#anyways leg day going pretty okay

[sevens-evan]

first time ever squatting with clips and it actually does feel a lot better. crazy how that works

[every-sanji]

[zincbot]

first workout after top surgery had me flying high all day

[milo-is-rambling]

Was high and sleepy but remembered I hadn’t taken my pill yet so I got out of bed and ate even tho I didn’t want to and then took my meds and also remembered that my sheets were in the drier and then put them on my bed everyone be proud of me

[imaginedisish]

Dare (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys. Just wanted to say thank you for all the support I got this morning. All of your comments really warmed my heart. Thank you so, so, so much. I ended up getting this done pretty fast. Went with "Dare" by Gorillaz for the title. Made me feel better to write. I like this one. Hope you do, too. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan finds out you've never been eaten out while playing a game of "Truth or Dare," and he's more than willing to change that.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, softdom!Logan, pussydrunk!Logan (he does not let up, he is starving for you), older!Logan, implied aged gap (reader is in her 20s/old enough to teach at the institute), cocky!Logan, he is an absolute service dom in this, friends to lovers, mentions of mental health/self worth, fluff, some hurt to comfort, some angst, afab/fem!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,235 wowza didn't expect that and oh my god this gif

You’re lying on your floor—the door to your room wide open. Everyone is out anyway. It’s Friday night at the mansion—no one will see you like this. Students’ papers are scattered around you. You stare up at the ceiling, feeling choked up. It had been a bad day—a bad week. Maybe even a bad year. You feel like you’re slipping, losing yourself. 

Teaching the older students had become beyond challenging—possibly because you aren’t much older than them in the first place. Most days, it felt like everyone expected greatness from you, given the strength of your powers, which naturally comes with responsibility, and that can be incredibly overwhelming. It had all been—if you were being brutally honest—an absolutely terrible time. 

So, you’re lying on your floor, feeling numb. You stopped grading papers at least an hour ago, and simply decided to stare at the ceiling, your head spinning. You wanted to calm the noise, to take a breather. Luckily, you’re alone—everyone is on a mission or out given that it’s Friday night. 

Or so you thought. 

“What on Earth are you doing?” A familiar voice cuts through the silence like a knife, jarring you, and forcing you to look up. And there he is, in a white t-shirt and denim jeans, arms crossed tightly against his chest, leaning in the doorway. Logan. You want to roll your eyes at how good he looks. You want to slap yourself for thinking it in the first place.

He smirks at you, his brows furrowed playfully. You let your head fall back to the floor. “Grading papers,” you mutter. You can hear his footsteps as he walks into the room, drawing closer to you. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re grading papers to me,” he teases. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Why aren’t you out with Jean or Rogue?” 

He stands next to you, and you look up at him. “Didn’t feel like it,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit up. You draw your knees into your chest. You decide to turn the question around on him. “Why aren’t you out?”

He sits down next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles in. He shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?” He jokes, nudging his elbow into your arm. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. It’s impossible to fight it when he’s next to you. Your eyes meet his, and his smile quickly turns into something else—concern. “You’ve been off lately.”

You swallow harshly. “Did Jean or Rogue say something?” You ask. They’d notice, maybe they told Logan. “Did they ask you to stay with me or something?”

But Logan shakes his head. “No. I could just tell,” he says, worry clear in his voice. “Thought I’d hang back with you. All my idea.” He tilts his head, his jaw working, his brows furrowing again. “Is something going on?” 

You take a deep breath, turning away from him. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by his presence, by his kindness and his care. He stayed home for you. “I’m okay,” you mutter, avoiding the truth. 

“Hey,” Logan whispers, tentatively reaching his hand to your knee, waiting for you to shove him away. His palm is warm against your skin, calming and stabilizing. You turn back to look at him, his brows raised incredulously. “I know that’s not true,” he says. He has always been able to read you like a book. “What’s going on?”

You swallow harshly. “I’ve just been having a tough time lately,” you say, distracted by the way his thumb brushes across your knee. “I…” You trail off, letting your eyes fall closed. “Things are hard.”

“You can talk about it if you want,” he says, his voice deep and steady. “I’m here.” 

You sniffle, struggling to keep yourself in check. “I just…” you pause, looking off to the side. “Everything sucks.” You take another deep breath. “And the students are so hard.” You point to the piles of papers scattered around your floor. “And then there’s me, and all my shit. My powers. The responsibilities we have. I’m young, and I’m still learning. And fuck, Logan, this all just feels so impossible sometimes. It…it…” You trail off, finally running out of words, out of steam.

“It hurts.” He finishes your sentence, taking the words right out of your mouth. You turn back towards him, your eyes instantly meeting his. “It hurts a lot.”

You nod. “Yeah, exactly.” He squeezes your knee comfortingly. “You get it,” you murmur. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothes, his hand lifting off your knee, his arm wrapping around your shoulder instead. “I’ve got you.” You let yourself lean into his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Let’s take your mind off things, yeah?”

You nod against him, not wanting to move away, not wanting to separate from him. He feels so nice, so solid. “What did you have in mind?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t involve getting up.

“Wanna play a game?” He offers, turning his head to look down at you. You smile widely, almost mockingly. “What?” He chides. “You think I don’t know how to have fun?”

You laugh softly. “I just don’t see you as a game guy, Lo,” you confess. He chuckles, and you can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest. “Can you even think of one to play?”

Logan’s still laughing, shaking his head. “What about truth or dare?” He ever so slightly pulls you in closer, his lips pressed against the side of your head. 

You giggle, feeling light for the first time in a long time. “Are we in seventh grade?” You ask teasingly. You felt like a teenager, honestly—being next to Logan always made you feel like a love-sick schoolgirl. But you know you and him could never be. You were younger than Logan—everyone was—but you, being in your 20s, assume that Logan doesn’t see you the way you see him. 

He just shakes his head and laughs, pulling you back to reality. “Truth or dare?” He asks, ignoring your middle school comment and officially starting the game. 

You don’t want to get up, don’t want to move an inch, so you answer: “Truth,” hoping it isn’t anything too crazy. 

Logan thinks for a second, his head resting on yours. “Why’d you pick truth instead of dare?” He finally asks. 

You roll your eyes. “Boring!” You tease. “I only picked it because I don’t feel like moving.” And then you realize…perhaps your answer is more revealing than you previously considered. Your heart thunders in your chest. 

Logan hums. “And why don’t you want to move, exactly?” He’s onto you. 

“You asked your question, you got an answer,” you protest, trying to shut him down. “No follow-up questions.” It’s your turn now. “Truth or dare?” You ask. 

“Truth,” he says. “Because maybe I don’t feel like moving either.”

You smile, and you can feel him looking down at you. You’re too nervous to meet his gaze. You think for a moment, racking your brain for a question. “Did you really stay home for me, and was it all your own idea?” You finally ask. You regret the question almost immediately, fearful of the honest answer. 

“Yes,” he responds without a beat. “Jean said you were staying in, and said she didn’t know why, so I stayed too.” He pauses, and you can hear his steady breathing amidst the silence. “I was worried, princess.” The pet name burns a hole through your heart. “Needed to know that you were okay.”

You can feel tears building behind your sinuses. “Thank you, Lo,” you whisper. “That means a lot.”

He presses the ghost of a kiss to the crown of your head—almost not quite there. But you can feel it, hesitant and tentative. “It’s nothing, no need to thank me.” You finally find the courage to look up at him and find him smiling down at you. His lips part. “Truth or dare?” He asks again. 

You can feel some sort of tension brewing, building, thick and heavy. You try to ignore it, try to brush it off. Your heart hammers in your chest. “Truth,” you pick again. “But get a little more creative this time.”

He pauses, the gears in his head turning. And then finally: “Why’s your heart beating so fast? It’s loud, too.” 

Your eyes widen, suddenly remembering Logan’s heightened senses. He can hear everything. “Uh…” You trail off, not sure how to get out of this. “I-It’s not…”

He laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. You know that?” His voice is deep and honeyed, smooth. “You gotta answer the question, or I get to ask another.”

“Those are not the rules!” You protest, lifting your head to look at him. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that makes your stomach drop. 

He tugs you into his chest again, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Then answer the question,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. He’s so close. Too close. Your heart is only beating faster, louder now. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. But of course, you know. It’s all because of him. “Just anxious, I guess.” It’s a half-truth—you’re certainly nervous, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him why. 

“No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” Logan coos, his thumb brushing circles into your shoulder. “It’s just me.”

Yes, exactly, you want to say. It’s you. But you don’t. You try to steady your breathing, try to calm down. “My turn,” you force yourself to say. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he says darkly. “And make it good.” You can hear the cockiness in his voice—a sudden shift in his tone. 

“We should just call this truth or truth,” you say, mulling over a question in your mind. It’s hard to think with him this close—hard to breathe. You want to rile him up, to find out what makes him tick—to make him itch the way he makes you. And then it hits you: the perfect question. “When was the last time you…” You stop yourself, suddenly too nervous to ask. 

“When was the last time I what, darlin’?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. 

You huff. You’ve fallen into your own trap. There’s no backing out now. “When was the last time…” You pause again, biting your lip. You close your eyes. “…somebody got you off?” 

“Been a while,” he says simply. Your eyes flutter open, and Logan is completely relaxed, his eyes trained on you. He isn’t annoyed. He’s unbothered, unprovoked, as if you had asked him what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. “But it depends on how you mean. So, what do you mean?” He finishes. 

You’re slightly frustrated by how easy it was for him to answer. “I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. “Whatever the last time was.”

“Few years back, not particularly proud of it,” he huffs. “Girl took care of me in a bar. That was it.” 

You nod. “Must’ve been nice,” you whisper, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened. You catch his drift; you know it didn’t mean anything. You likely didn’t know Logan at that time, having only arrived at the Institute two years ago. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous, shouldn’t care that he was ever with someone else, even for a fleeting moment. You’ve had boyfriends. You’ve been with other people. 

“It was fine. Just a blowjob.” He says it nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean a thing.” You look straight ahead, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t. “Truth or dare?” He finally asks. 

“Truth.” Your fake, plastered-on smile becomes real when his eyes meet yours. It’s just what happens when you look at him. “And make it interesting.”

The corner of his mouth turns up slyly, and you know he has something up his sleeve. “When was the last time somebody did that to you?” He asks. 

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?” But you already know exactly what he’s asking. And you desperately do not want to give him the answer.

“Got you off, like that,” he husks. “With their mouth.”

Fuck. “Uh…” You trail off. You can feel heat spreading across your chest and up your neck, your skin prickling. “Never,” you say honestly. 

“What?” Logan’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Never?”

You’re suddenly embarrassed. Your skin feels tight—so do your shorts and tank top. “Never,” you repeat, looking down at your knees, still pulled in tightly to your chest. Your heart beats rapidly. “Just hasn’t happened yet,” you choke out. “I’ve been with people, but…”

“Hey,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your chin and angling you up to face him. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, princess.”

You smile shyly, reveling in his touch. “You didn’t,” you insist honestly. “Just a little embarrassed.”

Logan shakes his head, his eyes softening. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assures. “You deserve to be taken care of.” His hand slides across your jaw and cups the back of your neck. “Deserve to feel good.”

Your eyes flutter closed at his touch. “Lo,” you whisper, struggling to keep your composure. Heat pools between your thighs. “Tr-truth or dare.”

His forehead presses to yours. “I think we’re done with the game, pretty girl,” he rasps, the arm around your shoulder slipping down to your waist. “Unless I get to give you a dare this time.”

“What’s the dare?” You ask, your eyes fluttering back open. His lips are so close. Your noses touch softly.

He works his jaw, licking his lips. “Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pants, his chest heaving against yours. “Let me take care of you like you should’ve been already.” He hates the idea that you’ve never been touched properly, the idea that those younger guys didn’t know how to treat you right. But he can fix that. He can make you feel good.

“Fuck,” you curse, his breath fanning across your lips. “A-are you sure?” You ask. “I don’t want you to do it just because you feel bad for me or—” “You think that’s what this is about?” He cuts you off, pulling you closer so that your body faces his, your thighs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “You think I want this just because I feel bad for you?”

“Well…” You search his eyes. “Yes,” you say. 

Logan’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “I want you, pretty girl,” he pants, his knee rubbing against your aching core. “Wanted you this whole time.” His palm presses firmly against your back, his other hand gripping your neck tighter. He wants, no, needs you closer. “You ruined me the second I saw you. Haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“Logan,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to his neck. “I want you too. Always have,” you confess.

He smiles, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to yours. “Then let me do this for you,” he rasps, almost begging, like he needs this more than you do. “Need to make you feel good, beautiful.” “Please,” you breathe. “Want you so bad, Lo.”

He curses under his breath, his lips capturing yours, harder this time. This kiss is starving, all-consuming. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, and you open your mouth, inviting him inside. He lowers you down carefully, sure not to break the kiss, guiding your back to the wood floor below. 

His thighs rest on either side of your hips as he hovers over you, bracing himself with his forearm. His free hand trails up your body, exploring your curves, hiking your shirt above your breasts. He smirks against your lips at the realization that you have no bra on. 

“Look at you,” he mumbles, rolling a nipple under his thumb, palming your breast. “Fucking perfect.” His fingertips drag to the other side, massaging you gently, taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching softly. “Can smell you, you know,” he grunts. “Know you’re soaking for me, darlin’.”

His hand slides between the valley of your breasts, trailing down your stomach, until his fingertips bump into the waistband of your panties. He hesitates, looking down at you, waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him to stop. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

Logan smirks, his hand slipping under the hem of your shorts and inside your panties. “Love it when you call me that, sweetheart,” he groans. His fingertips flick your clit gently before finding your folds, feeling your arousal. “Barely even touched you,” he tuts. “And she’s already crying for me.”

He prods your entrance, spreading your slick, teasing you. He bites your lips, sucking so hard he might bruise—might draw blood—and you hope he does. You want proof that he was here, proof that he wants you—needs you this badly. You moan as his fingers find your clit again, drawing a few soft circles before pulling away, his hand slipping out of your shorts. 

You grab his biceps needily, impatiently, your nails digging into his skin. “Don’t stop,” you cry out. “Please, Logan.” 

He swallows your moans with another kiss, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck—that sensitive spot just under your ear. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he soothes, biting down on your pulse point, licking the hollow of your throat. “Don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He nips at your collarbone, shoving your tank top further up your chest as his lips drag down the valley of your breasts. 

He kisses his way to your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your legs. His palms spread across your inner thighs, yanking them apart. He settles between them, his face just inches from your heat. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, still all too clothed, hidden behind your panties. 

“Lo,” you whine. He breathes you in, pressing another kiss to your clit. He digs his fingers into the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. 

“Wanna take my time with you, sweetheart,” he grunts, finally throwing your panties to the side. He spreads your legs wider, his face settling back between your thighs. You can feel his breath against your cunt, warm and teasing. “Wanna take care of you.” His lips finally find your clit again, and he licks at you. 

His tongue is soft, warm, wet. He laps at you again, harder this time, and you moan his name. “Fuck,” you curse as he licks a long stripe through your folds and back up to your clit, flicking the bud. Your legs twitch, your hips backing away involuntarily at the newfound pleasure. Logan’s hands slide under your ass, yanking you back to his face. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He mumbles teasingly against you, the vibration of his deep, bassy voice rocking your core. “Not letting you go until I’m done with you, darlin’.”

You curse under your breath as he licks another long, slow stripe through your folds before settling on your clit. His tongue draws gentle circles around the bud, and you can’t hold back the loud moan that falls from your lips. 

“Yeah?” Logan husks between laps. “Feels good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, looking down at Logan, his face buried against your cunt. His eyes are trained on yours, watching your every move, taking in the way you’re squirming for him. “D-didn’t know it would feel this good, Lo.”

“Gonna try something, okay?” He says, his eyes searching yours. You nod emphatically, bracing yourself. His lips wrap around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing the bud as he pulls it into his mouth. And then he sucks, hard. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your back arching off the floor.

He releases the bud, and does it again, sucking harder this time. Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Logan!” You cry out, your nails digging into the floor below, searching for purchase. “Fuck!” He laps at you soothingly, drawing tighter, faster circles around your clit. 

“You okay?” He coos between laps, his tongue swirling rapidly. 

You swallow, meeting his gaze again. The sight of him between your legs, working your clit, his hair a disheveled mess—it’s overwhelming. “Yeah,” you heave. “More than okay.”

He smirks against you and wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking on the bud like hard candy. His right hand slides out from under your ass, trailing up your inner thigh. Your heart thunders in your chest as his fingertips find your folds, spreading your slick, your walls clenching down around nothing. 

“Know you need ‘em, pretty girl,” Logan croons, two fingers nudging your entrance. “Beg for it.”

But he’s sucking on your clit again, making it impossible to say a word. You whimper, your legs trembling. “P-please,” you stutter, choking on air. “Need…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed. You swallow harshly. “Need your fingers, Lo,” you finally manage. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, shoving two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. 

“Fuck, thank you,” you whine, moaning his name as his fingers stretch you out. You suddenly feel so full, so warm, so close. He pulls out, only to plunge back in, deeper this time. He’s lapping at you with reckless abandon—a man starved, like you’re the air he needs to breathe. Your walls flutter around him, the liquid heat in your lower belly threatening to burst. 

“Tastes so good,” Logan mumbles against you, his long, thick fingers thrusting in and out. He hits that sweet spot deep inside you with every pump. “Such a sweet little pussy. Tastes better than I imagined.” You’re crumbling underneath him. His words alone might push you over the edge. “Nothing compares to you, you know that?”

Your walls flutter again, his fingers sinking deeper inside you. “You like that?” Logan husks. “Like knowing how much I want you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” you groan, his fingers fucking into you, faster now. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud back into his mouth and sucks roughly. “N-need you, too. Always.” 

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, scissoring inside you, dragging along your walls. He laps at you, his tongue stroking your clit. “Not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

You curse under your breath. You can feel yourself melting, your walls contracting and releasing. “Lo,” you call. “I’m so close. Wanna…” You trail off, unable to finish. 

“Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back. Let it happen,” he coaches, rocking into you. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you come on my fingers.” He laps at you between sentences. “Come for me. Know you can do it.” And then everything is white-hot and blazing.

It’s earth-shattering—better than anything has ever felt before. The tension snaps, heat boiling under your skin. Everything is blurry, hazy, dizzied as you let go, and let go hard. You cry out Logan’s name, your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure drag you under. Your bones are burning, scorching. Everything is on fire—overwhelming and greedily all-consuming. 

Logan’s pumps slow, and he carefully pulls out of you. He laves at you, his tongue pushing through your folds, milking you dry, savoring every last drop. 

“Logan,” you whisper, your hands reaching down to his head, digging your fingers into his scalp. 

He hums against you, unwavering as his tongue laps at your folds, tasting your release. 

You’re still shaking, still coming down from your high. “Logan,” you call again, and he looks up this time, lifting his face from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, and he licks his lips clean of you. His eyes are dark, his palms squeezing your thighs possessively. 

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart,” he says, demand clear in his voice. 

Your heart flutters in your chest as he climbs up your body, hovering over you again. His lips find yours. “You taste that?” He mumbles, kissing you again, harder this time. “You taste how sweet you are?”

“Y-yes,” you answer, his hand sliding down your body, slipping between your legs, finding your overstimulated clit. 

He pinches the bud lightly, your back arching off the ground, your breasts pressing to his all-too-clothed chest. “Need more of you,” he husks, his hand dragging back up your body. He sits up and pulls you into his chest, taking all your weight as he hoists you up and stands. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist. 

He places you in the center of your bed before striding across the room, closing and locking your bedroom door. “They’ll all be home soon,” Logan says, walking back towards you, spreading your legs and settling between your thighs. “Might have to be quiet for me, darlin’.”

“W-what do you—”

And then his face is buried deep inside your cunt, his tongue lapping desperately at your clit. “I told you,” he rasps. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

[vraska-theunseen]

yeah i have good coping mechanisms. whenever i'm overstimulated or feel like i'm about to have a meltdown or am in the middle of doing something i don't want to do i just think about how if i want to i can kill myself later. and then i get out of the environment or stop doing the thing and im normal again and have no need to kill myself so it works perfectly

[drugs-and-daddyissues]

𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 You're the pretty little wife of President Coriolanus Snow, but he needs an heir to his legacy, someone to pass the Snow name down to. After all, his children will rule the great nation of Panem one day.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 Snow is his own warning tbh, P in V sex, unprotected sex (wear a condom ya ding dongs), creampie, Snow shoving his cum back in with his fingers, breeding, lowkey possessive Snow, he's kinda down bad for you but that doesn't stop him from being mean to you, dom/sub undertones, dom! Snow, sub! reader

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 Coriolanus Snow x f! reader

"That's it, fucking take it" He grunted as he thrust into you. You were laid down on the bed, with him on top of you, your legs wrapped securely around his waist to keep him here (as if he would even dare pull out). You were moaning with each of his thrusts, his fat cock feeling like it was splitting you open in the best way possible.

He attached his lips to your neck, sucking lightly, marking you as his property. "Mhm, just like that, gonna fill up this tight cunt with my cum, gonna get you pregnant" He mumbled out, pussydrunk on the way you were fucking clenching around him, like you were made for him.

He just kept sliding in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours, the scent of sex and the sound of skin slapping together filing the room. "Feels so good, Coryo, don't stop! Please don't stop!" You cried out as his cock slammed against your g-spot, your gummy walls stretching around his length.

"Not gonna stop, not until I've fucked a baby into you, love" He rasped, his orgasm approaching, and he could tell yours was approaching as well. "You're getting close, hm? It's okay, let it all out baby. Scream my name if you need to" He chuckled, nipping at the skin right beneath your earlobe.

With a loud moan, you came hard around his cock, whimpering all sorts of nonsense as his rhythm didn't relent, going just as hard and as fast as before as he desperately chased his high. "Coyro, fuck.. 's too much" You whined as the overstimulation started to hit you, but he wasn't fucking done with you.

He pulled his face out from your neck, gently brushing your sweat soaked hair off your forehead, "So close, pet, just a little longer. You can handle it, be a good girl for me" He whispered, his cock throbbing inside you, desperate begging for release.

With one final powerful thrust, he emptied his seed into your womb, his rhythm slowing as he kept his cock inside you, acting almost like a plug to keep his cum inside you. "Fuck.. there we go, see?" He placed a soft kiss against your temple, before slowly pulling out. However, he soon replaced that emptiness with two of his fingers.

You panted heavily as you tried to regain your breath. But you were his little pet, and he needed to take care of you. With his free hand, he brushed his fingers through your hair, whispering "How are you feeling?" softly.

"Just gonna keep my fingers in there for a bit, doll, it's okay" He cooed in your ear. You could feel his warm cum inside you, your legs still trembling slightly from your intense orgasm. "'m okay" you weakly answered, melting into his touch as you both laid there, basking in that post-orgasm glow.

He's so toxic but I'm so down bad for him 😞😞 anyways likes n reblogs are highly appreciated!! 🫶

☆ like what you've read? masterlist

[norrisjpg]

novacane - ʟɴ⁴

in which, lando is completely and utterly obsessed with his girlfriend, and can't seem to keep his hands off of her - especially when she's in that dress.

contains: NSFW; smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, body worship, p in v, unprotected sex, squirting, cockwarming; tiny bit of fluff at the end.

lando norris x unnamed female character

...

...

lando thought he was actually going to die. there in rome, he was sure of it. they had been together for two years at this point, and don't get him wrong, she always looked good - but something about the air in rome was making him fall in love with her all over again, and he was going feral.

the couple had decided to spend a few days in italy together, first venice, second maranello, and last rome.

venice had been brilliant, spending a few days with max and pietra, exploring the city together, and many other late night activities. maranello had been nothing if not wholesome, that being where his beloved girlfriend's family lived - lando having rekindled his bromance with her dad and older brother, and not to mention seeing his favourite dog again.

"can you help me with my heels, baby?" her voice snapped him out of his trance.

fucking hell.

she had walked out of the bathroom, looking like a divine treat for him to devour. it was a sundress - her sundresses always did unholy things to him - of course, and her tanned skin looked particularly endearing against the flimsy white material.

his mouth hung agape, eyes flitting over her body rapidly. his mouth could have (and almost did) water at the sight of his girlfriend, looking oh-so-innocent with her pretty eyes and glossy lips.

again, lando thought he was actually going to die.

"yeah, come here." lando gestured with his fingers, getting up so she could perch on the edge of the bed.

he got to his knees before her, grabbing her ankle gently and delicately tightened the clasp until it clung to her skin snugly, repeating the same action on her other ankle.

"thankyou, sweetheart." she responded, running her fingers through his hair briefly.

yep, he was definitely going to die.

...

if he thought he was going to die earlier, he was dead now.

she was sat there, fiddling with the necklace he'd bought her a few months ago, blinking at him through her lashes as she spoke about their plans for the rest of the summer break.

he could have actually fall to his knees in the restaurant right there and then - she looked utterly and completely irresistible.

"can we go now, please?" lando pleaded for around the third time.

he had asked her after they had finished his main course, and then after they'd finished their desserts, and now when they were having another drink.

"god, what's gotten into you?" she laughed as she swallowed the remainder of her wine.

"nothing, i just want to go home." he shrugged, trying not to let her onto the fact he was planning every single thing he was going to do to her once that hotel room door was closed.

"okay, weirdo." she shook her head with another laugh, before politely asking for the bill.

technically, it was her turn to pay for dinner - but lando never let her pay anyway. his credit card was being swiped across the card machine before she could even get hers out of her purse.

"let's go, come on."

...

as soon as that hotel door had latched shut behind her, lando turned into some sort of rabid animal with no self control.

she found herself pinned up against the door very quickly, dress bunched up at her hips as he began his assault on her neck.

“god… needed you since i seen you earlier.” lando murmured, hoisting her legs up around his waist.

“yeah?” she nodded, arching her eyebrows as her eyes fluttered shut.

“mhm.” he hummed, his hand shifting to her lower back as she was then moved to her feet. “look so pretty — turn around for me?”

she spun her heel slowly, allowing lando to effortlessly pull on the delicate white bow, the thin straps loosening and falling below her shoulders. his hand trailed back down her arms, pulling the dress down and allowing it to fall to a puddle at their feet.

“so gorgeous.” he whispered, hot breath fanning the back of her shoulder — before his hands whipped her around to face him again.

"you think?" she responded quietly.

"of course, pretty girl." he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, before spinning her round and walking her backwards to the bed - eye contact very, very intense.

a gentle shove rendered her flat on the bed, propped up on her elbows shortly after her back hit the soft mattress. just as he'd done earlier, lando dropped to his knees and now started to remove her heels.

god, she looked divine.

she was now only wearing the prettiest white lace underwear, but lando was trying not to focus on it - due to the fact that he was painfully hard, and that if he looked at her, all of his self-control would fly out of the hotel door (not that she would have minded that.)

a quick toss of the heels behind him made soft thuds in the room, but lando was already softly kissing up from her ankle to her inner thighs, rendering her unable to think about anything else.

"god..." she breathed out, tossing her head back as he skimmed his nose over the delicate fabric of her panties.

a soft chuckle reverberated through her from lando, he was literally laughing into her pussy - how hot could this man get?

"someone's needy." he whispered, lips brushing against the lace once again, resulting in her clenching around nothing.

"shut up." she whined. "just do something, please?"

"as you wish, baby." he mumbled, tugging her underwear down effortlessly and discarding them across the room.

he was like a man starved, denied of watching his girlfriend squirm underneath him for a mere few hours - that seemed to feel like years.

not that she needed any sort of lube, she was soaking wet by the time lando's thumb circled over her clit agonising slowly, but lando felt it necessary still to let a string of his saliva drip down on her aching cunt, spreading it adequately around with his tongue.

she was just about to beg, but he latched his lips onto her before the pleads could leave her lips. the noises made between his lips and hers were disgustingly hot, his fingers slowly beginning to prod at her entrance, teasing her tightness. his tongue drew shapes on her clit, he was spelling his fucking name, and she was seeing stars when a thick middle finger slid into her.

over and over again the same shapes danced over her heat, and lando slowly began to curl his finger to push against her g-spot. an almost pornographic moan left her lips as she felt the pressure of his index finger alongside his middle finger inside of her - whines and whimpers now a constant sound in the room.

they weren't just from her either, when her hips pushed into his face, lando wasn't ashamed to let a low groan out, the vibrations making her back arch up off of the bed - only for her to quickly be pushed back down by a veiny hand.

"fuck.. lando..." she moaned airly, a hand clutching onto his hair for dear life.

the soft bite to her clit was what sent her over the edge and into space. her legs shook around his head, the most lewd moans tumbling loudly from her lips. he pumped his fingers in and out of her and kitten-licked her through her orgasm, allowing her to float on her cloud of ecstasy for a little longer as she spasmed around him.

"you with me, pretty?" he softly spoke, now having moved his hands from her heat to her ribs, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down.

"yeah." she panted, nodding her head. "so fucking good."

he laughed airily, pressing soft kisses from her lower stomach up to her pillowy lips - swollen from how much she'd bitten down on them over the past few minutes.

their kiss was soft and gentle, she could taste herself on his lips, making her grow all-the-more wet again.

"take this off." she murmured into his lips, making a small noise resembling both a laugh and a whimper leave his lips as she tugged at his shirt.

he began to unbutton his shirt, while her hands frantically made their way down to his dress pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. both items of clothing were quickly a puddle on the floor, his boxers swiftly following.

lando's necklace dangled down and rested just below her chin, then sitting comfortably on the centre of her neck as he kissed her again - teeth clashing and tongues pushing against each other for dominance (lando won, obviously.)

the hand that wasn't holding his body up above her, made its way down to his erection, running it up and down her slit to lube it.

breaking the kiss, the look in his eyes asked her the inevitable, and a quick nod followed.

the tip of his cock pressed into her, still stretching her out. you would have thought that after almost three years of very frequent sex, both would get used to the other - but no, every time they felt each other, it was like the first time all over again.

she quite literally fluttered around him, eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out a few moments later. a low groan escaped his lips, cut short when he realised her eyes were closed.

"hey, eyes open, baby." he whispered, tapping her cheek gently. "want to see the look in your eyes when you fall apart, yeah?"

pretty eyes met his once again as she blinked up at him, some form of a moan leaving her lips as he spoke to her - how could such dirty words come from a man who looked like a fucking angel?

"good girl." he nodded, pressing a small kiss to her nose as he began to slowly thrust in and out.

now, usually, rough sex was lando's thing - but there was something about the way she looked up at him, it made him want to fuck her nice and gentle, slow and deep - so he did.

his strokes were fucking delicious, taming the fire in her lower belly in just the right way - a way that was building the indescribably incredible knot thick and slow. something was different, it was overwhelmingly good - the softest yet neediest moans tumbling from her lips at an almost alarming rate.

maybe every other deep thrust, she'd clench around him, even more blood rushing to his throbbing cock - he wasn't really sure if it was her that was pulsing around him or it was himself, but either way, it felt fucking good.

his lips made their way to her boobs subconsciously, feeling as if he'd neglected them. swirling his tongue around one hard nipple, he slid two fingers inside of her mouth to wet his fingers - before returning them to the nub his mouth wasn't paying delicate attention to, pinching and pressing the pads of his fingers to them.

sensitive from her previous high, the next one was encroaching quickly, warmth spreading to her inner thighs and lower tummy. he could immediately tell she was close. there were tell-tale signs - loud moans would turn to quiet, short, sharp whimpers, she'd become grabby with her hands - needing something to clutch onto as she fell into the abyss of ecstasy - simultaneously clenching around him so tightly that sometimes she'd accidentally restrict his movement - and all were currently taking place.

"go on, pretty girl, cum for me."

she was so gone.

lando's back suffered as her nails scratched into it, leaving red lines painted across the muscles - his trainers wouldn't ask any questions, it's not as if they hadn't seen worse marks before anyway.

she tried so so hard to keep her eyes open, but it was just too hard. her eyes fluttered closed as her mouth hung agape, eyebrows arched as her nose scrunched up a little - lando wanted the image etched onto his retinas.

she gushed all over him, pretty liquid squirting from her cunt, painting his abdomen shiny as the juices splattered on him.

she thought she was going to die, and she would happily like this.

that was actually all it took for him. hot ropes of cum spilled deep into her, stuffed up against her cervix as he tried his hardest to keep thrusting into her - his hips stuttering as he started to get a little overstimulated.

slowly but surely, the two came down from their mind-blowing highs, lando rolling them over so she was laid on top of him, her walls still unconsciously clenching and fluttering around him.

"you good, baby?" he whispered, his hands rubbing up and down her back.

"think so, tired now." she smiled wearily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before letting her head roll down into the crook of his neck.

"want to sleep or clean up?" lando asked softly, running his fingers through her hair.

"sleep, definitely."

[nottsangel]

— porn link.

dating dealer!theo is difficult at times, especially for a girl like you, who requires relatively a lot of attention that he couldn’t always provide given his spontaneous and irregular ‘working’ hours. thankfully for you, he allowed you to join him on his daily adventures. and yes, he was hesitant at first, knowing the dangers of his unusual job, but after all your whining and pleading, he agreed, so now you’re happily accompanying him, going from customer to customer on a busy day. and besides, he prefers to keep an eye on you at all times, knowing it’s easier to protect you with you by his side anyway.

but it was late already, the sun having set hours ago as the eerie moonlight seeps through the blinds of yet another customer’s house. you felt tired, bored, and most of all, suffering from a terrible lack of attention. the chatter between the men goes in one ear and out the other as you sit on theo’s lap, your head resting against his chest while feeling his gun behind the waistband of his pants pressing uncomfortably against your side.

theo, on the other hand, acts as if you are not even in the room, leaving you to sulk as you glare up at him through your eyelashes. he sits back, arms resting relaxed on the couch with his legs wide and his piercing eyes stern and narrowed as he gazes at the men in front of him, a little bag of white powder in one of his hands as he tells them his usual sales pitch. he exudes an air of power, dominance and authority, as his cold and emotionless face is fixed ahead, eyes occasionally darting to the stash of cash on the table.

when the two men momentarily leave the room to discuss further points, you wrap your arms around theo’s neck, trying to get his attention— which is… difficult. “theo, are we almost done? i just— i wanna go home.” you whine for the tenth time that day, clinging to him as you pout and stare at him with your best doe-like eyes. “we’ll be done soon, amore. be a good girl f’me and keep that pretty mouth shut for a little longer, okay? think you can do that?” you nod obediently, yet you let out a defeated sigh. you gaze around the unsettling, dirty room, the awful smell of all kinds of drugs mixed together filling your nostrils as the entire place looks like a mess, and you can’t wait to finally leave.

it’s in the car when he realises that you’re at your limit, as you refuse to talk to him, your arms crossed and an exasperated look on your face. luckily for you, he knows exactly what to do in moments like these. without saying a word, he drags you to the back seat and practically folds you in half with your legs in the air, almost touching the roof of the car, revealing your soaked panties and making you squeal. “okay. i know what’s going on here.”

the same intimidating, power-driven expression doesn’t falter from his handsome face as he rips your black, lace panties apart as if it’s nothing and folds your skirt up, exposing your dripping cunt that has been craving attention all day long. you gaze up at him with desperate eyes, finally about to get what you’ve been yearning for. a gasp escapes you before an abrupt moan slips from your swollen lips as he gives you some well-deserved pussy slaps, evidently relishing your reaction to his touch.

“such a needy fuckin’ slut. can’t even go an hour without some dick, huh?” he growls, practically drooling at the sight of your glistening cunt, feeling himself grow hard as he leans down and suddenly licks your slick arousal, eliciting a choked sob from you. he moans right into your core, never growing weary of your sweet taste, as he pushes your legs further apart, your muscles hurting at the stretch but the pain is quickly overshadowed by his soft lips sucking expertly on your aching clit.

you arch your back at his touch, your hands gripping his brown locks as loud, high-pitched moans escape your mouth and fill the car while he sloppily devours you like it’s his last meal on earth. “so this was all that was needed to get you to shut up? i see.” he murmurs cockily against your cunt as he suddenly slips two fingers in at once, the tip of his digits instantly rubbing against your sweet spot. “next time i’ll make sure to fuck you between every. single. customer, cara mia. gonna make sure you’re dripping with my cum all day long, like the dirty little slut that you are. and i don’t want to hear any fuckin’ complaints, got it?”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[svuguru]

stepdad Toji talking you through your first time masturbating and your first orgasm

Stepcest! Minors and antis dni!! ^_^ anon this is so cayute :3 I wrote this one day and finished it weeks after 😭 I forgot literally every word in my vocabulary sorry if it sounds repetitive :<

“There you go, sweet girl, just like that…” Toji murmurs as he guides your shaky hand by your wrist with his much larger hand, his face right by your ear so he can talk to you easier and occasionally plant kisses to your ear and cheek.

“Feels so weird…” you mumble breathily, your thumb lightly rubbing your clit as Toji had instructed you a few moments ago. You were already soaking wet, but he told you to first introduce yourself to the feeling of stimulation.

“I know, baby, ‘s how it’s supposed to feel,” he laughs at your obliviousness and presses a kiss to your forehead. “‘M gonna let go now, okay? Just slide your finger right into your little pussy, mhm?” Nervously, you nod, and Toji lets go of your wrist to observe how you’ll go about doing it alone now.

You use two fingers to smear your arousal around and bat your lashes up at Toji, as if a way to ask if what you’re doing was correct.

“Mhm, keep going, princess,” he taps your arm and you look back down, exhaling a shaky, nervous breath before slowly slipping one finger into your tight hole, your eyebrows knitted together. “Look at thaaat, baby, doing so good already…” Toji whispers, his arm wrapped around your back so he can rub his large palm up and down your arm.

You just leave your finger stilled, too nervous to move since this is barely your first time. But that’s why Toji’s here, right?

“Gonna move now, princess?” He grins lazily against your neck before kissing it lovingly. You huff and nod your head.

“Mkay..” it take you a few seconds before you actually begin to move your wrist. Your hand is an uncomfortable position, but Toji said that’s normal. It feels warm and gummy, almost tight, as you move your finger in and out very gently.

“There you go…” Toji groans, a lazy grin embracing his scarred lips as he looks down at the way you move your wrists, your juices leaking out of your untouched cunt. You’re so nervous, it’s adorable.

You’re still wearing your skirt and white buttoned up collar shirt, the only thing that’s different is that Toji has your panties in his pockets, casually. Your hips twitch, your breath shaky and uneven, wet eyes glued to how you nervously thrust your wrist in and out of your tight hole.

“Look, baby, you’re doing so good..” and Toji’s murmured praise has you clenching around your own fingers, your juices coating your digits. Of course, Toji doesn’t fail to notice the way your walls tighten, he just decided that his poor sweet girl deserves a break from all his bullying.

“Daddy, it-it feels so weirddd…!” You squirm around, your abdomen feeling tight. Toji grins and leans in to pepper your neck in kisses, one hand on your cheek while the other one reaches for your wrist.

“Keep going, princess, promise it’ll all be worth it.” Eager to please, you hesitantly nod and continue the movement of your wrist, albeit unsteady and weak.

Your legs twitch, your breath trembling and your jaw goes slack, eyebrows knitting together.

“Feel like you’re gonna let it all out, baby…? Gonna cum?” Toji asks. The word sounds so silly to you, but you nod anyway.

“Gonna… c-cum…” you pant before sinking your teeth into your lower lip, feeling shy in front of a Toji because you feel like you look silly.

“You can do it, sweetheart, I know you can,” and it only takes a few more pushes of your wrist to feel yourself come undone, your body stilling and you’re seeing stars. “There we go, baby, you did it, did so well, look at thaaat.. such a good girl, aren’t you? Yeah? Mhm, my pretty girl.” Toji’s hand strokes you’re cheek lovingly, leaning forward to pepper your face is gentle kisses.

Your eyes are glued to the way you’re gushing all over your digits and with Toji’s hand wrapped around your wrist, it’s stuck in position.

“D-Daddy…” you cry, batting your wet lashes at your stepdad with teary, doe eyes, your lips trembling.

“I know, princess, don’t worry…” Toji whispers into your ear just seconds before pressing a kiss to it, both hands caressing the skin they’re cupping. “I love you, baby, did so good for me.”

[sunrizef1]

Milk and Sugar

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not edited, cursing maybe, the ex gf isn’t anyone specific don’t @ me

Summary: Max is tired of his persistent ex girlfriend and friends that are maybe a little too empathetic about his breakup. What better way to scare them off than getting a new girlfriend? But he doesn’t actually want a new relationship. Enter: you. The perfect (fake) new girlfriend.

Word Count: 9.6k

Authors Note: this fic was kicking my ass im gonna be so fr. It took forever and I just couldn’t write the ending for some reason. Hopefully now that this is up, I can do something else lmfao

You were just doing a favor for a friend.

Or that’s what you had told yourself when Max had originally asked you to go along with his stupid idea. You hadn’t even really wanted to agree, by the way. He had just needed your help so badly and that’s what friends are for, right?

So that’s how you’d ended up in his garage, Red Bull hat pulled tightly over your head as you watched his car sail around the track in Brazil, the season well under way.

You’d met Max a few years back. You’d moved into the apartment next to his, not even blinking as your eyes scanned over the future world champion, too focused on your dog trying his best to distract you from the heavy box in your hands.

“Apollo! Stop!” You sighed at the dog as he jumped at your legs, trying his hardest to knock the box full of dog food and treats out of your arms. The dog, not knowing English, didn’t listen, of course, continuing his assault on your calves.

The box tilts in your grasp, coming dangerously close to falling out of your arms. But suddenly, the weight is lifted away and Apollo seems to turn his attention to whatever had relieved you from your struggle, giving you the opportunity to pull the small dog into your grasp, trying your best to calm his rowdiness down.

Once you’ve gotten the dog to calm down a significant amount, you look up to see who’d saved you from hours of cleaning loose dog food off the floor during your first day in your new apartment. You’re met with bright blue eyes staring back at you, a concerned look on the strangers face.

You’re too worried about the pretty man in front of you to even worry about Apollo as he starts to nibble lightly on your jacket.

“Are you okay?” And then he speaks for the first time and you’re captivated. Not in a love-at-first-sight way, of course. More of a this-guy-might-be-perfect kind of way.

You nod, gently separating your dogs mouth off your hoodie string, petting his, most-likely, empty head warmly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. This little guy just really wanted that food, I guess.”

The stranger laughs, moving the box in his arms to rest against his hip, “I’m more of a cat person, anyway.”

You fake a wince, shaking your head with a frown, “Ahh, guess we can’t be friends then, mysterious stranger. Im a dog person all the way.”

He laughs again, grinning warmly, “Any way I could help you with this? Can’t imagine it’s easy moving in with a dog running around.”

Your eyes widen at his words, your hand fumbling to fish the key to your new apartment out of your pocket, “Only if you’re free! I wouldn’t want to bother my new neighbor on my first day.”

Your neighbor shakes his head, light brown hair falling down on his forehead, “It’s no big deal, I’m surprisingly free today.”

You smile, pushing the door to your apartment open, setting Apollo down as you enter. The dog immediately starts to scope out the area, bounding up and down the halls, his collar jangling loudly as he does. You hear the man enter behind you, watching as he walks over and places the box of dog food on the counter in the kitchen.

“Usually I learn a man’s name before I invite him into my apartment,” you smirk, laughing as a blush coats your neighbors face. He takes the few steps back over to close the gap between you, sticking out a calloused hand toward you.

“I’m Max.”

You smile, repeating his name before reciting your own, clasping your hand in his much rougher one, tilting your head up at him as you shake, letting go after a few moments.

“It’s nice to meet you max,” you say, smiling as you see Max’s face light up happily, “How inclined would you be to helping me get the rest of my boxes?”

Max laughs as he sees the sweet grin on your face, shaking his head as he moves toward the door, “I’d love to help, y/n. Can’t have my new favorite neighbor moving in alone, can I?”

Your face splits into a grin as you follow him toward the exit, turning to make sure Apollo was comfortably inside the apartment so he wouldn’t try and run away before closing the door behind you.

Max did help you that day, the moving in process going substantially quicker with the help of the athlete. He even invited you over to his place for dinner, explaining that it’d be too much of a hassle for you to make dinner after moving in all day. You didn’t bring up the fact he’d been moving all day as well, simply following him next door instead.

That had been three years ago and you’d been friends ever since. It was a casual friendship, more moved by the proximity than anything else.

He’d had to explain f1 to you, you being completely unfamiliar with the sport despite having moved to Monaco, probably the place with the most connection to it. Now, you’d casually watch his races as you worked or ate dinner, not entirely sure what was going on but supporting your friend anyway.

He’d also eventually asked you to watch his cats for him, Jimmy and Sassy being surprisingly friendly with your puppy. Max had been scared about introducing them, prefacing with many statements about how much the cats hated dogs and that it really wouldnt be a problem if you couldn’t watch them if they hated each other.

All that talk went out the window when the first thing the pets did when they met each other was take a nap.

It was January when it happened. You had been sitting calmly in your apartment, watching Bridgerton and eating pasta, your work computer abandoned to the side of the couch. You had a blanket pulled over your lap, a hot mug of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Rare snow fell softly outside your window, albeit not very much snow but snow nonetheless.

You were very content.

This, of course, all came crashing down when you heard the sound of your apartment door banging open, heavy footsteps signaling the arrival of your neighbor. You’d given him a key for emergencies, although you couldn’t possibly imagine what could warrant an emergency at this time.

You roll your eyes as you hear him approach, setting your pasta down on the table and grabbing the remote to pause your show, turning as Max throws himself down on the couch next to you.

“Hello, Max. Can I help you?” You sigh, trying to force a smile onto your face. Max seems to catch your discontent and grimaces, wincing away slightly.

“Bad time?”

You let out a breath, not able to stay mad at the Dutch man for very long, “Maybe a little, but it’s fine, really. Did you need something?”

Max nods, sitting up straighter, “I may or may not have a formal request. Neighbor to neighbor.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his response, noting his slightly nervous behavior, “Okay?”

He takes a deep breath before speaking, his eyes trailing over toward where your tv was currently paused, “You know how I just went through that breakup, right?”

You hum, all too familiar with the aforementioned breakup, having had Max barge into your apartment for comfort food and movie marathons more than a few nights in the wake of his, now ex, girlfriends departure.

“Well,” Max starts and you can sense the hesitation in his tone but considering he had interrupted your night, you opted to let him flounder, “It’s been weird on the grid since then.”

“Okay,” you hum, eyes glancing over his face and catching the way he grimaces.

“Ever since the break-up, all the guys have been looking at me like I’m a child, you know? Like I might fall apart any second. Even though I’m completely fine!”

You stare, knowing more than anyone else, that he wasn’t very fine for a while, although he’d miraculously recovered over the past few months. You also stared in hopes he’d soon get to the point of the conversation.

“They also keep trying to set me up with their friends as if I need a rebound when I would really rather stay single,” Max groans, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. Your furrow your eyebrows, wondering where this could be going.

Max glances up, eyes avoiding yours at all costs, “I was wondering if you could, maybe..”

Max trails off, wincing slightly. You stare straight ahead at him blankly, waiting for him to finish his request. He does eventually mumble something under his breath and you lean forward, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry?”

Max grumbles, annoyed and you roll your eyes at the attitude of the man disrupting your own night.

“Could you pretend to be my girlfriend for a while?” Max rushes out, hands carding through his hair nervously, “Just long enough for the guys to leave me alone, you don’t even have to do anything, maybe just come to Brazil and Monaco-“

Max continues to ramble on for a few seconds, words seeming to fall out of his mouth unceremoniously before he’s cut off by you interrupting him.

“Max!” You raise your voice slightly in an attempt to talk to over him. Max freezes, looking at your face for the first time since he’s crashed through your front door, “I’ll do it.”

He stares at you blankly for a few moments, trying to process your words, “Really?”

You shrug, teeth digging into your lip as you turn your head toward the large window across the room that overlooked the darkened city of Monte Carlo, “Why not? You’re my friend. Plus I work remotely and who doesn’t want to travel around the world to all those different cities?”

Max’s face lights up at your response, his lips forming a huge grin. He rolls over into a lying position, practically star-fishing on your couch, “Thank you so much! I owe you one.”

You hum, fighting the smile on your lips as you watch him close his eyes calmly. You slip up from the couch quietly, padding over to the kitchen to grab something.

“Where are you going? Did I scare you off already?” You hear Max call as you walk away. As you walk back over, his eyes are still closed though, signaling that he didn’t really think he’d scared you off.

He does open his eyes as you set the bowl of leftover pasta and a fork on his chest before grabbing your own and sitting down, grabbing the remote to press play. He glances over as you settle into the couch and move your blanket over your lap before he sits up. You take a bite of your pasta as you continue to watch your show. Max takes a second but he eventually digs in as well, sitting up in order to grasp the bowl better.

Even after the pastas finished, you both sit back on the couch in order to finish the show. You glance over at Max, his eyes still locked onto the screen.

What had you gotten yourself into?

————

“Are you ready?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you sit in the passengers seat of Max’s car, the hoards outside having no idea what was waiting for them inside. You slide your sunglasses onto your nose, hoping they’d hide at least a little bit of the anxiety flowing through you.

You nod, turning your head toward Max in the drivers seat, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Max hums, not entirely convinced but also aware he had no other option but to believe you considering he’s the one who’d asked you to do this. He opens his door, stepping out and sliding his own sunglasses on. You watch as he walks around the front of the car before stopping in front of your door and pulling it open. You pause for a moment but eventually step out, trying not to wince as the bright sun hits you.

You immediately step into his path, falling into stride next to him as you both walk toward the entrance. You hear the car lock behind you and watch Max pocket the keys.

The bright Miami sun beats down on your skin, causing you to wish you’d opted for a thinner shirt. Max had originally proposed for your first race to be Monaco but you had decided it was better to appear earlier than later for his sake. Plus, you’d always enjoyed Miami and were up for the idea of traveling there. You’d also originally planned to buy your own plane tickets but Max was quick to shut that one down.

As you both approached the turnstiles, Max pulls his lanyard out of his pocket. You don’t even notice as he pulls you inside the paddock, too busy trying not to notice the cameras surrounding you. Flashes come from all around you, the incessant clicks echoing through your head.

You finally do notice that Max hasn’t let go of your hand after he pulled you into the paddock. You grasp his hand a little tighter and he pulls you closer into his side as a response. When heat starts to rise to your face, you decide to blame it on the Miami sun.

As you both walk toward the Red Bull hospitality, heads turn to watch you walk by. You can feel people’s eyes trailing after you, locked on your unfamiliar form. Everything new in the paddock very quickly became a spectacle. Especially when it involved the current world champion.

You’re sure you’ll see pictures of yourself splashed all across the internet when you wake up in Max’s hotel room the next day. You’re sure your mom will send you whatever article they’ll attach your name to, no doubt hounding you for information about your new celebrity “boyfriend”.

You’d been curled up in Max’s hotel room the whole weekend, occasionally dipping out to get food with him between events. He’d wanted you to come to the track since Thursday but you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to step out as “Max Verstappens new girlfriend” until you’d woken up Sunday morning.

You’d woken up before Max, somehow. As you laid in your plush hotel room bed, you could hear Max’s soft breathing from the other bed filtering through the silence of the morning. Just outside the window, the city of Miami was waking up. At least, the early birds were.

You and Max had slept in the same room enough over the years, Max randomly crashing at your place pretty often, that when he suggested you getting a different room, you’d immediately turned him down. You were telling yourself it was just because it was nice to have the comfort of a friend but something deep down knew that that wasn’t the only reason.

You let the only sounds be his breathing and the light hum of the air on unit for a few more minutes while you woke up. You slid out of the bed as silently as possible, your feet padding quietly against the carpeted floor. You pull the door open to the balcony slowly, stepping out before closing it behind you. The sun is still pretty low in the sky but it still makes you flinch as it seeps into your eyes.

You sink into one of the two chairs out on the balcony, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top, letting your thoughts run wild.

You watch Miami move below you, the sun slowly shining down brighter and brighter, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

You weren’t entirely sure why you’d agreed to this idea so quickly. With every day that passed, you wished more and more that you hadn’t. Doubt seeped through you with every second you watched Max from the hotel television. He was just so good at his job and such a cool, wonderful person and athlete. How could you keep up with him? The press would be insistent and non-stop invasive. Fans would, no doubt, dogpile on you as well, both warning to know everything about you as well as rip you apart. You start to wonder if there was a single positive of this for you.

The door slides open behind you and you can hear Max moving onto the balcony beside you. You don’t glance over, only moving your gaze away from the skyline as a mug is held in front of your face. You glance down at it, spotting the coffee inside before you grasp the mug out of his hands gently. The ceramic warms your hands, the steam from the liquid splaying across your face.

“There was only those little creamer pods,” Max hums as he takes a sip of his own mug, leaning against the bannister in front of you, “Hope that’s okay.”

You chew at your lip, taking a sip of your own mug, humming lightly as your gaze locks on his back, “That’s fine, thanks.”

You’d usually take your coffee with milk and a spoonful of sugar but you’d had enough gas station or hotel room coffee that you’d be able to survive with just the creamer pods.

You watch Max’s side profile as he stares out at the city, the sun bouncing off the edges and planes of his face and perfectly lighting up his eyes. You bask in quiet that settles between you, sipping at your coffee periodically. You don’t quickly forget the kindness of his gesture. Actually, the action stays in your head for longer than it probably should, mind running wild as you think about his motives.

You dismiss it, though, not wanting to linger on something that probably meant nothing.

“You coming to the race today?” Max turns around to face you, his back leaning against the rail he’d just been looking out over.

Your eyes trace him as he turns, evaluating his early morning form. As you look at this man, your friend, you think about the coffee in your hands. You think about the times he’d dogsat Apollo despite hating dogs, the days he’d come over just to keep you company when you were homesick, when he’d attempted to cook you soup when you’d been sick despite his complete inability to cook soup, you even think back to the first day you’d met when he’d helped you move in despite having known you for all of thirty seconds.

As all those memories passed through your mind, you suddenly remember why you’d agreed to do this in the first place.

“Yeah, I am,” you reply, taking a long sip of your coffee and hiding your grin as one of his own makes its way onto his lips.

————

That had been earlier that morning and know you were sat in Red Bull, watching as Max’s car passes the finish line in second. You’d been biting your nails the whole time, worry seeping through you. You weren’t the biggest formula 1 nerd but Max had forced you to watch enough old races for you to get what was going on. You’d even started watching his races when he was gone, something that had taken you months to admit.

Because of Max’s insistence, you knew enough to grimace as the safety car came out. You were right to grimace, of course, as Lando was quick to pass your friend, taking the lead and the win. Max, for what it’s worth, didn’t seem too angry about the result. You were aware of Landos lack of wins, seeing why his winning would make everyone happy, even the losers. Not that you were too happy, you’d only ever and only ever would cheer for Max, even if Lando was deserving of a win of his own.

Max doesn’t get asked about you during interviews. At least, not directly. He gets asked how life had been and he answers with a vague answer about love and how great life has been. You know he’s talking out of his ass but you’re grinning anyway, not able to hold back you mind from thinking about a world where everything he was saying was true.

“Landos gonna have a big celebration,” Max starts as he gets back to you after the podium, walking you both back toward his room so he can change, “He’ll probably be awake for the next 72 hours.”

You smile lightly, resting a tired head against his sweaty shoulder, “Good for him, seems like he really deserves it.”

Max nods with a pleasant look on his face, “Yeah, I’m not even that mad about losing. Nothing I could’ve done really. Im just glad he got his win.”

You nod, taking a breath in order to hold back the yawn threatening to leave your mouth, “You should go to his party, I’ll just go grab some dinner and head back to get some sleep.”

You both stop as you reach his room, Max facing you as he leans back against the door to open it. You notice the deep furrow in his eyebrows as he locks eyes with you, “What are you talking about?”

You furrow your own eyebrows as a response, tilting your head to the side, “You should go celebrate with your friend? Go have fun, Max!”

He shakes his head as he enters the room, quickly gathering his things to go take a quick shower, “Why would I celebrate a loss with a coworker when I can get some quality time with a friend instead? I’d rather celebrate a win with you instead of a loss without you. Trust me, you’ll be there to see me win.”

You’re already at a loss for words at his response but your rendered speechless as Max pulls his fireproofs off, tossing the shirt to the side passively. He turns away from you and you watch his muscles ripple under his skin, your face hearing greatly. His arms flex as he reaches for something and you have to bite your lip to keep your mouth closed. Your eyes are wide as he turns to glance over his shoulder at you, “That okay?”

At the risk of sounding like an idiot if you attempt to respond with words, you simply nod, eyes moving toward the floor. You don’t notice the smirk that forms on his lips as he catches your stare.

“I’m gonna shower and then we can leave,” he calls out over his shoulder as he walks into his bathroom. Your eyes are still locked onto the floor. You hear the sound of water pattering against the floor just after the door shuts.

You take a large sip of your water bottle, trying to wet your drying throat and keep the heat in your face at bay. You feel like you might be going crazy, the image of Max’s shirtless back etched into your mind.

Jesus Christ.

————

“What do you wanna watch?” Max mumbles through a mouth full of pizza, his hand coming up to covering it as he speaks.

You shrug, “I don’t know.”

Max shrugs as well, grabbing the remote off the nightstand and passively flickering through the channels as he swallows his bite of pizza, “Come get some food.”

He gestures toward the box of pizza on the edge of his bed with the remote, glancing toward you sitting in your own bed, watching him instead of the tv. You slide off the bed, taking the few steps it takes to get to his own and gently settling on the side he wasn’t currently sitting on.

Max watches you move, humming as you grasp a piece from the pizza box before he turns his attention back to the screen. You don’t notice as he settles on a movie, too busy trying not to absolutely scarf down the food in your hand.

Your eyes do leave the slice to glance over at Max, legs outstretched with his back firmly against the headboard. He’s wearing a Red Bull hoodie, even managing to wear team merch in his own bedroom. He’s also got some old basketball shorts, a faded logo sitting on the upper thigh that, no matter how much you try, you can’t understand.

You look away when you hear the familiar sound of Lightning McQueen echoing out of the television speakers. You quickly catch sight of the Italian formula car, deducing that Max has chosen Cars 2, of all movies.

You try your best not to laugh but a giggle escapes you anyway, causing you to bury your head in your shoulder to try and hide your grin.

“What?” Max asks you and you look forward again, eyes locked onto the movie, “What’s so funny?”

Your head turns toward the driver who’s grin is now matching your own, “You chose probably the only movie on here that uses the words “Grand Prix” can’t even get away from racing in your hotel room.”

He feigns offense for a few moments before reaching forward to grab another piece of pizza and sliding down into more of a lying position, “It’s a good movie.”

You both turn to the screen for a few moments but the second Lewis Hamilton’s voice rings out in the silence, you laugh loudly, Max groaning beside you.

You quickly dissolve into giggles, trying your hardest to reign it in but when you look over and see the amused frown on Max’s face, you’re right back into it again, Max laughing in response.

You both do eventually settle down, watching the movie and eating your food together. Even after the pizza box is empty and max moves to set it on the table, you don’t move from your spot, using the reasoning that it’s just easier to see the screen from his bed.

You try not to notice the proximity between you. You’d been holding hands all day and you’d pressed several kisses to his cheeks and forehead, being near him shouldn’t bother you. But when you shift slightly closer just to get more comfortable and Max’s arm falls down over your shoulder, you freeze, keeping as still as you can.

He doesn’t move his arm through the rest of the movie. Not that you’d know, considering you drift off with about half an hour to go. But Max doesn’t notice that either, considering how he fell asleep just after.

You wake up before him again the next morning, don’t the same thing you’d done the day before and walking out to the balcony. Max does the same thing he did as well, walking out with two mugs grasped gently in his grip.

When you take the mug from him, you try not to think about the fact you’d woken up limbs tangled with his and your face pressed into his chest.

————

The São Paulo Grand Prix.

It had been 6 months of this charade with Max. That’s right, you’d managed to suffer through 6 whole months of pretending to be his girlfriend. There’s been countless headlines from various news sites, trying their best to figure out every single detail about your life and relationship with Max.

The only thing keeping your mind together was the root of the problem himself and your prolonged roommate, Max.

He was actually really lovely. Every time you suggested a different room for his sake, you’d end up right where you were the week before, in a bed across from his. You’d also kept the same morning routine every day, waking up before Max and sitting out on the balcony until he brought coffee out for both of you.

He’d eventually gotten to a point where he sat in the chair next to you as opposed to standing up and leaning against the railing. There was still little conversation, though, you both enjoying the silence of an early morning instead.

This specific morning, you were watching the city of São Paulo move along below you. Goosebumps raised slightly as the wind-chilled November air nipped at the skin on your arms. The sun hadn’t completely rose yet and the previous nights rain had left the air colder than it should’ve been. You found yourself rubbing your hands over your arms and wishing you’d worn something other than a t-shirt.

The door slides open behind you and you take the mug as it’s placed in your eye line, grateful for the heat of the mug to warm up your cold hands. You lower your face toward the mug, letting the steam warm up your wind-chilled skin. You go to take a sip but it burns at your lips when you tilt the mug, causing you to set it down on the small table in order for it to cool for a few moments.

After you set it down, something lands in your lap. You look down, holding the item up and quickly recognizing it as one of Max’s Red Bull hoodies. You glance over at him but he’s still looking out over the city below, sipping passively at his mug of black coffee.

You look back down at the item of clothing, glancing between it and the owner for a few seconds before deciding to slip it on, your cold skin winning out over any reasonable thought that would tell you not to wear it.

The hoodies too big for you and it smells like Max but you don’t really seem to mind either of those things. Especially as your skin heats as the fabric passes over it.

Once you’ve got the hoodie on, you pick up your coffee again, blowing on it slightly to cool it down. You raise the cup to your lips, letting the warm liquid flow into your mouth.

You hum at the taste, quickly noticing that it tastes different than usual. You furrow your eyebrows, taking another sip. The oh-so wonderful taste that you’d missed so dearly over the past 6 months takes over your tastebuds. The taste of real milk and sugar.

You hum pleasantly, grasping the cup tightly. You glance over toward the man who’d handed you the drink, “Is this milk and sugar?”

Max glances toward you for a split-second before he looks back over the city, taking a sip of his own coffee, “Yeah, that’s how you like it, right? You always drink it like that back home.”

You ignore the jolt in your stomach when Max refers to the Monaco apartments as a shared home. You bite your lip with an affirmative hum, “Where’d you get milk and sugar?”

“Couldn’t sleep last night, went for a walk. There’s a corner store down the block and I picked some up,” Max says it casually, like it’s not the most considerate anyone had been of you, maybe ever.

You stare at him for a few moments, trying to ignore the warm feeling in your chest as you imagine him thinking about you enough to buy coffee ingredients the way you liked them.

As you sat outside, in his hoodie, sipping on the coffee he had made and handed to you, you finally accept what you’d been trying to deny for six months, if not longer.

You were in love with Max Verstappen.

You longed for the domesticity that was so present on mornings like these. You wanted to live this life with him all the time. You didn’t just want to fall asleep beside him after a race but you wanted to be able to press your lips against his when he won instead of the light touches you’d flutter against his cheek. You wanted to wear his hoodies all the time, not just when you were cold and forgot one of your own. You wanted to stop pretending in front of his friends. You wanted the hushed whispers to be sweet nothings instead of scheming and planning.

You wanted this life with him. All the time.

“Max-” you start but you’re quickly cut off by Max as he speaks instead.

“My ex is going to be at this race,” he states and you close your mouth, deflating slightly as you look away, “Just wanted to prepare you in case we run into her. You could also, um, probably stop coming once you scare her off.”

You nod meekly, taking a sip of your coffee. What had once been your idea of a sanctuary with the silence of the morning is now too quiet, allowing your thoughts to be the only noise in your head, images of Max’s ex rolling around aimlessly.

You stand up quickly, taking rushed steps back into the room. You down the last sips of your coffee and slide it onto the table, moving hurriedly around the room to gather your things for a shower. You vaguely notice Max walking back into the room with a confused look but you don’t even look up as you rush into the bathroom, “I’m taking a shower.”

“Okay?” Max says as you close the door behind you. You don’t notice the frown on his face as he disappears from view.

You’re too busy throwing off his hoodie and turning the shower to practically scalding heat, trying your hardest to rid yourself of thoughts about a life with Max, thoughts of his ex-girlfriend or thoughts about the stupid coffee he’d handed you and how stupid you were to be reading so much into it.

For a moment there, you’d thought that Max was enjoying this as much as you were. But his words were quick to remind you that you were only there to do a favour for him. He is only there to get his friends and his ex off his back. After that, you were free to go. It even vaguely sounded like Max didn’t want you to come back around the next weekend.

Why else would he have said that? Why else would he have suggested you stop coming? Especially just after talking about his ex. It was a stark reminder that you were only a tool for him to mess with his ex. She was the one he’d loved, you were just a girl he knew.

You stay under the scalding water long enough for the mirrors to fog and your fingertips to prune. Your cuticles sting from where the hot water had made its way into the raw skin, the cuts still fresh from where you’d been anxiously picking at them.

You only pull yourself from the water when you start to sway from the heat, your head going light and an ache echoing through your skull.

————

A few hours later, you’re by Max’s side again, although there’s a slightly larger distance between you than usual.

That would change soon, no doubt, when Max spotted his ex, pulling you close to attempt to show his devotion to your fake relationship.

But for now, you're an arms-length away, hoping that pushing him away would also push away your own feelings.

Max can't grasp even an idea as to why you were acting like this. Did you really want this to be over that badly? He knew he'd mentioned the idea of your… situation ending but he didn't think you'd be this eager to get away from him.

At the first camera flash, you take a step closer to Max, knowing how even the smallest hint of discontent between you would be twisted for headlines and it would end with your concerned mother calling you fifty times to check on your relationship after seeing an article on Facebook.

So you step closer, reaching over to intertwine your hands. Max doesn't resist and you try not to read into the gentle squeeze he replies with.

Brazils nice. Or at least, you assume. You'd been too distracted to take much notice. But you do notice the fans yelling from all around. Lively crowds sway and shout in the distance, hues of blue and black and orange all represented amongst the groups.

Max leads you through the paddock, determination clear in his steps. It was most likely just his own determination not to talk to anyone, especially a certain ex-girlfriend.

You both get to Red Bull without an unwanted interaction and the second you're out of the public eye, you're dropping his hand, none the wiser to the confused look on the driver's face.

The tension's palpable in his small room. Awkward conversation flows, your words biting and curt. Neither of you wants to address the obvious undertones your words contain. One of hostility and unshared secrets. But you manage to survive until Max has to leave to get ready for the race and you follow just a few minutes later, making your way to watch said race.

The race is fine. Max wins, but you were never in doubt about that. He was starting from pole, it'd be pretty hard for him to lose. Lando finished just a few seconds behind him, having closed the gap a bit after getting past George.

As the team starts to leave to go greet Max, Christian Horner pulls you along, saying something about Max wanting you at the barrier after the race. You're sure its just so he can put on a show for his ex.

But you follow along anyway, trying not to stumble in your heels as Christian walks along a lot faster than you'd want to.

You pass through other teams and friends and guests or the drivers, waving slightly at people you’d gotten to know over the past six months. The thought of not seeing any of these people again after you and Max faked a breakup made your stomach hurt but you ignore it, trying to tell yourself it was for the better.

When Christian reaches the team, he guides you both through the crowd, smiling politely at the engineers as he slides by.

It seems you both reach the barrier just in time, as Max is parking when you come to a stop. You watch as he pulls himself out of the car, cheering a bit to the fans around as he stands atop it. When he pulls off his helmet and balaclava, you try your hardest not to smile at the pure joy on his face.

He glances over his shoulder at something you can't see before he turns and catches your eye, quickly moving in your direction. Before you can even say a word, he's set his helmet down and wrapped both his hands around the sides of your face, pulling it toward his own. His lips are warm, the heat of the race still emanating off of him. You dismiss the sweat in his hair as you wrap a hand softly around the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his locks. Your other hand rests on the side of his face, your thumb tracing the marks his helmet had left around his eyes.

You pull away first, glancing up into his eyes with a gentle smile, “Good job, you did amazing Max.”

His face heats and he glances away with a light chuckle, “Thank you, baby. I'm glad you're here.”

You wish he'd stop calling you that. At least for the sake of your heart jumping in your chest every time he does.

He looks away but your eyes are still firmly locked on the side of his face, tracing the familiar path around his features that they'd forged over the past six months. The same path they took every morning when you watched him look out over whatever city you were in that weekend. The same path they took when he fell asleep first during a movie in hopes of memorizing every detail before you slunk back into your own bed to fall asleep, the image of his face still etched into your mind.

But as you stare up at Max, trying to memorize the puzzle pieces of his face while he talks to Christian, you realize how futile of an endeavour it is. Not matter how hard you try, you'll never get the slope of his nose just right in your memories. You'll never get the right shade of turquoise for his eyes. The sandy-dark-blond of his hair will fade away until it was nothing in your mind but the shade of your coffee in the morning instead of the colour of his hair.

Maybe you should find a different apartment. Surely, Monaco had a different apartment complex that was far enough away from Max to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts of him that constantly plagued your love-adled brain.

Throughout all of that, you’d almost forgotten you were in love with him.

But when Max turns back to you, a glint in his eyes and a bright smile gracing his lips, you're suddenly all too aware of that fact.

“I’ll see you in a minute, yeah?”

You nod, smile slowly drifting as he walks away to get weighed and do all the usual post-race theatrics.

Christian pats his hand on your shoulder firmly, smiling as you turn around, “Let’s get to the podium, kid.”

You let Christian lead you away, yet again making his way through the crowd to get you both to the front.

The podium celebration is cute, Max’s happiness practically contagious. Lando and George are enthralled as well, the Brits both happy to back on the podium once again.

But when Max leans over to spray the champagne on the team, you put your hands over your face as Christian laughs beside you, both of you trying to avoid the sticky liquid as much as possible.

You peel away from the crowd after Max walks off, trying to find your way to wherever Max had gone.

As you'd left, you'd wandered away from Christian, who knew the paddock much better than you did. This was your first time here and you found yourself looking around for any sign of the Red Bull driver or, at least, a familiar face who could point you in the right direction.

It takes you a few minutes to gain your bearings but when you hear the familiar sound of Max’s voice, you go that direction, turning a corner to see his face.

And you do see him, post-race glow and all. But it's not just him you find. Standing entirely too close to him with her hand resting on his shoulder, is Max’s ex-girlfriend. She's smiling warmly, nodding animatedly at whatever it is Max is saying. Which, from constantly talking to him, you know is not worth the reaction she's giving him.

He's glancing around, clearly not comfortable with the situation. You huff, looking around before conceding and walking over to the pair. Were you maybe taking your time a little bit? Yeah, but you really didn't want to do this.

You roll your eyes when you catch Max’s eye and a relieved look rolls over his face, “Hey, baby.”

Max uses your arrival as an excuse to take a step back, swinging his arm around your shoulder. He's still covered in champagne and sweat but you ignore it, “Hey, Max.”

You finally glance up to meet the eye of the woman in front of you, her eyes narrowed as she looks between you, “Oh my god, hi! You must be Max’s ex!”

She rolls her eyes before smiling tightly with a nod of her head, “Yeah, I am. You must be his new girlfriend.”

You hum affirmatively, smiling wide as you glance over to the man beside you, “I am, yeah. He's just so perfect. We’re so happy together!”

She narrows her eyes again, glancing you up and down before her eyes stop on your face. You roll your head to the side to rest your temple on his shoulder, resting one of your hands against his chest.

“Well, I’m happy you moved on, Max,” She says, turning her entire attention to the man in question, “You seem… perfect together.”

Max gleams, nodding as he leans in to kiss your cheek, “Yeah, I’m really happy.”

His ex chews on her bottom lip for a few moments before huffing and moving away, turning to shout over her shoulder as she walks away, “Have a great life, Max!”

“Thanks, I guess!” Max replies, laughing as soon as the woman is out of earshot. He pulls away from your side, turning to fully face you.

“Thank you!” Max cheers, grasping your shoulders with his hands, “Did you see her face? She was so pissed that I'd moved on.”

You hum, letting him be happy by himself while you stood quietly, “Yeah, you're welcome.”

You peel away from Max, turning to go back to the car park so you can leave. You don't say anything to Max before you walk away, leaving him to jog to catch up to you.

“You okay?” He asks once he's by your side again. You glance over, catching the concerned look on his face.

“Yeah,” you nod curtly, looking back ahead, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

He doesn't seem convinced but he leaves it be, turning away as well.

He pretends not to notice when you coincidentally step away after he tries to grab your hand.

While Max debriefs, you text one of your friends to ask if you could stay with her for a few days when you got back to Monaco. After this fake relationship was over, you needed to get away from Max for a while just to try and push away the growing feelings you have for the Dutch man.

And with the departure of Max’s ex, you'd served your purpose and you could finally get out of Max’s life and give him the solitude he so longed for.

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, the only noise being the sound of your nails tapping against the screen of your phone. Max glances over periodically but you eventually set your phone down, choosing to stare out the window as the dark streets of Brazil pass by quickly.

When you get back to the hotel, you open the car door before Max can get it for you like he usually does. He sends you another glance, trailing passively behind as you walk in front of him. You both pass through the lobby and the elevator, your steps determined and much quicker than Max really wanted to be walking.

He's still riding the high of his win and the defeat of his ex-girlfriend but you're in your own mind, too sick to your stomach to be happy for him.

You pull out the spare room key when you arrive at the room, pressing it against the sensor before shoving the door open roughly, letting it fall against Max behind you who catches it.

You toss the key on the table by the door and set your phone down beside it. You still don't turn around as you throw the jacket he had let you borrow down on his bed.

"What is your problem?" You hear Max’s voice ring out in the otherwise quiet room. Annoyance paints his words, causing you to pause for a split-second.

"I don't have a problem." You say, cringing when you catch how much of a lie it sounds. You move on, though, pulling your suitcase out from under the bed and unzipping it.

Max scoffs, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, "Are you sure? Because it really feels like you do."

"It's nothing, Max." You reply sharply, walking into the attached bathroom, grateful to get away from his gaze for a second.

You come back out, your toiletry bag in hand. You set it down in your suitcase and stand up, walking over to the closet and pulling your clothes off the rack. The sound of the hangers hitting together echoes through your head, only contributing to the headache that had been growing since your revelation that morning.

Max finally catches onto what you're doing and speaks, his voice almost panicked, "What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"What, already? Why?" You try not to be swayed by the hurt in his voice, turning around and walking past him to set your clothes down in your case.

He follows you over, stepping closer as you stand up. You try and step past him but he puts his arm out, stopping you in your tracks. You concede with a sigh, finally looking him in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter, Max.”

"But it does! What's wrong?" You finally step past him, on your way to go gather the rest of your things but his question makes you turn your head as you walk away.

"Max! It doesn't matter!" You immediately regret how loud your voice is but this wasn't exactly the time to be thinking about the people next door.

Max shakes his head, following you as you walk toward the doot in order to grab your shoes, "No, no, no. You've been like this all day and I can't think of a reason why. Do you really want to get away from me that badly?"

Your face twists, causing you to shake your head as you walk away, praying he wont follow you this time, "No, Max, that's not-"

He doesn't completely follow you but he does step a bit closer, shaking his head with a loud groan, "Then enlighten me! What could possibly happened in the past day that's making you act like this? Why are you leaving? Why won't you tell me? I thought we were supposed to be in this together! Why are you-"

"Because I'm in love with you, Max!" You shout, finally turning to face him as you say it, making eye contact with him for the first time since you'd walked in.

Silence falls between you and you toss your shoes down, covering your face with one of your hands. For a second, you think that Max might never respond, your stomach turning at the thought.

How hard could it be to find a different apartment in Monaco?

"What?" Max’s voice is soft and you look back to him, trying to will your frustrated tears not to fall.

"I'm in love with you! I fell in love with you and I know you don't feel the same. You only wanted me to do this to placate your friends and scare away your ex and now im getting out of your hair. I'm leaving you alone like you wanted in the first place,” Tears finally drip down your face and you don't bother to wipe them away, knowing there was only more where they came from. You look away as you explain, eyes locked onto the carpet beneath you, not wanting to face your embarrassment head-on.

"What are you talking about?" At Max’s purely confused tone, you look back to his face, teeth digging sharply into your bottom lip.

His face is soft, confusion etched into the furrow between his brows. Your stomach flips and you swallow, trying to rebuild the confidence you’d had at the start of your outburst.

The hotel room suddenly feels too cold, the air causing you to rub your hands over your shoulders in order to suppress the goosebumps that had started to rise. When you do speak again, your voice is soft, volume just above a whisper.

"This morning. You said I could stop coming after this race. And I did my job, I scared away your ex. You don't need me,” you trail off at the end of your statement, your voice breaking slightly as you shake your head, tears streaming out of your closed eyes and down your cheeks.

You expect Max to agree, to send you away, to end your friendship out of pure embarrassment after your decleration.

But he doesn't.

His voice is soft, just as yours was. His words are hushed but the emotion behind them seeps through every single word.

"I do, though. I do need you."

You look up, eyes widening at his statement. You can do nothing but stare as he steps closer, his hands grasping the sides of your face. Your own hands reach up to hold his wrists, just wanting to hold him someway.

He raises an eyebrow gently, quirking his head to ask for silent permission. You nod and its only a split-second before he's leaning down, pressing his lips against yours.

His hands cradle the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, his kiss causing your brain to practically melt. You mold together, leaning as close to him as you can as your hold conveys months and months of pent-up and hidden emotions.

As he pulls away, your lips want to chase his but you hold back, your eyes flickering open as he leans his forehead against yours. Neither of your speak for a few moments, silence settling between the two of you ask you bask in the adoration between you.

Max’s hand drifts back to your jaw, his thumb drifting across your cheekbone passively. You see his eyes look up and you glance up as well, catching his sparkling gaze in yours.

“I love you,” the words tumble out of his mouth, falling smoothly out of the lips you oh-so wished he would press against your own once again, “I'm in love with you. I fell for you during this whole thing, everything about you.”

You go to respond but he cuts you off, shaking his head lightly.

“I only told you that you could stop coming because I thought you'd grown tired of all this,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, leaning slightly into your hand that had drifted into his hair, “But I'm kind of glad I did.”

You furrow your eyebrows, quirking your head. Max pauses, allowing you the chance to admire every feature of his face, turning his freckles into constellations that you'd willingly stargaze in for hours. His hair is tousled from where your fingers had tangled in it and his lips are red from being pressed against yours. His teeth dig into said lip as he thinks before responding. You'd honestly be fine if he never finished his thought and you got to just look at him forever.

But he does finish his thought, the look in his eyes making your heart jump, "Because I don't want to pretend anymore."

You wait a moment, giving him the chance to take it back in case this was a joke, in case he didn't really mean it. But he doesn't take it back, he doesn't laugh.

And so you nod, "I want to do this with you for real, Max. I don't want to lie to anyone anymore, I want to celebrate with you after a race, not because people expect me to, but because I love you."

Max lights up, his face splitting into a wide grin at your words. Before you can react, his arms are around you and your feet are lifted off the ground as Max basically throws you onto the bed beside you.

Your laugh echoes through the hotel room, punctuated by the sound of Max flopping down next to you. You continue to giggle, glancing down to meet Max’s eyes, a special glint shining through.

You calm down after a few seconds as Max continures to gaze at you. When silence finally comes over you, Max leans up to rest on his elbows as you sit up slightly to look down at him.

“I love you too, by the way,” He says softly, “Dont know if you noticed.”

You hum, biting your lip to hold back your laugh, “I assumed so, yeah.”

You laugh as Max huffs, reaching a hand up to pull you down beside him, “Shut up.”

And you do, going quiet as your lips meet his. Later that night, as your both lying in bed, together this time, you fall asleep with your head against his chest, basking in the long-lastint but newly-confessed love between you.

The next morning, you wake up before Max, as you'd done so often. You slip out of his hold and pad over softly to the balcony, sliding on one of his hoodies before you open the sliding door.

You sink into one of the two chairs, looking out over the city of Sao Paulo as it slowly wakes up. The sun peeks out over the horizon, adding light to the previously dark morning.

Eventually, the door slides open behind you and you don’t even have to look to know it’s Max. But you look anyway, happy to take any chance to observe the man.

You take the mug from his offering hand, grasping the warm ceramic tightly. Max doesn’t walk over to the railing, instead moving toward the chair next to you. Before he sits down, he slides it over, pushing it as close to your chair as it could go. He sits down and you twist to sit sideways, leaning your legs over the arm of the chair. Max gently pulls your ankles over his chair to rest in his lap before he takes a long sip of his coffee.

You take a long sip of your own mug as well, letting the taste of the coffee coat your throat and warm your heart.

Milk and sugar, just the way you like it.

——————

Tags: @evie-119 @casperlikej

[mimasroom2]

Rouge est perdue (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Roommate!Ellie who is a perv😝

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

I remember somebody writing something like this but I’ve no idea who ˙◠˙. This is literally a complete 180 from my previous fic LMAO😭 it’s been over a year since I’ve written just pure smut,, idk if this is good or not but whatever.

C/w: FILTHY smut. Porn w a bit of plot. No use of Y/N. Fingering (both receiving). Pillow humping. dom!reader & sub!ellie. Kinda loser!ellie? Ellie is a perv but still needs consent >•<. Squirting😇.

W/c: 2.7k

~ 𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

“Heyyy Ellie? This is gonna sound weird,,, but like,, do you know where any of my underwear is?”

You feel so fucking weird asking your roommate this question. After all, it’s just so embarrassing, and you’ve looked EVERYWHERE. If you didn’t know where it is… she definitely didn’t. I mean, the dryer eats up your socks all the time. Probably happens to Ellie too. Surely you’re not the only one with garments missing.

Ellie shifts a little on her feet, “What do ya mean?” She looks at you with those damn puppy dog eyes she loves to use, and you swear you’re not crazy when your stomach does the flip thing.

You try not to look her in the eye, “Not really bras but more like… panties?”

“Ohhh okay. Ya I understand. Oh but no- haven’t seen any that aren’t mine.” She says nonchalantly while walking away.

You blink at her, “Oh! well thanks anyway.” You shrug your shoulders as you walk back into your room.

~

She had promised herself only a couple pairs. Maximum 3. She tried to be smart about it - she’d take one pair of each kind you had. That way it wouldn’t look so suspicious, instead of only your pretty Victoria’s Secret thongs going missing. One pair of briefs, one pair of bikinis,,, and of course her favorite thong of yours.

This whole… obsession… we can say, started on the second day the two moved in together. You two were sitting on the couch after you’d spent way too long lugging it inside together. You were texting your friends on your phone as she turned on the tv to some dinosaur channel. Ellie couldn’t stop sneaking glances of you - your body and what you were wearing. She flashed her eyes down and saw this absolutely gorgeous pair of red panties peek out from under your leggings. Seeing you in those almost made her drop the remote. Why would you be wearing something like that? Who were you trying to impress?

From what she could tell from rummaging through your things when you moved in yesterday, you were single. In fact, you basically had lay it all out beautifully for her. All your bras, underwear, tights and sex toys were all in the same box. She licked her lips, no girl getting some good head at the moment would need a clit sucking vibrator. It all came together when she casually mentioned her last girlfriend’s around you, and she had to turn away to smile when you mentioned you like girls too.

Now, Ellie had this habit. Whenever you’d go out with your friends or off to work, she’d waltz into her bedroom, lock the door (to be safe), and dig down deep in her underwear drawer until she found your own panties. She carefully had them hidden inside her own boxers, there was basically no way you could ever find them. Not like you would search her room without permission anyway, she knew you. And of course she didn’t really steal them… she was borrowing them. She planned on returning them whenever she felt like it… whenever that might be.

~

Today Ellie went through her usual routine of waiting five minutes after you left, going into her room, and grabbing the red thong. She sighed and bit her lip. It was almost as pretty as you.. silk with soft mesh, see through basically everywhere except for where your pussy would lay. She played with the red bow on top, “This is so fucking stupid.” She thought to herself.

Ellie pressed her lips together, reaching into her shorts and palming herself over her boxers. She sighed immediately, letting out a soft “fuuuckkkk” as her eyes fluttered shut.

She’d been waiting about two weeks since she snagged your thong to fuck herself with it. Yeah, she was really fucking horny for you, but she wanted to draw it out as long as she could.

She hummed to herself, “Mmmmm,, need more..” she sat down on her bed and took her shorts off. She inspected the panties once more, as if she hadn’t done that one hundred times already. Just by feeling them she could tell they were new. Maybe you were feeling confident about your new life you’ve started. New job, new roommate, new panties. She was absent-mindedly rocking her hips back and forth during this, thinking about how you’d look wearing them while laying on her bed.

She finally took off her boxers and dipped her fingers into her pussy. Her mouth opened a little, she was wetter than she thought she’d be. “Mmhh okay,” she sighs, “Thas’ better.” Ellie brought her wet fingers up to her throbbing clit, just touching it, not even rubbing circles like how she desperately needed to. She couldn’t take it and whimpered, pushing her fingers onto herself harder as punishment. She felt her clit fluttering faster each second she held her fingers there.

She suddenly stopped , getting up to grab a pillow. She situated it in between her legs. “Okay..” she sighed, slowly lowering herself onto it. She began rocking her hips back and forth again, knitting her eyebrows together. It felt so much fucking better than humping nothing, especially considering how firm the edge of the pillow was.

She kept going, making her movements faster, but she quickly grew annoyed as her shirt would become tucked underneath herself as she rides the pillow. Grunting, she quickly pulled the shirt off, completely bare and naked except for her black sports bra. She hastily grabbed your red panties and lost her mind humping the pillow. She whimpered and started to let out small, quiet moans as her actions grew more and more desperate.

“Y-yesss.. hah- so good.. fuck me, more pleassssse…” Ellie could feel that familiar tightness at her core start to arise.

~

As you approached the door to your appartement with your huge grocery haul in both hands, you heard the tv playing. You shook your head and smiled to yourself, “Ugh Ellie’s always turning the tv up way too loud.. gonna get noise complaints soon.” You thought.

Quickly stepping inside, you set all the grocery bags down on the counter and walked to the living room to tell Ellie to turn down the tv. However, as soon as you walked in there was no Ellie, only the tv turned up and on some channel you knew Ellie didn’t even watch. You raised an eyebrow but shook it off. She was probably invited somewhere last minute and, knowing Ellie, probably threw something on and ran out the door without turning off any lights or the tv.

You grabbed the remote from off the couch and watched the channel for a few seconds before deciding to click the power off button. The very second you turned off the tv, you weren’t greeted by silence, but by Ellie’s voice doing something you never thought you’d hear: moaning.

Your whole face suddenly grew red, and you felt your stomach drop. Your mind began to race: Holy shit. She’s fucking someone in there. Why is she doing that today. Ohmygod I never said I was going to the store. She probably thought I was going to work and would be out for hours. Fuck. Fuck. Why is she fucking that girl and not me? No- fuck that’s wrong. I can’t think that about my roommate I barley know! Ohmygod I thought that when she said she was single she meant like- she didn’t even do one night stands. Oh fuck me in the fucking ass-

Suddenly, your rapid stream of thoughts were cut off by Ellie moaning your name.

“Mmmhhhmm.. hahhh fuck right there baby. Yes.. yes I’m such a fuckin’ slut for you.” You hear her whine and fucking whimper. Your eyes grew as wide as balloons and you immediately dropped your purse on the couch. You take off your shoes so you’re not as loud, and sneak over to Ellie’s room where her door is closed.

You feel so fucking awkward you don’t know what to do. Maybe you felt a little more horny than awkward however, because suddenly you notice yourself squeezing your thighs together and shifting on your feet.

“Fuck it.” You thought. You reach for the door handle but stop as you go to turn it, second guessing yourself. Is this really right? Well I mean, she’s the one masturbating to you and moaning your name… so…

You turn the handle and slowly open the door. It creaks a little, causing Ellie to jump and freeze in place. The only thing you can manage to say is “Holyyyyy fuck.” Your super fucking hot ass tatted up roommate is riding her own pillow with your own red thong in hand moaning your own name. You feel like you can’t even breathe.

“Ohmygod wait-“ Ellie starts, trying her best to hunch over and cover herself with the pillow, “Okay fuck I’m really sorry I didn’t even think you’d be home fuckingfuckmegoddammit I even turned on the tv super loud so no one would hear me and if I heard it turn off I would know you came back but ohmyfuckinggod I didn’t hear it go silent imsofuckingsorry-“

You cut off her rambling of explanations and apologies, “Heyyyy, Ellie…?” You slowly take off your jacket and shirt, trying your very best to be sensual, but this was never your forte. “You didn’t finish… right?” You slowly look up at her.

“Wha-? What? Why are you asking me-“

“You didn’t answer me.” You interrupt her. Your eyes become half lidded as you feel yourself becoming more confident. “Did you finish? Yes or no, Els.”

Ellie suddenly blushes at the nickname, “No.” she whispers with wide eyes, looking right at you.

“Let me help you then.”

“Fuck- please.”

That’s all the consent you need before you practically leap onto her, kissing her ravenously. The kiss quickly becomes sloppy and desperate, you pull away quickly to get some air, “Fuck. Been wanting to do that since I moved in.” Without letting Ellie respond, you latch yourself onto her neck, kissing and taking in her scent that you love so much.

“Mmmph- please…” She whimpers, quite pathetically. “Can’t wait baby..”

You smile at the pet name, kissing her deeply again as your hands explore her toned body.

You swear it’s only ten seconds more and she breaks away, whispering “I-I need you.”

“Oh I fucking know.”

Ellie watches you, eyes unfaltering as you plant kisses down her chest, toned abs, all the way down to her pussy.

Without warning, you start sliding a finger in, “Wanna see how loose you are.” You mutter to yourself. You don’t know why you’re even shocked when you easily push inside of her, deciding to slip another finger in.

Ellie moans immediately, grinding her hips rapidly down onto your hand. She throws her head back and her moans become louder, quicker. Suddenly, something red to the right of Ellie catches your eye as you’re finger fucking her. You were so tunnel visioned, ready to fuck her, that you completely forgot about your missing panties. The panties that she stole. You keep your eyes locked on your underwear as you speed up, as Ellie starts whining, basically crying about how she’s “Gonna cum soon.”

You can feel her g-spot so easily.

“Yeah? You’re gonna fucking tell me you took it or you’re not gonna cum. Use your words.” You instruct, never slowing down your pace.

Ellie gasps, she can’t even pretend she doesn’t know what you’re talking about, “Yeah. Y-Yes I fucking took it. Mmm- wanted to see… needed you so bad.. aaaaahh..” she stammers out and you never stopped fucking her desperate little pussy, occasionally moaning in response to what she tried to say.

Finally getting the confession you needed, you curled your fingers up inside of her. “Fuck- I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum.. gonnacumbabyyy……”

“Cum for me, Ellie.”

She finally does, finally gets to cum after everything that’s happened. She gasps rapidly.

You talk her through her orgasm, saying things like, “That’s it Ellie.” “God you’re so fucking beautiful.”

As soon as she was done squirming, Ellie grabs your face and kisses you deeply. She sits the two of your up and slides her knee in between your thighs. You were so turned on, you swear you could cum just from doing this. It seems as though Ellie understood exactly what you wanted, because she swiftly flips you over onto your back and starts unbuttoning your pants.

You laugh, suddenly getting an idea, “Wait, wait. Turn around and cover your eyes, Els.”

She’s skeptical, raising an eyebrow but complies anyway. After all, you just gave her the best orgasm she’s probably ever had. She hears shuffling for a few seconds, and the zipper of your pants coming undone as you drop them to the floor.

“Tadaaaa!” You exclaim, signaling to Ellie that it’s okay if she turns around.

You swear Ellie’s eyes have never been wider as she sees you wearing nothing but that damn red thong.

She almost drools, “Holyyyyy shiiiitttttt..” and slowly walks over to you, grabbing your waist with her sexy ass hands. “Even better than I was imagining.. need to fuck you right now okay..?” She mutters, mostly to herself, as she’s still too distracted feeling up how the red silk hugs your body.

“Been ready for so long, Els.” You say as you crawl back onto the bed, trying to break her out of her spell.

Ellie climbs on top of you and plays with your nipples, kissing and biting your neck at the same time. You whimper - that’s definitely going to leave marks in the morning. Only after a few seconds her hands leave your chest, moving lower to peel away the red fabric and reveal your dripping pussy.

She gasps, staring for a few moments at how beautiful you are. “Fuck, so so pretty.” She cracks her knuckles, “God, you’re already so wet for me… I’m gonna stretch you out baby, lemme know if you hurt ‘mkay?”

You whine in response, feeling the butterflies in your stomach erupt as she effortlessly slides two fingers in. You gasp as she starts moving, then slowly picking up the pace until she’s basically slamming into your g-spot.

“Ohhh.. f-fuck me.”

Ellie pants as she pumps her gorgeous fingers in and out of you, “That’s jus’ what I’m doin’ baby.” She smirks. Suddenly, she adds one more finger and brings her thumb up to rub your clit, and you almost scream.

It only takes a little more and you’re already on edge. She can feel you clenching around her. You’re so close. She hisses sharply, sucking in the air through her teeth as you take her, “Fuck, see my tattoo moving as I fuck you hon?” She pants, “Doin’ so good for me like this.”

“I- I think I’m gonna cum soon..” You whimper and your legs start shaking. “Ahh,, fuck Ellie-!!”

“Go on baby, you can cum.”

With just that little bit of motivation, you finally have the orgasm you’ve so desperately wanted. It’s so intense as she keeps fucking you senseless, you feel yourself squirt, which almost never happens, the warm fluid surprising you. You cover your face with your hands, so embarrassed that your body is doing this for Ellie. She hushes you, letting you know it’s okay.

You know you’re finally done when you throw your head back, trying to catch your breath. Ellie flops down beside you, smiling at you and waiting for the right time to say something.

“So, wanna like… be my girlfriend now?” She says, absolutely way too nonchalantly.

You look at her and laugh, slapping her arm playfully, “You literally made me see stars, Ellie! Gimme a second!!”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Sorry, sorry! Just couldn’t wait.” You both giggle.

You turn over on your side, kissing her cute little nose, “Yeah.. yeah that’d be nice.”

You smile and Ellie’s face lights up, she quickly plants fast kisses all over your face. “My hot roommate wants to date me!!” She exclaims. You laugh and she pulls you in closer, hugging her arms around you.

She reaches over to turn off the lamp, and the two of you drift off to sleep.

♡

[starkeyisthelastname]

How would reader react when pornstar!rafe comes over to her place after filming a scene with someone else ?

just know pornstar!rafe is a pussy destroyer 😰

It was the text you got, reading ‘Can’t, I’m busy.’ Followed by, ‘Filming a scene today.’ That left you feeling some type of way and you weren’t sure why. Okay, maybe you knew exactly why and that was the more dick he gave you, the more you wanted him. You were both pornstars though, and his job was to fuck women on camera and get paid for it. You couldn’t be jealous. It was inevitable that he would have to film.

As the day went on, you couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe. Some other female pornstar was getting her guts fucked out by him right now, and you weren’t the one getting to experience it. This man had a chokehold on you and you were becoming addicted to the way he made you feel. He was raw, confident, dirty, and didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else said or thought.

You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep as you were startled out of a dream by a pounding on your door. You rubbed your eyes, making your way down the hall and towards the front. You should have looked through the peephole, hell it could have been someone trying to break in, but you opened it anyway against your better judgement. It was Rafe’s massive self storming in that had you fully waking up to realize what was going on.

“Can’t answer a fuckin phone?” He asked, blue eyes peering at you almost predatory as he stalked closer.

“I fell asleep, and why do you even care? You were busy.” You said, evident jealousy dripping from your tongue. You crossed your arms, a challenging sparkle in your pretty eyes as he stared at you for moment. He chuckled, his intimidating height towering over you as he stepped closer.

“Why are you acting jealous for, huh? Gettin too damn attached to this dick, aren’t ya?” He spoke low, large hand coming up to grab your throat. His mustache tickled your lips as he leaned down to look in your eyes. “I like money too much to stop fuckin, pretty girl. You remember what, I said though?” He asked, squeezing your neck harder.

Your eyes couldn’t help but roll back as you were a freak off pain. He pulled away from your face, his lips ghosting over toward your ear as he began to speak. “You are my own personal whore now, yeah? So when I call, you answer the fuckin phone the first time.” He spat harshly in your ear.

You weren’t sure what this weird fucked up situation was that you two were in, but you knew you loved every second of it. He was fucking your life all the way up, his hands digging into your scalp to use your hair as reins as he brutally pounded into your sopping hole.

“Take that shit up your fuckin cunt.” Rafe grunted, toned hips moving at a rapid pace as his thick cock stretched your poor hole out. Your legs were bent back, knees touching your chest as he railed you into oblivion on your own couch.

You were crying from the sheer roughness and pleasure that he was giving to you. A babbling mess, as you fell victim to his nasty ways once again. You were getting too attached to his dick, but what did he expect when he fucked you the way he did. You were soaking his cock, his fat length sliding in and out your messy cunt as he drilled into you.

His body leaned down, his hand yanking your head back roughly so that you were forced to look at him. “This is my fuckin pussy to ruin. You understand that?” He asked, his stache tickling your lips as he tightened the grip on your hair. “You better fuckin answer me when I’m talking to you.”

You let out a gasp, wincing at the burn to your scalp as you were forced to look into darkened blue irises and answer him. “Yes Rafe… a-all yours!” You cried out, earning a vicious laugh from him as he straightened his massive stance back out. He was just as addicted to you and knew you were about to fuck his life all the way up. Just in a completely different kinda way he hadn’t experienced before.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LUCKY — GOJO SATORU.

contents. baths + non sexual nudity, established relationships, tired toru :(, lots of kissies and praise for the babie :(, solid proof in the form of writing of how embarrassingly lovesick i am for this FOOL

it’s past midnight when satoru walks into your bathroom. he doesn’t even question why you’re in the bath so late—just gives you a lopsided grin tiredly as you smile.

“you’re home,” you brighten.

“look at you,” he coos, staring down at you with amused eyes, “waitin’ for me?”

satoru is tired—you can tell from the way the his shoulders are slouched and his blindfold is clutched in his hand. “i was,” you hum in agreement, “c’mere.”

it’s all it takes. he’s stripped down and waiting for you to move up so he can slide behind you in seconds, hand waving to motion you forward. but you’re stubborn—you shake your head as you hold an arm out for him.

“baby,” he whines, “c’mon i was out fighting big bad curses all day. jus’ lemme hold—”

“no. just come here, toru,” you insist.

there’s something about it—something about the way your voice is so gentle, so insistent, so knowing. it’s like you can read him more than he can, sometimes. satoru is tired, you can see it, you can feel it. you can’t carry his burdens, but you can hold him while he holds the weight of the world for a night.

maybe it’ll do for now—maybe it’ll even be enough and more.

“what? feelin’ like pampering me today?” he teases, “aren’t i a lucky guy,” he hums—but he climbs into the tub anyway, settling between your legs, leaning his back against your chest as his head falls back against your shoulder.

instantly, two gentle kisses plant themselves against his head, and his eyes flutter shut. he’s starting to feel the beginnings of a headache form—the gentle thump in his skull just barely there, but persistently present.

your thumbs rubs along the sides of his head, enough pressure to soothe the pain like you know it’s coming—he thinks you must.

“you are a lucky guy,” you giggle, “look at me. such a catch.”

he grins, chuckling that boyish chuckle of his freely in your arms as he relaxes. it’s been a while since he’s relaxed, you think—it’s half past midnight and he’ll be up with the sun in a bit to head back to the school, but it’s nice to know he’s relaxed. even just for this short, rare moment.

“oh yeah,” he nods, lips curled into a grin as he cracks an eye open and peers up at you, “s no catch like my pretty ‘lil baby. i’m living it up.”

“glad you know your privileges,” you murmur contently, shaking your head in amusement as you wrap your arms around his body. one hand rubs over his abs—he wants to tease you about feeling him up, wants to make a sly comment about missing his body more than him while he was gone. but there’s something about it, about the way it’s so slow and soothing and soft—it’s so painfully soft, satoru swallows.

finally, he lets his body go slack against yours, sliding down so his head rests against your chest and the water soaks more of his body. it’s warm. the water and your arms. it’s all so, so warm and forgiving.

“aren’t you gonna tell me how lucky you are too? i’ll listen, don’t worry. no interruptions.”

“yeah?” you chuckle, threading fingers through his hair and pulling a soft sigh from him, “wanna know how lucky i am?”

“course,” he murmurs, “well, i already know you’re lucky. it’s me after all—but i’m not opposed to hearing it.”

“how humble of you, satoru,” you snort.

he grins wider—he hasn’t had a chance to smile all day. not properly, at least.

“feel free to start any second,” he says with a wink. then his eyes flutter shut again as your thumb traces his cheek, ever so gently running along the soft angles of his face.

it’s pretty—everything about him is pretty. there are no ugly parts to satoru. just the parts painted from cruel hands. they’re beautiful too, you like to think, in their own, fragile little ways.

“okay,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head, “i’m very lucky,” you murmur into his hair.

he hums, mumbling a quiet, “knew it.”

“lucky i have such a handsome face to greet,” you pepper kisses along his forehead and find his cheek, giving it an affectionate little bite that makes him huff out an amused chuckle. “and he’s so tall too,” you add, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“that all he is?” he pouts, “just a pretty face? you’re breaking my heart, baby.”

“no,” you say quietly, grabbing his hand and brushing a thumb over his knuckles, “he’s also kind. too kind, sometimes,” you say quietly, “he comes home a bit later than usual every once in a while because he took his students out to eat. he loves them a bit too much, i think.”

“no such thing as too much love,” he hums, squeezing your hand.

you smile, admiring him as he lays against you, small in your hold even with the larger than life weight he carries.

“and he’s strong,” you add, “really strong. it’s not fair sometimes,” you whisper, “he’s got so much on his plate.”

“he handles it fine,” he assures, “he always does.”

“and then he still makes time for little old me,” you say fondly, kissing his shoulder, “never lets me feel lonely. he’s too good to me.”

“there’s no such thing as too good for you,” he gasps offendedly, pouting like you’ve insulted him, “he’s definitely not—”

“and sometimes, he comes home tired. and he tries to act like he’s not because he’s a bit of a prick who doesn’t let me help, but i’m smart and i know him well so i’ve figured it out. and if i’m extra lucky, i might get to hold him for a bit like this and help him relax.”

you squeeze him gently for emphasis, holding him closer as you press your nose into his neck and breathe in his smell. it’s like cologne that’s rudely expensive and that sweet smell only satoru has—it’s all you want to breathe in for the rest of your days.

you hope he’ll allow you that much. something tells you he will.

satoru swallows thickly at that, rubs a thumb over your bare thigh as he rests his free hand over it, the other still in your grasp.

and then, quietly, “maybe he’s fine just coming home to you,” he shrugs, “who can stay tired with such a sweet face waiting at home?”

“i don’t know,” you say thoughtfully, “he’s got a lot to take care of. wonder how he does it.”

“he’s probably the strongest,” he shoots with an easy grin, “sounds like the strongest to me.”

“he is,” you nod, “he’s a lot more than that too. i’m lucky he’s mine.”

“oh yeah?” he drawls—there’s something a little shaky about his voice though.

you choose not to mention it, pressing soft, delicate kisses along his jaw as you murmur, “yeah. he makes me feel really, really lucky. love him so much.”

“love you too,” satoru breathes, “guess we’re both really, really lucky.”

don’t talk to me i don’t want to be perceived. that’s enough softness for a lifetime so the next time i write him he’s getting hit by a bus

[tender-rosiey]

butterfly — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: eee it’s been a while; I hope I didn’t get rusty 🧍‍♀️

your little girl has been independent ever since she came out of your womb. you’re pretty sure that if it was up to her, she would’ve walked out by herself.

anyway.

she was quickly able to hold her little bottle on her own—satoru couldn’t have been prouder. add to that her very smug look while she was doing it; it’s high school satoru all over again. she is also pretty intelligent for her age; she is able to get through the idea she wants, one way or another.

for example, you remember that one time when she wanted to go out, but wasn’t able to get it through as directly as she wanted. so, since she couldn’t reach the front door on her own yet, she made use of her surroundings.

during that time, satoru was too busy cuddling you and telling you about what his students—kids—did at school.

conveniently for your daughter, however, your husband’s blindfold was put somewhere beside her, and your daughter, relating that he only wears it when he goes out, held it aggressively and started swinging it around, blabbering a bunch of nonsense.

hearing the call of your darling daughter, satoru quickly got there—he says it’s his daddy six sense, you say that your dear d/n simply knows how to get anyone’s attention. that has been proven more than a 100 times in the school.

“what’s up, baby? what can daddy do for you?” he knelt down in front of her, hands hovering over her sides in case she fell back.

“embah!” your daughter huffed and showed him his blindfold.

he tilted his head in confusion, “do you want to wear it?”

she frowned, shaking her head. she also realized that her papa is a big idiot so she opted for him to pick her up which he gladly did. then the little missy started pointing to certain directions.

and satoru obeyed, until they finally reached the front door.

“ohhh,” he then grinned at the little girl, “you wanna go out?”

her frown instantly disappeared and she threw her tiny arms around him, squealing and giving him her version of kisses.

he came to you later that day, boasting about how smart his little baby is, and that’s it probably the work of his genes and yours since the both of you are a “perfect match”.

following that, she was also able to get the hang of walking—more like waddling—fairly quickly.

so yeah, she is independent.

and that’s why her little independent self was trying to walk in the park on her own, refusing to be held by anyone.

you and satoru had no choice but to follow close by but far enough that she wouldn’t get sad.

it was a nice opportunity, your husband said, since you two can hold act all lovey dovey while still keeping an eye on the little princess on the run.

you are holding hands, gently swinging them. meanwhile, satoru has a camera in his other hand, recording his daughter’s every step.

“d/n! baby! look at daddy!”

shaking her head, she squeals and speeds up her waddling. that ushers satoru to start walking faster, dragging you with him, “‘toru, wait!”

“that little devil is not waiting for no one, pretty girl!”

the devil in question looks back only to see her dad’s smirk, and she knows well that it means trouble. her waddling intensifies and she tries widening her steps, but she ends up stumbling and falling to the ground, face first.

“oh no, d/n!” you gasp, quickly rushing to her side and carrying her in your arms, “you okay, baby?”

your husband is swiftly by your side, cradling both you and your daughter. a snort escapes your husband, however. he has to let his opinion known, “that was such a lame fall.”

“satoru!”

“what? it was—“

he is cut off by your daughter’s laughter as she claps her hands. she swings her legs and tries to wiggle out of your grasp to once again return to the wild—also read the park.

she successfully does so, and before going running towards the flowers, she gives you and satoru a kiss on the cheek. satoru takes advantage of your attention being diverted to press a sweet kiss on your other cheek, “our cutie is growing, see?”

“but I don’t want her to grow yet,” you murmur while your hands wrap around his waist. your eyes never leave your daughter who is following a little butterfly.

satoru blinks thoughtfully, before pouting himself, “me neither.”

your thoughts are stopped short by the excited scream of your daughter, “bata!”

“ma, pa, bata!” she runs towards you two, pointing at the blue butterfly resting on the flower.

you grin at her, “yes, d/n, a very pretty butterfly!”

the girl excitedly runs after said butterfly while you feel your husband nudge your shoulder lightly, “you know…”

you side-eye him, knowing that what’s coming next is one of his ‘genius’ ideas. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “we could always make another one.”

you pinch him gently, and he dramatically yelps as always. your daughter is quickly back from her little expedition with quite the surprise as well.

she raises a flower, that she plucked, to you, and she smiles, “mama! pretty!”

“aww, d/n,” you kneel down, and she takes the freedom to situate the flower in your hair. you lovingly pull her into your embrace and start peppering her cute little face with smooches.

she is busy squealing and laughing while satoru pouts at the two of you. he gives his best puppy eyes to your daughter, “doesn’t daddy get a flower?”

d/n quickly shakes her head, so satoru switches to you, “babe, can I at least some kisses?”

a giggle escapes your lips, “it’s d/n time, ‘toru.”

and satoru gojo is, yet again, left to wallow in his pain of being rejected by his two pretty girls.

but fear not as you can always count on mr. squirrel to keep satoru company—if attacking your husband counts as keeping him company anyway.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[cherryobx]

pheromone perfume

pairing: jj maybank x reader

request: Could you write about that one perfume that’s making all men go crazy over their girls, like all clingy but with jj? Thank you (if not that’s fine sorry) 💕

a/n: thank you for the request @m3ntally-unstable! so sorry it took me so long to write! hope you enjoy it! and if any of yall find any typos or smth then let me know im too lazy to proofread lol

summary: you accidentally buy a pheromone perfume and JJ can't keep his hands off of you

warnings: none i think

wc: 0.9k

It was a total accident. You didn’t realise at the time of purchasing that you had bought a pheromone perfume. It smelled good and that’s why you bought it, not paying much attention to the label on the bottle. It was not very strong but it smelled sweet and fresh.  Only when JJ started acting weirder than normal did you start to suspect that your new perfume might be the cause.

When it first happened you were in the kitchen making yourself a sandwich and JJ came to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled his glass to the brim with cold water, chugging it afterwards.

“Can you make me one too? Pretty please.” he asks, looking over to where you’re assembling your mid-day snack with his puppy-dog eyes.

“Sure.” You happily oblige. You’re making yourself one anyway, might as well make two. It’s not a problem.

“Thank you.” He kisses you on the cheek and intends to turn to leave and go back to the living room but something stops him in his tracks. You smell different. 

He doesn’t understand it at first. You always smell good, good enough to bite. But this is different. He leans in closer, his nose almost touching your neck, and takes a deep whiff.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

JJ almost doesn’t register what you had just asked him. His mind is in a whirlwind and his mind is foggy, the only thought in his head is that he needs to be closer to you. He needs to touch you.

“You smell so good.” He stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, face pressed to the crook of your neck.

“JJ.”

“Hmm?” He presses small kisses to your neck, behind your ear, on your jaw. He’s so enamoured he can’t get enough of this new scent of yours. It smells like you always do, except somehow stronger and even better. It has enhanced your smell and it’s addicting.

“Are you okay?” The sandwich-making is on pause for the moment and you put down the knife in your hand.

“Mhm.” His mind barely forms any other thoughts than you.

You turn around in his arms and he lifts his head from your neck and meets your eye. He doesn’t waste a second to kiss you. You melt into his touch and let yourself enjoy the moment for a second.

His big hands snake behind your thighs and he lifts you on the kitchen counter, stepping between your parted legs. He breaks your kiss just to move back down to your neck and press even more kisses there, not so secretly smelling you again.

“JJ,” you pant.

He just grunts in response.

“If you want a sandwich you’re gonna have to take your hands off of me for a sec.”

“Fuck the sandwich.”

For the rest of the day he’s unable to keep his hands to himself. He’s constantly touching you, following you around like a dog. He’s being clingier than normal but you don’t give it that much thought at the moment. Maybe he’s just really into your new perfume. 

Later you start to think that it’s kind of weird that the day you buy a new perfume he can’t stop touching you. You then intentionally don’t wear the perfume for the next couple of days, instead spraying on your old ones that you’re still so fond of. And even though JJ likes those too, has expressed it many times in the past, he’s not as clingy anymore. Of course, he’s touchy and affectionate like he usually is  but not to that extreme degree.

So you put the new perfume on a few days later to test your working theory and JJ’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. It’s like he smelled it from miles away because as soon as he’s at your place he’s almost climbing you like a tree. You called him over for a movie night and you’re on the couch together. Usually you lean against JJ or he has his arm wrapped around you or you’re laying on his chest. But this time JJ is literally smothering you. He’s laying on top of you and his head is resting on your collarbone. Occasionally he presses a light kiss there or on your neck. 

“JJ, I need to go pee.” He groans at that. “Can’t you just hold it?” he mutters into your skin.

“That’s not how it works, JJ. Please let me get up.” 

He reluctantly rolls off of you, a mopey look on his face. “Can I come with you?”

You’re confused. “Come with me? To pee? Why?”

He shrugs. “Just because.”

“It’ll take two seconds. I’ll be back before you know it.” JJ throws his head back and lets out another groan. 

You go to the bathroom, do your business, and just before your hand grabs the door knob you eye the perfume from the corner of your eye, sitting on the bathroom shelf. It makes you wonder. Maybe it really is the perfume. You pick it up and for the first time actually read the label on it. “Pheromone perfume,” you mutter to yourself and then scoff. It’s almost funny.

You return to the living room where JJ has been impatiently waiting for the last few minutes. “Took you long enough. Back to your spot, princess.”

You lay back down and he lies on you once again, but not before pressing a small peck to your lips.

Safe to say you’ll be using your new perfume more often.