#and he pulled out a maxi pad

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I just think he's neat

[httpsserene]

I have been having SUCH a thought since the Thigh Riding, and I NEED to tell you.

We know reader has been loving Max and Charles’ thighs, but have you seen those silicone thigh toys? They’re basically ridged pads you strap to your thigh and…well you can guess what they do with them.

I just- I feel like it would elevate it, their sweet girl opening up to the world of toys whilst in the comfort of something she loved.

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞 | 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 | 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞: 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞

summary: all my (terrified and oversensitive) homies hate vibrators!! max and charles introduce you to something better.  content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. vibrators. thigh riding. sex toys. non-penetrative sex. edging. praise kink. corruption kink. dom/sub undertones. coming untouched. sub!charles. sub!reader. dom!max. pairing: max verstappen x charles leclerc x fem!black!reader word count: 2.4k words.

author’s notes: this is from december 2023, jesus christ. about fucking time right, @vetteltea? this has been haunting me in my sleep ever since this hit my inbox, now it’s y’all’s problem too < 333 psss, next post will either be toasty part two (toto) or a smau xxx

(if you’re unsure about what these specific thigh toys are, don’t worry, i would link an example but idk if that would get me put in tblr jail and i’m on thin ice with my mentions, tags, and even dms not working :| look up “grinding pad sex toy” to get an idea of what i’m referencing in this fic. )

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You’ve deeply repressed the memory of your orgasm-deprived outburst that kick started your sexual exploration with Max and Charles. Vaguely, you can remember saying that you possibly considered the thought of buying a vibrator to get yourself off since riding your pillow wasn’t enough anymore.

[…you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one)...]

[…you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy!  i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating…”]

Charles was right. You didn’t have to go streaking or buy a sex toy to get off, your boyfriends took care of you. That night, you were satisfied by riding Max’s thigh. Then a few days later, you learned how to pleasure your men with handjobs. A couple of days after that you were fingerfucked into an altered mental state, then followed up with watching Charles cum untouched as Max ate him out. You had Max’s mouth on you next and weeks later in a Spanish villa, you allowed them to take your virginity.

The five days you three spent in that villa were filled with pleasure, as Max and Charles fulfilled every request of yours without question. In bed, on the sofa, from the kitchen floor to the dining table, from the hot tub to the bathroom shower, horizontally, vertically, parabolically, from dusk to dawn—the two years of relationship you had without sexual intimacy had been put to rest. The understanding, the vulnerability, and the trust rooted within everyone had led to that moment. It was worth it.

So, one would understand your confusion when Max drops the idea of sex toys in conversation with you and Charles on a random morning. With an audible noise of confusion, you tilt your head up at him adorably, and genuinely question, “Why would I use a toy when I have you two?” Your tummy tightened when that sentence caused Charles to look at you with dripping molten eyes and Max’s mumbled grumble about corrupting your innocence goes unheard. Minutes later, you were bent over the kitchen island, the skirt of your sundress shoved up around your waist, and your white panties dangling off of one ankle as they took turns eating you out. Needless to say, you forgot about the subject of conversation the moment they knocked your legs open.

Eventually, they do manage to have a chat about toys without it devolving into sex. 

“Schat,” Max grabbed your attention, the clink of his silverware resting on his plate further interrupted your focus on spinning pasta onto your fork.

“Yes, Maxy?” you responded, meeting his eyes with a smile.

“After this discussion, we will never bring this up again if you are adamantly against the idea,” you brought your fork to your lips, munching away with a look of puzzlement, the Dutchman continued, “But, Charlie and I were talking…and we think, that—with your approval, of course—that there’s a chance you may enjoy experiencing and learning about sex toys, and how good they can make you feel. As long as either one of us is using them on you—and, with your hatred of them—they’re also not vibrators.”

You choked on your pasta, Charles making a noise of surprise as he rushed forward to pat you on the back.

Airways now cleared, you looked at Max with watery eyes, “There was not enough foreshadowing to let me know where the conversation was going. And, fuck vibrators. They are way too strong.”

The Monegasque’s eyes brightened with humor, “Hm. I think vibrators are nice, especially when they’re in Max’s hand.”

“You’re a menace and a freak,” the older man responded, “And she’s chronically sensitive. Don’t tease.”

Charles tugged at one of your curls, chuckling as he saw the brown skin of your cheeks redden.

“I mean,” you paused to play fight with your boyfriend, batting his hand from your hair cutely, “You guys haven’t been wrong with anything you’ve introduced me to. If you think that I might enjoy something…I guess I can try it. And, you’ll stop if I tell you to, right?”

“Always, mon ange.” “Of course, liefje.”

“Okay, then. I just don’t think there’s a toy that I’ll like?”

A smirk spread across Max’s lips when he glanced over at Charles, like they knew something you didn’t. His blue eyes were alight with humor as they looked back at you, “Let us worry about that.”

You did such a good job of letting your boyfriends “worry about sex toys” that you ended up forgetting the conversation happened. Until tonight, when you walked into your bedroom to see Charles on the bed completely naked, save for—what appears to be, a pink silicone pad strapped around his tanned, muscular thigh.

You freeze in the doorway, mouth parted, struggling to process the sight in front of you. The brunette is ruined. His hair is damp with sweat, strands of curls stuck to his forehead, and green eyes moist with dried tear tracks painting the ruddiness of his cheeks. His lips are bitten red, swollen, and moist with his spit—Max’s too. The bruises start on his collarbone, deep red marks brush along his clavicle and pecs, and there are visible imprints of teeth around his right nipple. Traces of Max’s unforgiving grip are painted on his waist, thumbprints obvious to your eyes. His cock looks painful; burning red, twitching randomly, the vein on his underside raised, and precome has been leaking out of his tip for a while if the puddle by the base is any telling. 

Employing his skill for perfect timing, the en-suite door opens, and Max steps into the room with a bottle of lube in his hand. 

“Charlie?” Max coos, walking over to the delirious man, pouting sympathetically when the brunette’s head falls forward to rest on his hip, ruffling his hair and scratching along his scalp. “Aren’t you going to thank our pretty girl for putting an end to your torture?”

“–rci, merci,” the exhausted man mumbles messily. Max hums in content, dropping the lube on the bed and gesturing for you to come closer. Tripping over your feet in haste to follow his order, you ask softly, “How long have you had him like this?”

“Around forty-five minutes,” Max shrugs, dismissively, “He was getting too excited as we waited for you to join us.”

Swallowing shakily, you inquire, “Excited about what?

“Your new sex toy.” 

You gasp and Max’s eyes flutter across your face as he gages your reaction. Max sees you shift on your feet and casts look downward; your thighs are pressed together for friction—you’re aroused.

“Do you want to try it?”

“Yes, Max.”

The Dutchman smiles at you, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and leans forward to press a multitude of chaste kisses on your lips, laughing lowly when you whine with displeasure as he ignores your attempts to deepen them. “You’re being so brave for me. Take your clothes off, pretty girl.”

Bare in the blink of an eye, you look at your older boyfriend for his next direction.

“Our Charlie,” Max starts, helping the fucked-out man sit up straight, “Has been so kind to volunteer his thigh to you. Strapped around it,” he pauses to slap his hand down beneath the toy, smirking at Charles’ delayed yelp, and squeezing the meat of his muscle warmly, “Is a ridged silicone pad designed to simulate the vulva and clit as you grind. The waves and spikes of silicone are malleable and soft,” Max drags his finger across them demonstratively, “and are smooth and bouncy as you slide across it, allowing for a continuous rubbing sensation—I did my research.”

Giggling nervously as your eyes flicker between Charles’ cock and the daunting pink slab of plastic, “I can tell. Um—I just ride it like it’s his thigh?”

Max nods and offers you his hand for stability as you move to straddle the pad. Charles blinks, raising trembling hands to rest on your hips, staring at you with hazy eyes. You sigh, tangling your hand in the nape of his hair and using it to pull him forward into a kiss. His lips are clumsy but eager as they move against yours, whimpers muffled into your mouth and beard scratching along your chin. He tries to tug you downwards to have you firmly sit on the pad but is halted by Max.

“Greedy, both of you,” Max snorts, picking up the forgotten bottle of lube and uncapping it to lightly drizzle some on the toy's surface, “I know you get wetter than the ocean but, better safe than sorry.”

He pats you on the ass in encouragement, and you shake your head with shame as you lower yourself down on the silicone, draping your arms around Charles’ shoulders and pausing to acquaint yourself with the new feeling. The chill of the lube startles you but aside from that, the toy is…comfortable. The raised hump sits perfectly against the curvature of your cunt and already, you’re anticipating the focused stimulation it will provide. 

Max sits behind Charles and the bed sinks under his weight, barely jostling the Monegasque’s thigh. However, it’s enough of a movement that it causes one of the soft spikes to clip your clit, pushing a quiet noise of surprise from your lips.

“Oh,” you murmur airily.

Trying to hide the quirk of his lips, Max leans forward to whisper directly into Charles’ ear, “This seems awfully familiar to the first time she rode my thigh, no?”

You whimper audibly, knowing that he purposefully spoke loud enough for you to hear his words. Refusing to fixate on Charles’ reply, you circle your hips, breath catching as the various textures set your nerves ablaze. You understand that Max added the lube to prevent any unwanted roughness—it’s rendered unnecessary as your arousal starts to leak. Digging your nails into the younger man’s back, you rock your hips back and forth slowly, moaning freely as the waves are a consistent friction against your labia. 

“It’s–fuck—i-it’s good.”

“Stuttering already,” Max tuts, and you feel the heat in your cheeks radiate down to your bouncing chest. Your rhythm roughens; dragging yourself along the toys in desperation, toes curling at every random press of the spikes against your outer lips and clit. Charles gasps in relief, your quickened pace causing his cock to bounce and rub against his abdomen in his puddle of precome. He gets lucky on every few grinds when you undulate forwards and his cock bounces to glide against your navel. His hands grip firmly around your hips and shove them into a jerkier motion, keeping you close to him so his reddened length can be soothed against your skin constantly. 

The change in angle and position has caused the spikes to form a barrage around your clit and the waves drag over your entrance, teasing you with the feeling of being opened up. Dropping your head to hide your face in Charles’ neck, you muffle your pitchy moans and shrieks by tasting the sweat beading on his skin.

“I’m jealous, schatje,” Max speaks, “I almost want to pull her off of your thigh and have her sit on my face.”

Fresh tears spill from Charles’ eyes as he begs, “N-no-no—mmmph—please, ‘m close.”

Your hips start to rabbit against the toy, and the texture between your legs is overwhelming but too pleasurable to consider slowing. 

Max yanks Charles’ head backward with a fist in his hair, “Do you want to cum, Charlie?”

The man in question babbles incoherently, chest trembling from lack of oxygen as he continues to sob; he tries to nod, but can’t, thanks to Max’s firm grip. The burning of his scalp doesn’t subdue him, it encourages him to keep tugging so the pain floods endorphins through his body. 

“You know what to say,” Max states calmly, the words sending shivers down your spine. Your own body starts to tingle as you taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue; you’re too delighted at the new sensations to let any embarrassment build from reaching the edge quickly.

Charles struggles to get his tongue, lips, and vocal cords to cooperate. You see a frantic look light in his eyes, sure he’s trying to puzzle out what language he’s sane enough to communicate in. He manages to verbalize sounds that could be likened to Max’s name if you brush past his whimpers and cries.

“Plea–,” Charles tries to push the word out pitifully, “—ah, sss'il te pla—” his cock bumps against your navel, and his words cut off, eyes rolling back before he can finish begging.

A humorous laugh leaves Max; this is the easiest way Max has ever made the younger man lose his speech. He softens, and gives into the pillow prince, “You did so good, Charlie. You tried your hardest for me, yeah? You begged so prettily tonight, almost as pretty as you look. Such a good boy, Charles. You can cum.”

Strikingly, the approval works for both you and Charles. Twin cries of pleasure erupt as your orgasms blur your vision and burn through your muscles. The feeling of Charles’s cum splattering against your stomach sends another burst of light through your skin as you continue to grind fitfully on the silicone pad. A lake of wetness puddled on the poor man’s thigh, that squelches as you move. 

Charles is rendered silent as his cock continues to pulse even when the flow of his release ceases. Max brings his hand down to squeeze at his base and Charles releases a choppy scream as it pushes another couple of ribbons out of him. His hips thrust upwards with every string, forcing hisses of over sensitivity to slip from you as it drags the soaked pad against your cunt. You would happily crawl off his thigh, but you haven’t regained feeling in your legs yet. 

Thankfully, Charles deflates back into Max, his cock finally softening and slowly losing some of its flush. Tears start to leak from his eyes again, his chest shuddering through little sobs. You whimper softly at his tears and Max pulls you both to rest comfortably in the bed, as he shushes you two through the comedown. When the tears, shivers, and shakes halt, a pleased tilt of lips rises to Charles's face as his eyes dance between you and Max. 

The Dutchman unclips the toy from Charles’s thigh and smirks at the wet peeling noise that sounds.

“So…I assume this toy has your approval?”

© httpsserene2023

[prettymonegasque]

Something about Max screams fucking you raw on the kitchen counter

Max Verstappen x Reader

A/N: I would gladly be Max Emillian Verstappen's little housewife. No questions asked.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, HEAVY BREEDING KINK, Lactation Kink, Housewife Kink, just a lotta kinky shit tbh, Unprotected sex (you're way too fucking young to have kids), Fingering, Oral f! receiving, Implied oral m! receiving

Waffles. That's the only thing on your mind since last night when you and Max watched The Great British Bake Off before bed. You woke up earlier than usual to finally satisfy your craving. You put on some soft jazz and moved around the kitchen in your bra and joggers. You cherised these quiet moments far away from all the noise and the chaos. You were so deep in thought, you didn't hear your husband padding towards you. You heart almost fell out of your chest when a pair of arms wrapped around you.

"Max! You scared me" You gasped as he just nuzzled in your neck. "It's 7am why are you up baby?" His voice was deeper than usual. "I need waffles" You simply shrugged. He hummed and his arms started trailing up until they reached your breasts. You hissed in pain. Max's eyes shot open at the sound of your discomfort. "What's wrong liefje?" "I'm ovulating Max. My breasts are insanely sore." You didn't notice how Max's cock stood up at your words.

You and Max have talked about kids and decided to try after the end of the season. But Max Verstappen was not a very patient man. As you grabbed the waffle maker, Max started nibbling on your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses and slowly pushing your bra strap away for more access. You didn't take long to figure out what was happening.

In the flash of an eye, you were on the counter as Max got to work removing your joggers. He slowly kissed his way up from your ankles. He chuckled seeing your soaked panties. He slowly pulled it down with his teeth while staring into your eyes. You moaned at the sight. "Fuck baby, all of this for me?" He spoke against your pussy. "Yes Maxie. All for you." You gasped as his tongue got to work. Licking and slurping on every crevice, he knew your his pussy like the back of his hand.

He inserted two fingers, scissoring you and getting you prepared for what was to come. Despite fucking like bunnies everyday, you could never get used to his girth. The second he nudged your clit with his nose, your orgasm washed over you like a torpedo. You barely had a chance to speak before you came all over his face.

"So nice and ready for my cock huh princess?" Max got up from the floor and got rid of his boxers. His cock slapped on his stomach, making you drool selfishly. He held you tight as he slowly entered you. A loud moan tore out of you. After a few small thrust, he looked at you silently asking for permission. You knew this was what you both wanted and nodded.

Every little piece of restraint in him crumbled and an animalistic moan ripped from his throat as he fucked you raw on the kitchen counter. He thrusted into you mercilessly. You body shook at the intensity and your nails were piercing his back drawing blood. "Is this what you wanted schatje? Me fucking a baby into you. Fuck baby you would look pretty with your breast all swollen with my baby's milk and god I can't wait to suck on it." He sucked on your nipples ruthlessly rehearsing for the future. His suckling felt like heaven on your sore breasts.

You cried as he continued thrusting into you. He pulled your nipple with his lips before letting it go. He kissed you with so much love and adoration. "Shit baby. I'm about to cum. Do you want my cum huh baby? Do you? " He taunted you as his thrusts continued wrecking your pussy. "Yes Maxie! Give me your baby. Wanna be a good little housewife for you" You were on the verge of passing out. Your orgasm washed over you twice and your husband barely faltered. He was on a mission and you wanted him to succeed. Max let out a gruttal groan as he came in you. You felt his cum filling you up. You were both a sweaty mess and your foreheads touched. "Are you okay baby?" He cupped your face and placed a chaste kiss. "I'm great" You whispered. He slowly pulled out you and walked over to the bedroom to grab a cloth.

When he came back, he definetely didn't expect to see you fingering yourself pushing his cum further in. He moaned as he got ready for round 2. You knew at that moment you weren't gonna get your waffles for a while. But you got something way better to stuff in your mouth.

[giuseppe-yuki]

who is that?

max verstappen x ragdoll cat shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.9k

warnings: suggestive content, curse words, jealous!max

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: who is that cat that max is playing with in the rb garage that is not you?

picture credits from pinterest :)

sitting on an elevated ball cat bed that was custom designed with max’s emblem on the side, it wasn’t hard to see that you were a little spoiled. hell, you even had your own minifridge stocked with fresh fish, veggies, fruit, and meat that max specifically ordered for you. at first, you had advocated against having your little corner of the red bull garage, not wanting to take up too much space, but max had convinced not only you but also christian to build the little cat corner, because who could ever say no to a three-time world champion? 

now, you were sitting daintily on the soft cushion of the bed, watching max finish the last of his fp1 laps. to no one’s surprise, he had the quickest time, being faster than charles by a third of a second. 

feeling a bit hungry, you let out a few mewls, sending a few of the engineers scurrying your way. ha, you thought. i have them wrapped around my finger. 

“you hungry, little kitty?” one of the engineer asks, petting your head. 

you blink your signature blue ragdoll cat eyes at her.

immediately, she jumps up, and strolls to your mini fridge. gingerly, she takes out some pre-prepared raw chicken out of the refrigerator, along with a couple of strawberries. after cutting up both items into small enough pieces with scissors stored on the side of the fridge, she sets the food in a small bowl in front of your cat bed. 

you jump off your elevated bed and walk a few laps around the engineer’s legs, rubbing your fur against her legs in a show of appreciation. the other engineers all coo in adoration, tilting their heads and smiling at you. you approach the bowl on the ground and gobble down the chicken and strawberries, quick. 

deciding you want pets now, you hop into another engineer’s lap and purr, which evokes him to start scratching your chin. but before he could give you any more pets, max pulls into the garage along with checo, signaling to you that fp1 was over. the engineer sets you back on the ground to start assessing the rb20 with everyone else. 

to your left, hannah schimtz strolls in from the pitlane, one hand clutching her headpiece and another holding a clipboard. you pad over to her through the chaos of the garage and jump onto her leg. she chuckles before setting down her things on a counter and picking you up. she gives you a few pats on the head, earning her a meow of happiness from you. gianpiero lambiase appears out of nowhere next to hannah, but you don’t mind as he starts stroking your fur. you nuzzle into hannah’s team kit in gratitude. 

when you lift your head and look across the room, you see your boyfriend has already gotten out of his car and standing next to checo. checo is animatedly talking with his hands, occasionally gesturing towards his car, but max is not looking at him. he stares directly at you in hannah’s arms, cool blue eyes staring you down. its filled with a familiar fondness, but it is also tinted with an emotion you don’t see often- jealousy. 

he turns and walks towards you, leaving checo looking at his retreating figure with a confused look on his face. (poor checo, you think.) 

“i’m going to hold my cat now,” he says pointedly to hannah, emphasizing the “my”. he snatches you out of hannah’s arms and holds you gently to his chest. you think you can hear his heartbeat through his sweaty fireproofs. 

turning on his heel, he yanks the driver radio earbuds out of his ear, one-handedly throws it on the counter behind his car, grabs you tight, and bolts out of the garage towards his driver room. 

“don’t you think that was a little much back there, maxie?” you question, lifting your head off his chest and peering at him. 

“umm, no, not really,” your boyfriend says. he squeezes you closer to him on the bed in his driver’s room, tangling your legs together.

you thread your fingers into max’s, using your other hand to fiddle with his fan-made mv1 bead bracelets and trace the patterns on his silver cartier bracelet. “if i may,” you start, lips close to the shell of his ear, “i would say…you were a little jealous back there- snatching me out of hannah’s arms. i just wanted a few pets, that’s all.” 

he pouts, scrunching his nose. he pulls himself away from you and adjusts himself on the bed, laying on his side and propping one hand on the side of his head. you can see the dark spots on his pillow where his head was, leftover droplets of water from getting out of the shower. he adjusts the simple black shirt that he pulled from his drawers a few minutes ago, and blinks at you innocently. 

“no i wasn’t,” he defends himself. “i just simply wanted to hold my pretty girlfriend after racing hard on the track after fp1.” 

you roll your eyes. “sure baby,” you giggle. he was such a lousy liar. it was kind of cute seeing him jealous though. you lean closer to him, laser focused on his soft lips. “just know that you’re the only person that can do this-” 

before you can put your glossy lips on his, max’s phone starts to buzz. 

he curses, pulling out his phone. “who the fuck is calling me?” 

the caller id lights up, showing the words ‘christian horner’ in blaring white letters. 

he scrambles off the bed, and turns to you. “i’m sorry, i have to take this,” he says apologetically. “i will be back, though.” he gives you a wink before walking out of the room.

lying on the bed by yourself, fix your hair a bit before pausing. “no way christian fucking horner just cockblocked me!” you say aloud, giggling to yourself.

two hours before fp2 starts, you find yourself in the paddock bathroom. you smooth down your hair, reapply your makeup, and start smothering lipgloss on your lips when you hear a voice behind you. 

“hey there, you’re max’s girlfriend, right?” a girl in a pretty patterned tube top and jeans smiles at you, tilting her head in question. 

“oh, yes, that’s me!” you respond, smiling back at her. before she can respond, you reach your hand out, and pluck a white feather off the back of her top. “you had a feather stuck on the back of your top by the way,” you explain to her, tossing it in the trash can next to the sinks. 

“haha thanks, i have no idea how that got there!” she says, scratching her head. she then reaches out her hand. “i’m oscar’s girlfriend by the way. nice to meet you!”

you strike up a conversation while she touches up her own makeup, even exchanging numbers. 

she was in the middle of explaining a funny story how she apparently “stole water” from the red bull motorhome when she pauses and points to a spot near your shoulder. 

“there’s like a pretty big bruise on your shoulderblade!” she says concerningly. “is everything alright?” 

you look at yourself in the mirror, and sure enough is a bruise, small enough to not be seen from far away, but too big to cover up unnoticeably. god, you were gonna kill max on sight. 

you struggle to come up with an appropriate excuse to tell oscar’s girlfriend. “i- um was kind of clumsy and bumped into a shelf in max’s driver’s room, and like- a giant vase art piece thingy fell on me!” 

she gasps in shock, “omg, what? i hope you’re okay now!”

you nod your head quickly. “yeah, i’m totally fine,” you say. “the vase didn’t even hurt that much.” 

after covering the hickey bruise with at least a half a gallon of concealer, you hurry over to the red bull garage. max must be a little worried, considering you were gone a little longer than expected because you were talking to oscar’s girlfriend. to your surprise, max is sitting on one of the data analyst’s chair, dangling a toy fish on a string over the head of a ragdoll cat. the cat bats at it, meowing.

“what the actual fuck are you doing? and who is that?” you burst out, marching over to max. this better be a prank, you think to yourself.

to your surprise, there is not a hint of held-back laughter on max’s face- only shock. “wait what?” he says, stunned. “if you’re here..then who is…?” he trails off. the cat sits on the ground between you both, blinking its blue eyes innocently. 

GP walks up to you and max, not noticing both of your shocked faces. he bends down and picks up the cat, cooing. “i know one of the engineers fed her earlier, but you don’t mind if i feed this one a bit of fish do you?” he doesn’t wait for an answer before stalking off to the fridge with the cat. 

you turn to max, eyes blazing. 

“i swear! i thought that was you!” he whispers to you frantically.

by the time fp2 was over, you were already back in max’s driver room. the door busts open, and in runs a sweaty max. he starts rambling (or should i say maxplaining?) the second the door is open- “omg, baby where is the cat? after fp2, i talked to gp and he said that you left with ten minutes left in fp2 with the cat? please please please tell me you did not kill the cat, i swear i did not know that it was not you! it was a random stray cat that somehow found its way into the paddock! i won’t even touch another cat ever again please?” 

he turns the corner of his driver’s room to find you in your cat form snuggling on the bed with a sleeping ragdoll cat. you turn to blink your glittering blue eyes at him while keeping a paw protectively around the other cat. 

your boyfriend sits down on the couch, relief oozing out of him. he gives both of you some head scratches. “i really thought you took the cat and killed it or something,” he exclaims. he then heads to the mini cooler next to his rack of race suits and pops open a can of red bull. when he turns back around, you are now sat next to the cat, running your hands over its soft fur.

“you really think i would do that, maxie?” you say, raising an eyebrow. 

he goes back into panic mode, trying to defend himself. “no, no, no, i just meant-”

you cut him off, laughing. “relax, baby, i’m just messing with you. besides, i think we have a new member in our family now! what should we name him?” 

max sighs with relief, and comes to sit next to you on the bed. he says the first name that pops into his mind. “how about we name him jimmy?” 

you raise your eyebrow for the second time. “jimmy?” you say incredulously. “you want to name the cat jimmy?”

“okay, okay,” he says, holding his hands up. “how about…sassy? that cat was really sassy with me when i found it in the garage! that’s why i thought it was you!” 

“what is that supposed to mean?” you say bewilderedly. 

before max can answer, the cat yawns loudly in your lap and nuzzles close to you.

“you know,” you remark, changing the subject,  “i’m honestly really glad you found this little kitty.” you lean over and give max a peck on the lips, tasting a hint of red bull. 

an idea hits you. “hey, why don’t we name him redbull?”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby @madkohi @ralshatos

[ketaundkrawall]

Code Rood ☽｡⋆ Joost Klein

Summary: after your period cramps get really bad, your boyfriend proposes something to help ease the pain.

Warnings: smut (18+!!), period sex, cramps, blood, unprotected piv, oral (m! receiving), established relationship, Joost loves reader just so much, readers so insecure but he makes it better 🫶🏻, Joost calls reader liefje bc I think that’s just so adorable, afab!reader, no use of Y/N, rpf, NOT PROOFREAD IM LAZY OK 😭

WC: 1.6k

A/N: so hello I’m not dead 🤠 I combined two requests I got in this one. And btw reqs are always open I’m just so slow at writing atm bc work gets the best of me lately 😭

18+/rpf under the cut

You watched the sun slowly settle, drowning the sky into a beautiful orange color. Listening to the birds chirping outside and feeling the last breeze of the warm summer air hitting your exposed arms. It would’ve been a beautiful and relaxing evening with your boyfriend. You both would’ve sit outside on your balcony and watched enjoyed the last rays of the summer sun, talking and smoking and just enjoying yourselves.

But your period had other plans.

So that’s why you were curled up on the couch, a hot water bottle on your stomach, eyes closed and mouth distorted in pain.

Your day had started pretty good. You had breakfast with your boyfriend, got some work done and took a nap. And that was when a sharp pain in your lower abdomen woke you up. A sharp pain shooting through you again as you realized the red spot on the covers and internally groaned. With a sigh you got up to get yourself cleaned up before turning your attention to the covers. Lucky for you, you could get rid of the blood spots completely.

Over the course of the afternoon the pain got worse. You couldn’t even move anymore, you were just laying on the couch with a big night pad on and tried to focus on whatever was playing on the TV.

You must I’ve dozen off because the door closing pulled you out of your slumber. Stretching you slowly sat up and smiled softly as Joost made your way over to you with a bag full of things to help your pains.

“Hey.” He said softly and kissed your forehead. “Feeling any better?” You sighed. “A bit maybe.” Joost handed you the bag with the goodie’s over. He knew exactly what you needed on your period. Chocolate, your favorite drink, more sweets, pain killers and two maxi packs of pads.

“Thank you.” You whispered and felt your eyes watering. Stupid period always made you emotional as fuck. Quickly you tried to dry your eyes but Joost had already noticed them and just sat beside you and pulled you into his side. “You’re welcome.” He whispered and pressed another kiss to your head.

You relaxed into him and soon you both were entangled with each other. You on top of Joost, one leg around his hips and the other between his legs as he held you tightly. That’s what you loved so much about him. He was always there for you, no matter how bad you felt.

Joost knew you hated being on your period. You always told him how disgusted you were with yourself and how much your hormones made you hate yourself that time of the month. But he wasn’t disgusted with you, by the blood, as you always said, he didn’t think you got more unattractive or whatever you told him as well. No. To him you were still so beautiful and gorgeous. Period or not.

“It’s normal.” He had told you when you when you first got together years ago and you had your period. “I don’t mind.”

“Liefje?” Joost whispered and made you look up. “Yeah?” He pressed a kiss to your lips which took you by surprise but made you kiss him back instantly. After a few seconds he pulled away. “I got an idea. Read about it online.”

You raised your brows at his words. “What idea?” You watched as his mouth turned into a sly smile. “Orgasms are supposed to reduce cramps. Thought we could try it?” Joost said and waited for your reaction.

Opening your mouth and closing it again you looked at him as if he just punched you across the face. Wouldn’t that be disgusting? He would definitely be disgusted with you, the devil on your shoulder said. No he loves you, he wants to help you, the angel on your other shoulder chirped in.

Your hard was beating fast and your mouth went dry as you nodded. “Okay.” You whispered. “But how are we gonna do it? I don’t wanna ruin the sheets or anything, and-“ Joost shushed you up with a kiss.

“You go to our bedroom and undress. I’ll be there in a second okay?” He said, brushing hair out of your hot face. So you did as he told you.

Sitting on the edge of your shared bed you looked up as he came in with a lot of old towels you barely used anymore, mostly to clean. Putting the towels on the mattress, Joost quickly spread the out so everything was covered before turning his focus back to you.

Coming to a stand in between your legs you looked up at your boyfriend who was cradling your face in both of his hands, leaning down to pull you into a soft kiss. He then pressed you down onto the bed, hovering over you and taking your clothes off with ease until you were lying under him in only your panties.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Joost whispered against the soft skin of your neck, making goosebumps form all over your body as you let out little breaths of desperation.

His mouth wandered lower to your chest, kissing and nibbling at your pebbled nipples. “Joost- oh fuck!” You moaned as he bit down on it softly, want pooling between your legs. “Feels good baby? Want my cock?” He asked breathily against the skin of your stomach.

You were only able to nod.

Joost got up and made sure your eyes were on him the whole time he undressed and you would be lying if you said that it didn’t turn you on. Fuck he was definitely a sight for sore eyes, standing naked in front of you, cock hard, his mushroom shaped tip tip angry red and leaking precum.

Mouth watering you slipped down from the bed on your knees right in front of him, hand wrapping around his thick shaft. “Fuck me.” You whispered more to yourself as your tongue tarted out to collect the salty precum on your tongue and moaning at the taste. Cramps long forgotten by now.

“That’s my good girl, suck it baby, just like that..” He moaned, his hand on the back on your head urging you on to take more of him into your mouth. And you did, head bobbing up and down his length. Your eyes watered some but you didn’t care, you focused on taking as much of him as you could.

Soon you could feel Joost twitch, an indicator that he was close so he pulled you off his cock with a heavy breath. “Lay down. Panties off.”

You did as you were told and slipped out of your underwear, trying to ignore the blood on the pad. You closed your eyes and laid on your back, Joost hovering over you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. A moan left your lips as you felt him, your arms wrapping around him as you opened your eyes again, looking right into his blue orbs.

“Ready?” You nodded.

Pressing his lips to yours, Joost slowly pushed inside your wet cunt. Letting out little whimpers he soon was all the way inside you. He watched your face move from displeasure to pleasure. “Move.” You whispered and he did just that.

Pulling almost all the way out he then snapped his hips back forward, filling you up again. “Oh my god fuck!” You yelled out in surprise, scratching his back softly. Joost couldn’t help but grin at your direction.

Your mouth was slightly agape letting out little breaths as he kept fucking inside you. “Feeling good liefje? God love the way your pussy grips my cock so tightly.” He groaned. “Open your mouth.” Joost instructed you, and you did.

Feeling his fingers in your mouth you closed your lips around them and sucked, twirling your tongue around the digits. After a while he removed them again and moved them down to your clit, circling them around the bundle of nerves until he had you writhing and begging to cum underneath him.

Joost could barely hold himself back. He was so close, your moans turning him on so much he could explode right in that moment but he wanted to make you feel good first. “Come on baby.” He egged you on. “Cum for me.”

And that was all you needed to hear. His husky voice and the way he hit that one spot inside you just perfectly making you come undone around him, walls spasm around his dick.

Your orgasms triggered his. Snapping his hips forward one last time, his movements stilled and you felt him pump his load into you.

Both of you breathing heavily, a thin layer of sweat covering your bodies as he pressed his lips to yours, pulling out.

Whimpering at the loss of contact you pulled away. Joost smiled softly at you as your eyes tarted out to look at the towels beneath you.

It looked like something straight out of a slasher movie. Everything was covered in blood, even parts of Joost. You could feel your cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry.”

Taking your face into his hands, Joost made you look into his eyes. “How about a shower?” Gulping you were just able to move your head yes. “Good. You go get everything ready and I’ll clean up here.”

A small smile played around your lips. “Okay.”

An hour later, Joost had cleaned everything up and joined you in the shower, both of you were curled up on the couch, snacking some stuff he bought earlier and watched your favorite movie.

Your hand was lazily running through Joosts hair. “Still got any pains?” He mumbled, almost asleep. Chuckling you shook your head. “No. Thank you.”

—

A/N: thank you guys for reading <3 I appreciate you all sm *gets emotional a tiny bit*

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid {6}

Summary: It's Christmas Eve which means eating out and going home for secret Santa. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, oral WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five

Christmas Eve Your spacious penthouse seemed small when it was filled with the egos of a dozen formula one racers. Lewis, Charles and Pierre lounged on the sofa watching a basketball game on the tv. Carlos, Logan, Daniel and Lando were at the wet bar competing to make the best cocktail while Oscar judged them, and not just on the cocktails either. Fernando was using Esteban and George’s height to hang Christmas decorations around the apartment.

The rest of the drivers would have come but other commitments had kept them from joining you for the festive celebrations. You had a little present ready to be sent at midnight and you knew the video would only make them wish they could be with you even more.

Footsteps padded along the hall before your bedroom door opened and you caught Max’s eyes in the mirror as you applied a vibrant shade of lipstick. “You look beautiful.”

You rose from the vanity seat and turned slowly to show off the dress completely, blowing him a kiss when you faced him again. “Thank you, Maxy.”

He curled an arm around your waist, his hand meeting your skin where the backless dress left you bare, and he tugged you against him. “Ready for dinner? I’ve been told the appetiser is to die for.”

“That is high praise from a man who would be happy with a bag of Doritos. Will you tell me where we are going?”

He smirked as his hand drifted down over the material that covered your ass. “Just wait and see.”

The restaurant was unassuming with an unmarked door, and if it wasn’t for the seven sports cars lining the street you never would have known you had reached your destination. You never saw the kitchen, or the staff, as you followed Max and Lewis to the only door that had light spilling from it. You were beginning to doubt it was even a restaurant until you reached the room and found a large round table set with mouthwatering scents permeating the air.

“There’s a seat missing,” you pointed out as the men took their places.

“How could we forget you, darling?” Lewis chuckled as he held a hand out to you.

“We have one for you right here,” Charles said, swiping the middle of the table that rotated at his touch.

“Are you wearing anything under that pretty dress, ma chat?” Pierre asked as he toyed with his plump bottom lip.

Max’s hands ran down your thighs before dragging your dress up until it reached your hips, a collective sound of pleasure answering the question. Lando turned Max’s chair around and offered his hand to steady you as you stepped up and onto the table.

“Are the chefs aware this is a BYO first course?” you teased as you sat down and reclined back on your elbows.

“No,” Max chuckled as he took his seat and spread your legs. “But we have napkins for when you get too loud.”

Lando’s hand ran up your calf, drawing slow circles over your skin and Lewis placed your heel on his shoulder, kissing your ankle. At the opposite end of the table Pierre took your hand and tugged you flat on your back so you could reach his collar. Tugging his tie, you pulled him in for a kiss that inhaled the gasp that came when Max ran his tongue along your slit.

Hands caught the bodice of your dress and bared your breasts, deft fingers teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. Your eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure from their worship and you didn’t know whose kiss, touch, lick or bite belonged to who as you writhed in ecstasy.

Your mind was already a dizzying mess when the room spun and gone was the ticklish beard that had burned your thighs when Max feasted between your legs. The new mouth that sealed around your clit was just as skilled as he sucked and licked you into a frenzy, but the cheeks that pressed to your inner thighs were smooth and gentle on the heated skin.

Your back arched as your muscles tightened and your legs tried to close before new hands spread them wide. “Fuck, George, don’t stop, please…”

Your needy whines grew louder until Nando grasped your jaw and opened your mouth to shove a napkin in. “Shhh, corazón,” he soothed as he stroked your cheek. “We’ll give you what you want, just not yet.”

The table turned and the orgasm that was within reach faded with a frustrated cry. Their taunting laughs only made your core clench as you squirmed as you impatiently waited to see who’s seat you would stop in front of next.

“Sounds like you need some help, sweetheart,” the young American drawled, his fingers running through your wet folds. 

“Typical All-American hero to the rescue,” Lando joked to your left.

“Please…” you begged through the napkin as you reached for Logan’s hair. His smirk disappeared between your legs and bliss returned with more stars dancing across your vision than there were on his flag.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as the pleasure mounted and you were rewarded for your patience with a mindblowing orgasm. Still, he didn’t stop his ministrations as the waves rocked through you and hands pinned your hips down while they drove you to overstimulation.

The tower clock down the street chimed as midnight arrived and you grinned as you eyed the stack of presents under the tree. “Please, can I open just one?”

“If you open one, you have to open them all,” Max replied cryptically.

“I’m fine with that,” you hummed much to their amusement and he patted your hip with permission. You tested your steadiness as you climbed off his lap and found your legs had regained their strength. Your boys had really done a number on you in the restaurant, they were surprised you were even still awake.

Kneeling on the floor beside the tree you grabbed a very neatly wrapped box with a large silver bow in the centre. You gave it a shake and felt something move inside but there was no noise to indicate what it was. Turning it around you found no name on it and frowned. “Is this one for me?”

“They’re all for you,” Esteban said, sharing a smirk with Charles who then said, “You should be able to guess who they are from.”

“Aha, secret Santa,” you giggled before reaching for the biggest gift first. You tore the silver bow open and flipped the lid of the box before plucking the ruffled crepe paper away. “Oh, wow.”

The guys had gathered around and they chuckled at your reaction as you wrapped your hand around the shaft of the dildo. Your fingertip traced the delicate veins that your tongue knew intimately and you met the pair of dark eyes it belonged to.

“Thank you, Lewis.”

“You’re welcome, darling.”

“That was too easy, go for an average size, but no less important, present,” Daniel said with a grin.

Lewis laughed and reclined back comfortably. “I can’t help that my dick didn’t fit in the same box.”

You scanned the rest of the boxes and your jaw dropped in realisation. “How did you even think of this?”

“We thought you might miss us when we go away for training and testing after the holidays, or miss a part of us at least,” Daniel said with a smirk.

“I miss every part of you,” you assured them as you grabbed another box and tore into it. “But this will make the nights easier to bear until Bahrain.”

You pushed the shredded paper aside to see a fluorescent green cock, a laugh escaping as you picked it up. The head was wider than the shaft and your mouth watered at the memory of the many times you had tasted Lando.

“This is very bright,” you said to him as you stroked the phallus.

“So you don’t lose it,” he grinned proudly.

“Yours glow in the dark?” Carlos huffed as he took it from you and inspected it for himself. “I wish I thought of that.”

“You wish you read the instructions properly,” Lando teased before tipping his head to you. “Someone didn’t know you had to shave before sticking your dick in the mould.”

Max winced along with Oscar and Charles rubbed Carlos’ shoulder patronisingly until he shrugged it off and grumbled, “I still have a bald patch.”

“Would you like me to kiss it better?”

His warm brown eyes lit up at the offer and his hands instantly reached for his belt. “Do you know how long I have had a hard on for?”

“The same as the rest of us,” Oscar muttered as he took the replica of his teammate's dick and marvelled at how realistic it was.

“I can think of a few things to help with that,” you said as you waved a hand over the presents. “I mean, Santa’s already come, so why shouldn’t you?”

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗞 - part ten max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ( fluff ) series summary . . . when the lives of an f1 and WEC prodigies collide, they find out they find out that they’re not that different and carve out a place for themselves in each other's hearts. the commentators from Sky Sports call this Lovers Rock.

( fic master list | general master list ) ( previous | next )

content warnings . . . ( very short smut near the ending/at the beginning of the final scene, very long chapter, mix between smau and prose writting )

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

groupchat: RANDOM GROUPCHAT

direct messeges: MAX + YN groupchat: SPINARDS VROOM VROOM

You’d only been staying with Max for a few days after the fire, but it already felt like you’d lived there forever. Max wasn’t sure if it was because you’d brought your dogs, your vinyl player, and a small mountain of suitcases, or because you’d somehow filled his apartment with this contagious energy that made it feel brighter, cozier. Whatever it was, he found himself looking forward to coming home more than usual—especially today.

Max pushed the door open, carrying a bag with the vinyl he’d impulsively picked up for you earlier. He’d noticed the way you meticulously handled your records, the soft hum you gave when you browsed through his collection to find the perfect track to play while the dogs sprawled out on the rug.

You turned your head as he walked in, Marshmallow hopping up from where Sauce was napping to greet him. “Hey,” you called out, your voice light and warm, the sound pulling an easy smile from him.

“Hi,” he replied, setting the bag on the counter before leaning down to ruffle Marshmallow’s ears. “Got something for you.”

Your eyes lit up with curiosity as you padded over. He pulled out the vinyl—a Beatles song you’d mentioned loving once in passing—and handed it to you, watching as your face shifted into surprise, then pure joy.

“No way,” you breathed, clutching the record, ‘And I Love Her,’ to your chest. “You remembered?”

Max shrugged, trying to downplay the warmth spreading in his chest. “You’ve been playing my stuff non-stop, and I don’t even have a lot of vinyl. Figured it was time to add something you’d actually choose.”

You laughed, setting it on the player before turning to him with that smile that made his stomach flip. “Thank you, Maxie.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling too warm. “Alright,” he said, stepping forward and pushing the coffee table aside, making space in the center of the room. “Now you’ve got to teach me.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Teach you what?”

“How to dance,” he said, his tone confident despite the faint flush creeping up his neck.

You blinked, a small laugh escaping. “Max Verstappen wants to learn how to dance?”

“Don’t make it a big deal,” he muttered, putting his hands on his hips and giving you a disapproving look. “I’m serious. Show me.”

Grinning, you grabbed his hand, pulling him into the empty space. The music started, soft and lilting, filling the room as you guided him. “Okay, just follow me. Step here, then here—make it like a box.”

Max concentrated, his hands awkwardly settling on your waist as you moved, his feet shuffling to match yours. You giggled softly when he tripped over his own step, looking up at him with mock seriousness. “You’re supposed to be good under pressure.”

“This isn’t pressure,” he grumbled. “This is humiliation.”

“You’re the one who asked me to teach you.” You stopped, resting your hands on his shoulders. “You’re doing fine. You’ve got rhythm—it’s just hiding under all that ego.”

He gave you a deadpan look, but the way your laugh bubbled up made him relax. You guided him again, slower this time, and he let himself follow the rhythm, his eyes focused on yours. The moment stretched, the music filling the quiet, and when your head rested on his chest, he felt a strange, overwhelming peace and… yellow, bright yellow, nothing that he’s ever felt before.

After a while, you glanced up at him, admiring how he had his eyes closed as you swayed, trying to ignore the rest of the world and concentrate on you. “You know,” you murmured, “I always go to your races… you should come to one of mine.”

Max looked down at you, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Belgium?”

You nodded. “You’d love it. The atmosphere’s insane, and I could use the support.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then cheek. “Alright. I’ll come.” Max gave in, pressing a final kiss on your lips.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You slipped your arms into the sleeves of your race suit, the familiar snugness grounding you as you adjusted the collar. Across the room, Max leaned against the doorframe, his casual posture doing nothing to hide the way his eyes followed your every move. Lando was perched on the small couch, phone in hand, shooting you an occasional grumpy look as if the mere presence of Max was interrupting his peace.

You see, after asking Lando to join you and Max and after Lando’s initial decline, you had to blackmail the McLaren driver to join you. You needed a third wheel to try and make people think this was more of your friends supporting you, not your single friend who’s rumored to be your lover.

“Kiss for good luck?” you asked Max, who was indeed your lover. Your voice was soft and a little hesitant, shy, your head tilting as you glanced at Max. A nervous smile tugged at your lips, and you tried to ignore the way your heart thudded in your chest.

Max’s lips curled into a smirk as he pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer. “How could I say no?”

As he leaned in, Lando groaned loudly from the couch, throwing his head back for dramatic effect. “Oh, for god’s sake, get a room!”

You turned to Lando with a raised eyebrow, heat rushing to your cheeks as Max’s hand found your arm, holding you close to his chest. “This is the room, Lan. My room.”

Max chuckled softly at your retort, his hand slipping up to cradle your cheek. He pressed a gentle kiss there, his lips warm and lingering before pulling back slightly. Then, as if he couldn’t resist, he leaned in again, brushing his lips softly against yours, the touch delicate yet enough to make your breath hitch.

“For good measure,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with affection, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

You bit your lip, your face flushed, but you couldn’t help the smile that mirrored his. “See you at Parc Ferme?” you whispered, barely audible.

“Yeah. See you there, schat,” Max murmured, his tone as warm as his gaze.

Just as the moment settled between you, the door swung open, and Carlos strolled in, completely oblivious to what he’d interrupted. “Ready to go?” he asked, his tone cheerful as his eyes flicked between you and Max who had shoved you away like you were the plague quickly upon the Spaniard’s entrance.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you managed a quick recovery, stepping toward him with a smile. Carlos had no idea you were staying with Max, blissfully under the impression you were crashing with Lando—a small mercy you’d taken advantage of to avoid his overly curious nature.

“Yep,” you said, wrapping your arms around your brother in a quick hug. Carlos patted your back with a broad grin, but the sound of Lando’s poorly contained chuckle made you tense slightly.

Carlos pulled back, giving Lando a side-eye. “What’s so funny?”

Lando just shrugged, his smirk remorseless. “Nothing. Just... happy to be here.”

You shot Lando a warning look, but he only grinned wider, his eyes flicking briefly to Max before returning to his phone. As Carlos turned to lead the way out, you glanced back at Max, who gave you a small nod of reassurance—not that you needed it, but now that he offered one, you took it—his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you followed Carlos into the hallway.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your voice rang through the radio, high-pitched with joy and laughter as you passed the checkered flag. “Someone kiss me!” you squealed over the radio excitedly, your happiness bubbling over into giggles and squeals as you eased your car over the finish line. The euphoria was electric, coursing through you like a live wire, each cheer from the grandstands fueling the grin on your face.

After completing the cooldown lap, you pulled back to the finish line, only to see Antonio and Alessandro, your teammates, waving for you to slow down so they could join you for another victory lap. You didn’t hesitate, climbing out of the cockpit and onto the top of the car, Antonio already up there with the Ferrari flag billowing in the breeze. The two of you waved it triumphantly as the other Ferrari car trailed close behind, your team creating a moment of celebration for the fans who had been cheering relentlessly.

The grandstands erupted as you waved to the sea of red in the crowd, the Ferrari fans screaming your name and chanting as if the win was their own, which it was. You could feel the pride and love radiating from every corner of the circuit, and for a moment, you let yourself bask in it fully.

When you finally rolled into Parc Ferme, it was pure chaos. The Ferrari team enveloped you in their arms before you could jump in, pulling you into a whirlwind of hugs, pats on the back, and shouts of praise in Italian. It felt grounding, their pride wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You hugged each of them tightly, feeling the weight of the victory settle in your chest.

And then you spotted him. Max stood off to the side, his hands crossed on the railing, watching with a small, pleased smile that he tried to hide. You didn’t think twice, jogging toward him and throwing your arms around him. He caught you easily, his hands steadying you as you clung to him, the weight of the day spilling over into your embrace.

“Congratulations,” he murmured, his voice soft enough that only you could hear. His hand gave your bicep a light squeeze, grounding you further in his quiet support. “I’d kiss you if there weren’t so many voyeurs,” he added, scrunching his nose in mock distaste as he gestured toward the bustling crowd around you. “I will, but after all of this,” he promised softly.

You laughed, light and breathless at his expression, leaning back to catch your breath before you turned to Lando. “You’re next!” you teased, lunging at him with the same energy.

Lando groaned dramatically as you messed up his perfectly styled hair, swatting at your hands. “Why do you always do this?” he groaned, a fake pout on his lips as he hugged you and squeezed you back, though the laughter in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

The celebration was cut short, however, by the unmistakable presence of Carlos, who had been observing the entire exchange from a few steps away. His brows furrowed slightly as he glanced between you and Max, his hug tighter than usual when he pulled you in. “Incredible race,” he praised, his voice warm but his eyes narrowing slightly at Max over your shoulder.

You couldn’t see it, but Lando did, standing between Carlos and Max with a laugh that he barely managed to suppress. He bit his lip, trying to contain the laughter bubbling up, but a soft snicker escaped anyway. Carlos turned his head sharply, giving Lando a questioning look as you stepped back from the hug, oblivious to the silent standoff.

“Why are you laughing?” Carlos asked, suspicion creeping into his tone.

“Nothing,” Lando replied, feigning innocence as he looked between the Red Bull driver and the Ferrari one. “Just... enjoying the moment.”

You gave Lando a playful shove, still too caught up in the whirlwind of victory to notice the tension. “Come on, guys, it’s a good day. Let’s keep it happy.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

After two hours of celebrating and drinking at a club, Max shouted the words in your ears, “Let’s go home,” kissing your neck up to the spot at the back of your ear that had your brain almost shutting down.

“Back to Monaco?” you asked, dazed from the alcohol and his ministrations.

“I have a house in Belgium. Forget the hotel,” he said in your ear, holding your waist as the two of you swayed through the crowd.

You tilted your head as you looked into Max’s blue eyes, lost in thought. The alcohol was suddenly giving you the ability to think, and the only thing you could think about was how beautiful this man was.

The Uber drive to Max’s home in Belgium was a blur of laughter and drunken chatter, the adrenaline of your race win still pulsing in your veins. Max had been more animated than usual, a mix of pride and a little too much celebratory champagne loosening his reserved demeanor. You couldn’t stop teasing him about how loud he’d been cheering for you, his voice cutting through the roar of the crowd, along with the excited Lando, of course.

“You were basically a one-man fan club out there,” you teased as the car pulled up to his estate.

Max smirked, stepping out and opening the door for you. “What can I say? I’m your biggest supporter.”

The house was quiet when you entered, holding Max’s hand as he pulled you along. The contrast was striking compared to the noise of the club. Max flicked on a few lights, guiding you through the minimalist space. His fingers brushed yours as he led you from room to room, drunkenly introducing you to his furniture, the warmth in his touch a stark contrast to the cool, sleek interior.

“And this,” he said, opening a set of glass doors, “is the pool.”

You stepped out onto the deck, the soft glow of underwater lights illuminating the crystal-clear water. “You didn’t mention this earlier,” you said, turning to him with a grin.

“You didn’t ask,” he replied, leaning against the doorway.

Without a second thought, you began unbuttoning your shirt, letting it fall to the ground before stepping out of your jeans. Max’s breath hitched as you walked to the edge of the pool, tossing your underwear off as well because why not, before slipping in with a soft laugh.

The cool water enveloped you, your laughter echoing in the stillness as you turned to him. “Are you just going to stand there?” you asked, reaching your hands for him.

Max chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled off his shirt. Moments later, he was in the water too, swimming toward you with ease. When he reached you, his arms slid under your thighs, lifting you slightly.

“Hi, schatje,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection.

“Hi,” you replied, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned in closer, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Max’s forehead rested against yours as his hands held you steady, his gaze locking with yours. “You know,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the gentle ripples of the water, “I love being your boyfriend.”

Your breath hitched, the sincerity in his tone making your heart swell. “I love you being my boyfriend,” you whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips.

He didn’t say anything more, choosing instead to pull you closer, his lips finding yours in a kiss that felt like it carried everything he couldn’t put into words.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. You stirred first, nestled against Max’s chest, your legs tangled together under the blankets as you traced shapes on his soft and beautiful stomach. How could a tummy be so beautiful, you wondered.

You’d both taken a bath together to wash away the pool water. These were the most vivid memories you had from last night: Max kneeling in front of you as he brought the feeling of euphoria to your body that you couldn’t quite explain. His tongue lapping and sucking at your most intimate parts, eyes looking up at you as if he was ready to throw away his life for whatever you demanded.

Max, feeling like the devotee he was with his tongue between your legs, with his hands on his lap, felt so grateful just to be there, no matter how much his knees hurt from the floor or how much you tugged on his hair. He was happy to be the one pulling such noises from you, even if they were just squeaks of confusion and tiny, tiny whines. He was whining with you too, almost crying from how good you tasted and how much he needed you to touch him that it hurt.

“Morning,” Max murmured, his voice husky with sleep as his fingers brushed gently against your back.

“Morning,” you replied, your lips curling into a smile as you nuzzled closer, your fingers tracing his chest softly.

The peaceful moment was short-lived as both your phones buzzed incessantly on the nightstand. Whining, you reached for yours, squinting at the screen.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, scrolling through the flood of notifications. “We made it onto Twitter.”

Max leaned over your shoulder, pulling you back to his chest. A sleepy grin spread across his face as he saw the pictures of you two from the club—dancing, laughing, kissing. Kissing wasn’t even the right word, and eating each other was not even close to describing what your mouths were doing. “We look good,” he said, smirking.

“I bet Lando is enjoying this,” you said, already opening your contacts to call him.

The line rang twice before Lando’s voice answered, hushed and frantic. “What do you want?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean, what do I want? I’m calling to tell you where we are! Aren’t you worried about my safety? What if I was kidnapped?” You gasped in mock offense, too tired to be actually offended.

“Shh!” Lando hissed. “Carlos is here. And he’s doing all the worrying for me.”

At that moment, you heard Carlos’s voice in the background, loud and unmistakably angry. “What is this about Max and Yn? Is Yn on the phone?”

Max raised an eyebrow at you as you put the call on speaker. Carlos’s rapid-fire Spanish filled the room, his tone accusatory and full of disbelief.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you translated the angry Spanish words to Max calmly, “He’s saying you’re an idiot, that you’re reckless, and—oh, this one’s good—that you’re a terrible influence on me.”

Max chuckled, leaning back against the pillows. “Tell him he’s right about the last part.”

You shot him a mock glare but couldn’t suppress your laugh. “Carlos,” you said into the phone, your tone even, “we’re fine. Just celebrating.”

“Celebrating irresponsibly!” Carlos barked back, his voice so loud Lando groaned audibly, seemingly nursing a hangover.

Max took the phone from you, still grinning. “Carlos, it’s fine. Yn won Belgium. You should be happy for her.”

Carlos’s reply was too rapid to catch, but you could tell from the tone that he wasn’t letting it go anytime soon.

“You know,” you said, taking the phone back and ending the call with a cheeky smile, “we should probably go back to sleep before Lando calls us again.”

Max chuckled, pulling you back into his arms. “Agreed,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s deal with the aftermath later.”

[ihni]

In a world where Neil Hargrove does not exist or is out of their lives or is a better man, Billy and Max has a better relationship, like real siblings.

Which means that the first time she has her new friends over at her house, Billy crashes their little party in the most obnoxious way. Maybe they're hanging out in the living room and playing a game or something, and Billy (dressed in workout shorts and socks only, no shirt, and sweaty and gross from yardwork or basketball or lifting weights) barges in like they're not even there, spreading out on the couch and turning the TV on, volume loud.

"What the fuck Billy?!" Max says, angrily, and tries to pull him up.

But of course he won't budge. "What?"

"Get out!"

"Nah. My show's on."

"I have FRIENDS over!"

He watches them with an unimpressed look. "And I see you've somehow managed to find people even more nerdy than you, Maxi-pad. Well done."

She yells in frustration, trying again to pull him off the couch, but she can barely move him. He sticks his socked foot in her face and laughs when she screams in disgust.

"Billy!! You're such an asshole!"

"And you're a shitbird. Ow!" She claws at him but he just laughs even as he tries to swat her away. "Oooh, is little Maxine trying to show off in front of her new friends?"

Snarling, Max grabs a pillow and tries to choke him with it, but he easily pushes her off so she ends up on the floor, red-faced with anger and glaring daggers. Billy grins at her all teeth, and makes a show out of stretching out in the couch in all his barely-clothed glory.

Max turns to the Party, who has been watching with wide eyes, and huffs "Let's go to my room" before stomping off.

Billy smirks at them as the boys give him a wide berth on their way out, and when the door to Max's room slams shut he yells "Keep the door open, Maxine."

"FUCK YOU BILLY!" is the answer.

"Think of JESUS!"

"GO TO HELL!"

He sinks back into the couch and turns his attention to the TV, but only for a minute or so. Then he gets up and goes to take a shower. He only went in there to mess with her, anyway.

(She gets her revenge when he has a boy over, later. And whenever Billy has his boyfriend in the car when she's there. And whenever she runs into any of Billy's friends. She has many embarrassing stories about Billy, after all. No one knows better than her how lame he can be.)

(Or, just, Billy and Max being annoying siblings, without the hate and fear and resentment. I want that for them. Annoying obnoxious needling gross older brother Billy and seething frustrated loud conniving little sister Max)

[harryslittlefreakk]

drunk in love

a late night talking extra 💓

summary: harry invites y/n to a party celebrating his upcoming final LOT show

warnings: very light smut (pretty much just touchy feely, male masturbation), alcohol use

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: i want this to be me ? if i could have any harry, i want this one 😭 can’t believe it’s nearly a month since i last posted!!! sorry!!

you can find my masterlist here! happy reading 🫶🏼💖

“Harry, seriously!” You were swatting his hands away for what felt like the thousandth time that evening.

“Please. Missed you,” he pouted, opting to wrap his arms around your waist instead.

“I know baby, missed you too. But walking into the party late and together is hardly keeping it on the down low.”

It was Harry’s idea to keep it quiet tonight, for you to be by his side as a friend of Gemma’s and nothing more. His nearest and dearest had flown to Italy to celebrate the end of Love on Tour, and while he knew he could trust the majority of the guests, there were sure to be people who’d sell photos for a quick buck. You were happy to keep your privacy a little longer, but truthfully, you were itching to shout from the rooftops. It had only been a month since you’d met Harry, and you hadn’t even seen him for 3 weeks of that month. But it was the best month of your life.

“Don’t wanna keep it on the down low,” he groaned, throwing his head down into the crook of your neck. “You do, and you’ll thank yourself for it.”

His green eyes were peeking at you through the mirror, hungry and desperate for more of you. If it were any other occasion you’d be straight into bed with him, but you wanted so badly to make a good impression tonight. You were lucky to have Anne and Gemma on your side already, the pair of them taking to you so well that Harry even ended up setting up a group chat for the four of you to keep in touch while he was away. A mother’s judgement was quick and usually correct, and Harry had made it explicitly clear to you that she totally adored you. You were normal, she said. But still, meeting the remainder of Harry’s closest business partners, friends and family was downright terrifying to you.

“Would help with your nerves.”

“Harry, we have to be there in half an hour. You’re not even dressed.”

“Don’t have to get dressed if I’m jus’ going to get undressed.”

“Go next door and get dressed. Or let go of me so I can,” you laughed, turning around to press a kiss to his forehead.

He trailed away silently, feet scuffing on the carpet before he threw himself down on the bed. Always one for the dramatics. “At least let me see what you’re wearing before I go.”

You padded across the hotel room, pulling a metallic gold maxi dress from the wardrobe. You’d worried it would be too much, far too attention grabbing at a party where you wanted to stay out of the spotlight. But Gemma and Joanie had convinced you, and now that you held it up towards the window, you could finally see their vision.

The slowly setting sun was beautiful, gold and pink tones washing across the sky. You’d never been to Italy before, and suddenly it was your favourite place to be. The Mediterranean was good to Harry, the tan he’d picked up since you saw him last now rich and deep. He was glowing so brightly that you swore he could literally illuminate a dark room. Even the tiny beads of sweat on his chest sparkled like diamonds. He was delicious, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for too long. The way his eyes were fixed on you, likely imagining himself doing filthy things to you in that dress, made you weak at the knees. You had, what, 5 or so minutes until Gemma came to collect you? Plenty could be done in that time. But as soon as the idea popped into your head, Gemma’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Get out Harry,” she called. He groaned as he heard her, running a frustrated hand through his messy curls. “You’ll look beautiful, always do,” Harry told you, pressing a kiss on your lips as he moped over to the door. He said a quick hello to Gemma before leaving, knowing that if he lingered around you for any longer, he’d never make it to his own celebration.

“What’s up with him?” Gemma laughed, pointing behind her as the heavy door swung shut. “Needy,” you told her, amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I told you he still throws a tantrum! You think he’s all grown up on the surface, but there’s a stroppy little boy in there still.”

You pulled her in for a hug, grateful to have her by your side. “I’m really nervous,” you confessed, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “I don’t know who Harry’s told what to, don’t want to slip up and ruin it for either of us.” You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, the weight of your nerves finally crashing down on you. You hadn’t wanted to show Harry how anxious you were, knowing that he’d never leave your side if he knew.

“You poor thing,” Gemma smiled, placing a protective hand on your arm as she joined you on the soft bed. “I’ll be by your side as long as you want me to be. Some of Mum’s friends are coming too, so if you need a break from the crazy, they’ll be happy to look after you. Proper British mums.”

—

The venue was potentially one of the most beautiful places you’d ever seen. A rooftop bar with floor to ceiling windows leading out onto a patio, the evening sun casting a warm orange glow over every inch of the crowded room. You didn’t think you could ever get over the views from this high up, even stores and corner shops looked beautiful. In the few hours since you’d arrived in Italy, it had totally captured your heart. You could see why Harry chose here for his final show.

“Ready?” Gemma asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Ready,” you smiled, taking a deep breath as you followed her through the double doors.

There were so many people you recognised, some people you didn’t, and it was genuinely like walking into a weird fantasy. A month ago you were getting ready to see your favourite artist perform, now you were walking into a room of celebrities with his sister by your side. It didn’t matter how many times you went through it in your head, how many times you looked through your pictures with Harry, it never felt real.

Gemma took you to meet some of the band first, Sarah, Mitch and Pauli all huddled around a high table. They greeted Gemma warmly, but when Sarah’s eyes landed on you, she threw her arms around you with almost enough enthusiasm to knock you off your feet. “Y/n! You look incredible,” she grinned, squeezing you tightly. “She’s had one too many already,” Mitch muttered, nodding a gentle hello.

You stayed with them as Gemma went to get you both a drink, listening to their stories of touring and performing in different cities around the world, each tale filled with laughter and joy. Speaking to people who had known Harry on a deeper level for so many years made your heart soar, the same tenderness and care he showed you evident in the way his band mates spoke of him. Just as your eyes began to wander across the room to find him, Gemma returned with two glasses of Prosecco, handing one to you with a warm smile. “Got to keep moving, but we’ll be back,” she told the group, guiding you to some more of Harry’s friends.

—

From the other end of the bar, Harry’s eyes were fixed on you. He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering as he watched you laugh with Sarah and Glenne. The way your eyes sparkled as you giggled, the tiny snorts that slipped out when something was truly funny. He was totally captivated by you. Harry couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming protectiveness, so desperately wishing he could’ve been the one to introduce you to his loved ones. He’d watched as you and Gemma made the rounds, shaking hands and exchanging hugs with his friends and colleagues. You’d mesmerised every single one of them, effortlessly commanding attention as if tonight was for you. He’d had no doubts about them liking you, seeing in you what he did, but there was still a little bit of pride bubbling away inside of him. You were his girl, and you were fitting into his life so perfectly. He may have been a little tipsy, his emotions a little heightened, but right there he realised he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

He started to make his way towards you, silently joining your group with a dorky grin plastered on his face. Your brows furrowed as you looked over at him, rocking on his heels slowly as he stared between the three of you. Sarah and Glenne could only laugh, taking his appearance as their cue to leave.

“Do I have something on my face?” you smirked once you were alone with Harry.

“Little bit of sexy right.. there,” he grinned, reaching out slowly to poke at your cheek. His playful grin widened as he leaned in closer, a tiny chuckle slipping past his lips. "Gonna need to wipe that off," Harry teased, his warm breath brushing over your skin.

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Can’t risk anyone else seeing that.” His finger lingered on your skin for a moment, tracing light patterns before he pulled away, replacing his gentle touch with soft kisses.

“Harry!” you scolded, trying to pull away from him before anyone noticed.

“No one’s looking,” he murmured against your skin, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you closer. His lips wrapped around your earlobe, his teeth grazing the skin as he sucked tenderly.

“Let’s leave, come home with me,” Harry groaned, his voice husky. His hand was splayed against the curve of your ass, his bulge starting to stiffen against your core. Being so close to him for the first time that evening felt like heaven, but you were far too conscious of the amount of people around you. Still, you instinctively turned your head, giving him access to kiss along your neck.

“This is your party, H,” you reminded him, familiar butterflies taking flight within your core as his tongue flicked against your skin. As much as you wanted to give in to Harry, you couldn’t be responsible for taking him away from his own celebration, so many people here for him.

But each movement of his tongue tightened the knot in your core, your walls aching for his touch. His voice, muffled against your skin, whispered, “I know, love. But y’look so fuckin’ good.“

You let out a soft moan as his lips trailed higher, his teeth grazing lightly along your jawline. The pleasure was almost agonising, you couldn’t help arching your back, craving more of his touch. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, the strong scent of spirits mixed with his aftershave, almost enough to put you in a trance.

Harry’s voice was filled with desire, continuing to coax you into surrendering to him. “Can’t help myself, princess. Not when y’look like that,” he murmured, your breath hitching as his lips finally found your mouth, his movements soft yet desperate. His tongue danced around yours, exploring every corner of your mouth as though trying to memorise each taste and sensation.

You gripped onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself. “I want you,” Harry panted as he pulled away, his lips swollen and breath ragged.

You were totally lost in him, your chest heaving as Harry stared deep into your eyes, searching for any sign that he’d convinced you enough.

“That is quite enough of that.” A voice came from behind you, startling you both out of your moment of serenity. You jumped away from Harry to see Anne giving you both the once-over, a hint of amusement dancing across her face. “You,” she pointed at Harry, “keep your tongue where it belongs. You,” she was grabbing a hold of your forearm, “with me.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as Anne whisked you away, consumed by the long forgotten teenage embarrassment of being caught kissing by a parent. “Sorry,” you cringed, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s only a little kiss, love. I just wanted to help you escape him before anyone else saw,” Anne smiled.

“Oh,” you giggled, relief washing over you. With all the sneaking around, you sometimes had to remind yourself that you weren’t actually a disobedient teenager, waiting to be caught after sneaking a boy into your room.

Anne took you to meet her friends properly, the women she referred to as Harry’s other mums. They were exactly as Gemma had described, the exact same personality that your mum had, the stereotypical welcoming British mum. They told you countless stories of a younger Harry - the cheeky little boy who was always trying to make everyone laugh, to the teenager who took every opportunity to sing in his bedroom. It was always weird to you, knowing so much already about someone who was still new to you. Thankfully, everyone in Harry’s life seemed to accept that you’d been a (deranged) fan of his before you started dating. As he’d told you many times, it would be borderline impossible to date someone who had no idea who he was. Unless he dated babies or old ladies, and he’d been very clear that he didn’t fancy dating either of them.

“How did you two meet?” one of Anne’s friends had asked. It may have only been a month ago, but this was already your favourite story to tell. “In a Starbucks,” you confessed, cheeks tinged pink at the memory. “I was actually seeing him at Wembley, and we just happened to be in Starbucks at the same time. He asked me for a napkin and,” you shrugged, “we just hit it off from there.” Even the world’s strongest man couldn’t wipe the grin off your face at that moment. You loved to talk about your meet-cute, the way your heart caught in your throat at the sight of Harry’s rings, the way you ended up basically living with him for a week from that moment onwards. And yet, you couldn’t focus fully, still heated from your moment with Harry earlier.

His touch still lingered on your skin, warm tingles spreading across your waist where he’d pulled you into him. Anne’s friend grinned back at you, your feelings for Harry evident in the way you spoke about him. “Sounds like fate,” she told you, rubbing a hand on Anne’s thigh. “Your little boy all grown up and in love,” she laughed.

You nodded, unable to hide the sparkle in your eyes as you thought about Harry. It really did feel like fate had bought you here, a higher power intervening to lead you to him. As the conversation continued, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Harry across the room. He was dancing with Jeff, and an unexpected guest - at least for you - James Corden. You knew they were friends, you’d watched Harry’s carpool karaoke and every other late late show segment an embarrassing number of times. But to see him here, genuinely friends with Harry was so bizarre to you. You’d never seen him drunk before, and it wasn’t too different from a puppy with the zoomies. His feet moving too fast for his body, his drink sloshing around the glass as he threw his arms around anyone who caught his eye. He just radiated pure happiness, the very definition of a golden retriever boyfriend.

Harry’s eyes met yours as you watched him, the green of his irises darkening the longer his gaze rested on you. You blew him a kiss, laughing as he mimed catching it and pressing it to his lips. It was insane how someone so sexually driven could be so fucking cute. If you met him for the very first time while he was being sweet, you’d never expect what he could do to you in bed. And if you met him for the very first time in bed, you’d never expect how loving he could be. And now you were thinking of him in bed and getting yourself all worked up again.

“I’m just going to nip to the toilet,” you told Anne, signalling your head towards the corner of the room. You purposely walked behind Harry, trailing a light hand across his lower back to grab his attention, sauntering away without a glance back. You didn’t have to look to know he’d be following you. He caught up to you as you reached the entrance of the toilets, grabbing a hold of your hips with his bulge pressed firmly against your lower back.

“Didn’t think you could get away without me, did you?” he slurred against your ear, guiding you towards the cubicle at the end of the corridor. “Harry, babe, I got your attention so that you’d follow me.”

He laughed, locking the door behind him as one hand trailed up your torso. “Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he smirked, eyes landing on your tits as you turned to face him.

“Was doing fine until you played dirty,” you told him, tangling a hand in the curls at the nape of his neck. He pulled you close to him, his mouth lingering dangerously close to yours. All he could think about was ruining you, having you begging for mercy as he shot streams of his hot cum into you, finally fucking something other than his fist. But he couldn’t do any of that here, couldn’t fuck you the way he needed to in a bathroom stall. “I like playing dirty,” he whispered, crashing his lips against yours. He walked you backwards, hands moving to unzip your dress as his tongue danced around your mouth.

He pulled away to help you out of your dress, his cock twitching as you stepped out of it, left in only your tiny thong and heels. “Fucking hell,” Harry groaned, one hand tracing the curve of your waist as he looked you up and down. Your lips were swollen from his kiss, eyes hazy as you watched him undo his trousers. The second his cock sprung out of his pants you reached for it, desperate to feel it again after so long. Harry grabbed your hand, tangling his fingers in yours, denying you a touch. “Can’t fuck you the way I want to here,” he whispered. “Just need you to stand there and look pretty f’me.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as he began to stroke his cock. You needed to come, but you didn’t want to spoil your appetite for him. So if Harry needed you to stand and watch him, a starter before your well-earned main course, you were more than happy to. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he groaned, gripping onto your hip with his free hand. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, he never did with you involved, each stroke only making his core tighten more.

He looked fucking hot. His hair messy, sweat glistening on his neck as he stroked the sweet cock that you’d missed so dearly. Precum was gathering on his tip, his rings clashing together as he grunted and groaned, blown-out pupils fixed on your body. You couldn’t hold in the pants and moans that were forming in your throat, your core on fire as you watched Harry bring himself closer to his climax.

“Turn around,” he drawled, pushing your back down as his tip bumped against your ass, your eyes glued to him in the mirror. He pulled your thong to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your entrance. “Gonna- fuck-” he panted, no time to get you stretched out for his cock before his orgasm started to creep up on him. You shuffled your feet outwards, resting your elbows down on the countertop so he could enter you. He pushed into you quickly, the burn pulling a deep cry from inside of you. “Come, baby,” you pleaded, mouth locked open as your walls closed around him. Harry shot his cum into you, sighs of relief tumbling out of both of your mouths to finally feel your cores connected again, finally have his thick cum deep inside of you.

He stilled, rubbing his hands across your asscheeks, dizzy from the sensation of being deep in you.

The moment was quickly broken by someone banging on the door, and Harry jumped back, the sudden absence of his cock making you a little sad. “Occupied,” he called out, buttoning up his trousers before picking up your dress. “Bastards,” he smirked, bending down behind you to help you back into your clothes. He pressed a kiss to the bottom of your asscheek, moving your panties back over to cover your mound.

“Can’t leave together,” Harry said as his shaky hands did up your zip, still dazed from his orgasm.

“Go,” you told him, pressing a final kiss to his lips. “Need to touch up my makeup anyway.”

—

You could hear Harry’s voice booming over the music as you left the toilets, the rest of the party fallen silent. “Here she is!” he slurred as you came around the corner. Harry was standing on a table, a microphone in his hand as he addressed the crowd gathered in front of him. He reached out a beckoning finger to you, motioning for you to come over. You could hardly reject him in front of all of these eyes, let alone with that cheesy grin calling out to you. “This is Y/N, and f’anybody who doesn’t know, she’s my future wife,” he beamed as you got closer.

He giggled into the microphone, jumping down off of the table on unsteady legs. Harry’s audience clapped at his words, a few drunken cheers erupting. “Louder!” he demanded, “everyone cheer for Y/N!”

He had far too much power with a microphone in his hands, you thought to yourself as he wrapped an arm tight around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple. You knew you were blushing wildly, not at all used to being in the spotlight. You rested your head on his shoulder, hoping it would somehow obscure you from view. “Seriously,” Harry continued, his goofy grin not budging as he glanced down at you, “this woman is the joy of my life. And you’re all close seconds. Thank you f’coming out to celebrate me, the band and everyone who’s worked on this tour. Roll on Saturday!”

He dropped the microphone onto the table behind him, moving his hand to cup your cheek before pressing his lips to yours, harder this time. The rest of the party had started to disperse around the room again, but now it didn’t matter if anyone saw. You were kissing Harry, properly kissing him, in public, and there was very little that could bring you down from that high. As he pulled away, Harry sat back on the table, pulling you to stand between his legs. “M’ so proud of you,” you whispered, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. He was looking deep in your eyes, his stare laced with something deeper than the affection he’d shown you before. “I love y-”, he started, his words cut off when you slapped a hand over his mouth. “Nuh uh, not letting you say it when you’re drunk,” you laughed, snarling at him as he tried to pull your hand away. When he finally managed, he pinned your hands to your sides, turning you around in his arms until your back was flush with his chest.

“A drunken mind speaks sober thoughts,” he chuckled, peppering soft kisses down your shoulder. You could have exploded, physically exploded in that moment. “Harry,” you warned, unable to wipe the smile from your face. He pressed his lips close to your ear, his warm breath washing over the side of your face. “I love you,” he whispered, grinning at you as you craned your neck to face him. “I love you,” you replied, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words finally came out. “Can I take you home now?” Harry smirked, his fingers dancing across your waist. “Please,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours.

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @mema10 @annageeeezzzz @cicicavill7 @drewsephrry @tswiftsgf @ashleighsss @bikestyles @he6rtshaker @prettygurl-2009 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @teammom4 @chesthairrry @golden-hoax @lilfreakjez @swag13r @cursingatdaylight @s-h-e-l-b-e-e

[kokomyass]

JJK Characters ☆ That time of the month...

JJK x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: swearing, crack

featuring: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna

synopsis: in which, the jjk men are out buying you supplies for your period, some with more experience that others....

notes!: in sukuna's part, he is true form and has like a kinda palace thing going on yk....

a/n: thought of this idea, liked it and wrote it!!! I hope you enjoy 💜🍇💜🍇

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

Gojo

"Heyyy babe....so about those pads you wanted me to buy....you kinda failed to tell me that there are pads for every colour of the fucking rainbow!"

You had to use all your will power in you to not start laughing at Satoru through the phone, which would consequently lead him to hold a grudge.

"Satoru, I told you to get the ultra maxi pads with wings, remember? How difficult is that?" you nagged as you heard a frustrated groan through the phone.

"Well which colour is that? Cause there's no way I'm reading allat-"

"Gojo!!" you didn't usually call him by his first name it was an easy way to show your annoyance.

"Okay sorry!! Well, Y/N, there are like 5 different ultra maxi pads! How the hell am I meant to know which-"

"Satoru, with wings."

You heard the line go silent as you heard rustling assuming he had picked the pad up.

"So...um I found it....I'm gonna get myself out of this aisle because thanks to you I embarrassed myself in front of all these experienced women."

All you can do is giggle at Gojo's dramatic ass.

Nanami

You hear the door to your house open as you lay in bed curled over from the pain your cramps are giving you.

You hear your husbands soft footstep approach your bed as you open your eyes slightly to see him bent over cupping your face careful not to wake you up to violently.

"Hello sweetheart, how are you feeling?" you hear his deep, smooth voice whisper out.

"Well...I feel like shit, but now that your here I wanna cuddle with you. It'll make me feel better."

Nanami chuckles as he sat on the bed, extending his arm out to let you cuddle with him.

"Just to let you know, I went out to buy some night and day pads, tampons just in case your in the mood to use them and your favourite snacks to keep you going. They are all here if you need." Nanami said, as he gently brushed your hair as he felt you squeeze tighter.

Nanami looked down as he heard sniffling later realising you were crying after looking down at your face.

"Honey what's wrong? Did I miss something?" Nanami's heart dropped.

"No, the absolute opposite. You always get everything right. Nanami, have I ever told you how madly I am in love with you?"

"Frequently."

Geto

You had sent Geto out to do some period shopping and by that you meant shopping for pads/tampons and snacks.

When you were on your period, you were EXTREMELY snappy and emotional. This time of the month was one Geto feared all the time. One small thing could make you flip out.

"Hey babe! I'm home!"

You were sat on the couch wrapped in blankets as you watched TV.

"I got your stuff babe, snacks, pads and all..." Geto placed a kiss on your head before sitting next you. You took the bag from him searching for your favourite sweets.

"Thank yo-...Where are my skittles, Geto?"

Geto's heart dropped. He had completely forgotten to buy that and he regretted his life choices, but it was too late because you had already started crying.

"Ughh, I really wanted those skittles...why do you always forget Geto!" you sobbed angrily as Geto pulled you apologising profusely.

"I'll go out and buy more baby....I'm sorry...."

"NO. I WON'T WANT THEM ANYMORE!" you shouted at Geto as you stood up angrily walking to you bedroom as Geto sighed letting his head fall back on the couch, choosing to let you come to him in your own time.

Time Skip

You had guiltily shuffled out of the bedroom and sat next to Geto leaning into him as he let out a sigh of relief.

"So, you feeling better??"

"Yeah, sorry babe....I overreacted. My favourite sweet isn't even skittles..."

Toji

"So babe, what size is your pussy again?"

Toji was a man with no shame and clearly no brain. He went out to get pads for you forgetting to ask what type you needed.

"Wh- Toji!! How many people are in that aisle!?" You heard Toji chuckle at your very valid question, given what he had just said.

"Princess, listen, that doesn't matter right now. Just tell me your fucking pussy size."

Before you could scold Toji and maybe educate him you heard another woman's voice through the phone.

"Um sir, just to let you know you are rather loud...and pad sizes are based on the amount of flow not-"

"Did I ask?" Toji spat.

The woman's mouth shut as she spluttered trying to say something back before Toji diverted his attention back to you.

"There is like ultra large....do you want that cause I know how big-"

"Toji don't you dare finish that sentence. Just get me large ones please...and for the record it is based on your flow, so you had no right shut that poor woman down like that."

"I call it what I want to call it, and that's pussy size."

Choso

You currently had a stuttering Choso on the phone who was clearly pretending he wasn't embarrassed.

You had sent him out to get some snacks, hinting that it was your time of the month but you didn't ask him to get pads or tampons fearing it would be too much for him to handle.

"So....um...Y/N, do you....erm do you want me-"

"Choso, baby, please spit it out." you giggled at how flustered he was as it wasn't a common occurrence.

"Do you need...pads...?" he whispered the last bit so you could barely hear.

"What was that?"

"...pads...." you had made out that he said pads.

You let out a loud laughter that could be heard through the phone, shown by the fact Choso was hushing you.

"Y/N, stop laughing! Yes or no? If yes, what type?" you could tell he was trying to be vague.

"Choso you are so cute, yes I would like some please can I have some night pads? I have enough days ones."

"Okay! I got this....okay see you and love you!!" he cut the phone after chanting to himself that he had the power to pick one product off an aisle.

All you could do was chuckle and feel warm at how much he cared for you...even if it was embarrassing for him....

Sukuna

You were giving Sukuna his daily massage in his throne room despite your cramps from your period. You didn't want to tell Sukuna that you were on your period because whenever you did he became a bit too overprotective in a murderous way....

However the cramps were unbearable.

"My Lord...May I be seated?" Sukuna's head whipped around and looked up and down your body before nodding slightly, tapping his leg indicating for you to sit there.

You sat down on Sukuna's crossed legs resting your head on his broad chest as you sighed squinting your eyes at the pain.

Two of Sukuna's arms were wrapped around your waist whilst the other two were on the floor. He tighten his grip on your waist as if he knew you were experiencing pain.

Suddenly a sharp knock was heard at the door.

"You may enter." Sukuna's gruff voice sounded out.

"I have the pads and tampons and foods you requested, Lord Sukuna." Uraume entered with a box placing them at your feet. Leaving promptly.

"It is your time of the month, is it not?"

You eyes widened as you looked back at him to see him looking down at you.

"Y-Yes my lord...how did you know?"

"I keep track in my own manner." you didn't even bother to ask how that was.

You knew Sukuna wasn't exactly the loving type, but you couldn't help but wrap your arms around his neck.

"Thank you, my Lord!" he places one of his hands on your back not saying a word just letting out a huff. After a while he mumbles out.

"It's alright woman...."

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

a/n: I hope that was good and all those true form sukuna fans out there hmu 😜

love you!! 🍇💜🍇💜

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing — Gunther x f!Reader 🖤 Summary — Gunther’s girlfriend can’t stop admiring him. 🖤 Word Count — 2.3k 🛑 Warnings — NSFW. Muscle worship, praise, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, sir kink, cum 18+ 🖤 Notes — Kinklist found here. 🖤 Taglist — In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By — @eboni-napalm Please keep your Gunther requests coming! 🖤 MASTERLIST

Sicily was beautiful. Their villa beside the sea was beautiful. The sunsets and the restaurants and the people were all beautiful. But the only thing she could seem to admire, the only thing she wanted to photograph, was the beauty that was her boyfriend, Gunther. He’d struggled with his weight for a long time before discovering the most compatible diet and exercise plan. Since then, he’d never looked back—broadening his back and shoulders, toning his arms and thighs, hardening his chest and flattening his abdomen. As he became more and more comfortable in his own skin, it started to show in his wardrobe. Gone were the oversized t-shirts and sweatpants, replaced with tailored suits and more form-fitting clothing. He’d caught her staring on more than one occasion, usually choosing to point it out and poke fun at her until she was sure her cheeks would melt off, so since they’d arrived in Sicily, her gawking had become a lot stealthier. Or so she thought.

Take today for example. The couple relaxed on a set of sun loungers near the pool overlooking the sea, sharing a bottle of wine, enjoying the incredible views. Gunther, she suspected, was taking in his surroundings behind his dark sunglasses, seemingly paying her no mind. She slipped on her own sunglasses, laid back against the soft cushions, and though her head was pointed toward the water, her eyes were fixed to the left, on him. Always on him. He wore a white shirt today, a welcomed change from his usual darker shades, and the short sleeves hugged his biceps exquisitely, outlined his pecs and the hard plane of his abdomen. The black slacks he’d chosen were also form-fitting, hardly containing a soft bulge and his thick thighs. She licked her lips, rubbing her own thighs together, and she had no idea how noticeable her ogling had become until Gunther spoke up, not even looking in her direction.

“You know you don’t have to just stare,” he told her, sipping his wine. Her eyes widened behind shaded lenses. Finally he turned to her, grinning, adorable dimples on full display, and her heart fluttered. “You can admire me from over here.” She tilted her head, lips pursed, and the man collapsed into giggles before setting his wine glass on the small table nearby and curling his fingers.

“Oh, you want me to come over there?” she asked. “After you just made fun of me?” Gunther’s smile slowly faded and he tilted his own head, dipping his chin, firing his bright eyes at her, and yes, goddamn it, yes, she was gonna go over there after he just made fun of her.

She stood from her lounger and strolled over to her boyfriend in his. She gathered the loose skirt of her maxi dress in one hand, Gunther adjusting himself as he watched, and she smirked as she straddled his hips and lowered herself until her bare pussy settled on top of the growing lump in his pants. She made a show of lifting the dress to fan it out, and her boyfriend’s eyes descended, widening, and she instantly dropped the material, hiding the lewd scenery from both of them.

“You …” Gunther trailed off, shaking his head, pointing a finger at her.

“Me?” she questioned, brows rising. She grabbed his accusing hand with both of hers, purposefully lifting his finger to her lips. She pressed several soft kisses to the pad, which were followed by a long swipe of her hot, wet tongue from the base of his finger to the tip, and then she sucked the digit into her mouth. Gunther groaned, and it was half arousal, half surprise, and she grinned around his knuckle. “I just wanted to be … extra comfortable today,” she said. She pulled his middle finger into her mouth, gifting it the same treatment.

“And are you?” Gunther asked, eyes fixated on her lips and tongue as they bathed his hand. Her brows rose. “Comfortable,” he clarified.

She feigned consideration, cocking her head. “No, not really,” she replied. She released his hand, placing hers on his firm chest, and her hips leisurely began to rock against his stiffening dick. “You’ve been wearing all these … tight clothes recently,” she purred. “And your arms are just …” Gunther reached up to remove her sunglasses as she glanced down at his biceps, tossing them behind him, one hundred percent of his attention still zeroed in on her. Her hands drifted to his solid shoulders, the thin material of his shirt dampening from his own perspiration, on down to his arms. He watched as she bit her lip, his sharp eyes momentarily switching to her small, manicured hand while she tentatively wrapped her fingers around his bicep. He flexed the toned muscle, and her hips thrust against him, her juices soaking into his pants. “Sorry,” she breathed. “I just—”

“Do you want to kiss them?” Gunther interrupted, gently taking her chin between his fingers. Her blown pupils met his and she really thought he was going to start snickering because the man lived to embarrass her, but his eyes had been consumed by fire and filth. “You do, don’t you?” His smile was small and fleeting. He was rock solid between her legs, and her hips switched from a north-south direction to seductive circles, and it was Gunther’s turn to thrust. “Tell me what you want,” he said.

“I wanna kiss them,” the words tumbled out of her mouth, and she almost tried to catch them in the air so she could shove them back down her throat. Gunther’s brows lifted, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, pulling her down closer to him. “Sir,” she finished.

“That’s a good girl,” Gunther sighed, directing her to his arm. She licked her lips and when she was close enough, she kissed his solid bicep, licked, sucked, nipped. Gunther moaned, driving his hips into her, and she was reminded to move her own. Hot bursts of air ghosted over his skin as she panted, his hand sliding from her face so he could tangle it within her hair. “Tell me what else you want,” he whispered.

She lifted her head after a few moments of mouthing his muscle, their eyes meeting once more. As turned on as she was, she was still able to feel her heart swell with the love she had for her Ring General. “I want … I want you to know how beautiful you are,” she answered just as quietly. Gunther rolled his eyes, a smile growing, cheeks reddening, and he tried to lay his head back on the lounger, but it was her turn to grab his chin. “Don’t do that,” she drawled. He became serious all at once. “You’ve always been beautiful.” She moved across his chest, delighting in the subtle squirm of his body under hers. “Even when you thought you weren’t,” she went on, lips caressing the opposite bicep. The muscle contracted, and she whimpered. Gunther suddenly grabbed her face with both hands and brought it within an inch of his, and they were both out of breath despite a lack of exertion. He searched her face, ending on her eyes, and she melted in his embrace, mumbling, “Sir,” a millisecond before his skillful lips captured hers.

Her hands snuck under the tight white shirt that had started all of this and she lifted, revealing more delicious skin, and Gunther swallowed her moan greedily. He sat them up without warning, arm locking around her waist to keep her stable and in place. She completed her quest of removing his shirt, hands returning to his chest, only this time she added resistance. Because for a moment—just a quick second, I swear—she wanted to look at him, to admire him, as it were. And as she was regarding him with hungry eyes, he pinched the material of her dress between his fingers and deliberately pulled it down until her breasts popped out. She wasn’t even aware he’d done anything until he flicked her hardening nipples, her body quivering, and their eyes met, and hers were hooded, and his were infinite. Their lips collided, sparks igniting and flickering between them just as they had since the first time they’d kissed. She reached between them, and Gunther snatched her wrists, holding them up.

“No, no,” he admonished, shaking his head. Her heart pounded—had she done something wrong? “You have to make yourself cum first.”

She barely caught her jaw from falling into his lap, smiling instead, and resumed rolling her hips, having stopped … sometime. Gunther had that effect on her, always had. He held her wrists tightly, painfully, and the ferocity of her riding kicked into overdrive. He pressed their damp foreheads together. She bit her lip, and she tried—she tried her pretty hardest, anyway—not to avert her gaze from his debauched eyes, but his biceps were like magnets, drawing her attention to them.

“You want to kiss them again?” Gunther breathed. “Hmm?” She nodded, not trusting herself—or maybe she just didn’t remember how—to use her words. His lips grazed hers as he uttered, “You want to worship them?” She couldn’t stop her jaw this time, and her exhale echoed throughout the whole of Sicily, and her hips jerked almost violently. Just like that, her orgasm was easily within reach. “I want to hear you say it,” he continued, tone even lower than before. “Properly.”

With a one track mind and a direct map to the gold at the end of the rainbow, she knew the path of least resistance was the way to go. Her wrists were screaming, she thought maybe she’d have bruises the following day, but why did it feel so good? “I wanna kiss them,” she divulged, and then, much more hushed, “and I wanna worship them … sir.” For the cherry on top, her tongue snaked out of her mouth to lick at his lips. “My Ring General.”

Gunther smiled fondly at the monster he’d created, relinquishing his grip on her wrists. The wrists that had just moments ago been burning under his fingers now seemed to be completely pain free, as her eyes so slowly drifted to the muscle in question. Everything was suddenly in slow motion—Gunther making a fist, raising his arm and bending it at the elbow, bicep bulging. Her teeth clenched and her mouth watered, and a brief moment passed before she latched onto his arm like a vampire devouring their first victim. And it was only seconds after that that she came, scream muffled by the dense tissue in her mouth, and her eyes closed as she rode the waves of pleasure which wracked her body with tiny shudders.

She was still in the throes of her orgasm when Gunther reached between them once more to open his pants, unleashing his rock solid cock. She licked her lips, preparing to raise up and impale herself on that magnificent member, when Gunther effortlessly switched their positions, manhandling her like he knew she liked, and she giggled until he had her how he wanted her—on her hands and knees, bare ass poised, breasts swaying freely—and she arched her back, bucking against him. Wait … when did he take my dress off?

“I thought you might want to watch the pretty scenery while I fuck you,” Gunther told her, sliding the head of his cock along her weeping slit. 

It was a nice sentiment, but she could have been in a back alley somewhere for all the attention she paid once he entered her. She’d never been filled so completely before the Ring General, like his dick had been personally selected for her pussy by the universe itself. She collapsed to her elbows after only a few deep pumps, still stimulated from cumming only minutes beforehand, and Gunther wrapped her hair around his hand, yanking, and she grunted, reluctantly rising back to her hands.

“Please,” she whispered, “please, sir. I can’t …”

“Oh, yes, you can,” Gunther laughed, hand like a vice on her hip as his thrusts became almost savage. “You think I would be fucking you if you couldn’t? Hmm?”

“No, sir,” she whimpered, entire body jarred by his viscous pumps.

“Your Ring General?”

She came. Just like that, she was clenching around Gunther’s cock, quivering, and though there had been time between both orgasms, the intensity of this one made them seem like one long orgasm. There was just something … something about the way he said those two words that lit her world on fire and had her juices dripping down her thighs. 

“Such a sweet girl cumming for me again,” Gunther praised, and her smile alone could have powered a small country until the end of time, maybe even after that, but it was gone quickly as he continued fucking her. She wasn’t sure how much more her pussy could take. 

“Thank you, sir,” she breathed.

“My sweet girl,” he mumbled. “Worships her Ring General.”

“Fuck yes,” she purred.

“Where does my sweet girl want my cum?”

“I don’t care where you cum … I just wanna be able to watch.”

Gunther was silent after that, squeezing her hips and riding her like the world was going to end. He pulled out suddenly, repositioning her again, this time on her back. He lifted one of her legs so he could look at her pussy still drenched in her own cum while he jerked his glistening cock. A few rough strokes later and he was launching rope after rope of his thick, sticky sweetness across her stomach, the last few less powerful ones painting her pussy. She beamed as he hovered over her, his hands pressing into the cushions on either side of her head. 

“Never a moment’s peace with you,” he said.

She snickered. “That’s why you love me.”

[shineon3]

Winter Warmers, Day 21

(can you believe I wrote this at 3am on a whim because I was looking at the prompts again and saw this one? me neither)

Prompt: Squirting / Word Count: 850

Max shivers, bed sheets sticking uncomfortably to his sweaty back. Daniel's hands carefully caress up his thighs, spreading him open. Years ago, he would've felt unbearable shame, would've gotten the urge to force his legs shut and run away from everything, but now? In the tender safety of Daniel's calloused palms, Max feels on top of the word, like nothing can stop him.

The press of Daniel’s tongue against his already soaked core, teasing and curious, pulls him out of his thoughts. When he looks down, the brunette is smiling, wolfish, nuzzling against him, his thumb rubbing circles in the junction between his thigh and crotch. Max chuckles softly, one hand reaching out to card through the older’s unruly curls.

“What's up, big guy?”

Daniel's grin widens. His thumb moves to rub against his clit, and Max bites back a groan, feeling himself get even wetter.

“How many times in a row do you think I could make you squirt, hm, baby?”

“What…? Daniel... That has never happened to me. Like, never ever.”

The brunette frowns, pulling himself up so he's hovering above Max, looking a bit confused.

“What do you mean that's never happened to you, baby?”

Max blinks.

“I mean that I have never squirted in my life. I don't even think that's possible.”

Daniel stares at him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face before he grins, wide and mischievous. Max already knows he's gonna get dragged into something questionable at best.

“What if I could make you, huh? What if I made you squirt, Maxy?”

The blonde can feel his cheeks warm up, the inside of his thighs completely drenched at this point. The low rumble of Daniel's voice never fails to get him all hot and bothered, but it's ten times hotter at least when he's challenging him, teasingly pushing and prodding at Max's competitive side. He tries to maintain a composed facade.

“But what if you don't? How are you gonna make it up for me then, big guy?”

Daniel doesn't reply at first, sliding down until he's nestled in between Max's thick thighs, face to face with his already dripping cunt. He presses two tentative fingers inside, groaning when they go all the way in easily, making the blonde clench around him and moan loudly. He noses at Max's clit, licking up a strip from the top to the bottom before looking up at his blushing boyfriend, smirking.

“You can peg me.”

He doesn't give Max enough time to process or reply, immediately diving down to eat him out, sinful tongue joining the fingers already stretching his pussy out. Max shrieks, startled, his legs closing involuntarily. Trapped between his thighs, Daniel groans, licking at his folds with precision, eating him out like a starved man in front of a buffet while his fingers rub at that spot deep inside him that makes him see stars.

After a while, Max is shaking on the bed, reduced to an incoherent mess of babbles and sounds, back arching off the bed as his thighs squeeze around Daniel's head in a way that should hurt but only makes the brunette groan, rutting against the mattress as he skillfully licks, nips and sucks at Max’s pussy. The blonde can feel something building up distantly, and it only gets closer and closer when Daniel adds another finger inside him, pressing intently against his sweet spot. The feeling keeps building up, up, up, until Max feels that odd, desperate feeling you get when you're about to pee but trying to hold it in. He tries to warn Daniel, to do something, anything, but Max only manages to let out some garbled noises, trashing in Daniel's firm hold.

It finally culminates a moment later, the pads of Daniel's fingers pressed snuggly inside him, as far as they can go, Daniel's mouth suckling on his clit, lightly grazing it with his teeth, and Max feels himself let go, feels the dam break open, and he falls back against the bed like a puppet whose strings were cut off. An impossible amount of wetness rushes out from him, so much that he's afraid it is actually piss, and his legs finally fall back down, letting go of their grip on Daniel.

The older looks as wrecked as Max feels, warm brown eyes dazed and glossy. The bottom of his face is all covered in Max’s fluids. His mustache is wet, his beard is drenched, and he looks absolutely filthy. The blonde tugs him up, bringing him into a messy kiss, moaning when he tastes himself on Daniel's tongue.

“Fuck, Daniel-” He whines, words and thoughts and feelings all jumbled up inside.

Daniel blinks in rapid succession, focusing back on Max, a sly smirk stretching his wet, shiny lips.

“See, baby? Told ya I could make you squirt,” He leans in, nipping at the underside of Max’s jaw. “Now do you want to try and see how many times I can make you squirt in a row, champ?”

Max moans, pulling him down to claim his lips in another filthy kiss.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Hi Kat! I’m in loooove with Elementary. Do you think perhaps you could write about Sarah/ reader bonding where reader helps her with periods, or something like that, where Joel maybe feels a little out of depth (he’d try his best, i think)? I’m sorry if i’m overstepping!! It’s just a thought I had, feel free to disregard, obviously. Love all of your work!

Out of My Depth

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x sarah’s teacher!reader

rating: M (talks of periods, joel being a clueless man who means well, fluff city basically)

wc: 1.8k

series masterlist

“Hey, is everything okay?” You met Joel at the front door of his home, a frantic look of concern on your face as you searched his. He’d called you up just a little bit ago and asked you to come over because there was an emergency with Sarah, and without asking any questions, you got in your car and drove over. “Where’s Sarah? Is she—“

“Calm down, baby,” he breathed out a chuckle. “Sarah’s alright, she just…well, she…started her you know what for the first time, and I—“ Joel was interrupted by the sound of your laughter, his eyes fixed on you as you doubled over, cackling at the fact that at his ripe age of 34 years old, he couldn’t utter the word “period”. “Alright, ha-ha. Go on and laugh at me, but I didn’t know what to do! I’m out of my depth here.”

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, a grin still on your face as you cupped his cheek. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs in the shower. Didn’t know what else to do so I told her to go have a hot shower,” he chuckled, sheepish about his lack of knowledge on this front.

“Do you have any pads? Tampons? Anything?” you asked. Joel shook his head and sighed.

“I thought we had a few more years until we had to worry about all this,” he admitted, scratching his neck. “Gimme a list of what I need to go pick up and I’ll run down to the drugstore.”

“Okay,” you smiled, endeared by his determination.

Joel walked you inside the house and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from his desk before joining you at the dining table. You had to giggle at his eagerness, his eyes wide as he looked to you for guidance. Pushing his hair back, you gave him a kiss on the forehead before beginning to list off the basics: pads for the daytime, maxi-pads for the evening, a box of regular tampons in case she wanted to try that out, some midol, a heating pad, and most importantly, chocolate.

“Jesus,” he whistled at the list, shaking his head. “Like preppin’ for a damn surgery.”

“Yeah, it’s not a fun time,” you chuckled. “Alright, you go out and I’ll wait for Sarah to get out of the shower. Think we gotta go over a few things that I’m sure neither of you want to go over together.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you deeply. “Seriously. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I love you and I love her,” you assured. “It’s no problem at all. I know I’ll never replace her mom and I would never want to. But if I can offer my help and love, I want to, as long as both of you will have me.”

“I’m not plannin’ on shooin’ you off anytime soon,” he smirked, pulling you close for another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now go on, you’ve got a hefty shopping list to get through.”

With Joel out of the house, you waited patiently for Sarah to make her way out of the shower by sitting across the hall in Joel’s bedroom. You managed to find a spare pad in your car’s glovebox, and held the plastic-wrapped square in your hand, ready to hand it over as soon as she emerged.

“Dad?” she called from her bedroom and you quickly stood up and walked into the hall.

“Hey, your dad went out to buy some stuff for you,” you called into her room. The door was cracked open but you didn’t want to intrude. “I have a pad here for you, though.”

“Thanks,” she gave you a meek smile as she opened the door. “How do I…use it?”

“It’s pretty uncomplicated. Just take it out of the wrapper and put the sticky side down on your underwear. You’ll get the hang of it the longer you use ‘em.” You handed the pad over and Sarah accepted it, flipping it around in her hand. “I’ll be downstairs. Have you eaten?”

“No, dad was gonna cook but then—“ she looked embarrassed. “Then it happened.”

“No worries,” you assured. “I’ll call in a pizza. How do you want it?”

“Pepperoni with extra cheese,” she was quick to answer, making you chuckle. “Oh, and dad likes his with jalapeños.”

“Good to know,” you made a mental note of Joel’s pizza order. “I’ll do half with jalapeños.”

“Thanks,” she spoke sincerely. “For all of this.”

“Trust me, I get how scary this is,” you gestured to the pad. “And I know it’s not the easiest thing to talk about with your dad, so, if you have any questions, I’m happy to answer them.”

“Oh, I only have about a thousand, starting with, ‘Is it always so bloody?’” You laughed and scrunched your face up in empathetic disgust.

“Unfortunately, yeah. But you’ll get better about handling it as you go,” you eased her worry. “How about you and I go through some more of these questions downstairs while we wait for your dad?”

“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled.

Downstairs, you called up the pizza place that Joel had a magnet menu from stuck into his fridge, throwing in one of their cookie-pie desserts knowing that Sarah would appreciate it. Sarah joined you on the sofa a few minutes later, dressed in her pajamas and a throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“So, how long does this last?” she asked over the quiet hum of a Fresh Prince of Bel Air rerun.

“About a week. Some girls are blessed and only have to deal with a couple days of this, but it lasts about seven days for me,” you replied. “It also changes the longer you have it. Your period is gonna be really unpredictable for the first few months because your body is still adjusting to all these new hormones and stuff. Make sure you always keep a pad or two on you these next few months because it might strike whenever.”

“God,” she groaned. “I wish I was a boy.”

“That would be easier,” you agreed.

“You should’ve seen my dad’s face when I stood up and there was blood on my jeans,” she chuckled, her simples reminding you of her father. “I think he almost had a heart attack.”

“Poor guy,” you laughed. “When he called me up, he was so scared. I think he thought he had way more time to come to grips with the fact that you’re getting older.”

“If getting older means all this, I’m not sure I want to,” she groaned.

“Amen, sister.”

Joel’s key turning the lock of the front door caught both of your attention, your heads turning in his direction as he stepped inside the house. He eyed both of you hesitantly before cracking a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Everything…okay?”

“Yeah, just giving her the run down,” you replied with a smile. Joel nodded and looked to Sarah as he made his way over to the sofa, sitting down in the space between the two of you.

“Alright,” he started, opening one of the plastic shopping bags he’d carried inside. “Got everything on the list except for a heating pad. We’ll have to get that in the mornin��.”

“Cool,” she gave her dad a smile and lowered her eyes to the shopping bag.

“Alright, so,” he looked to you for help as he started to go through what he bought. “Got some different pads, I don’t know—“

“These are good for daytime,” you aided his explaining, pointing at the package of smaller pads he held up. “Less bulky so you’ll feel better about walking around in them.”

“Okay,” she nodded and accepted the pack into her lap. Joel lifted another pack labeled as ‘overnight’.

“These are better for sleeping. They’re longer and hold more blood.” Both of them shuddered at the word as it left your lips, making you chuckle. “Everybody bleeds,” you reminded. “Women just bleed more often.”

“You’re right,” Joel gathered his composure and tried to be an adult about the situation, though you could clearly see his head spinning over the fact that his baby girl was growing up. “I also got you some…tampons,” he forced the word out of his mouth like it tasted bitterly. “In case—“

“I think I’m good,” she chuckled.

“Respect,” you nodded, offering her an amused smile.

“This is some medicine for your cramps and stuff,” Joel handed her the box of Midol and you noticed his hand was shaking. “Also got you this,” he handed her a bag of assorted chocolate candies, Sarah’s eyes lighting up at the sight.

“I get chocolate?” she beamed, earning a laugh from both of you.

“Yep,” he nodded, eyes flickering to yours. “Oh, there’s one more thing, but it’s in the truck. Gimme a minute.”

Joel got up and walked back outside while Sarah got up to put her new things away upstairs, leaving you alone on the sofa.

When he returned, he carried a toddler-sized teddy bear in one hand and two bouquets of brightly colored carnations in the other.

“Where’s baby girl?” he asked, looking boyish with his smile.

“Upstairs,” you smirked before tipping your head towards the flowers. “Nice touch.”

“Glad you thought so,” he approached you on the couch and plopped down beside you, setting the bear and one of the bouquets in Sarah’s seat before handing you the other. “These are for you.”

“Baby,” you cooed, a touched frown on your face as you accepted the flowers, lifting them to your nose. “What’s this for?”

“For being here,” he replied, soft and sweet. “But mostly just because I love you.”

“Don’t make me cry,” you ordered, playfully stern. Leaning over, you pressed your lips to his in a quick but deep kiss. “I love you.”

“Are those for me?” Sarah beamed as she walked into the room, pointing at the bear and flowers. Joel nodded and patted the seat beside him, welcoming his daughter into his side. “Thanks, dad.”

“No problem, baby girl,” he leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead, his arm draping over her shoulder to pull her into his side. “How ‘bout a movie?”

“Sounds good,” Sarah replied. “Oh, when does the pizza get here?”

“Pizza?” Joel turned to you with eager interest.

“With jálepeños and extra cheese,” you noted, delighting in the way his smile turned into a grin.

Joel shook his head at you as though he was amazed by you and reached over to lace his fingers with yours, mouthing a sinful promise for the evening to come. But for now, the three of you sat there on the couch, curled up, bellies full of pizza and sweets, all content with the family you’d become seemingly overnight.

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[lw77]

Diet Pepsi 💈 (LSxMV)

Chapter 6. - Special Friend

Logan gets a ride home from Max and finds out there's a ghost haunting his house.

Before long, the kitchen fills with more people. Logan nurses the espresso Max made for him as he watches everyone blearily make their way in. When the crowd starts gathering around the island, he feels his stool being pulled and sees Max give him a lazy smile over his espresso cup, drawing him closer to where he stands. Once he’s pressed into Max’s side, Logan tilts his head in question.

“Do you need a ride home, Angel?” Max asks, leaning down slightly.

“No, I think I’m going with Alex and Os—” He turns to point where he last saw them leaning into each other, only to realize they’re no longer there. “Wait, where'd they go? Max, oh my god, they were just here a second ago!” He turns his head around to see if those two somehow ended up behind him, but they have really disappeared.

Max chuckles. “I guess I’m driving you home, Angel. Want to grab your stuff while I try to find Danny to say goodbye?”

Logan grimaces when he realizes his bag is still with Oscar. “Uh, sure, but my bag’s with Oscar.” Dropping his voice to a whisper, he tugs Max down. “You don’t think they’re all in the room, do you? Oh my god, what if that’s why they disappeared—those horn dogs.” Both he and Max scan the kitchen for Carlos and George, only to discover they have also vanished.

They both spot a grinning Fernando, who beams when he sees they realize who exactly is missing in action. “I can’t lie, Angel. I didn’t think they would go for a repeat so soon.”

Logan pats Max’s chest. “Me too, but why do I feel like Fernando definitely knew they would?”

Max holds the hands that were patting his chest and uses them to pull Logan off the stool. “I don’t know, Angel, but it’s his thing.”

Logan thinks back to the night before when Fernando orchestrated the whole room allocation. “Yeah, his thing,” he repeats sceptically as he follows Max out of the kitchen.

When they reach the hallway leading to the rooms, Logan isn’t sure if he wants to walk in on whatever scene those four are making—or not making. “You know, I think I’ll just shoot Oscar a text to bring my bag whenever he leaves,” he tells Max.

Max laughs at his trepidation. “Okay, Angel. Let’s go get whatever we need from our room. We can go find Danny afterward if he’s awake, and then I’ll take you home.”

As Max packs up his swim shorts and other items, Danny walks into their room.

“Good morning, lovebirds!” he exclaims before unceremoniously falling face-first into the bed. A few moments later, he adds, “Oh god, it smells like eau de cum in here. Jesus, did you guys just have sex or something? On these sheets that I just buried my head in?!”

“Technically, we didn’t,” Logan says.

“Didn’t have sex on the sheets? Don’t lie to me; it smells funky.” Danny snaps back.

“Well, we didn’t have sex, right, Maxie?” Logan continues happily. For some reason, teasing Danny is as enjoyable as telling his annoying cousin that Santa Claus isn't real.

“Yes, Angel.”

“See? It must be your own breath or something, Danny.” Logan says innocently, making Danny jump up as he breathes into his palm to test it.

“Whatever, I know you guys did something. It’s not only my Nonna who has a sixth sense for these things; I do too, Logieboy, so I’ll let it slide.” Danny attempts to sound menacing but looks a little worse for wear after the brief gaslighting session Logan led.

“Alright, we’re gonna head out. If you need anything, give me a call, Danny,” Max says, clapping Danny on the back before pulling him into a brief hug.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Maxie pad! Just take our little Logiebear home safe and sound. And make sure you don’t throw your back out, because we need all hands on deck for the job on Monday!” Danny finishes with a 100-watt grin.

Rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics, Max shakes his head and waves as they head to the front door together. Logan, on the other hand, scowls at Danny before scrunching his face in faux disgust and fanning the air in front of him for added effect, as if Danny’s breath really does smell. When Danny catches on, he quickly tests his breath again.

“Goodbye, Danny! Don’t choke on your toothbrush!” Logan calls out with a laugh as he skips out the door, leaving Danny still testing his breath.

Shaking his head, Max opens the passenger door for Logan. “Hop in, Angel,” he says in that familiar, easy tone.

Logan gives a small smile before sliding in. The click of his seatbelt fills the brief silence as Max walks around to the driver’s side, settling in and starting the truck. They pull out of the driveway, the morning quiet around them.

“You’ll need to give me directions, Angel,” Max says, his voice calm. “Unless you want me to take you to your dad’s store—or mine,” he adds with a teasing grin, his eyes flicking briefly over to Logan.

Logan turns, catching that playful glint in Max’s eyes. “You want me in your bed again so soon, Maxie?” he teases back.

Max chuckles, his hand brushing through Logan’s hair before trailing down to rest on his thigh, his touch firm yet soft. “Well, when you ask so nicely,” Max replies, his voice low and warm, eyes on the road but a smile playing on his lips.

Rolling his eyes, Logan places his hand over Max's before he directs him to his house. The cab of the truck fills with a languid peace as they navigate through the morning traffic, lulling Logan into a brief nap.

The truck shutting off jolts him awake, and he blinks, realizing they’ve arrived outside his house. He looks back at Max, a small pout on his lips when he realizes he slept through most of the drive.

“What’s wrong, Angel? Is this not the right address?” Max questions, his tone playful.

Shaking his head, Logan replies, “It is. Guess I’ll see you on Monday?” His voice carries a hint of disappointment at having to part.

Chuckling, Max’s hand comes to cradle the side of Logan’s face, his thumb brushing where Logan’s lip juts out. “We can go to mine, Angel. We don’t have to do anything either. Just sit and look pretty for me while I work on some of our projects. You like that?”

Logan leans his head into Max’s hand, feeling comforted its not just him disappointed at their goodbye. “As much as I’d love to, I think I need to go give a sign of life to my parents so they know I didn’t drown. But… I’d love to do that another time?” He raises his eyes to Max’s shyly.

Brushing his thumb along Logan’s cheekbone, Max smiles softly. “Of course, Angel.” He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the spot where his thumb rested. 

When Max pulls back, Logan instinctively shifts forward, his lips catching Max’s in a brief, sweet kiss. Leaning closer over the cab of the truck, he brings his hands to clutch the back of Max’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair, trying to pull him in closer. The warmth radiating from their bodies fills the space between them, heating up the cab, it makes Logan's pulse quicken.

Max kisses Logan back, the sweetness quickly transforming into something deeper, more urgent. Their lips moving together, soft and hungry, as both try to pull the other closer. Max’s hands slide down Logan’s sides, fingers grazing over his jeans, teasingly tugging at the loops as if to pull him into his lap.

The pressure of the tug makes Logan gasp, his breath hitching in his throat, a sweet, intoxicating sound that Max eagerly swallows down. He breaks away just enough to catch Logan’s gaze—those eyes now dark with desire and edged with frustration—as a wayward smile dances on his lips.

"Why'd you stop?" Logan whines, his disappointment palpable as he paws at Max, hands desperate, trying to pull him back in, the need for more clear in every touch.

“Can’t take care of you here, Angel. I don’t want to send you home to your parents like that, now do we?” Max placates, despite his teasing words.

Groaning, Logan replies, “Ugh, I change my mind. Let’s go to yours, Maxie. I’ll send my parents a text.” 

Max laughs softly. “Angel, I think it’s too late for that. We’ve been out here long enough that I’m pretty sure your parents are looking through the windows at us—yeah, there it is.” 

Logan looks outside to see the living room curtain suddenly close shut. 

“Oh my god,” he exclaims, mortified.

Still chuckling, Max says, “It’s kind of funny.”

“It’s mortifying,” Logan shoots back. With one last peck to Max’s lips, he twists to open his door. 

“I’ll see you soon, alright, Angel?” Max’s voice is gentle yet firm.

Logan nods, his heart fluttering as he steps out into the cool morning air. “Yeah, soon,” he echoes, taking a moment to glance back at Max, who watches him with a smile that sends warmth flooding through him.

When the front door shuts, Logan hears Max’s engine turn on, followed by the familiar sounds of him driving off.

Soon, he hears his mom call out unconvincingly, “Logan, is that you, hun?” as she rounds the foyer.

“Yeah, Mom! Didn’t you see when you and Dad were peeking out the window?” Logan calls out, easily calling their bluff.

He hears his dad yell from the kitchen, “The living room is just drafty, son! That has nothing to do with us!”

Nodding at her husband’s words, Logan’s mom agrees, brushing her arms in a ‘so cold’ gesture. “Your father’s right, hun. That was definitely not us. It might even be a ghost, you know? Grammie did like those curtains quite a lot, probably her spirit” she adds, continuing her unconvincing act. “Now come on, I made some pancakes.” Her tone brooks no argument, silencing any further protests Logan might have had about their excuses.

Following his mom into the kitchen, Logan sees his dad wearing a knowing smile. “So, how was the lake house? Did you boys have fun?”

“Yeah, it was good. Danny had jet skis, so Oscar and Alex were on those all day,” Logan replies, trying to keep it casual.

“And any special friends made there?” His dad quickly follows up, eyebrows waggling playfully.

“Yeah, honey, did you make any special friends?” his mom echoes, a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Okay, you guys keep emphasizing ‘special’ like I make imaginary friends or something. It’s getting weird. Is there a question ‘Grammie’ might have since she moved the curtains so much?” Logan asks, giving his parents a knowing look.

Clapping her hands in delight, his mom is quick to respond, “Oh yes! She said it’s a shame that kind young man who drove you home didn’t come in for her famous pancake recipe.”

“Seriously?” Logan raises an eyebrow, incredulous.

“Logan, this isn’t your mother and I, but Grammie. We are merely her messengers. So please don’t skip any details,” his dad explains, suppressing a grin and failing to keep a straight face.

Logan sighs, feeling the weight of his parents’ curiosity pressing down on him. He doesn’t know if he should be embarrassed or annoyed.

“His name is Max. We spent time together, and he offered me a ride home,” Logan mutters.

His dad springs up. “Max? Our regular Max? The one who called you ‘Angel’ last time?”

His mom gasps dramatically. “Someone flirted with our son, called him ‘Angel,’ and you’re just telling me this now?”

Logan groans, “Can we drop it, please? You wanted some details, and I gave them.”

“Sweetheart, I was going to tell you! He’s the one from Ricc&Co we thought we had to hire to finally get him into Logan’s bedroom. You should’ve seen him in the store—he only had eyes for Logan,” his dad interjects.

“Whatever,” Logan retorts, trying to hide the smile creeping onto his face. “Can I just eat my pancakes in peace?”

“Only if you tell us more about this Max! Your dad saw you flirt; I only saw—” his mom insists, a mischievous glint in her eye before it widens as she realizes something.

“You mean Grammie saw? Anyway, you’ll see him, Mom, just come to the store and watch like Dad does” he concedes, finally cracking a smile as he digs into the stack of pancakes.

Authors Note: I didn't forget this story! I know this is short but the next chapter will be loooooong <3

[jaeclerc]

just 3.1K of my maxiel demon au for the lovely @powerful-owl ! happy birthday <3 i knew i needed to gift you a little something because you are literally one of the reasons I started to publish any of my f1 works!

cw: mentions of death, blasphemy, and tail fucking

“Maximus,” Daniel greeted him, making Max look up from where he was fucking around on his computer instead of sorting some of the files that he was supposed to be sorting “Tell Torger I have a date so the SEED meeting is a no from me but a huge yes from Charles. And you.”

Max rolled his eyes, staring Daniel down. He was still floating from probably showing off to whoever this date was, trying to impress them with the fact that he was The Devil. Max had seen him try and pick up when they went to the occasional Earth-side bar and he always pulled out the floating and tail as if most people weren’t scared of such a figure like The Devil. He was always baffled when it worked and Daniel ditched them to go off and do whatever he did on these trysts.

(Max tried to never think about it, lest he has to address the deep jealousy that crops up)

“I do not want to go, Daniel.” Max sighed, his fingers going back to pecking out the email he had already pulled up to draft to George, Toto’s assistant. He did not want to go but he still would, because he knew that these small pleasures came rarely to Daniel.

He’s spent over 40 years with Daniel and Charles, he knew them better than he would wish to admit. He knew that Charles was riddled with guilt for disparaging his mother and then dying and he still visited her salon when he could, disguised as a random teen.

He knew that Daniel felt so heavy with the burden of what put him in the position to be The Devil that he rarely gave himself any sort of actual happiness. Underneath the cherry red eyes and poker tail, he was scared of what he had to do daily to maintain his existence. He was secretly devastated that he and his fellow soldiers had died in a war that was supposed to end them all, just for another one to pop up 20 years later. He held his responsibility heavy around his neck like a collared dog.

“I know, Maxi-Pad, but: I’m your boss and I want you to attend. It’ll be good to help you get promoted.” Daniel simpered, a sly smile on his lips at his own joke.

“Promoted to what?” Charles chimed in as he walked in, angel dust still on his cheekbones from his angel boyfriend. Max didn’t understand why he always had to be Daniel’s assistant when there were two of them and Charles was perfectly capable of file organizing and emailing.

“To my two favorite demons!” He wrapped his arms around the both of them, dimples showing as he hugged them close. Letting out a pleased hum as he saw the email that Max was drafting

“We are, of course, the only demons you have.” Max snorted, signing his email off and sending it, even with Daniel squeezing him close. The Devil smelt like La Labo and Old Spice deodorant, as well as the Downey softener that he made all of Hell use.

All of Hell was just the three of them plus Charles’ boyfriend, but he still insisted that they all used it.

“Exactly! But, you’ll be my favorite demons out of alllll the demons and angels there are and that’s pretty sweet.” Daniel let go of them as George replied, confirming that it was alright for them to attend rather than Daniel.

“Great, now that we have that sorted: Charles I need your help picking out an outfit.” Daniel pulled Charles along and Max glared at him as Charles mouthed “Sorry!” over his shoulder.

Max went back to fucking around on reddit forums about being in love with your boss and the implications of it. Just for research. Humanity had become so informational since Max had died.

^_^

Max stewed about as he waited for Charles to finish helping Daniel, waiting to pounce on the other demon and quiz him on everything he knew. Daniel and Charles were each other’s gossip partners, but Max was Daniel’s movie and grocery shopping partner so it evened out in time given. But, Charles still always had the information that Max felt like he was missing.

When Charles finally walked out with a faint grin that bloomed into an intense smile when he saw Max, giggling to himself as Max glowered at him.

“Max, you are so silly.” Was all he said when he finally stopped in front of him, hands crossed as he looked quite smug.

“What do you mean?” Max said, huffy and indignant even if he was admittedly acting super silly and like a teenager with a crush. Which was: accurate but embarrassing. He was only a teenager in body, but in his 50s in spirit and yet he was acting pouty and jealous.

“Just tell Daniel that you like him! He adores you, you guys are always going on little trips together, no?” Charles was always so cryptic with him, it was frustrating.

“That doesn’t mean-you know, the world wide web says that it’s unethical for a boss to sleep with an employee.” Charles snorted, flopping next to Max on the living room couch, sprawling out and putting his feet under Max’s legs, which Max just accepted. It was 15 years too late to shove Charles away, anyway.

“We’re not his employees, we are his friends. Seb told me that Daniel was so lonely before we were chosen and that’s why he picked us out. He needed someone like us. Someone like him.” Charles said.

“Insane?” Max asked

“Gay and lonely.” Charles amended, pausing before adding “And insane.”

Max huffed a laugh, hugging his arms around himself, before preparing himself to ask. But, he didn’t have to, Charles already coming out with it.

“The guy’s name is Emiliano.” He said, a small smile playing on his lips “And Daniel really seems to like him. He couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful his, ah, turquoise eyes were.”

Max openly stared at Charles. What a best friend he was, saying all of this to him when he knew how Max felt!

“Come on, let’s get ready for the meeting. We can go out afterwards.” Charles had that look in his eyes that he had whenever he was planning something. Probably going to try and set Max up at the club they frequent, just so he wasn’t stewing so much about what Daniel could possibly be doing with his tail.

Charles had him dressed in his best white button up, the ripped black jeans that hugged his ass and thighs but weren’t too tight, and even let him borrow a pair of Jordan’s that were pristine and baby blue.

He made him wear his best cologne and style his hair in the nice tussled style that Charles said he looked best in, a sly grin on his face the entire time.

Unusually, Charles wasn’t dressed up with him, he was just in a faded t-shirt and some sweats. But, Charles had a face that distracted from anyone paying attention to anything else and he was taken, so he didn’t need to look good like Max did when they went out.

^_^

When Max walked through their transporting door (not to get confused with the door that dropped into the fiery pits), he was surprised to find himself without Charles and in a low lit restaurant, not the pristine marble halls of Angel Court.

He was also surprised to see Daniel smiling at him, horns and his tail out. Just like Max liked him, unashamed and glowing in his pseudo-godhood.

“Wha-We are missing the meeting.” Max was confused. Someone had to show up at the meeting, it was important and they had already pushed it back twice. It was to review their efficiency and what they needed to fix, which was a lot in Max’s opinion.

“No, Charles is at the meeting, Maxy. We are here.” Max frowned as Daniel stood up, walking towards him. He didn’t understand. Daniel was supposed to be on a date with Emiliano with the blue eyes while Max stewed and tried to convince Toto to give them another demon just so Max could do less desk work and more in the field work with Daniel.

“What about your date?” Max asked, voice softening as Daniel pulled out the chair for him and lightly pushed him down into it.

“You are my date, Max Emilian.” Daniel smiled at him, head tilting as he looked Max up and down, making him feel like there were a bunch of ants crawling up and down his spine with the way he shivered.

Daniel sighed, amused as he continued to just look at Max with his red fire filled eyes, tail flicking behind him absentmindedly as he reached out, hesitant. His thumb brushed Max’s clenched fist, rubbing softly over his knuckles.

“You like me, Max.” It was a fact, a statement that Daniel seemingly knew to be true with the way it came out of his mouth. Max flinched, feeling suddenly exposed,

“I like you too. Have since ‘97 when you rescued that cat from one of the sinners we had to confront.” Max was still silent, which seemingly amused Daniel.

“You also leave those forums that you browse open on the computer.” He added, which Max flushed at. He still felt a little out of depth.

“I was only on Earth for less than 20 years.” Max defended, unclenching his fist as Daniel’s hand wrapped loosely around his. “I don’t know these things. I lost my virginity and then died.” He flushed again at that admission. He had only told Charles about that little fact.

“I know all of that already. I also know that you would’ve never told me you liked me because you’re afraid that it’s against company policy.” Daniel’s thumb rubbed absentminded circles on Max’s knuckle, making his brain only able to focus on how wonderful it felt to have Daniel touching him.

“Turns out: I make the policy and I’ve decided it’s perfectly fine that you like me and I like you. It’s actually encouraged.” He continued, pausing his thumb to get Max to actually look at him.

Max felt deranged with how the suppressed want flowed through him, with the hope and adoration in Daniel’s eyes. Those eyes were looking at him, staring him down and Max wanted to lunge across the table and seal Daniel’s mouth shut with his own. He wanted to strip both of them down until all they had on was their matching horns (red for Daniel and gold for Max). He wanted to cry and yell that they’ve could’ve been together since 1997.

Instead he just replied, quite even and simple if he were to say so himself, “Well if it’s not against company policy and my boss is encouraging it, then, of course, as the star employee, I have to do it.”

Daniel beamed at him, lacing their fingers together.

^_^

Dinner was a quiet, tension filled affair. By the time that Max had his polite three bites of dessert, he was ready to go back home and present himself to Daniel like a cat in heat.

Instead, they walked out the door of the cute Italian restaurant and started walking, Daniel swinging their hands between them as he chatted with Max about small things. Max just wanted to get home, back to Hell and the comfort of their shared house so he could kiss Daniel, too nervous to kiss him in public, unsure how people would react around them.

“Are you good?” Daniel asked as he noticed Max start to slow down, dragging his arm out.

“Can we go home?” Max asked instead of answering. Daniel tilted his head before nodding, his face looking a little less excited than he was before. He snapped his fingers and guided Max through the next available door, right into their living room.

“What’s-“ Max didn’t let Daniel finish, gripping his shoulders and pulling him in for a frankly messy kiss, all nerves and inexperience. Daniel relaxed, hands coming up to cup Max’s jaw, tail wrapping around Max’s waist as they fell into each other.

Daniel was a lot more smooth than Max, coaxing him out of his frantic kissing and into something a little more slow and exploratory, gently tasting each other’s mouths.

Max wanted more and more. He secretly knew that if he ever had Daniel, he would actually lose his mind. He would never be able to have his fill, the endless void of want opening itself up to consume everything Daniel could ever give him and that scared him. The enormous feelings that encompassed him whenever Daniel was around. It was a million times worse already, now that he knew Daniel wanted him back.

He was canting his hips into Daniel’s without even realizing, seeking his warmth to soothe the burn of his own need.

“Max.” Daniel chuckled as Max let out a soft gasp, his own eyes flying open as he felt flooded with embarrassment. He had also feared that his desperation would be so easy to see the moment that he was ever in this position. It wasn’t easing his mind that he was right: Daniel was going to make him absolutely sick with love and want.

He pulled away, wanting to curl up and hide from his own arousal, his body pulsing like he had a heartbeat still.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Daniel soothed, his tail still wrapped around his waist, drawing him in. He pressed a kiss to the space under Max’s ear, pulling him close. Max could feel Daniel’s dick against his hip, half hard and pressing against him as Daniel trailed small kisses against Max’s neck, making his head tilt to the side.

“Daniel-“ He cut himself off before he continued, trying to find the words “Let me.”

He pulled away just a little so he could make Daniel feel good but paused when Daniel’s hands covered his, stopping him.

“Don’t worry about that, baby.” Daniel assured him, his hands guiding Max’s hands to his waist. “We have plenty of time for me. I’ve been tortured into watching you wear these jeans for years without being able to appreciate your thighs.” His hands dropped from Max’s to grab at Max’s ass, palming it before sliding down and gripping Max’s thighs.

Max let out a soft sound, his hips twitching into thin air as Daniel gripped him before letting go and unhooking his button and unzipping his jeans with quick efficiency that had to come from practice. Max would ruminate over that later when he didn’t have Daniel’s hands down his pants, cupping him gently through his boxers.

Max had always been secretly ashamed of what he was (or wasn’t, rather) packing. Even the guy he fucked in the confession box had seemed a little shut down when he realized that Max didn’t exactly have the length to fuck him and so he’d have to top.

But Daniel looked down at what his hand was cupping and audibly moaned when he saw Max’s cock jutting out, barely the length of his middle finger and flushed an angry red from his want.

“I’m so-“ Max started and Daniel cut him off with a shake of his head, palming Max and wrapping his thumb and forefinger around him, stroking him as he used his other hand to press his thumb against the mole on Max’s lip, effectively shutting him up.

“You drive me insane with how perfect you are, don’t you dare apologize.” Daniel’s eyes flared with more fire as he spoke. Max’s lips parted, not to disagree but to take Daniel’s thumb into his mouth, sucking in long draws when he couldn’t think of anything else. He needed something to ground himself before he came all over Daniel’s hand from some heavy petting and praise.

Daniel’s tail crept down the back of Max’s boxers, which were now sagging down his thighs, the poker end gently pressing against him as if Daniel was trying to breach him. Max’s hand flew up to grip Daniel’s hair but caught on his horn, grabbing the first thing felt for purchase as the end gently probed against him, his toes curling in his borrowed shoes.

This was going to end embarrassingly quickly if Daniel didn’t stop using everything he had against Max.

Max hissed, sounding muffled against Daniel’s thumb as he continued to use his tail on him, not pushing far, just enough to make Max feel set on fire from his greatest fantasy coming to life.

“You want my tail?” Daniel asked, seemingly blown away by Max’s reaction to some light exploring. Max felt feverish at the suggestion, just nodding as his eyes fluttered open and then shut, the whole image too much for him.

Daniel took his thumb from Max’s mouth, even as Max tried to chase it, worrying that he would spill just how much he wanted every part of Daniel inside of him at once and how much he had fantasized it.

He heard a snap before he felt something cold drip down his crack and over hole, slick and viscous. He realized, probably a couple seconds too late, that Daniel had conjured lube so he could give Max just that.

The first press of Daniel’s tail inside of him had him feeling light headed as Daniel slowly stroked him, thumb pressing the under side of his cock deliciously, seemingly deeply aware of what made Max tick already.

Max gasped as it breached him fully, curled up inside of him and just tad too hot to be fully human, making him swear as he attempted to rock back against it, his fingers curling around Daniel’s horns even more, yanking him down as Daniel gasped as well, mouth instinctively sealing against Max’s collarbone.

Max’s horns were very sensitive and they were only a third of the size of Daniel’s, so he can’t imagine just how sensitive Daniel’s were with how Max was holding onto them.

Daniel’s tail curled inside of Max again and he felt himself hurdling down the cliff into pure bliss as he moaned, spilling onto Daniel’s hand embarrassingly quick, clenching around Daniel’s tail as he came down.

Daniel as breathing heavily, his hand that caught Max’s cum furiously stroking himself off, his mouth still sucking on Max’s neck as he hurdled down after Max, spurred on by the way that Max was stroking his horns, watching with his mouth dropped open in awe.

“Fuck.” Daniel half laughed once they were both breathing normally, his tail still in Max. “We need to see just how much of my tail you can take.”

[mclarengf]

thinking about… max verstappen taking care of you when you’re drunk

note: this blurb came to me as i was taking my makeup off after my bday celebrations yesterday and then i was like ‘good golly, imagine if i had a hot f1 bf here with me rn’ and at first i thought alex but thats soooo obvious so here’s wee maxypoos

---

you’re really drunk. max is well aware of this fact.

the two of you are halfway up the stairs. your arm is slung across max’s back; he is holding your heels in one hand and supporting you with the other.

he’d offered to swap shoes with you properly, eyeing your heels in the club and stating that he could probably fit in them. max is also drunk, of course, but he’s higher-functioning than you, which is why he’s in charge now.

it’s your birthday though, and max isn’t one to prematurely put an end to your celebrations, or let you wake up the next day complaining about your drunken uselessness, so actually, half the blame is on him too.

jimmy meows at you both condescendingly as you pass him, sat in front of your bedroom door. sassy had greeted you when you first came stumbling into the house, then ran off to avoid being trod on accidentally.

when you arrive in the bathroom, max sits you on the edge of the tub, trusting you enough to at least keep your balance here.

he pulls open the drawer under the sink and you hear bottles clink as they’re turned and fiddled with, max trying to read each label.

“here, close your eyes.”

he finally turns around with a wet cotton pad in his hand, pushing his sleeves up as he steps towards you. drunk you still has enough wits to have doubts about max’s capabilities, but you’re so tired, and it’ll probably still be easier for him to fuck up and then fix it, than for you to poke your eye out cause you fell asleep halfway through wiping off your mascara.

when he finally presses the cotton pad to your skin, he’s gentler than you’d expected. his thumb pushes your eyebrow up to pull your eyelid tauter so your makeup remover doesn’t find its way into your eyeball, and he’s quick to catch any drips that do potentially threaten your vision.

once he’s done with that eye, he moves onto the other, repeating each step just as carefully as before, slow movements picking up all the eye makeup he had watched you apply only a couple hours earlier. you don’t know if max realises, but he’s singing something under his breath as he goes. it’s really nice, a comforting tune. you must have heard it before somewhere, but your drunk mind doesn’t entirely care enough to dwell on the question.

you hum at him when he asks if you’re still awake, and tell him not to bother with trying to replicate your whole nighttime routine, because all you want now is sleep.

he finishes your pampering by misting your face lightly and holding your chin up as he applies your lip balm, “all done, schatje.”

“thank you, baby,” you mumble, leaning up towards him for a kiss, “mm, love you so much.”

max decides to leave your shoes in the bathroom to be tomorrow’s problem, and leads you back to your bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot. jimmy’s already slipped in through the crack; turning the ceiling light on reveals he’s found a new hiding spot on top of the dresser.

he’s happy to unzip you and help you step out of your dress, and even happier to see you pull one of his shirts over your head to sleep in. max loves all the small things that show you’re his; wearing his clothes, driving his cars, trusting him to always get you home safely.

“did you have fun today?” he asks, once you’re both in bed and he’s reaching over to turn the light off.

you nod sleepily.

“thank you for surprising me. that was really nice of you, maxie.”

he wraps an arm around you and settles your head on his chest. your legs are twisted together underneath the sheets, as they always are; his free hand starts running through your hair absentmindedly.

“did you see when daniel was dancing on the table? it was very funny. i will show you the video tomorrow,” he promises, “and then we can make fun of him together.”

max’s lisp is more prominent when he’s had a few, all his sibilants bunching up at the front of his mouth. you tell him this, semi-coherently.

he laughs, and then whispers for you to go to sleep.

“happy birthday, liefje.”