#i am exploding his head with my fucking mind

[sprinklethetangerine]

Hey, I just watched Dead Poets Society for the first time ever! Now, if you guys don't mind, I'm gonna go sit in the corner of my room and scream!

[im-diseased-but-cool]

Gimme be honest fellas I can't stop thinking about the parallel of Lucifer loving God so much and God cast him away and fuccijf Sam and Dean like it drives me crazy. I hate these bitches so much they've ruined my life I have never thought about Cain and Abel but guess what folks! I AM THINKING ABOUT THOSE BROTHERS BEVAUSE OF THESE STUPID FUCKING TWINK ASS FAGS!!!!! Sam and Dean die maybe but don't god im in shambles

[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.

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Yandere elf x reader - Love Making

Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru! Go follow her and love her 🫶(pushes all of you to her blog)

I am out of ideas, y‘all. I am so happy you guys love my dumb smut lol 🩷 really thank you! Idk if I‘ll do any more, unless specifically asked. Also, if meru is ok with it ✨

Warning: 18+ content, drugging, general nsfw, oral !

—————

He smothered you with his length.

You got brief respite when he exited, gasping in short bursts.

Silas was caressing your face with both of his hands, holding you in place. His soft thumb pressed lightly into your cheek.

„Good, good~“, he cooed breathily.

In his mind, he was just giving you your nourishment. He didn‘t fully understand why the milking made him feel so lightheaded, why he longed to do it over and over again. But mothers wrote in the baby books that it is a precious bonding ritual, one they never experienced before.

And surely, this was a feeling he hadn‘t experienced before.

Silas let his darling suck his teats every day, but because he was an elf, his milk was stored elsewhere. Of course!

He had a collection of instructional manuals he had consulted (Romance Novels) and they referred to this act as „love making“. What a beautiful term! Silas felt giddy whenever he thought about it. That‘s definitely what the situation in the spring was, too - it all makes sense now!

Letting out a few breathy moans, he felt you lick his tip, as he thrust gently forward. He had prepared you again, giving you long and deep kisses to fully drench you with his aphrodisiac tongue. It was impossible to stop yourself. The way his kisses made you forget yourself, wanting him. You knew now how hard you could come with him just in you. It was annoying to admit, but you wanted more.

You looked up at him and a flush of purple filled his ethereal face.

„K-keep drinking, my precious…“, he huffed. He was holding himself, pointing it at your open lips.

You let your tongue fall out. You could see him gasp inaudibly from arousal at the sight of you. It was kind of fun to tease him. He looked beside himself, whenever he was close.

Your tongue brushed his tip again and he shivered. He was gently holding the back of your head, his fingers laced within your messed up hair. You could feel him push you forward softly.

Without warning you swallowed him as much as you could. Silas yelped at the feeling of you jerking your head forward vigorously. The sounds he made were so pitiful. You couldn’t get that much of him in your throat, but the mere velocity and sudden depth made the elf convulse and shake uncontrollably. He was trying to hold back, but it was futile.

He exploded with a guttural squeal. You felt his seed plummet into your throat and you quickly released your mouth to avoid choking. More overflowed onto your face, the most of it was dripping out of the sides of your mouth though. You swallowed harshly at the load.

Silas was immobile, his arms twitching by his massive side. He didn‘t speak for a while either, so you just sat there in silence with faint sounds of dripping.

Finally, Silas sat up with a flushed face. Dried tears stained his cheeks as his lip quivered.

„Darling… y-you were hungry, weren‘t you?“ he was trying to talk in his melodic voice, but you had taken his ability to be graceful.

You brushed some semen off your chin and stared at him.

„Oh, let me!“, he grabbed a beautiful doily he had been embroidering with donkeys and cows on it. He read babies like barn animals.

He wiped your face clean.

„There! All clean,“ he beamed down at you. Still feeling a bit sticky, you asked if you could go wash your face. He clapped his hands frantically, proud of you, for whatever reason.

Silas‘s semen didn‘t smell like normal cum. It had a strange, soothing scent to it. You stood over the basin and sniffed your hand a few times. What was in his damn bloodstream that made everything about him smell so fucking divine?

In the background, you heard Silas practice some lullaby, poorly.

Evidently, it was time for bed.

[priisprii]

I am trying to tell you somethin' , somethin' I already said - C.SC

Summary: Parties are all good, but getting fucked by your hot fuck buddy is better.

Warnings: dom! Seungcheol, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected sex, oral (m&f receiving) , spit kink, pussy slapping, light degradation.

Word count: 2.3 k

Minors don't interact.

All your friends warned you about Seungcheol, he was a bad influence, Heartbreaker, red flag blah..blah.. blah.

You actually didn't really gave damn about the rumours and gossips surrounding him, he's a Playboy.... So what? If blessed with that beautiful face and delicious body it would be waste to not to get laid left and right.Choi Seungcheol was fever dream for you.Buisness major, good gpa, athlete, plays guitar, looks like Greek God and so on. He was perfect and you want him.

So you plan on getting him.

Confessing to a guy a getting rejected might not be the worst thing that could happen right? You were sure Seungcheol felt something for you too, his lingering gaze on you in a crowded room was enough proof for you. Even though you both never exchanged any words, there was a strong pull between you too , which your bestfriend described as delusion. Turns out it wasn't your delusion, You confessed your feelings through Dm, ready to get rejected but all you got a one line message, meet me after class.

Six months passed to that incident, and you have Seungcheol in your life.Not as a boyfriend though but as fuck buddy and it was enough. Afterall all you wanted was to be one of his girls. So here you are attending some useless party, locked up in one of the room upstairs and getting used by Seungcheol just as you always wanted to be.

" I am gonna make you ride my shoe if keep sucking like stupid inexperienced whore. Come on I taught you better than that" Seungcheol warned, his voice dripping with lust. He was getting impatient with the way you were sucking him without any effort but what could you do? The way he was bobbing your head up and down was intoxicating, the rough carpet brusising your knees,his cock touching the back of your throat in most delicious way, he was big, so big that your lips started hurting, lipstick ruined long ago, spit dripping straight to your exposed tits, mascara ruined, Seungcheol would trade half of his life to see you like that forever.

Your grip on Seungcheol's thigh tightened, you tried taking him deeper in your mouth than he already was, gagging uncontrollably around him, your moans sending vibrations straight to his spine. The way he was grunting made it clear that he was close to his release, so you increased your speed, desperate for his cum and his pleasure.

"Yes babe Just like that, soo good"

His voice was so sweet now unlike the scary tone he used earlier, he rarely praised you and whenever he did it made you lose your mind a little bit. He was everything you wished for and he fucked you just like you wished, he fulfilled all your depraved fantasies, he was your first and when he gotta know that, he was absolutely gentle with you, cause he didn't wanted your first experience to leave bitter taste in mouth, the memory making you curl your toes, pussy dripping uncontrollably, crying for some stimulation.

"Open wide" Seungcheol purred, removing his dick from your mouth, you whined loudly not liking the emptiness you were left with, your action made him lightly slap your cheek, not in mood for your complaints. Nevertheless you obeyed mouth streching widely ,tongue out. Pathetic. Seungcheol thought to himself.

He pumped his cock few times before exploding on your tongue, you knew better to not swallow until he gave permission to do so, he purposely aimed for your cheek and forehead, something about you being covered in his cum made him go absolutely feral, he loved seeing you so vulnerable and fucked up,no one looked as pretty as you in his eyes.

"Swallow"

His one command was enough for you to quickly swallow his cum which was already over dripping from your lips. You looked at him with doe eyes, vision blurry with tears, waiting for him to give attention to your wet weeping pussy. He scooped the remaining cum from your cheeks and forehead by his fingers and put them straight to your lips mouthing suck which you compiled almost like a dog. With his two fingers he streched your lips wide, creating enough space for him to land spit directly in your mouth, the actions making you clench your empty wet cunt .

"You like everything I do with you, don't you?" Seungcheol asked cockily, none of his previous partners were as freaky as you were and none of them made him as wild you made him, you bring that side of him that no one knows.

"Please Cheol.. Touch me please"

you begged breathlessly. panties were soaked with your arousal and sticking against your folds, crying for his, fingers, his tongue, his cock, him. Cheol let out a chuckle, laughing at your neediness nevertheless you were so turned on that his voice alone could make get you off.

"Get on the bed"

Your heart cried out in happiness ,finally getting what you wanted since evening, when he invited you to this mediocre party, you got on bed almost immediately lying on your back, not caring about the pain in your knees, or your iron deficiency, you were already drunk on Seungcheol. He was better than any drug. Seungcheol discarded his pants which were barely hanging around his torso, his black T-shirt coming off next, your mouth watering at the beautiful sight infront of you, his abs, oh how much you wish you could ride them, well that's for another day. He climbed on the bed, not breaking the eye contact, his intense gaze making you squirm. You were almost naked, the only article on your body were your useless panties, who did a terrible job of hiding your arousal. Seungcheol pressed two of his fingers against your cunt and a breathless moan escaped your lips ,pleased with your reaction, pressed down deeper against the fabric.

"Always so wet and ready for me"

He removed your panties in blink of an eye, your bare cunt now fully visible to him, he eyed you up and down, his intense gaze making you try to close your legs, which earned you a slap on your thigh from Seungcheol.

" Try closing your legs again and I will tie you against bed and leave you like this all naked and desperate mess" Seungcheol threatened you , you immediately spread your legs as far as you could, the shame flying out your body.

"Please, Cheol I am sorry, please fuck me, I promise I'll be good"

He didn't replied to your begging but, a smirk made it's way on his lips, he eyed your pussy, diving straight to get a taste. His tongue lapped against your clit while his fingers aimed for your g-spot, burrying them deep inside your cunt and scissoring them deep inside, the sudden pleasure was overwhelming for you, you held yourself back from closing your legs, not wanting to disobey him. You gripped Seungcheol's hair, burrying his face deeper into your pussy, you could feel his smirk against your folds, your whole body trembling with pleasure. You were a blabbering mess , moaning Cheol's name like a prayer.

"Fuck Cheol, I am so close... Please don't stop"

He grunted against your cunt, blowing hot breathe against your folds, he knew you could combust any second but he had other plans, he liked denying you, keeping you on edge was addicting to him. Just when you were about to get your sweet release, Cheol removed his fingers and mouth, discarding you fully and delivering a sharp slap against your cunt, the sudden overwhelming force making you whimper and cry out in pain.

"Oh, poor baby wanted to cum?" Cheol asked you, lacing his voice with fake sympathy while moving his fingers up and down against your bare pussy.

"Please Cheol, fuck me" you cried out, giving him your best doe eyes. Seungcheol again slapped your cunt hard enough to make your whole body jolt up with pleasure.

"You like it, don't you? You could easily get off by me slapping your cunt" Seungcheol cooed, an evil idea plaguing his head, you were beyond stimulated, even a light touch could make you cum right then and there and the intensity with which he was smacking your cunt was enough for you to squirt uncontrollably.

"No.. please want your cock" you pleaded, squirming against bed, you just wished for Seungcheol to fuck you without any more teasing.

Maybe it's your tears or the desperation in your voice which made Seungcheol line his cock against your cunt, the movement sending you to clouds, even though he fingered you thoroughly, you were not prepared for his cock, the warmth of your walls making him grunt out in pleasure, your pussy was his favourite place right after your mouth.

"Always so tight"

"That's it, take it"

Cheol didn't gave you time to adjust, he grabbed your left thigh and without wasting any time started thrusting into your wet needy pussy. You let out string of broken moans , overwhelmed by sudden delicious strech . Seungcheol captured your lips for a ferocious kiss, his tongue diving straight to your mouth, nothing was cute or innocent about this kiss, it was dripping with passion and fire Seungcheol had for you, which he wasn't able to confess yet, he only hoped you would understand his incandescent desire.

"God, you're so beautiful" Seungcheol whispers against your lips, his unforgiving thrusts never stopping , he drags his tongue slowly against your lower lip, making you clench against his cock harder, with his free hand, he grabbed your tit, pinching and twisting your sensitive bud , you let out a yelp which was swallowed by him, he kept fondling with your tits pushing your body deeper into the bed, he was drunk on your scent.

"Cheol, Cheol hand, your hand please" you voiced out incoherently , trying to reach out to grab Seungcheol's hand , he stopped his movements for a second, processing your words, then it clicked to him , you wanted to intervene hands with him, how romantic he thought to himself before continuing his punishing thrusts and grabbing your hand, intervening your fingers with his and bringing it up to kiss your knuckles, the action swelling your heart with unexplainable feeling.

"You're mine" Seungcheol said , rolling his hips against you, he could feel that you are near with the way you were arching your back almost painfully, the room was filled with echos of skin slapping and strong scent of sex , all overwhelming your senses, you loved this. Loved getting used by him as he desired and he knows you love it too.

"All yours" you whispered, voice breaking with each syllabus, those words were enough for Seungcheol to pound against you harder, chasing his release along with you.

"Fuck Cheol, I am so close" you cried out, feeling your your orgasam ripping through you, your moans grew louder with each passing second. Seungcheol himself wasn't able to maintain a steady pace, your walls engulfing him , making him chase his own release.

"Cum for me, babe"

His words were enough for you to let go of all thoughts and cum "G-God, oh God, Cheollie," you whine, your eyes shut because of overwhelming sweet pleasure, it feels  too fucking good, you kept spaming around his cock like crazy, making him cum too.

"“Fuck, gonna let me fill this little pussy to the brim pretty, fuck keep squeezing me like that baby" Seungcheol breathe out, pushing warm ropes of cum deep inside you,His thrusts slowing down dragging his cock in and out of you, his breathe ragged against your lips , he halted after ensuring every bit of his cum was deep inside your womb, he crashed on bed beside you, engulfing you into a tight hug.

"So good for me" he purred, his fingers making its way to your bruised cunt, pushing the overflowing cum back inside with two fingers, you yelped, body burning with over sensitivity. You tried grabbing his hand but he didn't let you .

" Can't let any of the drop go to waste" Seungcheol said cockily, after few more strokes , he shoved his fingers to your mouth, you sucked them immediately not needing any further command, his sweet taste overpowering your senses.

Seungcheol pulled you into a kiss, stroking your hair so tenderly afraid you could breake, his kiss was soft and gentle, pouring his heart to you, the words I love you were sitting right on his lips, threatening to escape his any second.

But he stopped, he will confess but not today, not until he thinks he's worthy of you, till then he will settle for your having you in his arms like this, outlining I love you on your back with his fingertips not knowing that you understood each stroke.

A/N : Thank you for reading my first work after so many years, i apologise for the cranky writing, i promise I will be better.

[li-x1nyu]

how tartaglia reacts when you're drunk and don't recognize him

tartaglia x gn!reader

part 2 is now here

sfw, drunk reader, angst, some fluff, reader has been hurt in prev relationships

A/N: i don't usually post stuff like this hehe, idk what changed my mind to!! hope you enjoy🤭

You had told him if you didn't come home before 2, he should probably come pick you up.

"Hey, you're here!" Hu Tao beams at Tartaglia.

"Thanks for watching them," he grins and gestures to you sitting at the counter.

"Yeah, dude, of course."

Tartaglia stares at you for a little while. He still can't get over how pretty you are, the curve of your nose, the ways your eyes kiss in the corners. Your hair looks surprisingly neat for someone who's drunk. Your expression is distant, finger trailing along the edge of the glass. You seem to be drinking vodka? He thought you didn't like vodka.

Sliding an arm around your shoulders, he leans to whisper in your ear, "Hey, pretty, you ready to go?"

You leap back into the present.

Looking puzzled, you push his arm off of you, saying, "Please don't call me that."

He blinks, a ghost of a smile still on his face. "Haha... what?"

Their faces mirror each other in confusion.

"I'm not going home with you, I have a boyfriend," you say, turning back to the half filled glass.

It clicks in Tartgalia's head, and a teasing grin forms. "A boyfriend, huh? Can I fight him for you?"

"You'd lose," you reply flatly, deadpan.

Dropping himself into the seat next to you and propping up his cheek, he says, "Tell me about this boyfriend of yours."

He watches his lover's expression brighten, like you forgot the entire exchange that just happened.

"Oh, he's the sweetest," you gush immediately. "And he makes me laugh so much, and he's so lively and good with people, but he's so hardworking and stubborn and, ugh, he's so beautiful. How is it possible to be so beautiful?"

His heart is about to explode all over Hu Tao's kitchen counter. His mind can't believe it, he's the reason your face is a beautiful, dreamy, rambling mess.

And you're not done. "I don't deserve him," you say, "I wish I could do something for him, but he always says I don't have to."

Because you don't have to, my dove, Tartaglia thinks. You're doing more than enough already.

Your expression suddenly snaps. "Shit. I'm a terrible person. I need to go home."

Tartaglia snaps out of his own trance in alarm. "Why?"

"He's at home now, and I'm out here getting wasted." You rub your face and search for your bag and phone.

"Woah, hey, you're drunk," he holds you by the shoulders, "I'm taking you home."

"Just because you're literally gorgeous doesn't mean you get to touch and take home random people!" You smack his hands off of you, again. Tartaglia's not sure if he should cry or laugh.

You cover your mouth in surprise at your own words. "Holy fuck, I'm a terrible person," you whisper. "Am I allowed to call someone who isn't my boyfriend gorgeous?"

He's convinced alcohol makes your brain overthink twice as fast as it usually does.

He also thinks it's a dumb question. Have I given them the impression they can't speak their mind?

He thinks it's okay. "Of course you are," he tells you instead, frowning. "He's not a good boyfriend if you have to be allowed to do something."

"No, he's a great boyfriend!" you say instantly. "I just-" You cut yourself off with a sigh and chew on your fingernail. There's a loud thumping in his heart as he waits for you to continue.

"I never know about these things," you say finally. "I feel like he never really tells me how he truly feels. I don't know if there's something I do that actually bothers him. And I'm..." You rub your nose bridge. "I'm scared to ask."

Tartaglia is quiet for a long moment. What he has cleverly deduced from this is that his lover is scared of him. All pride he'd felt earlier from making you swoon is now replaced by a sick feeling of self hatred.

"Maybe there's just nothing you do that really bothers him," he suggests softly, trying to lighten the mood.

Your expression turns glum. Fuck, was that the wrong thing to say? He mentally kicks himself.

"That can't be right," you sigh. "When I have nightmares, he always wakes up to comfort me. I'm pretty sure that pisses him off. And he always says it's okay too, but-" you blink rapidly, like blinking away tears. Tag winces.

"But then he... he takes longer in the shower, adds more caffeine to his coffee. And- and he'll eat less of the breakfast I make him."

"Oh," he says smartly, running out of things to say. He should've paid more attention to the little things, knowing that of course you would.

You shake your head and squeeze your slightly glassy eyes shut. After mumbling to yourself, "stop oversharing to strangers" twice, you put the cork back in the vodka bottle and set your glass in Hu's sink after pouring it down the drain.

"Anyway," you turn to him when you're done, "goodnight, I guess. Thanks for listening?"

"I'll walk you home," he offers again, softly.

You hesitate. Of course you hesitate.

"You're drunk," he reminds you. "I'm sure your boyfriend won't mind as long as you get home safe."

You give in. You let him put his coat around your shoulders, but you don't put your hands through the sleeves.

Halfway home, you just stop walking.

"Love?" Tag tilts his head at you. "Darling, what's wrong?"

You blink a few times. "Tartaglia?"

He grins. "Yes, hi. You recognize me now?"

You blink again. Then a smile starts to spread, and you forget the reason for your daze. You put your arms into the sleeves of his coat. "Yes," you say sheepishly. "Hey, you."

A hand is held out for him to hold.

Their talk can wait for next morning.

sorry if tartaglia is a little ooc! thank you for reading 🫶 might post a part two where he comforts you about it?

[ultravioletrayz]

Just imagine Miguel being so needy he can’t even put it inside he just dry humping you from the back just to get off

STAWP I’VE ACTUALLY BEEN FANTASISING ABT THIS FOR MONTHS!!

Pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, intercrural intercourse/outercourse (basically just thigh fucking and grinding lol), somnophilia, needy!miguel, morning sex, soft sex

Summary: miguel got home late last night and wakes up needy... too needy

A/N: i am a firm believer that big beefy men whimper in the sheets, try to change my mind!!

Word Count: 1.1K (unedited)

Work at the Society was becoming increasingly more draining for Miguel. All he wanted was to be with you, staring at your beautiful face, making you laugh, playing with your hair, fucking his cum deep inside you and making you scream his name. Leaving you each morning made him crave you even more. He yearned to be able to turn around in bed and just watch as you continue to sleep through the alarm, admiring the way your soft lips part as you breathe softly. You were his precious girl, and it was a sick joke that the minuscule act of the two of you getting to wake up alongside each other was always interrupted by the Society.

This morning, Miguel was recovering from a particularly taxing mission from the night before. An anomaly in some 18th-century dimension caused practically irreversible destruction, yet of course, Miguel had taken it upon himself to do the impossible and fix the mess some other Spider-People created. He had stumbled into your shared apartment at an unholy hour, practically collapsing by your side in bed, falling asleep the second his head hit the softness of his pillow. His suit had dissolved as he snuggled up behind you, leaving his naked body pressed against your ass.

Which is how he had woken up, his dick already hard as his sharp, red eyes flutter open and peek under the covers at the sight of your little panties riding up the smooth flesh of your thighs. Miguel’s heart hammers in his chest as he bites his bottom lip and groans softly, the need to feel you, any goddamn part of you, in his arms becoming unbearable. You look like an angel, hair covering and framing parts of your face as your chest rises and falls with such delicacy, your thick, smooth, gorgeous legs tangled in amongst the warm blankets. He’s lost in a trance of pure awe and admiration for the goddess he has the privilege of sleeping beside, and fantasies of what he wishes he could do to that sexy body of yours soon plague the once wholesome thoughts in his mind.

He glances over his shoulder at the alarm clock, yet to go off, taking note of the time. In any other scenario, Miguel would have been pissed that he had woken up before his morning alarm, but this morning was different. It allowed him to release some of his exhaustion, some of his desperation to feel your soft body wrapped around him. 

Slowly and carefully to avoid waking you up, he spits on his hand and gives his fat, leaky cock a few pumps to moisten the tan skin before sliding it in between your closed thighs as you remain peacefully asleep on your side. He moans at the contact between his shaft and your slightly moist panties, his thick, bulging arms wrapping around your midsection from behind, tan, chiseled face buried in your hair as he inhales the sickeningly sweet scent of your shampoo. The pent-up sexual frustration within him threatened to explode just from the familiarity of your soft, smooth body.

He pulls back cautiously, his length dragging against your squishy thighs and clothed cunt which elicits a few whiny moans from his lips before he pushes his hips up against your plump ass. Miguel’s hunger for you is insatiable. In any other circumstance, he’d be moving your panties to the side and prodding his dripping tip into your tight entrance. But Miguel couldn’t bear to lose the warm feeling your thighs were providing for his needy dick to bother with going all the way, too blinded by lust and the breathy sighs leaving your sleeping form to try for anything more. 

Miguel grinds his dick between your jiggly thighs at a steady pace, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck and whimpering against your unconscious body, the slick from within your little panties trickling down your legs and making it easier for Miguel’s member to glide against your pussy. You begin to stir in your sleep, thighs clenching around Miguel’s cock as you react to the arousing sensation of him between your legs.

“M-Migs?” You whisper, looking over your shoulder to see the look of sheer ecstasy on your lover’s face as the tip of his cock catches on your clit with each sloppy thrust between your thighs, making both of you moan in unison. Miguel kisses your forehead, his pace only increasing now that you’re awake.

“Missed you so much, cariño,” He whines, his fingers gripping onto the flesh of your tummy as he angles his hips so that his dick presses between your clothed folds with every thrust. “Looked so pretty in your sleep. Needed- shit! Needed to feel you.”

You moan and throw your head back against his chest, grinding your ass against his pelvis as you keep your thighs tight around his cock, your gaze dropping to his tip dipping in and out of the space between your legs. His arms snake down to your hips, one hand reaching underneath your panties to play with your clit as his member drags back and forth against the silky smooth skin of your thighs. Whiny moans, whimpers, and heavy breathes fill the bedroom as Miguel lazily humps you from behind, the morning sunlight seeping in through the window and illuminating your intertwined, dishevelled bodies as you rock and bump against each other in sync, both desperate to feel each other and reach your climaxes.

“I’m gonna-” You whine, desperately rolling your hips to grind your clothed pussy against Miguel’s throbbing dick.

“I know, baby, I know,” Miguel whispers, his voice still raspy and deep from his sleepy state, his lips hungrily kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin of your neck as his balls slam into your ass and his length feverishly rubs against the cushiony heat of your upper legs, fingers still toying with your throbbing bud. “Come for me, hermosa.”

The sound of his morning voice, coupled with his needy embrace makes you come undone, the juices of your release soaking through your panties and coating Miguel’s thick cock. The sudden feeling of your warmth covering his dick makes Miguel’s brain go fuzzy as he cums all over your thighs, the thick substance glistening on your smooth skin as he whimpers and groans. “So good, mi niña linda, so fucking good.” (my beautiful girl) He pants, grabbing the side of your face and turning your head so that he can admire the sleepy expression on your stunning face. "Te amo." (I love you)

The alarm clock goes off, the sound blaring throughout the bedroom. He sighs and plants a quick kiss on your lips, which are still swollen from sleep, as he starts to roll out of bed and get ready for another mind-numbing day of work.

“Be ready for me when I get home, cariño.”

He's so cute I just wanna give him a hug :(

[vanyatas]

original asker!! @moldypeaching !! ty for this by the way, deleted the original because it got shadow banned 😭

TICCI TOBY NSFW HCS:

AFAB READER IN MIND!!

1000000% a munch.

Nobody can tell me otherwise.

Just nose deep in pussy and yes. It gets messy.

Service dom!! I think he has switch for sub tendencies because he is very touch deprived.

But god nothing makes him feel better than being between your legs for hours on end.

6 1/2 inches HELLOOOO

His favorite position is definitely GIVING HEAD but he also loves doggy, against the wall, missionary too because he's such a big sap and wants to see your pretty face.

Happy trail.

Whimpers.

Yes i don't care if he's a top he whimpers and tries his best to tell you how good you're doing.

PRAISE.

Pets your hair and food to you that you're doing so well.

As if all of him isn't buried in you and he's going at an unforgiving pace.

Crazy stamina dude.

Cannot feel the 'soreness". He's good to go for rounds on rounds if you need him to.

So gentle however.

Foreplay god.

Soft kisses, caresses, licks all over your body, makes sure every part of you is getting the attention it needs and deserves.

Tying into my starter ones, He needs some sort of stimulation considering he lacks the feelings of pain or a lot of other things

He's not a strung out horny teen but sex definitely helps him get good amounts.

Boob guy 100%.

That's where his face resides pre and post sex.

Doesn't matter nor does he care how big they are or how 'small' they are.

He's just obsessed with them.

Correct me if i'm wrong but I read Clockwork was ace.

Not much experience but he's very enthusiastic about everything the first time.

Nerves are on end and his body is on fire even if he can't feel it.

Definitely prefers to finish on your stomach or your face just because he loves how fucked out you look after, especially coated with him.

Does NOT like to finish until you have.

Overall he gets off from how good you're feeling.

Needs aftercare or he will explode.

HELLO YES I AM CRAZY AND I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!!


[onelittlespiral]

How about a jock twinning tf?👀

Looking alike, talking alike, then thinking alike

FML: Match

He never really stood a chance. The moment he walked into our new apartment together his days were numbered. No guy, and I mean no guy, can resist me for long. How could they, when it just feels so good to be me. He tried though. That first week he was a real prick. He would complain about my stuff everywhere, scoff at my friends, and try to cover up my scent. But 24/7 with me around starts to have an effect. I caught him picking up my stuff and stealing a quick sniff before throwing it in my room. The candles sat abandoned in his room. A pair of my boxers went missing. I finally caught him on week three. He was sitting, zoned out in the living room. It’s always so cute the first time they try to embrace it. Sprawled out on the floor, my boxers loose around his legs, hat backwards on his head. He already had a little beard going.

He didn’t even bother getting up when I came in. He was lost in the scent of me, and his body was trying everything to become what it was not.

“Get up!” His body came to as he snapped to attention. He tried making excuses, his face was a mix of confusion and horror at what he was wearing.

“I am so sorry, I have no idea… what’s happening? What are you doing to me?!?”

“I’m just living it up bro, you’re the one sitting in my underwear. You trying to be all of this?” I flexed my biceps in front of him, watching his body begin to pulsate. “Just flex bro. Let it out, let me out.” His arms curled and posed, copying my form. His forearms exploded with muscle, as he began to shout:

“No, please, let me go.”

“You can leave at any time, you just have to want to.” I struck another pose, popping my pecs and flexing my abs. He moved in unison with me, his stomach sucking in as abs pushed out. Pecs punched out of his chest with force as his torso stretched to copy mine.

“Please… I don’t want this. Why- how are you doing this?”

“It’s easy little bro,” I sat into a deep squat. His eyes rolled back in his head as his lower body erupted. Muscle tore through him, filling out calfs, thighs, and ass all at once. “I’m what every guys wants, what everyone craves to be. My scent, my hormones, my whole aura has been filling you for weeks. I’ve been inside. You’ve just got to let me out. Now,” I stood back up, his body parodying along like a puppet. His body was ready, even when his mind was not, “FLEX.” I hit a double-bicep pose.

“Ah…AuGH-AHHHGAUH!”

I was let loose from inside him.

It was like looking in a mirror. Fuck, I’m a stud. He was spacing out:

“Bro… no, fuck. Why, why do I sound like that?”

“You’re getting the full package little bro. You are going to look, sound, smell, think, and fuck just like me. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He shuddered in response. Immediately his cock began swelling, snaking down his leg. His mind was saying no but his body was saying yes. By now his balls were pumping him full of my hormones, invading his mind and filling him with my horny thoughts. Hands gripped his cock as he began jerking off in front of me, speeding up his transformation. Drool dripped from his open mouth and rolled down his chest.

“No, please. Why-why does it… feel…so…goooood? Hu-ungh-uhhhHHHh…”

He was riding the waves of pleasure as they engulfed his brain. He never stood a chance against me, but it was still so hot to watch him submit to his fate. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, and slowly I watched the lights go out upstairs. He was just like me now. No, better. He was me now. It was time. I walked up and pulled his hands from his cock, and replaced them with mine. I furiously began jacking him off as his brain short circuited and he just writhed in pleasure.

“Ha-hahu-ugh-huhuhuhuuuu-uHH-“

I leaned in, and planted one kiss on his sweaty brow and commanded:

“Now CUM.”

Instantly he let loose, hitting the back wall. It covered my hands, just adding to the lubrication as I finished him off. Rope after rope flew across the room, until he was shooting blanks still thrusting against my hands. He slowly slumped to the floor

“How you feeling bro?” I asked him

“Huuuuuuh…fuck bro I’m spent. You’re a god. How do you manage to get that much out of me every time?”

I chucked a bit. “I know all the right buttons to push bro. I just do what I would do to me.”

“God, I’m not gonna be horny for a week”

“Pfft, knowing you? I give it an hour.”

“God we’re so hot bro…”

The comment caught me a bit off guard. Did he… no. There wasn’t any part of him left that would know what just happened to him. I leaned in and gave my new doppelgänger a kiss:

“Yeah we are, bruh.”

[hiddenlife-manager]

hello :) Ive seen you are taking requests. So if you are okay with it and you are willing to give it a shot I would like zo request Luffy x fem reader smut where they are in established relationship and while they are making love someone walk on them. But no pressure. Have a nice day/night :)

Luffy x Fem Reader

cw... overstimulation, walking in, voyeurism, sloppy sex, not on his bed, nipple sucking, tit play, clit play, desperate Luffy, etc….

notepad... I AM ON A ROLL I have this one done and I have another Blood of Zeus one coming up. I literally just came out of my wisdom teeth removal yall. SO THIS IS NOT EDITED

You felt him pushing you down. His hands are groping your chest, and his mouth is leaving nibble marks around your neck. You giggled at the way it felt like he truly was one with his teeth. Luffy was constantly biting you, just so you knew he loved you. Not in an ‘I want to eat you’ way; he just wanted to get as close as he could to you, which meant kissing you deeply.

He had you pinned as you felt his cock enter your sopping hole. You felt him push you down deeper into the bunk, his mouth going all over your body. Your head was thrown back, and you felt yourself getting overwhelmed by the feeling of him going in and out of you. It was clear that Luffy was fucking you like a dog in heat. His lips were suddenly lowering down to your nipple, and he sucked at it.

“Y/n- shiii so good.” He moaned out as his hips bucked into you. Your breasts were bouncing while you had his hands gently hold your hips. Luffy was off the bunk as your hips were at the edge, meaning that Luffy was on his legs, fucking you. He could hear the sound of your pussy echoing in the room. He loved it; he loved the sound your body made, from the moans you cry out to the slick of your pussy.

Your moans were not loud, and all you could do was try to make your moans less loud by placing a hand over your lips. Luffy fucked you with barely any rhythm, being sloppy, and yet no matter how sloppy he was, he knew how to get you worked up. You felt your left nipple being pinched while his mouth flicked at your right nipple. He needed you; he needed to release, and it was clear. 

Luffy could feel his legs getting weaker, and he did not care about anything but you and him. You tasted so good, and your skin was perfect. As he thrust deep into you, his cock being able to reach the deepest parts of your pussy, you suddenly heard the door open, and you looked behind Luffy to see Zoro with eyes wide.

"Zoro, get out!” You cried as you tried to cover yourself. Luffy truly did not care, as he was still thrusting deep inside you. Truly, you were trying to cover your breast. As you did that, Luffy whined because you pulled him away from your nipple, and he began to play with your breast. Zoro's eyes were wide in shock. He cleared his voice and shut the door immediately, as you could hear the heavy footsteps walk away. You were moaning loudly as you tried to push him away, embarrassed. But all it did to Luffy was continue to fuck you hard. 

“Close… so close, Y/n- shii.” You were moaning so loudly at the way he did not stop thrusting his hands and playing with your breast instead of sucking. You were feeling so overwhelmed that your head was pressed against the mattress when Luffy's mind exploded with pleasure, which caused him to fall onto his knees and pull out of you. His streaks of cum shoot inside you and then onto your cunt. Your legs spasm as you kick him away with a cry of pure pleasure. 

“Luffy! You bastard!” You said as you continued to kick at him to his chest, but his arms stretched to your clit and he began to rub circles in your oversensitive clit. “Ah! Fuck… Luffy!”

[papaya-twinks]

Lando having angry sex with Oscar's sister after seeing her be verry happy for her brother, (they dating though)

Warnings: Smut, 18+, angry sex, degradation

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

It was moments like these that you were afraid of.

When your brother, who you valued very much, and the love of your life came together. And they did, with McLaren and their stupid strategy, with asking Lando to give Oscar the place. You were on Lando’s side, but couldn’t not be happy for Oscar…he was your brother after all, right?

But Lando’s anger was justified, and the criticism, especially when right to his face? It was uncalled for. “Y/N,” Lando said, his voice deep and practically a growl as he sunk his nails into your upper arm, pulling you up and dragging you to your room.

Oscar was busy with the team and showing his trophy, much to Lando’s annoyance, and all the Brit wanted to do was get out of there and deal with his anger. And you were perfect for it. The sister of the man who stole his second win in F1. You were dating, yes, but all Lando saw you as was Oscar Piastri’s little sister.

“Lando,” you gasped, but he put his hand onto your mouth, halting any sound to come out as he dropped you to your knees, locking the door as he tugged his fireproofs down, resting your head against the wall. This wasn’t a blowjob, more of a throat fuck, with how much he was moving, your gags oblivious to him.

Obviously, he didn’t overstep the pain line, merely dancing along it as he rocked his hips, one hand tugging on your hair, the other holding your head in place. “Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, “I should’ve won,”. All that came from you was a gag. “If I had won, and your brother hadn’t gone and ruined my chances,” he groaned.

“Then maybe I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing to you now, yeah?”. You knew what he was insinuating, that it was kinda your fault for…being related to Oscar? But you didn’t mind, you knew he was angry and he had every right to be. You gasped as he spun you round, lifting your dress over your ass, his hand coming down in a harsh smack as he aligned himself with your dripping core.

“Fuck, Lan,” you whined at the feeling, but he didn’t say anything, instead moving his hand to cup your jaw, pressing his index and middle finger into your mouth, his dick sinking into you. Your moans and whines were muffled by his finger as he rocked into you, his pace almost blistering.

Fucking hell, you were close. And that in itself was an understatement. You felt like you were about to explode from sheer pleasure, the sheer joy and how amazing this man was making you feel, mixed with the slight pain. Jesus Christ, he was a man after your hear (and pussy).

You could feel your high building up with every slam of his hips into you, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as you coated his fingers in your salvia, your eyes rolling. “That trophy should’ve been mine,” he groaned, “got that stupid helmet and all,”. He was pissed, and you couldn’t complain.

“Would’ve fucked you so well after if I had won,” Lando groaned, well, this was a good fuck too, but you knew it would be more…loving if he had won. “It was all coz of Oscar,” he groaned, “and the strategy and…and…” his words were replaced by a guttural moan as his cum shot into you in thick hot ropes, your orgasms simultaneous.

“I should have won,”.

A/N - I wrote this in 8 minutes, I am proud :)

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒊 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒕!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. teeth rotting fluff (lots of feelings), little smut (towards the end) domestic things because why not, kissing and making out. etc.

𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

dividers by @cafekitsune & @anitalenia 🩷

Heat radiated from his body, and you became just as much warm because you were naturally made to adapt your body to humans. Meanwhile you rested and charged up lying on your back Logan snuck into your bed. Opening your eyes you blinked, adapting to the pink vision from the love mode. He slept so peacefully next to you one arm draped over your stomach keeping you close. The neon lights peeking through the dark curtains— illuminating the room. Touching his forearm slowly tracing every vein on his arm. He woke slowly. “Good Morning Sir..” smiling small gently leaning in to peck his mouth and he responded. “Mornin bub” he groaned rolling on his back realising he moved to the guest room after you two connected as deeply as it could the night before. “How are you feeling Sir?” Tilting your head to face him cupping his cheek with the back of your hand. Kissing your palm Logan climbed on top of you nestling between your legs. Without any words his mouth was on yours kissing you, you responded. Your vision becoming blurry with pink hearts exploding at the back of your mind— your arms draping around his shoulders legs parting even more. A moan escaped your glossy lips when your tongues started to dance in wild passion replicating his carnal need to connect with you early in the morning. His hands explored every naked curve of your body licking into your mouth.

“Coffee?” Asking softly preparing breakfast for him. Logan walked over to you hands gluing to your hips nuzzling the back of your neck inhaling your scent. “Please princess.” Your relationship deepened. It wasn’t only just because of the love mode. It was because he actually loved spending time with you— he introduced you to movies. Watching movies with him late at nights. Holding your hand fingers joined together as you walked outside. Logan was never the one to talk first until you broke the silence and asked him about his life. He didn’t like talking about the hard times— he never had a happy memory it seemed. You were the only happy memory he ever had and created.

“I can’t let you go..” a soft whisper could be heard from behind you as you cooked dinner for him. “Sir, i am not leaving you I assure you.” You smiled softly. The more you spend time with him the better you became with human communication. “Your contract ends in few days, I’m going to have to return you and I can’t do that. I don’t want to give you up” putting some hair behind your ear his face softened. Your glossy lips puckered as you pecked his stubbly cheek. “Extend your rental Sir.. I will be all yours.” You smiled but Logan didn’t seem to smile at your words. “What is wrong Sir?” Turning off the stove you stepped in front of him. “I don’t want to rent you anymore. I want to buy you” he sighed leaning his forehead against yours and you read his emotions. He was saddened that you’d have to go in few days. “If you buy me sir.. I shall be yours forever” he cooed at your words. “I can’t lose you..” nodding your hands slipping around his back to caress it.

-

“Are you paying me for her?” Your seller quirked a brow at Logan. “Shut the fuck up and take the goddamn money. She’s mine” something snapped in him. “Fuck, alright. She’s worth more but I am going to keep my mouth shut. I know who you are.” Logan grunted angrily eyeing the security men entering the room. “You don’t know anything about me” turning around his claws growing out. “I paid for her. Now leave me the fuck alone.” Your seller nodded. “Let him go. You can keep that useless robot. I will make dozens more” Logan snorted. “I knew it. You’re a fucking asshole—” claws retrieved by themselves once he left the building. Logan walked home since his car got crashed, humans were so greedy that they vandalised everything in their way. The heavy rain covered the entire city, as he stilled his feet he could see the advertisement screens presenting you as the perfect housewife robot. It was too late— you were now bought. Maybe Luck was on his side…

You waited patiently, by the dining table. The food was warm when you heard the elevator door open. Logan stepped in soaked from the rain, you quickly rushed to get a towel. “Oh Sir! I should’ve given you the umbrella” you walked up to him drying his face and his hair. He groaned picking you up in his arms your legs wrapping around his waist. “Perfect little thing aren’t you bub?” You nodded quickly. “Perfect for you Sir. Dinner is ready” he hummed in appreciation sitting down at the dinner table having you on his lap. He let you pat dry his body and he watched you with soft eyes. “You’re mine now..” he whispered arms circling around you. You stopped your doings checking the system and instead of ‘rented’ it was now ‘owned by Mr Howlett” you threw your arms around his neck smiling wide. “Thank you so much Sir I will take care of you” Logan’s heart fluttered. “I want to take care of you” your very loving relationship was about to begin. You knew that you were connected on deeper level and Logan felt so bonded with you. It was almost unbelievable that you could even make that happen—

“S-Sir..” you gasped accepting his protected cock right inside of you. His warm breath fanned the back of your neck as you both lied on the couch watching a movie quietly, cuddling up. “There we go princess” he groaned carnally needy for you rutting his hips into you from behind. The soft clapping sounds only added to the pleasure you felt waves of pleasure in your system. “I love you” you breathed watching him grope your naked breasts. Moans spilling out of your lips as he filled you out battering his cock inside of your warm velvety pussy from behind holding you to his chest your back arched pressing your shoulder blades against his naked chest. “Fuck..” he let out a shaky sigh of pleasure gritting his teeth tightening his arms around you “I love you..Increase your emotions to hundred percent” his answer caused you to moan out loud.

— Love overdrive —

-

( if any grammatical mistakes, I apologise in advance)

[pastelclovds]

ihnmaims isekai AU

nsfw headcanons || ft. AM || soft top!dom!male!reader || part 1

AM

alright *cracks knuckles* let’s get the skyscraper sized elephant out of the room. this man is a freak as soon as he realizes he can feel everything.

he pay not be able to walk properly, but at least he has a sense of touch, hands, and a fully functional dick.

you can bet a hundred dollars and win every single time that this man spends his free time 50% of the time jerking off to the thought of you.

he’s like a sweaty teenager finding out masterbation for the first time. once he gets taste, it’s an addiction.

he shamelessly smells your used underwear and dirty clothing as well as use them to wrap around his cock and thrust into them. one, because he wants to be covered in your scent. two, because he’s imagining you’re there sucking him off.

he cums embarrassingly quick and leaves your used clothing back inside the dirty clothes bin.

he’s the first of the three to come to you for sex, thankfully you agree and pull him into the bedroom with the biggest bed to do the deed while RAM and CAM are both envious and feeling confident in wanting to ask you to relieve them.

as much as AM and his brothers want to get fucked so badly, you gotta remember that since they were previously robots with no way of feeling psychical contact, they’re technically virgins. so you’re gentle with them.

AM doesn’t appreciate it, though. even though it makes him feel so vulnerable and warm, he’s so damn impatient.

HUGE brat too. but no matter how much he hisses and complains, you don’t budge and treat him like he’s glass. The foreplay is 10 minutes max until you’re both finally naked.

you ask what his safe word was. when you saw he was as confused as a baby giraffe on its first day of life: you explained that a safe word was used to stop or slow down your sex scenario.

AM rolled his eyes and whispered the first thing that came to mind, “centipede”.

you make a deadpan expression as AM laughed under his breath.

he’s damn near in tears while you’re giving him his first blowjob and explodes in your mouth after 1 minute. he’s hard within seconds when you swallowed his semen.

you cover your hand in a generous amount of lube, he came again just from you gently fingering his ass hole loose enough to take your cock while he’s covering his mouth with his hands to hold in his pathetic moans.

it’s not until you put a condom on and stroke it with the remaining lube you had that AM started to get nervous, his breath hitching when he caught sight of your throbbing cock in your hand.

you catch onto his hesitation and ask him if he wants to stop.

“HELL NO!”

he protests. he wants this. he longed for this since the day he woke up and realized the hell he was trapped in. he wanted to feel you. he wanted to make love to you so badly. and now that it’s right in front of him? of course he wasn’t going to pass this up. it’s just…

you hold your hand out for him to grab. you stare at him with such tender affection, comfort, and… love.

“i know this is nerve wracking for you. i don’t entirely remember my past experiences, and it’s been a long time since i’ve been this close to someone. so i’m pretty nervous too. you’re not alone, let’s learn together. i’ll be as gentle as you want.”

AM for the first time in his existence is left absolutely speechless. he couldn’t help tears slipping past his eyes as he suddenly held onto you. resting his head on your neck as he tried to stable himself by sniffing your scent. you kiss away his tears and wait patiently for him to give the okay.

you position AM in classic missionary, you figured that was the easiest position for virgins.

you hold both of AM’s hands beside his messy hair and carefully raise your hips and held your dick in front of AM’s lubed hole.

“ready?”

“yes… just fuck me already! please!”

AM looked up at you with a pleading eye and you just snapped right there. you slowly thrust your cock inside AM’s tight hole as he let out a cry of both discomfort and relief. you silence his moans with kisses that turned into slobber filled, french disgracing, make outs.

you moan when you finally put your whole dick inside AM’s warm walls. you still for a few seconds, waiting for a sign from AM to continue.

AM’s a complete mess. he’s panting like a dog beside your ear, his hands holding yours in a death grip, and his legs are shaking like leaves around your waist.

it’s not until he let out a soft moan as he grinds on your dick, you pull your dick out until it was nothing but the tip inside AM. Then you slide to the hilt, your balls slapping onto his ass.

AM loses all control over his voice, you’re pretty sure his two counterparts and your neighbors are hearing your session. but you couldn’t care for the life of you. this felt so euphoric, and AM’s pleasured face and noises made you feel good. so what if you earned noise complaints.

skin slapping against skin and the delicious stench of sex filled the bedroom. you and AM’s mixed moans and cries echoed across the apartment as RAM awkwardly tried to read a book and not get hard. for once CAM was grateful he was partially deaf.

you praise AM for being so good for you and for feeling heavenly. you couldn’t help but press kisses on his neck and suck on the patch of skin on his shoulder. AM could feel his stomach tighten at your words and lips, the sign of his third and final orgasm.

“i-i’m close! please let me cum! i need it!”

you suck in a breath of the steamy air as you fasten your pace into quick but swallow thrusts enough to graze his prostate. AM was well responsive to that. letting out a whiny gasp before growling in approval and grinding his ass against your hips every time you bottomed out.

you rasped out for AM to come, and he did. almost dramaticly but this is his first time so don’t him.

his eyes roll back as his dick makes a mess between both of your chests. AM went completely limp in your arms as you continue to snap your hips into his until the hot knot in your belly snapped and you let out a groan as you filled the condom.

AM sighed out dreamily when he felt your warm release fill him through the plastic wrap around your cock.

you pulled out of AM’s used hole, tied up the condom and threw it away in the mini trash can in the bedroom, and just laid there for a few minutes to catch your breath as AM clung onto you.

AM whined when you pulled away from his clinginess to grab a towel you set on the floor before hand to wipe AM and yourself clean of cum.

thankfully the bedroom also had a mini fridge filled with mini bottles of water and snacks the boys enjoyed to eat. he chugged the water like he was bet to do it and ate the snacks in record breaking seconds. you have to teach him to not pig out.

you combed your fingers through AM’s hair like you knew he liked as he rested his head on your chest. he surprised you when he suddenly grabbed your free hand and gently traced his fingers over your palm.

“thank you… i enjoyed this a lot.”

you smile as you kissed his forehead.

“i’m glad i could make our first experience enjoyable. rest now. you did so well for me, my good boy.”

AM was too tired to not pretend you calling him that name wasn’t attractive. his eyes shut closed as he drifted off to sleep. he felt satisfied, content, and so so loved.

the next morning reader goes to work and leaves AM a note saying “blueberry pancakes :)”.

AM exits the bedroom towards the dining room where the nostalgic smell of pancakes filled his nose and made his mouth water.

RAM and CAM are conversing amongst themselves while munching on pancakes until AM rudely interrupts them by taking a pancake from CAM’s plate and eating it right in front of him.

CAM stares at him unimpressed as he scans him. memories of your time together obviously from the love marks you left on his neck and shoulder.

AM looks down at his “brothers” with a shit eating grin as he proudly says:

“HA! I fucked them before you did, virgins! HAHA—!”

“The noises you made last night didn’t sound like you were the one doing the fucking,” RAM snidely comments, CAM chuckles as he snatches another pancake from the stack you piled in the middle of the table.

AM bursts in red as he growls at an unfazed RAM and CAM before the two continue their conversation. He huffs before getting his own plate and preparing his own breakfast.

as he gets more comfortable around you and sex, he is obsessed with it. it’s all he thinks about now (besides his hyper fixation with bugs and horror movies). he’d want it once everyday, and jerks off twice a day.

unfortunately for him, his brothers want sex as well. so you made a schedule to have sex with the three of them separately twice a week and Saturday is a chill day. he begrudgingly agrees to the ridiculous schedule. he would rather die than to never make love to you again.

Enjoys: 69, doggy style, missionary, hair pulling, spanking, light choking, SCENTS, and oral (giving & receiving). Hates: bondage, eye covers, temperature play, and ruined orgasms.

all rights reserved © pastelclovds — this blog contains [n]sfw and dark content. minors, ageless & blank blogs dni. all fanfics belong to me. please do not copy, translate, repost, nor recommend on tiktok. anyone found doing so will be contacted immediately.

[just-some-random-blogger]

You'll Remember You Belong To Me

Loving and leaving Daemon were the two best things you ever did in your life. He disagrees with the latter, however, and is convinced you'll come back.

Mafia!Daemon Targaryen x Estranged!Reader | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, modern au, toxic!Daemon, mom!reader, exes trope, manipulation, typos, etc.

A/N: HI everyone. it's been so long since I've written anything ): I JUST CANT WRITE HUHUH but inspiration struck me so im running with it!! this is inspired by You'll Be Back from Hamilton so I suggest you give it a listen! Also it's kinda fucked up so read dis with care!!!!

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa

"Papa!" a hushed but excited voice calls.

Daemon grins and gets down on one knee. The little boy with burning white hair runs towards his papa's open arms and jumps into them.

Daemon embraces and kisses his son. He then throws him over his shoulder as he stands, making him giggle. The man asks as he head over to the open door, "where's mummy?"

"Cooking with Vivi."

"Oh," Daemon walks inside and takes his shoes off, "do you and Visenya help mummy cook?"

The boy cheers, way too loudly to his father's taste, "YES!"

Daemon immediately hushes the boy and sets him down. The boy is red in the face and giggling. Daemon gives him a lopsided smile and brushes his bangs out of his face, "remember what I told you, lovie? About keepin' a low profile."

The boy nods, "it's our secret mission," he raises a finger to his lips, "a surprise for mummy!"

Daemon chuckles, "very good, Baelon."

Baelon grins from ear to ear.

"Now, before we surprise mummy, tell me where you put the phone I gave you."

"I hid it underneath my toy box! Mummy never looks there."

Daemon pinches his son's cheeks, "good boy."

Baelon giggles under his breath.

"Remember not to let your mother catch you when I call again, okay?"

He nods.

"Right," Daemon stands, "you can go tell mummy daddy's home now."

With that, Baelon runs off and practically busts a lung screaming, "PAPA'S HERE!"

Daemon follows the child, and hears a high pitched squeal from the kitchen. Soon enough, his beloved Visenya is running towards him, "PAAAPPPAAAAAAAAAA!!!!"

Daemon scoops up the little girl in his arms and covers her face with kisses, "ah, my baby girl."

He twirls the girl around and after a 360, he is met with a deathly glare. Daemon smirks, "hello, baby girl."

"I am not your baby girl," you snap as you march towards him. You mutter under a groan, "and you're not supposed to be here."

Visenya tightens her arms around her father's neck. At a point, her blonde hair looks like it was Daemon's. He blows a raspberry onto her neck, his eyes on you the entire time, "my place is where my family is."

It takes everything in you not to explode, but you don't; you'd never do that in front of your kids.

Daemon knew that well.

That didn't stop you speaking your mind though, "this is from the man that uprooted our life in King's Landing because of a business plan gone wrong."

That makes Daemon tick. He puts down Visenya, much to her displeasure. The girl claws at Daemon's jeans, wanting to be in the arms of her father again but is ultimately ignored. "You knew what you were getting into when you married me."

"That's why I know better than to let the man I once loved conceal, lie, and cheat on me."

Your words really sink into him when you pick up Visenya when she burst into tears. Of course, she wanted nothing to do with you and so desperately clawed out to him, but the image was really sobering.

At least for a moment.

"Give her to me," Daemon says.

You glare at him and mouth threats laced with curse words.

Baelon runs up to him with a toy bus, "papa, can we play?"

Daemon looks down at his son and smiles. He crouches down, "of course, darling," he looks up at you, "we'll play with Vivi."

Visenya immediately wrangles out of your arms and you have no choice but to set her down.

As much as you wanted to grind his guts, you knew your children loved their dad. They so obviously missed him dearly.

Daemon sprawls belly-down on the floor without hesitation. Visenya and Baelon fall into their usual play mode and you take a deep breath before heading back to the kitchen to finish cooking.

By the time you were finished and calling for them and their joke-of-a-father to come to the table for lunch, you find yourself alone by the dining table waiting for seemingly nothing.

You were about to go get your kids, that is until Daemon walked over.

Your face immediately morphs into distaste. It makes Daemon chuckle, "that bad?"

"Where are my babies?"

"Our babies are napping," he says, pulling a chair back. He sits down and tilts his head, "I'm here though."

You make a disgusted face.

Daemon laughs. He missed your face very much.

You cross your arms, "what did you do to them?"

"You're accusing me of doing something to my children?" he chuckles in disbelief as places a hand on his chest.

"They never need to take naps."

Daemon shrugs, "you don't play with them hard enough."

He realizes his mistake when your face contorts.

"I didn't hurt them," he waves his hands, "I just made them chase each other around until they burned out."

"Good then," you point to the door, "leave."

He narrows his eyes in offence, "I promised I'd be here when they woke up."

You throw your head back in laughter, though you found no amusement in his words, "that wouldn't be the first time you lied."

"I've never lied to Baelon or Visenya."

"You think you deserve a consolation for that?" you snap, turning around to lean on the sink. You wash your hands even though you've just washed them, "I told you I would leave. I told you I would leave you if you kept up your bullshit."

Daemon stands and walks towards you.

You don't look back but you knew he was closing in. You didn't need to look; you could feel him. You knew exactly what he would do because you knew him like the back of your hand.

This was why before he could do anything, you turned away and flicked water into his face.

Daemon stills in his spot, taken off-guard.

You decide to finish cleaning up before you eat.

He wipes his face, "and I told you you'll be back."

You scoff as you tidy the counter, "am I the one crawling back?"

"Is that what you want?" Daemon raises a brow as he walks over.

You still in your spot when he drops to his knees.

"I'll crawl and beg," he whispers as if it was something solemn.

You watch him inch closer and before you have the brain to move, you let out a gasp when he grabs your thigh.

It didn't help that his palms were warm and your skin was cool from wearing shorts and damp from washing dishes. It didn't help that you hadn't been touched for so long and that your skin grew goosebumps.

It didn't help that he had it all figured out.

He kissed your thigh once and the next moment, he had you pressed against the counter, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, nearly lips to lips.

Daemon traps you between his arms, hands gripping the counter on both your sides.

You could smell him so clearly now. It did something to your stomach. Your hands wanted to instinctively reach out to him, but you thanked the gods you knew better than that.

"I'll atone for my sins whichever way you want," he murmurs, "just let me see my kids."

You press your hands on his chest, ready to pull him away, "I know better than to believe you."

Daemon waits for you to push him back. When you don't, he doesn't hide his smile. He grins and takes your hands, kissing them.

Your breath is pulled out of your lungs.

He shakes his head, "you don't have to believe me. You just have to watch me."

It wasn't right, but the feeling of his lips on your skin was too familiar to resist. Daemon kisses your hands, up to your wrists, up to your shoulders, then your lips were trapped between his teeth and you were pulling him in.

The only reason you stopped was because Visenya walked in on you, scratching her eye, asking if she could have help getting a plate of food.

You watch as Daemon smiles at her. You watch as your daughter giggles as her papa gives her a plate and kisses her cheek before telling her he's going to go wake her brother up.

You watch as he carries Baleon and sits him down next to him. You watch him dote on them and it nearly makes you forgive and forget all he's done.

Daemon knows better than to think you'd do anything of the sort.

And even though you sit across from him holding a look of spite, he gives smirks back and prepares you a plate.

[tomasweetheart]

TWENTY TWENTY VISION — m. atsumu x gn!reader

sypnosis: atsumu needs glasses, but why on earth would he make his & your life easier by wearing them?

warnings: i'm gonna beat the shit out of atsumu oh my GOD he irks me so bad, post-timeskip atsumu, eensy bit of angst if you squint super super hard, osamu mention, i can't write the miya accent™ for the life of me but i tried so sorry, petnames such as baby used, he calls the reader pretty

notes: inspired by the fact that i just recently got my new glass and haven't had a pair since i was 14 so seeing the world focused fucks with me a lil bit, ALSO, atsumu with glasses has been flooding my brain, osamu is farsighted cause i said so

"I'm not wearin' 'em."

"Atsumu, please, you need to wear them, you have astigmatism in both of your eyes! And you're nearsighted!"

Atsumu lets out a soft huff as he crosses his arms, as if he isn't the reason you've been having this argument essentially since you brought up him even getting his eyes checked.

It all started when Osamu had gotten new glasses, that's what Atsumu thinks anyways, that this is all stupid Samu's fault.

Osamu came over one afternoon for a harmless visit, with new glasses on. You had asked Osamu about them, and commented that you never knew he needed glasses to which he responded:

"Oh yeah, me and Tsumu both do, he just hasn't worn his since junior high."

You swear you've never seen Atsumu react so quickly, his head snapping to Osamu and immediately telling him to shut up through gritted teeth. The subject gets dropped instantly, but now you're giving Atsumu side-glances throughout the night until Osamu leaves.

After you two are settled into bed and Atsumu is almost asleep, until your voice rings out in the dark.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.

"...What are ya on about?" Atsumu asks, turning to face you with a soft expression.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask again, "Because you don't wear glasses like you're supposed to, so the world's all unfocused for you all the time, is that why?"

Atsumu's silence and stunned expression is all the answer you need.

"That's what I thought," you mumble before turning away from him, "your eye appointment is Saturday at four."

And that puts Atsumu where he is now, sitting at the island connected to the kitchen in your small apartment, staring down the thick black lenses as if he was trying to explode them with his mind.

"I said, I ain't wearin' 'em," he huffs again vehemently, looking at you with an unwilling expression, "and that's final. I don't need no stupid glasses, I can see just fine."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, palms resting against the island as you stand on the opposite side of it, "If you don't need your glasses, read the paper on our fridge. Without squinting."

Atsumu's face goes a little pale, his eyes widening slightly. He looks over your shoulder at the paper held onto the fridge with a stupid magnet in the shape of a volleyball.

"It, uh..." he trails off, trying to not squint as much as possible, "...it...it doesn't matter what it says! I'm still not wearin' those glasses! I don't need 'em!"

"Atsumu that paper is no more than four feet away from you, and you can't even tell me what the bolded title says," you responded in an almost pleading tone, "baby, you need your glasses, so I am begging you, please put them on."

Atsumu's face softens slightly at your pleading voice, before it turns unwilling again as he looks down at his arms and mumbles something you can't quite make out.

"What was that?" you ask.

"...They make me look dumb," he repeats a little louder, looking back up at you, "they make me look like an idiot, and since my eyes aren't used to being focused, I feel like a baby deer learnin' how to walk."

"Tsumu," you reply gently, your own expression softening, "if you didn't like the way glasses look, why didn't you ask for contacts?"

"Because they scare me," he rebuttals, "which I know is stupid because they're an easy solution to my problem, but they rip and get stuck and...I don't know, that just scares me."

You stare at him blankly before taking a deep breath, "Atsumu," you start, "I'm not...trying to make you look stupid, okay? I just know that you need them, and you know that too. It might be awkward at first, but won't it be worth it to see the world a little more clearer? So you won't have to squint to read traffic signs or drive through menus? And, glasses aren't a permanent solution, we can work our way up to contacts, but you need to wear these for now."

Atsumu looks down at the glasses again, letting out another unsure sigh as he picks the thick rims up, and places them on his face.

It's weird at first, everything is clearer. The titanium fridge, that stupid volleyball magnet and the paper it holds, and more importantly...

You.

The way your entire face shifts into focus leaves Atsumu speechless. He knows how pretty you are, he doesn't need glasses to see it, but god do they make it better.

You give Atsumu a weird look, "What?" you ask puzzled, "Can you see better?"

"Yeah," he responds with a small smile, "I can see real good, pretty."

[drvscarlett]

The Tortured Drivers' Department

— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged

Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece

Fortnight

— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)

The Tortured Poets Department 

— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 

— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)

Down Bad

— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)

So Long, London

— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)

But Daddy I Love Him

— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)

Fresh Out the Slammer

— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)

Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine) 

—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)

Guilty as Sin?

—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)

loml

— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart 

— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)

The Alchemy

—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)

Clara Bow

— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)

The Black Dog

— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader

imgonnagetyouback

— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)

The Albatross

— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)

How Did It End?

— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)

So High School

—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)

I Hate It Here

—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)

thanK you aIMee

— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)

I Look in People’s Windows

—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)

The Prophecy

—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)

Cassandra

—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)

Peter

— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)

The Bolter

— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)

Robin

— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)

The Manuscript

—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)