#win's hand going from gripping team's head to the back of his neck???

[usertoxicyaoi]

You know so well. You probably do this a lot? You’re the club president, but you break the rules yourself. I’ve never brought anyone here. Let me ask you something. Our relationship right now ... we’re both benefitting from it, aren’t we? Nobody gets taken advantage of, right? Yes, we are. What if I get bored? Then, we breakup. BETWEEN US (2022) - Episode 2.

[the-flaneur]

After Max’s incredibly hot performance in Brazil today I am dying for a Max X Best friend smut. Where he’s been really mopey after quali about not winning any races and not having a sex. So, she jokes that if he wins the gp she’ll reward him. Just imagine the first thing he does when he gets out the car is kiss her and they celebrate the whole night 🥵

mad max strikes back (mv1)

pairing: max verstappen x bff!reader

summary: max is furious after a terrible qualifying lashing out against the team. however, you propose an enticing deal for the desperately hungry lion...but only if he wins

warnings: friends to lovers and 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. rough sex, public sex (or sex in a public location aka max's driver room), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive!max, lowkey a breeding kink

wc: 4043

a/n: anon i love the way you think ❤️ cause that was an absolute masterclass drive by max, truly indicative of his skill in being able to achieve his three (and hopefully very soon fourth) world championships -> so here's a long one to celebrate ;)

[masterlist] [requests]

max stormed into the red bull garage angrily muttering expletives, slamming down his helmet onto the table with a thud. qualifying could not have gotten any worse. not only had he gone out in q2 from a shitty red flag, he had a grid penalty and lando had also made his way to the top of the timesheet and had qualified first for the race later that day.

he was fucking pissed. 

he felt a hand gripping his shoulder, and he whipped around angrily to yell at whoever it was to leave him the hell alone - he didn’t need to hear the same words from gp or christian, let alone his father, who he knew had been even more angry about the flag. they were all just going to inadvertently rile him up more, something he didn’t want on his mind when the rain would be pouring down like buckets only two hours later.

max softened only slightly when he saw it was you, but his scowl and deepening frown lines were still plastered on his face. "what do you want? i'm not in the mood right now." he growled out, but there wasn't much bite behind his words. his eyes, usually so energised and focused, appeared dull and distant to you, as if the weight of the potential consequences had drained all the energy from his body.

"max, it's okay. i'm here," you said softly, as you stepped closer to stand beside him. hand brushing against his arm, it sent a gentle spark through both of you as you gave max words of comfort and reassurance. your voice was calm and reassuring, a stark contrast to max's earlier tirade. as you spoke, you reached up to gently massage his neck and shoulders, feeling the tension seep out of his muscles under your touch.

the adrenaline of his anger dissipated as your hands touched the sensitive skin of his neck, max leaning into you and letting out a soft sigh as he closed his eyes. you were soothing the knots of frustration that had taken hold of his body. as you continued to knead his tense muscles, max's grip on the edge of the table loosened, and he slowly lowered himself into the chair behind him. his head fell back, exposing the long column of his throat, which you couldn't resist tracing with the tip of your finger. the delicate skin was flushed, likely hoarse from his angry shouts.

"you're always so good at making me relax," max murmured, still evidently mad about the result but slowly physically relaxing.

“don’t let rupert here you say that, he’ll have my head for trying to steal his job,” you chuckled softly, watching max soften under your touch, “perhaps you should invest in a full time masseur if it’s this easy to get you to relax,” you smiled softly, patting his back as you kneeled down in front of him, meeting his lowered gaze.

max shook his head in mock amusement despite his foul mood. he reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheek. the gesture sent a flurry of butterflies through you, making your heart race. max's eyes glinted with an emotion you couldn't quite place - gratitude, affection, something more?

"thank you for being here for me," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "i don't know what i'd do without you sometimes."

in a moment of vulnerability, max leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours. you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the fabric of his racing suit. max's warm breath ghosted across your lips as he leaned in close, his eyes searching yours intensely. you felt like you were drowning in those piercing blue depths, every thought evaporating until all that remained was the thrumming pulse between your bodies.

you loved it.

"if you win today, i promise i'll give you a reward," you teased, pulling away reluctantly as you could hear the commentators announcing the time for the start of the race and the mechanics around you grew alive. max looked momentarily surprised before a slow grin spread across his face, transforming his features from brooding to boyish in an instant.

"oh? and what sort of reward did you have in mind?" he asked, arching an eyebrow suggestively. the atmosphere shifted, the air thickening with unspoken tension. you felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you averted your gaze, suddenly self-conscious under the intensity of his stare.

"well, uh, maybe we could celebrate properly afterwards?" you offered lamely, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt while you glanced down at max’s racing shoes. he chuckled huskily, sending some familiar shivers down your spine.

"I think that can be arranged," he purred, leaning in close again, leaning in close enough for you to feel the heat of his body. his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "and i've got a few ideas for how we could celebrate..."

eyes dark with desire, he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

"but first, i’m going to win,”

watching max throughout the beginning stages of the race was nothing short of a god-given miracle. your eyes were glued to the screen in the garage, watching as the lap count increased, he carved his way all the way from p17 through the rain soaked cars like it was nothing.

he drove like the world champion he was meant to be.

watching as the cars came into the pits for the red flag and with max slotted into p2 behind esteban, you couldn’t help but feel an immense sense of pride for your best friend. he was proving everyone, including himself wrong, and setting himself up for a podium finish, you thought gleefully. 

max had quickly gotten himself out of the car before pacing his way towards his father and helmut, where a rapid exchange of dutch and german was exchanged between them. although, you had not yet approached him from your stool in the garage, he smiled, knowing that you were still watching him.

you could see a hint of a smile on max’s face as he discussed the tyres and track conditions with gp, before he swung around. max strode towards you with a newfound spring in his step, his earlier frustration seemingly forgotten in the thrill of the race. as he drew near, you could see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes, the flush of adrenaline colouring his cheeks. he stopped in front of you, hands on his hips as he caught his breath.

"did you see that?!" he exclaimed,"i mean, yeah, the conditions are crazy, but..." he shook his head in amazement. "i felt like i was flying out there. like the car is performing well, there’s nice balance…."

max reached out to pull you into a tight hug, spinning you around briefly before setting you back on your feet. his arms lingered around your waist, holding you close.

“i really think i can win this now,”

“i know you can. go get them lion,”

as you watched max carve out the final corners of the final lap, the chequered flag starting to be raised gleefully in the background, you couldn’t help but let out a broken sob in the garage, the mechanics around you roaring to life as he crossed the line in first.

your max…coming first…for the first time since spain…it was a dream come true.

standing shellshocked in the garage, you were only shoved out of your state, when gp grabbed your arm pulling you towards his screens, before putting a pair of headphones on your head.

he’s listening, he mouthed, before congratulating max on the radio. you could hear the raw joy in max’s shout as he said his signature catchphrase, before gp gestured for you to say something.

“m-maxie, i’m s-so proud of you. you’ve wo-worked so hard for this…” you managed to get out between tears, furiously trying to hide your tear-stricken face from the broadcast camera, which had panned towards the victorious red bull garage. 

“thank you y/n…” he grinned, hearing your voice on the radio only made the moment more special for him.

and for a moment, you both felt like you were on top of the world.

“i love you,”

the weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you, the confession echoing in your ears. max listened to you closely, gauging your reaction with bated breath. you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the overwhelming swell of emotion threatening to consume you entirely.

"i...i love you too, max," you whispered, barely audible over the cheers and celebrations erupting around you, "so fucking much."

watching max roll the rb20 into parc ferme - your eyes even more red than before, hair plastered against your sweaty face - you pressed yourself up against the barriers with the red bull mechanics and team members, helmut and christian nearby. the clamour in the crowd and in the people surrounding you reached a fever pitch as max raised his fists in the sky; savouring his victory for but a moment, before he ran towards the red bull crowd. he leaped into the waiting arms of his jubilant crew, who slapped his back, clapping and cheering, chanting his name. 

as the team set him back down, max's eyes immediately sought you out in the crowd. pulling you through his celebrating crew, he wrapped you up in a crushing embrace, lifting you off your feet. you melted into his embrace, pouring every ounce of your joy, pride, and adoration into it.

"we did it! we actually fucking did it!" he yelled, his face split in a wide, ecstatic grin. setting you back down, he cupped your face in his gloved hands, thumbs brushing away the happy tears streaking your cheeks. max gazed at you with a look of pure adoration, his eyes shining with triumph and something deeper, more intimate. the roar of the crowd faded into the background as he leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss. the world seemed to tilt on its axis as you clung into him, the taste of his victory mingling with the salt of your tears. his gloves scraped gently against your cheeks as he held your face, angling your head to deepen the kiss.

the crowd's cheers grew distant, replaced by the pounding of your heart and the ragged sound of your breath. max's tongue swept across your lower lip, coaxing it open, and you surrendered willingly, parting your mouth to welcome him inside. his kiss was hungry, devouring; his primal elation coursing through his veins. you clung to him, fingers digging into the fabric of his racing suit as he ravaged your mouth, staking his claim. max's gloved hand slid down to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your sensitive skin as his tongue went deeper, exploring the warmth of your mouth.

just as the kiss threatened to spiral out of control, a throat cleared loudly beside you. you and max sprang apart guiltily, both flushed and breathing hard. christian and helmut stood there with amused expressions, clearly having witnessed the heated display.

just as the kiss threatened to spiral out of control, a throat cleared loudly beside you. you and max sprang apart guiltily, both flushed and breathing hard. christian and helmut stood there with amused expressions, clearly having witnessed the heated display.

"ah, max," christian began, struggling to keep a straight face. "while we're all very pleased about your win, perhaps save the celebratory…activities…for later, hmm?"

helmut snorted. "yes, let's try to maintain a modicum of professionalism, shall we? there will be plenty of time for private celebrations after the press conference."

max cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing at you with a sheepish grin. "right, yes. sorry about that." he stepped back slightly, though his hand found yours and squeezed it reassuringly.

“i’ll see you guys later at the podium,” 

later, as max ascended the podium to accept his winner’s trophy, his gaze scanned the crowd until it landed on you once more. a broad, triumphant smile spread across his face and he blew you a playful kiss, winking at you as the cameras flashed. the crowd erupted in applause again, but max barely registered it, his focus solely on you.

you, his best friend (well hopefully not anymore if he had anything to do about it), was there exuberantly celebrating his first win in what felt like whatever. you had been there since the beginning, but this one felt all the more special

max pushed open the door to his cramped driver's room, a tired but satisfied smile on his face. the media duties had finally died down, leaving him free to celebrate with you in private. you were sitting on the edge of the narrow bed watching him with a smile as he kicked off his racing boots and crossed the room in a few long strides. before you could react, he scooped you up into his arms, pressing you back against the bed.

"thank you, thank you, thank you," he murmured, his voice low and husky with exhaustion. leaning down, he claimed your lips in a deep kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body. he was fierce and demanding - max's lips moving hungrily against yours as if trying to drink in every ounce of your presence. his hands slid under your shirt, skimming over your sides and coming to rest on your stomach, fingertips dipping just beneath the waistband of your pants.

as he broke the kiss, panting softly, he gazed down at you making your heart race. "i want you," he breathed, his voice rough with longing. "right here, right now. reward your race winner.” your breath caught in your throat at the raw hunger in max's eyes. the air between you crackled as he loomed over you, his muscular frame casting a shadow on the small space. his hands continued their exploration, tugging at your shirt with impatient fingers.

you nodded eagerly, a shiver running down your spine at the promise. "yes, please," you whispered, reaching for the hem of his racing suit. "i need you too." with a growl of approval, max helped you strip off his gear, revealing the lean, powerful lines of his body. he shed his underwear next, kicking them aside carelessly as he climbed onto the bed, covering your body with his own.

your fingers tangled in max's short hair as he kissed you fiercely again, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you fully. his weight pressed you into the thin mattress, the creak of metal drowned out by your moans.

max's hands mapped the curves of your body, calloused palms scraping deliciously against sensitive skin as he stripped away your remaining clothes except for your panties. cool air washed over your bare flesh, pebbling your nipples into tight buds. he groaned appreciatively at the sight of you, laid out like an offering beneath him.

"so beautiful," he rasped, ducking his head to put his tongue over one rosy peak. you arched into the touch, fingers tightening reflexively in his hair. he lavished attention on each breast in turn, teeth grazing lightly before soothing the sting with his lips and tongue. as max worshipped your breasts, his hands drifted lower, teasing along the curves of your hips and thighs. you squirmed restlessly, craving more of his touch. he chuckled darkly, a vibration that sent tingles through you.

"not so fast, love," he teased, trailing a fingertip down. before you could protest, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and slowly dragged them down your legs, kissing and nipping a path along the way. the fabric slipped past your ankles, pooling around your feet as he tossed it aside.

now completely bare before him, you felt exposed yet incredibly aroused, your body vibrating with anticipation. max's hungry gaze raked over your body, making you acutely aware of how wet you'd already grown. with a predatory gleam in his eye, max settled between your thighs, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds. you gasped, back arching off the bed as he leaned in to lap at your clit, his tongue bold and insistent.

"mmm, you taste even better than i imagined," he murmured against your sensitive flesh, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through you. his hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he lapped at your arousal, sucking and nibbling until you were writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

max's relentless tongue drove you wild, your climax building with terrifying speed. he seemed to sense your impending release, doubling his efforts to push you over the edge. you keened loudly, fingers threading through his hair as your orgasm crashed over you in waves of ecstasy.

just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, max pulled back, leaving you gasping and trembling. he rose up on his knees, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he reached his dick. "my turn now," he smirked, putting you on your hands and knees, your delectable ass facing him.

with a low growl, max positioned himself behind you, the thick head of his cock nudging insistently at your entrance. he took a moment to savour the feel of your warm, damp heat beckoning him, your muscles fluttering in anticipation.

max tapped the swollen head of his cock against your pussy, the broad tip parting your slick folds with each teasing press. "so ready for me, aren't you?" he purred, his voice dripping with lust. "your pussy is practically begging for my dick." he rubbed the underside of his shaft along your slit, coating himself in your juices before notching the tip inside you. the stretch was painful, but your inner walls clenching greedily around the intrusion.

with a slow, deliberate thrust, max sheathed himself to the hilt, a guttural moan escaping him as your velvety heat enveloped his throbbing length. he paused for a moment, before beginning to move, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back in, setting a relentless pace that left you breathless and pleading for more. max set a brutal rhythm, pounding into you with abandon as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. each savage thrust hit deep, the force of his strokes rattling the tiny room.

"you're mine," he snarled, his breath hot against your ear. "every inch of this sweet cunt belongs to me." his words were punctuated by the lewd slap of flesh on flesh, the sound echoing off the metal walls. your cries of pleasure mingled with the symphony of grunts and slaps as max relentlessly claimed you, his powerful body driving into yours with unrelenting fervour. sweat dripped from his brow, stinging your skin where they touched, but only served to heighten the intensity.

as max's pace quickened, the bed creaked ominously beneath you, the metallic frame straining against the force of his thrusts. he pistoned into you with reckless abandon, his balls slapping against your clit with every savage stroke. the pressure built rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter within you, threatening to unleash a maelstrom of pleasure.

max suddenly withdrew from your spasming channel, leaving you empty and aching. before you could cry out and whine, he flipped you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head with one large hand. his other grasped his rigid cock, stroking it slowly as he loomed over you, a predator poised to strike.

"look at you," he growled, his heated gaze raking over your flushed, panting form. "so desperate for my dick, your cunt still twitching." he tapped the engorged head at your entrance once more, teasing you mercilessly with shallow thrusts that barely penetrated you. "beg for it, little one. tell me how badly you need your best friend's cock inside you again."

max continued his maddening tease, the thick crown of his erection catching on your rim with every torturous glide. your hips bucked instinctively, but he maintained his infuriating control, denying you the fullness you craved. "please..." you whimpered, your voice ragged with need. "max, i need you... please fuck me!" tears of frustration pricked at the corners of your eyes as he kept you balanced on the knife's edge of desperation, your body wound tight.

with a cruel chuckle, max finally relented, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, powerful thrust. a choked cry tore from your throat as he stretched you wide, his girth filling you utterly."that's it, take it all," he grunted, starting to move, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each punishing stroke. "this is what you wanted, isn't it? to be split open on my fat cock, used like the needy slut you are."

max's filthy words only fueled your arousal as he ravaged you, his thick cock plundering your depths with ruthless efficiency. the room filled with the obscene sounds of flesh meeting flesh and your wanton moans - a lewd symphony. his eyes darkened with possessive hunger as he drank in the sight of you splayed out beneath him, impaled on his throbbing cock. "fuck, look at you," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "taking my dick so well, like you were made for it."

he punctuated his words with sharp, deep thrusts, grinding against your cervix with each snap of his hips. "this cunt is mine now, understand? no one else gets to have you like this, not ever again." his grip on your wrists tightened, the bite of his fingers a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure radiating from your core.

"i'm going to ruin you for anyone else," max promised darkly, his rhythm growing erratic as he chased his own release.

max's movements grew frantic, his pelvis slapping against yours with bruising force as he neared his peak. "that's it, take it all," he snarled, his voice strained with impending climax. "milk my cock like the greedy little cumslut you are." with a final, brutal thrust, max buried himself to the hilt, his thick shaft pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside you. rope after rope of hot seed painted your insides, marking you as his in the most primal way possible. through it all, he held your gaze captive, his eyes blazing with feral satisfaction as he claimed you utterly.

max collapsed beside you, both of you panting and sweat-slicked in the aftermath. for a long moment, neither of you spoke, simply basking in the glow of shared pleasure and the intimate connection forged between you.

finally, max rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at you tenderly. he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle in contrast to the roughness of your lovemaking. "i meant what i said, you know," he murmured softly, his eyes searching yours. "about wanting to be with you, really be with you. i don't just mean sexually, though god knows i want that too."

you met max's gaze, seeing the sincerity shining in his eyes. despite the lingering echoes of passion, there was a vulnerability there that stirred something deep within you. "i feel it too," you admitted quietly, reaching up to place your palm against his cheek. "the connection, the... everything. it scares me a little, to be honest."

max's expression softened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a comforting gesture. "it should," he agreed gently. "love, real love, always does. but i promise, i'll be here for you, through all of it - the good, the bad, and everything in between." he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "we'll figure it out together, okay?"

“i love you max,”

max's heart skipped a beat at your confession again, "i love you too, darling," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he poured his feelings into a searing kiss.

in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the depth of your affection. max's lips moved against yours with a tenderness that belied the raw passion of earlier, conveying the complexity of his emotions. as the kiss deepened, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

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[dried-mushroom]

Reunited

Gwayne Hightower x fem! niece! reader

Warnings: team green (Guys I'm a team black girly but the Hightowers are just too fine), uncle-niece incest, getting caught, and PIV sex.

Note: I know in the show Gwayne is meant to be the older brother but for the plot of this, he'll be the younger brother of Alicent (Like he is in the books)

Summary: You were the 2nd eldest child of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, and you and your uncle, Gwanye, always had a connection much like your step-sister and her uncle have. After being sent away from the Red Keep to Oldtown after being caught with you in a compromising situation years ago, Gwayne returns, and you both are finally reunited, and he asks for your hand.

You adored Gwayne, ever since your mother had introduced you to him when you were near the age of ten and five and he was ten and seven. Gwayne quite liked you, and you him. You both spent a concerning amount of time together, he had taught you how to ride a horse and wield a sword and in return, you'd embroider the Hightower sigil into his tunics and read to him late at night, until the early morning, where you'd most likely fell asleep next to him, his gentle hold on you more akin to a lover than an uncle. You remember the day that he was made to leave Kings Landing, a gloomy day at that and you partially blamed yourself, because if you weren't caught with him, in such a situation, he would still be here.

"Perhaps if you win your tourney tomorrow I will let you taint my virtue, uncle."

You had approached him in the training yard, watching him joust his spire, winning effortlessly, smirking at you the whole time. You rolled your eyes in jest as he seemed amused by your presence, he sauntered over to you,

"Good morrow my sweet niece, come to see me practice?"

"Is it really practice if you're just winning, Uncle Mhm?"

You smiled back him, hand reaching up, stroking his bicep through the material of his thin shirt, making his reaction turn from more of a playful gaze to a lustful stare. Gwayne knew you wanted him and gods forbid, he wanted you as desperately. You both knew it was wrong, the late-night visits, the lingering touches, the blatant flirting but you both couldn't resist the temptation. He disregarded his sword, opting to stroke your soft hair instead, staring down at you.

"Well, my princess, how else would I win the tourney then?"

Your eyes lit up and you had an idea, it was completely immoral and wrong but god you wanted him so badly it hurt, you craved to be more than uncle and niece.

"Well, Kepus, perhaps I have a motivator for you to win tomorrow."

Gwayne saw the glint in your eye and he couldn't help but glance down at your cleavage whilst you spoke, making him hard in his breeches when you spoke the next words he almost finished right there and then.

"Perhaps if you win your tourney tomorrow I will let you taint my virtue, uncle."

He smirked at your boldness and leant down to your ear,

"M'lady I sure hope you know what you're implying and what you're getting yourself into."

You smirked back at him, moving your hand to his chest, feeling the warmth beneath your hand.

"Of course, I know what I'm implying and I want you, Uncle. Good luck for tomorrow."

You walked away from him, leaving him breathless, a knowing smile on your face because you knew he was the best knight in Kings Landing, of course, he was going to win.

Moans and grunts were heard throughout Gwayne's chambers, the echo of his hips hitting against your pelvis was so loud, that you weren't surprised you both were caught. Gwayne tucked his head into the crook of your neck, nipping softly at the tender skin while his calloused hands palmed at your plush thighs and your hands raked at his back, your legs resting on Gwayne's shoulders, making his cock bump your cervix with every thrust. You knew he was close, the stuttering of his hips, how tense his muscles were and his hands gripped you like a vice. You began to play with his copper hair, entangling your hand in his soft hair and tugging softly, making him groan against your skin. His lips reached your chest, a hand leaving your thighs to grope at your breasts, his hand playing with your nipple while his mouth encircled the other, nipping softly at your sensitive skin, making you whimper while his hips still rutted into yours, much like an animal in heat.

"Fuck, my sweet niece, you feel like fucking heaven. Gods I won't last long, can I spill in you please?"

"Yes, please Kepus don't stop."

Gwayne loved hearing your mother tongue, you knew high valyrian better than all your siblings and even though he couldn't understand the language it always made him hot under the collar hearing you speak, especially when you read of the Targaryen histories to him late at night, your soft smooth voice was always a comfort to him.

It took only a few more thrusts and Gwyane's hands on your body for you to cum on his cock, squeezing, milking him for all he was worth. Gwyane fell slack against you, body twitching in pleasure as he emptied himself in you. Before you both could utter a word, your mother and grandfather had burst into the door, mouths agape at the scene in front of them, the Queen's own brother fucking his niece, her own daughter on his table in his chambers. You couldn't even defend yourself or Gwayne before Otto grabbed Gwayne by his hair and dragged him out of his chambers, his breeches loose on his hips, as Otto began to lecture him,

"Do you know what you've done? You've just sullied your future Queen. How are we going to marry her to her brother now, any suggestions my son?"

You're face burned as you felt the scornful stare from your own mother, who could see how debauched you looked, dress ripped and bunched up around your thighs, hair messy and a fine sheet of sweat covered you, you just silently prayed to the seven that she could not see Gwayne's spent dripping out of you. You swallowed cautiously and began to speak,

"Mother, I can explain-"

"There is nothing to explain. This didn't happen...I will see to it that the maesters bring moon tea to your chambers. As for my brother, my father and I shall discuss what will happen."

"Please Mother, don't blame Gwayne, it was I who pursued him."

Your mother didn't care to listen to your pleas and that was the last time you saw Gwayne. Not even a morrow later Otto had sent off his son, to Oldtown, not even letting you bid him farewell to the man you secretly wished to marry. You had cried for days on end, opting to stay in your chambers rather than face your family who judged you for your inappropriate behaviour with your uncle (You were a bit taken back considering Rhaenyra faced no consequences for the same acts with Daemon) resulting in you being subjected to cruel rumours, had you gone mad? Were you ill?

It took weeks until you could stand to see the familiar faces of your siblings, mother, father and grandfather without feeling entrapped by shame. They chose to forgive you for your...misguided transgressions (Although you disagreed, as you still longed for Gwayne's heart and yet him being in Oldtown, he longed for yours) and kindly decided to wed Aegon to Helaena instead of you, which were most grateful for, although you did feel sorry for your sweet sister having to deal with a drunken and whoring husband.

It was no longer than three weeks since your father's passing, Aegon's ascension to the throne, Jaehaerys death and funeral, years after your last interaction with Gwayne and the realm was in pure chaos, divided on who should sit the iron throne, your brother or your step-sister? You weren't directly involved in Aegon's actions, merely just there, observing how the cracks were beginning to fester between Aegon, Aemond and your mother. You tried burying your feelings towards Gwayne, knowing there was little to no chance of him returning nonetheless coming back into your arms.

It was a chill morning when you awoke, hearing the commotion from the servants outside. You groan, annoyed about how loud the girls were being outside your door, You looked at them confused when you opened the door, startling them.

"What is this commotion for?"

"Sorry Princess, it's just that Criston Cole is leaving today for the Riverlands and....Gwayne Hightower and his men from Oldtown will be attending with him. Today."

You thought you truly had gone mad when you heard those words come from the servant girl's mouth and without saying anything you shut the door in their faces. You shakily exhaled as anxiety ate at you. You couldn't resist the temptation of seeing Gwayne once more, the feelings that once encompassed you rose to the surface once again. You didn't wish to wait for your handmaidens and made yourself presentable, opting for a dark green dress, low-cut but not low enough to question virtues, and left your chambers.

You left the Red Keep, and entered the courtyard, spotting Criston Cole near his steed, you personally disliked the knight, knowing of his past and how he chose to spend their night with your mother instead of protecting the Queen and her now dead child, you didn't let Alicent know that you knew of her actions that night, preferring to keep it to yourself in case you ever needed leverage. You sighed before walking up to the man,

"Ser Cole, I heard of Gwayne Hightower's return, may I ask of his whereabouts?"

He huffed, seemingly annoyed at the mention of the other knight's name, alas you ignored it and gave him a questioning look. Despite his carelessness, Cole wasn't stupid and knew of your shared history with the older Hightower.

"Ser Gwayne should be at the stables m'lady, although we are set to leave soo-"

Cutting the knight off with a curt, 'Thank you' and you set off to walk to the stables, a good five-minute walk from the courtyard, allowing you to try to calm your nerves before seeing the man who stole your heart all those years ago. You approached the stables, and your breath hitched when you saw Gwayne, alone, tending to his horse, you walked closer before uttering,

"Uncle"

Gwayne's eyes lit up in surprise when he turned and saw you, how beautiful you had grown in the few years spent apart. He sent his house off with the stable boy before focussing his attention on you. He truly had missed you, refusing to be a suitor to any maidens in Oldtown, preferring to wait until he could ask for your hand.

"My sweet niece, oh how the years have made you even more beautiful."

Your mouth was agape when he turned and you saw how handsome he had gotten with age, mid-length copper hair framing his chiselled face, his vest was unbuttoned so you could see how toned he had gotten in Oldtown, tufts of reddish-brown hair littering his pale chest. He chuckled softly, noticing your staring, breaking you out of your stupor,

"Oh, Kepus, I'm so sorry about what happened, It is my fault you were made to lea-"

Gwayne walked towards you, softly stroking your hair with a calloused hand, with a small smile on his face, making you feel like a young girl again.

"My princess, It was my fault just as much as yours and it was years ago, the past no longer matters, although I must say my feelings towards you have not changed no matter the time spent apart."

You felt him grab your waist, pulling you closer, and whispering in your ear,

"Every time I stroked my cock, it was to the thought of you. Gods how I've missed you y/n."

You knew it was wrong but he was so tempting, a forbidden fruit. His touch lingered, his blue eyes staring adoringly into yours.

"Please uncle, how I have missed you so dearly, please tell me you're not leaving again after the Riverlands."

"Oh my sweet girl, I don't plan on it and I don't know if my sister ever told you but before I was made to leave, I asked her for your hand, I offered to take you to Dragonstone and make you my wife, after Targaryen tradition, like you once told me of. Alas, Alicent did not share the same sentiment."

Your eyes widened, he had wanted to wed you? Why wouldn't your mother tell you this? it would have spared you from your endless weeping for days after his departure and spared you from the ruthless rumours from court. You cupped the side of Gwayne's face, soft fingers, stroking his cheek gently, he leaned into your touch.

"Alicent did not mention it at all, all I was told was that you were made to leave after you had already left. Although dare I be so forward and ask, even after all these years, would you still want to wed me? I am a woman grown now and do not need my mother's permission and trust me when I utter these words, I have wanted to marry you since the age of ten and five and I still do."

Gwayne smiled against your hand and pulled you even closer, feeling the warmth of his bare chest against your own, his stubble tickling your face,

"Of course, I still do, my sweet y/n. I give you my word after that Cole's march to the Riverlands and we succeed, I will come back and we may not have Dragonstone but I will wed you, I swear on my life."

You didn't wait for him to continue before pressing your soft lips against his, he eagerly cupped the back of your head, deepening the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, as his tongue poked at your lips, waiting for your permission, which you gave instantly, his tongue searching your mouth, dancing with your own. You suddenly felt his hardness press against your abdomen, throbbing against the material of his breeches. You snaked a hand down his chest to palm at the tightened fabric, making him groan into your mouth. He broke the kiss, admiring how swollen your lips looked under his ministrations.

"M'lady, please I need to take you once again. I have felt no other touch besides my own after you."

"But don't you have to leave soon? Cole sai-"

"Fuck Cole, he can wait, I need you y/n."

Your mouth was agape once again, you were surprised he had not taken a single lover after you, considering how attractive he really was. Alas, you couldn't resist Gwaynes's pleas and unlaced his breeches, pulling his erection, engorged and already leaking precum at your very touch. Gwayne pinned you against the wall of the stable between his hips and the wood, rutting his erection against your soft stomach, chasing any friction. He peppered kisses to your neck, nipping the skin, making you whine pathetically. He lifted your leg to hook it around his waist, pressing his cock against your pussy, which much to his delight, you weren't wearing any underclothes. Gwayne ran his cock through your folds, the tip bumping your clit with every thrust, making you moan and claw at his back.

Gwayne leant his forehead against yours when he entered you, waiting until you were comfortable before beginning to rut into you, setting a brutal pace, making your hands grip his shoulders and both finally got to enjoy each other once again. His hands gripped your hips to pull himself closer and you smiled against his chest knowing that soon you'd be wed to Gwayne, not having to worry about Alicent or even your own brother trying to force you into a marriage with some drunken lord. His hair fell into your face, seeing if he would enjoy it as much as he did when he was younger. You snaked your hand into his hair and pulled lightly, making him grunt against you,

"Fuck, if you keep doing that I'm not going to last."

As a tiny form of revenge, Gwayne moved a hand to rub little circles on your clit, making you whine, chasing your orgasm. As his pace increased, faster and deeper, his hand continued until he felt you clasp your thighs together, cumming on his cock, squeezing him deliciously. He lewdly brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting your wetness, groaning at your sweet taste, ensuring he'd definitely be trying you himself soon enough. You moaned into his ear,

"Please Kepus, Cum for me, I need you to fill me up, I wish to carry your child."

The image of you swollen with his child tipped him over the edge, his body tense as he finished in you, hips stuttering against yours, his forehead pressed against yours as he panted, coming down from his high. You stroked his back, your nerves coming back knowing he would have to leave you soon again. He slowly pulled out of you, making you feel empty without him. He helped you stand up properly and he noticed your frown and tipped your chin towards him with two fingers,

"What's wrong my sweet princess?"

"Promise me you will come back to me. I don't want you to leave again Gwayne."

He smiled down at you, brought you into an embrace and whispered into your hair,

"My love, I will never leave you, and you know what? Fuck Cole, he has enough men for the march to the Riverlands and Harrenhal, he doesn't need me there, surely he can't be that stupid he can't lead a small army."

You laughed, an attractive sound, against his chest.

"You'd be surprised Uncle, but thank you for staying, I have truly missed you."

"My love, I wouldn't leave you again for the world, plus that man is fucking insufferable....and I would much prefer to taste you again."

The end

[nymphomatique]

wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

[uluvjay]

Winner, Winner-L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which Lando wins his first Grand Prix

Warnings?; smut, bathroom sex, quickie?, cursing, unprotected sex(a big no no), p in v, kissing, grinding, alcohol consumption, small mirror sex kink,uhh def some errors so i apologize, a week late bc writers block is a bitch!!, not the best ending.

You could feel your entire body shaking as you watched the screens, nails stuck between your teeth as the laps flew past. Jon stood next to you as you both felt your stomach’s twisting and turning.

When lap 57 hit the rest of the garage started to bounce, their bodies shaking with excitement and joy as your boyfriend turned that last corner.

You couldn’t help the tears and scream of joy that broke through when he crossed the line, cheers and applause filling the air as people jumped into each others arms.

You threw yourself into Jon’s open arms, hugging the older man as you both allowed the tears to freely fall.

“He fucking did it.” The man laughed as you two pulled away.

“He did, I’m so proud.” You smiled, lifting a shaky hand to wipe your tears.

“Go show him! Go, everyone’s heading out.” The man rushed as he pushed you away and you quickly followed behind the mechanics and engineers until you felt someone tug on your wrist.

“Y/n! This way, come on” Zak called pulling you behind him as he and Andrea rushed towards the barricades.

You made it just in time to watch your boyfriend launch himself into his crew, a laugh escaping you as they cheered for him as they held him high in the sky.

You watched on silently as he hugged Zak and Andrea, Lando hugging them tightly as they congratulated him and he thanked them for standing by him for so long.

When Lando’s eyes met yours he couldn’t help himself, quickly pulling away from his team principal he had you in his arms in seconds.

Your arms wrapping around his neck, hands diving into his wet curls while his hands gripped the material of your dress.

“Oh baby I’m so proud of you.” You spoke softly as you dug your head into his neck, one of large hands coming up to pull your head back.

“Are you crying!?” He laughed, his signature giggle filling the small space between you two.

“Yes! Leave me alone, you just won your first race I’m allowed to cry.” You laughed reaching up to wipe the tears.

“Aww baby.” He cooed pressing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.

“I really am proud of you Lan, you worked so hard for this.” You smiled when he pulled away from your lips.

“Thank you baby.” He beamed dipping down to give you a few more kisses before he was being called to the cool down room.

“Go ahead, go do your champagne pop I’ll be right below waiting.” You pushed him.

“I love you!” He called behind him as he jogged off towards the people waiting for him.

You stood happily next to Zak as the boys came out, more tears brimming your eyes as god save the king played through the speakers.

Lando sending a wink your way as his eyes finally found yours, a bright smile on his face as he looked around the crowd below him.

You watched as max and Charles drenched him in champagne, the winner not even getting a chance to do his signature champagne pop before they attacked him.

But the second he was free his bottle smashed against the ground and was soon spraying the crowd, a wide smirk covering his face as he made sure to aim it at you.

Your head shook at his antics, a laugh breaking free as Zak stuck his tongue out for a taste.

Once the celebrations ended you made your way back to his driver’s room to wait, knowing he’d have a small debrief before the team celebration photo.

A little while later he finally stumbled into the room, his body drenched in champagne as he plopped down beside you on the leather couch, his head dipping back to rest against it.

“How you feeling champ?” You giggled running a hand through his sticky hair.

Lando opened an eye to look at you, a wide smile filling his face before he pulled you to rest on his lap.

“A whole lot of things, but right now sticky and hot and like I need three showers.” He laughed, his large hands coming to rest on your thighs.

“You wanna shower here or the hotel?”

“I’ll take a quick one here and a much, much, longer one at the hotel before we go out.” He replied, fully sitting up to look at you now, his fingers reached to fix your tangled necklaces, his thumb running over the golden four charm that hung on one of the three chains.

You smiled lovingly at him, unable to stop yourself as you leaned forward and captured his lips with yours, you hand reaching around the back of his head to pull him impossibly closer.

He groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding under the material of your sundress to grope your skin, his hips slowly beginning to buck up into your heat.

You whimpered as his bulge rubbed against your pulsing clit, moving your body to rest better over his cock as you allowed yourself to start grinding against him.

However your little moment was quickly ruined by the loud sound of his phone ringing, jumping back at the sudden noise you reached for the device on the table beside you.

“Just ignore it, already talked to my mum and dad.” He whined grabbing your hand to pull you back to him, his lips slanting over yours once again.

“Mmm, what if it’s important.” You spoke softly as you pulled alway from him once again.

“Then they’ll leave a message.”

You shook your head at him as he pulled you back in, his large hand tangled in your hair making sure you weren’t getting away again.

That was until the phone began to ring again, the sound once again disrupting Lando’s plans.

“Just answer it.” You laughed pulling back slightly, watching as he groaned dramatically but reached for the phone.

“Oliver what do yo-Oh! Hi Mila.” He quickly changed his tone seeing the face of his sweet niece on the other end.

“What do you say Mila?” You could hear his brother speak from the other end

“Yay lala won!” The young girl babbled.

“Yeah I won darling, thank you so much for calling.” He smiled softly at the girl.

You smiled at the heartwarming interaction, knowing how much he adores his nieces just never having much time to see them.

You slid off his lap, sending him a wink as he looked at you with a questioning look, moving around the room you began to pack up his and your things, leaving out a change of clothes for him after his shower.

“Okay bye bye, talk later love you all.” He spoke softly as he ended the call dropping the phone down he stood up and made his way towards you.

“Don’t even think about it.” You laughed as you saw him reaching for your waist.

“Go shower so we can get out of here, these shoes are killing me and I’d enjoy to change out of this dress as well.”

“Fine.” He groaned, stomping off into the small bathroom for a fast shower.

-

Two hours later you were stood at the sink in the hotel bathroom touching up your hair and makeup as you waited for Lando to finish getting ready for the club.

“Almost ready baby?” He questioned as he stepped up behind you, strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“Mhm just let me put some lip gloss on.” You nodded, leaning over slightly to reach for the small tube.

Lando whined as your movements caused your ass to rub against his still hard member, his hands reaching for the hem of your little dress.

“What time did max say to be there?”

“Nine, why?”

“just asking.” He shrugged, his lip tucked between his teeth as he took a peak at his watch.

It was 8:30, that gave him plenty of time to fuck yoy over this sink.

You gasped as you felt the hem of your dress get pushed up over your ass, the cold air of the ac hitting your exposed skin.

“Lando!” You scolded attempting to pull away from him however that only pushed you closer to the counter.

“What?” He chuckled, large hands palming your plump ass as he teasingly traced the band of your Lacy thong.

“We can’t, we have to go.” You whined feeling the material slide halfway down your thighs and the sound of his belt coming undone.

“It’s my win and my celebration, if I wanna fuck my girlfriend before going out, then I will.” He scoffed as he pushed your legs apart and slid his thick cock inside your awaiting cunt, filling you to the hilt.

“Feel so good baby.” He breathed into your ear, hands gripping your waist tightly.

His slow and measured thrust had your back arching as your cries echoed in the large bathroom, hands gripping onto the marble counter for some sort of leverage.

You gasp as one of his hands slides around your front, the pad of his finger sliding between your spread thighs as he found your clit with ease.

He growls at how wet you are for him, his fingers move in tedious circles as he coaxes even more moans from you, your body leaning on his as the pleasure began to become to much.

“So close.” You whimpered, feeling the heat in your stomach getting stronger and stronger as his thrusts kept up.

He hummed into the skin of you neck as his lips left a trail of wet kisses, sucking softly on the spot behind your ear earning him a purr of pure pleasure.

“Gonna come for me baby? Make a mess on my cock?” He teases, blue eyes finding yours in the large mirror in front of you.

You can see the hunger in his eyes, see the way he’s enjoying watching you fall apart for him, how your face distorts at any touch he places on your body.

“Fuck! Yes, so close Lan.” You cry as his hips speed up, his fingers matching the pace as he fucks you into your release.

A choked cry spills free as you reach your high, lando wrapping an arm tight around your waist in order to keep you up as your knees buckle from the pleasure.

Your moans get higher as he keeps fucking your, hips moving at an unholy pace as he feels his own release rapidly approaching.

“Cum for me.” You slur, a soft whine leaving you as his hands move back to your hips, nails digging into your skin as he comes inside you with a deep grunt.

His head tucked into the crook of your neck as his hips stutter a few more times before completely coming to a stop.

You reach back to play with his curls, his hands slowly moving around your body as he begins to leave chaste kisses to your neck.

Finally pulling away from you he smirks at you in the mirror, both of your cheeks flushed and hot, a post orgasm glimmer in your eyes.

“Just couldn’t wait till later could you champ?” You teased him slightly.

“No, you looked to good baby.” He smirked before placing kisses to your shoulder blade as he pulled out and tucked himself away.

He pulled your panties back up and your dress back down over your ass, giving it a small smack for good measure before turning your body to face him.

“I love you.” He hummed softly.

“I love you too my race winner.” You smiled right back before locking his lips with yours for a short kiss before the ringing of his phone once again ruined another moment.

“Shit it’s max.” He winced before answering the Dutchman’s call.

-

[alnilaem]

rugby player soap fucks you after a win. that’s it. extension from this post of mine

cw for dubcon smut, noncon exhibitionism, and gross johnny + simon

-

“Did ya see that, hen?”

Johnny’s words come out stifled behind his mouthguard. He smiles, and it’s bulky, a little dim-witted in how he darts his tongue out, licking up a wash of blood that sluices down his lip. His eyebrow is split and his nose is bent out of shape, his cheeks all swollen and ruddy. 

He pulls you into a crushing hug, shaking like an ebullient dog that’s unaware of how big it is. His jersey, a royal blue, turns cobalt with his sweat. It sticks to his skin and outlines his chest, peeling off of your shirt when you sheepishly pull away. 

The pitch is glutted with celebrating teammates and their loved ones, but the broadcast camera is raptly focused on you and Johnny. On the grudging hold he has on your waist and the unwieldy trophy he’s just won for his team. 

Johnny grins like it’s a challenge. Like he wants to make the camera turn away. He forestalls the protests on your tongue by sinking into you for a hard kiss, bruising, and almost brutal in its force. It’s like he hasn’t separated himself from the game yet. Like he doesn’t want to compartmentalise you from the barbarous sport he plays. 

The scruff of Johnny’s stubble tickles you as you try pushing him back, try twisting out of his hands. But his fingers, as bandaged and torn as they are, press dimples into your jawbone and keep you in place. Keeps you squirming and shameful beneath the dissonance of celebration. 

He peels away with a kitten lick, pressing a wet smooch to the corner of your mouth. He’s smiling, pulling your jeans against the bulge beneath his spandex-like shorts, chuckling.

“Scored that last try for you, hen,” he pants. Spits out his mouthguard and passes his tongue over his bloodied teeth. “Did’ja see it?”

Johnny stinks of iron musk and sweat. He hands the trophy away and uses both hands to pull you close, clemently kissing your jaw. 

“I did,” you hum. You consciously lilt your voice upwards, telling it to Johnny how he always needs to hear it. “You did so well, Johnny. So good.” 

He whimpers into your neck. Just barely gyroscopes his hips against you. 

“Did it for you,” he slurs. Johnny’s words are all soft, melting on his tongue as if he’s drunk. As if his brain is belated and stuck in the grip of your praise. “Did so good, right? A’practiced so hard.”

You take the bait that Johnny has given you, petting him, because if not, he’ll get ratty and make a scene. You pull back and cup his face, preening under the cornflower blue of his eyes and the puppy-like dip of his lips. You smile. “So good. I’m so proud of you.”

Johnny is half-lidded and dizzy, nodding to himself, swallowing your praise like an empty-headed dog. Impatience and lust are written into him—you can tell by the darkened shade of his eyes and how hard he clutches your hand. 

“Let’s go,” he says, leading you through the stadium entrance, shouldering past fans asking him for autographs and photos. “We’ve time before the team goes for dinner. Nobody’ll be in the change room.”

Your cheeks flare with the implication of Johnny’s words and how purposeful they are. Marked by firm determination, leaving no room for objection. 

He tugs you like a puppy pulling its owner. Excited, working against its leash, your feet struggling to catch up. Johnny pulls you into his team's changing room, slamming the door shut behind you. The sound of you getting pressed against the lockers is thin, tinny, and fleetingly impairs you. When you reorient, Johnny has his skinned knee between your legs and against your pussy. His hand palming his cock through the tight material of his rugby shorts.

“Johnny,” you pant, “what if someone comes in?”

“Let ‘em,” he huffs out a laugh. “What’re they gonna do? Ban me from the league? I just won us a trophy. ’m on top of the fuckin’ world, baby.”

Annoyance cycles in your stomach at his lack of consideration. You try wiggling out and mewling, but the thigh between your legs is an immovable object. Your clothed clit catches on his sinews at every angle, pushing a gasp out of you regardless of how you twist and turn. 

“Haud y’r wheesht,” he barks. A hint of aggression bleeds into Johnny’s words, and that makes you pliant. “We’re just celebratin’, hen, no need ta ruin my win.”

Your eyes are on the door while Johnny shucks down his shorts. It rolls down his thighs and he leaves it at his knees, too eager to toe off his cleats and pull it all the way off. He stands awkwardly now, a little stilted because he can’t stretch his legs all the way, but that doesn’t stop him from bevelling his thigh into you and flexing, grinding into you. 

Johnny peels your shirt—a replica of his jersey—off of you, and kisses you deeply. You can taste the salt and blood crusted against his lips, feel his small smile. 

Johnny spins you around and folds you over the bench. Your knees bruise against the rubber flooring and your chest flattens against the cold wood, your brain reeling in the gross implications of it, whatever Johnny and his friends get up to in this locker room. 

He rips down your jeans, almost popping the buttons off, almost burns your skin with the denim, and settles himself behind you. Johnny grabs a fistful of your ass and spreads you open, swatting your pussy with his other hand.

“Johnny…” you mewl, and he chuckles. Gives you a waggle, slipping his large hand over and thumbing your clit.

“Thought you were feart of bein’ found?” He asks, lowering to his knees and kissing your dewy folds. “Why’re y’being so loud?”

Johnny waits for a second, giving you time to think of a reply, but with the first sound to leave your mouth he’s licking a fat stripe up your pussy, collapsing your words. 

He laughs at himself and it sends vibrations up your spine. Your bones are grinding together, your nerves filaments of live wire under Johnny’s hands that dig divots into your thighs and his mouth that sucks on your clit, tonguing your sticky folds. 

He spits on your cunt, spreads the wad of saliva around with his tongue. He pulls you into his mouth and suckles, moving his wet lips against your dewy ones. 

You stretch your arm back and tug on Johnny’s fleecy mohawk, scratching your fingers against the dew-skinned, shaved parts of his head. He expels a groan against your clit and you mewl, pushing into him, wiggling so his nose buries further, his tongue plunging into you and licking a stroke up your walls. 

You’re quivering now, shaking against the cold bench and Johnny’s hot mouth. A knot of energy crackles in your stomach as he wraps his lips around your clit and slurps.

“Gonna come on my mouth, hen?” Johnny pants, but pulls away before you reply. Punches a whine out of you by spinning you onto your back against the bench, pulling his cock out and giving it a few tugs, his dick so hard it droops with laden weight and a slaver of precum.  

“Or would’ya rather do it on here?” He asks, stroking himself. His balls low-hanging in front of you, the fat head of his cock all ruddy and red and flaring as he pinches it. 

You stare, dull-headed, with your mouth hanging open and a hazy film behind your eyes. Johnny giggles. 

“Cannae think with this in front of ye?” He smears his cockhead on your lips. “Sweet girl. So cute.” 

Johnny winces and pulls away. He swings one leg over the bench, settling himself on top of you. His cock is a heavy mass of muscle between him. Swinging, bobbing in place. Dumb and drooling with precum that drops onto your navel. 

He slips himself between your puffy folds, panting like a dog. Equally as impatient as one, squeezing his cockhead past your first ring of muscle, writing off your small cries of pain. He thinks cupping your cheek offsets the burn—still, Johnny’s cock is so heavy and so big inside you. Spreading you open, stretching you out. Making a home inside your belly. 

You hic his name, and he shushes you with a kiss. Johnny weaves into short, quick thrusts, because pulling himself to the tip means losing most of your warmth, and he can’t have that. He settles on barely rolling his hips, focusing on burying himself deep, folding himself into a frog position if that means fucking you meaner.

“Takin’ so much cock, bonnie,” he moans into your neck. “So good. So good.” 

Johnny’s ears turn pink and his eyes turn glassy. He keeps rocking inside you, his cock filling you out so well, so full, your thighs shaking and damp with slick. He fingers your clit, and in his pace, wild and unfettered, you wrap your legs around his waist like a cobbled together leash that you use to pull him closer.

Johnny grows feral at that. He slaps his balls harder against you, biting your shoulder. Sweat and blood rolls down his cheek and onto your face, augmenting the icy gold of his first place medal. It drags along your chest with each of his thrusts, turning into a ball of liquid fire as your body saturates with sweat. Johnny leans down, his lips slick as he kisses you, the push and pull of his hips ripening into a more jagged, desperate rhythm.

“Gonna fill y’up, hen,” he pants. There’s a strong dissonance that impairs you, echoing within the locker room. Johnny’s degenerate moans and the slap of skin against skin. The pitched sound of the wind being knocked out of you, the sticky sound of your cunt getting spread open on his big cock. 

Something else poises itself on Johnny’s tongue, something impure, but it gets shaved-off as he cuts himself off with a long, flinty moan. Johnny quivers as he comes, and that pushes him deeper as he fills you with his warm ropes.

He presses down on your clit, pushing the rise of your orgasm out of you. Your spine curls off the bench, your nails digging divots into Johnny’s arms, your mouth hanging open and a rough wave of pleasure curling over you and breaking into your skin. Your orgasm is so consuming it burns, eating you whole.  

It chews you up and spits you out. You tremble around Johnny’s softening cock as he peppers kisses down your sternum, and while you reorient, you see an unearthly spot of colour in the corner of your eye. It isn’t composed of matter—it’s big and blurry and hides between two rows of lockers. 

Then, you realise the drapery England flag, the absence of a Scottish one. 

The man who stands in the corner is blonde and huge and has his fat cock out, curling his fist around it, pumping. He’s so quiet, an ambush predator as he just stands there, continuing to beat his dick even after you make eye contact with him. 

He turns to Johnny, grotesquely smiling.

Johnny returns it.

[luvgavii]

mi campeón - (pg6)

summary (and request): sex with gavi after spain won the euros ;)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+

It had been a long night of celebration for the entire Spanish national team after defeating England in the Euros, the team was celebrating hard, with Gavi by their side even if he had to miss playing in the euros because of his injury. Gavi was feeling the mix of adrenaline, excitement and exhaustion that comes with winning such a major tournament.

As the late hours of the night blended into the early morning, Gavi and the team began to make their way back to their hotel, ready to get some well earned sleep, or not.

When he finally reached the hotel room, he couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation as he shut the door behind him and saw her sitting on the edge of bed, waiting for him. Gavi locked the door, his eyes never leaving hers as he stopped in front of her, towering over her as she looked up with her big, innocent eyes. His expression was a mix of exhaustion and desire as he spoke in a low, weary tone.

"Finally alone, nena," he murmured, his hands moving to run through her hair, gently tucking a strand behind her ear.

"How did the celebrations go?" she asked softly, her eyes closing when his fingers touched her hair before looking up at him again.

"Its been a long night, but I've been thinking about you all night long," he said lowly, slowly pushing her onto the bed, climbing on top of her as he leaned in, his lips finding hers in a gentle kiss.

His hand moved to her waist, slipping under her shirt to feel her soft skin, his fingers rubbing circles on the sensitive skin, causing her to whimper against his lips. His body was tired, but his desire for her was stronger than anything, he smiled as she whimpered, his hand moving to caress her thigh that instantly wrapped around his side. He pulled back from the kiss, watching her flushed cheeks.

"Eres tan hermosa, mi chica perfecta," he whispered, watching her eyes soften, the hint of need and desperation still there, "Can I take this off?" he asked softly, his fingers fondling the hem of her shirt, making her nod almost too eagerly.

Gavi smirked at how desperate she looked under him, pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it somewhere on the floor, ready to lean in to kiss her again when he felt her fingers tugging at the hem of his red and yellow jersey. He smirked again, pulling it over his head in one swift movement before diving in to kiss her, his muscles flexing as he held himself up, his arms on either side of her head. His hand moved to roam her body, touching her everywhere he could reach, making her arch her back and push her body against him, his hand gripping her hip and pinning it to the bed.

"You move when I tell you to," he murmured, his lips kissing her jawline, moving to her neck and collarbone, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on her sensitive skin.

She squirmed and whimpered, his wet kisses sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core, her panties dampening more and more with each passing second, "bebé, por favor.." she pleaded, making him smirk against her skin. His hand moved from her hip to her thighs, tracing the hem of her shorts as his mouth moved lower, his tongue running over her hardened nipple, a gasp escaping her parted lips and making her look down at him as their eyes met. His other hand moved to her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin before running over her bottom lip.

"Más," she whispered, making him groan as he kissed the valley between her breast, moving further down her body, settling between her legs as he held her hips down, his lips leaving wet kisses on her stomach, teasing and tasting her soft skin with his tongue.

His fingers ran along the waist band of her shorts, looking up at her flushed expression. She looked down at him between her eyelashes, her cheeks flushed, her lips plump from the intense kissing, and her hair messy against the pillow. The sight was enough to make his pants feel tight against his groin, groaning as he fought so hard to stay in control and not take her then and there. His fingers moved to pull her shorts down, making them slide down her legs and fall somewhere on the floor. Looking at her dampening panties in front of him, his hands spreading her legs further as he stroked her thighs.

"You're so beautiful, mi amor," he hummed, looking up at her as he kissed her thigh, making her moan softly, her hips rocking and making him chuckle.

"Dios, can you stop being such a tease?" she chuckled, though it sounded more desperate than amused. He smirked, leaning forward and licking her through the fabric of her panties.

This action caused her to clench around nothing, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she moaned.

"You like that, nena?" he asked, repeating the action again, tasting her through the thin fabric, his finger tracing the edge of her panties.

She hummed, her hand moving to tangle in his hair, massaging his scalp as he discarded her panties, eyeing her pussy hungrily before leaning forward, his tongue darting out to lick her folds and making her lips escape a moan, her fingers pulling on his hair, only adding to his pleasure as he groaned against her, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through her body. His mouth and tongue continued to lick and tease her, her moans and sounds being music to his ears, he was drunk on her euphoria and he couldn't stop even if he wanted to.

"You taste so good, mi cielo," Gavi murmured, his tongue and mouth licking and sucking on her clit as his finger slid between her folds and inside of her, moving in and out slowly. He looked up at her, their eyes locking as she watched his tongue move against her. He loved seeing her like this. Her pupils dilated, her mouth forming an almost perfect 'o' and her whimpers and moans echoing around the room.

He added another finger, their pace increasing as he continued to pleasure her bundle of nerves, her moans getting more and more high pitched, whispering soft words of praise to him as the knot in her stomach tightened.

"Bebé, I'm so close," she breathed out, her pussy clenching around his fingers. He pulled out his fingers, his tongue moving to her opening, as his thumb drew figures of 8 on her clit. His tongue pushing in and out of her was enough to make her eyes roll back, her thighs trembling and her body spasming as her orgasm washed over her.

Gavi watched her, his tongue slowing down its movements but still licking on her folds, helping her ride out her high. When she was done, he pulled away with a smile, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. He crawled up her body, leaning in to capture her lips between his, his tongue sliding inside her mouth as her chest rose and fell with every deep breath she took, his tongue against her making her taste herself. She moaned into his mouth, his strong hand moving to cup her jawline as he pulled away to look at her.

"Open," he ordered and she obliged instantly, her mouth opening and her tongue sticking out. Gavi leaned in, his mouth hovering just above hers as his lips parted, his tongue pushing his saliva out and making it fall onto her tongue, "good girl," he murmured.

She smiled, her hands on his chest as she pushed him over, making him lay on his back on the bed, straddling him. Gavi smirked, his hands coming up to stroke her thighs, stopping on her waist, her skin soft against the palm of his hands.

"I'm the one supposed to be making you feel good, mi campeón," she chuckled, pushing her hair to the side as she looked down at him.

"Hey, eating you out is your pleasure as much as it is mine," he smiled, his hand moving up to touch her hair, "we might have won a trophy, but you're my actual prize."

His words made her smile, leaning down to kiss him, her hands resting on his chiseled abs as their lips moved together, his hands roaming her body desperately as she pulled away to pull his pants off, needing him too badly to waste any time. Once his remaining clothes hit the floor, their lips crashed together in yet another hungry kiss, making him groan into her mouth and making his muscles flex under her touch.

"Get on your stomach, now," he murmured into her mouth, pushing her lips away from his by holding her jaw. She nodded, laying onto her stomach as he moved behind her, his hands pulling her hips up as he looked down at her glistening pussy, smirking. He could help but run a finger along her pussy before bringing it to his mouth. She watched him over her shoulder, a small moan escaping her lips at the sight.

Gavi stroked his dick a few times, his eyebrows knit together in pleasure as he aligned himself to her, running the tip of his dick between her folds, a groan escaping his lips at the feeling and wet sound. He pushed into her slowly, a whimper mixed with a moan leaving her lips as she felt herself stretch around him.

"Mierda," she mumbled, her face falling into the pillow in pleasure.

He started moving slowly, pushing into her more and more, his hands gripping onto her hips tightly as he praised her.

"You feel so good, nena," he murmured, picking up the pace, the room echoing with the sound of their skin slapping together and her moans.

Her mind was blank, the only thing she could focus on was how his dick seemed to hit every single one of her sweet spots, the way he gripped her hips and pulled her against him as her forehead rested in her hands. He groaned and bit down on his lip as one of his hands moved to her hair, tangling into it and pulling on it gently while his hips moved harder and faster, his dick slamming into her with every move. He felt her clench around him, and the way she moaned his name were enough to let him know she was close, pulling him over the edge with her.

"That's it, let go. Let go for me, nena, let me hear you," he said as he leaned over her, whispering in her ear as she cried out in pleasure, her eyes shut tight while her juices soaked his dick.

He groaned, moving inside of her a few more times before pulling out quickly and finishing.

She plopped down on the bed, breathing heavily as he cleaned her up with a wipe, chuckling at her exhausted state. He got into bed next to her, pulling her close and kissing her temple.

"So, how does it feel to be the Champions of Europe?" she chuckled, looking up at him.

"Feels pretty damn good, nena."

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Kinktober Day 12 🎃

Draco Malfoy x Shower (470 words)

Warnings: || NSFW || MDNI || 18+ Characters || m oral receiving ||

“It’s alright darling! Can’t win ‘em all. You’ll get ‘em next time!”

Draco knew you were just trying to comfort him, but your words provided little relief from the anger he was feeling having lost today’s quidditch match. There was no such thing as failure for a Malfoy, and the loss was certainly going to eat at him all week. 

The two of you separated when you reached the quidditch team quarters, Draco asking you to wait for him just outside while he quickly changed and showered, hoping that a hot shower would help. He let the hot water run down his back as he rested his head against the shower wall, his brain thinking through how he’d explain the loss to his parents when he heard the sound of the shower curtain opening.

He let out a dark chuckle when he turned to find you standing right outside the shower in an equal state of undress as he was. 

“Thought some company would cheer you up. Don’t worry, I made sure we’re alone.” You confirmed as you stepped in to join him, closing the curtain behind you. 

You were immediately pushed against the shower wall, Draco’s hands running across your wet, naked body as his lips latched on to your neck. Your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your noises as he began to suck and bite at your skin. Once you were confident that you had a nice big splotch on your neck from him, you gently pushed Draco off of you, a confused look on his face. It was when you sank down to your knees that the confusion was replaced with excitement. 

You wasted no time taking Draco deep into your mouth, focusing on breathing through your nose as you did so. The running shower made it difficult to hear his soft moans or make eye contact with him, but you knew he was enjoying it from the way his fingers ran through your hair. His grip on your hair tightened as he got closer to orgasm, and you realized he was extremely close when he began to meet the movement of your head with thrusts of his hips. 

Draco came down your throat with a loud groan, which he regretted immediately, remembering how public of a place you were in. You took down every drop of him willingly, giving him a smile when you got back on your feet. 

“I’m sure that doesn’t fully make up for the loss today, but I hope that at least helped somewhat!” you whispered as you both toweled yourselves off, still trying to stay quiet lest anyone happen upon you. 

“Oh, it helped significantly my dear!” Draco smirked as you walked hand in hand back to your dorms, Draco more motivated than ever for the next Quidditch practice.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

After the Finish Line

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After winning the Dutch Grand Prix, Lando Norris is surrounded by the excitement of his family and team, but all he wants is to celebrate privately with his girlfriend

Warnings: Explicit Content, Alcohol Use

Word count: 860

Request are open

______________________________________________________________

The orange sea roared around Lando as he stepped onto the top step of the podium. The Dutch Grand Prix had been nothing short of spectacular, with every turn and maneuver aligning perfectly. As the champagne sprayed and the anthem played, his eyes scanned the jubilant crowd. His family was there, of course, their proud faces beaming up at him, but he was searching for someone else—someone who had his heart in ways no one else did.

Finally, he found you, tucked away in the VIP section, your eyes shining with pride and something else, something deeper. The sight of you sent a surge of warmth through him that had nothing to do with the champagne or the roaring crowd. You had been with him through the highs and lows, every grueling race and every long night. And tonight, he wanted to make sure you knew just how much that meant to him.

As the celebration on the podium wrapped up, and the interviews began, Lando’s mind was already elsewhere. He answered questions with his usual charm, but the anticipation was building. He could feel it humming beneath his skin, a tension that only you could ease.

Once the interviews were over and he finally made his way back to the team, he was greeted by a flurry of hugs, handshakes, and back-slaps. His family and team were ecstatic, and the energy was infectious. But even as he smiled and laughed with them, his eyes kept drifting to you, standing a little apart from the chaos, a knowing smile playing on your lips.

The afterparty was in full swing at the team’s hotel, the music loud and the drinks flowing. Lando had danced with his family, shared drinks with his team, but the pull toward you was undeniable. You had stayed by his side, the two of you sharing secretive smiles and stolen touches whenever no one was looking.

Finally, as the night wore on and the crowd began to thin, Lando leaned close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, his voice low and full of promise.

You didn’t need to be asked twice. With a quick goodbye to his family and a few teammates, the two of you slipped out of the party, making your way back to his suite. The moment the door closed behind you, Lando’s hands were on you, pulling you close as his lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, as if he had been holding back all night and could finally let go. His hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, sliding up your back, pulling you impossibly closer. You could feel the adrenaline still coursing through him, his heart racing beneath your palm as you pressed it against his chest.

“Lando,” you gasped when he pulled back, his eyes dark with desire as they met yours. The intensity of his gaze made your knees weak, and you gripped his shoulders for support.

He didn’t say anything, just scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom. The atmosphere shifted the moment you crossed the threshold, the air thick with anticipation. He set you down gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck as he spoke. “All I wanted was to be alone with you.”

His hands slid under your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck, each touch igniting a fire within you. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

“Tonight was incredible,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need as he lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. “You were incredible.”

“So are you,” he breathed, his lips finding yours again, softer this time, but no less passionate. “You’re everything, you know that?”

His words made your heart swell, but before you could respond, his lips were on you again, stealing your breath away. The night stretched on, filled with soft moans, whispered promises, and the sound of your name on his lips like a prayer.

Lando took his time with you, worshipping every inch of your body as if you were the only thing that mattered. And to him, in that moment, you were. The rest of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of heat and desire.

When the last traces of adrenaline had finally faded, leaving you both breathless and spent, Lando pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face in your hair.

“Thank you for being here,” he whispered, his voice soft, vulnerable in a way that few people ever got to hear. “I wouldn’t want to celebrate this with anyone else.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest as you nestled against him. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you murmured.

[sweetbans29]

Hesitation - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Carrying a lot of baggage, Caitlin's patience shows you there is hope (based on THIS request)

Warnings: Caitlin with kids (yes in my mind this is a warning)

Word Count: 4.7k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Our girl is too cute when it comes to kids...tell me I'm wrong. This is also set in like 2027...

"Mommy! Come on, Mommy!" Carson yells as he is dragging you through a crowd of people trying to get to the front of the crowd. The grip you have on his hand is frightening, you could feel his little hand begin to slip out of yours.

"Baby, slow down," you say in a rush as your heart begins to race. His hand completely leaves yours as you begin to panic.

"Carson!" You yell pushing past people. You can feel your throat closing as more seconds pass without Carson by your side. You mutter 'excuse me' as you continue to make your way up to the railing. When you reach the railing, Carson is nowhere to be seen.

You eyes frantically scan the crowd, looking for you little boy. When your eyes land on his curly hair you feel your whole body ease. You watch as he turns around and looks at to ground as you approach him.

Running up to him and sweeping him into your arms, you finally are able to breath.

"Sweetie, you can't run away like that," you say as his arms come to wrap around his neck. "Are you okay? You scared me baby." You are too caught up in the moment to see who is standing in front of you.

"I'm sorry Mommy," you little boy says. "But look!" Carson yells as he swings and points at someone. You are still too caught up in making sure he is truly okay. The time you were away from him wasn't enough for something to happen but your mind went to the worst case scenario.

"I would have made sure he got back to you," a voice says and your eyes finally meet.

You stand there speechless as the Fever guard looks at you with a soft smile.

"It's Clarky!" Carson yells in excitement. Caitlin smiles at the nickname coming from the little boy.

"I'm Caitlin," she says as she extends a hand. It is extended for an awkward amount of time before your hand meets her. You laugh at the fact that she introduces herself when the whole arena knows exactly who she is. You introduce yourself and then Carson.

Caitlin's only thought is how soft your hands are. She hears her name being called by Lyss as they are about to be called out.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Caitlin. Good luck," you say.

"Go Clarky!" Carson yells, causing Caitlin to give off a goofy grin. As she walks back to the court she can't help but look back where you were standing. She sees you walking back to your seat, making note of where you were heading, and sees Carson waving at her. Caitlin offers the little boy a wave as his head drops to your shoulder.

Caitlin doesn't know why but her heart swells. She turns away smiling once again as she thinks about how Clarky might be her favorite nickname.

The game is the most exciting of the season yet. You watch as Caitlin and Aliyah lead the Fever to another win in Gainbridge. Carson, like every game, having the time of his life. After the team secures the dub, Carson is asking if he can go back down to the railing.

"You already got her autograph baby," you tell him.

"I wanna give Claky a high-five," Carson says. You lean over to him and adjust his glasses that are slightly crooked and smile at him. How could you say no to his cute little face.

"Okay, but you are staying right by my side," you say as you lead Carson down to the railing next to the team's tunnel.

You put Carson right in front of you as your legs box him in against the railing. He sticks his little arm out and you see his hand rotate back and forth as he waits for the team to walk past. You can't help but smile at your boy as the team begins to walk by.

Lexie is the first to give him a high-five, then followed by KLS. One by one the Fever team heads back, Caitlin being one of the last to make her way through the tunnel.

Caitlin is typically one of the first people back to the locker but she took her time on the court greeting people and secretly scanning the crowd. She takes time looking at the section she saw you make your way back to only to come up empty handed.

When she finally decides to give up, she makes her way back when she stops to sign a few more autographs. Rarely looking up as she makes her way down the line. That is until she is met with a little hand and a familiar nickname.

"Clarky!" Carson yells with a smile that could turn anyones bad day into a good one.

"Carson!" Caitlin yells in equal excitement.

"Mommy! Clarky knows me name," Carson says with pure excitement. You look down at him and rustle his hair.

"She does sweetie," you say.

Caitlin turns to her security and whispers something to them and they give her a nod.

"Hey Carson, how would you like to come and meet the Fever team?" Caitlin says and then looks up at you. "But only if Mommy is okay with that."

Hearing Caitlin refer to you as Mommy has more of an affect on you than you ever realized it would. You know it is completely innocent, but you feel your cheeks heat up.

"Mommy, can I? Can I?" Carson is jumping up and down and pulling at the bottom of your shirt.

"And you would be there too, of course," Caitlin says, her eyes meeting yours. You keep the contact for a second - everything else falling away and you know you are in trouble. You slowly nod and before you know it security is leading you through the tunnel.

Carson's hand is in yours as he swings your connected arms in excitement. Caitlin wants to get in on the action but doesn't want to overstep. That is until Carson's free hand comes and grabs Caitlin's, starting to swing the newly connected pair.

Caitlin can't help but smile as she lets Carson swing away. The trio walks into the locker room and Carson's eyes light up.

"Team, we have some visitors," Caitlin says. Lexie is the first to come up and introduce herself. The team come up one by one saying hi and having little conversations with Carson. You watch as Carson is on cloud nine.

While you are watching Carson, Caitlin is watching you. She watches how you smile any time Carson smiles. She watches how you are never more than an arms length from the little guy. She watches as your hands run through his curls and she wonders what it would be like to have such soft hands run through her own hair.

"Okay baby, I think we should let the team get to their meeting. Can you say thank you to everyone?" You tell Carson and he lets out a giant 'thank you'. In the few minutes you have been there, the whole team has fallen in love with Carson and his quirky personality. He balances the quirkiness and sweetness well.

"I'll walk you out," Caitlin says, not wanting your time to be up just yet.

The three of you walk out and she stops right before heading back out to the court.

"Thank you for this, it was not necessary but I know you have made Carson's whole year," you say to Cait. She smiles at the thought.

"Of course, I love getting to do things like this," Caitlin says as she watches Carson look at the basketball the team had signed and given him. "You have a special one there."

You smile at Caitlin's words, a fact you knew since the day he was born.

"I know, don't know what I did to deserve him," you say looking at Carson with so much love in your eyes.

Caitlin takes the moment to look at you, she feels like she could look at you forever. She looks down but doesn't see a ring on your left hand and decides to be bold.

"I'd like to see you again," Caitlin says, eyes now back to yours.

"Well we are season pass holders, so I am sure Carson will be looking to give you another high-five," you say with a little laugh, thinking back to how a high-five led to meeting the whole team.

"I don't mean at a game," Caitlin says, hoping you would take the hint.

You look at her, head tilting a little but then realizing what she was was saying.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"Just think about it," Caitlin says as she hands you a little piece of paper with her number on it. You hesitate but end up taking it.

Before you can say anything, Carson comes running to hug Caitlin's legs.

Caitlin leans down and gives your boy a real hug.

You say your final thank yous and goodbyes before parting ways.

That night, after putting Carson down, you lay in bed looking at the piece of paper. Your phone is next to you but you haven't moved to pick it up. You just stare at the 10 digits. It was a bad idea. Thinking back to your last relationship and the fact that you are no longer thinking just for yourself, decided it was a bad idea. You put the piece of paper on your side table along with your phone and get some much needed sleep.

You can't take Carson to the next few Fever games which you feel bad about but have plans to go to the next one in a few days.

You have the day off and decide to take Carson to the park. You are watching him on the playground when you feel someone come up and take a seat next to you. You give a quick glance then turn your gaze back to Carson. It isn't until a moment after that you realize it is a familiar face.

"Hi there," a smiling Caitlin Clark says.

"Hi," you say with a polite smile.

"You never called," she says, her eyes never leaving yours.

You turn to get eyes on Carson and also to ease the tension Caitlin is so clearly bringing into the conversation.

"You told me to think about it and I did," you say remembering your thoughts.

"And you didn't call," Caitlin says, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Well, even though I didn't call, you got your wish," you say with a little smile. A smile makes its way to Caitlin and she nods.

"I did," Caitlin says. "And I am glad considering you didn't call."

You roll your eyes as you see Carson run over.

"Clarky!" Carson yells as he practically throws himself at Caitlin.

"Hey little man!" Caitlin says matching his energy.

You sit there and watch as Carson tells Cait all about his imaginary world that he build while being at the park. Before you know it, he is running back to the slides and it is you and Caitlin alone again.

"Carson really likes you," you say to Caitlin as Carson waves back to the two of you, knowing he is really just waving at Cait.

"I like him, he is a sweetheart," she says. "How old is he?"

"He's 5," you say looking at your little boy.

"And how long have you and his dad been together?" Caitlin asks boldly. She doesn't know what it is about you but she has now made several bold moves with you.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" You say teasing the girl.

"I would, that's why I asked," she says with a little laugh. You like her laugh.

"Carson's dad and I are not together, haven't been since before Carson made his debut," you say.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says and you shrug.

"What happened?" Caitlin's curiosity getting the better of her.

Before you can answer, Carson is running over telling you he is hungry. Caitlin sees your time coming to an end. She helps as you pack up your stuff.

"It was great seeing you," you tell Caitlin.

"Can Clarky come to lunch with us?" Carson asks. Caitlin gives you a look, waiting to follow your lead.

"Oh Sweetie, I don't think today is a good day," you say and Caitlin hides her disappointment well.

"Next time?" Carson asks.

"Maybe next time baby," you tell him as you ruffle his hair. He nods with a smile.

You look over at Caitlin.

"When do I get to see you again?" Caitlin asks.

"You are a persistent little thing," you say but give the girl props.

"It's all Carson," she says.

"And to think I thought you wanted to see me," you tease.

Caitlin liking the light flirting going on between the two of you, reaches up and brushes a strand of hair that the wind blew across your face. You freeze as she fixes it, then brushes her thumb across your cheek.

"We will be at the game this weekend," you say and Caitlin smiles.

"Another chance for me to ask you out," she says. You shake your head with a little laugh.

"Bye Caitlin," you say as you and Carson make your way home.

"Bye Clarky!" Carson yells with an adorable wave.

"Bye little man!" Caitlin waves back.

"Mommy! Clarky called me lit-tle man," Carson says to you with a giant smile.

Caitlin hears Carson's remark and can't help but watch you until you are out of sight. She makes her way back to her apartment and opens up IG. She heads to her recent search history and clicks on your profile. She scrolls through the photos and clicks on a photo of you and Carson laughing. She looks at how much joy each of you holds and only hopes to be apart of that in the future.

Saturday rolls around and the Fever are back in Gainbridge. You decide to take Carson to the game early to watch the team warm up. You are surprised as each member of the team comes up to give Carson a high-five and say hi to him.

Caitlin comes over and messes up Carson's hair.

"Little man! How would you like to come out onto the court?" Caitlin asks and Carson lights up brighter than a Christmas tree. He nods his head with speed. Caitlin looks at you for approval and you nod. She lifts Carson over the handrail and takes his hand as they jog over to the court.

You watch as Caitlin passes him a ball which he begins to dribble in a circle. She helps him with his form and tells him to pass it to her. Carson throws the ball at Caitlin and she puts it up, draining a three. Carson runs around cheering and you take you phone out to record the moment.

You watch as Caitlin is practically perfect with Carson and it makes you question why you are still hesitant to let Caitlin into your life.

Caitlin brings Carson back over, leaning on the rail after passing Carson back to you. He sit in his seat as you give him an apple sauce.

"That was very sweet," you say.

"You'll have to send me that video," Caitlin says, happy you will finally have a reason to use the number she gave you.

"Okay Clark," you say and she holds her hand up.

"It is Clarky to you," she says with a smile. You return the smile.

"Okay, Clarky," you say. "If you put up 30 points this game, I'll do you one better."

She quirks her eyebrow, intrigued by your proposal.

"Put up 30 and I'll use your number to set up dinner," you say and Caitlin lights up.

"A date?" Caitlin asks with a wide smile on her face.

"Dinner," you clarify, still hesitant but willing.

"Deal, I will take what I can get," she says. You extend your hand to shake on it and Caitlin meets you half way. Her thumb rubbing the soft skin of your hand before letting it go.

Caitlin returns to the court and the game begins. She has 11 in the first quarter and you can see the work she is putting in. You would like to think you played a little part in her dominant start but don't get your hopes up.

Caitlin has her 30 points in the third and you sit in the fact that you are going to be scheduling dinner with the all-star.

The game ends with the Fever win. You don't wait around at the end of the game due to both your hunger and Carson's. Caitlin looks everywhere for the two of you but never finds you - she would be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed.

It is later that evening when Caitlin hears her phone go off.

[Unknown number: Looks like I owe you dinner]

[Clarky: Looks like you do]

[Clarky: What did you have in mind?]

[Carson's Mom: Do you have plans tomorrow?]

[Clarky: I'm all yours]

You send a time and address. When that time rolls around Caitlin is knocking on your door.

She had actually arrived about 15 minutes ago but sat in her car when she realized she would be having dinner at your house. Part of her was glad that you had chosen a private place to have dinner, so private in fact that the typical wave of anxiousness that she felt about leaked media went flying out the window. But the other part of her was nervous, she hasn't dated anyone since her rookie year.

Once the door opens, Caitlin is met with what at first glance seems like no one.

"Clarky!" Carson yells as he immediately hugs her legs.

"Hi," she says with a little laugh and rubs his back.

"You got me flowers???" He says with pure joy. Caitlin looks at the flowers in her hands and nods. As much as she was hoping you would be answering the door, her heart couldn't help but swell at seeing the excitement on Carson's face.

"I did," she says and she hands him the flowers. Carson runs back to what she imagines to be the kitchen yelling 'mommy' several times. Caitlin closes the door and follows.

When Caitlin sees you in the kitchen, she feels like she could fall in love with you.

"Caitlin!" You say with just as much excitement as Carson did when he answered the door.

Yes, Caitlin is indeed falling in love with you.

"Mommy, Clarky got me flowers." Carson says, showing her the bouquet.

"Wow, those are beautiful. I wish someone got me flowers like that," you say. Caitlin holds back her comment of how she chose this specific bouquet because when she saw it, it reminded her of your smile and the joy it brings her.

"Don't worry Mommy, we can share," Carson says as he hands you the bouquet.

"Thank you baby," you say and them in a vase with water.

Caitlin looks around and by the looks of it, there hasn't been much cooking yet.

"So, Caitlin, have you ever made pasta before?" You ask, setting the the vase down on the table.

"I have not, but I have a feeling I am going to tonight," she says playfully.

"You would be correct," you say and hand her an apron.

The three of you spend the night making pasta and enjoying each others company. You show Caitlin how homemade pasta isn't too hard to make and Carson shows her how good he is a kneading the dough. You through a sauce together as Caitlin and Carson watch over the pasta and set the table. Dinner itself was delicious and the three of you sat around the table laughing and talking about all of Carson's favorite things. When it is time for you to put Carson down, he gives Caitlin a big hug and whispers something in her ear. It causes Cait to smile and whisper something back to him before you swoop him up and take him away.

As you are tucking him in, you ask him what he said to Caitlin.

"I told her I wish we could do this forever," Carson days with a tired smile. "I like having Clarky around, she is funny." Carson then rolls over and your rub his back as she drifts to sleep.

As you sit there rubbing Carson's back, you can't help but think about what it would be like if this was the normal. It has been so long since you have done life with someone other than Carson and you were terrified of changing that. Even in your fear, Caitlin has showed you no reason not to trust her but then again so did Carson's dad.

You head back to the kitchen to see Caitlin drying dishes.

"You didn't have to do that," you say taking a stack of plates and putting them away.

"It's a rule of thumb, one person cooks while the other cleans," she says lightly.

"But we all cooked," you say and she shrugs.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Once the dishes are dried and put away, you grab two wine glasses and grab a bottle.

"Care to join me on the porch?" You ask her and she nods with a smile.

"I would love nothing more," she says following you.

The two of you are sitting on the porch siping wine, looking out at the quiet neighborhood you live in.

"I really enjoyed this not date," Caitlin says which earns her a laugh from you.

"I also really enjoyed this not date," you say. The two of you are sitting side by side on your porch swing. Caitlins arm is slightly touching yours but stays at a respectable distance. A comfortable silence sets in again as Caitlin begins to slowly swing the two of you. You lean into her a little which encourages her to bring her arm up, wrapping it around your shoulder as you lean into her more. It's comfortable.

"You scare me," you say breaking the silence.

Caitlin doesn't say anything, but she begins to brush her thumb along your arm.

"Not necessarily you but the idea of you scares me," you say. "Carson's dad left me when he graduated and I was going into my senior year of college. No warning, no explanation, just decided that one day he was done. It was right after I had found out I was pregnant with Carson."

Caitlin squeezes your arm but remains silent, listening to every word you say.

"I decided not to tell him about the pregnancy because I couldn't stand the thought of him only staying because there was a baby involved. He made it clear he was done with me. My parents told me I needed to tell him since he was the father but when I finally mustered up the courage to tell him, he was already dating somebody else. After having Carson, my life changed for the better. I tried dating a little when Carson was a toddler but being a single mom was a big turn off for a lot of people. It was then that I realized I didn't want or need anyone else because it would be me and Carson against the world."

"I have gotten so comfortable with it being just the two of us. I also know how much people cycling in and out of a child's life can affect them. Carson is such a sweet boy that I would do anything and everything I can to make sure he has what he needs. He pushes me to be a better mom and better person. He understands so much and just enjoys life. He is my reason."

"You scare me because Carson is getting comfortable with you. He's getting comfortable with you and it terrifies me because I don't want there to be a day when I have to tell him we won't ever see you again. It is early enough now that he would remember you but not be too attached, but if I do open up our lives and you enter, I am terrified of how that would affect the two of us. Carson has never experienced heartbreak and he shouldn't have to until he is old enough to date for himself."

You shift to look at Caitlin.

"You scare me because of how amazing you are with him. You don't treat him like he's a child but bring lift him up. You scare me because every time I see you with my son I think about what life would be like if that was the normal. You scare me because I have never felt the way I feel with you, you scare me Caitlin."

You are looking in her eyes and she can see the sorrow and love and conflict all swirling in your eyes. Her arm comes down to hold your hand. You look down at her intertwining her fingers with yours.

"Your fears are real and understandable. You aren't just thinking about you and I completely respect that. I am not here to storm into you life and then leave it once I am satisfied. You are not someone I want to be casual with. I don't want a fling. You are someone I want to pursue."

"I know we are just getting to know each other and we are in a fragile state because you are right, you are not just thinking about yourself, you are also thinking about the best little man this world has ever seen. But even in the little time that we have had with one another, I know you are worth pursuing. I don't plan on going anywhere and we will take this as slow as you want."

"Slow is good," you say looking at her in awe. The fear and anxiety you were feeling have has been suffocated by Caitlin's understanding.

"I can do slow," she says.

You look in her eyes and decide to be bold. You remove her hand from yours, taking both of your wine glasses and putting them on the ground. When your eyes meet hers again you bring your hand up to cup her cheek. Leaning in, you kiss her.

Caitlin's hand finds your neck, pulling you in closer to her as your hand falls to her chest. You pull away from her, just long enough to take in her beauty before kissing her again with a little more heat than before. She pulls you onto her, your legs straddling her on the swing.

Her hands massaging your waist as yours find their way to her hair. Cait's fingers slip under the bottom of your shirt touching your warm skin. You pull apart from her, leaving you both breathing heavy.

"I'm sorry," you say as your begin to move off of her but her grip on your hips tightens. She shakes her head no as she pulls you in for a hug. She wraps arms around you as you lean into her. The two of you stay pressed against each other.

When you finally part it is past midnight.

"I had a really great time tonight," Caitlin says.

"I did too," you say with a light smile.

Caitlin pulls you in for a hug and you let her. She kisses the top of your head.

"I know this was a not-date but I was hoping I could take you out on a real date, when you are ready of course," she says and you let out a little laugh.

"I would like that very much," you say and Caitlin smiles. She wants to kiss you again and you can see that in her eyes. You pat her chest and part from her, taking a few steps back. She feels empty without you in her arms.

"Slow Clarky," you say, now standing in the doorframe.

"Llke I said, I can do slow," she says. "But that doesn't mean it won't be hard."

You blow her a kiss and watch her leave. You close your front door and smile.

AN: I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you enjoy reading it! Let me know what you think. And as always, thank your for your love and support 🤍

[mywritersmind]

TAKE IT OFF - LN

summary : based off the pic lando posted for his second win!! female mc who wants lando to break some rules and go far in his drivers room😄

warnings : a bit spicy, nothing too graphic

word count : 484

˚‧｡⋆

I whimper as he kisses my neck, pushing me up against the wall of his drivers room as he’s shirtless and sweaty from the race.

The dutch air served him well, twenty two fucking seconds well. “You’re so hot.” He grips my waist, my McLaren shirt long gone. I’m left in a black lacy bra that Lando is practically salivating over.

“Take it off.” I whisper, pulling him closer with my arms around his neck and my lips on his.

He groans into my mouth, “No.” I drag my hands down his chest.

“Please?” I’m usually the responsible one, but Lando knows what will happen if he’s late to his next interview.

“I won’t be able to stop, love.” his hands move to my ass. I knew we wouldn’t be able to go beyond kissing when I snuck into his driver's room. I’m supposed to be finalizing the McLaren instagram for today but I needed him too bad.

After he sent me that photo to post, I knew it wasn’t just for the fans. “I’m already so wet, Lan…” I beg, bringing his hand down my stomach and into my panties.

“Y/n…” he moans, “I can’t.”

“Rule follower.” I tease as he climbs over me on his small bed.

“Take it back.” He scoffs, the mood dying down.

I shake my head and laugh a bit as he kisses down my stomach, “No.”

“Brat.”

I arch my back as he moves lower, gripping his hair, “You were so hot today.”

I feel his smirk against my skin, “Watching you screaming my name never gets old.” It sounds so dirty. It is dirty. But I was genuinely amazed by his lead, all I could do was scream for him.

“All I wanted to do was get out of that car and come straight to you.” He kisses back up my stomach, his hand back on my hip.

“You’re all important and busy.” I smile, “that’s good.”

“But I wanted you.” He kisses me again.

“You have me.” I hold the back of his neck, kissing him softly as a knock sounds at the door. He doesn’t even flinch. “Lando.” I whisper as he kisses my neck again.

“Lando!” Oscar knocks again, “If you’re asleep I will drag you out of this room!” It’s the most emotion I've ever heard from him, actually.

Lando groans into my neck, sitting up, “Give me a sec, mate.” He rolls his eyes and softly dresses me again, kissing me one last time on my cheek.

“Have fun.” I smile.

He fixes his hair and wipes my lipstick from his face, “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Knowing Lando and his interview schedule, it won’t be soon. As he leaves, I lean over to the small desk and grab my phone.

Opening back up Instagram and posting the final group photo of our team, Lando front and center.

note :

hii! this is my first time posting my writing on here so i hope you like <33

[222col]

second best | part two

★ patrick zweig x reader ★ you're after revenge, wanting to give patrick a taste of his own medicine, the question is, how long will it last? ★ 5.3k ★ 18+ | cw: smut: unprotected sex, choking, spanking ★ an: part one | take a shot every time u see the word thwaccckkkk

"you gonna win for me tomorrow?" patrick mumbles against your skin, his lips against your neck, arms around your waist as his hips buck up into you. you'd made it to the final of the tournament, your first final of a slam, in only your second pro season. biting down on his earlobe, legs wrapped around his waist, groaning into his ear. "yeah? gonna be a good girl and win for me?" he repeats, causing another moan from you. "you're so beautiful when you play, can't wait to watch you." it's as though the only time you and patrick are truly honest with each other is when you're fucking each other, drunk off the sex, too fucked out to play along with any games that exist between you. you can barely form words to respond to patrick, not that you'd need to, he can understand you without them. he mumbles more praise into your ear as he finishes inside you, panting against your skin. "my perfect girl." he whispers, placing open mouth kisses to your shoulder. my perfect girl. you're not even his girl, not really. immediately sliding off him, starting to get dressed as he attempts to pull you back onto the bed with him. "i need to prepare for tomorrow." you mumble, pulling your t-shirt over your head. "why are you being so bitchy these past few days?" he pokes, leaning back on his palms. "you've barely looked at me if i'm not literally inside you." you're biting back your words, holding in your anger that's so close to bubbling over. waiting desperately to chew him out, curse at him, scream every word you can think of at him, but you don't. you simply stand, walk over to the door, and tell him goodbye.

you'd vowed to yourself that your time in new york was the end of your time with patrick, as soon as the us open was over, so were you and him. you'd come to your senses after getting home the night of the quarter finals. you wanted revenge. you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, make him sweat. show him what he was doing to you was wrong, that you deserved better than second best. it might be slightly immoral, but patrick had pushed you past limits you didn't know you had. you knew the easy thing would be just telling his girlfriend, but that was almost too easy. you wanted to see him worked up, wanted to see how far he'd go denying his feelings for you. how long he could go before snapping.

6-3. first set. 5-4. second set. you were one game away from lifting the trophy. one game away from your first grand slam title. 40-15. one more point. thwaccckkkk! the ball bounces onto the other side of the net and straight past your opponent, feeling yourself fall to the ground as the crowd erupts. letting a scream fall from your lips, pulling yourself back up to your feet. patrick's the first you see, stood with your team, wide grin plastered on his face as you walk over to shake your opponents hand. after you collect your trophy, doing all your press junkets, you head into the dressing room. seeing patrick sat there, on the bench waiting for you. "congrats, champ." he sits there smirking at you as you drop your bag to the floor. you walk straight over to him, standing between his legs as he wraps his arms around you. "i'm all sweaty, get off." you mumble, despite his grip only tightening. "no, i love it." he grins, his face pushing into your stomach, kissing the fabric that clings to your skin. "so proud of you." he whispers, inhaling your scent as his hands move down to your ass, underneath your skirt, massaging the flesh through your shorts. his face turns up, looking up to you as you stand before him, ripping your tight top off your body. breathing in deeply, before patrick stands, letting you peel his t-shirt from his body. pushing you up against the wall, his lips attaching to yours. his hands roaming your body, pushing your skort down your legs as you move your feet out from the pool of fabric. "let me look after you, winner." he mumbles into your skin of your neck, undoing his jeans and pushing them down his legs.

it's messy, desperate, the speed in which yours and his underwear are thrown behind you. his big hands lifting you up, laying you down on the bench, his legs either side of it. spitting in his hands, wiping it up and down his length. his hands gripping into your hips, pulling them up to meet him as he pushes himself into you. your back arched at the sensation, choking back moans as he fucks himself into you. his signature smirk across his face, seeing you squirm under his touch. his nails digging into your skin, skin slapping against yours. your already weak body losing more energy, letting patrick take complete control of you. "that's my good girl, let me take care of you." he hums, biting his lip, keeping his groans stuck in his throat. his eyes are glued to you, watching yours roll back into your head as he lifts your hips up even higher. "feel so fucking good baby." he mumbles praise, bringing your legs up to rest against his chest. pressing wet kisses to your ankles. your hands gripping the wooden panels of the bench, head flung back as a loud whimper leaves your mouth. "shush," patrick hums, chuckling almost. "you're gonna get us caught, princess." he leans forward, contorting your body as he moves one of his hands over your mouth. your brows are furrowed, looking up into his eyes as he pounds into you harder. your mouth agape under his calloused hand, his fingers tight on your cheekbones. his grip on your hip moves to bring his hand to your cunt, smirking as he watches you squirm once his thumb starts circling your clit. he loves you like this, a whimpering, sweaty mess under his touch. it's his favourite sight in the world, watching you unravel under him. all his over thoughts disappear the second you're alone with him. he'd live in his state if humanly possible.

your body jolts, writhing under his touch as you fall over the line. moans slipping through his fingers as he works you through your high. his head flinging back, shooting his load into you as he feels you clench around him. "holy fuck." he groans, gripping onto your ankles as he lets his cum drip down from you. both whimpering at the loss of sensation as he pulls out of you, letting your legs drop down to your sides. "jesus, that was fucking insane." he mutters, chuckling slightly. "i know." you smile back, walking over to the shower to clean yourself up as he gets dressed. walking back out in a new skort and matching top, zipping up your jacket as you pick up your bags. "that was the last time." you state, lips flatlined as you look to his position by the lockers. patrick's brows furrowing, kicking himself off the metal lockers to strand up straight. "what?" he questions, his mouth slightly agape. shrugging your shoulders as you open the door to the dressing room. "i'm not second best." patrick's speechless, watching you leave. his body slumping down onto the floor, his head flinging back into the lockers with force. "fuck!"

it's a month before you see patrick again, at the next tournament you're both competing at. a stream of unanswered texts flood your phone, along with a collection of drunk voicemails left by him. swept away by the attention winning your first slam, your focus on your tennis for the time being. half way across the world, you check into your hotel, readying yourself for the players mixer being held. walking into the hotel's function room, the hall already awash with players as you strut over to the bar. "will you just fucking talk to me?" you hear the familiar voice in your ear the second he reaches you. "fuck off, patrick." you murmur, before ordering yourself a drink. "you're killing me." he groans, his voice needy. "why won't you reply to any of my texts?" he questions, as you stand by a table, holding your drink in your hands, not looking to him. patrick's following you around like a puppy, desperate for you to just look at him, let alone reply. when you finally do, look at him, his breath catches in his throat. your eyes are soft, despite the rest of your face being utterly unimpressed by him. "i told you. it's over, patrick. leave it alone." you grumble, your words like knives to his chest. "go cry to your girlfriend." you spit, bringing your glass up your lips, looking away from him. "i don't have a girlfriend." he returns, leaning on the table, facing you. he's drinking in every move you make, every time you blink, inhaling your scent after a month away from you.

that was a new development. you bite back any form of reaction to patrick's words, just placing your drink back down on the table. he opens his mouth to speak again but he's cut off by another player entering the conversation. "hey, i'm jack. can I buy you a drink?" he smiles to you, leaning on his elbow to face you. patrick rolls his eyes, watching your body contort to face the voice beckoning you. "she's already got one." patrick mumbles, before you cut him off and nod your head to the brunette on the other side of you. "yeah, i'd like that." patrick grumbles, rolling his eyes as he watches you walk over to the bar, leaning his back on the table, glancing down to your half empty drink left beside him. he thought things would be easier, seeing you again. thought you'd come running back into his arms, especially now he'd dumped his girlfriend. but you don't. you spit at him, crush him more than the month of unanswered texts did. he sighs, picking up the remainder of your drink, downing it all as he watches you laugh and lean into the guy you're with. he spends the night sulking, drinking, watching you. pushing away the people who attempt to talk to him, too focused on watching your interactions. you're hanging onto jack's arm by the end of the night, letting him lead you upstairs, to his room. all patrick can do is watch. watch you slip further away from his grasp, while drowning his sorrows in more alcohol, that he won't be thankful for tomorrow during the first round of press.

patrick's there, always there, wherever you are the whole weekend of press and promo. following you around, just to see you. even if it means seeing you flirt and shower men that aren't him in your attention. he's lost, dumfounded on how to act if you aren't with him. desperate just to hear your velvety voice, see your lips upturn in reaction to his words, not someone else. he's consumed with need, attempting to distract himself with his tennis, not that it's working. he's panting, sweat dripping from his body on the practise courts when you walk out. seeing jack on the other side of you, carrying both sets of racket bags. throwing the ball down onto the floor a few times, breathing in before serving it across the court, met with a nod of approval by his coach. his eyes coast over to you, setting up your things, ready to play against jack. you've replaced him. you're doing everything you used to with patrick, but with another man. you don't need him anymore. it doesn't help patrick's ego that jack's ranking is much higher than his own. patrick attempts to carry on with his training, ignore the distraction of you only two courts away, but he's struggling. "get it together, patrick. c'mon." his coach presses, shouting over instructions as balls keep flying his way. it's almost impossible to concentrate on anything that isn't you. especially when he hears your grunts as you hit the ball over the net. trying to snap himself out of it, out of the very impure thoughts he's thinking. thwaccckkkk! patrick serves the ball with all his frustrations, receiving eyes on him as he does. "not bad, zweig." you half smile to him across the courts. he swears his heart stops beating.

you'd both made it through the round of 32, you're sitting in the recovery pool a couple hours after the match when patrick walks in. you don't notice the door open, only noticing his presence when his smirk forms in front of you, slipping into the small pool, sitting opposite you. "i see you're enjoying the tournament." patrick teases, his arms spread over the edges of the pool. "it's only just started." you return, pulling your legs closer to your body, away from his. "i meant more the company." he pushes, that signature smirk not leaving his lips. he wants to push you, tease you, how you're pushing him. "not that it's any of your business." you scoff, titling your head over to where he sits in the water, trying to read his expression. his hands raise in defence as he sucks on his teeth. "are you gonna be like this with me for the rest of the tour?" his tone becoming more serious as he gulps. his heart rate quickening, realising how close your body is, in such little clothing. he hadn't been alone with you for over a month, his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek, holding back his urge to reach out and touch you. you don't respond, just rolling your eyes and looking away from him. "tell me you don't want me and i'll leave you alone." the words leave patrick's lips before he can even realise what he's said. his stomach in knots the second he realises what he's proposed, he wouldn't be able to stay away even if you did tell him that. "i don't want you." the words hit his chest before his ears, his gaze on you intense as his bottom lip is moves between his teeth. patrick's brows furrow, just looking at you as his body floods with emotion. "you don't mean that." he chokes out. all you do is stare back at him, your face unreadable as you do. the water splashes onto your chest as patrick abruptly exists the pool, wrapping the towel around his waist as he looks down to you, your eyes lifting to look up to him. your gaze still soft, as it always is with patrick. "whatever." he mumbles, pushing the door open as he scrambles out of the room.

you distract yourself with tennis, or attempt to. lying to yourself that you don't want patrick. that you don't want to run to him, to be with him, to be his. if it wasn't tennis you used as a distraction, it was jack. he knew your head was elsewhere, so was his, so it worked. you were making your way through the tournament, into the round of 16, as was patrick. a lot of eyes obviously on you after winning the us open, your ranking moving up as well as the media circus that followed you. 'new tennis power couple?' was the article you were sent, with pictures of you and jack attached. rolling your eyes as you scrolled mindlessly through the so called news site. laughing about it with jack as you joined up with him for lunch, hearing the whispers around the hall as you sat together. patrick sat alone, pushing around the food on his plate, seeing the updates come out about you and jack. he should have known not to believe it, he knows how the media can be. you're barely even touching jack in the pictures, he doesn't know you like patrick does. but it doesn't stop the pit in his stomach as he watches the two of you together. it's only when he's alone in his hotel room that he texts you, adding another message to the number of texts he'd sent over the course of the month.

patrick: i know i said i'd back off but just tell me it's not true

sighing at notification on your phone, the bright screen lighting up the empty room. you try to fight off the urge to reply, knowing exactly what he's referencing. eventually, your head wins, turning the phone off and going to downstairs to the hotel lobby, your next match wasn't until the day after tomorrow. the read receipt highlighted on patrick's phone as he sits on the chat. throwing the phone across the room after a while of sitting there waiting. after throwing a shirt on his body, he wandered down to the hotel lobby. you're already down there, sat alone with a drink in hand. patrick quietly orders himself a drink and sits down across from you. "please, just talk to me." he sighs, leaning closer to you over the table. "patrick, i-" your defences are down, too tired, too frustrated. "i know i hurt you, okay? i'll never forgive myself for that, but i miss you." he babbles, his hand inching closer towards yours. "i'm so sorry, i want you, okay, just you." he whispers, his words coming out more like sobs than fully formed sentences. you're about to open your mouth to reply, when jack appears in front of you. you'd texted him to meet you down here. looking to patrick before back up to jack, standing up to kiss his lips. it was a low blow, you knew that, but patrick deserved it. he'd ruined your self-respect, you earned your right to serve his karma to him. patrick doesn't say anything, just watches. watches your hands wrap in his hair, watches your body melt against his, watches his heart get ripped out of his chest. you make eye contact with patrick as you push jack away towards the elevators, his face emotionless.

it was fate. horrible, twisted fate that patrick would draw jack in the quarter finals. everyone was backing jack to win, he was on paper the better player. more pragmatic, less chaotic than patrick. but patrick knew he had a point to prove. his eyes immediately found you in the stands at he walks out onto the court, his smirk present as he sets down his things. you're sat with a few of the friends you've made during the tour, barely able to focus on the conversation around you, eyes darting between patrick and jack sitting before you on the court. thwaccckkkk! your nails are half bitten off by the end of the first set, your heart in your chest at the end of the second. 6-2, 6-4. one set each. patrick was playing more erratically than usual, his curls slick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his chin. thwaccckkkk! patrick's eyes dart to you. "game, set, match, zweig." patrick's body slumps to the floor, his arms resting on his knees, catching his breath before walking across the court to shake jack's hand. his eyes dart up to you again, to your empty seat. his eyes search for you, catching a glimpse of you exiting the stands. slumping down onto the floor again, thinking how it didn't mean anything. his win, to you, met nothing.

it's 10pm when you hear the knocking on your hotel door, jumping up from your place on the bed, opening the door to patrick. ready to close the door on him before he barges in. "i fucking won, and you just leave?" his voice already raised, facing you as you close the door. "so what?" you scoff, arms crossed against your chest. "i won, i beat him." his tone angry, his chest already pounding. "i didn't realise you were playing for my attention." your words are sharp, cutting through to him. "of course i fucking was!" patrick shouts, his body only two foot away from your own. "everything i do is to get your attention." his voice still raised. your lips are flat, just staring at him, but eyes still soft. "you are killing me." he almost whispers. "patrick, this was never going to end well, just look at how we started." your voice starts to increase in volume, fed up of this wounded puppy display patrick is showing. "i don't want it to end at all." you're both shouting now, not caring about who can hear through the hotel walls. "this is fucking ridiculous, i'm not your girlfriend, never fucking was." you spit your words out, arms dropping to your sides. "i'm not the only one who was cheating, you know? or did you forget that when you jumped on your high horse?" patrick's words are pointed, his body stepping closer towards you. "yeah, but i actually dumped my boyfriend! for you, patrick!"

he doesn't know how, he doesn't remember telling his body to move, but he definitely doesn't mind that it did. his hands are cupped around your face, his lips smashed into yours. you push yourself off of him, looking into his eyes before immediately crashing your lips back onto his. it's messy, tongues slipping over each others, your hands grabbing at the fabric around his waist. "tell me you want me." patrick mumbles into your mouth, his hands moving to grip at the hairs on your scalp. a grumble falls from you, your tongue pushing further into patrick's mouth before he pulls your head away by your hair. forcing your eyes to look to his, his fist balled around your hair. "tell me you fucking want me." you want to punch the smirk off his face, your breath heavy as you stare into his half-lidded eyes. "i want you." he pulls your head back further. "tell me again." your mouth agape, a quiet whimper escaping you. "i want you." you moan out, his grip loosening as his lips attach to yours again, only parting to pull your t-shirt over your head. "good girl." he whispers, as your fingers pull his shirt off his body. it's moments before patrick reaches down, hooking your thighs under his grip, lifting you up and walking over to the bed. his lips only detaching from yours when he throws your body down onto the mattress. patrick's eyes are dark as he crawls over your body, his lips kissing up from your stomach before he reaches your neck. propped up on your elbows as his mouth nips and sucks at the base of your neck, quiet hums of pleasure from you rush to his ears like it's the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "missed your skin." he mumbles against your jaw, wrapping his lips around your earlobe. "shut up." you groan, your head angling to expose more of your neck to him.

"oh, you wanna be a little brat do you?" his evil smirk shows again, fingers digging into the sides of your wrists as he pins them up above your head. he manoeuvres to capture your wrists with one of his hands as the other pushes your shorts down to your knees, slipping his hand into your panties, groaning as he feels your wetness. using his knee to push your legs apart, your shorts bunching at your ankles as you free your feet from the pool of fabric. "so wet for me already." he teases, his fingers sliding through your folds as he starts circling your clit. patrick's mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone as you struggle trying to free your arms from his grip. all he does is push your wrists further into the mattress, his fingers digging into your skin. his eyes glare into yours as he watches every expression you make, not daring to look away as the pace of his fingers speeds up. "mmm, so close," you mumble, your back arching before patrick rips his fingers away, letting go of your wrists at the same time. "what the fuck." you grumble, a slight pout on your lips, only causing an evil chuckle from patrick. "you don't get to cum until i'm inside you." he smirks, ripping your panties down your legs before standing up to pull his shorts down his legs along with his underwear. "you're so fucking annoying." you continue complaining as patrick crawls over your body again, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "why are you so desperate to fuck me then?"

your mouth opens to reply, words inching out as patrick's hand wraps around your throat. "shut the fuck up." he smirks, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck as you fight for breath. your hand moves to grip as his wrist, watching as patrick lets a glob of spit drip from his mouth down onto your cunt. sitting himself up on his knees, your thighs resting against his as his free hand drifts to rub his cock against you. smearing his spit into your wetness, teasing your entrance as he pushes himself in an inch. your head pushing back into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed as you attempt to ask him for more. "look at me." he orders, his eyes dark and half-lidded as you eventually look to him. "good girl." he groans as he slides himself in fully. patrick finally removes his hand from your throat, moving to squeeze the flesh of your thighs as he fucks you without mercy. his nails cutting into your skin as moans echo around the room, his body falling on top of yours as you clench around him. his forehead pressed against yours, open mouthed kisses pressed to your jaw. your arms wrapped around his body, clawing at his shoulder blades as your legs move to trap his body against yours. sucking bruises onto patrick's neck as his hips smash against yours repeatedly. he groans as he slides out you, flipping your body over and pulling your ass up against him. barely being able to register what's happened by the time his cock slides into you again, scrambling to prop yourself up onto all fours. thwaccckkkk! the sound of his open palm against your ass sends a shiver down your arching spine, as loud moans escape your throat. patrick spanks the flesh of your ass again before grabbing a handful of your hair, pulling your chest up closer to his body. patrick's grunts fill your ears as the hand on your ass reaches below you, his fingers drawing circles against your clit. his teeth nipping at the skin on your shoulder as he pulls you closer, your back flush against his chest. patrick can tell you're close to the edge, feeling the way you clench around him and the volume of your moans getting louder.

"cum for me baby, be a good little girl and cum for me." patrick mumbles against your skin, licking the skin of your neck. his words force you to let go, an almost scream leaving your lips as your body nearly crumbles at the sensation. patrick's grip on your hair keeping you upright, humming into your neck. he lets you ride out your high before pushing your chest down into the mattress, his big hands gripping at the sides of your body under your arms as he fastens his pace. your face near enough buried in the mattress as you turn to try and look up to him behind you, patrick groaning louder as you do. "so fucking pretty like this." he murmurs, nails digging into your flesh as he slams his hips against your ass once more, filling your insides with his load. "jesus fucking christ." patrick groans as his body falls flat on top of you, panting as he places sloppy kisses to your back. feeling his load start to drip down you as he slides out and falls to the side of you.

your bodies are bruised and scratched, staring into each others eyes as you both attempt to return your breathing to a normal pace. patrick leans over, kissing your lips sweetly as you manoeuvre onto your side. "i take it that means you and jack aren't a thing, right? or did you just cheat on another boyfriend?" patrick almost laughs at himself, as you swat his arm. "you're such an asshole." you laugh, shaking your head at him. this is what he'd missed. your laugh, the way you looked at him, you being the only person in the world who could put him in his place. the way you put up with him, how you always knew what to say. moving to brush his curls off his forehead, letting your fingers rest against his cheek, slowly caressing his skin. "i meant what i said, that i just want you." patrick whispers, his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "i know." you smile, your thumb still rubbing back and forth on his face. the silence is comfortable, eyes locked on each other, peaceful. waking up the next morning, it's as though everything has fallen back into place. patrick joins you training, returns to his regular position opposite you on the practise courts. there's no conversations about your relationship, patrick's too scared to ask. too scared to question, he doesn't want to risk pushing you away again.

thwaccckkkk! sitting in the box with patrick's coaches and the rest of his team, watching patrick play in his first final of his professional career. you'd unfortunately been knocked out during the semi-finals, meaning the rest of your time during the tournament was spent helping patrick prepare. you could tell patrick was nervous, despite no one else picking up on it. to the average eye, he was calm, playing as chaotically controlled as usual. sweat was dripping from every inch of his skin, his black tank stuck to his chest as he rolled the racket between his hands. patrick was a set up against his opponent, he'd won six games to four. his eyes glance over to the box, listening to his coach's advice, letting his eyes wander to you as he does. the silence is almost eery, not that he wasn't used to it during matches, but the silence before serves is when he really considers his surroundings. he's in the final, his first final. he's a set up, he could actually win this. you're a wreck, anxiously watching from the stands as patrick wins another game. a smirk rushes onto your face, watching patrick hit a tweener, to win the match. jumping up to your feet with his team as the crowd erupts. it's as though patrick doesn't register it, until he looks at you. his racket drops from his hands, falling onto his knees, letting the wash of emotion rush over him. he shakes his opponent's hand before security bring him through the crowd to his team. engulfed in hugs by his coaches, shouting how proud they are of him before he escapes their grip. moving down to you, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you up to the air. "i knew you'd win." you giggle into his ear as he places you down onto the ground, his teethy grin not leaving his face. his hands stay wrapped around you as his lips crash into yours, in the middle of the crowd, in front of cameras from every angle. "i can't believe you just did that." you smile, blush creeping onto your cheeks as you feel every set of eyes on you. "what? i can't kiss my girl after winning my first title?" patrick chuckles, hands pulling you flush against him. "oh, your girl, huh?" you laugh, hands snaking around his neck, his lips grazing yours as he speaks. "you know you're mine."

[sinofwriting]

Sparks - Ollie Bearman

Words: 833 Word Prompt: Sparks

Masterlist | Support Me! | Sin’s Sept. Blurbs

Her hands come together, clapping, as she jumps up and down cheering.

She lets David guide her, keeping himself between her and some of the PREMA team members as they watch Ollie stop the car behind the number one spot and then get out. More cheers erupting from the movement.

He throws himself into the team and her smile somehow grows wider as she watches them all grab and pat at him, beyond happy with him. She even spots Kimi in the crowd of mechanics despite his poor race, having gotten put into the wall by someone in an overzealous move on lap three.

Ollie makes his way down and she feels David’s hands fall from her shoulders as he pats Ollie on the back before Ollie pulls her up and into a hug. She makes a squeaking sound as her feet leave the ground, but clutches at him back, his grip on her unbelievably tight and she just knows he’s going to be shaky when he gets back from the podium.

“Last weekend in F2 and you practically pulled a grand slam!” She shouts and can just barely hear Ollie laugh, his fingers tightening somehow, refusing to let her go. “You did amazing, Bear!” He laughs again, full of disbelief and then he’s slowly and carefully putting her down to yank off his helmet. “You’ll stay here with my dad for the podium right?” She nods, eagerly. “Of course.” She glances at David who looks somehow even prouder of Ollie than he usually does. “David won’t let anything happen to me.” David pats her shoulder. “Not a single hair will get touched on her head.”

As she just a few minutes later watches Ollie on the podium she can’t help but fall a little bit more in love with her best friend than she already was. He looks so happy and relieved that this is how he’s finishing out his career in Formula 2, not with a bad run of races, but with two wins, a pole position, fastest lap, and fastest in practice. It was like a weight had lifted from his shoulders.

When he finally comes back to the small drivers room that Ferrari had given him in their garage, his dad pats him on the back, ruffling his hair before excusing himself and the door shuts behind with a soft click, leaving just the two of them alone.

“You did so well, Bear.” Her soft voice makes him break, a strangled sob leaving him and she quickly wraps an arm around him, pulling his head to rest in the crook of her neck. “You did so well.” She repeats, tears of her own coming to her eyes as she feels him shaking in her hold. “I can’t,” he sobs. “I can’t believe it’s over. I’m so fucking tired.”

Her heart aches, she knows how much the media and fans saying it was odd to see him promoted when his F2 season was so poor, even after his two excellent drives in F1, had hurt him. And she knew that it had been a matter of time before he broke. She wasn’t expecting for it to happen as soon as he was out of the car and away.

She continues to hold him as he cries, her skin hot and soaked from his tears and her hips feel squeezed from the tight circle of his arms, but his sobbing has stopped, his crying is slowing, his shaking no longer.

“I don’t want to watch the race.” He mumbles against her skin and her pulse jumps. “Or debrief.” “You’ll have to do a debrief, but I’ll message Jock. And maybe your dad can talk to Rene about an informal debrief, just an email sent out tomorrow.” “That sounds nice.” He says, pulling just a bit away as he stands up straight, wiping at his face to clear it from the tears that spilled. The movement makes her hand fall away from his hair. “I’ll text him and see what he can do.”

“Can you hold me still while you do it?” Blood rushes to her face at the question, “I think it will be more of you holding me, but I’ll do my best.”

Pulling out her phone, her breath hitches as Ollie now tucks her into him.

It’s a brief text and she tries to show Ollie, but he shakes his head with a grumble and tells her to just send it. David’s response is a quick on it which she relays to Ollie.

As she puts her phone away, Ollie grumbles again and then sparks seem to fly across her skin as he puts his hands under her shirt, pressing her somehow even closer. It makes her head tilt back with a gasp.

“Bear,” Her name comes out just the same and then he’s leaning in, eyes staring into hers, both of them holding their breath and she gives a slight nod and then his lips are on hers.

[jareaul0ver]

nika fic where nika is being hella clingy with reader while they’re trying to get ready to go out with the team and they end up having a quickie before leaving. when they finally show up to the event all disheveled paige or kk notice the hickeys and reader gets all flustered n stuff

Lunch

wc: 1.2k warnings: nsfw, fingering, brief nipple play, quickie, nika fucking reader in the mirror, hickeys, language, teasing from friends pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

You pulled together your outfit with the small details. You slid a few rings onto your fingers, bracelets onto your wrists, and clasped a necklace Nika had given you around your neck.

It was always "tradition" to celebrate a win with your girls. You'd find a bar or a club and go out, get absolutely shit faced, and wake up the next morning hungover, all to have to go to practice.

Did you have some regrets most of the time? Yes, of course, but you wouldn't let that stop you from spending time with the people that meant the most to you in your life.

You couldn't help but stare at yourself in the mirror. You were never the most cocky or confident type, but tonight you knew you looked good.

A few clicks of your phone camera later, you watched Nika approach you from behind. She slinked her arms around your waist and rested her chin on your shoulder.

"Hi, baby." She mumbled. You watched her eyes take in your figure through the mirror, and she took her bottom lip between her teeth. "You look.. so good."

A light blush colored your face. You would never get used to the endless complements from Nika, no matter how long you'd be together.

Your hands rested over hers. "Thanks, babe." You looked over at her and kissed her cheek. You made sure to snap another picture, capturing the sweet moment with your girlfriend.

She hummed in response and moved her hands to rest on your hips. Nika pressed a light kiss to your neck. "Really, I don't know if I'll be able to keep my hands to myself tonight."

You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. "Well, it'll have to wait until we get back, we don't wanna be late." You went to pull away from her but her grip on you was strong. "Baby, seriously we-"

She gently bit down on your shoulder, quickly soothing it with her tongue. A small gasp fell from your lips at the sudden action. "I think we still have a few minutes before we have to leave, no?" She kissed up your shoulder and neck, her lips landing on your jawline.

A shiver ran through your body and you mindlessly melted against her. She always knew how to get you going, even in the most inopportune times.

"But-" you sighed when you felt her hand unbutton your jeans. Her eyes met yours in the mirror, and she silently asked for permission. If you really didn't want this right now, she would never make you do it, even if you looked like a work of art to her.

With the odds in her favor, you nodded slightly with parted lips. She quickly unzipped your pants and slipped her hand past the waistband of both your jeans and panties.

She groaned softly in your ear as she slid her fingers through your slick folds. "Fuck, you're so wet for me already? Haven't even done anything yet." Her middle and ring fingers found your clit and she rubbed small circles on it.

Your head fell back to lean against her shoulder, but you kept your eyes on hers in the mirror. She refused to look away, and so did you.

The two of you have had incredibly hot sex before. Ranging anywhere from rough after suffering a loss of a game, to gentle if one of you needed relaxing, and sure you've had incredibly sensual and intimate moments together, but this was on a whole other level.

Without warning she slipped her fingers into you and you whined. "Fuck." She slowly pumped her digits in and out of your soaked cunt. She latched her lips onto your neck and sucked hard for a second.

Her lips came away and a string of saliva left them connected to your skin for a second. "So pretty like this, baby. You think you look pretty? Hm?"

You nodded a little frantically as she quickened her pace. "Mhm. I- I look pretty- fuck!" She curled her fingers, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

Nika's other hand slinked up your shirt and a small smirk formed on her face. "No bra?" She pinched a nipple between her fingers and your body arched away from her.

You screwed your eyes shut, and immediately felt her stop her movements. Your eyes shot open, but before you could speak, she did. "Eyes on me and I'll make you cum, pretty."

Your lips parted and you took a deep breath. "Okay. Please, Nika, I need you."

She couldn't resist. Not when you sounded so desperate for her touch. She started curling her fingers in you quickly and hard. Her hand cupped your breast and she leaned back down, biting your shoulder.

"Feel good?" She mumbled before attaching her lips to your skin again.

"Mm, 's good, Nika." Your entire body weight was practically on her at this point. Your knees were weak, and you quickly felt the bubble in your stomach building up.

Her hand dropped to your stomach, and she lightly pressed down on it, letting you feel the goodness of her fingers inside of you even easier.

You moaned loudly and Nika responded with a huff. She quickened the pace of her fingers and you felt yourself getting incredibly close to finishing.

"Fuck, baby, I'm getting close- oh!" She dropped her hand even further and slipped it beneath her other to rub circles against your clit.

She sucked harshly on your neck and shoulder, littering them with small bites and hickeys you undeniably knew you'd get in trouble for.

That was the last of your worries though, as your body arched away from hers, the band finally snapping in your stomach. "Fuck!" You cried and screwed your eyes shut as you rode out your climax.

She slowed her pace before eventually pulling her fingers out of you, soaked with your juices. Nika brought them up to your mouth and you willingly cleaned her off.

"You did so good, babe." She mumbled as she pressed gentle kisses against your skin.

Everyone obviously knew that you and Nika had gotten up to some activities before you came. The crazed amount of marks and the fucked out look on your face easily gave it away.

Most of the team respected the two of you enough to not say anything, except for Paige. She never knew how to keep her mouth shut.

"Yo, you look like a vacuum cleaner got stuck to you." She raised her eyebrows at you, and then Nika who was standing behind you, in the same position that she had fucked you in before leaving.

Your face immediately turned red and a few of your teammates snickered at Paige's comment. "Shut your damn mouth, Bueckers."

Nika kissed your cheek softly before looking at Paige. "At least she's getting some, P, can't say the same about you." She clapped back.

A few "ooh's" came from the close knit circle of friends and Paige sulked away to the bar to get another drink.

You turned and captured Nika's lips in a quick kiss. "Mm, I love you, baby, but God you make me look like I'm a pornstar for a living sometimes."

She laughed softly. "Told you I wouldn't be able to help myself."

[pedantic-poison]

Charles jealous and possessive please, as much as you can imagine 🔥

belong to you | CL16

warnings: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, language, choking, spanking, edging, unprotected p in v (mentioned)

word count: .6k

You really hadn't meant anything by it.

Well, you sort of had. But Singapore was only Carlos' second win, and Charles had seemed fine going out with the rest of the team to celebrate him.

And yeah, you'd been laying it on a little thick with Carlos, but you'd really just congratulated him a few times. More than a few times, to be honest. And you might've squeezed his biceps a few of those times, or leaned in close to speak into his ear. Maybe danced near him, just a bit.

And suddenly, Charles' large hands were on your waist, yanking you away from the crowd, from Carlos, and dragging you into a dark corner of the club.

"You really think you can spend the whole night teasing me like that and get away with it?" he growled into your ear as your back hit the wall.

One hand landed on your throat, squeezing lightly, as the other held you in place for him to grind against. The bulge in his pants drew a whimper out of you, which had him grinning against your skin as he trailed harsh kisses along your neck.

He slotted a thigh in between yours, pushing it up against you as you ground down onto it immediately, whimpering louder.

"Already needy for me, ma cherie?"

Before you could get out a snarky response, he bit down onto the sensitive skin of your neck, causing you to gasp harshly as he applied more pressure to your throat.

"Just for me. Only for me. All mine." His lips found yours, tongue invading your mouth quickly, dominating your own, and then he was nipping harshly at your bottom lip and pulling away.

His hands were sliding up your dress, finding the hem of your panties, tracing your slit through the fabric, growling when he found them already damp.

"This had better be for me, cherie."

The darkness in his eyes should've made you let up, but it only made you want to taunt him harder.

"And if it's not?"

The hand on your throat tightened to an almost painful degree, "Then when we get home, I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to."

* * *

You whined out of frustration as Charles denied you an orgasm for the fifth time that night, pulling his fingers out of you. "No, no, Charles, please, please, please let me come, ple-"

A harsh smack on your bare ass silenced you, bottom lip quivering as tears streamed down your face, from frustration, from desperation, from overstimulation, you weren't really sure anymore. You could barely hold yourself up, straddling Charles' lap so he could reach your ass to punish you if you got too demanding, facing him so he could watch you cry and fall apart in his arms.

"If you wanted to finish, then you should've thought about that before you tried to tease me, mon amour. Since you decided to act like a little slut, I need to make sure you remember who you belong to."

"Y-you! Belong to you, Charles, please," you whimpered out, voice weak from how needy he'd made you.

"Please what, hm?"

"Please fuck me, please, I need you."

Charles hummed, pretending to consider it, "You need me?"

You nodded eagerly, desperately.

"Strange. Earlier tonight, it seemed like you wanted Carlos to fuck you. After all, he's the one you were throwing yourself at."

You shook your head vehemently, "No, Charles, just want you, only ever want you."

"And why do you only ever want me, cherie?"

"B-because I belong to you," you sobbed out, body wracked with exhaustion and yet still completely on edge for him.

He nodded sternly, "That's right, mon amour." His strong hands skimmed across the red skin of your ass, firmly gripping it to lift you up and over his cock.

"Gonna fill you up so you can never forget that you're mine."

[yazmarina]

not just a figure of speech (you got me down on my knees)

paul aron (f2) x gender neutral!reader

flirting with your teammate seemed a good enough idea, until a not-so-good qualifying tears down every ounce of restraint from your body.

warnings/notes: smut, friends to ???, oral sex, semi-public sex, lots of flirting

a/n: anj stop using lyrics as titles challenge failed. a short and sweet one in honor of our barcelona pole sitter! enjoy <3

"You're here early."

You look up from the monitor in front of you to see Paul walking into the Hitech tent, an easy smile on his lips. He takes the seat in front of you, gently nudging your foot under the table.

"Only because I wanted to see you as soon as I could," you respond. A grin makes its way to your face at the way Paul's cheeks immediately redden.

"Good one," Paul commends, nodding as he avoids your eyes.

"What? You're not happy to see me?" You ask, leaning over the table, peering closer at Paul.

Paul meets your gaze and you can see that the red tinge has reached down to his neck. You giggle, your own stomach bursting into butterflies as his eyes scan over your face.

"I'm always happy to see you, ________," Paul says, reaching over to pinch your cheek.

You lean into his touch, laying the entire side of your face against his hand. He briefly runs his thumb over your cheek, retracting his arm just as quick. You straighten in your seat, clearing your throat.

The engineers and strategists around you don't even bat an eye at the exchange, or even if they had noticed, they've grown too accustomed to your and Paul's teasing, a habit both of you picked up towards the start of the season as a way to get around the awkward tension you two had as new teammates.

You'd tell him he looked handsome as he entered the room and he'd blush and return the compliment. You'd always follow it up with a hearty laugh, brushing it off as friendly banter whenever someone asked.

It's always been this way. And every time you thought it would go somewhere, when the pause and smile between cheeky compliments gets too long, or when hands wander during hugs, Paul would always turn away, distancing himself from you until you inevitably gravitate back toward each other.

You feel like it's something, something that you should probably talk about with Paul, or at least address. But what would you say? What is this?

"Track walk in ten, guys."

You jolt out of your thoughts, everyone around you already packing up to head to the track. You catch Paul's eyes again and he grins, rising from his seat before holding out a hand to you.

You take it without much thought, eventually snaking your arm around his, grip firm on his bicep. If people didn't know better, they'd think the two of you were stepping out for a date.

"I'm excited," you admit, peering up at Paul as the two of you exit the tent. "The track's great. Aren't you excited?"

Paul nods. "I am. Might be in for a win, finally."

You beam, squeezing his arm. "That's my guy."

You miss the way Paul's eyes practically shimmer as he gazes down at you.

-

"P fucking five," Paul curses under his breath, dropping his helmet with a loud clatter to the floor.

You listen and pause just outside his driver's room, the thin, opaque flap of plastic separating him from the rest of the team tent. You know better than to interrupt a driver in the throes of a bad qualifying result but as a teammate and his friend, you know that Paul would never dare lash out at you even if he was upset.

So you call out to him.

"Paul?"

You flinch back when he pulls back the cover of his room. His hair is disheveled, his eyes somber. Paul's frown softens when he sees you and he immediately widens the opening to his room.

You step in, fidgeting with the sleeves of your fireproof as Paul zips the canvas flap shut.

"I...," you begin, not really sure what to say. Paul avoids your eyes, messing around with some stuff on his massage table but you know he wasn't really doing anything of note.

Maybe it was a mistake to come in at all.

"Can you just...," Paul begins, straightening up, still unable to look directly at you.

You wait patiently for him to formulate his words, your own fingers twisting into the fabric of your race suit.

"I should leave, I'm sorr–"

"...stay here."

You blink, Paul's words registering in your brain half a second late. He finally looks at you, eyebrows creased.

"Don't leave," Paul says. "I said you could stay."

You exhale, finally letting yourself relax. Paul seems to mirror your demeanor because he finally slumps against the massage table, head hanging low as he stares at the floor.

You shuffle uncertainly forward, coming into Paul's line of sight. He's looking at you with this hurt look in his eyes, one you've never seen before. It's jarring, slightly unnerving, the way your teammate is being so vulnerable in front of you right now.

"A lot can be done from P5," you assure Paul. "I'm down in 11th."

"I'll reward you if you get a podium," you continue with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood, not really meaning whatever it is you're saying.

Paul raises his eyebrows, a hint of a smile gracing his lips.

"Reward me with what?" he asks, sliding backward to sit on the massage table.

You feel a violent blush settle on your cheeks as your brain finally catches up with your mouth.

"With dinner, Paul. I'll treat you to dinner," you deadpan, rolling your eyes.

Paul chuckles, leaning back on his hands, gaze unwavering as he continues to stare at you.

Your hand flies up to your neck, a nervous habit as you realize just how hard Paul is staring. Clearing your throat, you seem to snap Paul out of his trance, eyes blinking as he refocuses on your face.

"What do you want me to do, then?" You ask, trying to steer the awkwardness away.

Paul gives you a look and squares his jaw, a teasing glint in his eyes.

He jerks his chin inward, prompting you to realize that he's saying, 'Come here'. You swallow, stepping closer, breath hitching as you watch Paul part his legs. Your mouth falls open when it dawns on you just how close he wants you.

His hand reaches out tentatively, fingertips brushing gently against your arm. You let him tug you closer, closer, and closer still, until you're situated between his legs. With him sitting, you're nearly the same height. You can feel his breath on your face. He's within kissing distance.

"I can think of a few things," Paul finally says, his hand dropping from your arm down to your waist.

"Hey," you blurt out. Paul flinches and jerks his hand back, the amusement in his face replaced with genuine worry.

"Only if you want to, of course, I mean I wasn't suggesting anything that's–"

"Paul."

He pauses, eyes wide, as if scared he'd offended you somehow.

You realize that this is it. This is what it all boils down to. All that teasing and tentative touches have come to this.

"The reward only comes after the podium," you remind him.

Paul lets out a relieved laugh, both his hands now snaking around your waist. He holds you firmly in place, tilting his head to the side as if studying every inch of your face.

"A good luck charm, then?"

Your face breaks out into a grin, your own palms creeping up Paul's firm thighs. His bottom lip slips between his teeth as he watches you tug his race suit further down.

"I was thinking a kiss, but if you wanna do that, I'm not gonna stop you," Paul comments, nudging you teasingly.

"Would you prefer a kiss over me blowing you?" You ask, knuckles brushing against Paul's bulge.

Paul shakes his head.

He lifts his hips up for a second, allowing you to pull his suit all the way off, along with his bottom fireproofs and underwear.

You gasp softly as you're met with Paul's length.

"Surprised?" Paul questions, guiding your hand to it. You wrap your fingers around and give an experimental squeeze.

Paul groans, throwing his head back. He stiffens even more in your hold.

"Not at all," you answer, dropping to your knees in one graceful swoop.

"You're just as I imagined," you admit.

You lick a long stripe from the base of Paul's cock to the tip, swirling once over his head before spitting on it. Paul shivers above you, mouth hanging open.

"Fuck," he mutters softly. "You've thought about this?"

"Mhm," you confirm, wrapping your lips around him fully.

You feel a harsh tug at your scalp and you whine as Paul threads and twists his fingers in your hair. You retaliate by sinking lower around him, stopping only when you feel his tip against the back of your throat.

"Holy shit," he whispers, pulling your head back so he could peer into your eyes.

"Make it quick," Paul warns, tightening his hold on your hair even more. "Debrief is starting soon."

You don't have to be told twice as you pull back all the way before sinking forward again. You set up a rhythm, swirling your tongue over the tip every once and again, teeth lightly grazing his length as you come back down.

Paul clamps a hand over his mouth, not trusting himself to keep quiet, not with the way you're kneeling in front of him right now, his dick down your throat. He has a vice grip on your hair, sending your own arousal down between your legs.

You speed up when you hear voices just outside Paul's driver room, aware that a thin piece of plastic is the only thing separating the rest of the team and the image of their two drivers in the middle of a scandalous act.

As if reading your thoughts, Paul snickers, raising his eyebrows as you look up at him.

"They'd freak if they saw you like this," Paul taunts. "The second in the championship blowing the championship lead?"

You pinch Paul's thigh and he curses, laughing breathlessly right after.

"Okay, okay, sorry baby," Paul croons, loosening his grip on your hair.

You pull off him, panting, your hair in a sorry state.

"You've annoyed me now," you warn with a smirk. "You can use your own hand to finish the job."

Paul pouts. "Hey, now. I said I'm sorry."

"I know," you say. "If you can cum in the next two minutes, I'll let you do it inside my mouth."

"Fuck," Paul mutters, his hand already starting to pump along his length.

You snicker, laying your head on Paul's thigh while your palm strokes the other.

"Come on, Paul," you coax sweetly. "I'll give you more later if you can get that podium."

Paul grunts, speeding up even more. He eyes you darkly and you simply smile, digging your nails into the flesh of his thigh.

"Open," is all he says and you obey immediately, straightening up, your tongue sticking out as you anticipate Paul's release.

You yelp as you feel Paul nudge your head forward, his cock sliding into your mouth as it twitches, spurting hot cum straight down your throat. You swallow immediately, gagging slightly when you feel even more landing on your tongue.

You gasp as you pull away, some of the leftover dribbling down your chin. You swipe it off with your thumb, licking it clean, laughing as Paul slumps backward.

"Shit," Paul concludes, chest still heaving from the effort.

You pull yourself up, legs trembling slightly from the strain of kneeling for so long. Paul eyes you as you smooth your hair down, wiping at your face with the back of your hand in case you missed any trace of him.

"No podium, no sex," you remind him, leaning down to leave a kiss on his cheek.

You move to pull away but Paul tugs you back down, your feet stumbling over each other. You start to protest but all words die on your tongue when you feel Paul seal his lips firmly over yours.

"You should have just said that at the beginning of this weekend," Paul jokes, laughing when he feels you smack him on the arm.

-

"Well, would you look at that?"

You chew on your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling as Paul approaches you, his 1st place trophy tucked under his arm. He glances at it momentarily before looking back at you.

"That's a podium," Paul points out, looking at you expectantly.

You shake your head, but the smile finally breaks loose on your face.

"Room 807. Come by before you go out and celebrate."

Paul snickers, leaning in briefly to kiss your cheek this time.

"Are you kidding? You're coming to celebrate with me," Paul declares over his shoulder, sauntering off.

"Double celebration, baby!"