#like. becuase hes not even that old. he’s 54 currently and I see people saying stuff about him like this throughout the time he’s been in#his 40s to early 50s– like dude do you know that like. most of the famous actors you see in live action films are in their 40s-50s. this#isn’t the 1950s man. you can be 40 50 60 and look Not Elderly and have an active life. that’s the magic of modern medicine and technological#advancements. crazy I know#sorry ranting here I just always get so thrown off by this#admittedly I think it makes me feel weird when exaggerate their ages so much partly cause my own parents are smack in the middle#of kiryu/majima’s canon ages (1966) so I see like. literally every day what a person in their mid-50s is Like. and it’s not at all like the#weird feeble characature so many younger people in this fanbase have for them#I couldn’t view my mother- as she is right now (56)- as ‘elderly’ if I fuckin tried dude#and she’s not half as physically fit and active in her lifestyle as someone like fuckin kiryu or majima so. yeah#(she is still quite active but less in a Working Out sorta way and more in a gardening and yard work and goes to burning man sorta way)#(she’s a psychologist though so her job isn’t very physically active is my point- as opposed to someone who’s job is#physically active. you get it)#anyway sorry I need to stop talking vsncjdnd#rambling#yakuza#rgg
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mv1simp · 4 months ago
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Cuffing Szn ♥️
Max Verstappen x MidSize!Reader
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it's cuffing season and all the girls are leaving to get a big boy (I need a big boy, give me a big boy)
As Max Verstappen's new girlfriend, you're one of the few WAGs on the grid who isn't a model and the only one, you think self consciously, who doesn't look like a model either. Good thing your big, strong boyfriend is here to set the record straight about how much he disagrees with you.
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, trigger warning: explicit discussion about eating disorder and body dysmorphia, dom!max, sub!reader, size kink, this is just a shameless excuse for me to write smut about max's thighs, 3.3k WC
When you'd delivered one of your favourite patient's 3rd baby, handing over the healthy, crying pale blob (after thoroughly wiping it down because, you know) with a congratulations, Victoria, its a boy! you hadn't expected to catch the eye of the patient's very attractive, tall older brother at her side.
But as you walked off down the hallway once the baby checks were done, you were surprised to find Max stopping you with a large but gentle hand on your shoulder. You'd seen him a couple of times in Victoria's pregnancy, accompanying her and her husband at the ultrasound checks leading upto the delivery. You'd secretly thought he was so adorable with the way he handled his nieces and nephews patiently while his sister got scanned.
You'd also thought he looked positively delectable in his white linen shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders, and skinny jeans that clung to some of the thickest thighs you'd seen a man be blessed with. But making bedroom eyes at patient's hot family members was generally frowned upon (although not explicitly prohibited in the Hippocratic Oath, one could argue) so you promptly forgot about the handsome blonde 5 minutes later when the emergency bell went off.
But he stood before you that day, looking every bit as attractive as you remembered, even more so with a pink dusting on his cheeks as he asked if this was the last time you'd be looking after Victoria?
You tilted your head quizzically at him, your neck a little strained from looking up at his 6 foot frame from your 5"1 one. Yes it is, you informed him, and because new families often got anxious, you sweetly added that it was a good thing, to not see you again, because it meant darling Victoria and her baby are both healthy.
He confuses you again by saying that he was hoping to see you again. Oh! You smile excitedly, are you and your wife expecting? You pull out your clinic card and tell him that you're actually all booked out for the year but you'll make an exception for Victoria's brother.
His blush deepens. (Somewhere in a hospital broom cupboard, Lando Norris was filming this scene unfold and cackling.) Max rapidly explained that he's not expecting. Oh, and he's not married. And also he doesn't have a girlfriend. Basically, I'm single - he finally stammers out. (Rizzless and bitchless, Lando texts him). Thankfully, at this point you had caught on that Max was trying to ask you out, and after a quick phone call to the legal team to confirm you were clear, you turn back around to inform him cheekily that he could pick you up at 8pm Friday night for dinner. (Wait, this actually worked? a flabbergasted Lando now texts.) The emergency pager then goes off so you gently tug on Max's shirt to hint that you want him to bring his face down, give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek, and sprint off to Ward 6.
The dinner goes perfectly, with Max's charm returning in full force after a G&T - Sorry about earlier, schat, you're such a gorgeous woman and a very smart doctor, it makes me nervous - leading to a 2nd date and then a 3rd and then to a weekend trip in a romantic Nice winery, where you can't resist jumping into his muscly arms after a glass of wine and demanding he have his way with you. (He does. Very thoroughly. Multiple times that night, and the morning after. Thinking about it still has you blushing.)
6 months later, you two are officially going out and you're making your first appearance as his girlfriend at the races. You had carefully dressed in a classy Mirror Palais dress, complete with matching heels to save your poor boyfriend having to bend down too much. You'd also become rather turned on at seeing your normally soft, gentle cat dad of a boyfriend turn into an absolute menace once the Redbull suit is zipped up, terrorising his way all the way to P1 and living up to his nickname of the Dutch lion. As his assistant guides you to the podium ceremony, you're stopped by various fans who compliment your outfit and ask for pictures. The media attention is very new to you, as Max had been very insistent on protecting your privacy as you two established yourselves as a couple. But everyone had been so nice today - until you started noticing the dirty looks thrown your way, glaring up and down your form. And then, a couple of snide comments from passing fans about how you were very confident to wear such a body hugging dress, especially with your curvy figure.
You roll your eyes at their clearly jealous tones, and walk over to the podium ceremony to greet your boyfriend. He breaks into an adorable grin when he sees you, his whole face lighting up as he easily scoops you up for a deep kiss. The cameras around you two go crazy, but don't pick up his whispers when he sets you down and leans in, telling you that you looked so pretty today, schat, he'd been staring at you so much GP had to tell him to focus, and how was your first race? nobody gave you a hard time, did they? You don't miss the way his eyes are attentively focused on your face, clearly still worried about the damage he had warned you about before you agreed to go public.
You aren't going to spoil his win over a couple of snide comments. Not at all, baby you reassure, before whispering back that he looked really hot in his tight fireproofs, could he pretty please bring them home later when you give him his reward for such a good performance on the track? The tip of Max's ears go pink as he struggles to maintain a straight face for the cameras. Giggling, you press a kiss to his cheek and murmur you'll see him after his interviews.
Later though, when Max is in his interview across the paddock and you're being introduced to the other WAGs, you can't help but notice how different they all look in their body hugging dresses compared to you. Although you wouldn't be called fat, you aren't slim either, and you're nowhere near the tiny, trim figures the other girls maintain. Once the seed of insecurity is planted, it's very hard to stop it growing out of control - and at each race or public event or launch party you attend at Max's side, you start to pick apart more and more insecurities about yourself. How you're so much shorter than the numerous models on the grid, making you feel childish and round compared to their lithe gracefulness. How their delicate collarbones and ribs can clearly be seen at all times, but yours only if you twisted your neck a certain way. And they're all so lovely, chatting eagerly with you and interested to hear about your work, asking if you'd take so-and-so on as a patient, you had a great reputation already even though you were a new doctor in Monaco! The conversations distract you from your worries for a bit.
But afterwards, when you'd be laughing at cat memes online and sending them to your boyfriend, you'd come across the paparazzi pics of you speaking to the WAGs and felt sick to your stomach at how huge you thought you looked compared to everyone else, clearly standing out as the plainest one amongst their flawless faces. Some of the comments agreed, saying that it was just sad that the best driver on the grid had the ugliest girlfriend, and couldn't Max buy his gf some ozempic with all his tax evasion money? Comments that would have made you laugh at the originality now suddenly had you sobbing, and you're glad you hadn't stayed at Max's tonight and had to explain the state you were in.
When you'd been younger, in college, you'd started struggling with managing your stress levels given you were a perfectionist working towards a very difficult medical degree. Having always been a stress eater, you frequently binged on junk food, and obviously ended up gaining quite a bit of weight. Your family and ex boyfriend had ridiculed you endlessly, and so the year after you had to work hard and lose it all, which you had managed to do. You'd mentioned this to Max in passing, a couple months into dating when he'd spotted an old college picture of you and muttered so fucking cute, pocketing it.
You didn't tell Max about how you'd lost the weight though - with a vicious binging and purging cycle for the better chunk of a year. You'd grown out of that "phase" once you'd left college, or so you thought - because it was almost too easy to slip back into it now, to enjoy the sick pleasure at barely eating all day and seeing the weight drop on the scale, then bingeing on whatever you wanted because it didn't count, you'd throw it up anyways. You had to be very careful with it this time round, because your boyfriend's attentive gaze had been fixed on you even more so than usual - noting how you've been wearing higher heels, how your dresses are still as gorgeous as ever but never body hugging anymore, how you spend hours before a race now perfecting your makeup instead of joining him in the garage and don't spend the nights at his anymore. You weasel your way out of his questions when he asks you repeatedly if everything was okay, schat?
But you weren't able to fool him any longer after attending a charity gala for one of his sponsors. You'd actually been happy with your appearance for once, pleased with your slimmer waist this month, but as the night went on you started to feel the fatigue of starving yourself catching up, leaning more and more into Max's side as he glanced at you with concern. Rubbing your back soothingly, he asked if you wanted to leave early, but you shook your head, murmuring you were okay, your feet just hurt a little is all. He frowned then, hating to see you in pain just to be dressed up for some stupid event he couldn't care less about. Bringing you to the empty lobby, he told you he was going to grab your coats and have the car brought round, end of discussion, you need to rest, okay liefje? You didn't have it in you to protest any longer so just nodded. You hadn't realised just how much you'd been leaning on him until he left, and as stars started entering your vision, Max returned just in time to catch you before you stumbled.
You felt him firmly grab your waist, fully supporting your weight as he led you out to the car, lowering you gently into the seat and even buckling you in. You started feeling a bit better inside his Aston Martin with the aircon on, nibbling on a high protein low calorie bar you'd stashed in your clutch. Regaining your alertness, you notice the tense atmosphere, with a stormy expression on Max's face as he drove rather furiously through the Monaco streets, his hand not even resting on your thigh like it usually did but gripping the wheel tightly. Maxie - you begin uncertainly, hoping to diffuse the tension and ask why he was upset, but he cuts you off with a terse Don't. Let's wait till we're home.
So you wait, until you're both walking in through the front door. Max rips off his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves, but he still doesn't talk and instead heads to the kitchen. You follow him, sitting on a barstool to admire how he still looked so handsome in the fitted sky blue shirt and tight navy pants, even when he was clearly mad. As Max starts cooking, his back to you, he tells you about how growing up his sister Victoria had to go to therapy for a long time because she wouldn't stop throwing up every time she ate because their father told her she was too fat (despite looking like a buffalo himself, Max snorts as he sets down a simple but delicious plate of chicken pesto pasta with salad in front of you), about how Max has seen countless girlfriends on the paddock purposely avoid eating all day, including his already stick thin model exes, and how Max himself would be called fat every month or the other by some trashy gossip magazine, because the media is just fucking toxic, he hisses. This is why I wanted to keep us hidden away from the cameras. He glances pointedly at your plate, where you've eaten the salad and chicken and not touched your pasta. You sigh and pick up your fork, slowly working your way through the food as you tell him that you suppose your diet had somewhat...spiralled out of control, but honestly, Max, I'm completely fine, and you two can't avoid the cameras forever given how he's the frickin F1 winner at all-
Don't tell me that you're fine. Do you really think I don't know what's going on? Max demands tersely with crossed arms. Finally finished with your meal, you hop off the stool to neatly place your plate in the sink, ignoring his question. Standing behind you, he watches you wash the dishes, still not even reaching his chin, even in those damn 6 inch heels you're still wearing. You do respond when he asks you just why you're putting your body through such torture.
C'mon, Max you say with an eyeroll, You know why, I need to lose some weight, I'm so much heavier compared to all the other girls and all your exes, and you deserve to have a girlfriend who looks-
Don't tell me what I do or don't deserve, schat. I always want the best and that's why I picked you. You're really gonna question the choice of a world champion, hmm? Max's deep voice is now right by your ears as he leans down behind you. You feel a shiver run up the back on your spine as he curls his huge arms possessively around your waist and thighs. He continues his whispers, his hands roaming up to your plush tits and another squeezing your ass, telling you You're so goddamn pretty. Every single part of you, just for me, making you bite your lip and breathily moan from his affections - it'd been a while since he'd had his way with you with all your avoidance, after all.
You feel him slowly unzip your dress, and the silk easily falls to the ground, leaving you only in your stiletto heels and a deep red lingerie set he’d gifted you for your 3 month anniversary. You tense, already feeling self conscious, but before you can say anything Max has wrapped a large hand around your waist and easily flipped you around to sit on the kitchen counter. You gasp from the action, hands automatically going to rest on his broad shoulders as your face comes level with his.
I haven’t made it clear just how lucky I am to have such a beautiful girl all to myself, schat, Max says huskily, before pulling away to unbutton his shirt, his blue eyes darkening as they roam over your pretty tits spilling over in the lacey bra, over your cute plush tummy, and over those deliciously soft thighs he adores. His hungry stare is really starting to drive you wild now, and you beg at him to hurry up and finish undressing. Chuckling, he throws his pants to the side as well, now only wearing his tight boxers. He pulls you forward on the counter so you're flush against him. See what you do to me, sweet girl? Hmm? he grinds the very prominent bulge in his boxers against your own damp core, making you gasp. You get me so hard and you haven't even touched me yet, that's the kind of power you have over me.
At his words, you don’t hold back from running your hand all along Max’s well defined chest. Your boyfriend is so much bigger than you and it's incredibly sexy. He towers over you easily with his 6 foot frame, all wide shoulders and swollen biceps and muscled thighs, and you don't hide the hypnotised look in your eyes as you trace from his thick neck down to his slutty waist, desire and desperation coursing through you, replacing any inhibitions you'd had earlier.
He grasps one of your wandering hands in his own, his larger palm easily dwarfing your tiny one and making you bite your lip at the difference in size. His attentive gaze doesn't miss this either, and with a low hmm he brazenly asks if you found it as hot as he did, the fact that you were the perfect size for him to snap into half if he wanted? He knows he's got you right where he wants as your pupils go wide with desire, breath hitching at the thought of your big boyfriend using his strength against you for once.
Then he's pulling apart your pretty little set, lace ripping and a large hand easily wraps around your entire throat, pulling you into a breathless kiss that has you moaning at his skilled tongue. You barely have time to collect yourself when he suddenly lifts you up by the waist, biceps flexing, and your eyes widen as you're lifted impossibly high in the air and find yourself straddling his thick shoulders, his face now at the perfect height to bury his tongue into your dripping pussy right in front of him. Max! you squeal, utterly ruined by his impressive display of strength. You're desperately scrambling for purchase at the cabinets behind you, head banging back against the wall as he relentlessly thrusts his wicked tongue into your puffy folds.
And he only sets you down after you cum obediently all over greedy lips like he demands you to do, then gently carries your shaky form to the bedroom to show you multiple more examples of how you were just made to take him, truly the perfect girl for him, weren't you? You'd been too blissfully fucked out by that point to form a coherent response.
Needless to say, you find yourself caring very little next time strangers had anything to say about the way you looked, thanks to Max's hands on affections (he'd also taken you to therapy like the supportive boyfriend he was, bless him.) He'd quickly formed a personal favourite method to prove to you just how desperate he was for you and how you had the world champion in the palm of your hand, whenever he saw that look flicker into your eyes from time to time. He'd take you back home, make you undress yourself for his hungry gaze, then lift you up into his arms, folding your thighs up against your waist from where he held them. You’d moan as he slid into you, bouncing your whole body onto his hard cock like you were a ragdoll, making you scream his name endlessly as he fucked you mid-air.
And sometimes, when he was feeling particularly possessive, he'd flip you around, pressing your back to his toned chest, as he made you watch with him in the mirror how he obscenely slid in and out of your dripping pussy. Whispering in your ear that see, like he had told you, he had such good taste, don't I, schat? And as you met his heated gaze through the reflective surface, clenching around him when you saw the pure love and raw desire in his eyes, you couldn't help but agree.
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A/N: guys can you guess I have a thing for boys who are big. Big boys, if you will. Someone just let me sit on Max’s lap goddamn 💸💸 as always lmk what you think and if u have any requests!!
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little-diable · 6 months ago
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Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)
I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff
Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)
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Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 
It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 
“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.
“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.
“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 
“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 
On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 
His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 
Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 
“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 
“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 
“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.
The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 
“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.
“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”
Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 
If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 
“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 
“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 
“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.
“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 
“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 
“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.
Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 
“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 
“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.
“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 
“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.
Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 
Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 
“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 
“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 
“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 
“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 
Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 
“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 
“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 
Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 
“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 
“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 
He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 
(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 
“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.
And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 
Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.
“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 
“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”
4K notes · View notes
harrysfolklore · 6 months ago
Note
could you please do an insta blurb with vivian hoorn?💕
cats & dogs - mv1
summary: every couple on the grid is getting dogs which leads to max’s girlfriend wanting one. the problem? he’s a cat dad and a cat dad only
folkie radio: with al the cat dad max talk and all the dogs on the grid this blurb came naturally ! i really hope you like it 💓
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by lilyhme, maxverstappen1 and 137,258 others
yourinstagram barcelona: lots of wine, baby winning but who’s surprised and the new love of my life, leo leclerc
tagged: maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux
view all 2,347 comments
username1 PRETTIEST GIRL
username2 dududu max verstappen play the dutch national anthem
francisca.cgomes Prettiest 😍
↳ yourinstagram have you seen yourself in the mirror?
charles_leclerc My son ❤️
↳ yourinstagram alexandra is def a single mother bc that beauty doesn’t come from you
↳ alexandrasaintmleux Exactly 🤩
↳ username1 LOVE THEM
username3 “but who’s surprised” 😭
username4 jimmy and sassy are jealous right now
scuderiaferrari We all love Leo Leclerc ❤️
↳ redbullracing Ariana what are you doing here?
↳ username2 THAT ADMINS ARE ON CRACK HELP
danielricciardo Be ready for your girl to beg for a puppy @/maxverstappen1
↳ username2 HEEEELP
maxverstappen1 New love of my life?
↳ yourinstagram im sorry baby he has charmed me now i need a dog
↳ maxverstappen1 Jimmy and Sassy (our kids) are patiently waiting for us at home thank you
↳ username4 MAX VERSTAPPEN GET YOUR GF A DOG
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liked by danielricciardo, yourinstagram and 733,625 others
maxverstappen1 Triple header done ✅ Time to rest and get ready for the last races of the season before the summer #KeepPushing
view all 6,378 comments
username1 CHAMPPPPP
username2 he’s so pretty istg
landonorris The friendship made it out of the triple header after all
↳ username2 LANDO PLASE 😭😭
danielricciardo Can you take me with you to St. Tropez?
↳ yourinstagram NO
↳ username3 yn must be tired of daniel always thirdwheeling
yourinstagram pretty boy. a champion. the goat. the world champion forever. most handsome man to grace this earth. the best to ever do it
↳ maxverstappen1 Flattery will get you nowhere
↳ yourinstagram I JUST WANT A PUPPY 😩
↳ username4 his cat person ass will never poor yn
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, maxverstappen1 and 188,254 others
yourinstagram our happy place forever 🫶 expect a very sunburnt maxie for the next gp
view all 2,511 comments
username1 they own saint tropez
username2 BOYFRIEND MAXXXXX
lilyhme stunning 😍😍
username3 IS THAT JIMMY OR SASSY IN THE LAST PIC ??? AND MAX’S SHIRT I CANT
↳ username1 cat dad forever
alex_albon Team cats rule
↳ yourinstagram don’t do this i’m trying to convince him to get me a dog
↳ danielricciardo And I don’t think that’s working
↳ yourinstagram STFU 😭😭
username4 yn is stunning can max fight ??
↳ yourinstagram he can’t
maxverstappen1 1. I can fight
2. You’re the most beautiful girl ever
3. Why would you want a dog when we have Jimmy looking that adorable
↳ yourinstagram 1. you can’t 2. ilysm 3. JUST GET ME A DOG
↳ landonorris 1. i can confirm he can’t 2. you’re disgustingly cute 3. max don’t be a bitch get her a dog
↳ yourinstagram THANK YOU LANDINHO
↳ maxverstappen1 Nope
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liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,022,735 others
maxverstappen1 My 🤍
view all 10,635 comments
username1 AWE
username2 SIMP MAX MY HEART
redbullracing We love love ❤️
↳ yourinstagram ily too redbull admin
username3 max verstappen three time world champion uses instagram as a fanpage for his girlfriend
↳ username1 as he should
landonorris SIMP
↳ maxverstappen1 Don’t be jealous Lando
↳ yourinstagram you’ll never have him 😤
danielricciardo How’s the dog searching going?
↳ yourinstagram your bff is being such a bad boyfriend right now
↳ maxverstappen1 I’m never a bad boyfriend :(
↳ yourinstagram get me a dog and you’ll be the best boyfriend ever
↳ username2 THIS IS SO 😭😭 just get yn a dog
yourinstagram love youuuu cat dad soon to be dog dad
↳ maxverstappen1 Never
↳ yourinstagram MAXIE PLEASE 😭😭
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liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and 196,536 others
yourinstagram he could be boyfriend of the year but he refuses to get me a dog
tagged: maxverstappen1
view all 2,399 comments
username1 HEEEELP
username2 max verstappen the cat dad that you are
alex_albon 😂😂😂 Cat dads unite
username3 MAX LOOKS SO PRETTY I CANTTTT
victoriaverstappen I’m going to have a serious chat with him
↳ yourinstagram please do but bring the kids with you bc i miss them 🥲
charles_leclerc I hope Alex thinks I’m boyfriend of the year then
↳ alexandrasaintmleux Maybe 🥰
↳ yourinstagram ugh
username4 justice for jimmy and sassy
↳ yourinstagram they’re my kids and i love them i just want them to have a dog sibling
danielricciardo You boyfriend is a die hard cat person I don’t think that’s happening.
↳ yourinstagram did i ask? mind your business
↳ username1 HEEELP 😭
maxverstappen1 I could get you ten new cats if you wanted
↳ yourinstagram but i want a DOG
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liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and 1,026,337 others
maxverstappen1 Happy family
view all 10,266 comments
username1 IMMM THIS IS TOO CUTE
username2 JIMMY AND SASSYYYYY
redbullracing Cat mom and dad 💙
↳ yourinstagram redbull admin i thought you were on my side..
username3 help he said we’re NAWT getting a dog
username4 yn is literally so pretty
landonorris Just get her the puppy man…
↳ maxverstappen1 There’s no need, we’re a happy family like this
↳ yourinstagram you’re so MEAN
victoriaverstappen You won’t be boyfriend of the year like this
↳ maxverstappen1 I know I will be anyways 🥰
↳ yourinstagram don’t get to confident dude
yourinstagram jimmy and sassy are my kids and i love them but we would be an even happier family with a puppy too
↳ username1 she’s not giving up
↳ username2 max verstappen get your girlfriend a dog
↳ maxverstappen1 I don’t think so ❤️
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liked by username1, username2 and 34,735 others
f1updates “Yeah, my girlfriend has serious dog fever right now. Several guys have dogs but we’ve got cats. She keeps bringing up Pierre and his girlfriend recently getting a puppy too, an it’s definitely not helping my case as a cat dad.” -Max in the press conference today 😭
view all 853 comments
username1 HELP ME
username2 he just REFUSES to get a dog
username3 he’s so annoying
username4 I LOVE CAT DAD MAX SO BAD UGH
username5 poor yn 😭
yourinstagram JUST GET ME A DOG PLEASE @/maxverstappen1
↳ username1 MAX JUST LISTEN TO YOUR WOMAN
↳ username2 cat dad forever
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yourinstagram airport looks, mad max and simba gasly who now has my heart 😩 my dog fever is through the roof idc
view all 2,864 comments
username1 PRETTYYYYYT
username2 broooo mad max was mad maxing this weekend
username3 JUST GET YOUR GIRL A DOG @/maxverstappen
pierregasly My kid ❤️
alexandrasaintmleux Leo is sad right now
↳ yourinstagram MY BABY LEO i miss him so much
username4 jimmy and sassy feel betrayed
landonorris Just get the damn dog @/maxverstappen1
↳ yourinstagram THANK YOU
↳ maxverstappen1 Here we go…
username5 #maxgetyourgirlfriendadog
alex_albon I’m team Jimmy and Sassy
↳ yourinstagram ffs what part of they could be siblings do y’all not understand
username6 dog talk aside, yn is soooo pretty
maxverstappen1 I thought I had your heart
↳ yourinstagram you don’t have my heart right now because you won’t get me a dog
↳ username2 GOTCHA
↳ danielricciardo 😂😂😂😂
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liked by username1, username2 and 27,936 others
maxupdates Happy Max with his Cat Dad bracelet !
view all 1,386 comments
username1 AHHHH BABY
username2 CAT DAD FOREVER
username3 not when his gf wants a dog 😭
danielricciardo This is the spirit you’re trying to break @/yourinstagram
↳ username1 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE
↳ username2 DANIEL WTF 😭😭
↳ yourinstagram 1. why do you follow fanpages of my boyfriend? 2. HE CAN BE A CAT DAD AND A DOG DAD
↳ username3 this is good
↳ maxverstappen1 Cat dad only
↳ username4 MAX 😭😭😭😭
↳ yourinstagram MAXIE IM BEGGING
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liked by username1, username2 and 43,725 others
f1updates Max Verstappen was seen outside of a dog shelter with his girlfriend today!
view all 904 comments
username1 OMFGGGGG
username2 HIS FACE I CANT 😭
username3 AHHH THEY’RE GETTING A DOG
username4 yn finally won
username5 DOG DAD MAX INCOMING
username6 he’s clearly happy about it
username7 team dog dad forever
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liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 202,322 comments
yourinstagram IM IN HEAVEN ❤️🥹🥹🥹
view all 4,022 comments
username1 FINALLYYYY
username2 ahhh i bet they adopted one of them i could cry
francisca.cgomes 🤍🤍🤍
username3 ARE YOU DOG PARENTS ALREADY???
↳ yourinstagram not yet but really sooooon maxie absolutely loved them 🥲
↳ username1 i knew there was a dog person deep inside of him
redbullracing We love to see it
↳ yourinstagram can christian horner be the godfather ?
↳ username1 HEEEELP
alexandrasaintmleux About time. Leo needed a pal
↳ francisca.cgomes What about Simba?
↳ yourinstagram my babies actually 🥲🥲
danielricciardo Persistence is key
maxverstappen1 The things I do for love…
↳ yourinstagram I LOVE YOU MAXIEEE
↳ username3 he’s boyfriend of the year now
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liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 1,386,257 others
maxverstappen1 I gave in. Welcome to the family, Jack Verstappen.
view all 11,863 comments
username1 OMFGGGGGGGG
username2 MAX IS A DOG DADDD I CANT
redbullracing We finally have a RedBull kid in the Paddock playground 💙
↳ scuderiaferrari Leo leclerc >>>
↳ username3 the admins are wilding 😭
francisca.cgomes Such a cutie 🥹
victoriaverstappen Finally!!
username3 why jack tho
↳ yourinstagram in honor to the club in monaco and ofc max chose the name
↳ username1 HEEEELP
↳ username2 his obsession with naming his pets after monaco clubs…
alex_albon How are Jimmy and Sassy doing? 😂
↳ maxverstappen1 My poor kids…
↳ yourinstagram THEY’RE BESTIESSSS
landonorris God finally I was done with your gf yapping
↳ yourinstagram you’re so mean to me for no reason
danielricciardo If you need another one I can bark
↳ username1 DANIEL WTF
↳ maxverstappen1 Where did this even come from
yourinstagram MY BABY 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
↳ maxverstappen1 Happy now?
↳ yourinstagram very ily
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liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux and 221,625 others
yourinstagram BESTIES 🥰
view all 4,279 comments
username1 IM CRYING
username2 POOR JIMMY 😭
↳ yourinstagram jimmy and jack are like this 🤞
alex_albon 😂😂😂😂
victoriaverstappen The best family
francisca.cgomes Jack is so cute my heartttt
username3 Patiently waiting for the Leo x Roscoe x Simba x Jack reunion
↳ yourinstagram they should create a band. one direction who?
landonorris why do i want a dog now
↳ maxverstappen1 Don’t mate
↳ yourinstagram oh stfu maxie you spend hours cuddling jack
↳ username2 BUSTED
username4 she really masterminded her way into getting a dog
redbullracing Jimmy and Jack. Icons
↳ maxverstappen1 Don’t forget about Sassy
↳ yourinstagram my girl 🥲
maxverstappen1 My kids ❤️ plus Sassy
↳ yourinstagram THERE HE ISSSS DOG DAD
↳ maxverstappen1 Cat dad first and foremost, always
4K notes · View notes
leaderwonim · 6 months ago
Text
❀﹐𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖
pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis: in which married couple park sunghoon and park y/n are on their way to court to divorce when they suddenly get into a car crash, losing their memories entirely. over time, they start to fall inlove with each other all over again.
genre: angst, exes to lovers + strangers to lovers (ynhoon are soulmates your honor!!) fluff
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“You are the most immature person I have ever met!” You shout, “I should’ve never married you in the first place!”
“Finally, something we can both agree on.” Sunghoon seethes, and you just know the taxi driver is uncomfortable by the way he’s awkwardly looking in the car mirror.
The both of you crossed your arms stubbornly, huffing like little children who just threw a tantrum.
The only reason why you and Sunghoon were getting a divorce in the first place was because he was so busy at his office, inheriting the CEO position from his father just months earlier.
You felt lonely, and it really didn’t help that Sunghoon didn’t give you any reassurance because he was too tired.
“Aish, why is this red light taking so long?” Sunghoon angrily mumbles underneath his breath.
“Well maybe it’s your negative energy.”
“Can you be mature once in your life?” Sunghoon snaps back.
The taxi driver, very annoyed with the both of you, continues driving when the light turns green.
Then all of a sudden, a car rams through the intersection, crashing directly into the taxi.
You scream, and Sunghoon instantly puts his arms around your frame, shielding you.
Then, all goes black.
For a second, you could see the day that you and Sunghoon got married.
It was a Sunday, at the beautiful church nearby Sunghoon’s parents house, and you were wearing what Sunghoon called the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It was plain white, but long and so beautifully designed that it didn’t need any other colors.
When you arrived at the altar, Sunghoon had bursted into tears. Some of his friends, Jake, who had traveled all the way from Australia to attend, patted the boy on back as comfort.
That day was nonetheless the happiest day of your life. You don’t know if Sunghoon feels the same, and looking back, it feels like such a shame that you’re throwing it all down the drain.
❀﹐
BLEEP. BLEEP.
Your body jolts awake, head practically killing you with the amount of ache it produced as you tried to sit up.
“Patient is up!” The nurse says before walking into your room with a tray. “Good morning, are you feeling okay?”
You raise your hands to touch your head, which was bandaged by some soft tissue material.
“Where am I?” You say, looking around the room. You spot a unknown man groggily getting up, and for a second, you can’t help but notice how handsome he was.
That was besides the point, though.
“You’re in the hospital.” The nurse says, smiling softly. “Do you remember the events leading up to this?”
“I.. I don’t remember anything, actually.”
The nurse still smiles at you reassuringly. “It’s alright lovebug, it seems as though you two have lost your memories.”
“Us two?” You question.
“Yes.” She points to the guy on the other bed right next to you who just looked like he woke up from death. He too looked badly injured like you, having a broken hand and bandage around his head. “Park Sunghoon-ssi was in the same car as you and got injured as well.”
Park Sunghoon. Why did that name sound so familiar?
“Well since you're both awake," she said, relief evident in her voice. "You've been in an accident. Do you remember anything Sunghoon-ssi?”
Sunghoon shook his head slowly. "No... I don't remember anything."
The nurse nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “It's not uncommon for victims to lose their memories after a traumatic accident. Memory loss can be temporary. Just focus on resting for now.”
The nurse leaves the room, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.
“She said we were in the same car together,” you say slowly. “But I really can’t remember what you are to me.”
Sunghoon shrugs. “Me either. All I remember vividly is my parents. You must’ve been an acquaintance of mine, then.”
You nod, stretching your limbs. “You got more injured than me.”
He lets out an airy chuckle, lifting his broken arm which was in a cast into the air. “Yep, broken arm.”
You want to remember so badly what had happened leading up to all of this. What were you doing? Where were you going, and why were you with this Park Sunghoon guy in the first place?
“What did you get for breakfast?”
Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you, and you slowly look down at the tray in front of your bed.
“Uh, the nurse got me tiramisu and oatmeal.”
“Tiramisu?” Sunghoon’s mood automatically brightens up. “Can we please switch sweets? I really love tiramisu.”
You laugh at his childlike behavior, but nod anyway. “I’ll bring it to you Sunghoon, wait.”
You don’t know why, but it feels so right saying his name. Sunghoon must’ve felt the same way, because he swore his mouth went dry at you calling out his name.
You carefully make your way out your hospital bed, making sure not to accidentally detach any monitors that were attached to you. Grabbing the tiramisu cup, you make your way over to Sunghoon, who’s already shaking in excitement.
Then you make your way back, opening the lid of your oatmeal bowl.
“I may not know what happened in the accident,” Sunghoon says. “But I know this tiramisu is so fucking good.”
You shake your head, laughing at his words. “Yah Sunghoon, you think we were best friends before all of this?”
“Maybe.” He mutters, the mascarpone cheese of the tiramisu leaving a mark on the side of his lips.
“Well our humor is alike.” You say. “Would explain why we were in the same car together. Maybe we were going out to lunch.”
The rest of the day was spent with Sunghoon and you cracking jokes then and there, the awkwardness of the two of you being strangers quickly faded.
❀﹐
The next day, you were given tiramisu once again while Sunghoon was given cookies.
You descended from your bed, once again, and gave the tiramisu cup to Sunghoon while you grabbed his bag of cookies.
“You know what’s funny?” You say, biting into the warm chocolate chip cookie.
“What?” He says, although it’s muffled from the amount of tiramisu he’s stuffed into his mouth.
“Yah, you gotta stop doing that, it’s gross.”
Sunghoon sticks his tongue out at you, which makes you giggle.
“We’re both Parks, isn’t that funny?”
“Huh,” Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a brief second. “Park Sunghoon and Park Y/N. That is funny.”
Maybe both of your humors are broken because you hit your head too hard during the crash, but even though you were at the hospital, you’re glad you have someone like Sunghoon to keep you company.
“Do you want to watch the stars with me tonight at the balcony?” You ask the boy, who nods softly.
“I’d love to, actually.”
And that’s what the two of you did. By the time it hit 10pm, you two tiptoed out to the balcony, making sure to not let any of the night nurses see you.
“Whoaaa, it’s beautiful.” Sunghoon says, letting his broken arm lean against the railing. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
You smile, leaning your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder.
“Sunghoon.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not sure what we were before the accident,” you stop for a second. “But I’m glad we knew each other.”
Sunghoon turns his head to look down at your face, his expression morphed into a genuine smile. “I’m glad we knew each other too Y/N.”
That night, you slept the most compared to the other nights at the hospital. In your dreams, you see Sunghoon—only instead of being at the hospital bed right beside you, he’s in the kitchen, wearing a black suit.
“You look nice today.”
“Thank you baby.” Sunghoon leans down to give you a kiss on the lips. “Is that tiramisu?”
You nod, your eyes full of love. “Of course, you’ve been working so hard so I decided to make your favorite.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, letting the two of you swing back and forth slowly. “Thank you my love, I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.”
You woke up in a cold sweat, the dream feeling all too real.
“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon says, and you swore your heart almost leaped out of your chest, not expecting the brunette boy to be awake.
“It’s 2am, why are you even awake?” You say croakily, hands coming to rub your tired eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs. “Hey, I had a really weird dream just now.”
“Me too.” You say, “you were in it.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t further question it. “You were a lawyer in my dream, you just graduated from Seoul University. We bought a house, and you told me you wanted to continue with your career.”
At least his dream was somewhat normal, you think. I can’t just tell him I dreamt of us being together and being all lovey dovey. He’d be thrown into a coma!
“Ah, mine was similar.”
Nice save Y/N.
Sunghoon suddenly gets up from his bed, deciding to sit at the dining table the nurses had brought out for the two of you yesterday night.
“Come sit with me.”
You slowly creep out of your bed, sitting on the empty seat next to Sunghoon.
Suddenly, you’re hit with a sudden pounding headache.
“You’re the worst, Sunghoon!” You scream on the top of your lungs, “I hate you! I hate you!”
“Stop screaming!” He grabs your arms gently, eyes directly looking into yours. “Y/N-ah, stop it.”
“So I’m Y/N to you now?” Your voice breaks. “No more baby or love? Am I just another person to you Sunghoon?”
“Of course not, why would you say that?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep inhale. “Let’s just talk about this calmly, okay?”
“What’s there to talk about? You are never home, you’re always cooped up in your office! We might as well get a divorce!”
Sunghoon’s hold on your shoulder makes you snap out of your daze.
“Hey, you okay?” He says concernedly, “you were breathing heavily.”
“What?” You gasp. “Yeah—yeah, I’m okay. I just think I had a flashback.”
“Really? What was it?”
You don’t want to tell Sunghoon that it was the two of you fighting. Why did you even mention divorcing in the flashback? Were you and Sunghoon something more than just friends?
“Just the crash.” You say. You want to tell him the truth, you really do, but you’re not sure if these were hallucinations from how hard your head was hit during the trauma or if they were actual flashbacks.
“Well, I’m here.” Sunghoon whispers reassuringly. “I’ll always be here. We survived a car crash together anyway, we’re kinda bonded to each other.”
You laugh, smacking him on his shoulder softly. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe.”
❀﹐
“Do you remember what your passion was before all of this?” Sunghoon asks, peeling his orange with his injured hand.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, “l think I really would’ve liked becoming a mother. I love kids, the thought of them makes me happy.”
“I think you would be a great mother.” Sunghoon says quietly. “Even though we don’t know each other much, I can tell you’re loving.”
You look down at your lap, trying to suppress the bright smile forming at the corner of your lips.
“Thanks Hoonie.”
“Hoonie?”
Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry! Did I make you uncomfortable? I should’ve not—”
“It’s okay Y/N,” he chuckles. “It’s fine. I like it.”
You can’t help but laugh along with him. “Okay.”
The next few days go by quickly, with you and Sunghoon already warming up to each other.
You were both comfortable enough to speak your thoughts freely around one another, no matter how silly or ridiculous some of them seemed.
When the nurses brought you two breakfast, Sunghoon almost dropped his fork in shock.
“They gave me tiramisu.” He says, eyes glistening with joy. “They finally gave me tiramisu.”
“I don’t know why you’re so excited.” You snicker jokingly. “You’ve been eating my tiramisu this entire week.”
He turns around to look at your tray, which had a bag of snickerdoodle cookies on it.
With shaking limbs, he makes his way over, handing the tiramisu cup to you and swapping it with your cookies.
“I thought you hated snickerdoodle cookies, Hoon?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.
“I do.” He admits. “But you’ve given me your tiramisu all week, I wanted you to have mine this time.”
Your heart swells at that, and you point your spoon at him accusingly.
“Yah, is this because you want my chocolate pudding at dinner?” You joke.
“Pffft, what? Nooo.” He quickly defends himself. “But if you’re willing to share—”
“Shut up Park Sunghoon!”
“Yes ma’am!”
❀﹐
You don’t know why, but you’re starting to feel giddy whenever you talk with Sunghoon.
Your palms does this thing where it sweats profusely, and your tongue feels like dried sandpaper.
There’s no way you like Park Sunghoon, right? You’ve barely known the guy for two weeks, so why was the heart racing at the thought of him?
“I’ve convinced the nurses to get us two bottles of coca cola,” Sunghoon says, practically jumping up and down as he entered the room.
“Really? Out of all the drinks you could’ve persuaded them to get us, you got us coke.”
“Don’t diss Coca Cola like that!” Sunghoon says, crossing his arms.
Just like Sunghoon had said, the nurse approaches the two of you an hour later, 2 bottles of coca cola in her hands. She hands one to Sunghoon, then to you.
"Enjoy." She says, smile reaching her eyes.
Sunghoon's eyes light up when he opens the bottle and takes a sip. "Ah, for some reason, this feels so nostalgic."
A little memory pops up in his head, one of him playing at the park with his mom and younger sister.
"Sunghoon-oppa! Mom says she brought us coca cola!" The young girl, Yeji, says. "C'mon! Come with me!"
The young Park Sunghoon lets his younger sister take his hand, running towards their mom who was on the other side of the park.
"What's wrong Sunghoon-ssi?" You ask, noticing how his thick eyebrows were furrowed and his grip on the bottle had tightened.
"Huh?"
"You zoned out for a bit."
He chuckles nervously, glancing around the room. "Sorry, I think I just had a flashback." He says. "Park Yeji."
"Who?"
"My younger sister." He explains. "I could see her clearly. I wonder where she is right now."
You too wondered where your family was. Maybe they were too busy to come visit you. You could briefly remember having a younger brother. Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.
"Cheers." He says, mood changing quickly. His canines shined brightly as he smiled, making him look all too gorgeous in your eyes. "To the car crash, for bringing me and Park Y/N together."
You giggle, raising your bottle in the air. "Cheers to the car crash, for bonding me with this weird guy named Sunghoon."
"Yah!"
❀﹐
"Is it weird?"
"Hm?"
It's 11pm, and you and Sunghoon face each other as you're both laying on opposite ends of the room.
"That we've known each other for only a few weeks and I already feel like I've known you for an entire lifetime?"
You smile at his words, shaking your head. "No, I feel the same way Hoonie."
"Would it be stupid to say out loud how much I want to kiss you right now?"
Your mouth almost drops at his boldness, but you quickly shake your head.
Sunghoon takes your silence as approval, sitting up to come over to your side.
He brushes the hair away from your face, leaning in to close the gap between your lips.
When the both of you pull away, you automatically lean in again, the feel of his lips on yours felt so right.
"I love you Sunghoon." You say as you cup his cheeks. "I don't want to fight anymore."
"I know," he whispers. "I love you. Cause even though we were both going down, we were going down together."
"I hate you." You say, a smile playing on your face. "I hate you for being the only person who I can't stay mad at."
"And I love you," he says. "For being there for me, always."
"Sunghoon."
"Hm?"
"I love you."
He smiles down at you, uninjured hand coming to hold yours. "I love you too."
❀﹐
"What?" You say flabbergasted.
The next morning was the date of both yours and Sunghoon's discharge, and both your families decided to come visit.
"You two were married." Your father explains, a bewildered expression on his face. "How could you not know? Was the Park Y/N not obvious?"
"I thought that was just my last name!" You say, defending yourself.
"Your last name is Yang, noona." Your little brother speaks up. It was Jungwon, the same boy you kept seeing in your flashbacks, only this time, his face looks more clear and matured. "It was before you married Sunghoon-hyung."
"You're telling me we got married and divorced?" Sunghoon says, stuttering over his own words.
"Yes son," Sunghoon's mother explains. "Well, not quite exactly. We don't know why you guys wanted to divorce, you kind of shut yourselves out when you were arguing. You didn't officially divorce yet, you got into an accident on the way to court."
That made so much sense now. The flashbacks of arguments between you and Sunghoon, the makeups after the arguments, the cute moments, everything. It started to all click in your head.
"You still share houses and everything, the lawyers had to put your case on hold because you were both hospitalized." Jungwon says. "We were here to pick you up separately, in case you weren't comfortable staying with each other."
"It's fine." You and Sunghoon both say at the same time.
"Are you sure honey?" Sunghoon's mom asks concernedly.
"Yes mom, I'm sure."
The drive home was awkward, you both drove in different cars but to the home you had bought before the accident happened.
"Noona," Jungwon calls out to you. Your parents are still in the car, looking at the scene in front of them.
"Yes Jungwon?"
"Listen, I may not know a lot about love," he says, "but I know what you and Sunghoon-hyung have is real. I could still see somewhere in his eyes that he remembers parts of you and he still loves you whether or not his memories came back or not. I could tell you love him too. I don't know why the two of you decided to divorce but I know you called me crying hysterically because of it. I just think you two needed to talk it out, without the lawyers, without the paperwork. You two are the two most stubborn people I know, but also the two most loving people I know, you wouldn't just leave each other like that."
You want to cry at your younger brother's words, tears already leaking from your eyes. "Thank you Won."
You reach your arms out to hug him, a hug that he instantly melts into. "I love you noona."
"I love you too."
❀﹐
"This isn't what we expected, huh?" Sunghoon says, leaning his head on the marble island in the middle of your kitchen. "This whole time I thought you were my best friend, turns out you were my soon to be ex-wife."
You laugh quietly at the irony of the whole situation. "Whatever we were in the past is in the past Hoon."
He nods. "I can't believe we were going to divorce."
"I can't believe it either."
"You know what my mom told me in the car?" Sunghoon sits up straight to look at you. "The reason I have a broken arm and you don't was because during the crash, I put my arms around yours to protect you. Isn't that funny? Even though we hated each other at that moment, my first instinct was to protect you."
You stay still at that, his words sinking into your brain.
"It's like the universe wanted us to be together." You say quietly.
"Hey Y/N?"
You turn around to face Sunghoon. "Yeah?"
"I'm glad I married you."
Even though you and Sunghoon aren't sure where you stand in terms of relationship, all you know is that you love him, and that is enough for the both of you.
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beloveds-embrace · 1 month ago
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More poly!141 please and thank you my dear 🥰🤗
Anon is banished to the timeout corner to ponder on their grievances
That trope of roommates reader x poly 141…
Imagine you are Desperate with a capital D. Things aren’t lookinh bright for you, broke and stressed college student, right now in general, you need a new place quickly, and as it happens, you see an all-too-good offer while apartment searching on Craigslist. Rent is within your budget and god, the place looks really good, but…
You’ll have to share with four men. Four polyamorous men apparently, but still- men. More than one. That alone should’ve made you give up on it, not even think about considering it. It’s dangerous, incredibly so. No one within their right mind would agree to it, especially when you read that they are asking for someone who is willing to take up a good bulk of taking care of the place while they travel.
It’s clearly a scam. A front to a dangerous group.
But the apartment is even better when you actually, stupidly, agree to it. The (military, you learn soon enough) men so very handsome, helping you move in your stuff- the way Price commanded them actually made your knees tremble just a little, but you are not about to get between anyone’s relationship(s).
Moreover; you really like them. Soap is funny but he’s also the one who tries to stay up with you during your late exam studies. Keyword tries because he falls asleep anyways, head lolling on your shoulder only to end up getting carried by Ghost later.
Gaz is also funny, and he often forces you to go out when you hole up yourself for long lengths of time, get some fresh air on a walk that almost always leads to him treating you to coffee and sandwiches in the little corner bakery. Also the only one to share your love for horror movies so he’s your designated partner for whenever you wanna go to the cinemas.
Ghost and Price are your unofficial guard dogs. Grocery shopping? One or both of them tags along, carrying everything without letting you touch a single thing-
“What kind of man would let a lady carry groceries? I’m not weak, sweetheart. Let go of that bag, just see what else we’ll need.”
Ghost just stares straight down at you; no balaclava, but a black surgical mask and his hood drawn up. “Don’t even think about it.”
-and they are both bulky. They don’t even have to try to appear intimidating, everyone almost subconsciously makes way for them. Never in your entire life have you had easier shopping trips. And you’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve stirred awake to find yourself carried to your bed after accidentally falling asleep on the couch.
They were not lying about the lengths of time they are gone, and you understand why they had put in that ad that landed you here in the first place. Once, they were away for months, and they have no contact with you. You always worry for them, regularly checking for any possible texts and sending them updates even when no reply comes.
(You have no ideaaa they have you saved as ‘lil missus’, ‘wifey’, ‘the madame’, ‘darlin’ in their phones. Or how much they cling to your texts even when they can’t reply yet. You don’t suspect shit, but the longer the mission drags on, the more resolved they are to just come home to you as soon as possible.
The second John checks his phone and sees your text about getting stood up on a date, his jaw clenches so tightly that Soap glances over, immediately concerned. The others quickly catch on, a tension settling over the group as he reads the message aloud.
Got stood up on that date lol
Guess its just me nd a frozen pizza tonight 🤷‍♀️ yes ik u hate frozen foods but ur not here sooo
If he wasn’t so incredibly angered by the thought of you going on a date that is not with them, getting stood up, he would have focused on your little disobedience. Would have thought of making you repeat why he hates having them in the flat while you sniffle and whine, the result of him taking his palm to your ass a few dozen times for doing this behind his back, but he can’t focus on that now.
“Let’s finish this and get home,” He hisses out at last, pocketing his phone. “Missus needs a reminder who she belongs to.”
All he gets, unsurprisingly, is approving nods.)
Back in the flat, you sneeze. How strange; you had just recently finished dusting, and everything should be clean.
It’s probably nothing.
a bit more
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slowdivinqs · 11 days ago
Text
Easy
Joel Miller x f! reader | 18+ MDNI
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summary: waking joel up in the best way possible.
warnings: implied age gap. no use of y/n , no outbreak AU, p w/o plot, consensual somnophilia, unprotected P in V, creampies, dirty talk, established relationship, daddy kink, soft dom! Joel, a few spanks, soft cock worship, pussy pronouns, can imagine game Joel or Pedro. Reader is described as having hair and dimples in her back, as well as Joel being able to manhandle her.
W/C: 3k of non-proof read smut.
A/N: I’m so blown away by all the love on Golden, love you all. Thank you for 150 followers ♡ happy holidays!
masterlist
———————————————————————————————
The duvet needs to be chucked outside.
You throw the blanket off of you with a quiet huff, your arms flopping forward onto the mattress once the duvet has flown nothing short of five centimeters off of you.
Joel Miller is a furnace, one who is insistent on holding you hostage - or cuddling, as he likes to call it - the whole night.
You may act like it’s the bane of your existence, shooting him glares in the middle of the night when your face feels like it’s on fire and you want to jump into a bucket of ice, but you still love it.
You turn over and snuggle into your man’s chest, deciding to forgo the annoyance at being warm, feeling the coarse hair tickle your cheek before you hear his deep, rumbling groan of sleepy approval. His arm clumsily wrapping around you and pulling you forward against him as he keeps sleeping soundly above you.
You can’t help but think of a big bear, deep in hibernation. It makes you smile to yourself before you’re falling asleep in Joel’s arms.
The sun decides to target your eyes the next time, and you glance over to see it’s now 10 am. Joel is still fast asleep above you, the arm that’s not cheekily resting on your ass is behind his head, making those biceps of his look even more delicious. You want to bite them, but your man needs his sleep. It’s his only day off after all.
You blink lazily, not really one for laying in bed once you’re awake, so you admire Joel sleeping next to you. That scruffy beard of his, unfairly long lashes, his full bottom lip, the trail of hair on his stomach that leads bellow the band of his boxers.
Your attention has been captured.
You lean your cheek against his chest - still nuzzling - as you stare at his underwear, eyeing the covered bulge of him that drives you feral every time.
You think back to last week, the day you had a very important meeting. The way he woke you up with his head between your legs, his hot mouth wrapped around your clit.
It’s only logical to return the favor, right?
Joel mumbles a sleepy protest as you escape from his arms, subconsciously grabbing your pillow and bringing it to his face, wrapping those big arms of his around it. Inhaling the scent of your shampoo and body cream and letting out a hum of approval as he promptly falls back asleep.
It makes you smile, momentarily losing focus as you slowly pull off his boxers.
His soft cock is a sight to behold. Ironically more enticing to you than when he’s burning bright red and dripping for you.
He was never embarrassed about it like your previous partners were. Whenever Joel got out the shower, with a towel wrapped around his waste, you could see the outline of him underneath, sometimes the towel would even slip, giving you a view of his tip.
You drool just thinking about it.
You shimmy his boxers down further, slowly lifting his package so his heavy, hairy balls sit above the fabric. Running a finger along his soft skin, humming at the sight of his tip leaking a small trail of sticky precum, twitching softly in your grip. You spend a few minutes just admiring him.
Stretched out on the bed like one of those Roman statues, his muscles on display under his hairy arms, tummy and chest. His thighs bent slightly, soft cock resting perfectly. His face, oh he’s so handsome. You love him, more than anything.
His hair has gotten fluffier, you suspect he’s been using your shampoo.
You lick a line up his cock, gathering that delicious pre on your tongue as he shifts in his sleep with a soft sigh. You still, waiting until he settles back into the cushions, you slowly take him into your mouth then, sucking down down down until he’s fully resting in your mouth, slowly twitching to hardness as your mouth warms him.
You stay like that for a few minutes, gently sucking on the warm weight of him until he’s dripping his precum down your throat, grunting in his sleep as his legs twitch up slightly - stomach clenching and relaxing again as his head turns to the side, a moan bubbling up in his throat.
You pull off as slow as you can, savoring the feel and taste of him against your tongue. The smooth, warm skin of the underside of his cock sliding out your throat. Moving your tongue so as to not graze the underside of his sticky tip - he’ll definitely wake up if you do that.
You let his cock fall gently from your lips, nuzzling your head lower, until you’re sucking one of his heavy balls into your mouth.
You feel a hand in your hair a moment later.
“Atta girl, keep doin’ that.” He groans with that sleepy, deep morning voice you love so much, his hips shifting up to guide more of him into your mouth. He keeps you pressed closer against him, inhaling that musk that's uniquely Joel. He spreads his hair-covered legs wider, stretching his back with the groan he always does as he lets you suck on his sac until he’s pulling you off him with a grunt and instead flipping you down on the sheets, climbing on top of you until his wet cock is nudging at your clit.
“You drive me crazy, Y’know that, angel?” He murmurs, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as he spreads your legs, humming in approval when he sees your wet pussy.
“You weren’t supposed to wake up.” You huff, your hands automatically going to his broad shoulders as he kisses your neck like he can’t stand to not kiss you as soon as he wakes up, you know he can’t : every morning you’re littered with kisses until you eventually open your eyes. It’s the best way to wake up you can think of, makes you feel warm and fuzzy and full of giggles. After, he usually spends ten minutes kissing whatever part of you he can until you either brush him off and he follows you into the shower, or you don’t even make it that far.
“Can’t stay sleepin’ when a woman like you ‘s between my legs.” He murmurs, his big palm groping your breast as he licks the sensitive space above your collar.
“Mmm come here, I miss you.” You whisper to him in your own sleepy voice you know he loves just as much as you love his, kissing his lips softly as he slides his hands under your shoulder blades, holding you up.
“I’m right here.” He says with a gentle smile, but you can see behind that softness he’s desperate from your teasing, that he wants to be inside you even more than you want to feel his cock stretch you, which seems impossible.
“I still miss you, I need you.” You whisper, and he brushes your hair back off your forehead with that big palm of his, placing a soft kiss on the skin he’s revealed before he’s pressing his drooling tip against your weeping entrance.
“Come here, my baby.” He whispers, lifting your hips so his tip can push past your entrance, making room for itself inside your wet walls until the rest of him joins in a hot, slow roll, stretching you open so deliciously you have no choice but to let your eyes roll back as you arch against him, peaked nipples almost brushing against his own strong chest. The weight of him inside you is warm and heavy, leaving your clit throbbing as you clench around him.
Your mouth pours out whimpers of his name, holding onto him tightly as he pushes forward until the coarse hairs at the base of him meet your twitching clit, and he’s kissing you softly while his hand cups the bowl of your skull - the other your lower back, his thumb and pointer finger finding your dimples.
“I love you.” He whispers, gazing at your face and admiring you even when your eyes are closed and your mouth hangs a bit open. He’s fighting to keep his own eyes open, to not let them flutter shut as yours have - he needs to see that face of yours he loves so much. Needs to watch the effect of him inside you.
“I love you.” You whimper, and you smile to yourself before your thumb brushes over his nipple cheekily, wanting him to react in the way you know he will.
He lets out an irritated noise that’s the closest to a growl you’ve ever heard from him, and your mission has been accomplished . “Naughty girl, you’re playin’ with fire.” Watching your expression he seems to be looking for what you want. He gives a jerk of his hips, and hums as your eyes flutter.
“Why don’t you teach me a lesson ‘bout being naughty, then?” You say softly to him, biting your bottom lip in a way you know will drive him wild. Your hypothesis is proven when he flips you onto your stomach, raising your ass in the air for his viewing pleasure. You whine when his cock slips out of you, leaving you empty and dripping.
“Yeah? You want me t’be rough with you baby? Bruise those walls n’ this sweet ass if yours?” He emphasizes his words with a chomp to your ass cheek and a slap. Joel Miller loves ass and tits, but you know his neurons activate whenever he sees your backside jiggle. There’s a strict rule about what pants you can wear when he needs to focus, for his own sanity. He’s missed too many deadlines at work due to him being unable to resist you walking past his office. He knows the rule is futile as it became more of a prompt to do the exact opposite of what he asked for.
You both know he doesn’t mind.
“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, your legs kicking back and forth slightly as he spanks your ass again, spreading your cheeks to watch your puckered hole flex and pussy drip down on your clit. He presses a kiss over his bitemark before shimmying his hips up, his large hands finding place on your hips, thumbs digging into your dimples like grips. He spends a second admiring the sight of his cock between your cheeks, no matter how many times he’s seen it.
“That’s my pretty girl.” He coos, his heavy hand holding his cock as he moves it up and down teasingly through your slit, his tip catching on your entrance before he’s pushing into you again. The angle makes you gasp, his cock sliding so deliciously along your front wall, to that spot that makes you dumb, that you can’t help the way you cry for him.
It’s all ‘daddy, daddy, daddy.’ as he starts moving his hips, mixed in with the louder slaps of his hips meeting your ass - noticeably with his increased effort.
“Oh, baby, this pussy is so sweet.” He groans. You can’t see it, but his head falls back, his hands grip your hips harder. You can’t even register what he just said, your mind is nowhere. You can’t think about anything except the pounding of his cock into you - the hot drag of him as he slides through your wetness like you were made just for him, just for his fat cock. “Squeezin’ me so tight, gorgeous girl.”
He smacks your ass again, three times in a row, inhaling sharply through his teeth when you clench around him, feet kicking up from their position against the mattress and into the soft flesh of his own backside. He grunts out a small laugh before he’s spreading your previously closed legs with his thighs, driving back into you when he’s made space for himself.
“How m’I supposed to stay mad at you when this creamy cunt’s cryin’ for her daddy?” He whispers as he leans over you, his chest pressed to your back as his arms wrap around your front, holding the opposite breast in each hand. He’s right, your pussy is creamy, proven by the white ring around his cock you can’t see, and it’s certainly crying for him - it sobs, mourns, yearns, weeps for him. His fist curls around your hair before he’s tugging as gently as he can to make your head tilt back, holding you like that.
“Oh, daddy-“ you hiccup, your voice shaking with his thrusts, every crack of his hips makes your words and moans break. It’s too much, and it’s not enough. You need him like this always, buried inside and holding you in a way that fixes you and breaks you apart all over again.
“I love you- she loves you.” You cry just as your pussy clenches around him again, you don’t care that the sounds of his thrusts are becoming increasingly lewd with the wetness seeping from you. You know he loves it like this:
Warm, messy and wet wet wet.
“I know baby, I know- she’s makin’ such a mess of daddy’s cock, should see the way your slick’s stickin’ between us- fuck.” He growls the last part, no doubt watching the webs of your wetness stretch whenever his crotch pulls away from your ass, judging by the way he’s twitching inside of you - veins thrumming.
You’d probably appreciate the thought a lot more if you could actually think it.
Joel grunts again, and soon you’re being rolled ontop of his chest after he moved himself similarly, his back pressed to the sheets as yours feels the tickle of his chest hair and happy trail. He plants his feet on the mattress, and you bite your bottom lip with a smile before you know it’s going to fall away with a silent scream of a moan as he starts bucking up relentlessly into you.
Your cries are hardly heard over the sound of his heavy balls smacking wetly against you. His hands have grabbed onto the underside of your thighs, holding them against your body as he thrusts with an amount of energy that should be impossible for a man in his fifties that just woke up.
His hands slide from your thighs, over your stomach to your breasts - his gasps, moans and grunts right next to your ear, sending goosebumps down your neck that feel like electricity. Your whole body is tingling. Not even his delicious sounds are enough to distract you from the slick, sloppy thrusts of him inside you, his tip seeming to target just the right spot again and again until your eyes scrunch closed and your brows furrow.
You can feel his smile against you when you suddenly go quiet, the only sounds leaving your mouth being gasps for air.
Your fingers blindly reach back and thread through his hair, just as he parts with one of your breasts to rub your clit with the rough pads of his fingers in little circles - it makes you arch away from him in a manner that he wishes he caught on video, just to save the moment forever. He flips you around once more to pulll himself out to the top, pressing you into the mattress as he slams back down into you. You’re both jerking forward with every thrust, his hand releasing your bouncing tit to wrap around your neck, squeezing gently to make you float up to that space only he can take you. The sloppy ache of him ramming into you further takes your breath away
“That’s my girl -mmph,oh fuck, cum f’your old man, cum for daddy-“ his growl breaks off into a breathy moan that has your toes curling, your cunt clenching around the thick, warm length of him.
What choice do you have but to listen?
Your orgasm hits you like a train, fire lighting through your body and shooting down your spine. Your hips jerk, pussy fluttering around him so deliciously he rewards you with one of his lewdest moans yet. Just when you think you’ll fall into a blissful afterglow, he speeds up.
“God fuckin’ damn, baby.” The words are punched out of him, broken and rough - just like his thrusts. “Good girl, ‘m goin’ t’flood this perfect pussy, then I’ll fuckin’ eat me outta you jus’ to pump you full again.”
It’s the best thing you’ve ever heard in your life, your head rolls back in bliss at the mere thought, not even mentioning the feeling of his sticky balls slapping against you, so plump and full you know he’ll be able to make good on his promise to keep your cunt stuffed until the sun dips down once more.
You can’t even cry his name when you feel his cock twitch upwards, spurting his release deep inside you, filling you with his warmth in a way that makes you feel blissfully cozy, like you’re safe and snug - ready to settle under the blankets with your scented candles burning in the room while Joel occupies himself by cleaning your cream-pied pussy with his tongue.
He kisses down the back of your neck as he gently pulls himself out, turning you on your side so he can kiss your cheeks.
“You okay, baby?” He whispers, continuing to kiss over your face as you keep your eyes closed.
“Yes.” you sigh, finally in that little blissful afterglow. He hums in acknowledgment before he kisses your lips softly, his hands pressing between your shoulder blades from where they’re wrapped around you.
“‘M gonna make us coffee, then I’m eatin’ that pussy ‘till I can’t no more.” He ends his filthy statement with a sweet kiss on your forehead, and you smile at him from the bed as he gets up, stretching your back.
“I love you.” You hum with a sweet sigh as your back pops. He’s currently picking up some laundry on the floor, bare as the day he was born.
“I love you, honey bee.” He says softly.
You admire his muscled back, shoulders and ass as he leaves the room, snuggling into the warmth of the sheets - no longer overbearingly hot - until Joel comes back to keep you warm instead.
———————————————————————————————
thank you so much for reading, please reblog and comment if you enjoyed ♡
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rafey-baby · 1 month ago
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forbidden fruit
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Once upon a time there was a princess and a hunter...
snow white!reader x hunter!rafe
c/w: mentions of violence (he holds a knife to her throat & threatens to kill her), her being a naive sheltered princess, him being slightly suggestive? also if it’s not obvious this is *loosely* based on the story of snow white, 18+ mdni!
wc: 3k
ahh the first part is here xx
part two & moodboard
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“Do you have a favorite flower?”  
The quietness that follows makes her wonder if the brooding man alongside her had heard her question at all.   
She’s not entirely certain why the queen had been so adamant that this grumpy huntsman was to accompany her on this peculiar evening walk, when she’s never even uttered a word to him before— doesn’t even know his name.   
When she’d asked why they had to go so suddenly and after the sunset had already colored the skyline with its cherry tinge, he’d merely muttered something along the lines of ‘following Her Majesty’s orders’.   
She’s well aware of her stepmother’s disdain for her, never quite understanding why her father had married such a cold woman to begin with. However, it has never been in her wishes to upset her any further than she apparently does by simply existing, which is why she’d quietly agreed without much resistance— even if the request had seemed rather strange to her.       
“Uh…I dunno, they all sort of look the same to me, Your Highness,” the sudden rumble interrupts her thoughts.   
“Oh,” she’s slightly taken aback by the gravel in his tone, offering him her own answer nonetheless. “I love daisies.”
“Right,” he mumbles out; mind apparently lost somewhere else entirely as he keeps leading her deeper and deeper into the grim, bleak woods. With every step she takes, the leafy trees begin to turn into something impending, sinister— their slender branches beginning to resemble bony fingers, merely waiting for the right moment to latch onto her and claw at her arms.  
Therefore, she’d much rather hear his voice instead of this daunting lull in their conversation (if she could even call it that). Unfortunately, what she’s gathered from their brief interactions so far, is that the preferred topic of discussion for a man— a hunter like him, is silence. 
And that’s something the murky forest around them is already far too generously presenting her with; this late into the day not even the bluebirds chirp their delightful melodies to make the eerily serene atmosphere of this prolonged journey of theirs a little less dreadful.  
“What’s, um, what’s your name?” she attempts to have him speak some more.   
“Rafe,” he merely offers her a fleeting glance; as if it’s the most tedious thing in the world to even utter out his own name to her.  
Rafe. 
Upon further observation of the rugged lines of his face, she decides it suits him. What doesn’t suit him, however, is the ever-present scowl staining his (rather handsome) features. It’s almost as if something is tormenting him, acidic, putrid on his tongue.  
“Is something wrong?” she questions next, him being vague on purpose not exactly soothing her concerns regarding this entirely too ominous trip.  
They’ve been strolling along some path he apparently has in his mind for quite some time now, at this point nearly reaching the very core of the vast forest that surrounds the entirety of the kingdom.  
“Everything’s fine,” his tone is gruff— a heavy palm on the small of her back nudging her forward when she momentarily halts her movements.   
“Do we have to go so far? M’getting cold,” she complains because even if the palace hasn’t felt like home ever since her dear father’s passing, she wants nothing more now than to return to the thermal fireplace and silky sheets in her bedchamber.
All of a sudden, the snapping of a branch somewhere close causes her to flinch. 
In tandem, they both turn towards the noise as it transforms into foreboding rustling of leaves and something akin to footfall against the muddy ground; forcing a shiver to crawl under her skin.   
She’s beginning to prepare herself to face some gruesome monster when out of the blue, the smallest white-tailed deer she’s ever laid her eyes upon, pokes its head from behind a tree trunk.   
She gasps in adoration; tiptoeing closer to the trembling animal before crouching down.   
“Hello there. Why are you here all by yourself?” she asks with a tender coo— mindfully reaching a hand out to pet its ruffled head.  
Seemingly liking her, it takes a careful step towards her in a moment of bravery; teddy bear eyes curious.   
“Well, aren’t you adorable? I wish I had something for you to eat but I don’t,” she croons out as it nestles its slobbery nose into the hollow of her hand, when all at once, its button eyes dilate and its fleecy ears lift up in alarm.  
“Wha—” she doesn’t have the time to finish her sentence before it’s hurriedly scrambling away from her and disappearing into the viridescent foliage in the blink of an eye.   
She looks over her shoulder to locate the source of such horror, coming face-to-face with a gleaming blade and Rafe’s threatening eyes fixed on her suddenly immobile form.   
“What are you—” her words wither away on her frightened tongue when he abruptly brings the hunting knife to her throat—terror wrapping around her like yarn, tautening around her organs and making her helpless heart thump against her ribcage in a state of hysteria. 
“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, alright? I promise I’ll make it quick,” he sounds determined, her unnerved eyes rounding out. 
“Rafe, you don’t— you don’t have to do this,” she manages out before she feels the harsh edge cut into her delicate skin just the slightest bit— a droplet of crimson trickling down her neck and towards her heaving chest.  
His gaze tracks the rivulet as it dribbles down all the way into her cleavage; leaving a scarlet trail to stain her skin in its wake as her pounding head begins to spin. 
She sits there on the forest floor, unmoving and unable to properly suck in air through her lungs as trepidation slithers itself into the crevices of her bones; merging into her marrow and turning her limbs into icebound liquid. 
“You think I want to?” he mutters out through his teeth.   
“I— I don’t understand...why are you doing this?” she squeaks out when he squeezes the handle in his fist— seemingly torn between two alternatives yanking him into separate directions, their claws scraping at both of his arms.  
“Cause the queen wants your heart on a platter n’ I’m supposed to be doin’ what Her Majesty tells me to, yeah?” he spits out the title as if it’s rotten; as if it’s tasted acrid in his mouth for a long while now.   
“My heart? Why would she want my heart?” she asks with something akin to hurt in her voice; not realizing her stepmother’s hatred towards her branched as far as wanting her dead.   
“Cause she’s lost her fuckin’ mind,” he huffs out; still tightly gripping onto the weapon. “...but then you look at me with those fuckin’ eyes and how am I— how am I supposed to…kill that?” he rambles more to himself than her, making her brows knit together even further.  
“You don’t— you don’t have to, you can let me go and I’ll— I’ll hide in the forest,” she suggests, voice wavering.  
“And freeze to death?” he scoffs.  
“I thought you wanted me dead?” she sounds disconcerted.  
“I don’t want you dead!” his volume is as clamorous as thunder, frustrated.   
“But you’re holding a knife to my throat?” her voice trembles; the frigid steel still imprinting her skin.  
“Yeah, cause I’m supposed to fuckin’ kill you, alright?”  
“I…I don’t understand,” her tone is a muted whisper and at last, he loosens his hold on the knife— a faint thud echoing in the space between them as it hits the soil covered in moss. 
Then, he’s shaking his head, seemingly exasperated with the girl before him. “Talkin’ to fuckin’ deers n’ shit. I mean, who the hell does that?”   
“I…I do? They’re my friends, why wouldn’t I talk to them?” she bats her lashes at him, seemingly confused out her innocent little mind. 
“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he lets out bitter scoff. “Now tell me, what am I supposed to do with you, hm?”   
“You’re not going to…” she swallows the rest of the words— too vile, brutal for her to say out loud.   
“Since you’re makin’ it so fuckin’ hard, no,” he lets out a displeased breath before presenting his palm for her to hold onto.  
“Get up,” he orders, nearly glaring at her.  
“Oh, um, thank you,” she blinks up at his frowning countenance, gingerly grasping onto his much bigger hand and letting him lift her up with ease.  
“Right, uh, why don’t we get you somewhere warm, yeah? You must be freezin’ only wearin’ that dress,” he clears his throat when he notices a tremor rattling through her in tandem with a frosty breeze sweeping past them.  
Taken aback by his sudden concern over her well-being, she merely stands there with a blank expression before he flits his eyes over to hers; seemingly expecting a response. 
“Oh, um...I think— I think I saw a cottage on our way here,” hesitation tinges her suggestion.  
“You did? Where?”  
“It was, um…” she pads along the faint traces of their original route she had sidetracked from in order to greet the baby deer— his heavy footsteps following close behind.   
“There,” she points her index finger towards a small hut partly hidden away behind old, lush trees. 
When they step onto the threshold, she softly knocks on the mahogany door decorated with intricate swirls and designs embedded into the wood.   
“Hello? Would it be possible if we could come in to warm up a little bit? It’s terribly cold out here,” she politely asks.   
However, they’re not granted any sort of a reply.   
“I don’t think anyone’s home,” Rafe notes as he peers through the windows into the unlit interior, before trying his luck and pushing down the handle.  
To both of their surprise, the door is unlocked.   
“Rafe! We can’t just break into someone’s home,” she scolds him with wide eyes.   
“S’not breakin’ in if the door’s open,” he merely shrugs before cautiously stepping inside— having to duck his head since the roof is hanging far too low for his tall figure.   
He looks around the compact space, as if to make sure they truly are alone, before glancing over his shoulder at her still tentative form shivering in the doorway. “What are you waitin’ for? Come in. Unless you wanna get sick standin’ out there?”   
She feels guilt eat away at her soul when she gingerly steps inside the cozy cabin, feeling far too much like an intruder, even if Rafe doesn’t seem all that bothered by entering a complete stranger’s place of residence without permission.  
“Shit, why are these chairs so small?” he complains when the wooden stool creaks under his weigh; threatening to crack as he lights up some candles he found— the walls soon bathing under the burnt-orange flames.    
“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” she suggests meekly.   
“S’not like we have options to choose from,” he points out; stretching his big arms over his head in an attempt to get comfortable.  
“You’re right...I’m sure whoever lives here will understand we needed a place to stay, right?” she tries to convince herself in hopes of brushing her worries under the rug.  
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Let’s see if they have anything to eat around here,” he dismisses her as he stands tall on his feet once more, before he’s opening and closing the cabinets and cupboards in a search for food.  
“Why do they have so many fuckin’ apples in here?” he mindlessly questions when he sees a pile of the red fruit hiding behind one door.  
“Oh, I could make you an apple pie?” 
He turns to look at her beaming with that sudden grand idea of hers.  
“Uh, m’not sure if that’s…”  
“Do you not like them?” she sounds nearly concerned, as if not liking apple pies should be considered a crime in the fairytale world inside her skull.   
“Nah, I do, I just— shouldn’t we be comin’ up with some plan to keep you safe n’ shit? And not bakin’ pies. We don’t really have all the time in the world before the queen finds out you’re alive,” he mutters out. 
“Well, I don’t know about you but I can’t think with an empty stomach. And, um, it would also be a thank you for you sparing my life,” she timidly looks up at him. 
He clears his throat at that, seemingly surprised by her sentimentality; feeling unworthy of the gratitude she’s so willingly offering him. “Right, yeah, uh, alright. Well, you do that and I’ll go get us some firewood or somethin’, yeah?”  
“That sounds perfect,” she smiles.  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
Later, when he returns to the cottage, the saccharine smell of oven-baked apples instantaneously whirls around him— holding him in a cinnamon-scented embrace and dragging a grumble from his stomach.   
“Oh, you’re back just in time!” she exclaims as she sets down two porcelain plates for them.  
“I might’ve went a little overboard with the cinnamon but I hope you don’t mind?” she asks while cutting through the steaming pie that’s making him practically drool.   
“Uh, nah, I…love cinnamon,” he murmurs, not sure why he just said that since he doesn’t particularly even like cinnamon. However, he’s certain that nothing that smells like that could possibly taste bad.  
“Really? Me too!”  
He thinks this is the first time he’s seen her eyes glitter in that way; as if he’s just single-handedly hung the moon or professed his undying love for her. It makes something unfamiliar poke at his insides— scratching at his organs and begging to be let out. However, he decides not to pay it any mind as he sits down on the kitchen chair that’s still entirely too tiny for him.   
“Do you like it?” she asks with her gaze glued to his expression when he takes his first bite. She hasn’t even touched her own slice; opting to stare at him instead and momentarily, he wonders why she’s so eager to please him.   
“This might just be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he can’t help but groan out loud in response to the luscious flavors practically melting on his tongue.  
She swallows at that, mind seemingly stuck somewhere else entirely before she softly clears her throat. “You, um, you think so?”   
“Uh huh,” he hums out with delight before shoving another forkful of softened apple pieces and golden-brown crust into his mouth— a smirk soon blossoming on his face when he catches on to the double entendre of his mindless compliment that apparently turned her all shy.     
“Someone’s got a dirty mind,” he chuckles, mocking her.   
“I…” she opens and then closes her mouth like a goldfish. “I do not—”   
“Alright, you caught me. Second best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he decides to toy with this sweet little princess some more, for some reason wants to see her all flustered; in some crooked way enjoys having an effect on her.   
“Um, right…yeah,” she stumbles over her words; eyes flickering towards her plate as she finally digs into her own portion.   
He’s all too preoccupied grinning at the way she’s avoiding his gaze when out of the blue, the sight of a bed peeking through the slightly ajar bedroom door catches his attention.  
And it’s not so much the piece of furniture that halts his chewing and makes a crease form between his brows, but more so the size of it. It forces his feet to move on their own accord to the room where he’s met with six more beds— just as minuscule as the first one.  
At that, he wonders if he really was so caught up with the princess that his brain couldn’t fit the very clear pieces together any earlier.   
“Oh shit, I think I know these guys n’ I don’t think they’ll be too happy to see me here when they get back,” he mutters while padding back towards the kitchen. 
“What do you mean?” concern paints over her features.   
“Nah, nothin’ just…uh, they don’t like me very much, so we gotta leave. I mean, they probably won’t mind you bein’ here all that much. They’re probably real friendly if you don’t piss them off like I have,” he scratches at the back of his head.      “What did you do?”  
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Uh, I have this cabin for when I’m hunting, but s’not very close. Think we should be safe there for tonight though. Unless you wanna stay here?”   
“No, I wanna go with you. I— I don’t want to stay here alone,” she’s quick to answer. 
“You sure?” he raises his brows.  
She nods.   
“Yeah? S’probably gonna be a few hours on foot. Think you can walk for that long in the woods, princess?” he asks next, his cadence turning into something playful.   
“Of course I can. I have two healthy legs,” she sounds almost offended. 
“I can see that,” an entertained smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “And you’re not scared of the dark either?” he adds, almost as if testing her.  
“Of course not,” she lies through her teeth— eliciting a humored chuckle from him.  
“Mm. Could’ve sworn you were getting a little jumpy on our way here, but must’ve imagined it, right?” he drawls out, eyes narrowing in a challenge. 
“Yeah…” she doesn’t give in, a smile beginning to pull at her lips to match his own; neither of them seeming to mind when something feather-light takes the place of the once leaden ambience between them. 
Momentarily, she wonders why she’d never talked to this strangely captivating hunter before— his blue velvet eyes nearly entrancing, compelling her into an incantation she seems to unconsciously gravitate towards.   
However, the spell is soon broken when he takes a step closer to her, leaning over towards the table to blow off the flickering blaze of the candles— a dusky obscurity dancing around them once more. 
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willieverseetheland · 5 months ago
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good girl
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Dexter Morgan x reader
based on this ask!
Warnings: 18+ smut, rough sex, unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write), oral m!receiving, slight choking, dom!dexter Summary: Dexter comes home after an unsuccessful kill and needs to blow off some steam ;)
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You stand in your kitchen, admiring your work. You've spent the entirety of the day cleaning, scrubbing until the whole room sparkled. The entire house is filled with the fresh lemon-y scent of cleaner. You plop down on your couch, satisfied with your hard work. You reach for the book lying on your coffee table when suddenly the door flies open and shuts with a loud slam. In walks your very handsome boyfriend, Dexter Morgan. Something about the look on his face, and the dramatic entrance, tells you he's not in the greatest mood. His gaze is dark, angry. You feel like you should be scared when he's like this, hell most people would, but you feel rather turned on instead. He's pacing around your living room. Not stopping to look at you, or even say anything.
"Dex, what's wrong?"
He shoots you a harsh glare
"It's just work. I should probably go" he replies
"No, don't. I want to help" you reach to grab his arm
"No, I shouldn't have come here" he pulls his arm back
You frown in response
"What can I do to make you stay" you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes
he sighs
"I'm sure there's some way I could help. I can be pretty convincing" you slide your tongue across your bottom teeth while holding eye contact
He sighs again, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back
He's contemplating his next move. He'd love nothing more than to rip your clothes off and have you right here on the floor. But considering tonight's circumstances, not being able to feed that need inside him. He's afraid he'll be too much, too dark and empty. That he won't be able to control himself. He's been stalking his prey for the past two weeks all for nothing, all for him to turn up empty handed. No blood slide to bring home. He didn't know what else to do but come over. Deep down he knew what he wanted, what this would lead to. The only thing that could take his mind off of things, just for a little while at least. Maybe he could channel that hunger, that need, into something else. You.
As he's looking at you, something in his eyes shift. From anger to a hunger. Something insatiable. You knew what this meant. You could hardly contain your excitement as your arousal began to pool in your underwear. He cups your face in both hands kissing you hard, deep. Teeth clashing, breath heavy. It's like something switched in him. From a man wounded, angry, to a man in need. A man who knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was you. In this moment it's all he could think about. He had tunnel vison, trying to keep tonight's previous failure out of his mind. His hands began to roam your body, grabbing anything they could. You slid your hand down to his crotch, grabbing and rubbing. He growls in response. This only further fueled the fire inside him, like a spark to gasoline. He spun you around and slammed you against the wall.
He breaks the kiss searching your face for any sign of discomfort. He may be a killer, but he would never hurt the woman he loved.
"Keep going" you say breathlessly
At your confirmation, he returns to kissing you. Moving down your neck, sucking and biting. Your breath catches in your throat. His hand snakes down to play with the hem of your pants. He slides between the band reaching further down, tracing circles around your clit. You let out a soft moan. You move your hands to his hair, gliding your fingers through his auburn locks, pulling and tugging. He begins to kiss you more roughly now, breathing hard. You can feel him hardening against your thigh.
"Bedroom" you whisper
You wrap your legs around his waist as he picks you up. Never once breaking the kiss as he carries you to the bedroom. He drops you onto the mattress, springs creaking from the impact.
"Off" he orders, referring to your clothes
You slowly remove your shirt, then pause
"Everything" His face is like stone as he watches your every move, his eyes the only thing moving as he follows your hands move across your body.
When you unclasp your bra and let it slide off, you watch as his pupils dilate wide, focusing in on your now exposed chest.
You move your hands down to start working the buttons of your jeans, moving teasingly slow.
He grabs your wrist
"Don't play games with me" His voice ragged and deep
You can't help but smirk ever so slightly. You've never seen him like this before. Dominant? Sure. But never this dark and angry, never this in need.
You slide your pants off, then your underwear. You're completely exposed now, while he's still fully dressed. You blush a little. His eyes scan your body, taking it all in. Preparing for what's about to happen, playing out different scenarios in his mind. You frown when he doesn't make any moves to remove his own clothes. That tight green button up makes you think horrifically sinful things, you just want him to rip it off and crawl on top of you already. You guess you'll have to do it yourself.
You reach up to tug on the hem of his shirt, he understands and pulls it off over his head. He removes his belt as well which brings your attention to his now extremely large bulge. 'He must be so uncomfortable' you think. You look up at him, making eye contact as you slide his pants and boxers down to his knees. His wild eyes looking into yours as you lean forward to lick a long stripe along his cock. He clenches his jaw at the sensation, wanting more. You finally take him into your mouth, pushing further inch-by-inch. His head falls back as he lets out a low groan. You move your head slowly, still trying to adjust to him in your mouth. He decides this is too slow and places a hand on your head pushing you faster. Your gags only encourage him as the closer he gets the rougher and faster he pushes until he's full-on face fucking you. He stops however and pulls away; this isn't how he wants to finish. He wants more, he needs to be inside you.
He looks down at you, noticing tears streaming down your face. He snaps out of whatever sex induced daze he was in. His eyes dissolving from aroused to concerned.
"Are you okay? Was that too much?" His voice laced with worry
But to his surprise, you just smile up at him
"No, I can take it. I promise" you say, giving him the same pleading doe eyes that got you into this mess
With your approval, he immediately snaps back. Lips crashing into yours, tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, like he's trying to memorize your taste. He pushes you onto the bed and crawls over you. He continues devouring your lips, rough and passionate, he even bites and draws a little blood, much to his amusement. One hand grasping your jaw while the other snakes down to your core. He easily slides two fingers in while his thumb rubs circles on your clit. Your loud moans are muffled by his mouth on yours. Gripping your jaw tightly, he moves your head to the side to gain access to your neck. He loves the sounds you make when he bites the tender flesh where your jaw meets your earlobe. He ravages your neck, biting, licking, and sucking any available skin he can get his mouth on. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was a vampire. Maybe that's just the effect you have on him. You moan loudly as his fingers work you into bliss, practically screaming his name as you cum.
He moves your face back to look at him. Your eyes glazed over with pleasure, one of his favorite looks on you. He grabs your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. He locks eyes with you as he aligns with your entrance and slowly pushes in. He loves watching your mouth fall open and your eyebrows scrunch in pleasure. He moves his hands to your hips, gripping tightly. His pace quickens, causing you to moan with every deep thrust. You squeeze your eyes shut as pleasure rolls through you.
His thrusts become faster and rougher. He moves a hand from your waist to your chest, rubbing his thumb across your nipples.
He suddenly pulls out and you whimper at the emptiness. You look at him confused
"Dex, please. I need you"
But before you know it, he grabs your waist and flips you over. His hands return to your hips, gripping them tightly. You arch your back in response, pushing into him.
"Good girl" he says in a low taunting voice
You moan at his words, God you love when he's like this
Without warning, he plunges back into you. Hitting deeper inside you with this new angle. He's just as rough, pounding into you relentlessly. With every stroke he can feel all his anger and stress fall away. He doesn't care about what happened earlier, all he can feel is you and the way you wrap around him perfectly. It doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge as you're sensitive from your previous orgasm. You cum hard, moaning out his name as your walls clench around him. Dexter continues to fuck into you, his thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he gets closer. He leans over you, bringing his lips to your ear.
"Inside, is that okay?" he whispers
You can't do anything other than nod
With a few final thrusts he comes undone, spilling into you. He slumps over you, chest against your back. Breathing in sync, feeling each other's bodies pressed together. He places soft kisses to the back of your neck, a complete contrast to the man he was a second ago. He collapses on the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you.
"I didn't go too far, did I?" he asks in his usual calm, gentle voice
"No, you were perfect." you smile, pulling his hand to your face and placing a gentle kiss.
...
This ended up WAYYY longer than expected but I'm very glad. Big thank you to the person that requested this, I hope I did your vision justice. Thanks for reading! <3
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baeshijima · 3 months ago
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mr reca fic where he’s suffering a creative slump due to the lack of good scripts (by his standards) from various screenwriters. he feels himself going positively insane with every script he’s given.
it’s too dull. it’s too predictable. this one has no creative flair whatsoever!! that one just doesn’t spark enough imagination!!!
it’s troublesome, really. some think he’s really going through it, while others believe the scripts he’s been given won’t bring him enough money. but really, who cares about monetary value when it is he who cannot even begin to picture himself enjoying the process that comes with each script?
and so that is how he finds himself wandering around aimlessly. sometimes the outdoors is necessary for the mind, and who knows? perhaps he really will find something that will give him a spark. hmm, those trees are looking a little dull. the sky overhead is too cloudy. hm? did he just hear thunder—
something collides into his chest, a choked “oof!” following soon after. he stumbles backwards a little, papers flying through the air around him. he blinks once, twice, at the sight of you on the ground, muttering something under your breath before a sharp gasp escapes you, hastily scrambling to gather the papers fluttering and strewn around.
one such paper falls into his hands. he glances over its contents, skimming through it as he goes to pass it over to you with an apology at the tip of his tongue, only to freeze.
this… this is genius! this is absolutely the pinnacle of writing!! while a little rough around the edges (as drafts usually tend to be), his once clouded mind is now clear, giving way to a blank canvas which slowly depicts the imagery your writing induces. idea after idea pours into his brain as he can visualise exactly what he wants, his body trembling and heart pounding as he insantly fixates on your panicked form still collecting all the fallen papers.
“yes… yes! this is what i was looking for! everything about this is pure artistry! the possibilities are endless, the sky is the limit!!”
this is possibly the happiest and freest he has felt in what seems like eons! seriously, compared to those other mind-numbing scripts this truly is the pinnacle of writing itself.
a laugh full of pure, unadulterated glee escapes him, careful not to crinkle the god-sent paper cradled in his palms. “you! you’re a genius!”
“i’m a wha…?”
he whirls in the direction of the source of the voice, further praises and a proposal for a collaboration on the tip of his tongue, only for his breath to catch in his throat.
you… you’re so radiant! even with that disheveled appearance and absolutely adorable confused expression you’re giving him, he never realised such beauty existed! not only does your writing fill him with endless creativity, but his pounding heart, parched throat and warming skin tells him you’re definitely the main character!
but wait! if you were to be the main character, then would that make him the main character’s love interest? surely he wouldn’t have had such a cliché meet-cute like bumping into each other if he wasn’t the love interest! but what if there is a second love interest? no, no, he can oust them…
you, on the other hand, believe you’re about to get whiplash instead of the man, baffled at how he instantly switched from a maniac to stark silence to muttering senselessly with a dreamy expression.
well, each to their own. you have more pressing matters, and that’s to quickly return home and continue fantasising before you forget the idea! but first, you have to get the last piece of paper back…
“um… sir? can i have my paper back, please?”
in an instant, he kneels in front of you. now that you’re at eye level, he certainly is very handsome. if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought this was some movie or drama plot with him as the main lead! oh, but why is he holding your hands—
“yes, i will spend the rest of my life with you.”
“…what?”
tldr; you’re just a silly writer who daydreams far too much for their own good, and somehow managed to bag top-tier director mr reca with the power of said daydreams. (his ever-growing obsession with you is concerning to say the least but, hey! what genius isn’t at least a little insane?)
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andypantsx3 · 3 months ago
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IF YOU LET ME : TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER
SUMMARY: Disguised as a eunuch in the imperial palace, a mistake on your part leads to your unmasking before the prince. By rights it should mean your death, but Prince Shouto seems to have another plan in mind... CONTENT: Prince Shouto, AFAB fem reader, identity reveal, class differences, slight gender fuckery, historical sexism, implications of past sexual threats, vaguely Heian-era historical Japanese setting, deep historical inaccuracy, SFW (2.2k) NOTES: This was a barely-edited unplanned little thought demon I had to exorcise lol, thank you for being patient with me. Back to our regularly scheduled programming soon.
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Your breast bindings were missing.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You flipped your sleeping mat again, clawing through your blankets frantically, hoping you’d somehow missed them the first time. But only the tatami floor stared back up at you—strands of woven rice straw pale and bare.
You muttered a curse under your breath—you’d definitely forgotten to extract your bindings from where you’d shucked off yesterday’s robes, forgotten to squirrel them away before sinking into bed. And now they’d been whisked away by a palace maid to be laundered. Or worse, discovered.
Your eyes darted through your small sleeping chamber frantically, seeking a solution. You were already late for Prince Shouto’s first lesson of the day, and you needed all the time you could get with him today. You’d promised the Minister of Rites that you’d have a word with the prince, to try to persuade Shouto to accept the wife he was so persistently putting his advisors off on.
You were, after all, the prince’s closest confidant—his personal secretary and calligraphy tutor, an unthreatening eunuch from the lower classes with whom Shouto was clearly most at ease. And at least most of that was true—you did have Prince Shouto’s trust, friendship, and respect, as much as a member of the imperial family could bestow on a commoner, anyway.
If he was going to listen to anyone on the subject of taking a wife—at the very least one concubine, if not his future empress—it would be his trusted friend the eunuch.
There was just one very important detail that everyone, even His Highness, was mistaken about on that account.
One blasted detail that could get you killed at best were anyone to figure it out.
Your eyes fell back to your blankets, and you immediately grabbed two fistfuls, yanking as hard as you could until you felt the fabric give, the rip and tear echoing in the small space of your sleeping chamber. You kept ripping until a strip came free, a little smaller than what you usually had to work with.
But you were not about to complain, not at a time like this.
You flung the strip down to scrabble with the tie of your underrobe, unknotting it with fumbling fingers. You were just about to fling it off of you when there was a careful knock against the screen of your door.
You didn’t manage to stifle your reflexive scream, stumbling through a half-executed turn towards the door. The screen was suddenly thrown back with alarming force, Prince Shouto’s figure filling the doorway.
You yanked your shirt closed again, panicking, as you caught sight of the concern on his handsome face. You barely registered the other details, mind tripping over excuses, unable to appreciate the way his shoulders looked all the broader in his sokutai the way you normally did.
“Are you well?” Shouto demanded, his normally soft tone a little ragged. You watched his mismatched eyes dart quickly around your chambers, as if seeking a threat, only to drop back to you when there was none.
“Your Highness,” you said, lost for anything else.
“I heard—there was a scream,” he said, his eyebrows scrunching the tiniest bit.
He always looked his most beautiful when he was confused, you thought, focusing hard on a particular problem. Not that a common woman had any business thinking anything about the crown prince, never mind a woman masquerading as a man. But it was hard to ignore a face that beautiful, the way his gaze sharpened with focus, full mouth pursing as he thought through a problem.
He looked like that now as his gaze darted over you. And then suddenly his eyes dipped to your collarbone, and his features went perfectly, horribly still.
An elegant hand reached back, and he immediately drew the screen closed behind him, eyes never leaving you as he took another step into the room.
You stumbled back, almost tripping over your bedding. You did not dare to turn towards him or away, scuttling sideways instead like a nervous crab.
“Your Highness,” you began again, heart shooting into your mouth when Shouto’s long fingers tangled in your undershirt.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone softening. You gripped your shirt closed as hard as you could against the tug of his fingers. “Did something happen?”
“N-nothing,” you stammered, not liking the way it made him clearly more suspicious. “I was just changing.”
But Shouto’s beautiful, cursed eyes dipped to your bedding, where the torn strip lay across your blankets in plain sight. You could almost see the calculation as his eyes widened the tiniest fraction, and his grip tightened on your robes. Of course he’d seen it, and of course it looked like a wound dressing you’d just been about to apply.
He took another step closer, too close, until you could feel the heat of him through your sleeve, smell the sweet blend of dried herbs the servants kept his clothing stored with.
You tried to twist out of Shouto’s grip without rucking up your shirt, but his hold was too strong.
“Let me see,” he ordered in his soft, low tone. Your heartbeat kicked up higher, hammering in your chest so hard it could have broken a rib.
It was a death sentence to ignore an order from a member of the imperial family. It was also a death sentence to reveal what you’d been these many years. You hoped Prince Shouto, something of a friend to you, would let you off lightly for ignoring him.
“Please, Your Highness,” you said, clinging even harder to the closure of your shirt. “I will be ready in just a moment, I am simply running late. I beg your forgiveness.”
But if there was one thing about the crown prince, it was that he was stubborn, bullheaded when it came to the ideas and goals he took seriously. And he had always made it clear he took your friendship seriously.
That perfect mouth shifted into a frown. “I order you to let me see,” he said, his tone still soft but firm. “You will let me.”
You froze under his hands, muscles locking up in panic. Shouto was still between you and the door, and your chambers were not wide enough for you to slip around him without him being able to easily catch you. He was also, unfortunately, extremely quick with sharp reflexes honed by years of swordsmanship. There would be no escaping this situation.
Fuck. Fuck, you were out of ideas.
“Hold still,” Shouto commanded gently, long fingers prying your stiff ones away from the shirt ties. You watched his face in mute panic, not wanting to see the flash of betrayal and disgust, but unable to look away as he prised your robes aside. Shame heated your cheeks.
Shouto’s long eyelashes dipped, before his gaze froze on your chest. For a second, he went as stiff as you. Then he was yanking your robes closed again, a watercolor of pink washing across the bridge of his nose and those high cheekbones.
His eyes darted back to yours, his expression perfectly still though his face was flushed. “You never told me,” he said accusingly.
The right thing to do in this situation was to go to your knees in a kowtow and beg for his mercy, but Shouto still had a grip on your robes and did not look like he meant to let go. You ducked your head in as much of a bow as you could manage, your face warm. “Your Highness, I have no excuse. I have betrayed you.”
When you had concocted this scheme, you had wanted to put yourself beyond the reach of a local official back in your home village. His advances were becoming increasingly aggressive, and as a common woman, you had no recourse. You could only escape into a place where his rule was circumvented by a superior one, where no man would think to have an interest in you.
You had not intended to become Prince Shouto’s tutor, had not anticipated the true risk of your gambit until it was already too late. But you would still rather die than be returned into the hands of your village’s preceptor.
If this is how it ended…
“I have compromised you,” Shouto’s voice startled you out of your memories.
You glanced up at him, befuddled.
Shouto’s fingers twisted in your robes. “Just now, and—all the many times we have been alone until now. I did not know.”
Honor and compromise were the least of your concerns right now, and would matter even less in the event of your death. You did not know where the prince meant to go with this.
“Your Highness, you were not expected to know,” you said, shame coiling in your belly. You would make the same choices you had made over again, if given the chance, but you had never meant to betray Shouto. You had genuinely liked him, and you would regret losing the chance to be by his side in the years to come.
Shouto’s eyes flicked over you in some kind of assessment. He lifted one hand from your shirt, gasping your scholar’s cap and tugging it free from your hair. You felt his fingers tangle so very gently in the strands of your hair, seeking out the ties and pins.
Your own eyes traced over him as he did, drinking in the firm planes of his chest in his sokutai, the dark blue a beautiful contrast with his pale skin. You heard pins dropping to the ground beside you, as Shouto rubbed a strand of your hair between his fingers. He seemed to be evaluating you in a new light, relearning your appearance though a clearer lens.
Disgust and betrayal were not evident in how delicately he was handling you. You did not know what this meant.
“They will put you to death if they know,” Shouto said, eyes slowly moving from the hair between his fingers to your face again. “You cannot hide like this forever.”
You did not know what other choice was to be had. If Shouto did not plan to put you to death himself, then what other choice did you have than to go on pretending?
Shouto’s gaze dropped to your mouth and you realized you’d spoken the thought aloud.
“There is one other way to put you beyond the reach of the court,” he said slowly.
You felt your eyebrows raise in question. “I cannot think of it, Your Highness.”
Shouto absently curled the strand of your hair about his fingers, the little crease between his perfect eyebrows appearing again. He looked the way he did when he played games with his strategy tutor, or when he was thinking hard on a new sword form.
“The ministers wish for me to take a wife,” Shouto said softly. “My household is mine to manage alone.”
Outside the laws of the court, he meant. A strange flutter went through you, heat spotting your cheeks again. Shouto’s presence before you was suddenly magnified a hundred fold, and you became singularly aware of the breadth and height of him, the heat of him almost against you.
“You do not want a wife,” you said, well aware of the many years he’d spent bullheadedly resisting the idea.
“I do not want any the ministers have selected for me,” Shouto corrected.
Your whole body felt flushed again. He meant he was amenable to you.
You had never let yourself think it but he was more than amenable to you as well.
“I would keep you safe,” he promised.
You almost slumped to the floor in relief, only Shouto’s grip on you keeping you upright. You would not die. You would not be returned to your village. You would, through all of this, it seemed, keep Shouto’s friendship.
“I know you would,” you said.
Shouto understood your acceptance. Slowly his fingers untwined themselves from your hair, and he drew your robes more firmly around you. Your body burned hot, still, stomach fluttering under his renewed brand of regard.
“I will arrange it quickly,” Shouto said. “You must stay here. I will send someone for you.”
You nodded.
Shouto looked regretful as he stepped back from you. “We will do it properly, later,” he said. “I will pay my respects to your family.”
You waved a hand frantically, shocked by the idea of the future emperor making his bows in your family’s rundown hut. It was not as though you would be his first-ranked wife or empress! He did not need to pay any respects to the family of a concubine out of a common family!
“There is no need,” you insisted, but Shouto was already turning towards the door. You could see by the set of his shoulders this was another thing he meant to be stubborn about.
“I will honor my first and only wife,” he said, turning to pin you with that heterochromatic gaze.
Your mouth dropped open in shock, but you had no time to reply before he was sliding the door closed behind him again, leaving you alone with the sudden weight of the statement. It had all happened so quickly, you had never expected that Shouto meant what he did.
You wondered what it meant that Shouto had made such a promise so readily, when he had known the truth about you for only minutes.
And you wondered if, like your original entry into the palace, you were getting yourself into something far beyond what you initially understood.
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cherriesncinnamon · 3 months ago
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forgive me / father charlie x fem!reader
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synopsis: after recently becoming involved with the catholic church, you soon start having inappropriate fantasies about your priest. desperately wanting to atone, you confess your sins.
warnings/tags: handjob, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), mentions of self harm/repentance, priest x reader (i mean no harm to the catholic community, this is just fiction).
word count: 1.3k.
a/n: sooooo🥰 i'm obsessed with nicholas chavez. i'm not gonna lie, i haven't seen grotesquerie fully, but after seeing his scenes i had to write a one shot about father charlie. this is completely and utterly feral. me when i need him biblically.
link to another father charlie piece i've done due to popular demand!!
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
I've never been a religious person. I've always believed that a higher power is unprovable, leading to my agnosticism. My mother is a devout Catholic, but she's never particularly pushed her beliefs onto me. That was until recently when she threatened to disown me if I refused to come to church for another Sunday.
The people are insufferable, the sermons are unstimulating, and I cannot bear knowing I could be doing something much more exciting with my morning. I sit at the very end of the pew, arms crossed in anguish, awaiting a middle aged, balding priest to appear and preach for an hour. But to my surprise, a much younger version emerges instead. Dark thick hair, darling brown eyes, and a charming smile. My eyes widen with intrigue at the strikingly handsome man before me. He begins to speak, walking up and down the rows of people, truly passionate about what he's saying. I'm paying attention to the words, but not so much the message. After the communion and the drinking of the wine, my mother and I mingle for a bit, chatting uselessness to the bored housewives. Church is the only liberating part of their week, and now I know why.
As if by a miracle of God, I become Catholic overnight. My mother is shocked at my interest in coming to church the following week, and the week after that, and that week after that. Each time I see him, my desire intensifies. Knowing that he has taken a vow of celibacy only entices me more. I imagine him bending me over the pews, his singular ring leaving an indent in my upper thigh. I need to confess. I need to release this demon that is plaguing my thoughts.
On a stormy Friday evening, I make my way to the back of the church, placing three hesitant knocks on his office door. The rest of the building is vacant, candle light being my only source of sight. His voices seeps through the door, permitting me to enter.
"Ah, Miss Y/L/N, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He welcomes me in with a warm smile, putting down the pen he was holding to usher me to sit.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I- I've come to confess." I swallow, stuttering my words in fear. Father Charlie cocks his head in question.
"I see. Anything you say should be in confidence, your confession will be safe with me." He replies, nodding in reassurance. I fiddle with the hem of my skirt in anticipation, heat rising to my cheeks from simply being alone with him. I drape my long hair over my shoulder and clear my throat.
"I've been having impure thoughts, Father."
"Okay. And what do these thoughts detail?" He probes, clasping his hands together on the wooden desk. The Bible sits closed next to him; I can feel it judging me.
"Sexual thoughts. I want to pleasure myself, but I know I can't." I grip at my throat which has become tight, my stomach tingling with the remembrance of my fantasies. Charlie loosens his Roman collar, eyes searching the room for anything to look at besides me.
"I think about you, Father. You punishing me for my sins, taking me, sliding yourself into me." I spill, cheeks on fire and wine red. Father Charlie is quick to stand up from his chair, pacing to the other side of the room.
"I have taken a vow. Please do not seduce me." He begs, reaching for the door handle.
I stand in front of him, his tall frame towering over me, eyes fixated on mine. His chest is heaving, lips slightly parted as he breathes. Standing on the tips of my toes, I whisper.
"Don't you want to know what it feels like, Father? Just once?" My bottom lip lightly grazes his ear lobe, increasing his breathing pace. Our faces are mere centimetres apart, and I'm using all of my might to stop myself tasting him.
"I cannot abandon my faith, I mustn't." He insists, expression pained and frustrated. His brow is furrowed, forehead glazed in sweat. I can tell he is holding himself back with all his strength, and I'm feeling brave.
I take my fingertips and slide them over his clothed cock, smiling as it hardens under my gentle touch. Charlie goes to remove my hand, but quickly retracts when I speed up, using my palm to add pressure. I slowly undo his leather belt, lifting the waistband of his black pants. Taking him in my grasp, I stroke his thick length, watching in euphoria as his head tips back in bliss. His hands seek the stability of the doorframe for support, his knees weakening more every second.
"Feel me." Slipping my panties to the side, I guide his fingers to my pussy, slick with my arousal, begging for contact.
"Oh, forgive me Lord." He cries out, teasing my entrance with his digits while I excite his tip dripping pre-cum with my thumb. He stares at me in awe when I lick myself off his fingers, cock throbbing, veins pulsing blood into him until he's unbearably hard.
Hungry for my kiss, he devours my lips, biting my bottom lip playfully. Our tongues slide across one another, his hands gripping the sides of my face. He tastes like the Merlot we have at communion; sweet and fruity. My hands snake around his neck, twirling the thick locks of hair at the nape. His lips take interest elsewhere, peppering erotic pecks across my jaw, to my neck, and to my chest. I unbutton my white dress shirt, revealing my braless breasts. His eyes widen, immediately manhandling and kissing the supple skin.
"I want to feel you inside of me. Please, Father." I moan, perching myself on the edge of his desk, skirt hiked up to my hips. I spread my legs wide, fully revealing myself to him. He exhales in defeat, slotting himself between me.
Charlie rests his hands on either side of me on the desk while I line up his cock to my entrance, pushing my hips towards him. Grabbing my waist, he enters me, his length filling my walls like a glove. His voice groans deeply against my neck, his hand pressed on my lower back for support. His thrusts start off slow and juvenile, but quickly speed up to a pace we both can't take for long. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him in deeper. I moan sweet noises with every movement and caress, realising that this is better than I could've imagined.
"You feel so good, this feels so good." He sobs, nails digging into my hips so hard they leave streaks of blood. The cross around his neck swings in my face, reminding me of how sin can feel so good.
Waves of pleasure wash over me, the coil inside of me tightening by the second. I pull the back of his head close to me as my climax arrives. I bite his lip hard in satisfaction, tasting his blood on my tongue. It's not long before he follows in a moaning mess, burying his head into my chest, grabbing my breast as his warm cum fills me.
It takes a minute of getting our breaths back to move. I use a tissue to wipe his seed off my thighs. Father Charlie hastily redresses, fixing his collar and clutching his necklace.
"Lord, forgive me. Forgive me for this cardinal sin. Forgive me for enjoying it." He prays on his knees, staring up at a portrait of God. I place my hand on his back, feeling some guilt.
"I need to repent. You need to punish me." He says, picking up his leather belt from the floor and placing it in my hands.
"How can something that feels like this be a sin?" He asks me, tears in his eyes. I shake my head, not knowing the answer myself. He takes his shirt off, showing me his scarred back.
"Punish me, please."
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mv1simp · 2 months ago
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Slow Down♥️
Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader (SocialMedia!AU)
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I’m so down if you’re ready, I’ll show you if you let me, girl (she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said okay)
You and Max Verstappen are very well known in the media, for having one of the most volatile rivalries in the sporting world. But Ferrari’s Princess and Redbull’s Mad Max send shockwaves through the paddock when your PR teams confirm you’re officially dating. The public have a hard time believing it…until your sex tape gets leaked on Twitter a month later. Social Media!AU
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, trying my hand at a SM! AU for the first time!!, dom! Max and switch! Reader, size kink, sexism, max being a feminist king
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Everyone always said there was a thin line between love and hate. Frankly, you find it to be sexist bullshit, rolling your eyes everytime some interviewer or your friends or trainer would make some sly comment about so what’s going on between you and Max, with a suggestive wiggle of their eyebrows. Nothing, just him trying to run me off the track repeatedly and giving me 4 bruised ribs in Singapore when he clipped me illegally, you say with an annoyed tone. You know that if you were a man, and not the first female driver in decades in F1, you wouldn’t be getting randomly shippedwith all the drivers. And for gods sake, Verstappen off all people was the most laughable idea. The man was either being a violent menace on the track or an immature twelve year old off it, you think vehemently. You two had stayed well out of each others way in your Haas seat last year, with you leading the mid pack in the suboptimal car but Max remaining well out of reach at the front of the pack. But this year, you’d earned yourself a Ferrari seat and were ecstatic to finally be able to compete for a WDC.
That was, until you and Max Verstappen suddenly started to keep getting caught in each others crosshairs. What started as polite indifference between two coworkers blew up into a PR frenzy, with you and Max completing for the top step in the podium every race weekend. He thought you a reckless driver, getting lucky in a rocket ship this year and trying to sink her claws into something she can’t handle. You thought him over arrogant, a man who couldn’t handle losing to a girl, his fragile ego unable to handle losing a 4th WDC to a Ferrari driver who was only in her second F1 season.
And then, two months out from the end of the season, everything changed between you and Max. On a night out in Monaco with your friends, celebrating being home from triple headers, you’d had the unfortunate experience of being cornered by some drunk, sexist creep who thought he was entitled to touch you. He’d been stronger than you expected, pinning you in a dark alleyway and you just when you starting to freak out, Max of all people practically threw the guy off you. He’d angrily spat at the drunk to pick on someone his own size or he’d break his jaw next time, before leading you to his car with a gentle hand. Normally, you found Max’s far larger frame to be annoying, another way for him to intimidate you when he glared downwards. But that night you couldn’t help but be grateful for the muscular, tall man and his attentive blue eyes as you willingly follow him with wide, doe eyes.
The ride home had been silent, you nervously clutching the large sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you from his backseat. And when you’d thanked him for his help, saying you appreciate him looking out for you even though he hated you, he looked at you with genuine surprise. I don’t hate you, he’d said. Well, I suppose we have had our differences on the track. You snickered at this, muttering that’s one way of putting it. Max chuckled, making you peer at him curiously as you’d never heard him do that in your presence. He was actually very handsome, you noted, without an angry scowl on his face or that Redbull helmet covering him. Then you tell your tipsy brain to shut up because where the hell had that thought suddenly come from?!
But really, I think you’re a pretty amazing girl off the track, Max continued. It must be hard being the only female driver, but you always have something good to say to the dumb interview questions you get. And I’m not going to stand by and let any woman be felt up by some creep. Even if it’s the Princess of Ferrari, he adds with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at this, stepping out of his car as you reach your apartment. And when you offer him his hoodie back, he tells you to keep it. You can use it to stay warm at the next race - it’s Brazil, very rainy. Did I mention I’m called the rainmaster, incidentally? You burst out laughing at his lack of subtlety, and he smiles at having distracted you, making the scared look in your pretty doe eyes from earlier disappear. Fuck off, Verstappen, you giggle, and for once your words have no real bite.
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By the time your second F1 season is over, and you’re receiving your trophy for the world championship at the Prizegiving Gala, the first female to do so, you and Max Verstappen have became good friends. Maybe something more, from all the time you’ve started spending together off the track gaming, playing padel, and going out drinking. You were far too afraid to ever say something to him, knowing the media response to the first female driver dating a fellow driver would be absolutely brutal. Besides, you had no idea if Max remotely felt the same way about you - his type seemed to be pretty models, not aggressive drivers who spent half her time plotting his downfall.
You’re surprised when he finds you at the after party, late into the night, where everyone is too plastered to note that the fallen Redbull champion is taking the winning Ferrari Princess to a private level on the yacht. If you think I’m going to apologise for breaking your winning streak, you can try again, you announce dramatically as you grin at him, 5 drinks in and pink lips loosened, letting him know you were jesting. Wouldn’t have it any other way, Princess, Max hums, coming to stand so close to you that your heart rate quickens when you feel warmth radiating from the taller, muscular driver. Besides, I’ll be taking the cup next year, anyways. Enjoy the high while you can, he says in his Dutch accent, all cocky.
You let out an outraged gasp at this, forgetting how close you two already are as you step towards him, accusing hand pressed against his firm chest. But before you can say anything, Max’s gorgeous blue eyes drop down to where your manicured nails are touching his pecs. And then he looks down further, to where your plush tits have pressed up against his abs, your cute red corset minidress pushing your cleavage up temptingly. There’s no mistaking the dark desire that swirls in his intense gaze as he looks back into your wide doe eyes. And then he’s leaning in, finally, you think, and then your brain wakes up and you remember who’s in front of you. We can’t, Max, you say breathlessly, dazed by how attractive he looks when turned on. Why not, the Dutchman demands, cocky as usual. You don’t want this, Princess? His large hand brushed your jaw, tilting your face upwards when you try to look away. Your breath hitched from the contact, and you’re sure he can feel how fast your carotid pulse is beating. It’s-it’s not that I don’t want to, you say with a blush, making a pleased smirk appear on Max’s lips. But I’m the only female driver on the grid, the public would tear me apart if they found out I hooked up with another driver on the grid-
Fuck what anyone else thinks, Max says passionately, the familiar spark of defiance in his eyes. I know the fallout from something like this would be much harder for you as a woman than me, and I waited till after the championship fight finished. No one can contest you didn’t win the cup with your own sheer skill. But now that it’s finished, I can’t hold back anymore. Your jaw drops from Max’s heated confession, never having guessed the handsome blonde would reciprocate your buried romantic feelings. And I don’t mean some one night stand or summer fling, he continued boldly. I want to be your boyfriend, I want you all to myself properly.
You must have had too many G&Ts, you hear yourself say distantly, cause you’re not even a little bit cute and shy like you normally are off the track, Verstappen. He smiles gently, knowing you were using humour to deflect from the swirling emotions within you. Maybe, he murmurs, bending down to rest his forehead against yours. Or maybe you look so fucking gorgeous in this red dress I knew I couldn’t hide how I feel anymore. When he feels your hand graze his chest, pulling him just a bit closer, he knows what you want. Pressing the gentlest of kisses to your glossed lips, he pulls back to make sure you still wanted more.
But he didn’t need to have any doubts, because you’re staring up at him sultrily, desire having darkened your own wide, doe eyes. This time you’re pulling him back onto your lips, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders so that there’s not even a millimetre of space between you too. He groans against you as the months of tension come to a head, the two of you languidly exploring each others’ mouths with your tongues.
Even if you’d woken up the next morning regretting your decision, there was no way you could turn down Max’s offer of a relationship. Because even if you had still hated him, the sex that night on the yacht has been so incredibly mind blowing, by far the best orgasm you had ever experienced, that you knew you’d never meet anyone who could fuck you so perfectly again. So you hesitantly said yes, let’s try this for real, Max over a late hungover brunch the next morning. The rest had been history - the two of you had spent the last 7 months in a secret relationship, not wanting the chaos of the media to ruin your relationship before it could even start properly. Max has proven time and time again you’d made the right decision saying yes, being the perfect boyfriend, dedicated to all your needs and wants, spoiling you endlessly and making you laugh whenever you had a bad day.
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Sometimes things were hard, of course. Like when you two had tensions during a race, your private relationship doing nothing to dampen the competitive spirit you both shared. But you’d both make up after, whether it be with a long debrief and strategy talk on how to avoid an incident next time - or your personal favourite, some angry make up sex. Like you’d suspected, Max was an absolute sex god and you two enjoyed a very healthy sex life, exploring each others kinky preferences. So when you’d have to be away from each other for long periods, busy with planning and meetings at your separate team bases, your boyfriend came up with a solution once the nudes and phone sex didn’t quite hit the same.
Filming yourselves during sex seemed like a certain recipe for disaster, given how famous the two of you are and the consequences of anything got leaked. But the temptation was too great as weeks drag on without the touch of your boyfriend - so you agreed, just this once, to try it out.
Well, that had certainly been the plan. But the video had been so so nice to watch again and again anytime your pussy ached for Max that you can’t resist making more. And then last month when your teams had finally given the okay for an official announcement on your relationship, and the media response had overall been surprisingly positive, you two get too comfortable and Max accidentally sent the video over DM to you, instead of the encrypted chat you normally use.
And that was when shit hit the fan.
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No, Max, go away, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to see anyone ever again! The blonde Dutchman sighs he leans his head against the closed bathroom door with a worried expression on his face. You’ve locked yourself in his Monaco penthouse’s bathroom for the past 4 hours, not coming out despite how much he’s pleaded. Please, schatje, he tries again. I know it’s bad, but we’ll get through it together. Twitter had already banned any links of the video and both your PR teams are doing damage control and so many of the grid drivers and journalists were calling out the website that had leaked the tape. Please, I just want to see you, you can’t be locked in there forever and reading all the stuff online alone.
When you don’t reply, only sniffling through the door, he sighs again and slides down the door, making himself comfortable. A few minutes later he hears the door unlock and your red, crying face peeking through. Oh, schatje, he croons soothingly as you drop down into his arms and bury your face in his thick neck. He rubs soothing circles along your back as you sniffle that Everyone’s saying such horrible things, Maxie. How am I going to face going on the paddock ever again?
He reassures you firmly that you two would go hand in hand, united on the paddock with your heads held high, because you’ve done nothing wrong. He’d been doing the media game a lot longer than you and knew this scandal, like everything else, would get blown over with time. After your quiet sobs settle with his comforting words and tight hug, you pull back to look at him and apologise for shutting yourself away and not checking in on him. It’s your leaked tape too, you say anxiously. How are you feeling about it, baby?
He eases your concern again, telling you honestly that in the grand scheme of things, although it was a little mortifying he’s had worse in the media. Besides, it’s gonna be satisfying to crush whichever little fucker leaked the vid, he says vehemently. Any anyone who’s saying any bullshit sexist comments about you sleeping your way into F1 or anything is getting hit with a defamation lawsuit from legal, he declares, making your heart swell from his protectiveness. You still aren’t convinced, though. Are you sure, Max? I remember in that particular video, you can’t see much of my body but there’s definitely a lot of shots of your…
Dick? Your boyfriend finishes with a deadpan expression, That’s fine. Besides, I’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. You know the hashtag Verstappen’s third leg is trending on Twitter now? You giggle at his nonchalance, making Max smile at seeing you cheered up. You’ve finally having processed what happened enough to maybe see a bit of humour in it. True, I suppose it could have been worse, you muse. The Las Vegas video could have been the leaked one. Imagine how batshit the fans would have gotten if they saw the handcuffs were for you, not me. Max laughs genuinely, blue eyes looking fondly at your mischievous expression. The familiar Ferrari fire he adored was back in your own pretty doe eyes.
Or worse, the Barcelona one, you tease as you lead him to the kitchen to start making dinner. Scrolling through hundreds of posts and spiralling was calorie consuming work. I think Twitter would have shut down if they found out Max Verstappen likes being called daddy in the bedroom.
Your boyfriend’s face goes adorably pink as he stammers at your unexpected roast. Hey-hey now, schat, that was just one time okay? You’d just accidentally said it and it caught me off guard-
You grin playfully, giving him a kiss on the cheek because he looked too cute to resist. Sure, baby, so off guard you lasted 5 seconds after that. His face goes even pinker, reaching the tips of his ears now as he shyly looks away. For all his fierceness on the track, you loved how sweet the Dutch Lion was off it. Giggling, you put him out of his misery by handing him a knife and tell him to get to work chopping the tomatoes. You knew no matter what came your way, you would be fine with Max by your side.
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A/N: okkk so what did u guys think at my first attempt at a social media AU ahaha. You know I love to yap I fear I included too many Twitter screenshots, I ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY. Anyway this was super fun pulled me right out of my writers block!!! Hope u enjoy xx
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