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dannyriccsystem · 2 days ago

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HE'S ON THE RUN AND YOUR DADDY'S HERE!

MAX VERSTAPPEN X READER

SUMMARY: After you established a relationship with a new man, you've noticed that your daughter has started to favor him. When she begins to refuse to listen to anyone but him, you have to call him in to help you out.

WORD COUNT: 2K

WARNINGS: Slight angst w/ comfort, single parent reader, Max being an absolute darling angel, reader is insecure as a parent

FEATURING: Max Verstappen x Single Parent!Reader

NOTE: I’ve had this on my mind for ages…

You were just beginning to relax after a hard day of work. It was one tiring thing after another, and then to come home to a daughter going through her rebellious phase as a young girl was just the cherry on top of your frustrations. You kept a calm face as you gently talked her through each fit, but inside, you were just on the brink of losing it. It wasn't her fault; it was just the way her brain was developing. In fact, you had chosen to take all the blame yourself for not being able to figure out a solution.

After a lot of coaxing and reading the same storybook again and again, she had eventually dozed off against her own will, another unread book and her cat stuffed animal tucked into her arms against her chest. You let out a sigh of relief as you lie back on the sofa, hands pulling your phone from the pocket of your pajama shorts. You slowly scan over the notifications, but then swipe up to unlock the screen and dismiss all the unimportant messages.

Your fingers trek along the familiar route to Max's profile. It was a fresh relationship, and yet it was second nature to navigate your way to his contact. You hit the call button, holding the phone to your ear as you listened to it ring.

One ring.

Two rings.

It had gotten halfway through the third when he picked up, his sweet voice greeting you with a, "Good evening, Y/N." You smiled so easily. Your soul felt like it was walking on clouds. He hears your sigh and mistakes it for something weary. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah!" You reassure, though he can sense the hesitation. "Just had a long day, and it took a while to put Wren to sleep." Max hums, and even though you can't see him, you know he's thoughtfully nodding his head. "She's been going through it lately."

"How so?"

"Refusing to eat the dinner I make, even when I know she likes it, staying up late, throwing tantrums over the smallest things." You're not complaining, but rather reciting the truth. "I just... I don't know what to do. I try to correct it, but it ends with tears that last for far longer than I can handle, and I eventually fold."

"I see," The call falls silent for a moment, the two of you each deep in your individual thoughts. "How long ago did it start?"

"Maybe two months. It wasn't as bad in the beginning, but the past two weeks have been really bad for her." You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I'm sorry, I meant to call you to relax, but I ended up ranting instead."

He laughs with ease. "I don't mind.” Quiet. For only a moment. “That’s about when we first started dating.”

You open your mouth to talk, but the sound of soft, small footsteps interrupts you. You pull the phone from your ear and sit up, peeking over the couch to watch your daughter slowly descend the stairs. "Wren, sweetie, what's wrong?"

"I can't sleep," she replies as she groggily rubs her eyes. You chew the inside of your cheek as you survey the situation. It's been like this the last few nights: an endless, repetitive cycle of waking up way too early.

"Could you lie down and keep trying?" You suggest, even though you know that's not the proper solution. You watch her bottom lip tremble, and her hands rub at her eyes furiously as tears begin to well. You pull the phone back up, whispering, "Sorry, can I call you back?"

"Did she wake up?"

"Yeah..."

"I'll come over then.” You can hear shuffling on his end, and you assume he’s probably getting up to gather his things. His answer shocks you, and you find yourself stumbling over your words.

“No, it’s fine—”

“I’m already on my way,” he says, interrupting your attempt at refuting. You bite your tongue and give a little sigh. “Besides, I wanna see you. So just hang tight.” He ends the call before you can even get a word in. You look back at Wren, and your heart clenches with uncertainty.

“Wren, come sit down.” She stares at you with that soft pout before she carefully makes her way over to the couch, plopping down next to you. She leans against your side, staring at the TV which is currently in an idle position, the logo bouncing around the screen hypnotically. “Max is gonna come over,” you say with some hesitation, unsure of how she’ll react.

He made a good point earlier. Her misbehavior had begun around the same time they started to see each other, which made you feel uneasy. Was she acting this way because she was struggling to accept a new potential father figure? Maybe she didn’t approve of Max. You liked him— you liked him a LOT— but you would always prioritize the feelings of your daughter. You ran your fingers over her scalp, placing a kiss there not long after. “Okay…” She whispered, hugging her plushie tighter to her chest.

You fill the silence of the next few minutes with your humming. You can tell she’s fighting off sleep, intentionally keeping herself awake despite the soft lull of your melodic voice. When a knock on the door finally arrives, you gently pull yourself away from her to answer it. She leans back against the cushions, burying her face in her plush so that only her eyes are visible. You answer the door, and Max greets you with a hug and a kiss to the cheek.

He enters the room, shouldering off his jacket and hanging it on the rack, as well as sliding off his shoes. He approaches your daughter slowly as you stand back and watch, surveying the situation with practiced caution. Max sits beside her, rearranging the pillows to make room.

“I like your pajamas, Wren,” he says with a big grin, his eyes crinkled up in unadulterated joy. Of course he did! They were white with kittens plastered all over them sporadically. She pulled her face away from her stuffed toy and smiled back at him, albeit sleepily. “I heard you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

He talks to her so easily. Every guy you’ve met was intimidated by the idea of you having a daughter. You always figured it stemmed from the fact that there was, at one point, another serious person in your life that abandoned you for whatever reason. Or maybe it was that they weren’t looking for anything serious, and the idea of meeting her made it too real too fast. Max, however, was delighted to meet Wren without any hesitation.

You sat on a nearby armchair, watching everything unfold. “Yeah,” Wren finally replied, looking away to play with the whiskers of the cat stuffie. Max watched her hands, laughing under his breath at the reoccurring theme of felines. “Why can’t you be here all the time?” Her voice was soft and shaky, and when she looked up it had folded into a heartbreakingly sad expression.

Max frowned when she began to cry, but he immediately pulled her into his arms, tucking her face into his shoulder. He glanced over at you, and you both shared comedically deep frowns to reflect the bittersweet moment. “Your parent works hard for you, Wren,” he reasons with the young girl, gently patting her back.

“But I want you to live here too!” She wails, nearly choking on her sobs. Max pulls back, encouraging her to take deep breaths with a little smile.

“Honey,” You begin, moving to sit beside both of them. Your shoulders brush against Max’s, and your eyes lock with your daughter’s. “Max has his own home he stays in, he can’t live here.” You, of course, would love for him too, but you also had your reservations about it. It had only been two months, and moving in together seemed like it would progress things a lot faster than intended.

“Maybe I can stay the night,” he suggests, and you smile and nod at Wren who seems to light up at the idea.

“Yes!” She cheered weakly, still recovering from her hysterics. “And then in the morning… We could have pancakes!”

“We sure could,” he agrees. “I’ll stay more often, and maybe you both can come stay at my house too.”

“Did you know Max has two cats?” You stand up, and he takes the hint to do the same, carrying your daughter as you slowly make your way back up to her bedroom.

“Really?”

“I do, and you can play with them as much as you’d like.”

The chatter continued as you opened the door to her bedroom, stepping aside so he could lay her down on her bed, decorated like that of a princess. You lean against the door frame, watching as he sits in the rocking chair next to the bed and accepts the book she handed him.

When the lights go out and the book closes, Wren is fast asleep, this time with a big smile and the hopes of tomorrow in her mind. Max shuts the door behind him, greeting you with a big grin in the hallway. “See? All better,” he leans in for a quick peck, his hands settling on your hips, and yours settle on his chest.

“Yeah,” you hum and nod. He can sense your hesitation, even as you both move down the hallway towards your own room. You can feel his eyes boring into your soul. He doesn’t even have to ask. “I just feel like I’m failing.”

“You’re not.” He immediately responds, helping you sit back on the bed before climbing in beside you. You roll over to lay on his chest, and his arm wraps around you securely. You stare at the ceiling that’s invisible in the dark. “And she’s not a bad kid, either. It’s just hard for you both, and that’s okay.” He kisses your head. “It’s okay to need help.”

“Thank you…” You whisper, closing your eyes as sleep begins to creep up on you.

“Of course.” He whispers back. Right before you drift into sleep, you hear him whisper again, “I’ll always be here to help. I love you.”

“I love you too,” your words are barely incoherent. You then doze off.

When you awoke, the bed beside you was completely empty. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You could faintly hear Max’s voice, mixed in with your daughter’s. The pair was quite loud.

“Not like that!” Most definitely your bossy child.

“What? How do I do it then?”

“Like this.”

“Ohhh, okay well then they get two. One from me, one from you.”

You could only assume they were talking about you. You slowly climbed out of bed and made your way into the kitchen, following the scent of delicious breakfast. There you were met with a painfully adorable sight. Both had their backs to you, tending to pancakes. Wren was standing on a stool, holding a small spatula while Max had a large one. You watched them collaborate to flip one pancake, cheering at the success.

“What’s going on in here?” You ask, smiling when they whip around to face you. Max had terrible bed head, and his pajama pants hung low on his hips while his shirt clung to his muscular form. Wren was still in her PJ’s, although some sort of red liquid had splattered all over it. Your mind immediately assumed the worst, but it was too vibrant to be blood.

“We made you pancakes!” The girl cheers, holding up a plate. Your mind connects the dots, and you laugh. They had dyed separate batter to form red hearts in the center, which would explain why she was covered in it.

“How sweet.” You walked over, accepting the plate with two pancakes. One had a beautifully done heart, while the other was… Well, we can just say it was more anatomically correct. You knew that was Wren’s. You set the plate down for a moment, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s waist and resting your chin on his shoulder. “Thank you,” you whispered, kissing his jawline.

“Ew!” Wren squealed, covering her eyes.

You both laughed, and Max whispered back, “Anytime.”

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dannyriccsystem · 2 days ago

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VULNERABLE.

OSCAR PIASTRI X READER

SUMMARY: Oscar thought that he was always supposed to be calm and emotionless, but that all changes when he starts dating you: a comforting and caring lover who helps him open up.

WORD COUNT: 806

WARNINGS: Hurt with comfort, fluff, reader is so mentally strong I’m jealous

FEATURING: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Your boyfriend was always calm and collected. He kept a composed demeanor in the face of thrill and danger, even when everything around him was erupting in utter chaos. He was the exact same way growing up, too. No matter what drama his family was suffering through, or the riffs his friends would get in at school, Oscar remained to be the chill voice of reason through it all.

Even now as his own team is screwing him over and fucking up his entire racing career, Oscar seems so polite and well spoken. His PR team always praises him so highly, because rarely does anyone have to worry about Oscar Piastri causing a scene and making a fuss out of something the rest of the team deemed to be ‘minor’.

When you started dating, you fell for his demeanor. But you also fell for the potential you saw in Oscar, because you knew from the start there was more to him than being well versed in etiquette and always saying the right things. He’d let himself slip every now and then, usually just around you. He’d crack a joke only he found funny and wouldn’t even shrink away when you didn’t laugh, because he was proud of his words. Or when he’d cuss someone out when telling you a story— Even if he always apologized afterwards, you’d never forget hearing him swear so much in such a short amount of time.

But you respected his decision to stay so quiet, and you loved that side of him too.

But today was different— When you met him at the airport, standing there in a modest outfit as it was early in the morning, you wore a grim expression as he pulled you into the scheduled hug, kissing your cheek with practiced patience. “What’s wrong?” He’d say as if everything was perfectly fine, still holding you tight. Tighter than usual without even realizing.

“Aren’t you upset?” You’d ask, one brow raised. He’d mimic your confusion. “I mean, that was awful. They really screwed you over, Osc.”

He would just hum and think about it for a moment. “Yeah, well… P4’s not bad.” That was the end of that, because he was quick to change the subject by asking how your weekend was. You’d huff a sigh, but comply with his fast-moving conversation as you walked back to the car with him by your side.

But it lingered in your mind. As you were finishing folding your laundry, with Oscar there to fill the air with quiet conversation as he handed you every piece of clothing, you suddenly interrupted him, “You should be mad.”

“What?” He was obviously confused. “About the hotel room? No, it’s cool. I mean, two beds for the price of one… I just pushed them together and slept on a huge mega bed. It was kind of great.”

“No, not about that,” You gave a soft smile at his rather dorky reaction. “I mean about the race. About your team.”

“Ah,” he shrugged as he handed you one of your shirts. “I really don’t mind. I mean, it’s just one mistake.”

“But it’s not. They’ve been doing this…” You don’t want to seem pushy, but you also want him to know that expressing your feelings is okay. “Osc, do you ever get angry? I mean… Loudly. Publicly.”

“Well…” He pauses, unsure of what to say. “I mean, yeah.”

“It never seems like it.”

“Everyone says I’m emotionless,” he says, his expression blank like he’s not sure how to present it as anything else. “I just kind of… Go along with it.”

“You’re not, though. I know you’re not. You’re full of laughter and love and sadness and anger and— and all these things that make you so human!” You realize that you’re getting a bit emotional, so you take a deep breath. “I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t express yourself, especially to me.”

Oscar stares at you, and then he suddenly looks down. “I don’t think I’m mad,” his voice is soft and weak. “I just feel… Kind of lost. I love racing, but the more it’s ruined for me the less fun I have.” He sighs, sitting down on the edge of the couch. You sit beside him, forgetting about the laundry for the time being. “I don’t like being the next iceman. I’m not emotionless.”

“I know, my love,” You say encouragingly, kissing his cheek. He smiles, melting into your touch.

“I’m so used to being the problem solver that it feels weird to explain my own,” he looks at you, your eyes locking. You can’t help but smile, and it seems he feels the same. Oscar leans in, pressing his lips to yours softly. The kiss is short but sweet.

“You can always come to me, Osc. Always.”

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dannyriccsystem · 2 days ago

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the max fic has me biting my arm rn it's so hot hsisbdjdnfkkc Z YOUR MIND!!! sending kisses and chocolate (👀) your way - the size difference was sooooo hot (the bulge 😶😶😶 give me 14 of em) I'm such a sucker for aphrodisiac stories and this hit the spot 💙💙💙

- 🐟

I SQUEAL! THANK YOU i was actually like shaking and about to explode while writing it It was like

a series of emotions

i need to write Max more tbh because he’s actually one of my favs!! but you wouldn’t tell with how rare his appearances are

I need that man in a way that, if described, would destroy society and all that it stands for

#🐟anon.jpeg #z’s comments

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dannyriccsystem · 3 days ago

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“oh oscar is ken, lando is ken, george is ken” LIAM. WHAT ABOUT LIAM.

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #liam lawson #ll30 #z’s comments #LITERALLY TWINNING

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dannyriccsystem · 3 days ago

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zizi, you're feeding my delusions 😭😭.

i can't see lando as a dad for now but--- him as an uncle. that one uncle the kids love and the reader is the gf and seeing lando with children puts her in suuuuch a baby fever. omg i will die i don't even like little children why am i like that 😭😭😭.

oscar is such a girl dad, i can't.

— 🌱.

MAYBE WE CAN SLEEP IN

LANDO NORRIS X READER

SUMMARY: When Lando Norris finally meets Oscar’s new baby, his girlfriend can’t help but fixate on a potential future together.

WORD COUNT: 986

WARNINGS: Talk of pregnancy, reader gets baby fever, mature ending (no actual smut), Oscar is a dad + Lily’s a mom :)

FEATURING: Lando Norris x Reader

“Congratulations on such a healthy pregnancy, Lily.” You wear a grin as you sit beside the other woman, watching her own tired face lift into a matching smile. You heard the first weeks of parenthood were always rough with sleep, but seeing her now was living proof. But even then, she was glowing. She looked incredibly happy.

She lifted her glass of water, carefully sipping the ice cold beverage. “Thank you,” she replied, eyes darting over to your boyfriends. Oscar was gently cradling a bundle of pink blankets, and within his arms lay a snoozing baby, barely two months old. Lando was hovering, his eyes not daring to leave the child’s chubby face. You followed her gaze, nearly melting at the scene. “I’m just glad everything went smoothly.”

“I bet.” She had looked away finally, but your eyes were still pinned on your boyfriend. You were encapsulated by the look of wonder and awe on his face— A rather boyish expression. You watched as Oscar held his arms out, successfully handing his newborn over to Lando, who immediately softened up. He held her to his chest, hands rubbing smooth circles along her back. He stared down, unable to hold back the grin on his face.

“I can’t believe he managed to convince Osc to give him up,” she joked lightly. “He barely lets his own mum hold her.” You giggle under your breath. You tilt your head. Lando coos softly, one finger poking the baby girl’s nose. You heard her exclaim in a sort of half-laugh half-cry manner, a small hand weakly wrapped around his index finger. “Well, your boyfriend’s a natural.”

“Good to know,” you whisper, finally breaking your staring streak. It was hard to look away from such a heartwarming sight, but the longer you looked the more you felt an unwelcome sensation settle in your stomach.

You wanted that.

You continued to gossip with the new mother, free from her responsibilities for just a moment while visitors happily held her baby in turns. Eventually Oscar came back over with Lando in tow, the child cradled in the younger man’s arms once more. He smiled. “Do you want to hold her, Y/N?”

You were somewhat hesitant. You had never really thought about children before, and while they were cute, you lacked a lot of experience with the really young ones. However, you nodded and got comfortable in your chair before accepting the small bundle of joy. Your hesitation was immediately pushed aside when you looked down to see an adorable, chubby, sleeping face. “She looks more like her mom,” you comment, making the parents of the child occupying your arms laugh.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says,” Oscar replies with a hint of playful bitterness in his tone.

Lando sat on the love seat beside you, one arm around your shoulder as he looked down at the baby, and then to you. He leaned in, kissing your cheek. “She’s cute, huh?”

“Very.”

When the night officially ended, you had spent the ride home staring out the window as Lando drove, his hand resting casually on your thigh like it always had. You watched the city lights of Monaco race on by. A familiar sight, but still a beautiful one. Lando had picked up your quiet behavior, but wasn’t sure how to comment on it without upsetting you.

He sighed, gently squeezing the muscle on your leg, and then he hummed. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hm?”

“You look lost in thought,” he says despite not looking away from the road. “Something happen?”

“No, just… Thinking,” you shrug, brushing his question off.

He doesn’t pry, and the rest of the car ride is silence. Aside from your music playing over the speakers softly.

You’re subconsciously pacing around the apartment, looking for something to occupy you. Lando’s sat on the couch, leaned back as he watches TV. You study his figure from afar— Sharp jawline, nice nose, tan skin, curly mullet, pretty eyes. He’s muscular, hard-working, and defined. If he had a daughter, she’d be beautiful.

You slowly approach him, climbing onto his lap without any warning. He smiles up at you rather boyishly, his hands finding your hips. “What’s all this about?” He inquires, kissing your cheek in a sneaky manner. You smile, turning away to tease him when he goes for the lips. “Hey!”

“Lando,” you interrupt, grabbing his full attention. He leans back, hands falling to the couch at his sides. You run one hand through his hair, watching him melt like a cat as you carefully scratch his scalp. “Have you ever thought about…” You trail off, unsure of how to word your thoughts.

“About what?” He raises your other hand, kissing your knuckles reassuringly. He doesn’t know what you’re gonna say, but he can see that it’s not something easy.

“Having kids.” The words feel heavy as they leave your mouth. Lando’s quiet, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. In fact, it was so quiet that’s all you could hear. “I mean— Probably not right now, but… Eventually.”

“Of course I do.” You’re surprised at this. “When I saw you today, holding that baby, that’s all I could think about. You’d be a fantastic parent one day, and I hope that I can be a fantastic dad for our child.”

“You will be,” You sniffle, turning your head to wipe the tears threatening to spill. Lando chuckles, gently guiding you back to look at him and then brush them away with his index finger. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he kisses you, and you’re swept away by how gentle and considerate it is. “You know, maybe we should get a head start.” He grabs your thighs firmly, hoisting you up with ease as he stands. You yelp, legs wrapping around his waist and hands on his shoulders. “Let’s make a baby.”

“Weirdo.”

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dannyriccsystem · 3 days ago

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I’LL GIVE YOU MY BODY.

MAX VERSTAPPEN X READER

SUMMARY: Your friend gave you and Max a gift in honor of your marriage, but decided it’d be a grand idea to not tell you the ingredients. You and your newly wed husband unintentionally take an aphrodisiac, and things unfold from there.

WORD COUNT: 1.5K

WARNINGS: Smut, aphrodisiacs, scent kink, size kink, dom!max who whimpers, making you work for it

FEATURING: Max Verstappen x Reader

NOTE: I’m ovulating this was 100% necessary

“You know, this is our first official movie night as husband and wife,” you say as you shuffle around the kitchen, opening all the cupboards to check for appropriate snacks. Max is already pouring cheap microwave popcorn into a bowl, a cheesy smile on his face. At first he was against marriage. Not because he didn’t want to be closer to you, but because he didn’t see the point. However, he was incredibly grateful for the experience of getting to see you wearing the ring he bought first thing every morning.

“Yeah, it is,” he chuckles, setting the bowl down to walk up behind you, one arm around your waist as he kisses your head. “Are you gonna say this for everything now? First time as a married couple, I don’t know… Going to the store.”

“Absolutely.” He slides away from you, opening the fridge for beverages. Movie night was a very sacred ritual for you two, which meant you always went all out. “What are we in the mood for— We got so much food from the wedding.” You hum. “Let’s see… Oh, what about these chocolates from Alexandra?”

“They look pretty fancy, I don’t know.”

“It’s for a special occasion!”

He rolled his eyes, playfully sighing. “Alright, fancy chocolates it is.”

You guys got situated on the couch together, your snacks sprawled out on the coffee table before you. You were quick to undo the silk ribbon that held the chocolate box together. You lifted the red lid, pulling out two small chocolate squares wrapped in foil, sitting in the soft padding of tissue paper. You locked eyes with Max, and you both shrugged before unwrapping the foil carefully.

On top of the chocolate was a heart design, along with other intricate carvings. You tapped the pieces together, announcing “cheers” in unison before ingesting. Max, of course, ate it all in one go while you nibbled the corner before deciding it was good enough to finish the rest. You leaned in for a short kiss, smiling innocently when you pulled away.

When you hit play on the movie and leaned back against his chest, his arm slung over your shoulder, you felt fairly average. But as the seconds ticked away, you began to notice the change.

You pressed your thighs together subconsciously at first, desperate for any sort of tension there. A warm feeling settled in your tummy, spreading to your flushed cheeks as you sucked in a slow breath. Were you growing feverish? You felt fine, aside from the irresistible ache between your legs. You steadied your breathing, eyes shut as you tried to focus elsewhere.

“God,” your husband whispered shakily, his nose suddenly nuzzling against your neck after pushing any hair aside. You shudder, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up straight. “Do you always smell this good? Jesus, you smell… Fucking amazing.”

“Max?” You breathe out, your tone somewhat dazed. His hands slide over your stomach, inching their way up your shirt. You gasp as his fingers press down on your tummy, making your thighs shift uncomfortably. “Are you hot?”

“Yes,” he seethed, pressing a sloppy kiss to your skin. “So hot. I just wanna… Jus’wanna touch you. All over.”

You swing yourself around onto his lap, straddling him. He’s aching through his sweats, a noticeable tent forming in the grey fabric. You grind your hips against his, whining pathetically as your needy cunt receives that delicious friction.

“If you don’t stop…” He shudders, leaning into your neck again. But his lips trail to your collarbone, nipping the skin. “Holy shit, why do you smell so fucking good?” His tongue darts out, running across your sweet, salty skin. “Let me touch you, princess. Please- Need to feel your skin.”

“Yes, fuck… Touch me,” you plead, your fingers scrambling to pull your shirt off over your head. Max nods desperately, his fingers assisting you in your endeavors. He groans when your braless tits heave as you suck in a sharp breath, nipples immediately perk after a cold breeze washes over you. But you’re oh-so hot. Your skin is practically burning even as you shiver.

His hands wander aimlessly before Max dives in, his lips hungry as he kisses you. Your hands find his hair, pulling him closer as you passionately exchange kisses. Your lips move in sync, tongue running along his lips just to tease.

He starts to toy with the waistband of your shorts, which then turns into him nearly ripping them just to get them down to your ankle on one leg. He pulls the waistband of your panties back, snapping it against your skin when he decides he’s not patient enough to go through that again. He shoves your panties aside, running his fingers over your folds.

“Gotta be inside you now,” He looks down, carefully pulling his oversensitive cock out with one hand, all because you’re currently grinding against the fingers of his other one. He spits on his cock, stroking it once before he’s pulling your hips down, cunt engulfing his length. “Shit— Shit!” His voice cracks, and his hips jerk as he stalls himself halfway in. “Warm— So fucking warm, I can’t—”

“C’mon, need more,” you whine, hands on his shoulders. You push yourself down through his stuttered, unapologetically loud moans until he’s buried to the hilt, his pubes pressed against your folds. You can feel every ridge and vein of his cock pressed against the sensitive walls of your insides.

“What was in that fuckin’ chocolate?” He pants as he slowly ruts his hips up into you, holding onto your waist to keep you in place. It’s taking every nerve, bone, and muscle in his body to refrain from using you like his personal fleshlight and pumping into you like a crazed animal. Too far? My bad.

“Gonna have to thank Alex,” he lets out a breathy laugh at your statement, his fingers gripping you. Nails digging into your skin.

“Fuuuck,” He groans, eyes trailing down. “Look at that— Can see myself in you,” He whispered as his fingers trailed over your stomach. Over the slight bulge, outlining his dick. He shudders and fucks into you, making you clench around him, which then makes him whine. “Not fucking fair. Pussy’s so… So tight.”

“Need more, Max. Need… Need you to go faster.” He stares into your eyes, still processing what you’ve said before the gears start turning. He holds your hips, and suddenly he’s lifting you up and down, slamming into you simultaneously.

“Come on, work those legs… Ride my cock,” He whispers, watching your pussy engulf him again and again, forming a creamy ring around the base. Max’s mouth falls agape as a raspy moan makes its way out. At this point, they were likely falling upon the ears of your neighbors. Neither one of you were in the state of mind to care.

He lets go, and you whine as you have to do the work yourself. He leans his head back, large hands running down to your thighs and squeezing them encouragingly. You grip his shoulders for support, pushing down with every lift of the hips. Your hips shudder, and your legs tremble as you feel your orgasm begin to rise.

You press your nose against his jawline, licking the defined muscle before leaving a sloppy kiss there, trailing down just below to his pulse. He smirked, eyes shut. “‘M close,” you mumbled into his skin. His thick cock was hitting all the right points— The tip slamming into the spongy part of your inner walls, making you squirm in all the right ways.

“Gotta fill you up,” He groaned, lazily lifting his head back up, locking eyes with you. You shivered, eyes nearly going cross as a pleasant sensation creeped towards the forefront of your mind. You were right on the edge, and then—

“Max— Fuck!” You pressed your face into his neck, gently biting his skin as you came around his cock. He continued to plunge into you, grunting with every thrust and murmuring incoherent praises.

“Coming,” he finally groaned, pulling your head back to press his forehead against yours, his eyes shut and mouth open as he panted and gasped for air. His cock twitched, balls tightening before pumping you full of his cum. You both stayed there for a moment, your legs convulsing from your orgasm as he held you steady from below. You two gasped for air, chests heaving in sync.

He slowly pulled out of you and wrapped his arms around your waist, rolling to the side to lay down on the couch with you tucked away into his chest on top of him.

“Might have to ask Alexandra where she got that chocolate,” he whispers. You can tell the effects have yet to wear off based on the painfully erect cock pressed against your still-sensitive folds.

“If I can ever get away from you,” you tease as you kiss his collarbone, earning a chuckle from your husband.

“Break’s over already?” He shifted, propping himself up on his elbows. “I need you bent over this time.”

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