#keep my driver's name out of your fucking mouth
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littlelamy · 3 hours ago
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sports car
warnings: smut, mdni
lamy's notes: heavily inspired by sports car by tate mcrae! i know i said i'll post tomorrow but i just HAD to write something based on this song.
rafe cameron doesn’t ask, doesn’t even fucking hesitate when it comes to claiming what’s his. it’s in the way his gaze burns through you, stripping you bare under the flicker of shitty alleyway lights, his lips curling into that cocky smirk like he already knows how wet you are just from the way he looks at you.
in the alley? fuck, he lives for the filth. the sharp scent of damp concrete, the muffled bass from the club pounding in time with your heartbeat. he’d slam you against the wall without a care for the grime, his fingers already pulling your panties aside. “you’re such a dirty little thing, aren’t you? letting me take you out here where anyone could see?” his voice is a low growl against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as his fingers pump into you, wet and obscene. he’s rough, unrelenting, whispering filth in your ear as he makes you fall apart in the shadows.
in the back of his car? that’s practically his second home for this kind of shit. the windows fogged up, your moans echoing in the tight space as his hands roam every inch of you. his lips crash into yours, messy and desperate, his teeth catching your bottom lip just to hear you gasp. “you like being my little slut, huh? letting me fuck you like this, so fucking loud?” he’d shove the seat back, spreading your legs wide as his head dips between your thighs, his tongue working you over with a filthy precision that has you clawing at his shoulders. and when you cum, trembling and gasping his name, he’s grinning like the devil himself, proud and possessive. “you’re not done yet, baby. i’m not fucking done with you.”
then there’s the center of the room—the sheer audacity of him. some swanky event, his family’s fancy dinner, whatever. it doesn’t matter. he’d grab your wrist, dragging you away with a wicked gleam in his eye. “you think you can sit there, looking like that, and i’m just gonna behave?” he’d lay you down right there, the thrill of possibly being caught only making him harder. his hands are everywhere, tugging at your clothes, his mouth hot against your skin as he fucks you like he’s staking a claim. “let them hear,” he’d snarl, his hips slamming into yours. “let them fucking know who you belong to.”
with the windows rolled down? oh, he’s all over that. speeding down some dark, empty road, one hand gripping the wheel while the other slides up your thigh, fingers teasing under your skirt. “you’re such a needy little thing, can’t even wait till we stop.” and when you’re practically begging, he’d pull over, dragging you onto his lap in the driver’s seat. the car rocks with every thrust, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as you ride him, the cool night air rushing in through the open windows. “you feel so fucking good,” he groans, his lips bruising yours as he fucks up into you. “every inch of you is mine.”
on the corner of your bed, his hand wrapped around your throat, his voice a dark growl that sends shivers down your spine. “you’re mine. say it. fucking say it.” his other hand is between your legs, fingers working you open as he watches your face twist in pleasure.
on the beach, under the moonlight, he’d take you in the sand, the waves crashing around you as his body pins yours down. the salt air mingles with the sound of your cries, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he takes you hard and deep.
and when he’s feeling particularly unhinged? he’d sit back, watching with dark, hungry eyes as you touch yourself for him, his cock throbbing as he strokes himself in time with your movements. “you like putting on a show for me, baby? yeah, keep going. let me see how fucking bad you need it.”
he’s chaos, lust, and danger all wrapped up in one—and he’ll ruin you over and over until you’re begging for more.
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taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs
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lelithefirst · 2 years ago
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un giorno i giornalisti sportivi italiani capiranno che devono lasciare in pace gli atleti e che la narrativa del ragazzo solo e triste che sbaglia perché gli è venuto a mancare il padre, non solo non è divertente, ma ottiene come unico risultato quello di infangare le persone che, per fortuna, sanno cosa vuol dire fare giornalismo.
lucrare sul passato di qualcuno è disgustoso, sia quando lo si fa per esaltare, che quando ha lo scopo di demolire.
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comraderoscoes · 7 months ago
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dilf-docs · 18 days ago
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To The Devil I Know
bfd!joel miller x younger!reader
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summary: your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, it's pussy spanking time again bc i do in fact like it a lot, praise/daddy kink sprinkled somewhere, reader calls him mr. miller A LOT, exhibition kink (v nasty), degradation kink (he calls her little slut), pantie sniffing, dirty talk (they have a sentence awaiting in horny jail), y/n grinds on joel's nose bc yeah i too want that, this is contradicting but lwk sub!joel bc that man's touch starved as HELL, may do a part two idk pls give it love, dad!bod joel bc i say so (yummy), no angst (wtf dilf-docs? the angst gods are so pissed off rn)
word count: 7,195 words
side note: this request got me HOOKED the moment i opened it and since i'm currently on a pedro hyperfixiation rn, we need to put the mental illness to good use. also, this is lwk based on the song by suki waterhouse devil i know! :) i'm seeing that i have two joel fics with devil in the title btw something something abt nickels and not being a lot but weird it happened twice also WE HIT 300 FOLLOWERS??? (and its 1am and i have to wake up at 4am is anyone surprised atp...)
part: prev | masterlist | next
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"Sarah!" you shout, "get your ass out here you looser!"
It's probably eight in the morning, and here you are, honking and shouting in the middle of the quiet calm suburbs.
When you spot her curly head running towards you in a rush, you know she's pissed.
"Stop screaming!" she shouts back, "my neighbours will hate me"
You've known Sarah since you were kids. When you first moved to Texas, she was the only one who spoke to you in school. You grew up with her among white picket fences and scrapped knees, mantaining the friendship even as you moved away, until your return for college.
"Why would I even care? I don't live here!" you joke from the driver's seat, hopping off and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm just so excited for this trip, we've been planning it for ages!"
You keep talking excitedly about your plans, not noticing how her face falls.
"Yeah, about that..."
"You girls ready?" a third voice enters the picture, definitely not belonging to a girl.
"Uh, Sarah" you breath in, "Why the fuck is your dad here?"
In all his glory: Joel Miller, a guy you haven't seen in forever, too busy living in the dorms, girl dates with Sarah often out of her house. You wanted to explore the world: you weren't ten anymore, and the suburbs lost all of it's appeal they had when you were the age of Barbies and drawing on chalk.
"Listen, y/n. I tried, I really tried. But as soon as I opened my mouth, he started to pack his bags"
"Isn't your dad always busy at work?" you inquire, another one of the reasons Joel's face isn't a fresh memory in your head.
"That's part of the problem. He took all of the pending vacations he had at once" she sighs, sounding as dissapointed as you are. "I understand if you don't want to go"
"Are you being serious right now?" you chuckle dryly. "No, absolutely not. I saved for this trip, packed my favorite outfits and aced all my classes so my parents would allow me. Nothing is going to ruin this for me: not you, not your dad. So we'll go and we'll have all the fun we planned, yeah?" you express firmly, holding her hands. "We will have our girl summer, no matter what. Even if we have to ignore the elephant in the room..."
"Did you just call me fat?"
You turn around, and there he is: the uninvited. Joel Miller's aged face stands before you, strong arms flexing under the pressure of a couple of suitcases.
"No" you reply back, "just a nuissance"
He chuckles at your response, amused. "If you thought I'd let my babygirl go alone with you to the beach and get shit-faced drunk, you're not as smart as I remember, y/n"
Your name would always be on his tongue to call you out. Y/n, don't do that. Y/n apologize to the neighbours. Y/n, slow down. Y/n, don't be so stubborn. You were always a troublemaker, and his lips would only know how to pronounce your name if to berate you. But now, as his mouth says your name with a newly learned tone, dripping with dare and amusement, you can't help but feel a fire ignite that burns your skin.
"Dad!" Sarah calls out, taking you out of your thoughts. She flushes in embarrasment, and you scoff at the idea of giving too much of your time to think about Mr. Miller of all people. "I'm not ten anymore, we'll be just fine"
"You're barely of legal age!" he counters back. "What if somethin' was to happen to you, huh? I'd never forgive myself"
You get annoyed at his over-the-top reactions. What did he think you were gonna do? The wildest thing you had in mind was getting drunk while sitting in the sand. Not even in the water! You may be a wild spirit, but stupid you're not.
"Look, Mr. Miller" he cocks his head to the side, daringly so, almost as if waiting for you to try. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't Driveway Dolls" he looks at you confused, so you try again, "Or Thelma and Louise, whatever suits your fucking old ass. Alright? This is a girls trip, heard that? Just two bestfriends enjoying their youth and summer without boys around to ruin it for them"
"Boys?" he laughs. "Too bad, then, 'cause sweetheart, I'm a man"
Your breath hitches, but you're not going to let him win; you always need to have the last word.
"Well, man up and let your daughter be free for once!"
Sarah covers her face with her palms, clearly knowing her dad more. This is a lost battle.
"Stop, y/n. Please. Dad's impossible to bend"
"He's ruining our trip!" you protest, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.
"Take it or leave it" he leans against his truck, crossing his arms. Your eyes dart to the strained fabric of his sleeves, and when he chuckles, you don't know if he noticed or it's because of his imminent victory.
"Fine!" you throw your hands in the air, dramatically so. "Welcome on board, intruder"
Joel Miller smiles, and maybe it's the rare sight, not even common back in the day, that makes your heart skip a beat.
"And we're taking my truck"
"Are you being serious right now?!" Was this man going to take away all your freedom?
He laughs, mockingly. Rage bubbles in your chest, along something darker you aren't going to admit just yet.
"There is no way my daughter is going on a fucking hatchback to the beach"
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You try to distract yourself talking to Sarah in the backseat, but her dad's prying glances time to time from the rear view mirror have you shifting uncomfortably on your seat.
He's persistent, always has been. Joel Miller, just as Sarah said, wasn't a man who could be bent. You'd remember thinking he was a sort of superhero: unbreakable. Whenever Sarah needed help, a pair of strong arms would be there, ready to take the weight off of her shoulders. He was now older, as you have noticed: grey and wrinkles sprayed all over his face. And now, the worst part of it all:
Age had made him infuriatingly attractive.
Unfair, you think, that a man so bitter that only seemed to worry and nag, was blessed with the rare quality of aging like wine. You can deny it anymore: whatever Joel Miller has now that he didn't before is working on you like a lovesick spell.
You look again to the front, just in time to catch one of his subtle (not really) stares. You keep the eye contact, only he tears away his gaze first, something akin to regret and fear circling on his warm brown orbs. The fire from before cracks inside of your belly, and the anticipation begins.
If he was going to ruin your trip, you might as well return the favor.
"M' gonna stop for gas" he says after some minutes of silence, deviating towards a gas station.
You take the opportunity to get out of the truck to strech your legs. Sarah does so too, but then whispers into your ear:
"Tell my dad I need to go to the bathroom. Don't want him worrying"
As if you'll talk to him. Despite that, you nod and she leaves you alone with her annoying dad.
"Reckless too, huh?" Joel appears by your side, almost making you drop your phone. "You know you're not s'pposed to use the damn phone on a gas station? Good thing I ain't let my daughter go alone with you"
You put your phone down. "Reckless? I know what I'm doing" but you sound nervous, for some reason.
"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Joel says, his voice surprisingly soft.
You heart gets stuck in your throat at the sudden shift, "I suppose not"
"I get that you hate me" he confesses, done filling the tank, "but I couldn't let the two of you go alone"
Your cheeks turn pink at the accusation, "I don't hate you"
He laughs, and the sound has something stirring in the lower of your belly. Why is Joel Miller of all people provoking feelings in you no other boy has ever provoked? You're used to playing with boys as you please, and you come to realize that's where the difference lies: you don't know how to handle a man.
A man so strong, your eyes don't leave him as his arms flex while pumping the gas, the delicious peek his simple white shirt gives you not going unnoticed; droplets of sweat on his temple, sliding down his jawline then getting lost down the crook of his neck. You lick your lips on instinct, horrified when you realize what you've just thought and done.
"Damn right you don't"
You could say you've reached some kind of truce, but then Sarah comes back, and when you look at Joel again, he's reverted to that annoying apathic state of his, but instead of bothering you, it only makes you want more.
"Hey" he says to Sarah, "where you went?"
"I had to pee, dad. Relax" she dismisses, shooting at you a can-you-believe-it look.
He walks away, ready to jump in the driver's seat again, when he turns around to whisper to Sarah:
"Don't ever leave me again" tone stern, "not with her"
But you hear.
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You arrived late, the sun hiding behind the large body of water that seemed infinite.
"I can't believe we missed the first sunset!" you whine. "It was going to look so good on my Instagram stories..."
"This generation and their problems" Joel scoffs, taking the suitcases to the house you've rented for the next two days.
The answer is right at the tip of your tongue, but you decide to be the bigger person and remain quiet. If he wants to play, you better play smart.
"Dad, please" Sarah calls him out, and you have to hide a laugh. "Don't fight with y/n"
"I ain't doing shit" he sneers, crossing his bulking arms.
Sarah walks past him, muttering against his childishness. That angers Joel, who tries to remain cool.
"I know you hate me" you suddenly appear by his side. Your vainilla scent gets up on his nose, invading his body of you. "I just think you should try, for Sarah"
"I don't hate you" he answers, and now it's your turn to laugh.
"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Miller" it comes out before you can stop it, and there's something dark lurking behind his brown eyes piercing through you.
"I don't" sounding more sure this time. Serious too.
"You'll have to prove that"
You enjoy the surprise on his face and the light pink sprinkled across his cheeks.
"Prove that?"
You nod, finding all of this suddenly funny.
"Hmh, you heard me. Prove it, Mr. Miller. That you don't hate me"
But before he can respond, your bestfriend is back.
"Y/n, come on! You need to check the house. It has a shared balcony!" Sarah beams giddy.
You let her excitement infect you, taking her hand as you go inside the house. Joel stays back, your words ringing on his ears.
On the other hand, Sarah and you check the room together.
"Look this" she points at one of the mirrors in the room: it has details that remind you of the sea. "Isn't it cute?"
"It is" you agree, "we should take a picture"
"Okay. But use your phone" she says, "mine died on the road"
You're about to pull it out when you feel your pockets empty.
"It's... not here"
"You might have left it in the car" she tries to help.
"Yeah" you try to remain level-headed, "I'll go search for it"
You return to the truck, pressing your head against the window. Just like your friend guessed, it's there, abandoned on the seat.
"Lost somethin'?"
You gasp, turning around. Joel Miller's face is centimeters away from yours, breathing heavily as his body cages your smaller frame against the truck's doors.
"My phone" you find your voice after what feels like eternity, "it's inside the car"
"Need help with that?" his voice sounds low, whisper easily to be confused with a growl.
You don't know how to answer, scared for the first time of where your mouth could take you. So your solution is to nod, and step aside for him to open the car.
"There you go" he's dropping it in your hands, fingers lightly brushing yours. There's a shiver down your spine despite the cool weather, and you know damn well it's all his fault. He may feel it too, by the way he takes a step back, putting some distance.
"Need anything else?" but it feels like a slap to the face, as if he's challenging you to speak what you've been thinking but are too coward to do when he stands before you.
"No" you mentally slap yourself for how pathetic you sound, "this is all I needed, Mr. Miller. Thanks"
You look back one last time, despite it all. And there it is: that same look he gave you in the car.
"Anytime" but it falls deaf to your ears, as you basically ran away from him.
Him and his imposing presence, enough to make your legs tremble and your mind to stop working. Him and his smell, that brings you back to simpler times and reminds you of a a secret place in the woods, musk getting under your skin. Him and his breath, hitching when you touch hands. Him and his beating heart, just as loud as yours.
"Took you long" Sarah comments when you return, "I was already falling asleep"
She doesn't know or suspect, you tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from feeling sick.
That night, as Sarah lays by your side and you try to sleep, all you can think about is his big hands, the lingering feeling of a warm touch. And then Joel, stepping back―coming to his senses, as if something is holding him back.
Anytime.
You can't help but wonder what stopped him.
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Days have blurred between drinks by the poolside, waves crashing, wet sand in your fingers and sun carressing skin.
Despite what happened, Joel remains in the shadows, letting you and Sarah enjoy your trip in peace. You may be spending time with your bestfriend, but his presence hangs in the air, impregnated with his strong pine and whisky smell, looming over you like a shadow; suffocating, like his scent is all you can breath. You hate how your mind keeps going back to him, because despite your inicial claims to ruin him, that wasn't the purpose of this vacation, yet Joel seems to have infected you with a need that corners your mind to think of him and him only. The greed you feel is unnatural, like a spell has been cast upon you. He may be far, just as you wanted, and you should enjoy that, but it's that very same distance that is driving you insane.
Today, you and Sarah decided to go diving and then play volleyball.
The day ends, the sun sets, and so does the tiredness. But as Sarah's snores fill your ears, you toss around the bed, trying to conceal sleep to no avail.
Staring at the ceiling, you kept drifting back to Joel, mind wondering and heart racing at thoughts of strong arms caging you, warmth in your body that the breeze creeping through flowing curtains fails to provide.
The sound of wood creaking jolts you awake. His silhoutte is hard to miss, and your eyes follow it cross your bedroom. You pretend to be asleep, his scent up your nose as he walks in careful measured steps, trying not to wake you up. He looks back at Sarah, and the moonlight betrays him when it shines over his eyes, revealing an adoration that gnaws your chest.
He keeps walking, until he reaches the shared balcony. It's then that you make a choice, heart pounding in your chest as you race yourself from bed, going his way.
You go outside, finding him resting his arms on the balcony, facing the beach in silence. Soft waves crash against the wet sand, but not even that can overpower the sound of your beating heart.
"What're you doin' here?" he's asking, even if you haven't moved from your spot. Seems like your friend wasn't joking about his heightened senses, despite his old age. "Thought y'were 'sleep"
"Well, Sarah is a fast sleeper" you answer, walking to his side.
"She sure is" and the faintest of a smile appears on his face.
Joel Miller is a mystery to you: the most closed off man you've ever met, hiding behind his apparent apathy that only seems to be gone whenever Sarah is around. She's the apple of his eye, and those soft traces of a more tamed character that come to light have truly picked your interest, begging for more crumbs that will help you puzzle who he really is: he, that is as handsome as a mystery. The worst is, you don't know what attracts you more.
But you won't let him win.
"Mr. Miller?"
"Yeah?"
"Were you married?"
He looks at you, dark eyes partly iluminated by the moonlight.
"Aren't you a bit too young to be bold?"
"And aren't you too hot to be all alone?" you reply in an instant, rendering him speechless.
He chuckles, but it sounds defeated rather than amused.
"Trust me, kid" he's back at facing the ocean. Goddamn coward. "This isn't what you want"
"Don't call me kid" you berate, almost repulsed at it. "I'm twenty one"
He scoffs. "Still hella young"
"But I know what I want" a wavering hand ready to trace over his pecs, but he's stopped you before it descends. Before it's too late.
"You don't" he assures, grip on your hand stronger, without knowing how much you're enjoying this. Or maybe he does. "See? That's the problem with you kids: you think you do, but you don't"
You loose your patience.
"Tell me then, Mr. Miller. Would a kid do this?"
Taking the distraction, the same hand flies now to grop his dick, and to your surprise, it's already hard.
"Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they want"
"Stop" he warns, hissing when your eager fingers unbuckle his belt. It's huge, for some reason, and you can't help but feel an ardent throb at the thought of grinding on it.
When your eyes look at Joel, he swears he sees you devilishly smirk, almost as if you were mocking him.
"Stop?" you bite your lip, feigning innocence as doe eyes look where dark ones had done before. "If that's what you want, you aren't even trying"
You kneel down, and the position gives you the perfect side of his adam's apple bobbing in a nervous gulp. He grows insecure under your intense stare, breath hitching when the wind hits his now free member as you pull down his underwear, revealing it hard and leaking with precum. You laugh delighted, with victory, and he finds himself trapped between the moon and your games, drowning on a sea feet away.
"I think I know what you want"
"How? You don't even know what you want" barely fighting it.
Your fingers grace over his soft abdomen, tracing down his belly and happy trail. Your teeth nip at the skin scattered with soft rosy lines, peppering the skin with fluttering kisses to entertain your mouth until your digits touch his hard cock. Joel whines, squirming, and you're delighted with the receptiveness, needy sounds escaping his lips.
You haven't even started yet.
"You're right, I don't" you agree. "All I know is you piss me off and that you ruined our trip, so I'm gonna take my anger out on you one way... or another"
You take your first lick, savouring the dark red head. His hips buck, a shaky gasp robbed from his chapped lips.
"Fuck" he exhales weakly, lost against the sound of water.
"Don't worry, Mr. Miller. I'll take good care of you" admiring his girth. He looks down on you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Joel can't lie and say he isn't fascinated with the way you look at him, not believing so much appetite can fit in such a small young body. Not even his partners before you, had looked at him like he was the best thing in the world, and now here you were: the loud-mouthed brat best friend of his daughter, sucking his cock while Sarah slept just a few meters away. Just yersteday he was bickering with you, not standing your spoiled attituted and juvenile spirit that can't be tamed and won't shut up. Hell, you had even disrespected him. But here he is, not being able to find the words or actions to stop you: because he doesn't want to.
It was all so fucked up.
But then you're closing your lips around his swollen head, and he knows there's no point in fighting it anymore, his whole body urging him to give in.
"Oh, fuck" he pants, getting all worked up as you take him deeper. "Keep goin'. You're doin' a great job, sweetheart"
The praise gets to you, even if not needed.
Your tongue swirls, running the muscle with wet slides, up and down, tip to base, some pressure applied. You proceed to take in his balls, feeling him tense up. You wanted to mock him badly, but your mouth was full of his dick, so that wasn’t happening.
"D-don't stop" he pleads, sounding more like a whine.
He's deep enough that it hits your throat. You've never been this greedy, but also, have never tried with a dick so big. You feel him in the roof of your mouth, your lips at the base of the tip, brushing against skin. Joel can't keep up: breath hitching, moans ragged and consumed, barely standing if it wasn't for your hands digging in his thighs for support.
You keep building pace, seeing Joel's face scrunch up.
"M' close" his voice comes out strained, his head tilting back, wild soft locks from before now plastered against his forehead, dripping with sweat. His muscles tense, you can feel it, and it's just about time before he's coming inside your mouth.
You want it. To taste more of him, who you claim to hate but feels oh so good. Strong, just as his presence.
"So good, fuck, you're so good" in a tone so needy and desperate. It falls out of his lips, followed by more unintelligible praises dripping from his tongue.
And then, in a shaky breath, lost to the wind:
"Y/n"
You gasp, and he feels it, the air ticklish on his sensitive skin.
Joel said your name.
Your name, in a way it had never been said before. Uttered like a prayer, submerged in devotion. Your name, melting into his moans, deep within him, the calling full of a primal desire. The experience is intoxicating, making you crave more.
Joel comes with a groan, head falling back. Your name dies on his lips as his hips thrust up with your lips closing in. Thick spurts of cum mix with saliva in the back of your throat. You pull out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his dick. He looks down on you, body shaking as much as yours. Without breaking eye contact, he wipes some of the mess drooling from your lips, his calloused thumbs carresing you with a softness you didn't think was possible. The contrast makes you falter a bit, and you know Joel notices.
"There you go" your voice comes out hoarse, avoiding his eyes, "now you know what you want"
He chuckles, giving you a hand to stand up. As you raise to your feet, his face is barely inches away from yours. You can see the lines time has marked across his face, the grays coloring hair you remember to be brown, and those eyes―piercing through you like they know you better than you know yourself.
"But do you?"
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Joel Miller doesn't know what is regret.
He didn't feel it when Sarah arrived unexpectedly at the ripe age of twenty, forcing him out of college. He didn't feel it when Sarah's mother left him alone to raise his daughter all by himself, aware he had tried it all to make it work. He surely didn't feel it when you came back after leaving Texas, long gone the childlike wonder and features that made him see you as an extension of his daughter, his gaze lingering a bit too long on this familiar face in a beautiful blooming new body.
But this is different, and he isn't sure if, for the first time, he's finally known what is regret.
Joel Miller also doesn't know when to back out of a fight.
He remember his brother Tommy, practically begging to let go of some asshole that dared to pick up on him, knuckles bloody no matter if he was young then and old as stubborn now, the same red painted across his willfull hands.
But now those hands prickle and sweat, no matter how much he runs them over the fabric of his jeans. And now, as your dangerous stare pierces through him across the small table, Sarah oblivious to the game as she quietly munchs her cereal, Joel Miller backs down, his gaze the first to look away.
He realizes just now why he was so afraid to look up to the sky after you left. The same stars that stared back from the high of the dark night are akin to the ones dancing in your eyes.
"Mr. Miller" your voice breaks his train of thoughts.
"Where's Sarah?" he asks in a panicked voice, realizing you've been left alone.
"Brushing her teeth" you answer, slightly taken back by his tone. "We were going out today, remember?"
Ah, yes. A little tour to an island not to far away from there.
"M' not goin'. Sorry, kid" he's decided. Before you can speak, Sarah returns and asks the question herself.
"M' tired. That's all" but it sounds rather an excuse.
"Are you sure, dad?" Sarah presses, not sure why he had changed his mind at the last minute.
"Yeah" he insists, all while avoiding those eyes of yours, unsatisfied and searching for answers of questions qithout a voice. "You girls go and have fun"
So you do.
You go and feel like you're inside of Mamma Mia (your favorite movie; both of you learned ABBA's discography thanks to it, something that offended your parents), the sun reflecting in the water, the little island with its green and sun, and the flowers that dust their petals into the shore where your boat arrives.
But when the trip is over and soft waves rock your return, you think of Joel.
You think you should feel at least a little ashamed of becoming so obssesed with a man in barely two days, who, on top of it all, is your bestfriend's dad. But then you remember the taste of him inside your mouth, how his dick had rasped against your throat, his seed warm in the tip of your tongue. And then his eyes, promises meant to be broken locked away behind tides of fear, that do an excellent job of reminding you how easy is to drown; to fall for how in hazel flickers, Joel seems he'd give you the world.
"Let's get drunk" you deadpan once you're back at the shore.
Sarah laughs at your determination, then realizes you're serious.
"What?"
"Yeah, it's our last day here" you reason. "Besides, your dad isn't here. What's he going to say?"
If you sound between angry and dissapointed at his absence, Sarah remains quiet.
"We're running away" she tries one last time, but by the look in your eyes, you've made your choice.
"Are we? We're twenty-one, Sarah. We can do whatever the fuck we want" you feel rebellious all of a sudden, "what? Don't you wanna give this trip a grand finale?"
So you crash into the nearest bar and waste the night away, drinking and dancing. But you're ordering a drink you don't like, and in every glass of whiskey down your throat, his name hangs in the air like the memory of his smell, locked behind a vault as if it's too sacred to say. But when Sarah gets a boy to dance and lends his friend to you, you wish there was rough where soft meets your skin, and chapped when you kiss his lips. Your body burns ablaze with sweat, alcohol and regret, a dangerous combination that makes you pull Sarah out of the bar when you feel you're about to black out. She complains, but you're set on making it to the bed before your eyelids shut.
Maybe it's because you always had what you wanted, or maybe it was the forbidden, but whatever reason had pushed you in Joel's orbit, refused to let you go.
And maybe you're imagining his voice, scolding you like a kid. Maybe you're seven again, and in the shadows of the bed, you've gone back to your childhood days. Y/n, y/n, y/n. That sick berating tone of his, acting like you're stupid and small.
"Fucking brat" he spats, drops of his angry scowl landing on your cheek. You then realize he's hovering over you, and it's real, not a product of your foggy mind. So you stand up, sobering up a bit, when he charges back again. "Makin' my daughter pass out? What the fuck were you thinkin'? Could've ended in the middle of the street. You're s'pposed to go to the damn island and then come back!"
Your mouth tastes like sand, but even if you've passed out a couple hours ago, the fire doesn't die. So your tongue is back, finding it's voice to say:
"Well, if you hadn't left us alone, this wouldn't have happened"
He chuckles, darkly. Humorless. "I see"
"What?" you challenge, a shiver down your spine that looses itself somewhere else.
"You got my daughter drunk as revenge"
You're mortified at the accusation, the remnants of alcohol now long gone of your system.
"Do you think I'd risk me and my friends' safety for you? Out of all people, you?" not caring if you sound bitter.
The truth sticks to your skin as uncomfortably as the sweat.
"I dunno, sweetheart. That's why I'm asking you" the pet name rolls effortlessly, in a rough voice that creates a wet spot in your panties. He gets closer, and you can see the tremble of his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. "Be a good girl and answer"
"I won't tell you shit" you spit.
"You little minx, thinkin' you can run your tongue like it ain't been 'round my cock before" you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Joel's enjoying this more than he should. "That's right, what'd Sarah think knowing her friend's a little slut for'er daddy's cock?"
The electric current that crosses your body sparks the fire of the woods hiding behind his auburn storms.
Now you're feeling high on a forest fire. You want the flames to engulf you, even if ashes is all there'll be left.
"Tell me you want this" his forehead clashes against yours, and the whole world falls silent, except for your ringing ears.
"I want this" and he's just as surprised as you are by the unwavering conviction. "I need you, Mr. Miller"
You try to get up, but he pushes you with full force back into your bed. Then, the base creaks, and he's on top of you, his weight pressing you against the mattress.
"What are you-"
"You think I'd let you get away easily? Have things your way? Naive lil' girl" he tuts, "I'll punish you for that"
As on cue, drowned out snores are heard from your side.
"But, Sarah-" you try to protest, his body caging you under his mercy.
"That'll mean you're behavin', right?" he runs his thumb across your lips, gently pulling them down, as if the chase was thrilling as eating the prey. "I know you don't want to wake her up and see her slut of a friend bangin' her daddy"
You tense, remaining silent at the threat, even if your body reacts other ways.
"Good girl"
He’s quick to get rid you of your shorts.
"Fuckin' hell" he murmurs against your neck, the clothing discarded somewhere in the room. "Wearin' this little shitty bottoms to rail me up, knowin' damn well when to bent and get me hard. Been thinkin' of takin' them off ever since you wore 'em first"
The confession makes you whine, and Joel's delighted by the sound, and just how putty you are under his big rough hands.
"Let's see what we got here" his large hands caress your thighs as he settles between your legs. "Black lace, baby? Such a fuckin' tease. Wore 'em for me?"
You shake your head, but his calloused digits dig on the plush skin of your thighs, making you wince at the pain.
"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. You'd said you'll be a good girl, yeah?" you nod, soaking wet, painfully so.
"Yes, I'll be"
"Show me your manners, then" he presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, close to where you need his graying beard to tickle, "and I'll show you mine"
"Just eat me, Joel" you demand breathlessly. "Fuck. Need you, Mr. Miller, so bad"
"And why should I reward you, impatient little slut? Eager to get daddy's filthy mouth between that pretty pussy" Joel bites the inside of your thigh, and it takes all of your strength to avoid becoming a moaning mess. "You've been bad, sweetheart. A brat"
You deny it, but his head dissappears between your legs, licking the wet spot on your panties. You squirm under the teasing of his tongue, legs shutting close on instinct. You drown a whimper in your palm as he yanks your panties away.
"Don't do anything I ain't tell you to" demanding, and if you weren't this horny and out of your mind, you'd probably be scared. "There'll be consequences"
You try to obey. But then his nose, that big nose you want covered in your slick as you grind off of it between your legs, sniffs your panties. He gives it one big sniff, and then two, fingers going white as he holds the piece of fabric with too much force, shoving it on his face.
"Ye'r too fuckin' sweet, I'll give you that" he mumbles in a drunken haze. "Need to taste that drippin' cunt of yours 'night"
The bed creaks again, or maybe it's the sound of his bones starting to give in to old age, but Joel is sucking your clit, tongue pushed inside of your puffy folds. You hide a moan against his lips, hands traveling to grip his hair.
"Joel" you breathe out. 
He parts your folds easily, and before you know it, a rugged finger circles your entrance. Your back arches, and then he leaves place for his mouth again, flicking your sensitive core with his tongue. A moan a little too loud escapes your lips, making his eyes darken when the bed next to you shifts, Sarah tossing in her sleep.
"You dumb fuckin' brat. What'd I say?" his hand slams against your pussy, a sting you've never felt before, both showered in pain and pleasure, spreading across your cunt. "Don't disobey me. Apologize, now"
He stops his minstrations, and you're so achingly close to your orgasm, that the answer falls easy and rushed from your lips.
"Sorry, Mr. Miller"
"Good girl" Joel praises as he pushes his finger in, next to his tongue on your clit.
But the orgasm is so deliciously close, and you can't wait for more. So now you're grinding in his face by reflex, rubbing against his big nose just like you'd imagined. You whine at the sensation, and Joel rests his tongue flat on your clit with surprise.
"Who gave you permission to do that?" but his voice sounds more amused than nagging. "That imagination of yours is somethin' else. Have you been thinkin' bout it all this time, hmh, greedy dirty slut?"
The orgasm looms closer, hitting when Joel pushes a second rough finger in, walls clenching against his digits. He pulls away, licking his fingers with his tongue.
"Such a perfect pussy you got there, sweetheart. As sweet as you when you ain't bein' a pain in the ass"
You laugh breathless, trying to recover.
"Wanna taste?"
So now he's kissing you for the first time, his lips rough against plush skin, nibbling with your lower lips between his teeth, his tongue still tasting like you roaming free inside your mouth, like he wants to mark every corner; imprint himself in you. You've never wanted anything, hell, anyone more. The kiss leaves you hanging, heart racing at the closeness of his face and the warmhearted feeling of his lips on yours, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.
"There you go" he chuckles, enamoured at the sight of your puffy lips. "Now it's my turn"
He's quick to get rid of the jeans and belt (oh well, it'll be another day) until he's over you, just wearing his boxers.
You'd never seen Joel naked before, why would you? But there's a vague memory of hot summer days, trying to survive the heat in the town's pool, just as the rest. He was there, eye candy for the mothers and horny teens. You hadn't understand back then, when he was all muscle, but you do know, where the mighty strenght is still hidden there, somewhere between his sturdy arms and chest as soft as his belly, round as it pushes above the only piece of cloth that forbids you to see his dick. His chest is full of hair, and God, you feel so dirty wanting to bury your face in the sweat drenched patch.
"Stop lookin' at me like that" he teases, but there is a small voice of insecurity hiding its undertones beneath his smirk under your stare.
"You're so fucking hot, Joel" comes out before you can stop it, now mouth acting up on its own.
Fuck, he thinks, he's too far gone. There's no point of return.
Your eager fingers pull down the underwear, fingers grazing the softness of his length. You slowly grabs his dick as he comes closer, never seeing anything as big and provoking as it. That makes you tighten your grip on his dick, which stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin. 
He positions himself between your legs again.
"Let's put this big bad boy to use, huh?"
He grunts at your words, large hands finding your thighs for support, as he caresses up and down the skin littered with marks and kisses.
Joel pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck.
"Tell me if it hurts" all softness on his eyes, his forehead falling against yours, as if he hadn't been punishing you just minutes ago. Your heart races at the gesture, tender meeting the rough of his edges.
The real question isn't asked, but you're on the pill and you trust him. You just want to fill him inside of you, all of him.
"I will, Mr. Miller"
He slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, quickly muffled by his palm as he stays buried deep inside of you, givimg you time to adjust to his size. It burns, but you enjoy the way the pain feels. He slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your slick folds take him, and he grunts, supporting his aching body by the forehead against yours one more time.
"So tight, sweetheart. Ain't nobody ruinin' this pussy but me" his growl comes out possesive as Joel establishes a steady rhythm. You softly moan as he keeps moving, pounding into you, hitting a spot no one had before, making you see stars. It gets harder to stay quiet, but Joel caputres every little sound that comes out of you in a kiss, as if that way he could preserve them better and forever.
You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close as your walls clench around him, his thrusts harder yet slower as he keeps going, ramming into you.
"Look at you, coatin' my dick like a fuckin' meltin' ice cream" he gently pushes it again between your folds, rubbing his dick on your clit. "So fuckin' wet, for me"
His lips are slightly parted and his eyes looked all fogged up, lost in the fire, thrusts becoming sloppier as he too feels it coming.
"So fuckin' pretty" drips from his mouth, and there's the stars in your eyes and the light you insist he's always had, even if he'd prefere the darkness. "The prettiest girl in the world with the sweetest pussy, givin' it all to this ol' perverted fuck"
The words and his big dick inside of you makes your eyes flutter shut on instinct.
"Don't sleep on me, baby" he coos, a hand brushing damp hair from your face. You recognize the look: the same in the car, on the balcony and on the poarch of his house, after letting the years go by. Back then, you thought you had dreamed it, but now that the secret saccharine sweetness reveals herself as he slams into you, you know it was real.
This is real.
You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he pounds you so gently yet so rough, trying to show him without words that whatever this wrong and sick feeling was, you felt the same.
"Such'a good girl, takin' me so well" Joel grunts, slamming to the hilt. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna-"
His dick twitches inside of you, walls spasming around his cock as your pussy takes it all, milking him dry.
"Take it all, like the good girl you are"
Both of you pant, and it takes him a while to realize the sun is raising again until its rays hurt his eyesight.
He's about to tell you how this shouldn't be, how he, at such an old age shouldn't be pinning for his daughter's friend: so young, sweet and loud-mouthed. No matter if you felt the same, or if your body was marked in and out by him, No, because wanting isn't enough, and no tide could wash away his sins from the shore.
"Listen, y/n-" your name like he has never said it before: no scold, no malice nor lust. Just a softness he hadn't felt in years, asleep under thick layers of cold.
But your soft snores fill the silence between the beats of his heart.
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tags: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrosgrogu thank you sm for reading! hope u enjoy it :)
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reiderwriter · 1 year ago
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Week Four of my yearly playlist challenge!
Summary: When you fall asleep on the overnight drive between one case and the next, Spencer gets awfully distracted by your sleep talking.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Partial Spencer POV, dom!Spencer, brat!Reader, pain play (scratching, choking, spanking, etc), degradation (use of whore, slut), masturbation (m and f), orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, cockwarming.
A/N; Thank you to the Arctic Monkeys for fuelling my delusions and for gif makers everywhere for their services to horniness. This was the first playlist fic chosen from a recommended song, so if you enjoyed it, don't forget to send me more song recommendations for the playlist!~
Masterlist || Playlist
Spencer was never the most confident driver in the BAU, but between the two of you, he was the only one who possessed a licence. 
Which is how he found himself driving through the night with you asleep in his passenger seat, trying not to be distracted by the small whimpers and sighs dropping from your mouth. 
You'd been sent across state lines to investigate a recent homicide that may have been linked with your current case, and now that you'd deemed it relevant to your case, you were driving back to the rest of the team with all the documents you needed in tow. 
He'd been happy to drive when you left, with the sky black and the air cold, knowing that the country roads that would lead you just over the border would be practically empty. He'd even been content to let you sleep the majority of the journey, having noticed how little sleep you'd managed to get so far on this case. 
He'd been happy until your lips parted and you'd whispered his name in a moan. 
He'd thought you were awake at that moment and assumed you were about to ask where you were or what time it was. But you hadn't opened your eyes, and your breaths were still even and steady. 
You did it again five minutes later, and the gentle sound hit the hairs on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine that settled comfortably in his now tight pants. 
‘Shit,’ he thought, sparing a glance at you whilst keeping his hands comfortable at 10 and 2, his posture rigid as he willed other parts of his body to relax. 
Your legs had splayed open, your hand having fallen unconsciously between them for some kind of relief. He didn't let his thoughts linger where his eyes had fallen. 
He tried to convince himself that you were just dreaming about a case. Maybe he'd been shot in your dream, and you'd felt sad. Maybe your moans were ones of sorrow. 
“Spencer, fuck…”
Maybe he was going to hell for the thoughts flooding his brain because he wanted nothing more than to slide a hand into your pants and start giving you the relief you so blatantly begged for. 
He settled for turning into the next motel he saw advertised on the road. Hotch had told them, of course, that they could rest up for the night if needed, but he'd been too eager to get on the road while it was clear. But with his mind fogged with less than ideal thoughts, and your obviously aching body moaning beside him, a motel honestly couldn't hurt. 
You woke up slowly as he parked the car, the lack of motion wearily drawing you from your dream. He looked across at you and let out a sigh of relief to see you conscious. 
He'd been willing to carry you to whatever room you'd get, but he didn't know whether his hands would linger over your body. Wouldn't know if he'd be able to retract his hands at all if you reacted like that in your sleep. 
Now you were awake and looking at him, talking to him even, but all he could think about was whether you'd react better to his touch when awake. How could he get you to moan his name again, and how loud would you dare do it?
“Spence? Hello, are you listening?”
“What?” 
“Okay, I'm glad you pulled off the road if you're so tired you're not even hearing me speak,” you laughed a little, and the sound shot straight to his cock. 
Your voice was thick with sleep, and the phantom of his name hung on your lips, having been the last words to drop from your tongue. He usually had better control of himself. 
“Yeah, let's go get some sleep. You sounded pretty tired, too.” 
“Sounded?” You asked, and he watched your face warp in gentle confusion. He bit his tongue, trying to retract the statement, choosing the cold, biting winter air over the sight of you with a pout on your lips. 
His brain was addled with thoughts of those two plump cushions pouting around his cock as he held your hair back and- and yes, the cold air was definitely necessary. 
“You stretch your legs, I'll go organise the room,” you said, climbing out of your side of the car. He nodded along, not trusting his voice not to break like a prepubescent boy and turning his back to you, not trusting his eyes to linger awkwardly on your ass. 
It seemed like seconds, and then you were back leading him to the rooms you'd booked. 
When you unlocked only one door, with only one key, however, Spencer found all the progress of the last few minutes squashed immediately. 
“We're sharing?” He hung around the door, not sure whether to step inside or just resign himself to sleeping in the car. He made a mental note to grab some tissues before heading back out to the car if this conversation ended the way he thought it would. 
“Yeah, they only had one room cleaned and ready right now. It's fine, right? We've shared rooms on cases before.” 
You’d shared rooms on cases before, but never after he'd driven for nearly a half hour listening to you moan his name. He'd usually been too exhausted after full days of work and had regrettably fallen asleep first each time you'd been roommates. 
“Yeah, it's cool.” He cleared his throat, trying to make the octave jump his voice had just made it seem like a symptom of some kind of sickness he was coming down with. 
“Great, let me just go shower quickly, and then we can get into bed.” 
Warnings signals rang throughout his head, but he still sat patiently listening to the water running in the shitty motel bathroom. Grabbing his go bag, he readied himself for sleep, trying to ignore the fact that you were hot and wet and naked just a wall away and that he could hear everything. 
Every sigh you released, every trickle of water running across your skin. Every mumble of his name. 
Again, he thought he'd imagined it, but now he was sure you were torturing him. 
Your gasps of air were less innocent than they were four minutes ago, chest having faster and faster, and he thought it was clear that your hand covered your mouth to make you less audible. He didn't know what you were doing, but it didn't matter much to his cock, which had stiffened painfully once again. Unconsciously, his hand reached for it, needing to give himself some release. He'd already pulled off his slacks and put on his baggier sleep pants, which did nothing to hide his affliction. 
Instead, it was somehow more obvious, painfully so. And his hand was pawing at it through the thin material, chasing that high that you yourself were likely close to in the bathroom. 
It was only when the shower shut off once more that he realised how fogged his brain had been. His cock throbbed in his hand, and it certainly wasn't going down anytime soon, and you'd be out of the bathroom in minutes if not seconds. 
With no other choice, he dived under the bed sheets and pulled them up across his chest, too, and began to pretend to sleep. 
When the light spilt from the bathroom, he screwed his eyes shut tighter, even as his brain willed him to sneak a look at you. 
But he held firm, telling himself that he just needed to wait for you to fall asleep and then he'd relieve himself. 
At least those were his plans until he felt the dip in the bed, the movement of his sheets, and the warmth spreading across the bed from you to him. 
You'd climbed into bed right next to him. Your ass was mere centimetres away from his crotch, and he shuddered in pleasure. Shuddered. 
He tried to keep his breathing still, even, and he really thought after a few minutes that you too had fallen asleep. It was all but impossible as your body cuddled in closer to his and he found your ass pressed comfortably against his straining cock. 
“Y/N, you need to move,” he warned, breath shooting out of him as he resisted digging his hands into your breasts and holding you tight so you couldn't move. 
“I don't want to,” you replied sleepily, either not noticing the danger you were in or not caring. 
His hands rested on your hips, trying to press you just slightly away so his own hips could scoot back, but you clung to his heat. 
“It's cold in here, Spencer, and you're like a furnace right now.” With those pouty words, you turned your body around and wrapped your hips up and around his body. He scooted back as you did, though, just an inch too far, and instead of landing softly against his chest, the two of you landed in a tangled mess on the floor. 
“Spencer,” you moaned again, this time in shock, as you perhaps finally felt his aching length poking the inside of your thigh. 
He'd dampened your fall on the way down, clasping you to him as he flailed in the air for a few seconds, bringing his downfall on faster with your ass cupped in his palms. 
“Fuck, Spencer, you're so hard.” His dick twitched at the sound of your tired voice pressed against his ear. 
You pulled away slowly, head peeking down between you, trying to catch a glimpse of his still hardening cock between the two of you. 
“Don't look, it'll get harder,” he grunted, grasping your hips harder and trying to catch your attention again. But that just had you grinding down into his hips again, and your mouth widened in that perfect ‘o’ as you felt the desperation and need drip from him. 
“Spencer,” you said, hips reacting slowly at first as they kept up the small movements of pressing down on him and lifting your hips slightly to do so again. 
You were grinding your cunt into his hard cock, pinning him to the ground and using his body to get yourself off. 
It was the most deliriously arousing thing he'd ever born witness to. 
“Y/N, stop it before you regret it.” His tone was a warning, but his words came out at barely a whisper. You didn't even bother with a reply. 
“Y/N, please I mean it-” 
“Spencer, fuck-” you moaned for the last time before he pushed you to the ground and pressed his lips against yours. 
He'd hit his limit, and now he was going to reach his reward. 
He ran his hands up to the waistband of your sleep shorts and quickly tugged them down, lips not leaving yours as he forced his tongue into your mouth. Your moans were throaty now, and they were loud, your brain so delirious with just you'd completely bypassed any shy feelings. 
After making quick work of your pants, he grabbed your hand in his and moved it over his throbbing cock, showing you what it was you needed from him. 
“Stroke it.” 
You did. Sliding a hand into his pants, you gripped him firmly in your hand and gently ran your fingers up and down his tip, more teasing than anything solid. 
Spencer didn't complain, though, knowing he wouldn't last that long if you took your job as seriously as he was about to take his. 
“Spread your legs. Now.” 
You weren't sure what it was about his tone, but you complied easily. His fingers reached out, and he almost sent up a prayer as his fingers came into contact with your wet, heat. You were so aroused. 
“Did you dream about me? Earlier in the car?” He questioned, two fingers slipping easily inside your pussy as his thumb traced your clit.
“Y-Yes.” 
“Did you think about me in the shower?” 
“Spencer, I can expl-” 
“Answer me. Please.” 
“Yes.” 
“You were touching yourself thinking about me, knowing I could hear just how much of a slut you were through these walls. You wanted this, Y/N.” 
He increased his pace as your eyes clouded over, your already sleepy countenance looking decidedly more ready for release and rest. 
But he wasn't in a giving mood. 
“What an impolite little whore,” he whispered in your ear, withdrawing his hands completely and picking himself up from the floor. 
Your eyes shot open in confusion and pain as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. You watched his movements, saw him pull his still erect cock from his pants and begin stroking himself, and quickly organised your limps into a kneeling position by his feet. 
He watched you closely as you let your head fall onto his thigh, your eyes following each pump of his hand up and down, and up and down. 
“Spencer, please fuck me,” you pleaded with him, trying to resist the temptation to wrap your legs around his and hump his leg like a real bitch in heat. Though he'd probably greatly enjoy the view. 
“Why should I?” 
“Because if you don't, I'm going to sit here and finger myself until I pass out from exhaustion. And then I'm going to request a room with you on every other case this year and do it all over again.” 
“You're manipulative, you know that?” 
“I just know what I want, Spencer.” 
“Then come and take it.” 
Though he told you to come to him, it was his hand on your neck that guided you to your place in his lap. 
It was his hand on his cock that lined himself up with your cunt. It was his hips that snapped up into yours as he finally took you. 
But it was your lips that screamed his name as he fucked you roughly. 
Each thrust was most intense than the last, deeper, harder, faster.
You clawed at his hair, you bit his bottom lip when your mouths Mey again. You clawed your nails across his shoulders and back. 
He pressed you back into the mattress, and you wrapped your legs around him one more time, urging him to stay right there for the rest of the night. 
His hands found your breasts, and he grabbed them again, roughly.
It was finally too much, and, as he pinched down on your nipple hard to see that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain one more time, you came around his cock, heat spreading out of you in waves as your thighs twitched under the weight of sheathing him. 
“I'm going to cum, Y/N, I'm going to cum,” he dragged his teeth across your neck, whispering the words like a prayer. 
You couldn't reply, mouth so heavy with lust your tongue couldn't move if his wasn't forcing it. 
“I'm going to cum inside you,” he whispered again, his voice a growl of pleasure as your eyes shot open again. 
All you could do was moan his name as he painted your cunt white, pressing his entire weight down on you without a care in the world. 
You remained locked in that embrace for a long moment, your body tired and brain similarly diminished. Trusting him to take care of things, you let your eyes droop closed and let sleep consume you. 
Your last thought was on his weight still pressed into yours, and the fact that he was still yet to pull out of you and spill his well-placed seed.
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menagerofmischief · 2 months ago
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M4X
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summary: after max wins his 4th title in vegas, you congratulate him in a special way in his driver's room
tags: pwp, kinda sub!max, semi public sex, blowjob, deep throating, I went a bit wild on use of "champion"
wc: 1.4k
a/n: do I have an exam tomorrow? yes! am I in the middle of writing a lando fic? also yes! but ever since the race ended I keep thinking about this so I had to write it.
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You waited patiently, bounding on the balls of your feet as you gathered outside the RedBull garage alongside the employees, feeling like both your nerves and excitement were choking you up.
Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling when Max pulled the car up in front of the “champion” banner, tears brimming up in the corners of your eyes as you watched him get out of the car.
A quick pose for the picture and then he was pulling off his helmet and balaclava, eyes searching across the many faces in the crowd until they finally met yours. And then he was running, a smile on his face as he reached you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up to spin you around in joy, both of you laughing through choked sobs.
“You did it!” You said, your voice cracking. Max put you down, your feet now flat against the ground and you looked up at him, looping your arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you.
It was a desperate, passionate, raw and purely primal kind of kiss. The kind Max rarely allowed himself in public, but this was a special occasion. Open mouthed, his tongue stroking against your own, licking into your mouth desperately.
Finally the two of you pulled away, the loud cheers coming from the workers of RedBull filling your ears as everyone celebrated the win.
You part your lips, a breath coming out as your eyes meet with his and your lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Congratulations, champion.” You say, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Go celebrate!”
Max nodded, leaning in for another kiss, shorter this time, and then going down to greet the rest of the team and celebrate with them before heading to the cool down car.
Once all the formal celebrations and interviews were down, and everyone gave their congratulations, Max went to search for you.
A brief talk with one of the mechanics let him know you were waiting for him in his driver's room and he wasted no time in making his way over there.
He twisted the door, stepping into the room and his eyes immediately scanning the small space until they landed on you, sitting on top of his massage table with legs dangling down, wearing one of by now very spottable shirts in the RedBull garage, with his name. M4X.
"Do you like the shirt?" You ask with a laugh, pushing your chest out a bit to show him the logo.
He hums, making his way across the room and to you, one of his hands grabbing your chin and lifting up your head to kiss you. "Love it," he replies, lips brushing against your own with each word he speaks.
You place your hands against his chest, pushing him back a bit, enough to give you space to jump down from the massage table. You circle around him, running your fingers along his shoulders and back.
“You looked so good today,” you purr in his ear, fingers grasping onto the zipper of his racing suit as you slowly start pulling it down. “A 4 time world champion. My world champion.”
Max groans at the words coming from your mouth and you take the moment to lean forward and press open mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck, licking against the spots you know are the most sensitive for him.
“Fuck, schatje.” He says, his voice coming out more as a broken whisper than what he intended.
You move your hands and start pushing down his race suit until it pools around his ankles and with just a second of effort he steps out of it, looking at you with wide eyes and pouty lips, almost as if begging for anything you want to give him, as long as it’s something.
“Go on and sit,” you tell him, gesturing towards one of the chairs in the room. For a second he’s completely still and you think maybe he hasn’t heard you but then he bolts towards the chair, practically tripping over his own two feet as he moves to sit down.
You pull down your pants and step out of them, the slightly colder Vegas air making goosebumps raise across the skin of your legs. You leave the shirt on, a pair of navy blue panties barely peeking out. 
Max takes in a deep breath as you sink down onto your knees in front of him. “Wait!” He says, and you still instantly, you’re about to ask what’s wrong when he gets up to grab his discarded racing suit and pulls you up just enough to slip the fabric under your knees before moving back into the chair. 
“Thank you, baby.” You smile at him, leaning forward and pressing kisses along the skin of his thigh, the muscles flexing due to him tensing up from your actions. “Now, I think my champion deserves a reward, isn’t that right?”
“Yes!” Max says, his voice overly excited but you can’t blame him. “Please.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want.” You say, palming him over his boxers before sinking your fingers under the waistband. He lifts his hips in an effort to help you pull his boxers down and once you have them off you waste no time wrapping your hands around his already hard cock.
You slide your fingers over the slit, collecting the bits of precum that has already started leaking and using it as lube as you twist your hands down his dick. Max hisses, feeling pleasure overwhelm his senses as you lean forward, pressing a kiss onto the tip of his cock before opening your mouth and gently sucking on it.
Max’s moans are nearly pornographic, his cheeks flushed and lips open as moans and pleas slip past. You push your head further down, gliding your tongue along his length and pressing it just a bit against the vein running along the underside of his cock.
“You feel so good, schatje.” He says, his voice cracking. His hand cups the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair as he pulls it into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face.
He pushed your head down, not too rough, forcing you to take him deeper into your mouth until the tip is hitting the back of your throat and your nose is rubbing against his neatly trimmed base.
You hollow your cheeks around him, giving him a long suck before pulling your hair halfway up and then dropping it down again, gagging a little from the pressure at the back of your throat. 
It doesn’t take long for you to feel Max’s thighs tensing and slightly shaking as he approaches the edge of his orgasm, the grip of his fingers in your hair tightening. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He moans out, hips lifting off the chair as he thrusts his dick into your mouth, chasing the warmth around his dick. “So good, schatje, so good." Gonna make me cum.”
Encouraged by his words you speed up your movements, bobbing your head along his dick faster until you feel him twitch inside of you, and then filling your mouth with his hot cum. You pull off his slowly softening cock, letting it slip past your lips, and swallow.
You smile at him as you eye the mess on his cock and then teasingly lean back down to lick him clean. “You did so good baby,” you tell him, pressing your lips against his briefly as you go to stand up.
Max stands up, one of his knees buckling slightly, he leans down and grabs his boxers and pulls them up. “I didn’t get the podium today but this was so much better.” He says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
You laugh in response, pressing your lips against the palm of his hand. “Come on, champ, get dressed.” You say, the tone of your voice teasing. “We’re hitting the clubs tonight.”
“Or maybe I’ll be hitting your cervix tonight.”
A laugh slips past your lips, your tongue darting out to lick them. “Maybe after a few drinks and some dancing.”
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auragasmics · 7 months ago
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HE LOVES IT WHEN I...
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∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ synopsis! sugar daddies just love their sugar babies. but for you, these rich dilfs have a soft spot for your antics!
∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ pairings! sugar daddy iwaizumi hajime, kuroo testsurou, oikawa toru x fem!reader
∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ cw! 1.3k, drabble + headcannon format, age gap (hq men are early 40's, reader is late 20s), fingering, cl♡ t slapping, dom!iwa is a little mean, spoiled!reader, daddy kink (sry not sry, let's grow up ://) phone sex/video call sex, vouyerism, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, pillow-tribbing
∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ xoxo, chris! love hq men...love and cherish them!
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Sugar Daddy!Iwaizumi loves it when you throw tantrums!
He finds it all the most alluring, fueling the dominance within his veins. Whether it’s Every bit of attitude, pout, and sass you give him, he absorbs it, keeping careful count of each occurrence. 
Unbeknownst to you, Iwaizumi finds such joy in your little tantrums, especially right now. He knows how you’ve been crushing on some new bag, he still remembers your presentation of the newly released collection you swiped through a few nights before. To keep his precious girl happy, he’s taken the day off just to court you himself. 
But all that comes crashing down when the heel of your pearly white stilettos threatens to pierce through the glossy white floor of the boutique when he denies you of that purse you claim to need —oh so— much. He chuckles intently, guiding his pouty princess back out to the car with the driver waiting patiently. 
He gives you a few minutes to calm down, soothing you with soft pecks along the crook of your neck. He knows exactly what gets your legs spreading and those curvy hips bucking in the air. 
His girthy digits drift down to your panties, ripping the gossamer material to the side. Iwaizumi toys with your clit for a while, sighing at how easily the tender bud slips against his calloused pads. It’s satisfying to both of you, giving birth to the arousal brewing at the pit of your belly. 
“You must hate me, I know, I know. But y’re makin’ such a mess you’re making on my fingers, baby. So fucking cute,” he grins, teasing the slit of your cunt with pulsing fingers. Just when you prepare yourself mentally for the delicious stretch, an abrupt jab of pain distracts you—the fresh sting of Iwaizumi’s thick fingers crashing against your clit. 
“Hajime, wait!” His name comes flying from your gaping mouth. Your eyes peer down at Iwaizumi’s hand reeling back to land another slap. But there’s a certain detail that makes this little session of punishment even worse.
What makes it worse is how Iwaizumi’s display of dominance turns you on and the proof decorates his calloused hand. It’s disgusting how the flat of his palm glimmers in your slick—almost like the gems from the handbag you wanted so badly. 
Before you could even think, Iwaizumi laid his lips along your ear, his warm breath nipping at the flustered shell. He had a message for you and he thinks that this time, you’ll get it loud and clear.
“Don’t you ever embarrass me in public like that again, or else I’ll fuck the reminder into that thick skull of yours.”
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Sugar Daddy!Kuroo loves it when you call his name!
He swears it fills his stomach with those innocent butterflies, hearing his bubbly muse coo his name. It’s a cute purr, flows right off your tongue, and ends in a smile that could make Kuroo empty out his bank account right at that moment. He likes to play dumb sometimes, claiming his hearing fades in and out from time to time. Yet, Kuroo always stands tall and giddy with perked ears, waiting for you to repeat yourself.
Kuroo especially loves when you call out to him in grace for his services, ranging in a multitude of forms. His favorite one, of course, is when your orgasm hinges at the tips of your freshly manicured toes, the nerves prickling at the surface of your supple skin.
With his cock buried so deep inside your—his—cunt, it drags along your walls with such intensity. But Kuroo doesn’t dare to increase the pace, his hips lagging behind a languid drive. Not as it matters, even without using a pummeling force, Kuroo still manages to have your body on edge. 
“Aww, what’s wrong, Angelface? Use your words, what do you want from me?” He’ll tease, using those thick fingers of his to squeeze your cheeks together, forcing out a wet pucker from your drooling lips. It’s all just overwhelming, the heat of the room, his hunkering frame shadowing above your own. 
Your hands claw at his forearm, proving his resolve to be stronger than your own. It wasn’t your fault, it was Kuroo’s stubborn ego, acting as the driving effort to see that his needs are met. Kuroo lays a trail of pecks up to your neck, lingering along your jawline and ending at your cheek, each one dressed with apathy.
His words are just teasing, the only solace being his hitching pants warming the shell of your ear as he spoke smugly. 
“Say it with me now, Te-tsu-rou…c’mon Baby, say it for Daddy. Tell me just how you wanna cum all over my cock.”
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Sugar Daddy! Oikawa loves it when you send him pictures!
It’s a boost of confidence, sending the man photos whenever you decide to frilly yourself up for the day. Even if it’s just running to the store, Oikawa wants it all. 
He loves to have a collection of his precious baby looking her best, making up for all the times he couldn’t join you. Whether he’s away for work or tucked up inside a stuffy hotel room, he’s swiping through his file of photos reserved just for you and that gorgeous smile. Yet when it’s the ungodly hours of the night, he’s upping his game from pictures to full-blown videos, even video calls to please his fancy. 
Each one of these calls consists of you dollied up and dressed in his favorite set of lingerie. And with what he likes, it barely leaves anything to his imagination. To have those sheer panties hanging around your waist, just for the inner seam to leave you crotchless. What's better than getting straight to the chase? 
That’s what he likes and that’s what has your phone propped against the headboard, giving his heavy tourmaline hues the scene of you desperately rutting into his pillow on the bed. The satin pillowcase dragged along your clit, taunting the sensitive bud with its smooth material. 
Your inner thighs scrape along the plush fabric, your hips rocking into the cotton. Keeping a constant pace is key to your impending high, the soft moans flowing from your mouth like a crystal clear stream of the purest water. Oikawa had his sights pinned on you, watching your desperate search for a climax unfold before him. 
“Feels good, right Princess?” He’ll ask with a heavy chest, Oikawa wincing at how rough the palm of his hand was. It was nothing like your touch, the plush skin of your digits that would struggle to hold his length.
He was struck by an off sense of nostalgia, memories of his salacious youth being re-lived with each uncaring stroke of his fist. Just to even come close to your touch, Oikawa removed bits of his barreling strength, the pad of his thumb swiping at the blushing head of his dribbling cock. He bit his lip greedily, his ears piqued for your reply. 
You hum in response, clutching the puffy mass in your fist. It did feel nice, working yourself into an orgasm underneath Oikawa’s watchful eye. Knowing that he’s on the other side, stroking that fat cock of his with his rough hands, and wishing he had your sputtering pussy instead is all the motivation you need.
“I-I’m so close, wanna cum with you, ‘Ru,” you mew out, increasing your mere nudges to erratic bucks of desire. Oikawa could only growl in return, the frustration of his inadequate touch pitting him against time. Tossing his head back, the apple of his throat bobs at his staggering pace. At the final moments of his stability, Oikawa groaned out his final request of the night, something you couldn’t attempt to defy.
“Cum for me, Pretty. You better make a fucking mess for me to come back to, got it?”
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∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ xoxo, chris! a repost from my old blog, but i hope you still enjoyed!
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lqvesoph · 1 year ago
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Hot Wings - LN4
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landonorris x fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend does the hot wing challenge for quadrant and you make a little cameo for the first time ever
warnings: none, just fluff
masterlist | taglist
"Baby, you've got no right to laugh, you're not going this", your boyfriend Lando called, he would've laughed if his mouth wasn't burning at the moment.
He was currently filming a YouTube video for Quadrant and Max and him were eating hot wings while Niran asked them questions.
At the moment they were at the 7th wing, at level 300,000.
Max and Niran looked over at you behind the camera when Lando called your name.
Your boyfriend waved you over, signaling you to come to him. You hesitantly stood up, as you haven’t really confirmed your relationship yet, and walked to him and his best friend.
"My lips are burning", he mumbled, leaning back against your stomach, his head tilted back so he could hold eye contact.
You let your finger trail over his cheek, placing them onto his full red lips.
Lando leaned further into you. "Ohh, your fingers are cold, baby. I've never loved your fingers more than in this moment", the driver muttered, wrapping his arms around your middle, to keep you in place.
Max and Niran broke out in hysterical laughters as soon as Lando stopped speaking and even you couldn’t help a grin forming on your face.
"If you say so", you muttered, pushing your fingers into his curls, wrapping them around your fingers.
"Stay", he demanded.
"You're full of milk", you complained, stroking over the wet patches on Lando's black shirt.
"Yeah, I'm sorry, baby", he cooed, not really paying attention, which made you chuckle.
"You wanna take a bite as well?", Max suggested, holding up a hot wing with some sauce on it.
His best friend addressing you, made Lando lift his cheek from your stomach and look up at you.
In the meantime, you nodded, taking the chicken wing from Max's hands and taking a bite.
You didn't want to admit it but Lando's reaction wasn't unreasonable. The sauce was fucking spicy. But you tried to not let it show too much.
"It's spicy, that's for sure", you managed to say, taking a sip of the cold milk next to Lando.
"Well, at least you didn't spit everywhere like Lando", Max chuckled, slapping his best friend's back.
"She never-", Lando started with a grin, looking up at you, but before he could say anything else, you put your hand over his mouth, stopping him from telling a stupid sexual joke.
"You didn't eat the earlier ones", Lando complained, his voice muffled due to your fingers on his lips.
You listened to Lando answering Niran's question, with your boyfriend's arm still wrapped around your legs.
"Your lips alright again, mate?", Max asked teasingly.
"Mmh-mmh", Lando asked, looking up with his head thrown back. You could read his face telling you he wanted a kiss. You shook your head but still leaned down to peck his cheek, not feeling quite comfortable to properly kiss him with a camera recording you and in a video that will be posted on social media soon, before walking back to your chair behind the camera.
"You okay over there?" Max asked, after a few more hot wings when he noticed you pacing up and down behind the camera.
"My lips are burning", you replied. The boys laughed. "No, really it's actually painful", you called back, chuckling.
"You want ice cream", Lando offered, holding up the vanilla ice cream box. You agreed and walked over, the spoon already ready in Lando's hands.
You opened your mouth, letting Lando feed you. "You know Lando's salvia is all over that, he drooled on it", Max pointed out, looking at the spoon in Lando's hand.
"My salvia has been different places already", Lando quickly replied, not even taking his gaze of you.
"LANDO!", you yelled, realizing what he just said and threw the empty milk can that stood on the table at him.
Lando dodged the can successfully. "What? It's true", Lando laughed, smearing ice cream on your cheek.
Then he pulled a third chair closer for you to sit on.
"If there's anything you would change in Formula 1, what would you do?", Niran went on with the questions. "I'd make them do this. On the grid. During the national lanthem- lanthem", Lando replied, struggling to pronounce the words coming out of his mouth.
Max and you started laughing. "It's alright, baby", you laughed, making Lando look up at you. "You have the exact same look on your face as if you just came from a night club, completely shitfaced", you told him with a chuckle.
"I- I do talk li- la", Lando slurred, only confirming his words by the way he said them. You laughed and buried your fingers in his curls when he laid his head on the table.
"I need something to eat, something that's not spicy", he whined and sat back in his chair. "You want noodles?", you asked, grinning at the state your boyfriend was in.
Lando looked up and nodded, looking like a little kid. You smiled and ruffled his curls before standing up and walking to the kitchen upstairs.
Only a few minutes later Lando and Max came up from the filming room. Your boyfriend came up behind you and wrapped his arm around your body, his head resting on your shoulder.
"I’m almost done", you told Lando, who nodded and sat down next to Max on at the kitchen counter.
You took two plates from the cupboard and placed them in front of the two boys before putting the noodles along with the sauce on the table.
Lando pulled you closer like he had earlier while filming as well and put his head against your stomach.
Ria entered the kitchen and chuckled at the scene in front of her. Both boys looking like they just went through the most traumatic experience of their lives, with milk dripping down their shirts. "What happened to you two?", she laughed.
"Now you wait till you do that video", Lando called, grabbing his burning throat after, making you and Ria chuckle.
Comments:
fan: Y/N CAMEO??? IN A QUADRANT VIDEO
fan: She gets along with Max so well, I love it
fan: Ria is probably so happy she doesn't need to deal with the guys on her own anymore
fan: I don't think we need an official statement about their relationship anymore
> fan: Yeah, I think that's confirmation enough...
> fan: "My salvia has been different places already"
> fan: Charlotte would sue him for that
> fan: PAHAHAH SHE DEFINITELY WOULD
fan: Her voice is so calming, I could listen to her talk all day
> fan: Her accent is so adorable
fan: Y/n immediately burying her hands in Lando's curls is the cutest thing I've seen all day
> fan: Can we blame her? His curls do look amazingly touchable
fan: Now after this, I wanna see drunk Lando
fan: I wanna see more of boyfriend Lando, he’s the cutest
taglist
@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @bingewatche
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f1fantasys · 5 months ago
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BROKE
Warnings - explicit smut, minors dni, male and female receiving oral, blowjobs, fingering, sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, swearing. HEAVY ANGST
A/N - hope you all enjoy this. I had some much fun writing it and it’s one of my longest fics I’ve written. Please leave suggestions in the comments and requests are always open!
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The breakup was messy. You'd dated Lando for 2 years, but had known him for much longer than that. He was your everything, and you thought he'd remain that forever. But you were wrong. So wrong. Here you were, 6 months after the breakup and you heart was still breaking into pieces with each passing second.
You were a social media content creator for f1, and obviously Lando being a driver, meant you had spent a lot of time together, both in front of and behind the camera for about 3 years, until Lando asked you out and well, the rest was history. You both fell ferociously in love with each other - only for it to end in shatters.
Things were more than perfect at the end of last year. You'd had the most incredible winter break, and for the first time, you even spoke about getting married one day.
You were spending the last few days of the break on a ski trip in Finland. Lando had rented the coziest little cottage with a lush interior and fancy fire places to keep you warm from the blazing snow outside. The day had been filled with laughs and falls while skiing, and once you made it back in doors Lando jumped you in the shower. He pushed you to the wall, attacking your lips with his own, sliding his tongue into your mouth, exploring it. You were a moaning mess as you felt his hand slide down to your core, pinching and pulling at your clit as he slid two fingers in at once. ''Oh Lan'' you moaned into his ear, palming his throbbing dick and feeling it twitch in your hand, causing his breath to hitch at the sensation. ''Gonna fuck you senseless, yeah?'' he asked, before lowering to his knees, eyes not leaving yours. All you could do was nod your head and bite your lip as he licked a stripe up your cunt, collecting all your juices and using them as a lube to easily slide his tongue through your entrance. You pulled at his hair as he thrust in and out of you, shamelessly moaning the most obscene noises you could muster, as you released and came all over his mouth, shaking in his hands. He made sure to swallow everything before leaning up and kissing you with urgency, before he pushed you down by your shoulders to sit on your own knees now. You pumped him a few times as you spread his pre cum across his slit before you leaned forward and deep throated him, gagging in the process. Your hands pumped whatever you couldn't fit in as he held your hair out of your face, praising your name through gritted teeth. ''Taking me so fucking well baby'' he mumbled. He took a hold of your head now and fucked himself in and out of your mouth relentlessly, hardly giving you any room to breath. A few minutes later his movements were sloppy and his dick started twitching as you felt him shoot sheets of warm, salty cum down the back of your throat. You rode him through his orgasm before standing up again. He man handled you to face the other way, pulling your ass out and thrusting into you immediately, rough and fast. Your palms were flat on the wall as he pushed the side of your face against the cool tiles and fucked into you, whispering dirty nothings into your ear. His one hand snaked around your throat, applying some pressure as he continued his activities, telling how tight and how good you were for him, until your body was shaking and shuddering with the intense orgasm. He pulled out and somehow go the both of you out of the shower, before lifting you to sit on the counter by the sink. He spread your legs open and stuffed himself back into you, taking a hold onto your waist as your hands found and squeezed at his biceps. You came a third and fourth time before Lando was emptying his load into you, fucking it as far in as he could. You leaned forward on him, breathless, chuckling at the quick turn of events. He told you he loved you, you did the same. The night didn't end there though. Lando had fucked you in the kitchen again, ate you out in lounge on the floor by the fireplace, as well as in the hot tub, before you decided you wanted to taste again him so you gave him head so good he thought his mind might just explode. It was as if you were both starved of each other and hadn't had sex in days, though it was quite the opposite. You did the nasty almost everyday since the winter break started, and you still couldn't get enough of each other. When Lando fucked you for the last time that night, as you both lay in bed, he told you how you changed his life for the better, how he's never loved anyone as much as he loves you, and how he doesn't plan on loving anyone else but you. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes hearing him say all that. And as you both came in unison, Lando told you how one day he was going to marry you and how you'd start a family together. You had told him you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him. It was incredible while it lasted.
As the season started and Lando's head was focused on the world championships, and you slowly started to feel him slip away, race by race. You figured it was just the stress of it all that was causing him to shut you out.
Although you were a presenter for sky, it didn't mean you were at every race. You were often back at HQ in England, streaming from there or preparing notes for the next races you were to attend.
You would face time as best you could with the different time zones, and you always tried to be home in Monaco whenever he was. Normally he would run into your arms at first sight and pepper you in kisses, tell you how much he missed you. But by the 5th race he had distanced himself so much that all you got when he walked through the door was a ''hey'' and a retreat to your bedroom.
As the races continued your face times became less frequent, and most of your messages to him went un-answered. If my any miracle he did reply, it was just a short one or two word response. No more ''I love you's'' at the end.
The one day, when he was in Canada and had actually picked up your call, you asked him what was going on.
''Lan, is everything ok? You've been distancing yourself so much lately and I miss you, I really do'' you said through the screen.
He sighed. ''You know y/n, I have to focus on my job, keep my mind where I'm needed mentally and physically. It's not like I can race cars sitting at a desk like you do. I have to actually be here, and I thought I'd have more support from you to come to my races.''
Wait, what? Was he actually saying this to you right now? He'd always respected and supported your job, and now all of a sudden that's a problem for him?
''Lan, what? You know I come to as many races as possible, and it's also a job where I'm needed physically at HQ, but we've always made it work, and we always communicate as much as possible when we're apart. You know I always support you, even if I'm not there in person. Where is all this coming from?'' you asked, desperation in your eyes.
''Whatever, I can't deal with this now'' he said, before ending the call.
You scoffed, if he couldn't then you couldn't be arsed to deal with it now either.
He'd returned home the day before you did. He'd text you the morning you were supposed to arrive that he was going on a golfing trip with Carlos for a few days.
You were upset at the fact that he was choosing to spend his time home away from you, when he knew you wouldn't be going to the next 2 races. You'd tried to distract yourself and meet up with the other wags that were in town but it only made you more upset listening to how perfect their relationships seemed at the moment.
4 days later, Lando returned home. You were in the kitchen preparing lunch as he just walked through the door, ignoring you, and straight to your room.
You both were too stubborn to say anything for the rest of the day. You'd eaten in silence and done your own things until you went to bed. Normally he would be cuddling you from behind, kissing you breathless, but tonight you slept as far as possible though on the same bed.
What you weren't expecting was to be waking up the next morning with Lando hovering above you and pushing his dick into you. You moaned at the contact and instinctively bought your hands up to cup his face and pull him in for an urgent kiss, wrapping your legs around him as tight as you could. He set a quick, fast pace, fucking into your core eagerly. Your nails dug into his skin as your body trembled, reaching your orgasm quicker than usual because you were so desperate for a release, and it wasn't long until Lando was emptying himself into you. This time he pulled out straight away and went to the bathroom - to clean himself up - not you - before he jumped in the shower and then merely said he has paddle with the boys, leaving you hornier for more.
That was the last time he fucked you. He didn't touch you after that. One day, after the next race when you were both home again, you'd had a silly argument, both throwing metaphoric daggers at each other, and so Lando had been streaming all day, not interacting with you at all. You were in the lounge watching tv as you heard quiet moans coming from his streaming room. You quickly got up and silently walked to the room where the door was slightly jar. You watched as Lando had his cock in his hands, jerking off while watching porn.
You couldn't help but let a tear slide down your cheek as to what extent he was willing to go to to not be with you. But you still loved him, so you let it slide and busied yourself doing other things.
You'd caught him getting himself off a few more times - once in the bathroom in the middle of the night, once right next to you in bed, while he thought you were sleeping, and once sitting in his car just as you'd returned home from doing some shopping.
The one race you were working at, he again ignored you more times than you could count, and you'd ended up having multiple arguments about stupid things all 5 days that you were there. You'd both said hurtful things to each other, things you never thought you would say
You were reaching your breaking point now, he was not talking to you, not touching you, just shutting you out in every way possible, so you decided you needed to confront him about it.
At the start of summer break, the one day, Lando was sitting out on the balcony, watching the sunset, alone, a beer in hand.
You walked out and sat next to him, staring out at the beautiful Monaco view, before you looked at him and started talking.
''Lando, please talk to me. What's going on'' you said softly as you tried to keep you tears at bay.
Lando looked at you, for what felt like the fist time in months, his eyes beautiful as ever but not holding the usual warmth and love he once held for you.
''There's really nothing to talk about'' he said quietly, turning away from you.
''What do you mean? You've distanced yourself from me for months, and I've kept quiet, but you need to talk to me, tell me what's bothering you or what I'm doing wrong, because clearly I seem to be the problem here'' you said, the tears threatening to spill any second.
''Why does everything have to be about you? Fuck. You're so fucking needy all the time. Always calling and texting and trying to get my attention when I have more important things to deal with. If you want my attention so much then why the fuck aren't you at all my races?'' he spat.
''Is this what this is about? Me not coming to all your races?'' you asked, not believing it.
''I told you, it's not all about you.'' he said, throwing daggers at you.
''Lando, you're not making any sense. You say I'm needy then you blame me for not going to races. Where is all this coming from? Our communication has dropped so low. You seem to want to me away from me at al times. You don't talk to me, you don't do anything with me these days. You haven't even fucking touched me in months'' you say.
''Oh so now its about me not touching you? I don't have time for shit like that anymore'' he said, standing up and leaning against the balcony.
''It's about everything, Lan. How did we let our relationship sink this low? And don't think I didn't fucking catch you getting yourself off all those times after we last fucked'' you spat back, also standing up now.
His gaze on you turned angry. ''Ugh I'm so fucking sick of it all. All the whining and irritation. Take a fucking hint, y/n'' he said through gritted teeth, shouting at you now.
''So is this it then? Just throw away years of friendship and love because YOU let our relationship sink?'' you asked, voice softening, the tears falling uncontrollably now.
''The doors' fucking open'' he said, pointing at the door.
You heart shattered as he said that. He gave up on you, and now he was practically telling you to leave.
You stood there, frozen, before he spoke again.
''If you won't then i fucking will'' he said harshly, walking away from you and out of the door.
Your body went into shock. You managed to tremble inside before your legs gave way and you sat on the floor by the sofa. A series of wrecks ripping through your body.
You cried so much that night, your heart broken into a million pieces all by the person you loved the most.
On a different occasion, you knew Lando would rush back to you, apologize and ask for your forgiveness. But something in the way he spoke and looked at you tonight told you that this was really the end. He was done with you.
You didn't hear from him again after that. You tried, so hard to move on without him in your life. You packed your bags and left the apartment, finding a smaller place for yourself. Your job was still your passion, so you stuck with it, requesting to spend as much time as possible at HQ rather than going to races, to which your bosses kindly agreed to because they knew your relationship with Lando and how much you were struggling.
You closed off from mutual friends, even the wags, because all they did was remind you of what you once had with Lando. Carmen though stuck by your side through it all. She was your lifeline. Everyday felt like the worst day of your life, reliving the break up over and over again. By now you felt like you were functioning just for the sake of it.
Last month you even went on a date, but all you did the whole night was compare him to Lando - the Lando that you loved, not that broke your heart. You ended up saying you were feeling sick and left early.
Nothing was helping you move on. All you thought of 24 hours a day was what was and what should have been.
Lando though, didn't seem phased by anything. You often caught yourself looking at his Instagram account to see how he was doing, though you knew it was the worst thing to do. Gossip accounts would post regular updates of him walking out of clubs beaming, happier than ever, with a new girl at his side every time. It broke you how quickly he moved on. How okay he was without you, yet here you were trying to hate him and be angry at him, but not able to diminish the love you will probably always feel for him.
Your boss this morning had just told you that you had to go for the next race in Singapore. They desperately needed you back on their screens and the more you though of it, you needed to get back out there and move on with your life. You needed to block Lando, your lover, as much as you could, and only deal with Lando the driver.
You were excited to finally go to a race, you absolutely loved it and maybe it was a good first step for you. Sky had assured you that you would only be working with Ferraro this weekend, and have nothing to do with Mclaren.
It was also good to finally catch up with some of the other wags and your Sky girlfriends. After the first night out with them, you knew you were stronger than you thought and you knew you'd be okay.
It was media day today. You'd opted for a simple body-con dress, nothing too fancy or showy.
You held your breath as you entered the paddock. For the first time in over two years you were entering alone, not with Lando holding your hand, and your heart couldn't help but ache at the though of it.
But you quickly screwed your head back on and made a bee-line for the Ferrari garage. Charles' eyes brightened as soon as he saw you, rushing over to hug you. ''Y/n, its so good to see you again, we've really missed you the last few races'' he gushed.
''Ah it's good to see you too Char, and I'm so happy Alex is here so we can catch up!'' you said, jumping slightly when Carlos appeared out of nowhere and pulled you in for a hug.
''Our favorite presenter is finally back where she belongs'' he squealed.
The day was going well, you managed to do all your work in the Ferrari garage, as well as record a few bits for the pre-race shows. That was until you were being pulled into the driver press conferences to take notes for Craig Slater as his usual colleague fell ill.
You walked behind Craig, following him into the room and as you looked up you locked eyes with none other than Lando.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you took him in. He still looked handsome as ever, though his expression of initial shock of seeing you quickly turned to a frustrated look, clenching his jaw.
You sat down, hands shaking, and tried to concentrate on what you were here for. You listened carefully to the questions and answers, and when Craig asked Lando a question he couldn't have made it more obvious that he was not happy to be here let alone answering ridiculous questions. He shot daggers at everyone, replying sarcastic and cocky answers wherever he could.
As soon as the press conference was over he shot out of his seat and bee lined through the door. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding in. You walked into a passage and saw George came over to you and engulfed you in a tight hug. He knew how Lando had hurt you because of Carmen. You also knew you could trust him.
You couldn't help but break down completely in his arms, your sobs over taking your body as he held on to you and let you cry. ''You're okay, y/n, shh'' he whispered into your hair. ''Why does he look at me like he hates me?''you sobbed. ''Y/n, no he doesn't. He's just being an ass'' George reassured you'' After a few minutes you said ''I'm sorry.'' ''Hey, don't be sorry. I'm here for you whenever you need me'' he said, pulling back and looking into your eyes sincerely. He wipes your tears from your face and told you he'd give you a ride back to the hotel since you were staying at the same one.
You managed to calm down on the ride back. ''Call me if you need anything, anytime of the night'' George said, walking up to your room with you.
As you settled in bed that night your mind couldn't help but replay the once good times of yours and Lando's relationship. Your tears returned as you cried into your pillow. No matter how much you try to forget him and move on, your heart strings are still gravitating towards him.
Just as you were about to fall asleep your phone buzzed with a message. When you turned it over and saw who it was, your heart skipped a beat. It was him.
''Why the fuck are you here Y/n?'' was all he said.
''It's still my job Lando'' you replied, not sure which way this was going.
His next message sent another dagger through your heart-
''I don't want to be fucking anywhere near you''
By now you were full on sobbing again. How has he just forgotten everything from the last few years. He's literally talking to you like he hates you and can't stand the sight of you. You really didn't even know what to respond.
''Well you don't have to worry about that. I'm with Ferrari all weekend''
He didn't reply anything after that. Needless to say you cried yourself to sleep that night.
You got up early the next morning and went for a run to clear your mind. You needed to concentrate on work so you threw yourself in as soon as you got to the paddock. Filming with Charles and Carlos was always a fun time and they had lightened up your mood for a bit until they had to get into their cars for FP1 & 2.
At the end of the day, you'd stayed behind to finish some work up. Just as you were packing up you heard the door open, expecting it to me a mechanic or someone from Ferrari hospitality but when you looked up you were internally shaking. Lando.
He stood there, looking at you with the same disgust he'd shown you yesterday. Yes he still looked handsome but he also looked tired and worn out. Hair messy, eyes red. He didn't say anything right away.
Instead you both just looked at one another for multiple seconds. You tried to keep your composure and not let him see how broken you were. But with each passing second you were failing.
You finally cleared your throat and said his name, rolling it off your tongue left a bitter taste on it.
''Lan Lando'' you said, holding your breath.
His voice was firm but soft. ''Why the hell are you are y/n?'' he asked the same question as his text.
You sighed. ''I told you I still work with Sky. It's my job and I love it. I'm not going to leave just because you don't want me here'' you said, surprised at how you held your words with saying that.
Now it was his turn to sigh. ''But what don't you fucking understand'' he almost shouted, putting his hands in his pockets. ''I don't want to fucking be around you. I don't want to associate you with my love for racing, so stop coming here'' he spat.
You let a few tears roll down your cheek, heart breaking all over again at his words. ''Lando what did I ever do to you to make you hate me like this. Why? Why did you distance yourself and why did you walk away from me?'' you whispered.
He shook his head. ''All I know is that we were a mistake. We were wrong in so many ways, and I wish we had nothing to do with each other'' he said in a low voice.
By now you were struggling to breath, literally. You sat yourself back down and held your head in your shaky hands, your mind refusing to believe he was saying all of this to you. You were having a full on panic attack in front of him.
Gasping for air, you looked at him again. ''Lando I-I-'' you said, begging him to do or say something to calm you down. He was always the one who would do so and now he was the one causing the pain.
You shut your eyes and took a few deep breaths while he just stood there and looked at you.
This was it, you thought. You had to find a way to let him go and live your life with him in the past. You won't let yourself continue to love someone who doesn't love you back. Someone who hurt you in so many ways and who said painful things about your relationship in which you were at your happiest.
Just as you were about to look up again you felt hands on your knees. You gasped as you saw Lando leaning down, tears in his own eyes. He squeezed your knees and opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out. Instead his tears spilled over onto his cheeks. His touch sent a jot of electricity through your body.
You placed your hands on top of his and smiled through your tears. ''I'll go, you wont have to worry about being near me anymore'' you whispered, though he quickly shook his head.
''Yes, I'll be fine. You'll be fine'' you said, even though you didn't believe yourself one bit.
What you didn't know was Lando's side of the story.
Everything was perfect. You were both in love. Life was good, more than good. Then this year came along, and Mclaren suddenly had a competitive car. He was closer than ever to be in contention for both drivers' and constructors' championships. He didn't know how to handle the highs and lows, the pleasure and pain. And instead of coming to you for help, he pushed you away. He became the nastiest person he'd ever been. He hurt you in ways you never deserved in a million years, thinking it'd be easier if you hated him, that way he can focus on racing. But boy was he wrong. Distancing himself from you in the beginning was frustrating and felt wrong in so many ways, but he pushed himself away from you, telling his brain it was for the best even though his heart and gut knew what he was doing was wrong. Then even when he was around you physically, he had to keep himself away. Instead of throwing himself in your arms after being away from each other, he barely acknowledged you. He refused to let himself touch you, kiss you even though all he wanted was your comfort. The one time he fucked you was a moment of weakness, or so he told himself. And then the breakup. The most gut-wrenching day of his life. The words he'd thrown at you, the lies he told you, the guilt he made you feel. He was broken when he walked out of the door that day. Every cell in his body was telling him to come back into the house and apologize to you, beg for your forgiveness, hug you and never let you go, yet his mind was made up, and he couldn't look at you again without feeling the pain of all the guilt of everything - so he didn't turn back. For 6 months he used every girl that threw herself at him, in the hopes that he could forget about you and move on, though he found himself comparing every girl to you. None of their hair was soft and silky as yours, no one had smooth and lush skin, no one had curves in all the right places, no one kissed him and touched like you, no one fucked him as good as you did. But most importantly, no one was as beautiful, as kind, as intelligent as you were. He was miserable, jumping from one girl to another only to be praising your name as he came and have her call him a dickhead before walking out. He shouldn't have been surprised to see you back at the Paddock - it was also your job to be there. But when he locked eyes with your he felt all the air leave his lungs, and even though he wanted nothing more than to run up to you and take you in his arms, he decided that being pissed off was the easier option. As if it was. When he'd texted you last night, it was more of an excuse just to 'text you,' not to be an asshole, but of course, he was nothing less than as ass. And today, he was about the head out back to the hotel when Charles had asked how he felt having you back in the paddock, and eventually he'd let slip that you were still here, working late. Lando's feet had auto-piloted their way to you. Did he plan on hurting you again? No. Did he hurt you again? Yes. As soon as the words left his mouth of calling your relationship a mistake, he wanted the world to swallow him up. It was anything but a mistake. It was all-consuming love that held passion, kindness, trust, honesty, and earnestness. And he ended up throwing it all away for nothing. Not that anything would be worth it. He should never have even thought anything like that, let alone say it out loud to you. The last straw was not helping you through your panic attack. You all but begged him for help and all he did was stood there, feet stuck to the ground as he couldn't believe such vile words left his mouth causing you to go through all of this. Without thinking he ran up to where you were sitting and knelt down, his hands coming into contact with your skin after months of agony. Through all of this, even though his actions were the exact opposite - he never stopped loving you. Not once. He decided then and there that he needed to own up to his mistakes and ask for your forgiveness, even though he doesn't in a million lifetimes deserve it.
''Y/n,'' he said, voice breaking.
''No Lando, you don't have to say anything. I'll leave, never come to the paddock again, I'll find a new way in life for myself. One that doesn't revolve around you. I promise. You don't have to worry anymore. I-'' you stated while he cut you off.
''No no no y/n, listen to me'' he said then continued-
''You don't understand. It's not you that i hate. It's me. It's all fucking me'' he said through his tears that were now freely falling.
You honestly didn't know how to respond, so you stayed silent, hands still above his on your knees.
''I know I don't deserve you even listening to what I have to say but please, please just hear me out. Even if you hate me after everything, I need to tell you'' he begged.
You nodded.
''Y/n nothing was ever your fault. We had the most incredible relationship and I went and fucked it up. I know it sounds fucked up, but having a competitive car this year threw me off balance. I didn't know how to deal with the ups and downs, and instead of coming to you for help or telling you how I felt I shut you out, pushed you away, and disrespected you so much that i physically fucking hate myself for it. It's no excuse for how i treated you but i need you know that not for one second did i ever stop loving you. I don't think there will ever be a time where I'm not in love with you. Walking out the way I did in Monaco ended my world and even though i wanted to walk straight back in to you, i knew i didn't deserve to after everything i said. I am so, so incredibly sorry for everything I said and did. I know it's selfish for me to ask, but please, please forgive me, even though you owe me nothing. I hope we can find our back to each other because living in this world without you is the worst, most painful feeling I've felt these last 6 months. We were never a mistake, and we will never ever be a mistake. I love you so much y/n'' he said softy through his tears.
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. It was all too much. Too many words spoken for you to process everything he said. You wanted to believe him, to jump back into his arms and tell him your forgive him, tell him you love him more than anything. But you had to protect your heart before any of that could happen.
''Lan'' you whispered, unable to say anything more as your tears were flowing uncontrollably.
''It's okay baby, I know, that was a lot. Catch your breath. Just breath'' he said, bringing his forehead to yours, Whether he was trying to calm you or himself down, he didn't know. But he held onto your hands and squeezed them tight.
As hurt as you were by him, he actually managed to calm you down and bring your breath back to a normal pace.
You pulled away from him after a few minutes, looking into his puffy and red eyes, breaking at how this was all affecting him more than you thought it was.
''Lan,'' you started again.
''I really appreciate you telling me all of this. But you hurt me, so much, more than I ever thought possible.''
He nodded his head, tears returning to his eyes.
You continued - ''And as much as i still love you, as much as i want to go back to where we were a year ago,'' you sniffled. ''I need time. I need time to think through it all. I can't risk my heart being broken by you again. I have to protect it'' you said, unable to wipe away at his tears.
He nodded again, held onto your hands that were still holding his face. ''I know. What I did was awful and I don't expect you to take me back right away. I completely understand. But please know I will always, always wait for you. No matter how long it takes. I only want to be with you, so whether you want me in a minute, a year, or 10 years, I'm only yours, if you'll have me, that is.''
You nodded and stayed staring at each other for what felt like hours but was probably only 5 minutes.
Lando cleared his throat and mumbled that he needed to get back to the debrief.
He gently got up and leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, letting his lips linger there for longer than he should have.
''I'll see you around, yeah?'' he whispered.
''Yeah, see you'' you cooed, trying to break a smile at him as he returned it before walking out.
You let out a few heavy breaths, trying to allow your mind to catch up to what had just happened.
The next two days of the race weekend passed with a blur. You were so busy at work that the times you were in the paddock you hardly had time to breath, let alone let your mind wander to Lando.
You'd seen him i passing a few times, the both of you giving each other a shy smile, before either you or him were being pulled away for something or the other.
He'd texted you last night after quali, just checking in and asking if you'd wanted to fly back to Monaco with a few of the other guys and mutual friends. He said he hoped he wasn't over stepping too soon. But you'd appreciated the offer and told him you've love to.
Once you were back in Monaco Lando hugged you tight and kissed your cheek, before you drove off in different directions to your houses.
The few weeks that followed that weekend were both a breath of fresh air and a mix of longing and desperation.
You were glad and grateful that Lando had explained himself, but that still didn't justify why he hurt you so much, and so even though you wanted to go back to him, your heart was still wary and doubtful.
He'd texted you a few times in between, the conversations light and positive from both you and him.
You hadn't seen him until you bumped into each other at Jimmyz one night. You were out celebrating one of your girlfriends' bachelorette's party.
It was the first time in a long time that you were excited to dress up and go out, try and have a good time. You opted to wear a white lacey dress, that left little to the imagination. It wasn't you go to dress since it was quite daring - but you woke up today feeling good about a day full of opportunities(!!!!)
You'd been in the club for about an hour, actually having fun and dancing with your girlfriends, drinking enough to be a bit tipsy but not drunk.
At one point, you went to the bar to get another drink. While you were waiting for it your eyes wandered around the club - watching people dance and drink like crazy until you you found none other than Lando's eyes.
Your breath hitched and you couldn't help but internally swoon at him. He looks so good, in his black button up and backwards cap. his eyes instantly turned a shade darker the more you looked at each other. As the shock sore off, his face broke out into a smile that held a thousand suns in it and you returned it with your own.
He started making his way towards you, drink in hand until he was standing in front of you. Neither of you made a move or said anything, until Max Fewtrel broke you both out of your trance and pulled you in for the tightest hug, drunk, and mumbled how much he'd missed you.
He situated himself to sit on a stool at the bar, in between you and Lando, mumbling away and talking nonsense.
You could see from Lando's face that he was starting to get annoyed with his friend. He reached over and took your hand, electricity igniting between the two of you and he pulled you to a booth where you could finally be alone.
Your heart was fluttering in your chest at the contact, as he didn't let go when you were standing to each other again, with nothing in-between.
He smiled again. ''How are you?'' he asked.
''I'm, I-I'' you stuttered, not finding your words.
He gave you a worried look, smile dropping and eyes wearing a shade on concern, which quickly turned to lust when he saw you bite your lip.
Suddenly, Lando launched himself at you. He pushed you against the wall, cupped your face and crashed his lips to your with an urgency so unfound you had no time to think but reach you hands up to his face.
The kiss was messy and desperate, the both of your starved of each other for too long.
''Lando'' you cooed between breaths as he slightly pulled up and rested his forhead against yours.
''Fuck'' he mumbled. ''I'm sorry'' he said, started to pull back but you kept a firm hold on his face and shook your head at him, before bringing your lip back to his and sliding your tongue into his mouth.
He responded instantly, hands returning to wrap around your body to pull you as close as possible as his tongue fought with yours, winning eventually and sliding into your mouth now.
Your hands found his hair and pulled at it as Lando's mouth moved down to your neck and sucked and nipped at it, finding your sweet spot as if he'd never forgotten.
You moaned at his actions as you rubbed your thighs together, something he didn't miss. It took everything in him to pull away and look into your eyes.
'''Let's get out of here, yeah?'' he asked, voice laced with desperation.
You couldn't form words now. All you knew was you were so horny for him, and if you didn't find some privacy soon, you might just let him fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to watch.
''Y/n?'' he pulled you out of your thoughts.
''Uh huh'' you said, grabbing his hand and letting him lead you out the exit.
The uber back to his place - once yours too - was palpable with sexual tension.
You couldn't keep you hands off each other, and you were practically sitting in Lando's lap as he nuzzled his face into your neck and hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear which had you blushing.
You cupped his face again and kiss him slow and deep, savoring the moment until he ruined it (not that you were complaining) by slipping your boobs out of your dress and lowering his mouth to them.
He sucked at your peaked nipples, pinching them between his fingers as you tried to suppress your moans bu pulling hard on his hair.
Finally, the uber driver cleared his throat, telling you you were home. As Lando payed him a generous tip, you slipped your boobs back into your dress and shimmied out of the car, Lando not far behind you before he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.
You giggled as he tried and failed to open the door a couple of times before finally getting the right key and walking into the house.
As soon as the door was shut he had you pressed against it.
His dark eyes stayed on yours before he ripped your dress off of you into two pieces.
''Lando!'' you squealed, pouting at him.
He smirked. ''Oh don't 'Lando' me as if you aren't turned on by it'' he said, knowing you all to well.
You stuck your tongue out at him.
As you stood there, hands behind your back, Lando shamelessly gawked at your body.
You didn't miss how his eyes turned shades darker when he saw you weren't wearing any panties.
You licked your lips and sighed. ''You're still wearing too many clothes'' you cooed.
He looked back up at you, though didn't say anything.
Instead he walked closer to you and sank down on his knees, prying your legs open all the while his eyes never left yours.
You held onto his hair and bit your lip, knowing what was coming as he gently reached up and let the back of his index finger slide through your dripping folds.
Your body hissed at the contact, having dreamt of this feeling too many times since you last felt it.
With ease, he slide his finger through your entrance before leaning forward and using his mouth to devour your pussy.
You gasped and moaned as you placed your one leg over his shoulder, giving him better access.
''Fuck Lan, yes, please'' you said through breaths as he also moaned at finally tasting you again.
He pulled back to add to more fingers as you closed your eyes, rolling them to the back of your head.
''Taste so fucking delicious baby, missed this so much'' he mumbled before diving straight back in.
You could feel your orgasm approached hard and fast, and before you could even warn him it was ripping through your body, shaking you above him as you moaned one of the most obscene noises you think you've ever made.
You gushed your fluids all over his face as he tried to swallow as much of it as he could as he rode you through your orgasm.
He finally pulled back and stood up again, lets his lips latch onto yours so you could taste yourself on him. Lando pulled and bit at your bottom lip as you started to unbutton his shirt and take his belt off.
When he was left in his his jeans, he hoisted you up again, smacking your ass as he stalked to the bedroom, dropping you on the bed.
You giggled as you sat on your knees and hooked your fingers through his belt loops as he leaned down and kissed you again. You popped his bottom open and slid his jeans down, ogling at the growing bulge in his boxers as he took the jeans off completely.
You palmed his thick girth, eager to have him in your mouth. Just as you were removing his boxers he stopped you.
''You don't have to'' he said sincerely. But god, you wanted to.
So you ignored him and continued your task, groaning when you finally set him free. His dick was standing hard and tall, angrier than you'd seen before, with the vein at the side throbbing with the blood rush. You took him in your hand and licked your lips at the sight of pre cum oozing out the slit at the top.
He placed his hands on you, taking a hold of you head as you leaned forward and harshly sucked on just his tip, letting your tongue run over the slit, swallowing all the pre cum.
''Fuck me'' you heard him mumble as you took more of him in your mouth and pumping what you couldn't fit in.
You deep throated him, feeling him hit the back of your throat as his hands on your head tightened, and began a quick pace of sliding him through your lips.
Lando let out a series of moans and praises of you.
''You're so fucking good at this, don't know how I survived without it for so long, fuck y/n'' he said through gritted teeth again.
You were gagging, tears threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.
Hearing him say all those things had your core dripping, clenching around nothing. And so as you got distracted him rubbing your thighs together, Lando took full control.
He was fucking his dick in and out of your mouth, showing it no mercy until you felt him start to twitch uncontrollably.
''Fuck y/n, gonna cum, yeah?'' he said. You knew he was asking if he should cum in your mouth or pull out.
But you didn't slow your actions. Instead you fondled with his balls, pulling at the tightly until he could barely hold his body up, ropes of warm cum shooting down the back of your throat.
Fuck he tasted good you thought as you rode him through.
Words had long left his mind as all he did was let out his own obscene moans and groans, slipping your name in in-between.
You pulled back as you swallowed everything and sent him a sheepish smile. You were both spent and you hadn't even fucked yet.
Lando pushed you down and hovered above you, kissing you again as you wrapped your legs around his body, begging him for more.
''Lan please, i need you to fuck me, please''
Normally he would tease you for begging like that, but he wanted nothing more than the same.
So he pumped himself a few times, sliding through your folds and lining himself up at your entrance.
''Ready baby?'' he asked.
You nodded eagerly.
He pushed in, quickly, stretching you out. It burned, since the last time you had sex it was with Lando when he fucked you before the breakup.
You held you breath as he bottomed out, stopping his movements to allow to you get used to the intrusion.
''You ok?'' he asked after a few seconds.
''Yeah, I am. You can move'' you whispered.
And he did. He pulled out and slammed back into you roughly.
Your nails were digging into his back, probably drawing blood as all you could was moan at how he felt.
His own moans were more pornographic that ever, and he quickly set a pace that was so rough and hard, but felt so fucking good.
''Lan, yes, fuck, uh'' you said, groaning with each thrust as his mouth found your nipples to suck and bite at.
''So fucking tight my angel. Feels so good. Taking me so fucking good'' he moaned.
''Not gonna last long'' you managed to mumble.
''Don't hold it in. let it out baby'' he said, bringing his fingers down to toy with your clit.
In no time you felt the warmth build up in your stomach as you pulled Lando's head up for a dirty kiss, spit from the blowjob still messy around your mouth and chin.
''Fuck Lan, I'm gonna cum'' you said as your body shuddering with your orgasm fluttering through you, your inner walls clenching around his cock almost painfully.
He didn't slow his movements though. He whispered dirty words into your ear and you instantly felt yourself getting worked up again, waiting for another blissful orgasm.
Suddenly he stopped his movements. Your eyes flew open, ready to protest as he slid out of you and sat against the headboard.
''Need to feel you ride me, please'' he begged as he helped you to your knees as your straddled him.
You both sat there, panting as you took a hold of his cock and sank down on him, gripping his shoulders tightly as you set another hard and fast pace, bouncing up and down on him.
Lando's eyes flew to your boobs, his mouth agape as he watching them move with you.
''So fucking hot baby. Gonna fuck a baby into you one day and see how your boobs grow even bigger''
All you managed to do was moan at his words as you leaned down and captured his own nipple into your mouth, biting and sucking at it as he was now meeting you half way, fucking into you.
''Fuck Lan, you feel so good'' you said, feeling another orgasm approaching quickly.
''Hmm baby'' he mumbled.
You moaned loud as you orgasmed again, your fluids gushing out of you and making a mess.
''Feel's so fuckin tight'' Lando moaned as you started to feel his movements get sloppier.
He was in control again since your body was still shaking and tired from your orgasm as his cock started twitching inside of you.
In minutes he was cumming in you, praising your name to no end as sheets of warm cum filled you up. His own body shaking and shuddering against yours.
As you rode through your orgasms and slowed your pace you looked at Lando again, taking in his disheveled state, eyes still dark, mouth agape letting out little breaths, hair messy and stuck to his forehead, sweat dripping down his face and onto his body. He was as spent as you felt.
He puled you closer and gave you the sweetest smile.
''Thank you'' he said, pecking your nose.
''I love you Lan, I never stopped. And i want to be with you. Forever. you cooed.
''I love you too baby, always, and thank you for giving me another change. I won't hurt you again. I promise.'' he said, kissing your knuckles.
You leaned against him, both content just being in each others' arms again, as you felt him soften in front of you.
''Shower?'' he said, smirking.
You grinned. ''Always,'' before kissing him for the millionth time tonight.
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thef1diary · 1 month ago
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i feel like team principal!carlos would always be very professional with driver!reader around the paddock. no showing off, only if you have a moment for yourselves in his office or the driver room. discretion is very important for him. he doesn't want people to view you like someone who just sucked his dick to get the job.
but behind closed doors? lord have mercy. the most giving, attentive and caring man. that doesn't mean he doesn't like it rough, he'd do anything for you. you want the princess treatment? done. you want to be treated like a slut? your wish is his command. anything to please you and make you feel good.
i want him so bad😵‍💫
🩵
— I want him so bad too, nonnie! He knows the difficulties of being a driver, esp the media waiting for the smallest mistakes before putting out articles talking down on your character, so he doesn’t burden you with having to worry about your relationship with him in public. In private though…he’s bringing out the needy slut in you. That’s the duality of team principal!carlos 🤭 18+ content below
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The moment you step into the paddock, it’s all business. Carlos barely spares you a glance longer than necessary, his demeanor calm and composed. He calls you by your last name in meetings, never straying into anything that could be misconstrued as favouritism. To anyone watching, he’s your team principal—fair, supportive, but strictly professional.
“Good session out there,” he says after a debrief, tone measured. There’s a flicker in his eyes that you catch only if you’re paying close attention, a quiet pride that he can’t fully suppress. It makes your heart race, but you force yourself to nod and keep walking, knowing his discretion is as much for your sake as it is his.
But the truth? The truth lies behind closed doors.
The moment the lock to your hotel room clicks, his professionalism dissolves like smoke. He’s on you instantly, hands cupping your face, your hips, pulling you close as his lips claim yours with a hunger that’s only grown throughout the day. “You’ve been on my mind all morning,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice low, velvety, and laced with need.
Carlos will do anything for you. Whatever you need, whatever it takes to make you feel good, to make you better—he’s more than willing to give it to you.
Stressed before a race? He’ll pull you into your driver’s room, press you against the wall, and slide his fingers inside your cunt, watching every flicker of tension melt away. His words are soft, coaxing, demanding your pleasure. “Focus on me, nena,” he’ll whisper, his thumb circling your clit just right. “Let me take care of you.”
A win? He’s your biggest fan and your most rewarding prize. Later that night, still soaked with champagne, he’ll lean over you while you’re on your hands and knees. He’ll fuck your pretty little cunt until you’re taking every drop of his cum as your reward. “You’ve earned this,” he’ll say, voice thick with pride and lust. “Take it all, hermosa. All for you.”
A bad result? Carlos isn’t cruel, but he believes in consequences, in helping you learn from your mistakes. He’ll pull you over his lap in his office that same night, his voice low and firm as he tells you exactly what you did wrong, sharp slaps alternating between your ass and your cunt punctuating his words. And then, when the next race weekend rolls around, he’ll bend you over his desk and bully his cock into you. So when you’re sitting in the cockpit, waiting for the lights to go out, your cunt is edged beyond limits and insanely sore, reminding you to never repeat the same mistake again. His punishment works beautifully, leading you to win the race, and he finally rewards you with multiple orgasms.
He’s your boss, yes—but in every way that matters, he’s so much more than that. He doesn’t just fulfill your needs; he anticipates them, giving you what you didn’t even know you craved. Sometimes he’s rough, sometimes gentle, but it’s always for you, for your performance, for your pleasure. He knows what you need better than you do, and he’ll always, always make sure you’re taken care of.
send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts about your fave au and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days!
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themultifanshipper · 2 months ago
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after re-reading the newlyweds!au for the third? fourth? time i've been daydreaming of the actual wedding party😭 any chance we could get a prequel starting with the night before the wedding where carlos and reader can't sleep so they tire themselves out👀👉👈 as well as maybe party shenanigans with the drivers and reader's friends after?
thank you 💕 i seriously enjoy reading all of your fics, keep up the amazing work 🫰
You were getting married tomorrow.  
Married. Fucking married to the love of your life.
Sleep didn't want to come for you that night, you were much too excited about your special day.
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series masterlist
Warnings: smut, bickering, face fucking, pussy eating, implied squirting?, implied subspace?, using body weight to pin someone down, aftercare, Carlos being a bit of a freak ngl
You were laying on your bed, buzzing with nervous energy while Carlos took his turn in the shower.
It was nerve wracking, but it was also going to be the best damn day of your life.
Marrying Carlos Sainz was no small affair. He had a huge family, and so did you, and the extravagant event had been payed for by his father, along with some generous contributions from your friends and colleagues of the paddock, many of whom were also attending.
The party would be wild, you knew it already, Lando being the main organiser, and more than one embarrassing moment would undoubtedly be immortalised by the wedding photographer.
And through it all, Carlos would be there, by your side with a hand around your waist.
And the other would probably be feeling up your arse in the curve-hugging dress you'd picked out.
By the time you'd finished dreaming about the day ahead, Carlos had come out of the shower and was leaning against the doorframe, admiring his soon to be wife.
“I cannot wait until you are stuck with me forever” he sighed dreamily.
You snorted.
“More like you're stuck with me.”
He grinned and slowly made his way towards the bed.
“Well, it is true you are stubborn… and reckless… and insatiable”
When he got to your level, he curled a hand around your ankle and suddenly tugged you down the bed.
You gasped and tried to cover yourself. The only thing you were wearing was a silky robe, which had ridden up as you were dragged across the covers.
“Carlos!” you scolded.
He hummed and climbed on top of you, putting his hands either side of your head, caging you in.
“Say my name again, it sounds so good in your mouth” he purred and you rolled your eyes.
“Yeah yeah, I know exactly what you want to put in my mouth and it also starts with a C” your finger trailed through the smattering of coarse hair on his chest.
He lifted an eyebrow as a smirk tugged at his lips. If you were in the mood, he certainly wasn't going to stop you.
“You don't want to say my name?” he teased, hands going to untie your robe.
You shook your head like a petulant child, zipping your lips and throwing away the key.
He chuckled darkly and stood up, throwing his towel on the floor.
“Then we need to find a better use for that mouth of yours, come here”
You smirked and slinked down onto the floor, on your knees in front of him.
He grimaced and quickly grabbed one of the pillows to put under you.
So thoughtful even when he was planning on fucking your throat until you cried.
You took him into your mouth while he was still only half hard, so it was easy to take him whole.
Carlos was a grower, not a shower.
It wasn't long before you choked around him, no longer able to take all of him as your hand went to wrap around what you couldn't fit.
He groaned, putting your hair in a makeshift ponytail so that he could see your beautiful eyes look up at him with tears in them.
“You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth” he whispered, fully in awe of you as you drooled at his praise.
He rocked his hips back and  forth, shallowly thrusting into the heat of your mouth while you tried your best to relax your throat for him.
He pulled you down further and further, forcing you to take more of him and he let out little gasps every time he hit the back of your throat.
“So perfect for me, letting me use you like this. I can't believe I will be able to have this for the rest of our lives…”
He kept babbling out praise as he got closer to the edge, and eventually he came, filling your mouth and you eagerly swallowed it all, sticking your tongue out to show him.
“Good girl” he groaned, patting your cheek. “Now it's your turn”
He leaned down to pick you up, hands hooking under your thighs and he threw you onto the bed.
He wasted no time climbing on top of you and spreading your legs.
“Baby…” he tutted “You are so wet even though I have not even touched you yet…”
He leaned down slowly, painfully slowly, dark eyes never leaving yours as he stuck his tongue out and stopped, hovering just above your aching heat.
The intensity of the moment made you whimper, he was just staring at you intently while you trembled underneath him, waiting for him to close the distance between his mouth and where you needed him most.
“Please…” you whispered, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
His mouth twisted into a dark smirk, exposing his teeth as he dipped down, eyes still fixed on yours.
Incredibly slowly, and maddeningly gently, he licked a stripe up your folds up to your clit, and then went back to hovering a few inches above your skin.
He swallowed, savouring the taste of you, eyes darkening even more as they still never left yours.
“Delicious” he growled.
He hooked your thighs over his shoulders, arms wrapping around them to hold you open for him as he dipped down and devoured you.
His tongue didn't leave any part of you unexplored as he dragged it up and down, and in and out of you, and you threaded your hands through his luscious hair.
You tugged on it, making him groan into your flesh and you knew you weren't going to last long.
“Fuck-“ your high pitched whines just served to motivate him to go faster, and in no time you were crying out as your body writhed under his unrelenting tongue.
You panted hard as you came down from your orgasm, looking down at a dissatisfied looking Carlos.
“What's wrong?” you asked perplexed.
He pretended to think for a moment before shrugging and giving you a dark look.
“You didn't even scream my name… It must not have been good enough.”
He tightened his grip on your thighs.
“I guess I have to try again” and with that he dived in again, licking long strokes over your clit as your hips tried to buck away.
“Fuck! I can't come again Carlos.”
“Don't try to get out of it now. I will make you come as many times as it takes to tire you out, hermosa”
You whimpered as his tongue dipped back down and a finger slid into you without resistance.
He pumped it in and out a few times before adding a second one, the slight stretch making you keen as the stimulation on your sensitive clit and on your g-spot made you see stars.
When the third finger joined, he stopped pumping in favour of just rubbing the pads of his fingers roughly against your inner walls and you moaned loudly as you felt your second high quickly approaching.
Your hands tightened in his hair and seconds before you were going to come, he withdrew his fingers completely, giving your clit one last lick and climbing up the bed to tower over you.
“Bastardito” you panted and he chuckled.
“That is not a word” he teased, pulling your legs up to hold them against your chest.
“Perhaps I should give you some Spanish lessons” his cock rubbed against you, lightly stimulating your clit as he hummed to himself.
“Maybe you should shut up and fuck your wife”
He lifted an eyebrow cockily.
“You are not my wife yet. Isn't sex before marriage like… a sin or something?”
You giggled. “Baby, that ship set sail a long time ago”
He smirked.
“English expressions are so stupid” he mocked.
“Your dick is stupid” you retorted.
“It's about to fuck you stupid” he growled playfully.
You bit your lip and smiled.
“It can try”
His tongue poked the inside of his cheek and his jaw clicked.
“It will succeed”
He lined up and pushed inside, pushing against your cervix as he bottomed out.
He shuddered, your tight walls were clenching around him and he had to take a second to breathe.
He sat up and placed his hands on the backs of your thighs, pressing them harder into your chest and making you sink further into the mattress.
Once he was sure he'd put enough weight on you to stop you being able to move, he bucked his hips and you moaned at the action.
The added pressure on your stomach made you cry out as he slammed into your g-spot repeatedly. He was going to force this orgasm out of you at an unnatural speed and you almost blacked out from the pleasure coursing through your body.
He grinned, the dark look from earlier returning as he rammed into you at an incredible pace, stamina unmatched as you fell apart under him.
You wanted to touch him, maybe give his back a few scratches, but your arms were useless as this point so you just grabbed the sheets in extasy.
“Touch yourself, hermosa. I want you to feel so good the neighbours hear my name loud and clear.”
Your barely had the presence of mind to do so, but you brought a hand to your sopping folds and felt where Carlos' cock was drilling into you.
It was intense, being literally held down and pounded into the mattress by your fiancé.
You rubbed lazy circles into your clit and he felt you pulsing around him as your orgasm crept up on you.
“Good girl. Now come on my cock, I want you to soak these sheets”
You screamed his name as you came, indeed soaking the sheets as he fucked every last drop out of you.
He couldn't hold himself back any longer, he came inside you with a groan and stilled, collapsing on top of you.
You were on cloud nine, mind floating as he stroked your cheek and kissed you sweetly.
“I love you, so much.” He whispered against your lips.
You hummed into the kiss, whimpering when he pulled out of you and let go of your legs slowly, letting you stretch them out as your hips ached.
He went to grab a glass of water and a damp cloth to clean you up, and once he'd ensured you had drank at least half the glass, he tucked you into bed and kissed your forehead.
He cleaned himself up quickly in the bathroom, then slid in next to you to hold you in his arms.
You definitely needed to get at least a few hours of shut-eye, because tomorrow was probably going to be a very busy day.
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s-awturn · 5 months ago
Text
What it's like to date them || F1 Grid
cw: cuteness, display of affection, obscenity (?), a little dirty and degrading, love in its purest form.
starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1 x latina!fem reader
a/n: after days without posting anything, I'm back, before you ask, I have the draft of Underworld Sun started, I have a Toto oneshot halfway through and something else in the draft, however,I wanted to write this because I know you like it and I like to make my readers happy, so enjoy!
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he is a complete gentleman, he opens doors for you, pulls out chairs for you to sit down;
LEWIS HAMILTON:
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even though he is very discreet, he makes sure everyone knows that you are his;
he loves it when you wear his clothes publicly or clothes with his name and/or number on them;
flowers, gifts, even a car, he loves to spoil you with anything you want;
jealous? Absolutely not, he knows that no one is good enough to attract his attention;
he loves your legs, completely in love with them and loves them even more when they are around his waist or head;
kisses on the hand and forehead are common things in your daily lives;
he loves it when you speak to him in his native language, he pretends he doesn't understand anything just to see you blush when he asks what it means;
there are many photos of you on his Instagram, without any further comments;
he likes privacy, so no quick sex in risky places;
in fact, he hates quick sex because he likes to fuck you in his own time, without rushing;
'Mrs. Hamilton's, 'my love', 'my life', 'darling', that's all he talks to you about.
but it's not because you're not going to have sex in some risky place that he won't tease you, he fucking loves seeing you trying to control yourself, keeping your composure;
fetish for compliments? Yes;
even if they are degrading compliments;
“You're so beautiful, baby, how can someone so beautiful be so depraved?”
you are the paddock's favorite couple;
CARLOS SAINZ:
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he carries your bag or anything you have in your hand;
'mi reina', 'corazón', 'mi tesoro', 'mi cielo' is what he always calls you;
he takes you to Mallorca whenever he can;
sex in the car, sex in the driver's lounge, sex after the races, sex anywhere;
if there is an argument, his father is on his side;
you hate that he pays for things for you, but he doesn't care, he will pay for anything you want;
he is always, always touching you;
he always takes you to parties where he knows Latin music will be playing, because he loves to see you dance;
he loves to fuck you in your old bedroom at your parents' house, with your family downstairs;
long, overstimulating foreplay;
cute declarations of love in spanish and italian because yes;
he loves dancing reggaeton, salsa, samba or bachata with you;
yours, completely yours. He dedicates victories to you, you are the one he turns to in bad times, it is always about you;
sometimes he doesn't pay attention to what you say because he's obsessed with the movements of your mouth, he loves your mouth, kisses you whenever he can and loves the feeling of your lips around his cock;
kink size, kink size, kink, size, kink size, kink size;
"Don't make noise, corazón, we don't want your parents to hear you moaning, right?"
you are always holding hands, in any situation, anywhere;
CHARLES LECLERC:
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he himself took his things to his house, clothes, cosmetics, books...;
he records TikTok trends with you;
he loves kissing you, from little pecks, cute kisses, to those that take your breath away and leave you anxious;
he understands a little Spanish and no Portuguese, but he loves to hear you speak and tries to use Google Translate (and fails miserably);
dance with him, dance for him, for God's sake just dance;
he loves your home country, loves knowing that you come from a different culture than his and wants to learn everything;
you are always traveling around your country, he loves dating a Latin girl;
it takes you to the best places in Monaco;
and fucks you in all of them;
'mon amour', mon cœur, 'mon ange', 'mon bébé', 'douceur', are some of the nicknames he calls you;
even if it is risky;
he installed The Sims on his computer for you to play;
He always wants you, his desire for you knows no bounds;
call him to fuck anytime, he will want to. Always;
he prepares movie sessions for you in the living room;
he cooks for you (and he's good at it);
Leo likes you more than you like him, and he loves it;
he always takes you to the Paddock, but keeps you away from Max Verstappen (for safety);
he loves (a lot) your hips, he's always touching them, holding them tightly, he's in love with that part of your body and loves it when you wear clothes that highlight this area;
"S'il te plaît, mon amour, sit on my face"
he's a complete sucker for you;
LANDO NORRIS:
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there are few things he loves more than you;
he is literally the guy who likes to get hit by beautiful women;
especially if it's you;
he loves (so fucking much) when you speak Spanish or Portuguese to him;
and is learning the language;
wear his clothes and have him on his knees for you;
he buys you many, many books, just so you read to him;
always posts photos of yourself on Instagram stories;
quality time, absolutely, he loves spending time with you;
he is completely versatile, he has no problem letting you take charge sometimes;
he actually loves it when you boss him around;
unexpected trips, gifts, he loves to spoil you;
he likes to leave marks on you, nothing too rude, just something that reminds you of him at random times;
no problem teasing you in public, seeing you blushing and breathless without being able to react is his guilty pleasure;
very much in favor of caresses on the back of the neck or chin;
you can interrupt when he is playing, but only you;
he looks for you at the end of races, before anyone else;
'my dear', 'sweetie', 'bae' are the ways he likes to call you;
he loves it when you sit on his lap voluntarily;
he loves your eyes, but he doesn't deny that your breasts are his favorite part;
he sleeps with his hand on his chest, always;
"Five minutes, I just need five minutes with you, sweetie."
he likes to keep things low-key, call him low profile if you want;
OSCAR PIASTRI:
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literally the kind of guy who only smiles with his girlfriend;
he is the good guy, he buys you flowers, drops you off at home, sends you letters, buys you chocolates;
the guy your parents would like you to marry;
the guy who always makes you cum before him (multiple times);
makes a point of leaving a discreet reference to you on the helmets;
buy food and things that remind you of your country;
as much as he love to see you speaking your native language, he feel embarrassed to ask you to speak;
he always does what you want because he knows you will do what he wants in bed;
words of affirmation, but always by letter or text message;
he has a sweet face, angelic even, but he's the kind of guy who takes you to the limit, makes you cum multiple times, leaves you overstimulated;
take him to see your country, he will love seeing the place where you grew up;
a little basic? Yes, he just calls you 'love' or 'angel' and you love it;
He will make a point of participating in your hobbies or reading your favorite books so he can talk to you;
he is a fan of soap operas, he watches them all with you;
he listens to his favorite playlists;
he loves your hands, his hand is always intertwined with yours;
but he also loves your legs, he wastes a lot of minutes of his life looking at them when you wear skirts, shorts and dresses;
"Can you give me one more, honey? I know you can"
MAX VERSTAPPEN:
he's crazy about you, completely and utterly in love with you;
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that's why he's your number one fan, he follows everything you do, he roots for you and he doesn't try to hide it;
yes, he's jealous and hates other people wanting you, after all you are his;
but he loves it when you wear clothes that flatter you and insists that you wear them, after all anyone who tries something against you will have to fight with him;
He is intense, and he makes sure you know, the kisses, the touches, all his demonstrations towards you carry this intensity;
he loves to do what you want, spoiling you is the least he does;
be a spoiled brat, he will love it;
he will fight anyone for you;
he loves the fact that you are Latina, he loves it when you speak to him in Spanish or Portuguese;
he loves when you cook for him;
he always gives you tulips, he knows you don't like roses;
he doesn't care about the place or who is listening, he will want to fuck you anywhere, as long as they don't see you;
speaking of which, he prefers to see you from above, or any other position that sees your face;
breeding kink? yes. brat behavior? yes!
he loves to dominate you, make you needy and anxious for him;
'mijn liefde', 'mijn engel', 'mijn meisje', he prefers these nicknames to refer to you;
he likes to text you;
or when you wear his clothes;
whatever you want, it's yours;
root for him and you'll have the best night of your life (until he gives you another one)
"Don't be spoiled, dear, I always give you what you want"
gif credits: yuzuchupachups, silverstonesainz-archive, leqclerc, yrsonpurpose, goldsainz, countingstars-17
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.
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845 notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 10 months ago
Note
4k celebration
congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.
i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴
we made up.
LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration
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in which you can never just bite your tongue
eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3
songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey
warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink
2.6k words
you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.
after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.
maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?
it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.
you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.
“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.
“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.
it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.
“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.
“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.
“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.
there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.
-
turns out, you have to apologise.
you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.
so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.
but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.
“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.
“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.
“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.
“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.
“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.
the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.
you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.
“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.
“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.
your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.
“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.
“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.
“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.
truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.
as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.
“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.
“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.
“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.
“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.
“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.
an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.
“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.
his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.
once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.
“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.
“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.
“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.
“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”
“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.
he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.
“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.
lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.
“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.
“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.
“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”
with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.
“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.
sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.
“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.
“learned your lesson?”
“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.
you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.
still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.
“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.
“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.
you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.
“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.
you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.
“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.
“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.
he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.
“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”
you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.
“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.
“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.
those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.
“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.
you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.
you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.
-
two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.
when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.
“we made up.”
-
oof
-
taglist
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no-144444 · 3 months ago
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stoic much? -o.piastri
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Day 21 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist
summary: oscar might be too good at the whole 'keeping a secret' thing. like, really good.
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Meeting his fellow drivers’ families was always something that Charles had enjoyed. He liked to see how his competition grew up, how they treated their parents, how they treated their siblings.
He was more than interested to meet his ‘sons’ family, and at the Monaco GP.
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“What time are they coming in?” Logan asked Oscar, the three of them walking the track with their engineers.
“A bit later. They landed like 2 hours ago but Ellie needed a nap,” Oscar explained.
“Have you met them already?” Charles asked Logan.
Logan smiled. “Oh yeah, they’re the best.”
Oscar chuckled. “And mom is coming in tomorrow with Hattie,”
Little did the three of them know, you were walking behind them with Ellie’s hand in yours, ready to sneak up on them. Logan, having a sneaking suspicion that someone important was behind them, glanced back and made eye contact. His grin widened and he stopped in his tracks, turning around and scooping Ellie up and into his arms. He covered her face in kisses as she giggled, him tickling her.
Oscar rushed to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours. “Hey baby,” he smiled. You two hadn’t seen each other in a matter of weeks, both of you too busy with your jobs. You, being one the highest paid lawyers in Monaco, him being an F1 driver.
“Log, calm with Ellie, she just got up!” you called after them, despite Logan already starting to run with her on his back. “She’ll be wired for the whole day!”
“Got it!” he called back, but he didn’t slow down. It didn’t bother you.
“Logan! Bring me back my daughter please?!” Oscar laughed and Logan obliged. As they got closer Logan placed Ellie down and she ran into her dad’s arms, who lifted her up and smiled as bright as he did the day she was born.
“Daddy!” she cheered, holding onto a strand of his hair. “Can we race?” she asked.
You chuckled. “Dad has to talk to Tom about the track first, then we can go race him, Uncle Log, Uncle Zhou, and Uncle Lan, yeah?”
“God, she’s going to be a racer one day,” Logan chuckled.
Oscar shook his head. “Don’t say that.”
You chuckled. “At least now you know how your mom feels.”
He shot you a particularly nasty side-eye after that, but kissed you all the same.
“What the fuck?” Charles stood there stunned. Oscar chuckled, covering Ellie’s ears as she snuggled into her dads neck, completely uninterested in the world around her.
“This is Y/n, my wife,” Oscar introduced.
“Hi Charles, nice to see you again,” you smiled, pulling him in for a hug.
“You two know each other?” Logan asked.
“She’s my lawyer,” Charles explained, stunned. “And you’re married to him?”
You nodded. “4 years and counting.”
“And this is Elizabeth, or ‘Ellie’, our daughter,” Oscar smiled, trying to coax Ellie to wave to Charles. She did, shyly, and his stunned expression broke out into one of joy. Charles loved kids.
“How did I not know this before?” he chuckled.
Oscar shrugged. “No one ever asked.”
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“You have a wife?” Fernando gasped, shocked as everyone else had been that weekend. Charles, ever the gossip, had told Max, who told Checo, who told Carlos, who told Lando (who already knew), who told Alex, who told George, who told Lewis, who told Fernando, who told Lance, who told Esteban, who told Zhou (who already knew), who told Valterri, who told Nico, who told Kevin, who told Yuki, who told Liam, who told Franco.
Oscar nodded. “Yeah I do-”
“You have a kid?!” Alex came up beside them, mouth open. Oscar retrieved his wallet from his trouser pocket and pulled out a polaroid of the three of you at Christmas last year. Decked out in a princess dress, Ellie stood between you and him, both in ‘ugly Christmas t’shirts’. All three of you were smiling like children.
“My wife’s name is Y/n, and my daughter's name is Ellie. Come by Mclaren to meet them,” he offered, then walked ahead to catch up with Lando.
“He’s joking, right?” Alex turned to Fernando.
Fernando chuckled. “You never know with him.”
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He wasn’t kidding. Alex found that out when he finally made the trek over to the McLaren garage and found you, sitting with Logan and Oscar as Lando showed Ellie off to the engineers and other drivers.
“Alex,” he smiled, introducing himself.
“Y/n,” you smiled, shaking his hand.
“I didn’t know you existed,” he chuckled. Pierre, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Fernando, Mark, and Lance were busy playing with Ellie (with both you and Oscar looking at them, you didn’t trust them that much) to pay any attention to you, just how you liked it.
“Not many people did,” you shrugged. “Oscar‘a ashamed of us-“
“Hello? That’s not fair!” Oscar argued, a smile on his lips. “No one asked!”
“We didn’t think we’d have to!” Alex argued back, laughing.
“I wear a wedding ring! I'm wearing my wedding ring!”
“You do wear gloves,” you reminded him.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m done with the two of you.”
“Ellie will just agree with us!” You called after him as he walked over to save his daughter from the eyes of his colleagues.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
fic-tober masterlist
taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi
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satoruhour · 2 years ago
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GO!
a/n: racer jjk men …….. mmgfnghgn..gg.f.. if u can tell i’ve never watched f&f, you would be correct. i only watched tokyo drift for research 😭 also im talking out of my ass by using random car terminology !!!! i don’t even know whether anything i said was possible so just close one eye please :3
warnings: essentially car sex & pet names & unprotected sex for everything, fingering, clit stimulation, praise, public sex, geto listens in on a call, riding, implied p → v penetration, implied creampie / breeding, implied threesome w/ stsg (gojo), clit stimulation, handjob, semi-public sex, p → v penetration, doggy, geto asks and then takes a pic of you, creampie / breeding (geto), praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, pleasure dom nanami, squirting, clit stimulation (nanami), age gap (reader’s early 20s, toji is forty), oral (m receiving) while driving, facefucking, semi-public sex, clit stimulation, daddy kink, implied p → v penetration (toji), n*sfw under the cut
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✶ GOJO
“my, my,” gojo smirks as he looks over to you in his 1999 Nissan Skyline R34 when your hand makes contact with his thigh, “couldn’t wait till we reached there?” on the way to the races that gojo loved to bring you to, it was a silent rule that gojo was one of the people that ruled the underground racing scene in tokyo — that means leaving his opponent sighing at the steering wheel and being the object of your kisses at the end of it.
gojo was talented, but he knew he wouldn’t sit well in the driver’s seat if he didn’t share the victory with you. the racer speeds at any opportunity, but today he takes the time to drive his baby just so he could have more time to fuck her.
sometimes gojo rubs off on you in terms of disposition, because you’ve become fairly good with composing yourself into times of tribulation with your constantly-horny boyfriend. your calmness could be commended, but your breaths still give off your aroused state, his fingers continuing to draw a faint line up your legs which are rubbing and squeezing against each other. even with the aircon on full blast, you still feel undeniably hot.
“so wet…” gojo hums as his hand feels the wet patch that’s pooling in your panties before slipping it to the side, driving unaffected while he keeps his eyes on the road. he’s fucked you so many times already, memorised the feel of your body that it doesn’t take him much to insert his fingers and find that sweet spot. you squeal, hands flying to grab at his forearm. your pussy clenches around his fingers, and it makes him hum, pushing him to adjust his pelvis in his seat. no doubt your cute sounds are affecting him.
“s-satoru! the race?” you panic and hope to distract his attention elsewhere, but gojo’s a master at multitasking.
“what’re you talking about? we’re on the way, princess.” he’s right, taking you through the familiar streets of shinjuku before switching to a lane that takes the car into an underground tunnel. it’s a route you can remember, but you hardly give a shit currently where you can feel your juices pool below you.
“sato—” you whine, your squeezing thighs doing nothing to deter him, “your s-seat’s getting soaked.”
“s’fine, i’ll clean it up later,” gojo grins, sparing you a quick glance where he likes you the most: lips parted with moans escaping, knuckles white from clutching onto the seat and your pussy leaking your juices all over his palm. “c’mon, you’re a good girl, aren’t you? don’t you want to cum?” gojo knows all of your habits, so he taunts you, teases you by slowing down his fingers just a little and plays with your clit. a ringtone doesn’t distract him, easily accepting the call from his phone on the dashboard.
there’s a soft on the way? from the caller, seemingly whispering into the phone like he was hiding from something and you’re struggling to keep from moaning too loud by keeping a hand to your mouth. you’re hyperfocused on your boyfriend’s fingers that you don’t exactly hear what they’re talking about, but you do faintly make it out to be geto on the other end. you’re so close that you might’ve left bruises on gojo’s forearm.
“satoru, you might wanna camp out in a nearby parking lot before comin’ over. officers are patrolling around the starting line.” it wasn’t weird for races to be pushed back, by engines malfunctioning, by police officers doing their nightly patrol but while the black-haired racer is just a little agitated at the delay, you’re surprised to see your boyfriend sporting a shit-eating smile.
“good, that just means i have more time,” gojo pauses to groan when you start to clench around his fingers. he knows you’re close and you want to fucking kill him when he easily reaches the spot that has you seeing stars, all the while having his best friend on the line, “to fuck my lovely girlfriend.”
“oh f-fuck… satoru! ’m cumming mmf…!” you don’t bother holding back on your mewls and whimpers, then, not exactly caring if geto hears cause he’s shared you with him before. gojo fingers you through your orgasm, your pupils blown wide and jaw dropping as you seek refuge in the hot pink seats gojo got for you while you continue to cry out his name.
within minutes, he’s pulling into an abandoned parking lot and swerving the car into a secluded spot before making use of the modification he made to his Skyline, reclining his driver’s seat (courtesy of your suggestion and he was driving off to the mechanic the next day) and beckoning you over with a smile.
you could only return his sly smile as he removes his pants, cock already hard and weeping from its tip from all the teasing he’s done to you, hard from knowing he’s the only one to get you moaning like a bitch in heat. and when you sink down easily, it’s like heaven on earth, the adrenaline giving the both of you a high.
it’s no surprise when gojo easily wins the race later, receiving you with open arms and a sloppy kiss, all while his cum’s leaking from your panties and your cunt still feels a little empty — so when you both receive a message from geto asking for a late-night drive with just the three of you, you’re quick to leave the scene to get stuffed full again.
✶ GETO
“suguru!” you smile as you enter the garage that’s housed suguru’s cars since he was a high school student, the familiar gold and black accents spread throughout the large space. he was lucky to have a father who’s a manufacturer, and despite the many engines and parts he’s gone through, it was a wonder his dad hasn’t exactly uncovered his rising fame in the tokyo racing scene, even if he comes home with some cuts and a roughed up car to match.
“hey princess,” he calls out, still focused on the minute parts of the 13B-REW engine and switching out his outdated intercooler for the Blitz, something that he had to persuade his father with with good grades and exemplary behaviour in his after school activities. “just making some changes to the Mazda. how’s my baby doin’— oh wow.”
your immediate reaction is to grin at him, heat blooming throughout your face as you descend the steps to where his vehicles were, sporting a cute little miniskirt and knee high boots. it’s not that you haven’t dressed like this before, but every time you do, it manages to make his breath hitch. that’s not the main attractive point today, though, eyes dropping to the fat of your thigh where a new tattoo had found its home — a black widow weaving chinese knots and it looks so damn good on you that your boyfriend wastes no time in removing the hood strut and slamming the hood close.
you don’t usually sit on his 1997 Veilside Mazda RX-7 much, but geto is determined to change that when you’re propped up like a doll on the sleek black design of the car, wandering hands slipping under your skirt as you’re humming into the deepening kiss. the other groans against your lips when he finds your clit, rubbing languid circles into it and you spread your legs further to accommodate his fingers, exposing your neck for his lips to suck on while his free hand gets busy with your perky tits.
“you’re so… fuckin’ wet,” geto mumbles into your neck, stifling your moans with yet another kiss. the way he’s rubbing at your bundle of nerves is so distinct, you couldn’t even replicate it if you tried, usually left dissatisfied after cumming on your own fingers. “my pretty angel.”
“yeah? you like me on your Mazda?” you say with a lilt to your voice, and although the pet names bring another wave of shyness and fire to your cheeks, your hands speak otherwise as they trail down his torso to the trousers he’s got on. it’s you against him to see who makes the other break first — geto moans when you fish out his dick, already semi-hard from all the teasing and your hand’s warm like how your pussy usually feels, stroking him in a pace that matches the hand on your clit.
“fucking love you on it,” geto laughs breathlessly, hot breath fanning against your lips and hips bucking into your palm, “love your hands on my cock, too.”
“ditto, baby,” you reply in a breathy whimper, but geto mutters something else along the lines of too bad i need my cock in you now before a surprised yelp leaves you when you’re flipped over suddenly. with hands flat on the hood and a knee propped up, he’s careful not to bring any discomfort to your new tattoo. bit by bit, he’s sheathing himself into your dripping cunt, pleas and obscenities flooding the spacious garage as you beg him to move.
your boyfriend’s a racer, ’course he knows how to do that, but he takes pride in teasing you, letting you feel every last bit of his dick as he bottoms out. “suguru… fuck me, please.”
“planning on it — shit, you’re so tight — let me enjoy your cute lil pussy for a bit, princess.” geto has both hands move down the expanse of your back, appreciating your attractive arch, and then then down to your ass and folds where he’s filling you with his fat cock. and when he starts to move, your mewls become incomprehensible and your fingers grasp at anything, but you’re afraid of scratching the smooth finishing of his Mazda, settling for holding onto his forearms.
“suguruuu… oh my g-god!” you love the way your obscene noises fill the space, juices flowing freely down your thighs as the other finds a steady pace. “right there— f-fuck…”
geto is no different, hypnotised with how his length disappears into your heat that he doesn’t notice your twitching body, but he still knows you’re close by how your clamp around him like a vice, pussy tightening up to make sure he gives you all his cum. by this time, you’re delirious from the squelching noises of your cunt and the slap of his hips into yours that your orgasm comes unexpectedly.
“cumming, cumming, suguru—!” your thighs shake and shiver through the euphoric feeling, still riding the wave of the orgasm before geto wraps his arms tight around your middle, mumbling confessions into your ears until he’s spilling deep into you, too. geto cums so much, and you moan at the feeling of being filled up, body slumping forward. between geto’s help and an aching question, you’re content to lay on the stunning car as he snaps a photo of you before cleaning you up.
it’s not until later when you’re at getting pounded again by him when you see his phone screen light up — the screensaver photo being the one of you on his car with legs pried open and cum spilling out your pretty pussy — that you know you’ve got geto wrapped around your finger.
✶ NANAMI
“mr. nanami?” your father calls out in the deserted shop, empty apart from the clang of metal against metal and the late night radio droning on about some love story sent in by a listener. despite how it’s almost 11 at night, your father was always happy to help with people’s cars due to a love for them since he was young.
even if that someone’s car was a 1968 Dodge Charger with a LS3 engine that he only knew the US had. when he comes around the back, he merely rubs his fingers together.
“this guy’s got money money,” you burst out laughing, landing a hit on your dad’s shoulder at his comment, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. looking out from the supply room, the man standing near the entrance of the shop looked exactly like the part: rich, tall, blonde, hot, and donning an annoyed look as he scolds someone named gojo who’s on the other line.
there’s a firm expression set into his features before he lunges forward at the sound of his surname and his pondering expression melts away to make way for a smile, and you swear you feel your knees buckle. but you have no time for daydreaming, also emerging from the room to collect money and complete the transaction like you usually do with clients.
“my daughter here will take your payment,” the older man nods his head toward you after explaining the changes he made to the engine, specifically the crankshaft which contained newer journals with older webs — this particular combination made the oil system faulty and rigid, and even for a tamer temper like nanami’s, it still irritated him to no end when the Dodge Charger wouldn’t start properly.
this would’ve been a piece of cake to solve, though, if it wasn’t for your dad’s japan-only parts, which function minutely different to american engines. so your dad had promised another day to fix nanami’s car after the parts had arrived, even refusing to accept nanami’s apologies and offers to pay for the america-based engine the first time he came to you guys.
it’s like the initial demeanour had faded, bowing profusely at the kind-hearted nature of your dad and he waves it off, passing it off as a passion that still burned strong within him; he only wrote a receipt for the repair of the engine, after all.
“collect the nice man’s payment and close up shop, okay?” your father places a kiss to your template and bids farewell to nanami as well who’s feeling still a little flustered, “i’ll head off to bed first.”
“thank you, truly,” nanami bowed again to you as he felt around for his card, producing a black card for you to process the transaction.
“it’s nothin’. dad’s usually like that, always so generous with his services and then blames it on his passion,” you laugh a little and nanami does too.
“i understand, tell him thank you again.”
you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, handing him back his card with clammy palms and fidgety fingers. you both know you’re not exactly ready to say goodbye to this fine-ass man so you strike up conversation with a terribly stupid opener.
“so… you drive?”
“i would think so,” nanami chuckles as he makes his way over to his Dodge Charger, loving the way you almost want to dig yourself a hole from what you asked, “i race. actually.”
and you swear you can hear the pulse in your pussy quicken, swallowing a lump in your throat at the vision of being spread out on the hood of nanami’s car, blonde head of hair hidden between your legs.
you just didn’t know that vision would come true today; well — tomorrow, since one question led to a conversation past twelve, led to advances from the both of you and now you’re moaning out nanami’s name as your sensitive core is being devoured by the racer, kneeling at the front of his own car like the hood of his car is your throne.
you voice your concerns about being ate out so shamelessly with the garage door open, voice breaking as he eats and laps at your dripping cunt like a starved man, sucking hard on your clit as he plays with your hole, teasing his thick fingers around your entrance just enough for it to clench around nothing.
“it’s past 12, don’t worry your pretty little head about someone watching,” he reassures you, palms spread out against your stomach. “plus, you taste divine,” nanami groans from your core before he plunges a finger into you, causing you to jerk in shock at the intrusion — it’s so good you forget about your worries. “so tight too, shit.”
“nanami…” you drag out the last bits of his name in a whine, hips bucking up to take in more of his needy tongue and his replied hum sends vibrations throughout your body. you’re so wet that you’re able to take another finger. “just like that. oh my god, your t-tongue.” your hand naturally pulls at his blonde locks, pushing him deeper into your centre; he likes it, squeezing your ass in the process.
“can i cum, nanami?” you plead for it, the unexpected obedience has nanami reeling and he gives you the green light.
“’course you can, such a good girl, aren’t you?” the shop is filled with your moans and the dirty, sopping sounds of your pussy as he flicks his tongue, memorising the way your thighs clench around his head and how sweet you smell and taste. he’s definitely not letting this pussy go, “good girls get to cum.”
“i’m gonna— ooh shiitt…” nanami lets your hips go on their own accord and another groan from the racer is enough to have you cumming on his fingers and tongue, “fuuck, i’m cumming-!” he praises you like you’re his royalty while you gush all over him, squirting your release all over his face as he happily downs your juices like he’s done it before. he’s sure to do it again in the future.
“attagirl,” both the metal of his car and his affectionate names for you sends tremors throughout your body and legs, orgasming so hard you see white and it’s clear he enjoys giving head like his life depended on it.
you catch your breath briefly, brushing your fingers through his hair and admiring the sight before you until he returns to his intimidating and looming height, helping you to sit up and patting your thigh affectionately
“hope that’s enough payment for the parts. or would you prefer instalments instead?” he says the cheesy line with such a calm face you’d think he was in a business meeting, but the stoicism makes you stifle a giggle.
it’s not long before you’re returning your dad the money nanami had insisted on, but more importantly, being all dolled up in the passenger seat, his teasing hand on your thigh and a full pretty lace set underneath your miniskirt.
✶ TOJI
it’s not uncommon to find a veteran on the racing scene. fushiguro toji had his time of fame in the 80s, but now he’s back for more after fathering a whole child — something his close friends back then didn’t think he could do. it was an endearing sight, a large, burly man carrying something as precious as megumi but it didn’t halt his drifting trips on the mountains, taking his 1966 Chevrolet Corvette for a ride every time he needed to clear his mind; on a less safer note, megumi as a toddler was sometimes in the passenger seat.
megumi was already set to follow in his footsteps the moment he was born, showing a keen interest in cars more than robots or barbies (toji did buy one when megumi reached for a doll dressed in all black, though) and that only increased when he accompanied his dad on his drift trips, many times imagining himself in front of the wheel, gliding through the corners easily. even if the corvettes in the 60s weren’t exactly drifting material, he learned to do it perfect. plus, it still held memories for toji.
“who’s that?” your friend could hardly stop her jaw from hitting the floor after her comment, clearly a little flustered at seeing a forty year old stroll through the underground car parks like he owned the place. he did, 20 years ago, but his name seems to still precede him when hushed whispers and murmurs follow him. although he’s here to support his son’s first drifting race, he’s still fairly popular to be getting enquiries from curious mechanics and avid car enjoyers.
“megumi’s dad,” you grin with a hidden sense of satisfaction, because you didn’t just know him from afar. how his hips swayed when he walked or how he loved that stupid compression shirt, that was everyone’s perception of him, but you knew how his hips felt as it grinded against you. you always never fail to recall the raspiness of his voice against your ears as he mumbled the dirtiest things, only for you to hear. it’s why you revel in the way your friend’s jaw drop past the concrete into hell when the older man catches your eye (he always liked to look for you in crowds), and winks, prompting the gossip to only increase in volume.
“you’re in cahoots with megumi’s dad?” you didn’t care much if people suspected something going on between the two of you. even megumi didn’t exactly care, who was a few years younger than you in his last year of high school. he was content enough that his dad wasn’t alone after giving so much of him to raise megumi. anyway, you always had his trust fund to rely on and if anyone fucked you as good at toji did, you wouldn’t give two shits either way.
“hey doll,” toji’s grin matches yours, planting a sloppy kiss to your temple as you both wait at his Corvette, all roughed up from the race the day before. he hasn’t had time to fix it up, driving the familiar route to the mechanics before you sent him a text about how megumi’s got challenged to a race by some newbie at school �� it was laughable so much so that it even prompted toji to use those emojis he hated so much.
it was a race worth seeing, especially if one of the contestants was the tokyo drifting king’s son. toji doesn’t need to say much, waving off megumi with a salute before the countdown begins like clockwork. the increasing revs of their engines draw you from your stupor, the newbie looking wrongfully excited despite the failure that’ll befall him in a few minutes. once go is signalled, they take off, giggling at you feel toji’s arm curl around your waist.
“he’ll win,” he’s as nonchalant as they come, but it rings true when he’s the one who had megumi going 15 rounds ’round the docks and mountains every week. with screeching tires, a RB26DETT engine and years of drifting lessons to back him up, megumi finishes the race first. he rolls his eyes when his friends and fans crowd his car like moths to a flame, but he can’t help shoot a wave to his father who smiles genuinely. it was unspoken that megumi was silently thanking him inside, before he drives off to celebrate the easy win.
“c’mon, baby. we’ve had our share. say goodbye like a good girl,” you pull your friend into a side hug who’s still barely able to wrap her head around the two of you, but she’s able to muster a brief goodbye before the rev of his Corvette draws eyes once again, speeding off into the night. it’s clear toji’s on a high from watching his son race and win, seeing it in the way he goes full throttle past shibuya square and down inokashira street with a laugh.
the fire in his eyes, the coy grin he’s got on reminds you of times you’ve experienced the feeling of toji deep in you, clutching onto the sheets on the tatami mats and face shoved into the pillow as he bullies his fat cock into you. the thoughts have you feeling up his thigh, and he doesn’t notice your wandering, needy hands until they come incredibly close to his cock. he shifts gears before grasping onto your wrist, shooting you a look of warning.
but you do anything but listen, rejoicing in your small victory when you feel the car slow down from his speeding spree so it’s safe for you. palming his bulge, you gasp at how hard he already is and he adjusts his lower half, clearly uncomfortable with his tightening pants.
“let me make you feel good, toji,” you mumble, hands fumbling with his belt and zipper before you pull his dick from his boxers, looking so pretty with its mushroom tip that leaks pre-cum. toji pulls lightly on your hair as a second warning before you’re able to twist your body to lean down, eyes flitting up to look at him in faux apology. “sorry, daddy.”
toji sighs once your mouth descends on his cock, eyebrows furrowed and hand squeezing your nape in pleasure. no matter how many times you get his length in his mouth, the size always catches you off guard and it causes you to choke when the car runs over a speedbump. you have to take a second to cough.
“sorry, babylove,” you wordlessly shake your head as a way to say it’s okay, because toji takes care of you without you needing to ask him; it’s only fair he deserves his own fair share of care too. “but your mouth— shit. feels so fuckin’ good on daddy’s cock.”
you suck in your cheeks and pump the places where your mouth can’t reach, sides already aching from the uncomfortable position but you continue to bob your head. toji’s groans and bucking hips has got you soaking your panties, spit and pre-cum dribbling down the sides of his length and you waste no time to lick a stripe to clean up, settling for circling your tongue around his tip.
toji moans out with a number of profanities and a fist tightly clenched around the steering wheel — your mouth is so soft and warm that he decides that he needs to pull over at a quiet parking lot behind a bar so he can focus on fucking your mouth and imagine it’s your tight pussy he’s plunging into, not that he has to imagine. your lips are still on him when the car halts and you feel more stable than ever, both hands pulling apart his thighs to take him deeper into your mouth.
“cock’s so big,” you babble and ramble like a little slut, slurping up your messy job with the help of your hands. just like your walls, the ridges along your mouth feel lovely and when his tip meets the back of your throat, he throws his head back. “need your cum down my throat…” 
“yeah?” toji breathes out, hands tangling themselves in your hair before tapping your skull, a discussed rule for the two of you: two taps on your head when he wants to facefuck you, and two taps on his thigh if you can’t breathe. “i’ll have ta fuck your little whore mouth first, can daddy do that?”
you nod lazily, steadying yourself on the compartment housing the stick shift before his hips lift off the seat and he starts a pace that even he can’t keep up for long. one look at your cute doe eyes has got him whining and mumbling about how pretty you look right now, clutching on your head so hard that it has his knuckle turning white.
toji’s thighs are flexing and contracting from the movement, but you can point out when he starts to fumble and tremble at the mercy of your mouth. his thrusts are getting sporadic, just like how you’re reaching your limit, too, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “g’nna cum down your throat, baby, ya want that?”
you sound a hum of agreement before toji’s hips still and he shoots his load down your throat, thick blobs of cum that spill from his tip, “that’s it, doll, take it all like a good slut,” and you swallow at least twice to get it all down. you show him a small amount of cum left on your tongue before he brings you up to kiss you harshly, giving your ass a firm smack and then you’re plopping down onto the seat again, wiping the side of your mouth like a good meal well devoured.
the wind is immediately knocked out of you as he brings up the speed with a hand inching towards your core, and you’re so glad he’s switched out his 327 small-block for a 427 V8 engine, the lampposts speeding past you and his fingers playing with your cunt enough to give you an adrenaline high to last throughout the night, cause toji’s far from done with you.
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okay i digress. / pt. 2 here
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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago
Note
Hi bunny!
Can I please have Belgian waffles, angel food cake and on the house ( hopefully that is the correct thing to say) with max or danny or both 🫶
Love all you have written 🫶🫶
bakery menu
want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! it's great to hear what orders you come up with! as for this lovely request from @biancathecool thank you! and yes i can write for the other two drivers you sent in another message (their names escape me as i write this), but yes! hit me with it!! thank you! enjoy!
belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + angel food cake ("if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you.") + on the house: coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen & daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, threesome, maxiel + reader, rivals au, ferrari!reader, cock & pussy drunk, degrading language/dirty talk, mean!max, mean!daniel, rough sex, dom/sub, biting/marking, possessive beheaviour, hate fuck, facials & back shots, cum eating
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sharing was caring, at least in daniel's eyes. he had shared a lot of things over the course of his friendship with max verstappen. there were normal things like food, plane rides, they spent weekends together even. he could even recall a night austin when they both shared the same girl for an evening.
so it only made sense that daniel ricciardo would share his favourite rival. the cute little thing on the ferrari team. lucky number forty-seven.
max was mad by the end of the dutch grand prix. one clip from you, another from leclerc. he was getting pummelled by the prince and princess of ferrari on his home turf. and that left a bitter taste in his mouth as he hit his helmet against the wall once the race was over.
you dressed in your ferrari red, beaming at charles who came in first. ferrari took first and second while the lion of the netherlands barely clung to fifth. as you and charles sprayed champagne on each other and laughed, max could feel the anger in his veins.
and daniel was like the devil in max's ear, "hey max, seem kind of pissed." he placed his hand on max's shoulder, "you know, i'm seeing her after this... in my hotel room. you're free to join us, maybe get some of that anger out." he patted the other man's shoulder.
max's jaw tensed for a moment as he got a full view of you on the podium, laughing and waving. max couldn't very well put you under his boot, but he could make a mess of your pretty insides.
"we have a guest tonight." daniel chuckled as he served you more wine.
you were in the hotel room robe with very little underneath. you were tired of wearing clothes after being in that stuffy uniform all day. you happily accepted the wine and brought the glass to your lips, "guest? you didn't."
daniel chuckled and put the bottle down back on the coffee table, "word won't get out. he's good at keeping secrets." he patted your thigh.
the wine tasted good, expensive in a way that you weren't accustomed to. you had your fair share of grocery store wine, but the more that daniel lured you in with the finer things in life. it was getting harder to go back to your old ways. money couldn't buy taste, but it could buy flavor.
there was a knock on the door and daniel got up. you took sight of his ass in those the sweatpants he wore. there was no use looking formal, you were both here for the same thing.
daniel didn't say who the guest of the evening was. but you almost spilled red wine all over yourself at the sight of max on the other side of the door.
"daniel." you said, "not max."
daniel looked over his shoulder and smiled, "c'mon, princess. i can assure you that he won't hurt you... too much." that gleaming smile of his always seemed to get you into more trouble.
you put the glass down and kept your focus on the two men as max entered the hotel room.
"she looks good." max said as if you weren't in the room with them. you swallowed when he looked at you, "she looks better without the uniform on."
"max..." you said.
"well you know, mate." daniel smiled "i cum in that every night." your arrangement had been going on for some time. it didn't help that you lived in the same building during the off season and he'd often visit you in your driver's room. often to get a taste of that soaked cunt he adored.
your ears went hot as you replied, "danny, what the fuck."
max took a step forward and got his shoes off. he stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans. his eyes gazed with hunger on you. it made you close your robe a little more.
"princess." daniel said as he went back to the couch and pulled you close to him, "i think you own max an apology. you've been fucking with him, toying with him. i see how you look at him, when i mention his name you get wet." his grip on you grew tighter, "it's only right you make amends for your team."
you were soon seated in the middle of the couch between the two men. usually the routine with daniel was that you two would have some wine, indulge in kinky and he'd often cuddle you until you made a hasty escape back to your hotel room before anyone caught on.
but there was a look in daniel's eye that had you worried. it felt like you were between two lions who wanted nothing more than to sink their claws into you. chew you up and devour you whole.
daniel started to undo the robe you wore, while max held you face in a tight grip. you weren't going anywhere fast. daniel's lips were on the back of your neck, in a sensitive spot and max was kissing you deeply
"are you going to be good for us, princess?" daniel asked before he made you keep eye contact with max by holding onto your hair.
you looked into the other's blue eyes and swallowed, "you two are sick."
max raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze looked to daniel, "seems you haven't trained her." he spoke about you like you were a dog, not the second place of this weekend's race.
daniel got a hand around your throat and held onto it tightly, he tilted your head back to look at him. he said in a soft voice, "you're making my look bad. i promised our good friend max here a good night tonight."
you swallowed, you felt something boil in your stomach. like it was all going to boil over soon. you were sandwiched between two men who honestly hated you after the grand prix.
you looked at daniel for a moment before you said, "sorry, sir."
"and you'll be good for our friend tonight? treat him nicely. no teeth, no attitude?"
you nodded like an eager puppy and daniel kissed you on the lips. you were pushed up further against the australian driver as max pressed further into you. further being squished between the two men.
when you stopped kissing daniel, max captured your lips once more. you held onto the back of the couch with one hand as a means of some sort of support.
you were stripped of your robe before daniel made you get off the couch and onto the bed in the other room. you scampered away on shaky legs, basically exposed to both men. you could feel their gazes on you.
"why not the couch?" max asked, it would've been easy for max to fold you in half or toss you over the couch.
daniel chuckled and slapped his friend on the shoulder, "it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed. she's pretty flexible, can fuck her about anywhere. but i'd love for us to have a little more comfort." then got off the couch to join you with the dutch driver close behind.
you knew that if you wanted to keep your underwear in one piece, you had to get them off before the other men came. your kicked off your panties and your bra was on the floor before you sat on top of the bed, one leg over the other.
this all felt so sick, it was almost degrading. their stares and their words pierced through you and left your brain running on carnal desires.
you watched them come in, and you tried to make yourself appear a tad smaller, but daniel's voice made you sit up straight once more.
"show them off, princess."
daniel was on you first, he clothes went flying as he smothered you against him. he weight on top of you kept you pinned down to the hotel room bed.
he kissed you with a fever, only breaking it to get his t-shirt off over his head. you felt the leg of his jeans grind against your soaked sex which made you whimper.
he looked over his shoulder for a moment to say to max, "come on in, the water's fine." before he went back to kissing you with a heated passion.
max was slower to get his clothes off. everything came off slowly as he felt a throb between his legs. watching his friend make you a debauched mess.
daniel was a good friend, letting max have a taste of you. letting him sink his teeth into you. and you were such a good little girl for letting max enact his revenge for your little stunt on the track. maybe that'll teach you.
you were meant to look pretty for ferrari, their logo plastered across your pretty tits, not to get in the way of men like max and daniel.
daniel got away from you and propped himself on the bed beside you. his expression was wild and his cheeks were hot. "c'mon there, maxie! don't be so shy!"
max was in his briefs and you swallowed at you looked at him. even so physically exposed, his gaze remained stern on you. you knew he could crack jokes and be funny. but your (almost) win left something searing inside of him.
you swallowed and with a bit of confidence you crooked your finger at him, "yeah, mad max."
"wouldn't be so mad if you gave me a reason not to be, princess."
you swallowed and tried to bite back, in a last ditch effort to gain some sort of control between these two men, "maybe you should race better."
the corner of max's mouth twitched before he looked at daniel, "i'm taking her throat." before he got onto the bed and got himself up against the headboard, he gave his thigh a pat.
daniel was in your space once more, hand on your hip as he said, "you heard the man, hands and knees, princess."
you got between max's legs, your front pressed against the bed to give you the best chance to suck his cock. your ass was stuck up to give daniel a good angle as well. you were to be used.
you looked up at max, his cock pressed against your cheek. you let out a shuddered breath.
"not much of a princess." he said as he took your hair in his hand. his grip was tight, not enough to rip any of it out. but firm enough to guide you onto his cock.
daniel slapped your ass before he placed those large hands on your hips. he chuckled in response, "more like a whore. i wonder what ferrari would think of this? sandwiched between two other drivers. shame, shame." he rubbed his tip up against your wet slit as you started to suck max off.
max held onto your hair as you got your lips around his cock. he took back anything he said about you not being trained. you sucked cock like an obedient dog.
daniel noticed max's expression and chuckled, "i told you she would be good for you." their gaze's met and he added, "took her about eight months to lose that gag reflex. now she's the cock sucking champ of formula one."
max felt something unfamiliar curl in his stomach, "do you share her often?"
daniel shook his head, "no way. she's isn't some whore i give out at parties. we're friends, max. and she needs to learn a lesson."
max looked down at you and pinched your cheek, "if charles fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you." a threat about your teammate. that you were responsible for the entire team. to not upset the likes of max verstappen.
daniel was lapping this up. he knew that sometimes you could be a bit mouthy in the bedroom, so it was nice to have someone fill that gap. keep you nice and quiet.
you whimpered when daniel stuffed his cock inside of you suddenly and your back arched more which allowed the man to push further into you. you were drooling around max's cock, having it almost choke you.
"always wondered how she got in." max said idly as he ran his fingers through your hair. he kept an eye on how well you choked down his cock, "i know her daddy didn't buy her way in. she wasn't the best in any race she was in." he spoke like you weren't in the room. he pushed his cock deeper, your nose in his trimmed pubic hair, "did you give mister vasseur head, princess?"
you met his gaze like you were going to respond but the driver's cock in your mouth left you unable to form much of a sentence. max liked when you looked at him, below him. less than.
"danny won't pass you around, but i bet every head principal got a taste of you." max said, "i be you started with the best and worked your way down." he gripped onto your hair tighter, "whored yourself out for a good contract."
you whimpered, his demeaning words made you cunt tighten around daniel's cock. you were a good driver! you knew that! you came in second and these two were acting like you has the worst record in modern f1!
daniel smirked as he groped your ass cheek, threatening to bruise the skin with his grasp, "while i would agree with you." he licked his lips, "she had actually never had sex before we started to mess around. it only started because she just got so fuckin' turned on after races. taught her everything i could."
max's expression looked surprise, "oh.." he looked down at you once more, "seems you've been a good girl for daniel. i'm surprised, given that mouth of yours. but i guess you just need something to occupy it."
you whined as you felt daniel's cock deep in you. you were being fucked both ways. the princess of ferrari made a mess of. you held onto max's bare thighs and let out a small whimper as they continued their motions against you.
daniel seduced you early on with that laid back attitude, but the more he unwrapped about you. the more he knew that you were just a little slut waiting to happen. you had been a good girl your entire life and now handed a lot of freedom and piles of cash, you needed someone to reign you in.
thankfully daniel liked to keep his favourite rival on a short leash.
"i think after tonight, she'll be a little more gentle on the track." daniel pushed you further into the bed, which made max's cock hit past where your gag reflex used to be.
you felt raw all over, there were a few stray tears in your eyes. but yet it all excited you. letting these two enact their wrath over your second placement.
"she better be." max replied.
the two of them continued to fuck you and you were subject for wave after wave of pleasure. you felt sore all over. daniel's cock rearranging your guts while max's cock was cutting off proper air circulation.
depraved nonsense.
"prettier when she's quiet." daniel mentioned.
max chuckled in response, his cheeks stained pink, "of course she's greedy enough for two cocks."
daniel was the first to finished, he quickly pulled out and jerked off on your back before he finished all over your skin. covering your lower back in pearly white cum. you groaned at the feeling of it across your back, the mess that was made.
"don't cum until our guest finishes. it's called being polite, princess" he said, his voice hot in your lust ridden head.
you mouth on max was sloppy, the driver made sure that you were taking it all the way to the base. and when he was close to finishing, he pulled out of your mouth and stroked his cock until he made a total mess. letting cum land across your cheeks and up into your hair.
max rested against the headboard and looked at the mess he made. if only he had his phone.
"she's something else. if only she brought that energy to every race." daniel chuckled.
you whimpered and tried not to get cum all over the hotel sheets. the embarrassment of house keeping finding it made you want to die. but you weren't covered in cum for long. soon you were fed the cum all over your face and back by the men who put it all over you.
their fingers shoved in your mouth as you whined. their digits dragged across your teeth and the inside of your cheek. they made sure to get the seed all over your tongue so you'd taste them for the next few hours.
number forty-seven for ferrari was a good driver, but an even better cum slut.
-
you woke up in the morning rested against daniel's chest. while that felt familiar and all. there was no way both of his arms were wrapped around your waist like that.
you lifted your head and saw max holding you from behind. the previous night came back to you and you tried to move. but max's arms tightened around you.
"where are you going, princess? we're not done." max's sleepy voice could be heard.
daniel's eyes slightly opened before he pressed your head back to his chest. he held you there for a moment and added, "you're not getting away that easily."
your eyes went wide for a moment. the princess of ferrari had fallen into the jaws of the f1's most ferocious predators. you laid there for a moment, your hand across daniel's chest. you swallowed, there was no where you could hide that daniel and max wouldn't find you.
daniel gripped the back of your head for a moment. he believed in sharing with his good friend max verstappen. didn't matter if it was a slice of pizza, an extra euro for a vending machine, or the princess he had meticulously trained. <3
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