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[isuckatwritingsobenice]

A Game of Pride

Notes: modern ish! alive wally! slow burn ish! wally clark x reader! lots of tension!

The bet started as a joke.

You and Wally Clark had always been toeing the line between friendship and something more—the lingering touches, the loaded glances, the way conversations stretched too long into the night. But neither of you ever said it. Neither of you ever admitted what was obvious to everyone else.

So, naturally, Wally turned it into a challenge.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he had said, his signature smirk tugging at his lips, “let’s make it interesting. First one to admit they like the other loses. Winner gets bragging rights forever.”

You had rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “That’s stupid.”

“Oh? Scared you’ll lose?”

You scoffed, leveling him with a glare. “I just don’t see the point.”

“The point,” Wally had leaned in, his voice lower, teasing, “is that one of us is eventually gonna crack, and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me.”

You had smirked back at him. “We’ll see about that.”

And that was that.

Now, weeks into this ridiculous bet, things were getting… complicated.

It started with the subtle things.

Wally had always been flirtatious, but now it was calculated. The way he’d lean in just a little too close when he talked to you, the way he’d let his fingers brush against yours when handing you something. He’d call you “sweetheart” with that lazy drawl of his, his lips curling in satisfaction every time you glared at him in response.

But two could play at that game.

You started showing up looking just a little too good—tight jeans, low-cut tops, whatever would make his gaze linger for a second too long before he forced himself to look away. You laughed at his jokes in a way that made him watch you, his smirk faltering just a fraction.

It was a slow, torturous battle of wills.

And neither of you were winning.

One particular evening, you found yourself at a party—some mutual friend’s house, music blasting, drinks flowing. You weren’t surprised to find Wally already there, sprawled out on the couch like he owned the place, chatting with a couple of girls.

When he noticed you, his lips quirked into that infuriating smirk.

“Well, well,” he drawled, standing up and making his way toward you. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? Afraid I’ll ruin your fun?”

“Sweetheart, you are my fun.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. “Weak attempt, Clark. Try harder.”

He tilted his head, watching you. Then, suddenly, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin. The action was so casual, so effortless, but it sent a jolt of heat down your spine.

“That better?” he murmured, voice lower now, amusement flickering in his eyes.

You didn’t let yourself react. Instead, you leaned in, close enough that your lips were just inches from his ear.

“You’re gonna have to do a lot more than that to make me crack,” you whispered.

Then you pulled back and strutted away, leaving him standing there, blinking.

Score: You – 1, Wally – 0.

But Wally was nothing if not persistent.

One night, after yet another long, tension-filled hangout, he walked you to your door, his hands in his pockets, his gaze flickering to your lips more than once.

“You sure you don’t wanna just give up now?” he asked, voice smooth. “Save yourself the trouble?”

You smirked. “In your dreams, Clark.”

He let out a chuckle, shaking his head. Then, without warning, he stepped closer—too close, his breath warm against your skin.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Then tell me this.”

His fingers ghosted over your wrist, barely touching but enough to make your breath hitch. His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, the teasing was gone. It was just him—earnest, intense, searching.

“If I kissed you right now,” he said slowly, “would you stop me?”

The air between you went taut. Your heart pounded.

For a brief, fleeting second, you almost caved.

Almost.

Instead, you smirked, stepping back and breaking the moment. “Nice try,” you said, voice steady even as your pulse raced. “Better luck next time.”

You saw the way his jaw clenched, the flicker of frustration in his expression before he masked it with a smirk of his own.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “You win this round.”

But you both knew the war was far from over.

It all came to a head one rainy night.

The two of you had been out—just another late-night drive, another excuse to spend time together without acknowledging what it really meant. But then the storm rolled in, and you ended up at his place, both of you soaked from the downpour.

You stood in his living room, shivering slightly, watching as he tossed you a dry hoodie.

“Here,” he said. “You’re gonna catch a cold looking like that.”

You hesitated. It wasn’t the first time you’d worn his clothes, but somehow, this felt… different. More intimate.

Still, you took it, pulling it over your head. It was warm, soft, and smelled like him.

When you glanced up, Wally was staring.

His usual teasing expression was gone. There was something else there now—something raw.

“Wally?” you asked, suddenly breathless.

His hands flexed at his sides. “You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he muttered.

You swallowed. “What?”

“This damn bet,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re killing me.”

Your heart pounded. “You could just admit it, you know.”

“So could you,” he shot back.

Neither of you moved.

The air between you was thick, electric. You could hear the rain pounding against the windows, but it was distant, unimportant. All that mattered was him—his gaze locked onto yours, the tension between you nearly unbearable.

Then, suddenly, he let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head.

“You know what?” he said.

Before you could react, he reached out, cupping your face in his hands.

“Screw it,” he muttered.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t careful. It was everything—all the pent-up frustration, the teasing, the tension that had been building for weeks. His lips were warm, urgent against yours, like he had been holding back for far too long.

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. But then, instinct took over, and you kissed him back, your fingers tangling in his damp hair.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he pressed his forehead against yours, chuckling softly.

“Guess that means I lose,” he murmured.

You smirked, still dazed. “Yeah. You do.”

He grinned, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Worth it.”

And just like that, the game was over. But somehow, you both knew—this was just the beginning.

[candlewitches]

god i love having a dog. just a little (giant) dude who lives in my house who gets dirt on my bed and licks me when im sad and smacks me when i dont get him ice fast enough

[kamitv]

Higuruma’s the kinda guy that has no idea how the hell he pulled you so every time your eyes linger on him a little bit too long, he gets nervous as fuck. Sweat will trickle down the back of his neck and he gulps loudly enough for you to hear it, to which you start smiling at him.

Those wide-set eyes of his carefully drag back over to you and he notices the way you’re staring at his nose. You always gush about how much you love that part of his face and ever since then he can’t control the twitch beneath his slacks as he replays exactly why you love his nose so much in his head.

And hey, it’s no help that you’re sitting right on top of him right now. Your manicured nails that he paid for grazing all over his skin, touching his neck, his jawline, and soon his face too. Then you lean in and kiss the bridge of his nose so softly that it makes him grunt.

“You’re so perfect Hiromi,” You’d hush out to him in that tone you know drives him craze.

Higuruma is left slouching further back into the couch and spreading his legs further apart with a not-so-subtle roll of his hips upwards against you. “Please. That’s all you, sweetheart.” He tries to play it off as if he’s not complete putty in your hands but lord knows when you start trailing your touch down his breath his hitching in his throat.

You smile—a sight he can never get enough of, truly. “Take the compliment, Hiro. I’m bein’ serious…” Your fingers are wrapping around his tie now and his eyelids are all low on you.

Still trying to play it off, this time with a chuckle, he hums. “…Thank you, love.” He’s such a gentleman too, all easygoing and relaxed for you.

Which says a lot considering the kind of man he becomes while he’s fucking you.

Higuruma isn’t exactly mean, nor is he much of a talker during sex but… His cock damn sure says a lot as he later fucks up into you just to hear those sweet praises you give him.

You just love complimenting your man and he loves being complimented—honestly the perfect match for each other.

Every moan of his name that leaves your lips only drive him deeper and deeper inside you. He’s so stupidly in love with you and most times it shows through sex instead of words. Despite how he’ll have you bouncing up and down on his left curved cock for hours, this is the most passion you’ll get from the overworked man.

And when he does open his mouth to speak, your cunt is fluttering around his thick head. Whispering a crisply husk utterance of, “Fuck. Ride me, love. Ride me juuus’ like that. Y-Yeahhh. Shit. Love these fuckin’ hips, don’t stop movin’ ‘em.”

Your moaning grows louder by the second and he’s guiding you up and down his dick, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every perfect slam of your ass down onto him. His groans are so deep that they practically bounce off of the walls of your living room, leading you to clamp around him tighter than before.

Higuruma especially loves your nails for some reason. He can’t get enough of how they feel ghosting his skin every time you move your arms or whenever you move to grab ahold of his face and lean down to kiss him. That’s why he’s always paying for them (even though he secretly loves spoiling you too).

Then, when you get a bit more confident and slip your hands down to hold onto his arms, he groans again. His grip on your hips would tighten and there’s just one wet plop after another while you ride him in earnest.

Which is what prompts filthy words to pour out of his mouth like, “Uhuh, fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl. C’mon, you can do it. Make yourself feel good. Use me baby, use me.”

Again, he’s not much of a talker but sometimes you cause the words to just spill from his lips. While he’s spewing filth out to you, you’re getting closer and closer to a messy release. It’s right as you’re about to cum that he demands you look him in the eyes (no matter the position) so that he can watch them gloss over as you cum all around his girthy cock.

You look so fucking gorgeous when you come undone too—it’s a sight Higuruma simply can’t get enough of. Half the time, he ends up fucking his cum up into you just because of that look alone. You wouldn’t even be able to move or run from his deep thrusts, feeling every inch of his carry against your walls until his cum is fucked all the way in to the point that it’s dribbling out of you.

It’s messy but, he loves it. He loves you. And even after sex, he still doesn’t understand how the hell he’s managed to bag a beautiful woman such as yourself…

[honeyncherry]

taste me now - bfb!rafe

summary in which rafe can’t help himself around his little sister’s best friend, especially after what happened last week

content 18+, suggestive

masterlist

Sarah’s laugh rang out across the backyard as the two of you sat by the pool. She was mid-story, something about Kiara’s latest terrible date, or maybe it was JJ’s? You weren’t sure. Her words blurred together, punctuated by exaggerated hand gestures and little bursts of laughter. 

You were doing your best to listen — really, you were.

But you could feel him. 

Rafe was up on the deck, leaning against the railing like he had all the time in the world. A cigarette balanced between his fingers, the faint trail of smoke curled lazily into the air drifting in soft, spiraling ribbons. And while his gaze stayed mostly fixed on the horizon, you knew better.

He wasn’t looking at you, not overtly, at least. But the occasional flick of his gaze in your direction was enough to make your stomach twist.

The memory of that kiss burned hotter than the relentless summer sun. You’d told yourself it was a mistake. An impulsive, heat-of-the-moment lapse in judgment. You were Sarah’s best friend, for goodness’ sake!

There were rules about these things. 

Rules you’d shattered the second his lips touched yours.

And yet, even now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. About the way his hand had lingered on that sliver of exposed skin between your top and too-short skirt, his touch leaving a trail of warmth that refused to fade. How his other hand settled at the curve of your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheek with a quiet, consuming intensity. As though he were mapping every contour, committing it to memory. And most of all, the way he’d breathed out your name, his voice deep and reverent, like it was something sacred. Something meant to be cherished by him alone.

You shifted in your chair, skin prickling under the weight of your own thoughts. The guilt coiled tight in your chest, its grip almost suffocating. You told yourself again and again that you shouldn’t be looking at him. You shouldn’t even be thinking about him.

But you couldn’t stop.

“Ugh, one sec,” Sarah said suddenly, cutting through the haze in your mind. She glanced at her phone, frowning. “It’s Wheezie. If I don’t answer, she’s gonna call like, five more times.”

She stood, her hair swaying behind her as she made her way toward the house, already pressing the phone to her ear. “I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder.

You nodded mutely, not trusting yourself to speak. The moment she disappeared inside the backyard seemed quieter somehow. All sounds around you faded into an oppressive stillness.

You focused in on the pool, trying to steady your breathing while watching the water ripple in the light breeze. Trying to remind yourself that there was nothing to worry about.

But you felt it before you saw him.

A shift in the air. A weight pressing down on your senses. The faint smell of smoke lingering even though the cigarette had been long gone.

His sudden presence made your pulse quicken, and you wondered how he’d gotten so close without you noticing. “Hey baby,” he husked, his voice soft and hurried as he glanced behind him, checking to make sure Sarah wasn’t returning.

“Rafe—” you started, your voice faltering as you looked up. But he didn’t let you finish.

He leaned down abruptly, one hand gripping the armrest of your chair, the other sliding to the back of your head in one swift, almost desperate motion. His fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck without hesitation, and before you could utter another word, he pulled you toward him, his lips crashing into yours.

Once again, you found yourself succumbing to Rafe Cameron far too easily. The kiss was reckless, charged with the heat and tension that had been brewing between you for weeks. Rafe’s teeth teased your lips, his breath warm and beyond intoxicating.

Your hands twitched at your sides, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. Instead, they froze, clawing at the fabric of your chair as if anchoring yourself would somehow steady the whirlwind inside you. Your heart clenched, and a shaky exhale escaped against his lips.

Your heart raced, its pounding so fierce it silenced everything else, leaving the world around you a distant blur. Guilt clawed at your mind even as your body betrayed you, leaning ever so slightly into him, just enough to feel his hard chest brushing up against your tits. Rafe groans, pulling away and looking down as they spill out from your bikini top.

He licks his lips, glancing up and shooting you a sleazy grin. He stares just long enough for the both of you to catch a single breath, before muttering two words that would echo in your mind for the next week: “Missed this.”

He kisses you again, lips and tongue all over you. Your mouth, your cheek, your jaw. They move frantically from your ear to your neck. You gasp as a new flood of emotions crashes over you, threatening to pull you under while your hands reach up to grab him. To touch him. To feel him.

“Rafe,” you whispered again, this time more of a plea.

But he’d already pulled back. His movements were measured, almost like he was savoring the moment.

His smirk lingered, curling at the corners of his lips like he knew exactly what chaos he was leaving behind. His gaze flicked to your lips one last time, a shadow of something unreadable crossing his face before he turned his head.

He glanced over his shoulder, pausing for the briefest moment as Sarah’s voice floated faintly from inside the house.

Then, with maddening composure, he straightened. Every movement exuded an infuriating sense of calm, as though nothing just happened.

With his hands slipping casually into his pockets, he turned and headed toward the docks, the sunlight catching the sharp angles of his profile before he disappeared from sight.

You were frozen in place, breath hitched in your throat. Leaning slightly forward, you were still caught in the lingering pull of where he’d held you just seconds ago. Your fingers brushed against your lips, as if needing proof that it had really happened… again.

A weight pressed against your chest, the same dangerous pull from last week, but now it hit harder. It was stronger, deeper, and even more impossible to ignore.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps jolted you back to reality. Your gaze snapped toward the house just as she stepped outside, phone in hand.

“Ugh, finally,” she groaned, dropping into her chair with a dramatic sigh. The legs scraped faintly against the concrete as she slouched back, completely unaware of the storm still raging inside you. “Wheezie wouldn’t shut up about this jacket she found on sale. I swear, I’m blocking her next time.”

She trailed off, her nose wrinkling as she sniffed the air. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the space around you, “wait. Does it smell like smoke out here?”

No.

Your body went rigid, heart slamming against your ribs like it was trying to break free. “Uh, I don’t think so?” 

Sarah turned sharply, her gaze locking onto you. “Are you sure?” she asked, leaning in closer.

The moment stretched unbearably, your pulse roaring in your ears as you forced a shrug, silently begging her not to see the guilt etched across your face.

“Well, whatever,” she said at last, leaning back in her chair with a dismissive wave. “I swear, Rafe stinks up the whole house when he smokes. So gross.”

You swallowed hard, your tongue brushing over your lips. The faint taste of smoke lingered there, branded on your skin.

You hated how much you liked it.

[asvtrials]

𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

Emperor Geta x fem!reader, minors dni!

masterlist

summary: Emperor Geta was a selfish lover. He expected you to give him everything, every thread of your being, body, and soul. Yet he refused to do the same. Why would he? He was the Emperor and you were nothing but his concubine, not too long ago you were a common whore that he just happen to take a liking to, just a vessel for his satisfaction. So why was his mind suddenly screaming for him to kneel before you, to let your thighs straddle his face until he suffocates? warnings/tags: smut, mention of an orgy in the beginning, mention of exhibitionism, generally ancient Rome things, Emperor Geta tries to act unbothered but is smitten for his concubine, facesitting, oral (f! receiving), p in v, kind of rough, sub/dom dynamics (obviously), implied abuse, potentially out of character, not accurate to the Gladiator franchise...

a/n: This man is consuming my thoughts. This is me basically pushing my pussy drunk Geta agenda. I love the idea of Emperor Geta being arrogant and selfish but caving at the idea of hearing her scream and moan as loudly as that woman. 'Mae Columba' means my dove, 'Corculum' means sweetheart. Also, this is my first time writing this man

tags: @teechallas-blog @ladynoonwraith @quuinyoung @ghostinhours @slasherflickchick @marn13s-vilewhispers @munsongirl48 @getas-empress @hillarymurray4 @cleo-2345 @lookingformuses @meganfoxismywife @claa-01 @funsquadgoalzz-blog w/c: 3.3k English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistakes I make. I tried present tense for the first time.

── ୨ৎ

Your thin tunic provides you with little to no warmth, yet you weren't cold even on this chilly night.

Your Emperor's hand runs up and down your right side, his fingers keep grazing your nipple but he is too focused on conversing with Macrinus to notice the impact of his action.

Your eyes wander around the room, from the people who drank, smoked, and laughed, too gone to do anything other than that, to the numerous naked, sweaty bodies intertwined with each other in the most intimate way that was humanly possible.

Yet there was nothing intimate about what you observe. It was primal and carnal, most of them didn't even look like people anymore, the scene becoming too animalistic and raw.

These types of gatherings were rather common in the Palatine and you have gotten used to settings like this one. But this time you couldn't take your eyes off of two people. Two prostitutes amongst the crowd of moving bodies caught your attention.

A woman sitting on top of a man, on his face… The expression of pure bliss she had looks like it was taken out of a vulgar painting, a carefully crafted sculpture depicting the most euphoric moment of one's life. The man's tongue works meticulously on the woman’s cunt making her scream and moan like she was touched by the god's themselves.

The sight was enough for your breath to get caught in your throat. 

That made Emperor Geta turn with a frown, some wine dripping from his full lips. You don’t notice that his eyes travel the path of your gaze, focusing on the same pair as you.

You snap back to reality when his hand gripped your thigh. If you weren't used to his rough touches you would yelp in pain.

When you meet his eyes, there's something behind them that makes you pause. Without a second glance, he turns back to his conversation, leaving you confused. But you don’t miss the way his hand slides further between your legs, almost teasingly.

It wasn't unusual for him to touch you in front of everyone, be it in these types of events or when the gladiator fights bored him to the point where he ordered you to get on your knees and ‘entertain’ him yourself.

But this time, his thumb merely grazes the thin fabric of your tunic between your legs as his hands grip your exposed thigh. Possessively.

Your mind started to race. Did you anger him? Was he upset?

You are in a room filled with naked bodies fucking each other like animals and it never angered him before when you watched. Sometimes you would even comment how ‘sloppy’ their technique was and he would chuckle. So what happened now?

You lean on his side, sliding your hand to his cheek, caressing it gently. He doesn’t react but he doesn’t push you away either. That feels like a win, an opening.

After being his concubine for so long you learned how to behave around him, how to slither your way out of trouble in case you had upset him.

A little touch here, a kiss there, a plea for forgiveness honeyed with praises about how good he is to you along with some dick sucking usually does the trick.

Geta was an emperor but he was also a man with a very big ego. You quickly understood that as much as it is a nuisance it could also become an advantage.

By the time you followed him to his chambers, it was well past midnight.

He had made it a habit to share a bed with you, not even the guards looked surprised anymore.

He walks inside the moment the guards open the heavy doors. He reaches for his golden belt with a heavy sigh but you quickly stop him. “Let me, my Emperor.” You speak, your voice soft. You quickly approach him and meet his stern gaze, waiting for his approval.

Geta lets go of the belt, letting his arms fall to his sides. He looks spent and tired from the long day but you could sense something else frustrating him.

Carefully, you undo his belt, feeling his shoulders relax at the loss of the heavy material. Your eyes travel up his body before finally meeting his gaze through your lashes but you are met with the same cold look from before. 

You take a step back to settle the belt on the table. You aren’t sure if you should approach him again. You expected him to kiss you, to touch you while you were so close but he didn't do either. He just watched you with a raised brow and gritted teeth.

You avert your gaze, focusing on the detailed carvings of the table ignoring the fact that you had seen it a million times before.

You hear his sandals brush against the marble floor, making you shiver. You weren't sure what to expect, he hasn't looked this displeased with you in a long while.

“Mae Columba” ‘My dove’ he says, his voice barely above a whisper but it still held the authority of an Emperor. “Do you know why you wear such lavish cloths?” He asks, not expecting you to answer before continuing, his voice dropping “Why do you smell as good as you smell? Why do golden jewels hang from your ears and wrap around your wrists? Why you aren't passed around my soldiers like a common whore?” 

He was right behind you now, his arms coming to cage you between him and the table. 

His harsh words forced tears to collect on your lash line. You took a deep breath but your voice still quivered as you spoke. “Because you're the Emperor…”

“Because I'm the Emperor.” He repeats softly against your ear, yet there is no softness in his tone. “Then why do you wish for me to become someone else?” 

“I don—” 

“Lies!” He shouts, making you flinch away.

You don't dare to face him, remaining turned to him as his hands start to wander down your sides. “I saw how you looked at those filthy commoners…you were entranced, my dove” 

“My Emperor I—” 

“Have I not done enough for you?” He whispered, but his quiet tone gave you no comfort. His hands moved to your clothed chest, squeezing your breasts mercilessly.

A small whine escapes your lips, your back arching against him. “You gave me everything, my Emperor.” You manage to say through rugged breaths.

He hums pleased. “Clearly not enough since you wish to see me between your legs like a filthy whore.” He murmurs against your ear.

“No!” You yelp, grabbing his forearms after he squeezes your breasts particularly hard. 

Your thighs meet in an attempt to soothe the aching between your legs. “I promise.”

“You promise?” He asks, his tone dripping with disbelief and mockery. 

“Yes! I promise.” You reply quickly, desperation seeping out of your words.

“On the bed.” he commands lowly and you comply without words.

The bed was thrice the size of the bed you used to sleep in, soft with satin sheets and numerous pillows. A bed that an emperor deserved. You weren't sure if you deserved it, yet here you were, lying on the Emperor's sheets like you did many other times.

He looms over your lying figure eyes rolling down every curve of your body like a wolf eyeing a little lamb. His favorite little lamb. 

The one that he never feasts upon but rather chases around until the poor thing is spent and exhausted and pliant for him to bite all he wants.

Geta’s hands find your ankles and he pulls you to him, earning a surprised yelp from you. He crawls to you, entrapping you between his arms once again.

He melts against your mouth, lips moving harshly against yours, refusing to give you a second to breathe. You cry loudly when his teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“My Emperor” you moan against his rough endeavors but he doesn’t stop, you aren’t sure if he even heard you. He was too busy squeezing your already bruising flesh, not even bothering to remove your tunic.

Red liquid escapes from the wound that Geta so eagerly opened. The metallic taste travels to your mouth but he doesn’t seem to mind, and as much as it scares you, neither do you. Instead, you claw at his back breathlessly repeating your words “My Emperor…Let me show you my devotion.”

Geta studies you, his big eyes making him look almost innocent under the dim candlelight.

His lips open to speak his mind, your spit and blood coating them but instead of speaking, he gently caresses your bottom lip with his thumb, smearing the blood.

What are these thoughts? These foolish ideas that plague his mind? His gaze couldn’t deter from your tearful eyes as he let his thumb run down your chin, the faint color of the blood following along.

You were so easy to break, to tear apart and carve as you pleased. He always did just that.

Yet you always came back.

You didn’t have a choice, he wasn’t foolish enough to forget that. But still, you looked at him with a particular dedication that Gate couldn’t quite comprehend. 

Basically, involuntarily he whispers, letting his palm rest on the side of your face “You’ve proven your devotion, corculum. You’ve been so good…” Geta leans closer, his nose pressing your cheek. He breathes in your scent, fighting the urge to squeeze your face with his fingers.

Your breath hitches when he pushes his thumb past your inviting lips and he feels a moan threaten to spill when you sucked on his digit immediately. He couldn’t uncover any thoughts behind your eyes, only lust. Lust for him. Just like he lusted you.

Why is his breath coming out so short, why is his heart threatening to jump from his chest and into your arms? He isn’t even inside you yet and he feels like he can’t think properly.

You weren’t quiet during your shared activities but Geta was always too focused on his own selfish pleasure, rarely caring about yours.

But right now he feels the inexplicable urge to make you scream his name, to make everyone in the palace know, everyone in Rome, the urge to get on his knees and worship you just to get the blessing of your sounds in return.

Oh, you were sent by Venus herself, there was no doubt. There was no other explanation for his crazed thoughts.

The whine that he brings from you when he pulls his hand away burns something deep in his chest. He quickly yanks at his clothes, uncovering his naked, toned body.

Your eyes don’t dare to travel down but you find yourself on your fours, crawling to him. You press your lips to his stomach, tracing his toned body with your lips and tongue softly, teasingly.

A low growl leaves Geta from deep within his throat as he runs his hand through your hair, nearly gently before he grips your locks. He pulls your head back forcing your eyes to meet his, the sudden harshness causing you to freeze.

“You are an enchantress, aren’t you? You have turned me into a madman.” He mutters softly, his tone almost despairing as his blunt nails massage your scalp.

Looking up at him through your lashes you blink, unsure of what to say. Was this an indictment? It sounded more like a statement.

“I wouldn’t do such a thing, my Emperor.” You say softly.

He hums quietly, eyes falling to your legs and he has to swallow hard.

He has seen you like this so many times, and yet you left him speechless every time. From the first time he had bed you, you had left him speechless. Put a spell on him the moment he pushed his cock inside your warm, dripping cunt.

His mind told him to pound you against the mattress as hard as he could, so that every time your core throbbed tomorrow you would remember how vile it was for you to imagine him, your Emperor, between your thighs.

But his body betrayed him. He leans in, his bottom lip grazing your inner thigh.

“I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me, mae columba” He whispers, so quietly that you could miss it if your senses weren’t so heightened.

He released a quivering breath before pressing his lips on your skin. You gasp at the action, gripping the smooth sheets. The feeling of your flushed skin against his lips was exhilarating, it was the beginning of something that he wasn’t sure he could control. 

Without a second thought, his mouth starts to bruise your thighs fervently, his teeth plunging into your flesh like you were his last meal before the guillotine.

Your moans and cries fill the room and Geta’s heart as he continues to mark your thighs, his intensity matching a starved wolf.

He wanted more. He was insatiable, he was always insatiable.

With a swift movement, he flips the both of you. You yelp in surprise, as you land on his chest, your legs spread apart. 

His head finds the soft mattress but he wouldn’t care even if it was the hard floor. All he could focus on was your clothed core, inches away from his face.

“My Emperor!” You begin. You weren’t sure what to say, how are you even supposed to react to such a scene?

Rome’s Emperor gazing at you between your thighs, looking as famished as ever.

“Quiet.” He growls, his arms coming to wrap around your thighs. His hands slowly travel up your body, dragging your tunic with his fingers revealing more of your skin.

Your naked cunt was inches away from his face, his breath hitting your soaked folds sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes couldn’t leave your core, mouth watering at the sight. Impatient, you peel off the dress, revealing your naked body.

It was a pattern whenever you were around him. But this time it didn’t make your cheeks burn about being so vulnerable before his ravenous gaze. On the contrary, it made your chest flutter with satisfaction as you lay on top of one of Rome’s brutal Emperors.

No warning was given to you before he harshly pulled you down to him. His tongue lays flat against your pussy, emitting a desperate sound from you. Soon enough he was lost in the feeling of your wetness.  There was no point in fighting your spell anymore, he was already hypnotized. 

Your eyes can’t leave his face. The way he loses himself so eagerly forces your breath to become shallow and desparate.

His tongue laps on your cunt sloppily, and your juices run down his chin though he never wavers, not even for a second. His mouth worked against your folds like he wanted to consume you whole, to drain you of your essence.

“Gods!” You moan loudly, throwing your head back. “My Emperor!” You cry out.

He whimpers against your pussy, he fucking whimpers. You aren’t sure if you can hold on much longer after that. It seems like any fear or shame you had abandoned your body because you start to rock your hips against his face, his nose brushing against clit with every move.

“I can’t take it anymore, my Emperor—” you gasp, your body trembling uncontrollably.

He grabs your waist, his nails digging into your skin possesively. He pulls you even closer to him, if that is even possible, his tongue running over your folds callously.

Your climax came to you like a violent wave, your body shakes violently after your release. Geta doesn’t stop though, his tongue collecting your fluids even if you jolted and whined.

He only stopped when he had nothing else to take. Like always.

You fall to the side, your mouth agape as you pant frenziedly. Geta isn’t looking any better, his slick-covered lips are parted slightly and his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Gods…” You breathe out.

Geta finally finds his strength again, moving to position himself above you. His burning body pressed against your side, his lips brushing your temple. “Where the gods between your legs, corculum?”

“That’s what it felt like” You whisper and he fought the urge to smirk. 

“Turn around.” He orders lowly, the playfulness draining from his voice.

With all the strength left in you, you comply, turning around to lie on your chest. You gasp when the Emperor effortlessly lifts your thighs off the mattress. 

You whine at the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your dripping cunt. 

With one forceful push he’s inside your tight walls and you scream. Your nails rake at the satin sheets as he grunts at the warmness that envelops his cock. “You always feel so good, my dove. Like you were made for me” He groans, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

“P-perhaps I was” You moan, the sound muffled by the sheets, your eyes nearly rolling back.

He sneers lowly. “Always know just what to say. How to bewitch me with your words…”

You yelp when you feel his hand clutch your jaw and pull you backward. Your back slams against his hard chest. He draws his hips back making you whine at the feeling of his dick slipping away before slamming it back inside. He did it again and again until you were crying and clawing at his hand.

“My Emperor!” You cry out and if it wasn’t for his strong hands you would’ve fallen forward.

His cock hits you so deep, so good you can’t help the tears that run down your flushed cheeks and the lewd cries that fall from your lips still they aren’t nearly as lewd as the wet, sloppy sounds that follow after every intense thrust.

His own grunts are so loud against your ear that you swear you can come from the sounds he’s making alone. It was never this intimate with Geta, so close. He usually pushes your head against the pillows and fucks you into the mattress like an animal. You rarely see his face or hear his sounds other than the harsh words he spews at you.

Your back arches at the harshness of his thrusts, and your head falls on his shoulder. His hand slides down to your core. You feel his smirk against your ear when he flicks your clit and you flinch.

“Geta!” You scream his name as you come for a second time for the night, your voice hoarse from all the screaming.

If your brain wasn't mushed from pleasure you would slap a hand over your mouth, bracing yourself for his palm landing on your cheek.

He grabs your face and turns your head to face him. The moment your eyes meet you know there won’t be any repercussions for your defiance. His pupils are so blown to the point where you couldn’t locate the light brown of his iris. He pulls you for a heated kiss and with one last, mind-numbing thurst he spills his seed deep inside you.

He falls forward and pulls you with him. You fall on all your fours, his chest falling flush on your back. You whimper when his cock moves inside your overstimulated pussy with the movement.

Geta’s breath was hot against your shoulder and his hands squeezed your waist occasionally, seemingly without noticing.

“My Emperor,” You breathed out. “Forgiv—”

“Quiet.” He rasped, silencing you immediately.

He threw the both of you to the side, pulling you closer to him by the waist.

That day Geta, with his dick deep inside you, realized two things. That you have probably enchanted him and that he didn’t care one bit. 

Because if being bewitched meant that he would spend his living days between your legs, getting drunk on you, then he would gladly do it.

[pucksandpower]

Too Sweet

Toto Wolff x Reader

Max Verstappen x ex!Reader

Summary: Max used to think that you’re too sweet for him … now he has to learn to live with the fact that Toto has quite a sweet tooth (inspired by the song that I’ve had on repeat)

I take my whiskеy neat

The doors to the upscale restaurant swing open and Max strides through, his fingers lightly grazing the small of your back as he guides you inside. The dimly lit interior is bustling with the chatter of well-heeled patrons enjoying their evening repasts. A sharply dressed hostess greets you with a polite smile.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to The Sazerac Room. Do you have a reservation?”

“Verstappen,” Max replies curtly.

The hostess consults her tablet, then nods. “Right this way please.”

She leads the two of you through the elegant dining room, weaving between tables topped with crisp white linens and elaborate floral centerpieces. Max keeps his hand at your back, his thumb idly stroking in a soothing pattern as you take in the opulent surroundings with wide eyes.

“This place is incredible,” you murmur, craning your neck to admire the ornate chandeliers glittering overhead. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He simply grunts in acknowledgment as the hostess stops before an intimate table tucked discreetly in the corner. After pulling out your chair for you with a flourish, she sets two leather-bound menus on the table.

“Your server will be right with you,” she informs them before departing with a polite nod.

You waste no time in opening your menu, hungrily perusing the offerings. “Oh Max, look at all these amazing cocktails! The La Vie en Rose sounds divine — rose liqueur, raspberries, lemon ...” You glance up at him hopefully. “We should get a couple of those to start.”

Max barely glances at his own menu before shaking his head. “I’ll just have a whiskey neat.”

Your face falls slightly at his brusque response. “Are you sure? These all look so good! We should live a little and try something fun for once.”

He fixes you with a stern look from across the table. “You know I don’t like frilly drinks. Now stop pestering me about it.”

Chastened by his harsh tone, you lapse into a wounded silence and continue reading the menu with diminished enthusiasm. A few moments later, a dapper middle-aged gentleman in a crisp suit appears at your table.

“Good evening, and welcome to The Sazerac Room. My name is William and I’ll be your server this evening.” With a polite smile, he produces a notepad from his breast pocket. “May I start you off with something to drink?”

You glance back at Max, giving him one last chance to change his mind. When he simply gazes back at you impassively, you sigh. “I’ll have the La Vie en Rose cocktail, please.”

William jots down your order before turning to Max expectantly.

“Whiskey neat,” Max says flatly. “Redbreast 27 Year, if you have it.”

“An excellent choice, sir.” William makes a note. “And may I bring you both some bread from our bakery while you decide on your meals?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” you reply gratefully.

William departs to place the drink orders, leaving you and Max alone once more. An awkward silence stretches between you, filled only by the tinkle of silverware and murmurs of conversation from surrounding tables.

Finally, you try again. “Max, are you sure I can’t tempt you with one little sip? This La Vie en Rose cocktail sounds absolutely divine. You might lov-”

“For fuck’s sake!” Max suddenly explodes, slamming his menu down on the table hard enough to rattle the cutlery. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want any of your ridiculous fruity bullshit? I’m a fucking race car driver, not some ridiculous Instagram model trying to look pretty with my drink.”

His nostrils flare as he leans across the table, eyes flashing with irritation that you would dare continue to push the issue. “I’ve had a long fucking day and I am going to drink whatever the fuck I want. So order your stupid fucking girly cocktail if you must, but don’t act so goddamn disappointed and keep shoving it in my face when I say no.”

You shrink back in your chair, eyes widening with hurt at his enraged outburst. The crestfallen look on your face is enough to douse Max’s fury like a bucket of ice water. He slumps back, remorse already stirring as he witnesses the light dimming in your eyes, lips trembling ever so slightly as you blink back sudden tears.

“I … I was just excited to try something new together,” you whisper shakily. “But never mind. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

The arrival of William with a basket of assorted breads and your glittering pink cocktail garnished with raspberries provides a merciful distraction from the tension.

You immediately reach for the drink, wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and taking a large gulp — both to avoid making eye contact with Max and to sample your coveted libation.

A look of bliss softens your features as the tart, sugary concoction bursts across your taste buds. “Mmm, this is incredible!”

For a beat, Max can’t help but drink in your look of pure enjoyment — the way your eyes flutter closed in delight, pink lips quirking into a contented smile as you savor each sip. It simultaneously tugs at his heartstrings and fills him with an irrational stab of resentment.

Here you are, sweet and radiant, able to find joy in the simplest of things … while he is just a miserable bastard who can’t let himself enjoy anything without getting irrationally angry.

You deserve so much better than him.

The thought is sobering and he feels shame burn hot in his gut. Unconsciously, his shoulders slump as he watches you take another euphoric sip of your cocktail.

“I knew it, this is amazing,” you sigh happily, seemingly recovered from his earlier tantrum as you bask in the deliciousness of your drink. “Max, you have to try just one little-”

“No.” The refusal is automatic, the word slicing through your offer before he can think better of it.

Your face shutters once more, the bright light in your eyes dimming as your smile fades into resignation. With a soft exhale, you set your glass down and reach for the bread basket instead.

“Suit yourself, then.”

As you silently butter a roll, Max finds himself at a rare loss, anger dissipating into regret as the knot in his stomach tightens painfully. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration after his impressive win on the track, a chance for the two of you to enjoy each other’s company and make more happy memories together.

Instead, he’s gone and ruined the mood … again … just like he always does.

***

“Another round?” Checo’s voice cuts through the sound of laughter and chatter around the table.

Max glances up distractedly from pushing the remaining bits of food around his plate. He, Checo, and a few other members of the Red Bull team are celebrating a successful Monaco Grand Prix. Despite making the podium, Max’s mind hasn’t really been on the festivities.

“I’m all set, thanks,” he mutters, raising his glass of whiskey with a tight smile before taking a sip. His gaze drifts across the opulent dining room of Cipriani Monte Carlo, idly scanning the crowd of wealthy patrons enjoying their evening meals.

That’s when his eyes catch on a shockingly familiar figure.

You.

Sitting at an intimate corner table, bathed in the soft glow of a candle’s flickering flame. For a moment, Max’s breath catches in his throat as a thousand bittersweet memories assault him all at once.

The hurt look on your face that night at The Sazerac Room … the resignation in your eyes as you accepted, yet again, that he would never be able to appreciate the sweet, simple pleasures that brought you such joy ...

The cold, empty silence that descended over your apartment when he finally left for good, stuffing his belongings into a duffel bag as you watched with trembling lips from across the room ...

Max blinks, and the moment passes — but his gaze remains riveted to your table. Because there, sitting across from you with adoration written across his insufferable face … is Toto Wolff.

Max feels his lips curl into an unconscious sneer as the Mercedes team principal murmurs something to you with a gentle smile, reaching across to delicately brush a lock of hair behind your ear. You catch Toto’s hand as it falls, pressing a tender kiss into his palm that makes the older man’s expression soften even further.

Your waiter arrives then, providing a momentary distraction as he lays out a couple of fresh cocktails on crisp white linen — a bright purple concoction garnished with a sugared rim and a plump cherry for you and an amber-hued old fashioned for Toto.

Your eyes light up as you take in the colorful beverage, immediately wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and bringing it to your lips to sample. A look of pure delight crosses your features as the no doubt sugary drink bursts across your taste buds.

“Mmm ...” you hum in pleasure, causing Toto to chuckle affectionately as he watches you enjoy the first reveling sips.

Setting your glass down, you gesture enthusiastically toward it as you address Toto. “This is incredible! You have to try it.”

Without hesitation, the Mercedes team boss dutifully leans across the table to take a long pull from your straw. Max watches with a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination as Toto’s expression morphs into one of surprised enjoyment.

“Wow, that is quite good, isn’t it?” Toto remarks with an indulgent grin, licking a telltale dab of purple syrup from the corner of his mouth.

“I told you!” You crow in delight, eyes sparkling with unrestrained glee.

The pure joy radiating from you in that moment is enough to make Max’s heart clench in his chest. He has seen that look before, so many times — whenever he deigned to let go of his surly demeanor for even a moment and actually indulge whatever fleeting whim or simple pleasure you desired to share with him.

But it was always so short-lived with him, stamped out by his own stubborn refusal to truly embrace anything resembling happiness or frivolity. You deserved so much more than his constant scowling and gruff rebuffs.

As if reading his thoughts, Toto then leans across the table to tenderly capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The gentle intimacy of it makes Max’s gut churn as a feeling too complicated to fully unpack blossoms in his chest.

When you finally part, both of you are smiling at each other with such open, unguarded adoration that it’s almost obscene to witness. Toto reaches out to cradle your face in his palm as your lips find his once more in another chaste, loving caress.

This time, when you pull away, you let your head loll back with a look of pure bliss. Something deep within Max cracks and splinters at the sight. In a haze, he finds himself drifting back through the churning currents of memory ...

… that last, fateful shouting match in your living room, both of you red-faced and furious as the dam holding back all the anger and resentment and accusations that had been building for months finally burst ...

… you weeping silently as you clutched a meager trash bag containing what little remained of his belongings, not even able to look at him for fear of collapsing completely ...

… “I’m too sweet for you, Max. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

The acid words burn in his mind even now, feeling as fresh and raw as that night they were spat out like venom between you. His chest constricts as his gaze falls guiltily back to the present day scene in front of him.

Toto and you, basking in the warm, rosy glow of new love — careless and unrestrained in your public affection. Delighting in each other’s company and simple pleasures … just as you always desired for Max to do, yet he could never fully surrender to.

The display is like a twisted mirror, taunting him with the vibrant reflection of what he threw away. What he was too foolish, too emotionally stunted and uncaring to fully appreciate at the time.

Stumbling from his chair in a daze, Max barely registers the questioning looks and concerned murmurs from his team as he staggers from the dining room. He hardly makes it to the privacy of the restroom before bending at the waist, hefting the contents of his stomach into the thankfully pristine porcelain basin.

The whiskey burns on the way back up.

Max grips the edges of the counter, face contorted in anguish as a realization washes over him in searing waves.

You were the real prize all along … and now, he’s lost you for good.

My coffee black

The drone of announcements over the PA system and the dull roar of hundreds of people bustling to and fro mingles into an ever-present white noise hum. Max trudges ahead, the brim of his ball cap tugged low as he weaves through the teeming crowds filing through the airports’ terminals.

It’s just after 5 am, the start of another grueling race week. This time the travel will take you from the Middle Eastern leg of the circuit to the other side of the world in Australia. Twenty-plus hours of planes, layovers, and jet lag beckon — a prospect that grows less and less appealing with each passing season.

A warm weight presses against his side as you shuffle along beside him, head lolling adorably as you struggle to keep your eyes open. One slender hand is looped through the crook of his elbow, gripping the strap of your carry-on bag with the other. You let out a jaw-cracking yawn, leaning into Max’s solid bulk.

“I need coffee,” you mumble groggily. “I’m barely conscious.”

He shoots you a sidelong glance, mouth quirking ever-so-slightly at your dramatics. As grating as your tendency for excessive cheerfulness can be at times, he does admire your ability to shake off the fatigue and stress that plagues him more and more these days.

“There’s one of those chains up ahead,” he grunts, nodding toward the familiar logo peeking through from around the corner.

You light up immediately, straightening and quickening your shuffling steps in anticipation of the caffeinated boost soon to come. By the time you reach the counter, there’s a bright spark back in your eyes that makes the exhaustion plaguing Max’s own limbs feel slightly more bearable.

The barista, a pimple-faced youth who can’t be any older than 18, greets you with a too-wide smile. “Welcome to Daily Grind! What can I get started for you?”

You lean in eagerly, surveying the massive display of chalkboard signs advertising the latest sugar bombs and “coffee” concoctions designed to appease the basic palates of everyday people who wouldn’t know a good cup of joe if it slapped them across the face. Max scowls, already anticipating some ridiculously saccharine order.

“I’ll have a large cinnamon honey oat milk latte, please,” you chirp, as expected.

The barista marks down your request with a perky nod. “Excellent! And for you, sir?”

“Black coffee,” Max replies flatly. “Medium.”

Your brow furrows as you shoot him a quizzical look. “Just black coffee? Not even a splash of cream or anything?”

He shakes his head tersely, one hand already rummaging in his pocket for his wallet as the barista rattles off the total. “We’re in a rush as it is, and that sugary nonsense you ordered takes forever to make with all the fussy bullshit they do to it.”

You wince at his blunt assessment, shoulders slumping a bit in a way that makes a pang of guilt flicker through Max’s chest. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh … but sometimes it’s like the more considerate side of his nature has been ground away by years of constant training and calculating every single variable down to the most minute detail.

The poor kid working the register seems to shrink under the intensity of Max’s gruff demeanor. With shaky hands, he quickly processes the payment before stammering out your total. As you shuffle off to the side to wait for your orders, Max can’t help but keep picking.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you insist on ordering those stupid drinks that are 90% milk and trash,” he mutters, shooting you a disapproving look. “Barely any actual coffee at all.”

You frown, immediately hunching into yourself a bit as you cradle a handful of napkins against your chest. “It’s not like that coffee flavor isn’t there at all,” you argue meekly. “And I have to get some kind of caffeine boost to stay awake during all these flights and race weekends. I just … I don’t really like the taste of black coffee.”

Max scoffs loudly at that, shaking his head in open derision. “Sure, because drinking just regular black coffee like an adult would be too difficult. Instead you have to get your ‘caffeine boost’ from some tooth-rottingly sweet concoction that looks like something a child would order.”

The barista shifts uncomfortably behind the counter, clearly flustered by Max’s abrasive tone. Not that he cares — he’s been dealing with people gawking at him in public for years now. What does rub him the wrong way is the wounded look spreading across your delicate features, eyes dropping to stare dejectedly at the floor.

He opens his mouth to continue chiding you, but at that moment the barista appears with your drinks. The sweet, cinnamony aroma of your order hits Max’s nostrils like a slap in the face, making his nose wrinkle on instinct. You accept your oversized paper cup gratefully, hands automatically curling around the comforting warmth.

With visible enthusiasm, you bring the drink to your lips, unable to resist taking a sip despite the scalding temperature. Max tracks the minute changes in your expression — the slight widening of your eyes, the upward quirk of your lips into a smile of unalloyed contentment. Your lashes flutter closed on a quiet hum of blissful appreciation.

“Mmm … heaven,” you practically moan, hunching over your cup as though to better inhale the revitalizing notes of sugar and spice.

It makes Max want to retch, watching you so unashamedly indulging in such vapid, artificial flavors. How can you find such simple-minded pleasure in that, when you could be savoring the bold, robust notes of a proper cup of black coffee? One meant to awaken the senses and caress the taste buds with its smoky aroma and rich, nuanced flavor notes.

“You can’t honestly get any enjoyment from basically drinking hot milk and flavored syrups,” he mutters, sneering at the offensive beverage in your grasp.

In response, you simply shift closer to him until you’re pressed alongside his body. Your free hand snakes around his bicep, squeezing gently as you tilt your head back to gaze up at him imploringly. Exhaustion and hurt war openly with the angelic softness of your delicate features.

“Max … can’t you just let me enjoy this?” You plead in a low murmur. “It’s early, and we’ve got a long flight ahead.”

His jaw clenches stubbornly, unwilling to back down so easily. Caffeine and sleep deprivation have eroded his already thin sense of decorum.

“I’m just saying, drinking a syrupy dessert drink loaded with sugar and god knows what else isn’t doing you any favors. You might as well just stick to black coffee like a normal adult if you want to be awake and energized.”

The wounded look in your eyes deepens into something more somber and resigned. Slowly, you pull away from Max’s side until a noticeable distance stretches between your bodies. Something inside him shrivels at the loss of contact. Your slender fingers work feverishly at the cup’s lid until it pops off with a dull thunk.

Max stares blankly as you march over to the nearest trash can and upend the contents of your cup into the receptacle. You don’t even seem to hesitate — simply turn on your heel and hurl the now-empty cup in after the wasted drink. It clatters hollowly against the canister, mocking and empty.

When you turn back to face Max, the sight makes the now-lukewarm coffee sitting neglected in his own cup feels like a lead weight in his gut. Your arms are wrapped protectively around yourself, hunched against some unseen foe. Head bowed, you refuse to meet his gaze as you slowly make your way back over to where he stands rooted to the spot in stunned silence.

It’s only as you draw up beside him that Max notices the twin tear tracks striping your cheeks. Your chin remains stubbornly trembling, but you make no move to wipe at the tears now falling freely. Max’s chest constricts almost painfully at the sight of your misery, the guilt gnawing at him as the reality sets in.

He is the reason for it. His harsh, uncompromising tongue has wounded you in one of the cruelest ways once again. Too strict, too unyielding, too incapable of allowing even the smallest indulgences that bring you simple joy without sneering dismissal.

For several agonizing moments, the two of you stand in silence amid the milling crowds of travelers streaming past. Max can’t bring himself to meet your gaze, knowing he’ll only find the depths of his own callous thoughtlessness reflected back at him in your swimming eyes.

Finally, you release a shuddering sigh that sounds far too weighted for someone of your sweetness and light. When you speak, your voice is little more than a tremulous murmur laced with dejection.

“Let’s just go to the gate, Max.”

You brush past him without another word, leaving him to trail numbly in your wake as shame burns a hole through his gut. He watches as your form disappears into the throngs, shoulders already beginning to hunch inward as that spark of happiness in you gutters and fades.

Lingering behind, Max’s gaze falls to the empty cup lying crumpled and discarded in the trash. A reminder of yet another instance where his unchecked tongue and inability to empathize has spoiled an innocent attempt at simple pleasure.

His coffee suddenly tastes like ash on his tongue.

As he moves to dump the neglected drink into the nearby basin, Max wonders with a sinking feeling just how many more times he’ll be able to snuff out your light before it dwindles to nothing.

***

The late morning sun bears down with oppressive force, causing a mirage-like haze to shimmer over the sweltering asphalt of the paddock. Despite being early summer, the Spanish air is already thick and heavy enough to bathe Max’s skin in a sheen of perspiration as he trudges toward the Red Bull Energy Station.

Ahead, he spots a cluster of people milling aimlessly near the entrance to the Mercedes motorhome. At the center appears to be you, head tilted back in unrestrained laughter at something George Russell is regaling you with. The British driver is equally animated, pale features scrunched up in exaggerated motions as he relays what is no doubt an amusing tale.

Max feels his steps gradually slow of their own accord as he takes you in from a distance. You seem utterly at ease and in your element — cheeky grin splitting your face, one hand toying idly with the ends of your hair as your eyes crinkle with unbridled mirth.

A pure vision of effortless contentment.

His gut clenches unexpectedly, unbidden memories of how he methodically chipped away at that very lightness in you until it was all but extinguished washing over him in a nauseating wave. How quickly he took such simple joys for granted ...

So transfixed is he by the sight of your open, honest amusement that Max barely notices the figure slipping up behind you. Not until Toto Wolff raises a conspiratorial finger to his lips, eyes twinkling impishly as he pantomimes for silence at a sputtering George.

You remain oblivious even as the Mercedes team principal slides flush against your back, looping one arm around your waist to tug you snug against his chest. With his free hand, Toto cups it teasingly over your eyes — to which you release a tinkling peal of laughter.

“Guess who?” The playful lilt of the older man’s Austrian lilt is unmistakable, dripping with honeyed warmth.

“Hmm … I wonder,” you murmur coyly, making a show of tapping your chin in feigned confusion. “Is it a dashing gentleman caller here to sweep me off my feet?”

Toto chuckles deeply in your ear, the sound positively dripping with unguarded affection. “Only if you’ll have me, liebling.”

Craning your head back with a cheeky grin, your arms instinctively wind around his neck as you stretch up on your tiptoes to greet him properly. Toto meets your lips in a lingering, languid kiss that has George hastily clearing his throat and looking resolutely anywhere but at the affectionate display before him.

When you finally part, all radiant smiles and flushed cheeks, it’s like the rest of the world has completely fallen away. Toto gazes down at you with such pure adoration that Max feels his throat constrict as though a belt is suddenly cinched tight around it.

“I have a surprise for you, schnucki,” Toto murmurs huskily, lips brushing your temple as he speaks.

You light up like a kid on Christmas morning, practically vibrating with excitement at his words. “Oh? Do tell!”

With a wink and roguish smile, Toto brandishes his other hand from behind his back — in it, clutched protectively, is a large cup topped with whipped cream and what looks like edible flower petals sprinkled over the top. The light purple hue of the iced contents catches in the bright sun, refracting a prism of soft, delicate colors.

“I had the barista in our hospitality whip this up for you,” Toto explains fondly. “After I mentioned how much you enjoy trying unique coffee flavors. It’s a lavender vanilla iced latte.”

Your mouth drops open in a perfect ‘o’ of delight as you instinctively make grabby motions toward the tantalizing beverage. Max recognizes that earnest enthusiasm all too well. It’s the same look you used to get whenever presented with any unique taste or experience to appreciate.

A look he always met with disdain and scorn.

Toto doesn’t hesitate for a second before depositing the cup into your greedy hands. You immediately cradle it reverently, as though it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held. Ducking your head, you take a long pull through the striped paper straw.

The expression that blossoms across your features as that first taste bursts over your tongue is one of pure, unadulterated bliss. Your eyes flutter closed on a muffled moan of sinful enjoyment, lips pursing as though savoring each individual note of flavor. Max hasn’t seen you look that unguardedly delighted by anything in … well, he can’t actually recall the last time.

“Oh Toto, this is heavenly!” You gush, swiping your tongue across your lower lip to catch a stray drop of condensation. “The lavender is subtle, but gives it such a uniquely fresh and floral twist. And the vanilla adds this creamy sweetness that keeps it from being overwhelming.”

You open your eyes to beam radiantly up at the older man, who returns your luminous smile with equal warmth. “It’s perfect, thank you! You have to try it.”

Without prompting, you eagerly offer the cup up to Toto. He accepts it with an indulgent chuckle, locking eyes with you as he takes a contemplative sip — no doubt eager to share in whatever fleeting moment of bliss the simple drink has brought you.

Unlike Max, who would have turned up his nose and likely received it with derision, Toto seems to savor the complex blend of flavors. Humming thoughtfully, he swipes his tongue across his upper lip as though committing each separate note to memory.

“You’re quite right, liebling,” he agrees readily, “this is delightful. So refreshing for this heat. I may have to acquire a taste for these iced coffees myself.”

You positively glow at his assessment, lighting up from within like a joyful little sun. Max is helpless before the storm of emotions suddenly ripping through him at the sight.

“Oh! That reminds me,” you chirp giddily, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “I was talking to the barista about maybe incorporating some other floral syrups for iced coffees too. Like rose or hibiscus! And maybe we could get her to try making those fun layered drinks with the espresso on the bottom-”

Toto’s deep belly laugh cuts off your stream of eager rambling. Without warning, he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush against him once more. You let out a startled giggle as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, lips brushing the feverish pulse point just beneath your jaw.

“You adorable thing,” he rumbles warmly, words slightly muffled against your skin as he presses a languid line of kisses along the sharp line of your jaw. “So enthusiastic about the simplest pleasures in life ...”

Pulling back, Toto lifts one hand to tenderly cradle the side of your face. You automatically nuzzle into his palm with a look of such smitten devotion that it makes Max’s heart stutter behind his ribcage. When Toto leans in to seal his lips over yours once more, the kiss is deep and thoroughly unhurried — as though the two of you have all the time in the world to savor this intimate little moment.

Max’s hands clench into white-knuckled fists, blunt nails biting crescent moons into his clammy palms. He should turn away, leave you to your blissful display with someone who so clearly appreciates you. Yet he remains rooted in place, unable to tear his eyes from the scene unfolding before him.

It’s like witnessing an alternate universe version of your shared lives play out in vivid, scorching detail.

In this reality, Toto is the one tenderly stroking the pad of his thumb over the elegant arch of your cheekbone as the two of you part, drinking in the sight of your passion-addled features hungrily. He is the one basking in the radiance of your bright and unrestrained joy. Celebrating each of your simple thrills, from the most frivolous of flavored coffees to the sensual graze of skin on skin.

And where does that leave Max? An outsider peering in at paradise with his face smeared against the glass, watching the warmth and affection he could never fully embrace slowly slip through his calloused fingers.

And my bed at three

The mattress shifts, the subtle movement rousing Max from his slumber. He cracks one eye open to find the space next to him empty, the sheets disheveled where you had lain.

A glance at the digital clock on the nightstand tells him it’s not yet 5 am. Where are you going at this hour?

He hears faint rustling from the living area of the hotel suite, followed by the soft click of the door. Groaning, he kicks off the covers and pads out of the bedroom, the plush carpet warm beneath his bare feet.

You’re sitting on the couch, slipping into a pair of flats. “What are you doing up so early?” He asks, his voice still husky from sleep.

You look up, startled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” A soft smile plays on your lips. “I was going to watch the sunrise.”

Max rakes a hand through his tousled hair. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because it’s beautiful.” Your eyes sparkle with an excitement he can’t comprehend this early in the morning. “The colors, the way the light slowly creeps over the horizon — it’s just magical.”

He snorts. “It happens every day. Nothing magical about it.”

Your face falls ever so slightly, and it tugs at something in his chest. But the feeling is fleeting, replaced by annoyance at having his sleep disturbed for something so trivial. “So you didn’t want to join me, then?” You ask, almost timidly.

“And wake up before the ass-crack of dawn? No thanks.” He flops onto the couch beside you with a huff. “I was up until 3 am sim racing. Not all of us find staring at the sky such riveting entertainment.”

You say nothing, simply nodding as you avert your gaze. The light in your eyes has dimmed, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he shakes it off — it’s far too early for this kind of whimsical nonsense.

“Suit yourself,” he mutters. “I’m going back to bed.”

He doesn’t see the way your shoulders droop as he turns and trudges back towards the bedroom. Doesn’t see the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes before you blink them away and readjust the set of your jaw with determination.

Max burrows under the covers, fully intent on drifting back into oblivion. But sleep evades him, his mind buzzing with a peculiar restlessness. He punches his pillow into a more suitable shape, flips it over to the cool side, but still he lies awake, listening to the silence that fills the suite.

After what feels like an eternity, curiosity gets the better of him. He kicks off the covers once more and pads over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city street below. Sure enough, there you are, a tiny figure perched on a bench across the way, your face tipped up towards the slowly lightening sky.

Max leans his forehead against the cool glass, watching as the inky blackness of night gives way to soft shades of periwinkle and lilac. Slowly, the colors deepen into blazing pinks and vibrant oranges that streak across the heavens. The sky ignites in a brilliant blaze of crimson and gold, the clouds set afire by the rising sun.

And there you sit, bathed in the dawn’s ethereal glow, utterly transfixed. In this light, your features seem softer, more at peace than he’s seen you in a long while. A smile plays on your lips, genuine and unguarded, as you take in the spectacle unfolding before you.

Max finds himself holding his breath, as if the slightest movement might shatter the magic of this moment. He’s never seen you look more beautiful, more alive than in these fleeting minutes as day breaks over the city.

A rare pang of tenderness blooms in his chest, quickly overshadowed by a creeping sense of unease. He isn’t certain how much time has passed before the brilliant hues fade into the pale blue of morning, but eventually you rise from the bench, taking one last, lingering look at the sky before turning and disappearing from view.

Max exhales slowly, his breath fogging up the glass. He isn’t proud of how he dismissed your simple joy, that spark of wonderment at the little things that he so often takes for granted.

An emptiness settles in the pit of his stomach, the guilt heavier than before. How many other moments has he trampled on in his relentless pursuit of success?

He thinks of your radiant smile, how it lit up the pre-dawn gloom more vibrantly than the sunrise itself. With a sigh, Max turns away from the window, already dreading the apology he knows he owes you.

Because in that single, breathtaking moment, he realizes just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. Someone who can find magic in the mundane, beauty in the simple things he’s become blind to along the way.

Someone, Max fears, who may be too sweet for him.

***

Max gives up on sleep around 4:30 am, as he has for the past several weeks. Insomnia has become his constant, unwanted companion, leaving him tossing and turning until the first hints of dawn creep through the curtains. On nights like this, slumber remains persistently out of reach no matter how exhausted he feels.

He lies in bed, staring at the ceiling as the brightening sky slowly illuminates the room. It wasn��t always this way — he used to be able to sleep like the dead after a race weekend, knocked out by the physical and mental exertion. But lately, his mind refuses to shut off, thoughts swirling endlessly until his head pounds.

With a groan, Max kicks off the tangled sheets and drags himself out of bed. Maybe going for a run will quiet the racket in his brain, at least for a little while. He dresses quickly, lacing up his trainers and grabbing his earbuds before heading out into the semi-darkness.

The pre-dawn streets are blissfully empty as he starts off at an easy jog. He despises becoming one of those obnoxious morning people, but exhaustion has a way of stripping away one’s self-respect. If pounding the pavement before the rest of the world awakes is what it takes to catch a few hours of sleep, so be it.

His route takes him along the harbor, the gentle lapping of the waves against the seawall providing a soothing soundtrack. The first rays of sunlight glint off the glassy surface, and he finds himself averting his gaze, oddly resentful of the impending sunrise.

It wasn’t so long ago that he scoffed at your eagerness to greet each new day. But ever since you’ve been gone from his life, those brilliant, fleeting moments of beauty have begun to mock him at every turn.

He picks up his pace, as if he can outrun the rising sun and the flood of memories it brings. But there’s no escaping the vivid flashes of you, smiling radiantly as the world awakes in a blaze of fiery hues. Or the hollow ache that twinges somewhere beneath his rib cage whenever he’s reminded of just how little he appreciated you.

So lost is he in his circling thoughts that he nearly runs right into you, appearing abruptly on the path ahead. His trainers skid against the pavement as he grinds to a halt, his heart stammering in his chest.

“Max?” You blink up at him, clearly startled by his sudden presence.

He opens his mouth, an automatic apology rising to his lips — until his eyes zero in on the camera clutched in your hands. Of course. Still chasing sunrises after all these years.

A wry grin tugs at the corner of your mouth as you take in his rumpled running attire. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Max says nothing, his gaze flickering briefly towards the brightening horizon before fixing on you once more. You look … well, radiant as ever, lit by the soft morning glow. A small pang of something — longing, maybe — twists in his gut.

“Out enjoying another sunrise, I see,” he says at last, nodding towards the camera.

You glance down at it fondly. “Well, you know how it is. I have to capture them while I can.” A teasing lilt edges into your voice. “Not all of us are night owls.”

He huffs out a humorless laugh. “I’ll never understand what’s so fascinating about watching the same thing happen day after day.”

“But that’s just it — each one is different. Unique and fleeting and … breathtaking.” Your eyes spark with that gentle wonderment he remembers so well, the sight sending a tremor through his chest. “Like getting a front row seat to the greatest show on Earth, but it’s one you’ll never see again.”

You trail off with a small shake of your head, seemingly at a loss to put the feeling into words. Max doesn’t need the explanation — he’s seen that look of childlike awe on your face more times than he can count.

An awkward silence stretches between you, laden with the weight of history and unspoken apologies. You shift your stance, mouth opening as if to say something more.

But Max cuts you off before you can get the words out, unable to bear whatever sentiments might cross those sweet lips of yours. “Toto not joining you this time?” He asks gruffly.

Your expression softens into a fond smile, and it’s like a physical blow to Max’s sternum. He knows that look, has been on the receiving end of it more times than he cares to remember. The way your entire being seems to brighten when you so much as think about someone you love.

“Ah, you know Toto — he’s more of a sunset person,” you say with a light laugh. “I’ve never been able to drag his grumpy butt out of bed for a sunrise.”

Even as his insides curdle with jealousy, Max can’t help the quirk of his lips at the mental image. He could all too easily picture Toto swatting irritably at you, burrowing deeper under the covers to escape the blasted sun.

“But we make it work,” you continue, that loving glow refusing to dim from your eyes. “I take photos of the sunrise to share with him later. And he does the same with the sunsets for me. That way, we both get to experience it in a way.”

The gentle sound of your voice washes over Max like a salve, momentarily easing the tangled knot of regret and longing that’s taken up permanent residence inside him. He watches, transfixed, as the early morning light bathes you in ethereal radiance.

In that moment, he sees it so clearly — the depth of give and take in your relationship with Toto. The effort, large and small, that you both put into nurturing one another’s happiness.

Even when your desires don’t perfectly align. Even when compromise is required.

It’s such a simple gesture, capturing those magical moments to share with your loved one. But it’s one Max was never willing to make when you were with him.

A lump forms in his throat as realization washes over him with unforgiving clarity. You weren’t too sweet for him, as he had so arrogantly assumed time and again. No — the truth, much harder to swallow, is that he was simply too sour for you.

Too selfish, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to make even the smallest concession. Too blind to recognize the magic in the simple things that brought you unbridled joy. Too bitter and jaded to embrace and nurture the beautiful nature that made you … well, you.

And now, after all his careless cruelties and wasted chances, he can only stand idly by and watch as someone else basks in the sweetness of your affection. As someone else goes out of their way, day after day, to put that blinding smile on your face and those stars in your eyes.

Something in Max’s chest cracks and crumbles at the injustice of it all. At the agonizing truth that he let the best thing in his life slip through his fingers, all because he couldn’t be bothered to change his sullen ways.

Because you were never too sweet for him … he was too sour for you.

[shotmrmiller]

I havent a wrinkle in this brain of mine for plot, so have some porn without plot instead :)

Maybe it's because Johnny has you blindfolded, but he feels different. He's heavier on top of you and feels a bit bigger inside of you. It stings more than usual when he finally pushes his cock into your sopping cunt, swollen and tender from the four orgasms he took from you with his mouth alone. Your inner thighs burn as they stretch wider around his thick waist. When his lips meet yours, as your tongues entwine, he tastes of bourbon. He's quiet too, which is very different from the usual filth he whispers into your ear.

But when he starts rocking his hips, all thought fades, along with the ache in between your legs. His thrusts are long, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes forward steadily until he's pressed firmly against the entrance of your womb— making you wince slightly at the pinch. He does this tirelessly until obscene squelches emit from your cunt, that pinch deep inside of you turning into spine-tingling bliss. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when his head nudges against your sweet spot, a loud moan falling from your lips. He mutedly chuckles, his chest vibrating against sweat-slick breasts and the coarseness of his chest hair grazing your hardened nipples only heightens your pleasure.

You feel him move away from you until his cock slips out, only to vigorously grab at your hips and pull you to him. Your upper body rests on the bed, while he sits on his haunches and keeps your legs spread with his thick thighs as he slowly pushes back inside. But this time, it's not all the way. Oh, no. You know exactly what's about to happen.

"Wait-" but he doesn't. He fixedly keeps you in place at the angle he wants, the angle you need, and moves. His thrusts turn staccato— short, quick jabs— and he's hitting your spot, the one that has you going cross-eyed behind the blindfold. Your mouth is slightly open, drooling at the corner of it as you're rendered helpless against his onslaught.

The fire in your stomach blazes, every snap of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, the coil within you tightening, your body tensing. You can hear him spit— can feel a warm glob of liquid land on your mons, and dribble down to your aching, neglected clit. His thumb collects the saliva and swirls your bud under the pad of his calloused thumb rigidly.

Your spine arches off the mattress so sharply it pops as you climax, a choked scream ripping out of your throat. Your nails dig into the delicate skin of his wrists, no doubt leaving behind red welts. He doesn't stop the stimulation on your clit, his hips never falter in rhythm as he prolongs your mind-numbing pleasure.

Body going limp in his hands, you hiss in oversensitivity and swat at his hands. "Ow, love-" but he cuts you off with a searing kiss before flipping you on your knees, and to the edge of the lofty bed. You're rising to your hands when his big, rough palm pushes you down— his intent clear. With your chest on the bed, he sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke and the angle he goes in with is nothing short of devastating.

If you hadn't been wailing, you would've heard the deep, guttural noise that escaped his mouth. You can feel him in your sternum, replacing the air in your lungs. He swiftly picks up his left leg, positions it on the bed next to you, and sets a merciless pace. The force behind his thrusts rattles your very bones, leaves you breathless. You can feel the meat of your arse ripple with every slap of his hips— can feel the bruises forming in your skin under his hands.

You lift your hand to feel where he's splitting you open, fingers encasing his cock, he stiffens— swells painfully inside of you then he's coming with a snarl. His Cock twitches as it spurts his essence into you, stuffing you full and then some because you can feel his cum trickle down your legs. You try to lift yourself with quivering arms but again, you're manhandled and flipped onto your back, a squawk of indignation silenced with an all-consuming kiss. His lips move against yours feverishly, as if he's committing your taste to memory.

He finally relents, pulling away but you hold him in place with your hands cupping his face and murmur an 'I love you'. The only response you get is one you feel, as he tips his head in a nod, and then presses a kiss into your sweaty temple before moving away.

Later, when you and Johnny are in the shower, you notice that there isn't a single scratch on his wrists even though you definitely dug your nails into him. And that reminds you.

"Johnny?"

"Aye, bonnie?"

"Since when do you drink bourbon?"

[d0rothydraws]

After a night out things get heated and Sylus can't control himself, revealing a new side of him.

content: f!reader, monster cock, porn without plot, public sex, multiple orgasms, Inappropriate use of Evol, after care, just a lot of smut idk

w/c: 3.7k

Ao3: Here

a/n: This took so long i'm so sorry works been wearing me out so much I haven't been able to post much. I hope this satisfies all the monster fuckers that wanted this from my one post.

Tonight had been.. A lot. You and Sylus were at a dinner banquet. Apparently a very important man was hosting the event and Sylus was looking for information about something. You didn’t really know or ask. You don’t really ask many questions these days. Sylus had custom fit you one of the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen. It was made of the softest silk, the neckline was low yet tasteful, showing enough to catch some looks but not enough to feel exposed. The skirt had a high slit that went to the top of your hip, exposing your leg once in a while. As you walked, the long skirt looked like it was flowing around you like water. You wore matching blood red heels that looked like they were carved out of ruby. The light catching them in a mesmerizing way. Your hair was done in a way where it framed your face, pulled in an updo that bounced slightly every time you took a step. And on your neck was a crow pendant embedded with a ruby. 

To say it simply, you looked beautiful. Elegant. 

And Sylus couldn’t keep his eyes, or hands, off of you.

As you walked, his hand was draped around your waist, hand on your hip. Or his hand was on your lower back, or when you sat his hand was on your thigh, fingers drawing patterns that sent a chill down your spine. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, meeting yours once in a while. You almost could feel the hot breath that left him when this happened, exhaling every time as if he was trying to control himself. 

You couldn’t lie, it felt good to see him like this. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what you would look like in the dress, it was custom fit, custom designed just for you. He had seen it on you before. And yet when anyone looked over at you, giving you just the smallest bit of attention, you felt his hand tighten, body pulled closer. Your hip flush against his. You could feel heat radiating from his body.

Part of you wondered if he was going to end up dragging you into the bathroom. A couple times you thought he was considering it, especially as his hand moved to the inside of your thigh halfway through the banquet. His rough fingers trailed higher, brushing against your panties. He leaned over whispering in your ear, his voice thick as honey. 

“You look delicious.” His words sent a shiver through your body as your hand tightened on the fork you were holding. You looked around, everyone was talking about something you didn't understand. Nobody knew what was happening under the table. And in a bold decision, you parted your thighs just a little bit more. Moving your hips to press against the fingers that were tracing your folds through your panties. You heard his breath catch, his hand pausing for only a second, Sylus’ lips returned to your ear. 

“Try not to squirm too much, kitten. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.” He said as his fingers dipped under the fabric, calloused fingers grazing the sensitive skin. You took a bite of food to hide a moan, your face red as a shaky breath left your lipsticked lips. You wanted nothing more than to ride his hand. To throw all caution to the wind and thrust your hips against his fingers until you were clenching and twitching around him, begging for more. 

And suddenly, his hand was gone. Your disappointment must have been audible because he chuckled, bringing his finger to his lips. Swiftly he liked them as if he was licking off a stray drop of sauce that fell onto his hand. You caught the look in his eye as his right eye started glowing slightly. Glancing down you seen the red and black tendrils of his power snake its way around your leg. It felt warm and you tried to not shiver or make a sound as you felt the weight of it move between your thighs. Your panties pushed to the side and as a reflex you tried to close your legs. The tendrils pushed your legs back open gently, like a pair of hands and as you felt the warmth against your core, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching a hand out, putting it on Sylus’ thigh, nails pressing into the thick meat. 

It felt as if it was Sylus himself between your thighs, just a different version. The feeling was like a warm tongue licking at you, lapping up every bit that you provided as you tried your damndest to not moan, or at least, too loud. You never felt anything like this before. You almost forgot you were in public until you heard his voice in your ear again. 

“Quiet, kitten. You’ll get caught.” His voice was low, strained. A rush of adrenaline flooded your veins as you choked back a whine. The energy pushed inside you, curling exactly where you needed it. Licking your sensitive, throbbing clit. Your hand on his thigh tightened, nails digging in more making him give a low groan deep in his throat. 

“Sylus-” You said, trying to be quiet, but the sound was choked out. Your breathing was heavy, face red and eyes were starting to get glossy. “I can’t. P-please, I-” You let out a choked gasp, louder than you wanted as your orgasm rushed through you. You clenched around the thick mass of energy inside you as you panted, blushing so dark that you probably matched your dress. A few people turned to look, eyebrows raised in curiosity as they saw your out of breath expression. 

“We will be taking our leave now.” Sylus said, the energy around your lower half dissolved as if it never happened. Your legs felt numb as you tried to steady your thoughts, your heart pounding and blood rushing. Your body moved on its own as Sylus stood, as if being willed by him to follow. You had no complaints about this, your anticipation was as high as ever to get him alone. His hand was firm on your lower back giving you much needed support as you walked to the car.

The drive home was quiet but the tension was thick. His body was tense as he pulled into the driveway and before you could even open the door, the red-black tendrils of energy embraced you again. Your body was moved by a force you couldn’t fight even if you wanted to. A thrill ran through your body. He had never used his Evol on you like this before. 

You were placed in the middle of the bedroom, Sylus following you through the door as his eye glowed. His hands in his pockets as he looked at you with a hunger you never saw from him before. You let out a slow breath, feeling the energy dissolve into the air as he towered over you, a hand moving to your chin. 

“Sweetie, you almost made me lose control, looking like that in public. It’s dangerous, you know.” He said, fingers trailing your skin as his other hand trailed down the curve of your waist, admiring the figure hidden under the dress he picked out. 

“I guess you could say I had a good stylist.” You said with a half laugh, he chuckled, a low sound that warmed your core. His hand moved behind your neck, fingers making quick work of the tie that held the light dress on your body. With a flick of his fingers, the fabric fell to the floor around your feet. Your hand moved to his chest, trailing up to wrap around his tie. 

The tension broke as you pulled him down into a rough kiss, one of his hands curled in your hair while the other moved to your hip. He guided you as you felt the bed hit the back of your legs, one of his legs coming to rest on the edge of the bed as you fell back. His kiss was hot, hungry. Teeth bite your lip, tongues pushing against each other as your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. He took your hand from his tie, his fingers wrapping around yours as he pinned it above your head. 

“Do you trust me?” He breathed in your ear as he pulled back, panting softly. You could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh, straining his pants. You arched your hips up to apply some pressure, making him groan. You knew there was only one answer to his question.  

“Yes.” 

The grip on your hand tightened as it was pushed harder into the soft mattress, his other hand moved to your face bringing your lips to his as he kissed you. Slow, deep. Different from the kiss you just had. You felt hot breath on your cheek as he breathed out through his nose asif he was holding his breath waiting for your answer. In turn, the kiss took your own breath away as you pulled back, your lips slightly red from how he bit your lip as you pulled back. His fingers traced the outline of your lower lip as his eyes stared down at you, red orbs swirling.

“Darling,” His voice made a low sound as his eyes looked into you. A serious look that brought you back to reality for a moment. He didn’t give you that look often.  “I’m not sure if I'll be able to hold back tonight.” Sylus sounded just as breathless as you felt. “If you need me to stop at any point, tell me. Promise me.” He said, the hand on your cheek gently tracing the skin under his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Your heart fluttered as you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed as you took a deep breath, processing his words. 

You two had a safe word. It was well established when you started becoming physical. There was one time you did have to use it, not because of anything horrible but you weren’t in the right mindset for what he had planned that night. So instead of putting yourself through it, knowing that he wouldn’t want you to do that, you said it. He stopped instantly followed by a warm bath, snacks, and your favorite show. 

“I promise.” You breathed, looking into his eyes as he stared down at you. There was something that you couldn’t tell, that you never had seen before. “I trust you, Sylus.” You whispered, bringing your free hand to pull him into a slow kiss that matched the last one. You put your whole soul into that kiss, as if hoping he would understand just how much you cared for him. How without a thought you would put your life in his hands, knowing damn well that he would do the same for you. 

As the kiss continued, the energy began to change. Once soft and gentle was becoming something more. His lips were hot, hungry as he straddled your hips. His clothed cock grinded against your thigh making your body twitch and shiver with need. His hand on your face became rougher, holding your jaw firmly as his kiss devoured you. He pulled away with a soft growl, licking his lips. 

“You’re like a drug to me.” Sylus said as his hands moved to pull at his clothes, buttons unfastening to reveal his chest. Your mouth started to salivate at the sight.  Your hands moved up to help him, guiding your palms over the surface of his skin. Sylus let out a low sound, watching you as you made your way to his belt. He didn’t stop you as you undid the fasten. The sound of metal was loud in the room as it fell from its hold as Sylus pulled the belt and tossed it on the floor. 

His lips were on you again. Hungry, hot. You felt your breath be taken from your lungs as your hands were pinned above your head. His tongue pushing into your mouth, devouring you whole. He pulled away with a low growl, looking down at you, his eyes dark and his lips red from the kiss and the stain of your lipstick. 

“Roll over kitten.” Sylus purred as he let go of your hands and instantly you followed his direction. You felt the slick of your arousal as you moved, making your need even more known to you as you turned. Now with your ass to him, arched as your cheek laid against the pillow. You felt his fingers wrap under the lace of your panties, pulling them down to your knees. You looked over to him, your view obstructed but still managed to match his eyes. 

No words needed to be said, both of you needed the same exact thing and he wasn’t in a mood to tease you, at least not at the moment. His hands worked on his pants, letting them fall to the floor as he stood off of the bed, his boxers following. Your mouth watered, moaning into the pillow at the sight of him. Hard, dripping. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly as his thumb brushed against the angry red head. You felt your pussy clench as if trying to draw him in. He was beautiful. He didn’t even look human. No human could be this beautiful. 

As he climbed back onto the bed he wasted no time in positioning himself. He kissed your back, one hand on himself to adjust while the other was on your ass, sinking into the soft flesh. He kissed your back again before speaking into your ear, his voice was rough, deep.

“Remember our promise?” He whispered, his voice strained. Reminding you that you would use the safe word if you needed. You felt his tip slide against you, eager for the final confirmation. You nodded into the pillow, shifting your hips as you grinded against him. He groaned, the hand on your ass getting rougher as he held you still. 

He began to push into you slowly. You felt your body stretch to accommodate him, your moan loud as your body felt like electricity was pulsing through your veins at the feeling. Fuck he always felt so good. So thick, so heavy inside you. Your eyes rolled as he bottomed out his hands gently rubbing your back, your ass, the back of your thighs. He waited a moment, his breath strained as he tried to contain himself. But as he started to thrust it was a lost cause. 

You cried out moaning as he pulled out, thrusting back in. Your body shook as you felt him fuck you, his thrusts started to get faster the louder you moaned as if the sound of your cries edged him on, which was very much the case. You tightened around him, gasping as you felt his hand coming to rub against your clit, his rough thumb brushing the sensitive skin. 

“You sound so beautiful darling. Let me hear how you sound as you cum on my cock.” He purred in his ear. His voice sounded.. Different. Deeper somehow, more primal, needy. It drove you wild. You moaned gasping as you moved your body against him, fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed his thumb against you. You felt the sensation take over your body as Sylus hit that spot inside you that made you cry out and see stars. Your orgasm flowed through you as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him, pushing him to the brink as he filled you with his hot cum. 

You caught your breath, your forehead sticky with sweat as you felt your body tremble from the release. Sylus on the other hand, was still inside you. Cock hard, twitching as if he didn't just cum inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his lips moving to your back as he kissed your sweaty skin. You could hear his heart pounding, as fast as ever. 

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetie. That was a warmup.” He said as he started to thrust again, slowly at first. Your body shivered and moaned at the sudden movement, sensitive from your orgasm as he stated to fuck you. You felt his cum inside you, being fucked deeper. You blushed gasping, your head spinning with pleasure. 

As he fucked you, you swore his hands on your hips felt larger. His nails were digging into your skin as if they were talons. Not cutting into you, but more noticeable than before. You gasped, your mouth opening against the pillow, eyes widening as you whimpered. 

“Sylus!” You cried out as you felt your pussy stretch more than before. You felt his cock, which was already big and thick, get even bigger. The girth stretching you out more to the point your legs were shaking. You felt him hit places inside you you didn't even know existed. You felt tears fall from your eyes, sure it hurt a little but god you never felt so good in your life. You felt his tongue lick up your spine, long, thick. His mouth moved to your ear, sharp teeth nipping the skin. You could hear your heart pound. What was he? How did he become… like this? 

“Wow kitten, you took me so well.” Sylus purred. He wasn’t even moving yet and you were a whimpering crying mess. “I bet you love being stretched out on my cock like this, don’t you? I’m not even moving and it feels like you’re about to cum again.” He teased as you felt a rough, larger than normal thumb brush against your clit. “Careful, if you do, you might boost my ego. I could get addicted to this.”

Your head spun as you whimpered and moaned. You couldn’t see him. Even if you tried to turn, he was pressed against your back. But he wasn’t wrong. You were close. So agonizingly close that when he touched his thumb to that damn spot between your legs it was instant. You cried out, clenching around him and he hissed at the feeling. His cock twitched inside you as he felt you cum on his cock from nothing more than just being inside you. Filling you up completely. Stretching you to your limit to the point you weren’t sure if you’d be able to walk later. 

“Good girl. You’ve been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?” Sylus purred into your ear as he started to move. Your eyes widened as you cried out, hands clawing at the bedsheets as you felt how massive he truly had become now that he started moving. Your legs shook as you struggled to keep yourself propped up on your knees. His hands came to grab your hips as you whimpered and moaned mindlessly into the pillow. His hands felt so big, so strong. He had always been strong but this was different, otherworldly. He held you exactly how and where he wanted you as he began to fuck into you. Your body bounced and shook as if you were a ragdoll. 

“That’s it, sweetie, just like that. You’re a perfect little slut for me, aren’t you. Taking anything I give you, no matter how big. You’ll stretch your tight little pussy for me, won’t you?” Sylus growled in your ear and you gasped, eyes rolling back at his words. You couldn’t control the sounds coming from your lips, or the drool that spilled out onto the silk pillowcase. You couldn’t stop the loud needy whimper at the things he said to you. His nails pressed into your soft flesh as he continued to ravish you. 

His thrusts started to get unsteady as he panted, one hand groping your ass as the other curled into your hair, turning your face for him to kiss you. His long tongue forced its way into your mouth, his teeth were sharper but it felt more like fangs now that you could feel him better. You opened your eyes for a second, catching a glimpse to see that he looked normal. As he pulled away and opened his eyes though, you noticed how both eyes were glowing red. It looked like orbs of the red mist of his Evol flowing inside his eyes. It was beautiful. If you weren’t getting your brains fucked out you would have more time to appreciate it. 

The hand returned between your thighs, drawing circles against your sensitive nub. As he felt you twitch and whimper, his hand continued until he pulled another orgasm out of you. Your scream was muffled by the pillow but the sound made him take in a sharp breath. Even when he was like this, the sounds you made affected him more than you could ever know. You felt as his cock twitched, his thrusted uneven before he came inside you. The feeling was different than before. It was thicker and it felt like there was more than usual. You gasped, moaning as you felt him thrust a few more times, the thick globs of cum running down your thighs. 

Slowly, you felt him begin to pull out. Your body was too weak and tired to turn around and look at him but that was the last thing on your mind right now. You didn’t care what form he took. He was still yours. And you were still his. You felt him shift around you, his arms pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head. The smell of him flooded your senses as a sense of calm you never felt before came over you. 

His hands were so gentle as he carefully checked for marks and scratches. You felt a warm cloth on your thighs. A cold bottle of water pressed to your lips. You opened your mouth and the bottle tipped so gently. His hands were still on you, gently touching and caressing you. As you opened your eyes gently you saw the oh so familiar black and red mist surrounding you. Cleaning you, giving you water. You felt a kiss on the top of your head as Sylus pulled you closer. 

“Relax, kitten. You’ll need to recover. I’ll take care of everything.”

~•~•~•~

some people on my post asked to be tagged or really seemed to want this so here u guys go i hope you dont mind the tag

@lunacielooo @in-too-deepspace @sefynarose

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

☆DOUBLE! TROUBLE!☆

Suguru Geto × Satoru Gojo x Fem!reader

Cw: smut, threesome obv, blowjob, pussy eating, spit, eiffel tower, exchange of cum, boys kissing, fingering, multiple orgasm, creampie, unprotected, squirt, nipple play, pwnp

A threesome had never come to your mind not before, the two guys offered themselves and how could you tell them no. Having two pretty men in your bed felt like it could only be a dream.

“Isn’t she pretty?” Suguru looks over to a pouty Satoru as two of his fingers lift your chin to look at him. “Stop, don't be selfish. Let me touch her too,” Satoru remarks furrowing his eyebrows as he takes your hand and pulls you closer to him on the bed. Suguru swiftly pulls you out of Satoru’s grasp, bringing you into a sloppy kiss. His hands moving down to hold your hips, gently pulling you down on top of him. Satoru watches the kiss intently, feeling himself grow hard at what was unfolding but, with a hint of jealousy scattered across his perfect face.

“And what about me huh?” He cocks his head to the side, lips pout. “Not my problem…” Suguru mumbles, not wanting to pull his lips away from you. Satoru scoffs, moving towards you, trying to wedge himself between you both, his lips wandering onto your neck, soft kisses sensually moving to your jaw and finally to your lips, meeting you and Suguru in a kiss. Tongues swirling with each other, smacking together, and different moans all mix together. Both sets of large hands explore your body, savoring your soft skin, delicately pressing themselves deeper into you. Enthralling you in their arms, as if they were fighting for possessiveness over you. Suguru starts to mouth at your collarbone, nibbling on the sensitive skin as Satoru presses open-mouth kiss against the skin on your cheek, stopping near your earlobe before giving it a small bite. Satoru feels a wave of confidence come over him as you moan, dipping his hand down your pants.

“Are you wet princess?” His hot breath against your ear makes you shiver. “We should check, Satoru…” Suguru reaches down to spread your legs open, allowing both his and Satorus' hand to fit perfectly in your cunt. Both of them on either side of you, they have you locked in as they begin exploring your heat. Suguru’s fingers graze over your clit as Satoru explores your entrance, allowing a finger to slide in. “She is,” Suguru teases you as he slides a finger between your slit. “Look she’s talking to us,” Satoru smirks, stuffing you with another long digit. The sound of your wetness and moans echoing between all of you as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

Suguru fingers graze your exposed back, reaching for the hem of your shirt to slowly pull it off. Throwing it across the room as Satoru removes your bottoms, dropping them to the floor. His blue eyes falling to your lacy panties. He looks at you with needy eyes, lowering himself face to face with your cunt. Suguru lays you down between his thighs, you feel his hard chest up against your back as he uses one hand to spread your legs open even wider. One hand reaches to massage your exposed chest as the other reaches down to open up your pussy and expose your throbbing clit to the white haired man in front of you. Satoru looked like he was starving, licking his lips as he intently watched Suguru continue to roll your clit between his fingers. The stimulation from Suguru’s fingers was already enough to drive you crazy but once Satoru layed on the bed, mouth directly lined up your heat and you could feel his hot breath against it. You were done for. Suguru moves his other hand up back to your chest, twirling your nipple with the tip of his fingertip to allow Satoru to start eating you up.

“So sweet princess…” Satoru spits on your clit, sending a vibration from your cunt all the way to your spine. Suguru grabs you softly by the neck so he can take a good look at your face, bringing you even closer so he could kiss you while Satoru continues making out your pussy. The way he moved his tongue in and out of you, with a rhythm he knew would have you creaming in no time. He was fast and so needy to please your pretty little cunt. Not to mention the other man trying to stuff his tongue down your throat, Suguru’s kisses were fiery and intense. Each man trying to claim as you their own at each end. You couldn’t think about anything else as you came for the first time that night. Your legs close around Satoru’s head. He could’ve sworn this was heaven as your legs trembled with the immense pleasure of your orgasm. You hold onto Sugurus biceps, digging your nails into him, arching your back. Desperate for some stabilization as you come down from the overwhelming stimulation.

Suguru breaks the kiss, his hand coming down to pull up Satoru from your pussy by his hair. “Look at him. She taste good, Toru?” Satoru doesn’t use his words to respond, he just simply nods, his face covered in your slick. “Lemme try…” Suguru pulls him up, both of them meeting in a kiss, exchanging your cum with flicks of their tongues, leaving you to just stare at them, jaw dropped at what was unfolding in front of your eyes. “You were right…” Suguru breaks the kiss, pushing Satoru to the side. A smirk spreads across the blue- eyed man’s face as he lands back onto the bed. “I told you,” Satoru grumbles, wiping his face. Their eyes fall back onto you.

“Can you take me now, pretty girl?” Suguru palms himself over his sweatpants. A quick nod was all he needed before his pants dropped to the floor and he was pumping himself. A deep red flush spreads across your face as you examine just how thick and heavy his cock was. A crimson red color on tip, veins protruding up and down the entirety of his length. “All fours babe..” he takes your hand helping you roll over. Satoru was still watching with a stupid grin plastered on his face, as he undresses himself, giving you a show as Suguru lines himself up behind you. He teases your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down your wet folds, causing you to groan as you move your ass back to rub on his pelvis. A silent plea telling him you needed him inside already.

“We did a good job prepping you baby… pussy was made for us,” He easily slides in, throwing his head back as he feels your cunt throb around him. The delicious stretch of his cock fogs your brain. The only thing you can focus on is how he fills you up inch by inch until you see Satoru standing in front of you, cock hard and free from his boxers. He wasn’t as thick as Suguru but his length definitely made up for it. A bubble gum pink color and a small pool of pre cum on the tip. “Don’t overwhelm her Satoru,” Suguru scolds him as he slowly grinds his cock into you at just the right angle, already making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “I won’t Suguru, just showing her. Why don’t you kiss it, pretty girl?” He coos, moving your hair out of your face.

By the smirk on your face, Satoru knew you weren’t just going to kiss his cock. Peppering small kisses on the tip, the man above you becomes like puddy in your hands. Feeling your warm mouth around him was leaving him a babbling mess. “F-fuck so good,” his hand holds your head to make sure you don’t decide to tease and stop. He looks into your eyes, with a pleading look on face. You were gonna tease him, until you felt Suguru pick up his pace again. Both of them were close. Really close. As you fixate on the way Sugurus hard thrusts become more sloppy into you, Satoru’s cock twitches in your mouth causing you to gag. Your eyes become glossy from the tears that threaten to fall down your face. The immense pleasure of both them on either side of you, fucking you, with such skill drives you insane. “You want our cum baby?” Suguru grunts as Satoru is lost out of his mind. “Cum around my cock…” Sugurus hands tighten around your hips, holding you up.

Finally the knot deep inside you comes undone, causing you to squirt all over Suguru as he fills you with thick ropes of cum. One after another, pronounced with a deep thrust so he's sure it stays inside you. Not long after Satoru cums in your mouth, silky ropes of cum made it easy for you to swallow. Both men pull out slowly, Satoru watches your face contort into the very picture of bliss and content. Suguru on the other side watches his cum deliberately drip down your thighs, bringing his finger up to your hole and stuffing it back in.

Satoru falls back onto the bed as Suguru catches you with his strong arms before your legs give out. “I got you baby.” he coos, laying down on the bed with you. Satoru wastes no time in covering you in kisses, buttering you so he can ask you a very important question…

“My turn?”

[mv1simp]

I have heard your prayers dark!max simps, rejoice now and go forth in peace 🙏

What You Need ♥️

Max Verstappen x Friend’s Girlfriend!Reader

I got everything you want with me, I do everything he does times three. he’s what you want, what you want (I’m what you need)

You've just started dating Daniel and find yourself spending a lot of time with his old team mate, Max Verstappen - who's dark gaze and wandering hands always seem to be on you. It's okay though, Max cares for Daniel as a friend and by extension you too, right? You have no idea Max had already decided long ago you were the perfect girl...just not for Daniel, but for him instead.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin! reader, manipulative dark!max, size kink, cheating, very dubcon, somnophilia, drunk!reader, Daniel is a bad bf for plot, 4k WC

Max Verstappen stares at you across the crowded room, the dozens of drunk and dancing people at the house party he was at doing nothing to distract him. You’re giggling prettily at something a friend had said, lifting an almost empty wine bottle to your pink glossed lips and not noticing the heated gaze of the 3 time F1 world champion. As always. He tilts his head, a lion eyeing a baby deer, studying your profile and ignoring the attempts at conversation people make to him.

You’re a mystery to someone like Max - a guy who always has whatever he wanted. He drove the fastest cars in the world, fucked the hottest models, and lived in a penthouse in a city with the most expensive real estate. Everything he desired was at his fingertips - except you, Daniel's Riccardio's newest girl. He had no idea how his former team mate had found you amongst all the trashy influencers and plastic models in Monaco. You’d recently started coming to the paddock, quietly cheering on Daniel in his RB garage several spots down from Max's own first place spot - and that was where Max met you the first time. You were a natural beauty, so sweet and innocent, easily got along with the others on the grid, and were smart, too - studying to be a doctor. And to top it all of you didn't seem to even care that Max was Max Verstappen, world champion - which only intrigued him more.

The first time you talked was when his car had skidded out badly on the RedBull practice track, leaving a nasty cut on his forearm that you had patiently sutured and bandaged, sweetly explaining how to look after his wound with a concerned expression. You really were the perfect girl, and Max had decided right there and then that he had to have you for himself. You were wasted on Daniel - and besides, you two had barely started seeing each other a few weeks ago, just “casually” the Australian has said. Daniel was an idiot for not making it official with you. Ah well, all the more easier for Max to claim you instead.

But you never seemed to have eyes for anyone but Daniel, which perplexed the Dutchman to no end. Max was the one in first place, in the top team that every driver dreamed about, the richest and fastest one on the grid - while Daniel drove as a second rate RB driver, a shadow in the glory of its primary Red Bull team. Yet you'd be beaming at Daniel excitedly as he finished P12, while only shyly saying a brief congratulations to Max in P1 at the afterparty. Max was never one for losing, though - he just needed time to get you to give in and accept everything he could offer you. There was no way you would be happy with a 2nd rate driver - no, he knew what a diamond like you really wanted was someone like him. And it had been easy enough to be around you more and more under the guise of hanging out with Daniel.

Like that time he'd invited you both to his yacht for New Years'. He'd seen your eyes light up in awe at the luxurious vessel, and later than evening when everyone had gone to bed but you were still out admiring the stars, he easily came upto you, large hand grazing your back, standing a lot closer than one might to a girl his mate was dating.

He'd casually pulled a diamond choker out from his pocket and held it out to you on a thick finger. Your eyes had gotten wide at the beautiful gift - big, crystal clear jewels with a dangling pearl "M" in the centre. To say thank you for fixing my cut, he explained. And the M for your last name, right? You had blushed and stuttered uncomfortably at the romantic gift, refusing to accept it - Max, is this Cartier? Oh my god, how expensive was this?

Max joked that his hands were a multimillion asset and you deserved a fitting gift for saving them. Besides, it's rare in my line of work to meet someone so genuine who actually cares for me. You'll take it, right? Since we're friends now? You'd felt guilty at his pouting expression, hesitating but having no choice but to say yes - it was just a friendly thank you, after all, right? He stepped behind you to put it on, his lips brushing your ear as he bends down to your petite height. He doesn't miss the way you shiver at his touch and smirks as he traces a large palm along your neck before bringing the clasp together. Wow, Max, it's truly so beautiful, thank you, you breathe, entranced as you look at the jewels - Daniel was so lucky to have such a caring friend! You completely miss how Max gazes down your cute summery off-shoulder dress, his height behind you giving him the perfect view of your delicious tits - where a pearl M now dangles just above them. He feels a delicious satisfaction at the sight of you in his necklace, on his yacht, and within his arms. Yeah, it's beautiful, he agrees, smiling with just a touch of darkness. Looks great on you. You smile back innocently, not realising the M around your neck didn’t stand for your last name but rather for the M in Max.

Another time, you and Daniel had joined Max's extended group for a weekend retreat to St Tropez. Max hadn't seen you in a while, since you had been busy sitting final exams. But the wait had been worth it when he saw you in your cute little baby pink bikini and gold waist chain. And it had only gotten better when he found you later, dozing alone on a sunbed in the Spanish heat, your idiotic boyfriend nowhere in sight and leaving you unprotected to Max's predatory advances. You blinked your eyes open sleepily as Max set down a chilled G&T at your side. You thank him sweetly, too lazy to sit up properly and just lean over to suck up the refreshing drink from the straw, giving Max an enjoyable teaser of what you might look like sucking something else of his. Sorry I haven't been much fun, you say apologetically, especially after you've been so nice to invite me. I'm still catching up on sleep from my exams.

Max assures you not to worry about anything, telling you to nap to your hearts' content, making you giggle cutely. You look around, trying but failing to see Daniel and pout cutely when he's nowhere to be found. He'd promised to put sunscreen on my back, you explain, slumping back onto the comfy cushion with a yawn. I'm really sorry to bother you, Max, would you mind? I don't want to burn-

Max snatches up the golden opportunity, Don't worry, schat, he reassures, and you tiredly file a mental note to google that word later. I'll take good care of you. You smile at him gratefully, closing your eyes as he slowly rubs across your tantalizing caramel skin with his large, rough palms. You never notice how his steely blue eyes greedily roam up and down your body, but you do gasp in surprise when he slowly undoes one of your bikini strings, turning to look back at him - just have to get under them to apply it properly, sorry, you're a little burnt here, Max’s apology sounds so sincere that you say Oh, of course, turning back around and feeling silly for getting worried. So you don't question him further when he undoes the other set of strings on your bikini top, your back now completely exposed for him, and his warm palms feel sooo good against your aching muscles that you accidentally let out a moan. This time you hastily apologize but Max chuckles, saying your shoulders carried the tension of a hostile terrorist-hostage situation. He offers to give you a hand with a deep muscle relaxation massage he uses.

You hesitate, not sure if this is pushing the boundaries of what's okay, but when Max says that he does this for Daniel all the time, you relax, surely Daniel wouldn't mind then, right? It's all too easy to fall back into a light sleep as Max continues to rub the stress out of your sensitive little body, his hands so much larger and stronger than your boyfriends’ that it makes you feel reallyyy good in places you didn’t know you could be. You're too content to care when Max's touches drift down your sides, grazing against the full swell of your tits, or when he goes lower, and lower, and your bikini bottoms are now undone and he's squeezing across your juicy ass, making you moan sweetly while half asleep. You're completely soft and relaxed underneath him, forgetting that your own boyfriend hasn't yet touched you in the intimate places Max now had. If you had looked back you would have seen Max lazily stroking his erect, big cock as he stood over you, taking some pictures for later as he spreads your pliant chubby thighs and zooms in on the wet slick that had started to gather in between your legs and drip down then. Smirking to himself with the proof that your body was so affected by him, he jerks himself off with rapid pumps, breathing heavily as he shoots a large load of hot, white streaks all over your tan ass. You hmmm at the feeling, jiggling your hips, but don’t bother fully awaking to investigate as Max huskily leans down and whispers in your ear that you just needed a bit more cream there, sweetheart.

You nod, settling back into a comfortable sleep as Max rubs his cum all over your ass territorially, smirking darkly at how innocent you were. By the time Daniel returns to your side, he finds you still snoozing peacefully, your bikini tied back up in perfect little bows and Max long gone.

As the days went on you found yourself more and more in the company of Max, and you couldn’t deny the flutter you felt sometimes now when you looked at the older Dutch man. He was so handsome, so generous, and so considerate of you - so much more than Daniel was - and you felt immensely guilty at the disloyal thoughts that would spring up. Especially since Max was just being a good friend to you but you were starting to develop all sorts of inappropriate feelings. One training weekend you decided to be a good girlfriend and took a freshly packed homemade lunch down to the Redbull track to energize your boyfriend.

Max caught sight of you first, and easily fed Daniel some bullshit about the RB social manager needing him to review an insta post - just on the other side of the track. By the time you walked into the garage it was just Max, who told you that Daniel had gone out for lunch, actually, one of his friends was in town. That French model, I think? Oh! Yep, the one who was in Vogue last month.

He didn’t miss the flicker of uneasiness that spread onto your face as you were informed your boyfriend was out on a lunch date with a model. Oh, you say, feeling insecure and stupid that you’d come all the way here - but Max easily wraps a strong, comforting arm around your shoulders and reassures you, insisting that you join him for lunch instead and surely come for a ride, yeah?

He completely takes your mind off your worries by speeding you around in his racecar on a hot lap, and you’re screaming in pure excitement and delight, one hand automatically grabbing his large thigh. He’s so much faster and smoother than Daniel, and you bite your lip as you watch him sexily manoeuvre through tight corners. Afterwards, your stomach is all queasy from the speed and he laughs and helps you out of the car, and you end up having a picnic by the waterfront with your homemade grilled sandwiches and slices of lemon cake. God, this is so good, Max moans as he scoffs down a second slice. You’ve completely ruined my diet. Daniel’s so stupid to miss out on a lunch like this. If you were my girlfriend, I’d never spend a meal away.

You blush at his words, feeling flattered but also a little on edge - it was a bit strange of Max to wonder what it would be like dating you when you’re dating his friend, right? You pick at the grass, suddenly avoiding his gaze and feeling guilty again. Max notices immediately, eyes narrowing, but changes the topic to ask about how your studies were going to which you respond enthusiastically. Afterwards, you thank Max for being such a caring friend and knowing just how to cheer you up. You miss how his jaw clenches at the word "friend", because he would much rather be known as your boyfriend - or preferably, husband.

Later, for good measure, because he never did things half heartedly, he asks his good friend - the French model on the Vogue cover last month - to swing by the RB station and greet Daniel, his mate who’s a big fan and would love to meet her. Conveniently, the paparazzi just happen to capture the moment when she kisses his cheek, and within hours the photos have blown up about Daniel's latest fling and you’re being sent it by all your friends. It leads to a huge fight between you and Daniel, making you storm off only to end up calling Max, crying and apologising but asking if he would pick you up. He’s all too eager, arriving within minutes in his sleek Aston Martin, all comforting and warm as you sob into his secure chest and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. But despite it all you still shakily smile and thank him, saying you should head back and work it out with Daniel. You were just too sweet and loving for your own good. Max needed to step up his game plan - if it wasn't money, status or his charm, how would he sway you into his arms?

The final piece of the puzzle came together at the Barcelona Grand Prix. The Redbull and RB drivers all happened to be sharing a hotel that weekend, and as Max is walking back to his room one night he hears moaning coming from Daniel’s room - the one that he knows you’re sharing with him. Being the perv he is, Max doesn’t hesitate to crack open the shared ensuite door and see his naked ex-teammate rutting up against your plump ass, sliding his small dick back and forth between your asscheeks as you lay on your stomach - fully clothed in a shorts pajamas set, looking almost bored. Confused, Max tries to figure out what the fuck you’re doing - only to get his answer when Daniel pathetically whines please, honey, please can I take these off, I want to be inside you-

No! You snap at him, turning to face him with a glare. I told you, I’m saving my virginity for marriage. Stop asking me. This is all you get.

Oh, shit. You were a fucking virgin? Max’s jaw is practically on the floor and it takes him a few minutes to collect himself before he quietly closes the door and leaves to ponder on this new information. You really were the perfect girl for him. He was going to claim you in every sense of the word - until no one had any doubt about who you belonged to. He smirked, already hatching up a diabolical plan.

And that was how Max now found his gaze fixed at you, barely a week later, at this house party where you’d clearly had too much to drink. Swiping his phone out his pocket, he shoots a text to his very helpful friend the Vogue model again - this time asking her to help out a certain Australian driver who was quite sexually frustrated at the moment. Having sorted out the issue of your boyfriend for the time being, Max strides over to you, who’s now all alone in the kitchen messily trying to pour another drink. You’re dressed in the cutest little pleated miniskirt, stumbling on matching kitten heels, and Max feels all the blood rush to his cock as he sees you’re wearing the diamond choker he gifted you.

You haven’t seen him yet so he comes up behind you, guiding your hands to pour the drink smoothly. You giggle, assuming your boyfriend has arrived, and rub your ass against his crotch. Daniel! You exclaim happily, turning around and burying yourself in the Redbull hoodie he wore. Mmmh, baby, you’re here! You love when he wears this hoodie, because sometimes you like to cuddle it and wonder - just for a few seconds! - if it was Max's arms around you instead. Not that you'd ever admit these illicit thoughts to either party.

Meanwhile, Max’s eye twitches at the insult of being called the name of his supbar ex-teammate, but then you’re rubbing your pink nails all over his shoulders and back and pressing your soft, curvy body against his much larger frame and drunkly whispering have you been working out? You’re sooo much bigger and musclier than I remember you being, it’s super hot!

Max can’t help chucking at your cute antics, telling you let’s go somewhere more quiet, baby. Grabbing your drinks, he easily tosses you over his shoulder and exits out the back door to avoid your friends, slapping your ass for good measure as your miniskirt rises up, making you yelp in excitement. He definitely must have been working out because you can't ever remember when he has lifted you so easily before! He leads you into the dark and empty pool house, well and truly away from any prying eyes.

Throwing you onto the plush sofa, he purposely leaves the lights off as you squint up to see his dark, tall silhouette. You whine for him to come closer, asking where did the music gooo and after connecting to the speakers he drops down next to you. You climb eagerly onto his lap, excitedly yapping about how much you love this Redbull hoodie. His large hands automatically come up to rest on your ass, thick fingers sliding underneath your miniskirt and pulling your thong to the side as he begins teasing your slit. You instinctively grind against his leg, pushing back against his fingers, cause wow, baby, when did you get so good at this? You meet his eyes finally when you lean in to kiss him and you squeal in surprise as you realise just who you’re desperately humping. Mmmh-Max?!? Ohmygod what are you doing here-

Max is immediately annoyed that you seem to have come to your senses, but as you begin to pull away, he hatches a new plan. I just came to tell you the bad news myself, schat, he says earnestly. You’re confused at what he means but he pulls up his messages and shows you a video (his friend works very fast, after all) that has you recoiling in disgust. But Max makes sure that you see every second of it - of the French model filming Daniel’s pathetic scrunched up face as she rides him into oblivion, him moaning please can I come, mommy?

Max has to resist his snort. Fucking pathetic. You could do so much better - with him. Sorry you had to hear it like this, Max lies through his teeth, not sorry one bit, I just wanted you to hear it from me and not the news outlet. But you just climbed on top of me and began doing all this and I couldn’t stop it-

His guilt trip works perfectly and you’re back to bouncing in his lap, teary eyes, saying I’m so sorry Maxie, that’s all my fault, I thought you were Daniel but I guess we’re broken up now, can I make it up to you? What can I do?

Bingo. Tilting his head, Max smirks darkly at you. Can you just use your lips to drain some of the stress, baby? It got all tense cause of your grinding. You widen your brown doe eyes, confused but he just guides you down with a strong hand to sit on your plump ass in between his legs. My lips? You say breathlessly, and Max nods, guiding your head to his crotch as you immediately start sucking on his straining bulge. Like-like this Maxie? You ask innocently, voice muffled. Not quite, Max strains through gritted teeth. Unzipping himself, he guides his thick length out against to rest against your face with a thwack. Your eyes go wide at the size. Maxie is much, much bigger than your boyfriend.

Ex, the world champion corrects, as you accidentally say it out loud. He’s just an ex now. Now, you going to be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?

You nod obediently and sloppily take him into your mouth, choking and gagging as you go. Max moans blissfully as he finally has you, angling his flash onto your face - just to help you see what you’re doing, he lies sweetly - whilst recording the filthy blowjob he’s tricked you into performing. You moan around his length, Max is always so thoughtful towards you! You’re determined to clear up any ounce of tension your earlier actions had caused him - not noticing that his cock is only getting harder as you coat with it your saliva and lip gloss.

Swearing at your eager mouth and nearly finishing early, Max sadly has to put an end to this as he has other plans in store. He manhandles you again, this time carrying you in his arms up the stairs and tossing you onto the bed. Before you can orient yourself he’s yanked his clothes off and climbed on top of you, asking you to open your mouth wide so he can check you’ve drained him properly. You do so dumbly, and Max messily spits before shoving his thick tongue down your throat as you start moaning again. Mmh, don’t think you got it all, sweetheart. Max says disapprovingly. Plus, you made me all messy with your lipgloss. How am I going to go back to the party like this, huh?

You go teary eyed again at the demanding tone, anxious you’d made Max mad. You beg to suck him off again, promising you’d lick up all the mess this time, but he sighs, running his hands through his hair and saying not enough, think I need to relieve it a different way. You nod eagerly, whatever you need Maxie, but squeal in suprise when he grabs your ankles and lifts your legs up over his shoulder, flipping your skirt up and ripping your panties in half to expose your dripping pussy. Maxie- Ohmygod, what are you doing, is this really- you’re babbling frantically, hearing a voice at the back of your mind tell you Max was taking this too far.

Max cooes words of reassurance at you, Shhh schat, this is the only way to feel better, okay? You’ll help me out, right? After I helped you?

You hesitate but give in, unable to resist your growing desire for the handsome driver. He grins cockily at you, leaning down and lapping at your intimate parts with his skilled tongue, saying he just needed to make sure you were all relaxed first before he started. You feel bad that you’re enjoying it this much, since Max has to do all the work himself, but it feels soo good, and you moan Max’s name over and over as he starts sliding his fat aching cock in between your slick folds.

Almost there, baby, he hisses, sweat running down his back as he yanks your crop top off, leaving you in the sparkly choker with his initial across your heaving tits. He turns the camera back onto your blissed out face again, wanting to capture the expression on your face when he enters you for the first time. You smile back adoringly with your doe eyes, unaware of just how long of a night he had in store for you or how many times you would come apart on his cock, your precious virginity now all his.

And the next morning when you’d arrive on the paddock, meekly walking past the RB garage and straight into Max’s Redbull motor home, he would reply to Daniel’s confused texts with a picture of his hand across your bejeweled throat, hickeys littering your tits, so that there would be no more questions about what you were doing at Max’s side. Just how you were always meant to be ❤️‍🔥

—————————————————————————

A/N: GUYS I need to write some fluff after this I feel like I’ve objectified this poor man with like 7 straight smut stories in a row omllll

[iid-smile]

sunrise and sunset , nanami kento

x fem!clingy!reader ! nanami calls the reader "love" and "darling". the reader cuddles with nanami!!! the reader also loses sleep because of his love because thats cute.

author's note: nanami is so yellow but there's no option for it so he has to be orange </3 tell me why i was actually swooning while i was thinking about these scenarios in my head? especially the second one???? i think everybody agrees that nanami is a listener 100%

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

sunrise.

nanami always wakes up before you. he used to get up as soon as his eyes opened, but nowadays, he has a little something holding him down.

it seems like you never fall asleep on your side. that's partly his fault, since he's always beckoning you to come closer to him. but even then, in the morning, he feels himself teetering off the edge of the bed, with two arms wrapped around his neck, and his now asleep arm still wrapped around your waist. slightly dangerous for him, but as long as you feel comfortable, then nothing else matters. seeing your pretty face first thing every day was a blessing.

"kento..." there it is. your tiny mumbles of you waking up.

nanami's lips immediately curl upwards at the sound of your voice. as gently as he can, he sits up more against the headboard, keeping your head laid on his chest. "i hear you." he responds.

the bedroom is quiet and tranquil. he specifically bought black out curtains for your sake, but considering the price, they really weren't doing the best job. mornings in summer were relentless, taking into the account how early the sun rises, and it would wake you up in the middle of your sleep with how bright it was outside. no worries though, since he has plans to replace them very soon.

you mumble again, lips grazing against his shirt. "why aren't you up yet?"

"i don't have work today." obviously a lie. you may be a bit dumb, but you're well aware it's a weekday today, and nanami isn't the best liar.

you lift your head, gaze shooting up to meet with his. "yes, you do! it's a wednesday." you whisper-yell. "you should be up 'nd getting ready..."

"my day doesn't start until yours does." you feel his hand on top of your head, coaxing you to lay it back down. "if i'm late for work, that's fine. you're more important to me." his touch moves up to your upper arm, and his thumb rubs in lazy circles. "go back to sleep, love. you're tired."

"you're too sappy 'n sweet... gonna make me swoon every time you open your mouth, i swear." you grumble.

"then i'll catch you every time."

"stop!"

sunset.

nanami always reads a book before bed. it's usually historical genres, he's not a big fan of sci-fi or comedy. but sometimes, he'll let himself indulge in the odd romance book here and there. why? they're your favourite genre, the books you read. he memorises each different author that he spots you reading, often gifting you another one of their works if he knows you're not having a good day.

finally, you emerge from the bathroom door, a few folded clothes ready to be put away in the laundry hamper. when you turn to him, you watch his eyes intently as they follow the words on the pages. "that's..?"

"i saw you enjoying it this afternoon." he flips a page. you move closer to the bed, crawling on top of the mattress and inviting yourself into the blankets. "you looked particularly thrilled during it. what do you like about this story?"

you pause, thinking over the entire plot. "it reminds me of us."

nanami can only smile, and he doesn't miss the one on your face. closing the book, he places it on the bedside table, and scoops his other arm underneath you. naturally, you rest your head on his shoulder, and hook one of your legs over his. the small distance between the two of you felt that much more intimate that you felt the need to lower your voice. "are you going to sleep?"

"no." the hand wrapped around your waist moves up to your head, just placing it on top of your scalp. "i want you to talk. you seem eager to talk about it."

you giggle inwardly, snuggling impossibly closer to him. "i'm so in love with you." you whisper.

"i love you too, darling. more than words can express." he whispers back.

no wonder you always wake up so late. it's because nanami always has your heart beating too fast before you go to sleep.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Bringing in the new year with Simon.

Just a little something to tide us over till tomorrow. 😉

5…4…3…2…1… Happy New Year!

The television blasted out the sounds of the happy, cheering gathering of people while boisterous music played behind them just as the clock struck midnight. Two long-stemmed glasses filled with cheap champagne sat bubbling on the crowded coffee table, untouched. Even right outside the window the sounds of celebrating could be heard as people took to the streets to spread their joy through the cold night. And yet everything was completely forgotten and faded into the background as the two people sitting on the couch became lost in one another. 

Simon's large hands were wrapped around your delicate cheeks, pulling your face tight against him as heated, moist lips captured yours over and over without a single thought to what was happening outside the space between you both. All he could comprehend in that moment, all that he cared about, was the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body, the soft touches from your fingertips grazing over bare skin that made his mind fuzzy. 

He had gotten a little too eager, started the celebration a little too soon, as it was the first year he wasn't stuck in the barracks alone and isolated as those all around him celebrated with those that meant something to them. Now he was with someone who he cared about more than anything in this world and so things had already gotten ahead of themselves… not that either of your minded.

Eyes staying closed, he grabbed your hands within his, lacing his fingers into the empty space between yours, and gave them a tug in a silent request to move in closer. Carefully, with mouths still connected, he helped to situate you over top of his broad lap so that you were comfortable. Straddling his thick thighs between your legs, knees shoved into the couch cushions on either side, you wrapped your arms around his neck as your fingers sought to play with the short strands of hair at the back of his head. 

Your touch was met with a deep-throated moan from him, causing his hands to reach behind you so that his palms could fill themselves with as much of your ass as he could hold between them through the fabric of your dress, massaging that voluptuous curvature in slow, circular motions as he pushed down to guide your hips to gently grind against him. The scant fabric at the crotch of your panties meant that you could feel him press up into you the longer you moved, that bulge growing steadily since he first pulled you into his kiss.

His exploring mouth began to travel down from your lips to your jaw and then on to your neck where he nuzzled into the crook of it as he latched on. Sharp teeth nibbled at the tender flesh at the base of your neck, quick bites that had you tingling from head to toe.

A loud group outside shouted and laughed, which caught your attention and drew you back into the reality outside of Simon’s body. “I think we missed it,” you moaned breathlessly into the room as his lips sent another wave of pleasure rolling straight through you. “It’s already past midnight.”

“Didn’t miss a fuckin’ thing, sweetheart,” he groaned as his hands roamed up a little higher to secure themselves around your waist. “This is the only way I wanna bring in the new year.”

Minutes passed by wholly ignored as if time itself had stopped while large hands pawed at your lap as your hips rolled over top of him. The friction was divine and mixed with the overwhelming feeling of your lips embracing his own and it wasn’t long until it felt like his entire body was on fire. 

Suddenly you felt Simon shift beneath you and all at once your body being shoved back down onto the cushions as he loomed over top, crushing your body into the surface as he positioned himself in between your legs. 

Your lips were left cold as he broke the kiss to sit back on his calves as calloused digits pushed the bottom hem of your dress up to your waist, leaving your hips exposed with nothing but a small bit of underwear to cover them. His breath got caught in his throat for a moment as he took in all that beautiful, warm skin, the flush of your cheeks, the swollenness of your lips.

His angel heaven sent.

There was a saying Simon had heard that said what you did on the first day of the new year dictated how it would go throughout the rest and though he didn't believe in old wives tales, he wasn't about to jinx a good thing. He wanted the next 12 months to be filled to the brim with moments like this. 

“Let’s start this year off right, yeah pretty girl?” he smirked as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties to slide them down your tights and right off your legs.

“With a bang.”

[mggslover]

🤓☝️ may i request for your first time series the first time spencer lets reader take control during sex? not too sure how you feel about sub spencer but im horny for it and i’d love to see what you do

edging sub spencer genre: smut 18+ cw: sub!spencer x dom!reader, mentions of spencer being insecure about his masculinity, mentions of p in v sex, tied hands, handjob, edging, breastplay, oral (f receiving), thigh fucking, bit of degradation, religious comparisons wc: 2,4k a/n: am i a sub spencer fan?! pull up in the- yes lol i very much am. i cannot even call these drabbles anymore. if anyone is wondering why your requests are taking so long, this is the reason. my first time exploring this dynamic. i hope you'll enjoy, let me know your thoughts!

“Come on, baby. You’re the one who begged me for this.”

Spencer whimpered underneath you in response. He sat up straight on your shared bed, upper body rested against the headframe, long legs spread over the sheets, as your naked body hovered over his. And most importantly, his hands were tied behind his back with a silk red fabric.

Spencer craned his neck, trying to press his lips to yours, but you simultaneously leaned away from him. You shook your head, tsking. “What did I tell you?”

Twinkling hazel eyes blinked up at you, his eyebrows caught in a slight furrow.

“You can’t tell me you forgot,” you purred, fingertips trailing the curve of his jaw. “What did I tell you, Spencer?” you repeat with more force in your tone.

He visibly swallowed as your nails dragged down his neck. “That I’m not allowed to touch you.”

“And why’s that?” You hummed.

“Because sexual denial will increase the release of dopamine, and—oh…” he closed his eyes in delight as your nails continued their path down his chest.

“—and the release of oxytocin and serotonin. It will… in general… Jesus… make you more sensitive, which will heighten your pleasure.”

He had hurriedly finished his last words, letting out a deep breath of relief once you nodded in confirmation. 

“And all we want is for you to feel good. Isn’t that right, baby?”

He nodded fervently, a deep moan escaping his throat as your fingers grazed the skin of his upper thigh, carefully avoiding his throbbing length.

-`♡´-

It had all started last week, when you came home on a dreary Thursday evening. Immensely frustrated from your day at work. 

Spencer oftentimes suggested sex when you were feeling stressed out. Sexual intercourse is known for lowering blood pressure and boosting happy hormones.

Usually this would result in him leading you to the bedroom where he’d gently press you down onto the mattress. He’d crawl on top of you, lips immediately finding yours, giving gentle pecks as his hands roamed up and down the sides of your body. 

You’d have sensual sex. Sweet. Vanilla. It was the norm, and when it came to sex, Spencer wanted to keep to the norm. Sexuality and masculinity were deeply intertwined for him, and in both of these aspects, he felt like he didn’t fit into the traditional roles of a man, causing him to feel the need to approach sex textbook-wise.

The sex was good for the both of you. You never minded seeing your boyfriend on top of you. His lips slightly agape as he fought back his moans, hair falling into his face with every push of his hips, shoulders shuddering as he came inside of you. And for Spencer, he was always happy to be there. 

So, it was entirely new when you came home that day and tugged him by the collar of his shirt the second you entered the house. Spencer’s mouth was still in a gasp when you hungrily pressed your lips to his, tongue finding his without building the moment up like you’d usually do. 

Your body pulled flush against him. The softness of your breasts pressed against his hard chest. He was able to feel the peaks of your nipples even through the fabric of clothes.

“Are you okay?” Spencer choked out as you cupped him roughly through his pants. 

“I just need you, Spence. I need to use you.”

Those words were almost enough to make him spill in his underwear. And indeed, the second you had moved to the couch and straddled him (an entirely new position), taking his cock in your soft hand as you sunk down onto him, it took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to fill you up with his release.

You needed the control and security after having been bossed around at work. Spencer, on the contrary, felt too much in control at his job. Setting a profile and finding evidence and whereabouts on an unsub was very precise work, not even mentioning the huge amount of pressure on saving people’s lives. 

He never realized how good it felt to let go. To trust someone else in taking charge, in taking care of him. At that moment he didn’t think about portraying a certain type of masculinity. Instead of holding back his moans and settling on deep groans, he whimpered against your mouth as you fucked him. Squirming and whining underneath your touch as he begged you for more. 

His reactions didn’t go unnoticed by you. When you both had recovered and were cleaned up, you brought up the subject of this sub-dom dynamic, and it was very easy for Spencer to give in to exploring it more.

-`♡´-

“P-please.”

“What’s that?”

“Please touch me,” Spencer softly cried, fisting the pillow behind his back with the little grip he had.

You leaned in closer. Your breath tickled against his neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before you licked a bold stripe up the skin. 

A strangled moan left his throat. You smiled at him, pleased with yourself. It deeply turned you on that you could do whatever you wanted to him, that he’d beg you for anything that you could give him. 

His body responded to every ghost of your touch. Your lips trailed his throat, feeling the heat radiating off of him. Occasionally leaving lingering marks and bites until you made your way up his jaw.

“Is this what you wanted, Spence?” You teased as you put your hand around his thick shaft. 

“Yes,” he moaned, his head falling back against the headboard. “Exactly that.”

You pumped his length in a steady rhythm, flicking your palm to enhance the sensation. 

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. Such a pretty boy. Your cock is so hard and ready for me.” 

He shivered at your words. He didn’t know how he got so lucky to have you hovering above him, breasts swaying with every movement of your hand. You were so good to him. When his gaze blinked from your breasts to your face, seeing you seductively smile but your eyes radiating a gentle sweetness, he started wondering if there might really be a God. You were too heavenly to be here on Earth, pleasing him like there was no better enjoyment in life.

Your eyes were fixed on his cock, watching his precum gather at the tip. You circled the sensitive skin with a soft stroke of your thumb. Spencer used the momentary distraction to dive in, his lips catching around your nipple. “Oh god,” you gasped in pleasure, the sensation going straight to your core. His tongue made quick work of stimulating the nub. His cheeks were hollowed as he sucked, giving his everything for the mere moments he might get of tasting you.

Spencer was internally grateful when you didn’t stop him. As a matter of fact, your fingers knotted through his hair as you tugged him closer to you. It helped him keep his balance as his still tied hands clenched around the air. 

He continued his kisses to the rest of your breast once he was confident enough that you wouldn’t tell him to stop. He sucked on the soft, full flesh, leaving marks that would remind you of this moment days from now.

“Look at you sucking on my tits. You’re so desperate, aren’t you? Such a little slut for me.”

He moaned around your nipple, a wave of need fluttering through your stomach. You pulled on his hair, sharp enough to leave a pleasurable sting of pain. “Look at me.”

Wide doe eyes met yours. “‘m sorry.”

“Too distracted by having my tits in your face to look me in the eyes, huh?”

“Sorry, you’re just too pretty,” he truthfully muttered, eyes fleetly falling onto your breasts before blinking back up.

He looked so pretty like this. A red flush painting his neck and cheeks. His lips were just as swollen and red as he pouted at you. A smug smile lingered on your face, and you pulled him back in, leaning forward to not have him stretch his neck too far. The kiss was sloppy, hungry. You were not able to tell whether his whimpers were because of the kiss, or because of your touch as your hand had found its way back to his cock.

You fastened the motions of your wrist. His mouth was parted, a pretty song of whines escaping. You sucked down on his bottom lip, mirroring the action he always did when kissing you. 

“Oh, baby.” The moan came out in a gasp. His hips started stuttering, stomach clenching as he neared his release.

“Are you almost there, Spencer?”

“Yes! I’m almost there, I’m almost there baby. Please don’t stop.”

You released your grip on him. His length remained hard, standing upright as if you were still holding him.

The desperate cry that left his lips should have made you feel bad. Instead, you found yourself getting even more turned on. Sure that your thighs were slick with your wetness by now.

“Why—why did you do that?” He whimpered accusingly, as if betrayed. “I was so close.”

“Ah, I know, baby,” you faux pouted. You had to bite your lip to hold back a sadistic smile as you noticed his glossy eyes, looking more green than they usually were.

“I’m just keeping you to your promise,” you reminded him. He tilted his head like a confused puppy. “When you told me you’d always make sure to make me come first.”

“But we weren’t—”

“Uh, uh, uh,” you shushed him, index finger pressed to his lips. “Don’t you want to please me?”

He softly kissed your finger, “Of course I do.”

“Then start using your mouth for better things than complaining,” you cooed at him before carefully standing up on the bed, making your way forward until his face was right below your cunt. Spencer wiggled on the sheets until he lay flat on his back, arms in a bit of an uncomfortable position, but not enough to bother him as he had a perfect view of your dripping pussy.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in a prayer. You softly chuckled, bending your legs so that they were spread on either side of his face. Slowly, you lowered yourself until his tongue, which was already sticking out, made contact with your folds. You hissed at the sensation, your clit throbbing in the same way it always did before he ate you out.

He started lapping at your pussy, gathering your sweet slickness and spreading it over the lips. He flicked his tongue over your inner lips before sucking on them. As much as Spencer adored giving you the reins, nothing compared to the shaky, uncontrollable whimpers that left your mouth. Sounds that were made because of him. Sounds that were made for him. 

“Keep making those sounds, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your pussy, the vibrations echoing through your body.

After more worshipping kisses to your cunt, his lips finally settled down on your clit. Your back arched when he started sucking on the sensitive button while simultaneously pressing on it with the tip of his tongue. He truly was your toy, no silicone object giving you the ecstasy that he could give you. 

“Oh God, Spencer. You’re so good at this,” you stated in a heavy breath. The feeling of your orgasm coming up was close to overwhelming, and you were whimpering as your vision hazed.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes. Oh, fuck, I’m—”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence, instead crying out a moan as your release hit you. Your legs started shaking uncontrollably, your pussy pressed even harder against his mouth as you rode out the aftershocks, muffling his deep moans. The feel of his nose against your overstimulated cunt was dizzying. 

“I need to lie down,” you said, out of breath. Shaky Bambi legs as you climbed off of him. Your body didn’t allow you to move much further. Settling on lying down on top of his body, spreading your legs to give his achingly hard cock room to breathe.

Your cheek rested against his sweaty chest. Spencer reached out to trace your face, huffing in annoyance when he remembered his hands were still tied behind his back. 

He hummed when you pressed a wet kiss to his chest. “Finish for me, baby.”

Then you squeezed your thighs together. Spencer swallowed when he realized what you meant. His cock was enveloped between your plush thighs, and when he experimentally lifted his hips, he discovered how good the act felt. 

“Jesus, that’s nice,” he groaned. 

Wasting no time, he started pumping his hips up, using your thighs as a cocksleeve. The wetness that was gathered on your inner thighs (and was still dripping out of your pussy) working as lube. 

Your fingertips lazily trailed over his chest. “Doing so good for me, baby. Show me how good you can make yourself feel.”

He nodded, a whine leaving his lips as he fastened his speed. His eyes were transfixed on the curve of your ass, craning his neck to get a better look.

He’s never experienced a feeling as sentimental as this. The rough pleasure of the sex mixed with the gentleness of your head resting against him. He couldn’t get closer to Heaven than this.

“You feel so good,” he whined. “You’re not stopping me this time. Right?” He asked for confirmation, his voice shaking in doubt. 

You laughed, the sound vibrating against his chest. “That really took a toll on you, huh? I won’t, I promise.”

The slight tension in his body resolved. Making him feel enough at ease to let go. He placed his feet firmly on the bed, using his knees to lift himself up, making you let out a yelp as he fucked your thighs.

The silk wasn’t enough to hold him back, the fabric tearing as he moved his wrists. His hands immediately found your head, holding you against him as his hips stuttered. Your moans were entangled in each other as he spilled his cum all over your ass. 

His stomach clenched underneath you, and you soothingly shushed him. Reassuringly caressing his chest and shoulders as he came down from his height.

-`♡´-

“You okay?” You softly mumbled once his heartbeat had calmed down.

He nodded, a lazy smile displayed on his lips. “I’m okay.”

“I wasn’t too rough with you. Was I?”

“No,” he answered, holding you closely against him. “You were perfect.”

[or0ch1maru]

••••••AFTER-CARE?•••••••

18+, mentions of rough sex, hook up/one night stand, sub drop, female reader. Fluff & cuddles, sweet ending ^.^

•

You’d heard stories from your girlfriends and some women from work about after care. The time to mentally settle down and do other soft things after sex, particularly rough sex. You have experience, being in a few different relationships and some one night stands but you never experienced the joy of after care

So when the time came that you and your hook up finished, you were already slipping your clothes back on. Getting ready to head back home now that things are done. Despite this heavy feeling weighing over your head.

“Where you going princess?” He asked, your ears perked as you looked at him over your shoulder. “Home, we’re done here aren’t we?” You replied softly, your tone even despite the nagging feeling behind it

“Nah, come lay down with me.” He said, his eyes scanning over your face, wondering if you had something important to attend too. When he noticed your hesitation, he stretched out an arm, his muscles protruding as he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you against his side.

Once he got you comfortable, your face nuzzled against neck, something overcame you and you couldn’t hold back. Tears started falling from your eyes, your hand gripping a small fistful of his shirt.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, his usual husky tone laced with concern as he took in how vulnerable you are. You shook your head in reply, trying to slow your breathing down enough to answer him.

“Ah, I see” he spoke gently, a large calloused hand pushing strands of hair out of your face. “You’ve never experienced this have you?” His voice is almost like a purr as he watches you reply with a no. He shifts his body once again, him laying flat on his back with you on top of him. Your face resting against his broad chest, his thick arms wrapping around your small frame. Holding you tightly against him

“Don’t worry doll, I’ve got you.” He murmurs. You feel his lips graze the top of your head as he presses a kiss against your hair.

“You’ll never feel that way again. Not ‘s long as I’ve got you”

•

TOJI, soft SUKUNA, NANAMI, Zetsu, Kisame, HIDAN, KAKUZU, OBITO, SATORU, SUGURU, Pain, orochimaru, Kenpachi, Renji

[superhoeva]

bouncer!logan spotting you at a halloween party he's working the door for. it's annoyingly cute how you fumble about when you find out that the there's a door fee and you have no cash.

he lets you squirm for a bit, enjoying the troubled expression on your face before the pinch of your eyebrows forces a sigh from him.

"okay look," the man starts, arms crossing as he motions for you to lean in. thinking for less than a second, you follow the direction, not catching the way logan drags a hard stare across you and your skimpy costume. "'m really not supposed to be doing anything like this. but one, i don't give a fuck. two, you're cute enough to break a few rules for."

with his jaw clenching at the way you can't hide your pleased grin, logan continues.

"gonna let you in for free, but you're gonna have'ta owe me a little somethin' in return."

an eager nod from you has logan biting his tongue. his hand reaches to rub at he growing hair of his beard, pretending to consider his options. finally, he speaks, purposefully lowering his voice so you have to shift even closer.

"use this pretty face and get me a couple'a free drinks? since you don't have any cash and all..."

"okay," you nod again, teeth grazing the corner of your bottom lip. "what do you have a taste for?"

logan's skin heats at your question, shoving the first answer that comes to the very back of his mind.

"nothing too sweet." he's got to save that craving for the possibility of tasting you. "just beer. nothing special."

you're a wizard. logan's certain of it after you bring him the fourth bottle of beer, this time with a glass of something for yourself.

"jesus," logan huffs. "you're wringing 'em dry in there, pretty."

you shrug at the man, slinking atop the stool he brought to keep his back from aching during his downtime. he can feel your eyes on him as he chugs down half the bottle, staring at the bobbing of his adam's apple as he drinks.

lowering the bottle, logan swallows and turns to you. your gaze flicks to the side of him, pretending like you weren't just oogling the shit out of him and how tight the black v-neck he's sporting is.

logan takes the thick silence as a chance to really look at you. take in your costume of black spandex shorts, blue crop top, and empty thigh holsters.

"lara croft," logan finally figures it out, and you grin a little over the rim of your glass. "...you wear her well."

another smile from you and logan nearly squeezes the bottle so hard it breaks. a tiny laugh from you breaks another round of heated silence.

"i miss somethin'?"

"no," you promise him. "it's just... i've spent more time out here than in there. even after you let me in for free."

logan sniffs, meeting your eyes in his lean across from you.

"don't worry, ms. croft. i definitely don't mind."

after that, you end up staying with him for the rest of the night. leaving you his seat, logan standing all broad and strong whenever someone enters, letting you hold the cash he collects from each patron. he sends a wink your way every time he turns to hand out the money but nearly growls out at anyone that asks about you.

"keep movin', bub," logan warns the latest inquirer who lets his eyes linger a little too long for your liking. the guy isn't smart enough to heed the first warning, going as far as ignoring logan to lean in your direction.

"come find me later, yeah?"

you don't get a chance to answer. logan's got him by the back of the neck, shoving him out into the cool fall air of tonight's evening without a second thought. dusting off his hand, logan ignores the man's whines about the cash he wants back, and turns to find you blinking at him with a squirm.

he steps to where you now stand with his eyes hooded, slicking out one of the tens from your grasp. neither of you says a word as logan folds the bill, and encircles his arms around you. your breath hitches at the hand logan plants on one of your asscheeks. he glides the money into your back pocket, biting his lip.

"my shift ends in an hour. i can show you an actual party worth your time if you're up for it..."

warm and dazed, you nod. logan grins a little, squeezing the flesh under his hand before returning to his post of strong, crossed arms and back turned to you while he faces the door.

logan grins again, this time wider, at the way he can feel your gaze burning a hole into his ass.

[tender-rosiey]

your heart — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: @callmemirro mentioned gojo holding his little baby girl once and it never got out of my head since then so here you go <33

after hours of going through a torturing labor, you can finally rest.

satoru has been by your side all of the time and his hand never left your own. he wipes the sweat off your face and brushes the hair away from eyes. he presses a kiss to your forehead, “you did so well.”

“of course, I did,” you say, out of breath then you raise your fist in victory, “I am…the strongest.”

he laughs and rests his head on your shoulder, “yeah, you’re and you’re going to be a wonderful mom too.”

“would you like to hold your daughter, miss gojo?” the nurse says when she enters, holding a small bundle that without a doubt has your little baby girl.

you nod as eagerly as you can and she hands her to you with a chuckle. you don't notice satoru tensing up as she nestles in your arms.

she is resting so contently. the moment you hold her, she almost instantly snuggles into your chest.

both of you are staring at her in wonder. her every little move a sight to be seen.

satoru calms down a bit and he just seems so captivated by her and his eyes trace her every feature.

he whispers softly, “she’s so pretty.”

you hum, “she has your hair,” your hold is already so protective of her and it tugs on satoru’s heart in a way he didn’t know was possible.

“and she has your nose,” he murmurs as his finger reaches to lightly touch her nose. she scrunches her nose softly and turns away from his finger and satoru gasps in awe.

his eyes wander to your face, “you’re holding her like it’s second nature,” he laughs lightly as he caresses your face.

you lean into his touch with a tired smile, “I am sure you will do better than me.”

satoru pulls back slightly and he looks at her then at you, “don’t be silly,” he laughs but it’s nervous almost scared.

you quirk an eyebrow, “what’re you so scared of, ‘toru? “ you chuckle fondly, “she won’t bite you.”

he rolls his eyes and his hand grazes her chubby cheek, “so funny,” he sighs, troubled as he looks at her, “I don’t want to…hurt her.”

you huff, signalling for him to be ready, “don’t be silly,” you slowly place her in his arms.

he panics at first and he would shout about your betrayal if it weren’t for her sleeping. then she is in his hold and he takes a moment to think: she fits perfectly in his arms.

your eyes soften at the sight. she is already small, but she somehow looks even tinier in his arms. you almost squeal at how content she looks as she also snuggles into him.

smart girl already knows her parents, “see, ‘toru? she loves you and you aren’t hurting her.”

“if you ask me,” you lay your head on his shoulder, noting how relaxed it has become, “I would say the safest place in the world for her is in your arms.”

you thank the heavens that you can see satoru’s eyes clearly, blindfold long forgotten. you’re able to instantly reach to wipe the tears streaming down his face.

he looks at you with a smile, amidst all the tears, “she is so tiny. I can fit her in just my hands.”

his gaze is full of adoration as he looks at her. the little life he is holding in his arms. the little life he created with you. to think that such a small thing will have him wrapped around her tiny finger oh so quickly.

he can’t help the joy he feels anymore.

a laugh escapes your lips when he starts cooing at his little girl, “papa is going to protect you, baby,” you pet his hair while he continues speaking to her, “I’ve been waiting for you, pretty.”

the both of you gasp when she stirs and her hand reaches for his finger, grabbing it like it’s her anchor. he looks at you, excitement brimming in his eyes as he whispers, “y/n! she is holding my finger!”

you nod and gently kiss her forehead, “and it’s barely enough to cover the top of your finger.”

you lay back down and with a content smile, you close your eyes. the fatigue of everything that happened is finally catching up to you. your eyes barely catch satoru nodding at you and kissing your forehead before you finally succumb to the slumber.

after making sure you're asleep, satoru starts rocking her gently, “mama is all tired, huh?”

he can’t get rid of the smile on his face, “we have to let her rest, right, baby?”

she stirs and satoru freezes. his breath is caught in his throat as she finally opens her eyes to the world. she takes her time as she slowly gazes around before she finally looks at her papa’s face.

a small content smile appears on her face as she coos at him, blue eyes like his own staring right at him. his eyes brighten as he watches her with a big smile, “you have my eyes, huh?”

he bends down a bit to be closer to her, “your mama is going to be so mad,” he lets out a watery laugh as he tries to compose himself. though, it’s all in vain when she reaches for his face.

it clicks in satoru’s head: she wants to wipe his tears.

he slowly pulls her into his chest once again and the tears finally freely fall to the ground. he lets out a shaky breath as light laughter tumble out of his lips, “not even ten minutes old and you are already so compassionate,” he hums quietly.

satoru wipes his tears with his sleeves, “you have your mama’s heart,” then his gaze drifts to you and he smiles, “that’s good.”

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