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black-lake · 2 months

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The path of warriors

⚡︎ Aries, leo, capricorn, scorpio and aquarius north node.

🏇🏇🏇

The north node is your karmic path in this lifetime, and as many charts I study and analyze, people with these signs always fascinate me the most with their life stories. These people tend to have the most dramatic journeys I noticed. They all share things in common, persevering alone, beating all odds, relying on themselves, and setting a good example for others. On that note, how have YOU been?? I hope life hasn't been testing you too badly? The day you'll be crowned will come, so hold on love 👑✨👸 I won’t be hyping you up in a sweet way I’ll be shouting at you so don’t mind my aries mercury.

People with these north node signs have to embody the spirit of the warrior, the fighter, the advocate, the trail blazer, the protector, they have no other choice. They persevere through unfathomable hardships. Many of them break generational patterns, needing to forge new ways rather than repeating the old. They remind me of the dragon, the lion, the tiger, the serpent, the owl, the eagle, all the spirit animals that are strong and powerful. This is a check in with you, an acknowledgment for your spirit, and a loving pat in the back from your leo north node friend. 🌞💛

Aries north node.

Rulers - south node: venus, north node: mars

How does it feel like having to fight and defend yourself since you were a child? Being attacked, played with, tested and teased by those around you, even adults coming at you? Being underestimated for your fighting ability and being put in the middle of a battle, unwillingly, even though all you really want is peace and harmony. You found it hard to stand on your own two feet, asserting dominance means conflict. You think you'll find peace but you're put in another battle. I’d be surprised if you haven’t had to fight physically at least once in your life. GET your ass up and STAND up for yourself, loudly, yes make a fuss. Let your voice be heard even if it disrupts the energy in the room. The universe claps for you when you beat their ass and hide the bible if god watching 💥🐯 (kendrick got an aries north node). Never let a bunch of cowards disrespect you, you're up to the challenge. The ways you move in life don’t have to be understood, you're forging new paths. Those who follow crowds lack your strong mindset, lack your vision and bravery. Move with integrity, and remember the truth always prevails at the end.

With each battle you win, you're cultivating independence, a strong identity, self respect, autonomy over your life and a sense of direction. You are your greatest project and your most significant accomplishment. You've learned to rely on yourself, becoming an initiator, an entrepreneur, an advocate for justice, and a truth teller. Don't wait for people to join you to start, or compromise your needs and goals for others, you can do it solo. Free yourself from your libra ways of people pleasing and seeking social validation. Pick your battles, understand the difference between aggressiveness and assertiveness, and discern what is truly worth fighting for. You're the one who stands up against bullies and liars. You're one of the warriors that the universe uses for justice.

Trust your ideas and instincts, you got all the answers. The universe fights with you and protects you, you're never totally alone. Mistakes teach us lessons, don’t fear them. You're a natural leader, your passion for life is unmatched. You're distinctive, what represents you can’t be duplicated. When life throws obstacles your way, it's to strengthen your fierce confidence, self assurance and independent spirit. 🐅 When you bravely told the truth, when you went your own way, when you created your own thing, when you walked alone, when you took those risks and said fuck what they say, you inspired many people, you awakened many, you left many in awe of your fiery spirit.

Leo north node.

Rulers - south node: saturn and uranus, north node: sun

How does it feel like to be robbed of your childhood? Being left alone and abandoned as a child? Not receive validation or love? Having your confidence and light targeted and attacked from a young age? Your most beautiful qualities discarded and taken for granted. Your innocence betrayed, your trust and integrity repeatedly broken. Being envied and hated for simply being yourself, for your aura, for shining brightly without lifting a finger. Being alienated, having groups attack you for your unique qualities. Standing confidently alone and walking it all alone. You LEAD, you don't follow, and that can just mean leading your own life. Do you still want to give to others instead of yourself? You can appreciate humanity and inclusivity but release the excessive concern over it. You expose fake groups and encourage authenticity. Princess Diana did everything she wasn’t supposed to do and shined bright doing it, her kindness was golden and her strength was a threat, so they could only attack her (she was a leo north node). Honor yourself, you were blessed by the sun. ☀️💫

You lead from the heart and you're guided by your inner child. Loving yourself and embracing every part of you is for the brave. Leave that group mindset behind, those that just want to fit in are cowards, fuck what the group thinks. Your love, loyalty, strength and generosity are gifts to the world. Don't try to hide your heart, or fall into your aquarius south node ways of turning into an ice queen, isolating yourself and building this artificial heart on top of your real heart, for the greater good or for a bigger cause, or for protecting yourself. Just don’t give to people and places that don't value you. You're learning to bravely STAND up for yourself even if many are against you. You're naturally protected when you are accepting of yourself, and building your self esteem in a genuine way that is based on deep values and not societal expectations.

Heal and free your inner child, don't let the outside noise steal your joy, let yourself play and explore. You'll meet the sun at the end no matter how dark it gets. All those obstacles were meant to make you stronger, develop this inner strength of a lion, this fiery confidence and assurance that isn’t shaken by the outside world. ☄️🦁 That’s who you’re meant to be my love. You're meant to put yourself first at all times, to love, validate and compliment yourself. You’re here to shine in your authenticity. You inspire more people than you know, your spirit won’t go unnoticed, your purity of heart always leaves a mark in this world. Your light is infectious.

Capricorn north node.

Rulers - south node: moon, north node: saturn

How does it feel like being introduced to the harsh realities of the world since a young age? Having to parent yourself without enough support? Being underestimated as a child, restricted, and made to feel inadequate? Being shamed for your sensitivity and emotions. Being placed in the most troubled family with difficult circumstances and told to create a legacy? like hello? universe?? am I a joke to you? Being expected to take responsibility for something or someone. Having pressure constantly put onto you. You become the hardest worker, and then still being messed with? Like oops there’s no reward, do it again. Why are you surprised, you’re saturn’s puppet. The truth is the universe got your back. Reminds of me of Eminem (he’s a cap north node), see how he beat all odds and became one of the greatest? a role model both in his field and as a father. You show people that nothing is impossible. Those lessons become your greatest gifts that guide you to build a stronger and unshakable foundation. Break free from that shell you're used to, you EXPAND beyond that. You're here to be self made, rags to riches. 🎖️✨

Recognize the invaluable qualities you got, the talents, the unmatched energy, the patience, ambition, determination, the caring heart and courageous spirit. Give that respect to yourself FIRST, respect your core values and be proud of what made you. Saturn wants nothing but mastery, it’s your soul that craves mastery this lifetime. 🪐💫 You're learning to build your own safety, at home and in the world, and create your own rules. Let go of your cancer south node tendencies of clinging to the past, repeating mistakes because of childish insecurities or your need to be needed and respected by others. Nurture and provide for yourself by stepping into the world as a self sufficient, disciplined, and goal oriented adult.

Realize that all those difficult experiences happen to help you let go of the past, to build a stable and balanced emotional world. One thing for sure, nothing can stop you, setbacks and failure only fuel your motivation and life force. Rest assured you are promised the respect you yearn for, the success, stability and comfort you dreamed of. You’re one of the most resilient people, unforgettable. Your life story sparks a drive in others to chase their dreams, it inspires more people than you know. The generation will never be the same after you. When you get tired, you can slow down, but remember that everything you need is within you, never doubt that.

Scorpio north node.

Rulers - south node: venus, north node: mars and pluto

How does it feel like having to endure major losses? Having things constantly crashing down before you? Having to fight addictions, destructions and oppositions from everywhere? Not getting a hold of any sense of stability. Feeling like what you chase is escaping you. Experiencing betrayals and having people bring you down, waiting to see you fall. Being the one to blame and villinize when their shadows are triggered. Having no choice but to fight back and learn to survive. Your truth seeking and curious nature triggers many. You go to extreme lengths to find out the truth and seek justice. Your path being ruled by pluto, it removes that which is obsolete, unneeded, no matter how hard you hold into it. You have to be comfortable with the uncomfortable. Your path involves confronting your own shadow self. Survival and regeneration allow you to discover and become fully aware of your true power, limitless potential, and divine nature. “Unstoppable” by sia (she's a scorpio north node) narrates well this story of resilience. You're an alchemist of self, a transmuter of energy, a fighter in all realms. 🐉🔥

This restless mind of yours and psychic abilities you develop aren’t for nothing, they're gifts to help you surrender and trust the universe, the one thing you can't seem to do. You are the butterfly, always cocooning, always emerging. Your life path is a series of metamorphosis. Like a butterfly you're turned into liquid, dissolved, before you choose to spread your wings and fly. 🦋✨ The universe is teaching you that nothing is constant, everything changes, and our innate value as a soul doesn’t. Let go of the illusion of stability. You can choose to flow with the transformative waves instead of fighting them. It's okay to trust and rely on others too, accept it as a gift from the universe. Break free from your taurus south node ways of being too attached to material possessions. Putting too much value on material and physical pleasures won't help you evolve.

Embrace the spiritual side of our human experience, that’s what generates and creates the physical. The painful challenges you faced were meant to shift your values, for you to see and use your power for good. You have the potential to break generational curses and the responsibility to choose wisely between doing better or worse. You can become a great source of inspiration and comfort for others. Whenever I feel like giving up I literally look up a scorpio north node person. Just know that you can save lives. People confide in you, they share their deepest secrets and traumas and you inspire them to keep going because you understand that even the most terrible events will pass and bring about growth and beautiful rewards.

Aquarius north node.

Rulers - south node: sun, north node: saturn and uranus

How does it feel like being the different and outcast child? Growing up in a chaotic and unpredictable environment? Experiencing discrimination or being looked down at. Having situations and people try to humble you. Having your ideas, beliefs and findings rejected and misinterpreted. You're literally vibrating on a different frequency. You might be surrounded by a community or be totally alone, regardless, having a different mission can leave you feeling alienated. You've got an independent mind, you're an innovator, bringing all that's new and futuristic to the world. 🛸✨ You show people different ways of thinking and doing things, breaking and setting trends. Your desire to be a social activist, a scientist and a humanitarian helps us progress. Being ruled by uranus, expect the unexpected, all sorts of twists and turns, don’t be too attached or take things personally and react from your ego. When you embrace your uniqueness, not try to fit in, and do things for the greater good not for validation, you align with your mission. You're a voice for others and that's a responsibility not to take lightly.

While staying true to yourself, broaden your vision beyond what only affects you, recognize that we're all interconnected. You must learn to share the spotlight and celebrate all others. Let go of your old leo tendencies of extravagance, self importance and self serving behavior, they’ll only pull you backwards. We progress together and you are a catalyst for evolution. You have a deep connection to the earth and the universe, honoring your place within it. You're perplexed by those bums that lack decency and humanity and carelessly harm this earth. Sza, one of my fav artists today got an aquarius north node, and she embodies it well. If you're familiar with her story, you'll know she comes from a different and diverse background, her music style is distinctive, her interests are weird or unexpected, and her humanity and empathy make her relatable and admirable.

Your mission is so important my love, no one can do it but you. Your ability to see solutions beyond conventional teachings are gifts to the world. You recognize that everyone is unique, you celebrate their differences, and encourage individuality in others. People like you are the ones that awaken this world from outdated ideologies and conditionings. It's why this is one of my fav north nodes, it drives us forward by seeking freedom and authenticity, rather than conforming. You are a radiant shining star that holds much needed hope for everyone. 🌬️⭐️

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formulawolff · 4 months

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iii. golden girl - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 3.3k

warnings: age gap, cursing, yearning, pining, some sexual content, power imbalances, toto wanting to absolutely rail you, some slight mentions of a size kink, yadayadayada, mature content!

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“holy fuck! holy fuck! holy fucking shit!”

“come here!”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

james squeezes you tightly, nearly sweeping you off your feet as the team swarms your car, fireworks bursting in the night. it thunders through the stands, yet you can barely hear a thing as the team surrounds the two of you, jeering. tears sting your eyes, blurring your vision through the visor.

yet, this was no time for tears.

raising your arms, you clamber on to your car, standing on top of it. you pump your fists in the air.

“we did it! we fucking did it!”

your voice is muffled slightly by the helmet, but your team understands your words, cheering in response. hopping off the car, you throw off your helmet, hairs plastered to your forehead, cheeks burning from the heat.

“how did we manage that?” james is as astonished as you are, nearly trembling with excitement. although it was substantially late in the evening, he was bright eyed-and bushy tailed.

the team principal was probably running on fumes by now, but you knew the adrenaline coursing through veins would keep him wide awake in the hours to come.

“i don’t know,” you shake your head, “but we did it.”

“max has some competition, eh?” he teases, a hand tousling your hair.

“i would not go that far,” your cheeks burned once again, but this time, it was not from the heat.

you couldn’t stop grinning. no matter how hard you tried, the smile would just come back.

it was more than likely from the fact that you just made history.

for the first time in seventy-four years of formula one, you were the first american woman in history to win a grand prix.

you made history today. and you would probably continue to make a name for yourself, break records, and obliterate barriers.

fuck, this was an amazing day.

probably one of the best days of your life.

“good fucking job!”

“amazing race out there!”

“we love you!”

praise floods your ears as you make your way to the podium, guided by james. the stands are still somewhat packed, and you blow a few kisses and wave to fans as you stroll along.

your heart was still thumping, blood roaring in your ears. euphoria courses through your veins, the feeling completely unmatched to anything you had ever felt before. it buzzes from your fingertips to your toes, your steps feeling light compared to the rush of the race.

you were on cloud nine.

making your way onto the podium, you step into the first place spot, beaming as max and checo follow suit, stepping on their designated places. your respective home flags roll down, the star spangled banner filling your ears.

tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t help but shed a few, wiping them away with your hand as the anthem rolls on, your team waiting patiently below.

is this how max felt every time he won?

was this the high he was always chasing after?

because now you understood. now you understood exactly why drivers were so determined to win. when you started your formula one career, you were more determined than ever to just place in a race. to prove the ones who had doubted you wrong. to rub it in their faces that you were a worthy competitor. most of all, to show the world what you were made of as a female driver.

now, here you were.

proving to the world that you were not only determined, but you were an exceptional driver.

you were capable of winning races.

and in your heart, you knew you were so capable of winning so many more.

as the trophy is placed in your hands, you pump it in the air, the williams racing crew applauding. there are some shouts, some cries of joys, and suddenly, you feel a shower of champagne cascading down your suit.

glancing up, you notice that both max and sergio are holding champagne bottles in their hands, spraying not only you, but each other. giggling, you reach down, picking up your own bottle. the three of you erupt with laughter, as you douse one another. at one point, you chase max with it, tugging on the collar of his fire suit and pouring it down his back.

the rest of the evening is a blur. everyone morphed together: reporters, crew members, even james. everything that was said to you went in one ear, and straight out the other.

winning a grand prix was exhilarating, but god did you hate the press that followed after.

what seemed like hours later, you were finally back at your motorhome, kicking open the door. you were sticky from the champagne, your hair caked to the nape of your neck and cap. your muscles ached, desperate for some sort of relief.

racing an 1,800 pound car was no easy feat.

and you were beyond exhausted.

physically, mentally, and emotionally.

of course, the first thing you did after the podium celebration consisted of facetiming your parents. even with the time difference, they stayed up and watched, nearly blowing out the speaker of your phone when you called.

after a quick shower, you were perched on your couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. part of you wanted to fill the empty space with a pet, but you knew that all of the travel would be hard on any animal. perhaps during the offseason you would consider a cat. a big fluffy maine coon or a sleek russian blue would be perfect.

all over social media, american fans flooded the feed with memes, edits, and comments. all of them were in support of you. and for the first time in a long time, you felt the urge to sit and read everything that was said.

not only were your parents, james, and team proud, but your country was as well.

as an edit plays on tik tok, you can’t help but laugh as you hear the sound, “what the fuck is a kilometer?” paired with photos and snippets of you from the grand prix. god, were these people so fast when it came to posting the edits. where the hell did they find these clips so quickly anyway?

a knock at your door startles you, head snapping up.

although the crew wanted to party, you had to inform them that it would have to be postponed. even though you were still running on all of the adrenaline, it was slowly trickling away, leaving your eyelids heavy and body sore.

carefully, you trudge to the door, wincing as a twinge of pain sears through your neck. opening the door, your eyes widen.

once again, it was toto wolff.

this time, he had a small package in his hand. it was a crisp white paper, wrapped neatly with a royal blue bow.

“i figured i would swing by and congratulate you on your accomplishment.”

“thank you,” apprehensively, you accept the gift in his hand, “it’s a bit late, you know.”

“i know, i know,” he exhales, “i figured i would do this privately instead of in front of the whole world.”

“the whole world as in my team?” you arch a brow.

“yes,” he answers, swaying slightly, “can i come in?”

peering past his broad shoulders, you survey the surroundings. since it was so late, most of the crew had retired to their respective hotel rooms or motorhomes. now, it was most of the cleanup and mechanical crew, tearing down signs and cleaning up litter.

biting your lip, you nod, inviting the austrian in, “come in.”

this time, you could sense that he was nervous. you usher him to the couch, urging him to sit. you find a spot on the opposite end, maintaining your distance. there’s a moment of silence between the two of you, toto eyeing your current attire.

of course he had to come by while you were in your pajamas.

well, pajamas that consisted of a black skims tee and grey sweatshorts. shorts that were a little revealing, at that.

breaking the silence, you cough, “why did you really come by?”

“you know why.”

“i’m not joining your team,” you roll your eyes, “you can’t buy my decision with gifts, either.”

“oh?” his brows raise, “can i buy it with something else, then?”

“no,” you shake your head, “you can’t.”

“well, i tried,” he puts his hand up in defeat, “it seems you have made your decision.”

the austrian begins to stand up, smoothing out a wrinkle in his pants. yet, your spring forward, your hand delicately grasping his wrist as he turns, “wait.”

“hmm?” he hums, “what is it? reconsidering?”

“can you–” warmth fills your cheeks as he peers down at you, prompting you to speak, “i can’t stop thinking about the last time you were here. and the time we were in monaco.”

“monaco?” he echoes, “i don’t recall monaco.”

“you were probably too drunk to remember.”

your heart swells as his fingertips reach out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ears. it’s a gentle act, his hand massaging your scalp for a moment, “no, i remember. when i called you a golden girl and you acted like you’d never been complimented in your life. i offered you a drink too, and you refused. probably didn’t want to ruin your image as a golden girl, hmm?”

“you’re a little shit,” you mutter, earning a hearty laugh in return, “but anyway i–”

“i can’t stop thinking about it either,” toto settles back down on the couch. this time, he is not a couple of feet away. he plops down right next to you, only inches of space separating you two.

“i probably think about you too much.”

“why?” you blurt out, “why, though? i’m just another driver. i’m not anything special.”

“not anything special? little dove, you are by far one of the most beautiful women i have ever seen. ever since i saw your image circulating around social media, i could not help but stare in awe. you’re practically a model, and you drive exceptionally well? like i said, you’re an inspiration. you’re confident. you’re level-headed. that is a package deal, schatz.”

“you literally said the other night that you were trying to manipulate me into accepting your offer,” the notes in your tone are solemn.

the team principal cocks his head, shocked at your attempt to throw him off guard. yet, your face falls as he bears a grin, his tone matter-of-fact.

“you’re not very good at this whole good cop, bad cop thing.”

“i’d be much better at it if you weren’t so handsome,” your lips form a pout, and toto inches closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck.

fingertips massage the area, earning a sigh of relief, “am i really that handsome?”

“do you not remember the way i scurried away after you offered me to buy me drinks in monaco? i was a mess. i’m a mess every single time i talk to you.”

“is that why you’re so against joining mercedes?” the inquiry is innocent, with no underlying reason to prod or pry.

well, it was not necessarily the entire reason you were against accepting toto’s offer, but it definitely was one of them. you wouldn’t be able to last a second in the paddock without climbing all over him and attacking him.

if you weren’t careful enough, you’d probably get pregnant one night in the paddock.

“i just think about what would happen if i did,” you shrug, averting away from his gaze, “there’s no denying i am attracted to you. i can’t just sit here and lie.”

“i know you are,” his hand wanders to your shoulder blades, carefully kneading each one, “fuck, schatz. you’re so tight.”

you’re so tight.

the comment sends you spiraling, hands instinctively shielding your face so he wouldn’t see how flustered you were. between your thighs, your clit throbs, and you desperately wanted him to take care of it.

you prayed and hoped to whatever god that existed that he wouldn’t notice the wet spot that was pooling in your underwear. if he kept up the messaging and the comments, it was bound to be visible on your shorts.

“hiding, are we? don’t be afraid, little dove. i’ve done my research. you’ve made comments about me on your social media.”

“i was sixteen!” you groan, burying your face even deeper, “fuck, fuck, fuck. this is so embarrassing. i should have wiped everything before i started racing.”

“some new accounts wouldn’t have hurt,” despite your embarrassment, he’s gentle, carefully tending to your sore muscles, “after that race, i’m not shocked at how tense you are.”

“are you actually proud of me or are you just saying these things so i’ll join your little team.”

“i’m actually proud,” one hand continues massaging, while the other finds your temple, attempting to separate your hands from your face, “can you look at me?”

hesitantly, you lower your hands. as you do so, toto’s lips curl into a grin, “there she is.”

his eyes search yours momentarily, and you feel the urge to cover your face once more. but you don’t, allowing him to look. you can’t quite put your finger on what he was searching for, but you catch the glint in his eyes.

it was simply admiration. drinking in every little part of you. memorizing every little freckle, every lash, every little detail that defined your features.

reaching out, his thumb traces along your jawline, trailing upwards to your cheek. you nearly collapse under the gentle touch, every fiber in your being screaming to maintain your composure.

“such a beautiful girl,” toto whispers, his voice so low you could barely hear it, “why don’t you want to be with me at mercedes?”

“i made a commitment,” you affirm, your heart nearly stopping as toto leans in, “i don’t break my promises.”

“and i am a man of my word. i’ll make you a world champion, schatz.”

your lashes flutter as his thumb caresses your cheekbone, “aren’t you a married man, toto?”

“that’s what you’re worried about?” a light chuckle flows from his lips, “i’m trying to make you the deal of a lifetime and you’re fretting over whether or not i’m a married man?”

your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in even more, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, “this is wrong.”

“join me at mercedes,” toto murmurs, lips ghosting over yours, “please, be my world champion.”

“do you have a crush on me, mr. wolff?”

there’s a noise that rumbles in his throat. it’s guttural, almost animalistic, “crushes are for children. let’s just say i’ve had my eye on you for some time.”

“how long have you had your eye on me?”

“so many questions, schatz,” toto tuts, your heart races as his hand wanders, finding your thigh, “what is it going to take to make you mine? i am not one to beg, but i am starting to think i just may have to.”

you stutter as his thumb inches towards your inner thigh, tracing small circles, “i-i just need some time to think about it. there’s so much at stake here, and it’s just so overwhelming.”

“what can i do to help ease that stress?” toto shifts his body, making his way to the floor, “tell me what i need to do.”

the temperature of the room skyrockets as he gets on his knees, situating himself between your legs. his hands, oh so warm, grip your thighs.

the austrian presses soft kisses all over, earning a mewl from you. as you squirm, you can feel him grin against your heated skin as he stops momentarily, looking up at you.

fuck, was he as gorgeous as ever, sitting between your thighs. brunette strands fell perfectly in his face, framing it just right. in the dim light, you notice the pink hue dusting his cheeks. his lips are plush, and you fight the urge to kiss him right there, but you hold back.

licking his lower lip, his eyes are darkened, consumed by lust, “tell me baby, what do you want? how can i help put your mind at ease? you’re practically dripping right now. do you want me to take care of you?”

“oh fuck,” you’re nearly breathless, “i – yes. please.”

“i’ll pamper you baby,” toto’s breath fans against your thigh, “you just have to promise me something.”

“and that is?”

“you’ll seriously consider my offer. i’ll expect a decision by miami,” he snaps out of his lust-filled trance for just a second, “i mean that. you will need to find me in miami and tell me what you decide. in-person. nothing over text or social media. i can’t wait around for you forever, schatz. i am going to have to consider my other options if you don’t give me a clear answer.”

“that’s not enough time–” you protest, yet your swiftly interrupted by his lips colliding with yours.

the kiss is fiery, nearly sweeping you off the couch. his lips mold with yours, one hand remaining on your thigh while the other wraps around the base of your neck, bringing you even closer to him. a soft moan rises in your throat as his tongue finds yours, fingers delving into the waistband of your shorts.

“so beautiful,” he pants against your lips, “so, so, so beautiful. so wet for me. fuck. i do this to you?”

“yes,” you nod, “i’ve been wet since you walked in the door.”

the confession sends toto reeling, the austrian nearly losing control in that moment. his grasp on your neck tightens ever so slightly, his breathing ragged.

he had you exactly where he wanted you.

ever since it was announced that you were joining the world of formula one as a driver for williams racing, toto was determined to have you on his team. he was not lying when he said that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. while he tried to play it off, the team principal had a significant crush on the williams driver.

the moment he saw that photo of you shaking james hand, he knew he was a goner.

not only were you absolutely stunning, someone with a gift like yours needed to be put on a pedestal. and fuck, was he so frustrated when he couldn’t sign you. at the time, mercedes was full. he had lewis and george, who were oh so talented.

of course, the team principal needed to determine whether he was simply acting on his own attraction, or if this would be a good business venture. mercedes had maintained a decent reputation. there were a few fuck-ups through the years, but nothing so significant it ruined his career.

however, the decision to sign you to mercedes may ruin his career. he knew if he signed you, he would not be able to keep things professional. he would want you every day, every hour, every minute, every second you were around him. he would crave to just fuck you every chance he got. and if a single soul got wind of that? he would be done for. he knew he would be let go immediately.

yet, that was the least of his worries.

now, his priority was taking you in, bringing you home to mercedes. although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, he knew you would shine if you went to mercedes. you would shine like the sun.

you would be formula one’s golden girl.

finally, after all of those weeks of pining after you, after his attempt to flirt with you in monaco, all of those stolen glances, after all fighting all of those urges to just corner you in your paddock one day and lose all of his inhibitions, confessing every sin that ran rampant in his mind.

you were right here. and you were beneath him, so breathtaking and innocent.

you were an angel.

his angel.

“the things i would do to you right now–”

a series of knocks rings through the space, so crisp and sharp.

“hey, it’s daniel! can we talk?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

thank you so much for reading! please let me know if you would like to be tagged for future chapters! <3

#toto wolff #formula one #formula 1 #f1 x reader #toto wolff x reader #f1 #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #formula one x reader #lewis hamilton #mercedes amg #williams racing #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #sergio perez #williams racing f1 #f1 x y/n #formula one x you

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philistiniphagottini · 4 months

Text

Calcharo is hot and I desperately wanted him to warm my clit in his mouth. Ahhhhhh I hope you like this, feedback is welcome, enjoy

cw. smut, oral sex (fem receiving), clit warming, implied chubby reader, female reader, MDNI

You awoke in the early hours of the morning, draped in a sea of blankets and fluffy pillows. You felt movement stir below you as you peeled your eyes open, feeling your lover nudging your plump thighs apart. Your legs fell open as you invited him to come closer, long wisps of silver hair tickling the soft insides of your thighs. A hum bubbled up your throat as you stretched your arms high above your head, fingers gently tangling in pillowy soft comfort as the tip of Calcharo’s nose rested against the soft skin of your stomach. The man below you took a deep breath, your scent curling in his lungs as his hands silently pawed at your hips, splayed fingers resting against the pudge of your stomach until generous amounts of skin spilled between the digits.

“What is it, Calcharo?” you asked, voice still raspy with sleep clinging to the edges.

A contented noise rumbled in Calcharo’s chest as his gaze flickered up to your face, golden eyes smouldering like burning coals under the morning sunlight that kissed his skin. It had been a long time since Calcharo felt something as soft as you under the warm touch of his hands, your skin almost searing to the touch as he pried your legs further apart for his hungry gaze to devour. A soft moan whistled through your teeth as you felt his hot breath ghosting over the creamy folds of your pussy, your arousal already dripping from your center as your greedy hole impatiently swallowed around nothing, drooling in anticipation. Goosebumps prickled your flesh despite the heat you could feel tickling the base of your spine as Calcharo leaned forward and captured the pretty, glistening pearl of your clit between the seam of his lips.

A violent shudder raced along the curve of your spine, your back arched and hips slanted forward as your body eagerly welcomed his touch. His name spilled from your lips like honey and warmed your parched throat, desire lingering in the back of your throat every time you swallowed the budding saliva on your tongue. Every hair on the nape of your neck stood on alert as you gazed down at him with lidded eyes, vision swirling and just as dazed as your mind. You expected him to move, to devour you whole with an unmatched fervour that would leave you writhing and clawing at the sheets begging for more. But you were pleasantly surprised when he didn’t move. His eyes were closed, the constant crease in his brow finally eased as he warmed the aching button of your clit in his mouth, the bundle of nerves resting against his tongue as he simply let your cloying taste melt in his mouth and dull his senses. Long strands of his hair curled around your skin, pooling across your soft belly and cascading down your supple thighs.

You took a deep breath, long eyelashes fluttering over your burning cheeks as you idly watched Calcharo with a hint of fascination shimmering in your eyes. You could hear your heart beat wavering in your ears and you felt your pussy quiver, pulsing with a burning desire as the heat in your stomach came to a simmer. You let Calcharo do as he pleased, resigning yourself to your pleasant fate as you relaxed completely beneath his touch. You slowly moved your hand down to his hair, brushing the long wisps out of his eyes and gently tucking the locks behind his ears. A noise of approval stirred in his throat and the vibrations felt heavenly against the swollen nub of your clit, the bud flushing to life as he buried his nose further into your soft curls of pubic hair. Your natural scent stuffed his nose and smothered him, threatening to choke him as he happily drowned himself between your supple thighs. The pillowy soft flesh squished against his face, the heat of your body warm against his ears as his hands gripped your hips, coaxing you to come closer. His throat bobbed occasionally as he swallowed the pooling saliva in his mouth, a pleasant shiver rattling the ridges of his spine as more of your slick gushed down his throat and quenched his thirst.

You fondly rubbed your hand against his head, gently ruffling his silky soft hair as you traced your thumb along the tacet mark etched into his forehead. You felt the deep puff of air that Calcharo let out, your toes curling into the soles of your feet as your pussy continued to throb dully from his undivided attention. You weren’t sure how much time passed as Calcharo selfishly indulged with warming your clit in his mouth. It was a pleasant feeling as you fought off the fog of sleep, only to be replaced by a swirling cloud of lust as it felt like your head was slowly being stuffed full of cotton. Your hand came to cradle the back of Calcharo’s head as your pulse wavered in your ears, the knot twisting inside your gut making you teeter on the edge, sharp claws stuck in you and not quite letting you go just yet.

“Calcharo” you softly begged. “Please…need you.”

Calcharo’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice. He let go of your slick clit with a loud and wet pop, causing you to stuff your bottom lip between your teeth and contain the desperate whimper that tried to crawl out of your throat. A thin strand of saliva webbed on his lips and connected him to the wet seam of your cunt. He clicked his tongue behind his teeth.

“Needy girl” he said.

One of his hands lazily crawled over your stomach, fingers walking along your torso until his hand cupped the soft mound of your tit. Your eyelashes fluttered wildly over your burning cheeks as your tit eagerly bounced into his hand, the perky tips of your nipples pebbling with arousal as he dipped his head between your sticky thighs once more. He sucked your clit back into the wet cavern of his mouth, tongue tracing the hood of the tightly packed bundle of nerves as he rolled it around his mouth. You squirmed from the sudden pressure coiling low in the pit of your stomach, tiny shocks of electricity making every single nerves in your body come roaring to life. They fluttered and stung, the hot knot twisting in your belly almost becoming unbearable. Your lips parted as your lungs pinched in your chest and you almost choked on a hiccup of pleasure. You mewled as Calcharo squeezed your soft breast, rolling the rosy bud of your nipple between skilled, calloused fingers as he pinched and tugged on the nerve as your back curved in a beautiful arch. You threw your head back as stars wavered in your vision, the pressure in your stomach erupting like fireworks as the gentle suckle of Calcharo’s lips attached to your clit sent you stumbling over the edge of the crumbling precipice.

You moaned his name, voice bouncing off the walls of your stuffy room as the coil shattered in your stomach, flooding your veins with white hot relief as you twisted between the sweat soaked sheets. You mewled with bliss as he lazily made out with your sloppy pussy, the gentle lashing of his tongue through your soused lips making tears of pleasure cling to the edges of your lashes. He kissed your slippery clit as your arousal continued to flow from your core, staining the bottom of his chin with translucent threads as he lapped up the sticky sweet nectar. The tips of your fingers felt numb as you threading your fingers through his hair, nails pressing intimately into his scalp as your body continued to thrum with pleasure even in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your hips chased the warm feeling of his mouth as he scooped up a mixture of your essence and his saliva, letting the concoction melt on his tongue before he swallowed thickly.

A noise of content stirred in your chest as you pet his hair, your overstimulated clit weakly kicking against the brush of his nose as he coaxed another sticky rush out of you that stole the breath from your lungs. You cooed his name softly, rubbing your foot along the strong, scarred muscles of his back as you gently poked him.

“Are you having fun down there?” you asked with a teasing lilt to your voice.

Calcharo’s gaze briefly flickered up to you. He squeezed your breast once in confirmation, massaging the soft skin as you purred like a contented cat beneath him. You were the best thing he had tasted in weeks. All the rations he had been surviving off tasted like ash in his mouth. He wasn’t one to complain about food, as long as it was edible. But he was not going to waste the opportunity of having you in his mouth, the pretty pearl of your clit glistening like morning dew as your succulent pussy drooled around his tongue.

#my writing #wuthering waves #wuwa #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #wuthering waves calcharo #wuthering waves calcharo x reader #calcharo x reader #wuwa smut #wuthering waves smut #x reader #fem!reader #nsft

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xdacted · 4 months

Text

twenty seconds or twenty years?

Pairing: Reader x Max Verstappen

Warnings: fluff, Regency! Au, period-typical sexism

Word Count: 4,359

Status: Completed

Max was never one for balls or parties.

The entirety of the social season felt bothersome, a chore. His mother, however, found his resistance to society a mere ‘bout’, a passing stinge, thinking he simply had yet to stumble across the right debutante. As such, she insisted upon his attendance at any and all gatherings, responding to invitations on his behalf.

He was expected at nearly every event until June.

Max was previously able to busy himself with the workings of business affairs, often called to distant corners of the nation just as the season neared, but his mother had enough of his excuses. When she stomped into his office, an invitation in hand, slamming it upon his desk, he was unable to escape.

“You will attend,” She seethed, “If you are to take the title from your father, you must find a wife.”

Attend he did, rocking along in a carriage to the first ball of the season. A rather large event, or so Victoria had said, hosted by the Russel family.

The estate grew closer, emerging from the darkness with twinkling lights. The strong structure sat surrounded by lush grass and proud trees, gently swaying in the evening wind. Max fought the growing knot of dread that formed in the pit of his stomach, twisting uncomfortably in his seat. He wished for nothing more than to pass the evening as a mere shadow, lost to the crowd, unnoticed.

The carriage slowed to a stop and Max was slow to descend, gingerly stepping down and straightening his tailcoat. He dismissed his driver with a nod, suppressing the urge to clammer back within the confines of the carriage. He was met with the grandeur of the Russel estate, staggering pillars wrapped in foliage, imposing walls that dripped into magnificent window frames, and adorned with intricate moldings.

It was a sight to beyond, but Max could hardly stand it.

The sounds of others pulling onto the gravel behind him prompted him to slip through a lingering horde of guests and the entrance. The large doors opened to a spacious foyer, marble floors drenched in the warm chandelier light.

Max expected nothing less from the Russels, an honorable family attached to an impeachable name and title. He attended school with the youngest son, George, and hoped to find him before he was lost to the throng of other partygoers. Finding his fellow bachelors was the only source of solace Max found at such events. Many were his past schoolmates or current business partners, but more so, they were his friends.

If he were to suffer, he saw no reason why he needed to do so alone.

As if hearing his plea, a tall figure entered his field of vision.

“Verstappen!” A voice behind him exclaimed, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

He turned, the tension easing in his shoulders, “Russel.”

George stared at him, an indiscernible look on his face, “I must admit, I was quite surprised to hear that you would be attending tonight. I thought you, of us all, a perpetual bachelor.”

The comment was made in jest, but Max could not deny the truth of his words. Though he did not hold as infamous a reputation as some, Max was regarded as Unmatchable, unrelenting in his desire to never marry or sire children.

As far as he was concerned, his father’s wicked bloodline would die with him.

Max could only shrug, scooping a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, “ I assure you, old friend, it was far from my idea.”

It was my mother's, the thought went unsaid, but Max was sure George knew well enough. His mother worried for him. She only wished to see him happy, Max wished she would drop the marriage matter entirely.

“I see,” George muttered, running a hand across his chin, a moment of silence passed between them.

Then, as chipper as ever, he exclaimed, “Well, here is to the rotten luck of some.”

With a snort, Max raised his glass before bringing it to his lips. Their banter was a long-established one, forged within the walls of preparatory academy and later enforced at university.

Max opened his mouth to inquire about their fellow bachelors, but was interrupted by two ladies making their way to him, fans held up to their faces. He was locked into a conversation before he could plan his escape. Though Max was grateful for George’s company, the sight of two of the ton’s most eligible bachelors detached from a group of their own welcomed the yapping hordes of women and mothers. They were soon drowning in a sea of fabrics and sparkling jewels, unable to do more than listen as accomplishments were rattled off and dance cards were shoved in their faces.

Max wished they would attach themselves to truly interested bachelors, of which there were plenty, but he suspected it was not so much them as it was their lineage. The other had always been incredibly popular, but Max, well, he knew of the rumors.

Max Verstappen, heir to the Duke of Hasselt, is a great beast - a monster, like his father. Though his stormy demeanor deterred many, the alluring promise of a dukedom attracted far more than his attitude could ward off.

Just as the voices began to melt into one, George nudged Max with his shoulder, “Thank you, ladies, but we must take our leave. We are required elsewhere.”

Their protests were almost immediate, pushing themselves closer to the bachelors, fluttering eyes and pouted lips directed towards them.

Truly, Max would have more sympathy if he would be given more space.

“Thank you,” He said, voice coming out far firmer than he meant, “But we should be going now.”

They were quick to silence, shuffling apart to clear a small opening, and Max was quicker to take it. He could hardly breathe amongst the clouds of perfume, nose burning with the assaulting scents, and was grateful for their escape.

“You looked as if you might die,” George muttered, guiding them to a small clearing by the dancefloor, “Were they truly so appalling?”

Max opened his mouth to answer, but no words found themselves tumbling out. It was not as if he were repulsed by the idea of a woman, or even of marriage, but the unhappiness he witnessed with his parents’ marriage was something he was unable to shake. His mother had been miserable, chained to a Verstappen man with no option but to provide him with the children he demanded.

Max could never, in good consciousness, reward that with the succession of the Verstappen line.

They arrived at the clearing before he could gather his thoughts. There, nursing glasses and wearing knowing smiles, stood Viscount Riccardo, son of Viscount Norris, and the Earl of Monte-Carlo.

A few of his oldest friends.

“Gentlemen!”

The men tipped their heads in respect but maintained their smirks.

“Never thought I would live to see the day,” Daniel began, “Max Verstappen at a party.”

“I rather think it was not his idea, was it?” Charles laughed, looking over at Lando who watched on with an ill-concealed smile.

“No,” Max sighed with a roll of his eyes, “It was not.”

Laughter erupted from the bachelors, George clapping another hand down upon Max’s shoulder. Their voices were hidden from passersby by the constant flow of music.

“Regardless,” Lando said, wiping a tear from his eye, “Perhaps a wife could be best.”

“How so?”

“Well,” He gestured to the room, clusters of women craning their necks to gaze at them, “If you were married, there would be no reason to attend these parties. You would have your solitude.”

“It is not solitude I desire,” Max muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He could hardly imagine a worse fate, but it was one he was willing to fall into.

“Then what do you desire, dear friend?” Daniel quipped, casting him a sideways glance.

Max could give no response, the words a thick ball in his throat, he could only push his nose into his glass. The topic was quickly dropped and conversation floated between them easily, even as they were picked off to catch a dance or two. Still, they were left to relative peace. Approaching a pair or lone bachelor was simple, it was encouraged. But, to find yourself in front of a group, was seen as distasteful, and desperate.

Regardless, the room only continued to fill, guests spilling into other parts of the estate, but with it, so did the knot in Max’s stomach. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, fingers nervously tapping upon a nearby table.

Parties presented the unknown, and Max had tried desperately to stay far from it - the thought frightened him more than he would ever admit aloud. Within the unknown, was love.

Love felt completely foreign, a thing of fiction or myth, a sentiment that filled the pages of novels and fairy tales. Max was told that his mother and father did love each other, once. To present, however, that affection had long been lost.

Max had more than one idea as to why.

His father was a petulant man, looking to command others through fear, not respect. He was well regarded in the eyes of His Majesty, but ill in the eyes of the Ton. He was cold and selfish and, despite his prayers, Max’s father. Though Max had made every attempt to differ himself, it seemed that he was his father’s son.

And he always would be.

“-stappen…Verstappen…Max!”

The sound of his name yanked him from his thoughts.

“...yes?”

Charles looked over at him, eyebrows furrowed with worry, “Is something the matter? I called your name, but…”

Max shook his head, waving a dismissive hand, “I am quite alright, I apologize. I was merely lost in the lights.”

Still, the look remained.

“Honestly, Charles,” He placed a hand on the other’s shoulder, “I am fine.”

Max turned away from him before he could utter anything else, bringing his hand back to his side. His eyes swept over the dance floor, hoping to calm his nerves in the senselessness of the evening. Both Lando and Daniel had taken to the floor, pulling themselves towards their partners. They stepped to the music, the quartet hidden away in the balcony. A few paces over, was George. Accompanying his mother on a round of the room, and receiving praise for a successful opening to the season no doubt.

The room was lively, couples turning in time and chatting coyly. Though it was not his preferred evening, he could see the appeal of such parties.

He felt rather foolish.

His eyes moved over the entrance, the trickle of people slowing, most finding themselves huddled around the dancefloor. Then, just as he was about to pull his gaze from the doors, something - or rather someone - caught his eye.

A woman, drenched in the candlelight, moving through the crowd of people. Her entrance was met with no fanfare or buzz, but he was entranced. If no one had taken notice of her yet, how foolish they must be.

She was the most gorgeous creature to exist.

A gentle smile on perfect lips, a tendril of hair curling over her forehead, the softest hint of rouge dusted across her cheeks - Max was caught. He was caught within the lace of her dress, within the glimmer of her jewelry, within the silk of her gloves. He was caught and never wished to be released from her grasp.

She was beautiful, extraordinarily so - blindingly so.

She was unlike any other woman he had ever seen, working her way through greetings, and rounding the room with her chaperone.

“Do you -” He forced himself to swallow, throat suddenly tight, “Do you know who that is?”

Charles nodded, relaying to Max her name and family, “I believe this is her first season. She was, according to my mother, a great success at the presentation to the queen.”

Max could see exactly why, a hand curled around the arm of her chaperone, dance card dangling from her wrist - each step was taken with purpose, with conviction. She was no simpering debutante, she was a lady commanding the attention of the room. Her strength was in her grace.

He watched as George and his mother approached her, she dropped into a low curtsy, rising again with her gentle smile. They were too far to make out the words they spoke, but Max yearned to know. He yearned to hear her voice, to be near her, to breathe her air.

“Has she caught your eye, old friend?”

For the first time, Max broke his start, turning to glare at Charles.

“Do not bother denying it,” He laughed, patting Max’s arm, “Ask her to dance.”

Perhaps, he dared, just for tonight.

He glanced back over to her, her eyes moving across the room before finding him. He was sure he forgot to breathe, her gaze piercing through him.

The thought crossed his mind. He could take her to dance, it would hardly mean a thing, but he was unsure if he would survive it. If he could withstand the heat of her gaze, the feeling of her hands within his own.

Max never thought himself a weak man.

He pulled himself away, “No,” he cleared his throat, adjusting his collar, “I - I - it would be best if I refrain.”

Perhaps, he was.

He hadn’t the slightest clue what was wrong with him, but he could not possibly give himself the chance to find out, most definitely not with her. Granted, he hadn’t attended as many parties as Charles or Daniel, but he was no neophyte. Such a reaction was ridiculous, he had only learned her name, and he could not dismantle his entire life’s purpose for a woman he had only just met.

Could he?

A look of curiosity crawled across Charles’ face once more, and this time Max feared he would be forced to hear the question that awaited him, but, as if by magic, George reappeared before them.

“Whatever is the matter with him?” He teased, sipping from his champagne glass.

“I think our dear friend is -”

“I am not.”

“Oh,” George smiled, an evil thing, “I think you are.”

Max felt his face flush, a dreadful heat racing down his spine. He reached over, snatching a lute of champagne from a passing tray, his mouth felt incredibly dry.

“I suggest you make haste, friend,” George muttered, turning to take in the dancefloor. It was filled with bodies, but Max was only concerned with one.

She stood alongside other ladies, chatting idly before a gentleman approached. Max recognized him as a second son with little to offer, the gentleman bowed deeply offering his hand to her. She seemed to draw the same conclusion, the smallest lapse of hesitation passing over her before placing her hand in his. He turned them onto the dancefloor.

Max was unable to answer, attention locked onto her as she danced, the music beginning behind him. Her movement was graceful and perfect, lines straight and steady.

“You may have found your bride yet,” Charles sighed, resting his hands upon his hips, “But you will lose her if you do not take action.”

“She is not mine to have,” Max said, placing his glass down harsher than necessary, “Perhaps it is time I take my leave.”

“I did not mean -”

“No,” George stepped forward, “You never come out to these parties, stay.”

“I really should -”

“Stay.”

He looked towards his friend, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t ever revealed his reasoning behind his continued bachelorhood, but he knew his friends recognized it as something far deeper. It was simply not in their nature to divulge such feelings.

Wordlessly, he plucked another glass from a tray and downed its contents. Quite boorish, but the slight burn helped soothe the pounding of his heart. It was far from his favorite alcohol, but it was all accepted for such parties. The stronger brandy was hidden away in the smoking lounges, and Max hardly entered those.

“Excellent!” George cheered.

Eventually, Lando and Daniel returned, with George departing to greet more guests.

Despite not being the heir, George made himself ever-useful. He was often a source of great knowledge or companionship - a dutiful host too.

“I cannot believe it…” Lando mumbled, fixing a crease in his coat, with a scowl.

“What?”

“Lord Ambrose,” He nearly sneered, “He insists on filling up dance cards before other gentlemen can, believing it to be a ‘claim’ upon the ladies.”

Charles shuddered, “He is a brute.”

“He is a cheat,” Lando pressed, “There are open bookings at the club with no sight of a check.”

“He is an Earl,” Daniel reminded, placing his glass between Charles and Max, “To be his wife is to have security.”

“But what of love?” Charles questioned indignantly, “What of proper courtship? Of a love match?”

“What of it?” Max’s words left him before he was able to keep them back.

“Well,” Charles turned to the dance floor, gesturing with his glass to her, “Would you court her? Or would you wish that she marry a man like Ambrose for security?” He nearly spat the word.

“It is much more complex than that,” Max said, finding her once more in the crowd.

She returned his gaze in an instant as if she could sense him, offering him a small smile. His heart began to pound once more.

“Women are forced to rely on the security of a name,” He tried to busy himself with his words, “A name that can only come from marriage, a name only a man can provide. They are not left with much choice.”

Charles seemed to think. He would never truly understand, as he had no sisters, but Max did. He remembers Victoria’s first season with burning clarity, how terribly nervous she had been. Her entire life and personality were boiled down to a singular match. And once she did marry, she was removed from their family, excised, and replanted.

Max hated it.

“Yes,” Charles whispered, his voice nearly lost to the swell of the music, “I - I suppose you are right…”

A bubble of pleasant silence grew over them, shrouded by the music as it drew to a close. Max watched as the gentleman returned her to the other ladies, offering another deep bow before stepping away. The ladies curled around her in an instant, their eyes alight with wonder. There was a soft flush to her cheeks, but she still looked breathtaking, fanning herself gently with a hand.

Something grew within his stomach, only it was not dread, it was something light.

“Oh, bother,” Lando hissed, eyes squirting just beyond the group of ladies.

“What is it?”

“There he is,” He jerked his head, something quite unlike him, “And dare I say he is -”

He was approaching her, coming upon the smallest break within the ladies’ bodies and greeting them with a hungry smile. Max’s legs were moving before he could will himself to stay put. Lord Ambrose was looking around the ladies, leaning far closer to them than necessary.

Max was cutting through the crowd, sidestepping other partygoers and ignoring the calls of his name. Anger flared within him, perhaps it was more disgust, at Amrbose’s blatant disregard for their honor.

Of all the bachelors, he had the most notorious of reputations. Countless mistresses and bastards littered his name, but the depth of his pockets made it a mere speck upon his title. She was well within her rights to select any man she pleased, and Max could never tell her any different, but he would not allow her honor to tarnish - any other gentlemen, just not him.

“I hope I am not interrupting,” Max interjected, inserting himself between her and Lord Ambrose, “But I was wished to ask if,” He turned to face her, heart pounding, “I may have your next dance?”

“You are interrupting, Verstappen, as I was about -”

Her eyes went aglow with something akin to relief and she placed her hand in his, tightening around him, “Of course, I would be honored.”

The murmurs from the surrounding ladies were immediate, covering their mouths with dazzling fans, but there was nothing to hide their amazement. The beast out to dance, how unlikely. He held his arm out for her, rounding the expanse of the dance floor as they awaited the music.

“I must apologize if - if I overstepped,” He sighed as they settled away from earshot, “I did not mean to make it seem as if you needed my saving.”

“Your apology is accepted,” She smiled up at him, placing a gloved hand upon his shoulder, and the other resting gently within his grasp, “But, regardless of how unnecessary it may have been, I am quite grateful.”

“Though I must admit, Mr. Verstappen,” The music queued up behind them, a gentle melody of strings, “I was under the impression you had no interest in dancing.”

Her words were a double-edged sword and Max could not deny.

“I, typically, do not,” He swallowed thickly, unable to withhold the truth with her before him, “But for you, I suspect there are many exceptions to be had yet.”

Her blush burned through her cheeks and to the tips of her ears, Max suppressed a chuckle. She was quick to recover, moving away from him with the first steps of the dance. It was a simple one, filled with a series of spins and skips. Despite his reluctance, he was still a member of high society. His education had included such social niceties, though he never thought he would put them to use.

“You are a far better dancer than the rumors allow you credit for.”

“Are you one to listen to rumors?”

“Only when they make such a man to be a beast,” She looked at him through her eyelashes, though it was not coy. There was nothing demure about her gaze, it was striking.

It was as if she wished to see into the very depths of his soul, to know all of his secrets and deepest desires.

And Max, the great fool he is, would gladly allow her.

He spun her in time with the music, guiding her by the waist, before pulling her near him once more. This close, he was able to see her more clearly. The shape of her eyes, the slope of her nose, the roundness of her face - her beauty knew no bounds. The very dress she wore, a mere cloth of elaborate stitching, seemed to be one with her body, made for her.

He supposes it was, but so many debutants attempted to hide their nervousness behind frilly clothing and blinding jewels. She, however, seemed to command the very fabric on her skin.

“Is there something the matter, My lord?”

Her voice shook him from his thoughts, but there was a knowing look in her eye.

“No, no, I apologize,” He stepped behind her, reaching for her hand, “And I am not Lord, not - not yet.”

“Many men would jump at the chance to claim a title that is not theirs,” She huffed, unable to hide the roll of her eyes.

“Well,” Max found both her hands, lifting them above their heads before tracing a hand down her spine to the small of her back, “I am not most men.”

She sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, and when he went to remove his hand, she leaned into it, “No, I suppose you are not.”

The air between them was electric, thick with unspoken desire. There was much to say, much to do, but Max only planned to keep her from Ambrose, not the entirety of the marriage mart.

He straightened once more, clearing his throat, “My - my mother was incredibly involved in our upbringing. I learned a myriad of things my fellow bachelors did not.”

She seemed to think for a moment, cocking her head to the side, “Like…sewing?”

“...Yes,” He sighed, spinning them around, “But she said it was more with my unruly desire to be the best at…well, everything.”

His words pulled a laugh from her lips. It was not gentle nor polite, her laughter was bright and loud, pulling the attention of a few other dancers, but Max could not bring himself to care. He adored it.

He adored her.

“I am quite the same,” She mused, “I cannot stand to lose.”

Max smiled before he could stop himself, “Neither can I.”

He walked himself around her, holding his right hand to her waist and the other to her opposite hand. They locked eyes, Max’s blood rushing to his ears. The shy smile she offered him from across the room melted into a genuine smile, larger than the former.

Far more beautiful.

The music ended with a soft chord, the floor breaking apart to clap. Max slowly moved from her, unable to fight the need any longer, his eyes still trained on hers. They clapped, but the moment the applause died down, he took her hand in his. The walk back to the group was nearly a crawl.

He did not wish to leave her side.

They arrived sooner than he wished, but the words came just as quickly.

“May -” He nearly forgot himself, “May I call upon you? Perhaps…tomorrow?”

“Yes,” She breathed, still holding onto his hand, “I would like that very much.”

He looked down at their hands and waited for her to pull back from him. She did with a blush moving across her cheeks, and Max was unable to do anything but return it.

He felt like a boy, with his heart thundering within his chest, but - they locked eyes once more, the infinite land of understanding between them, surrounding them - nothing could ever feel more right.

_____________________

A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3

also, yes, there are geographical inaccuracies, but let's all just have fun and ignore them kay??? and if you guys like this and want me to continue this with the rest of the drivers, let me know

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rippersz · 11 months

Text

(ᴄᴏᴄᴋ)ʏ

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(A Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader ~1.5K Word Oneshot) (NSFW: G!P; Face-Fucking; Lewd Language; Praise; Mommy Kink)

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Fuck, she felt good.

So good.

So heavenly. So right.

Even in the state she was in, moaning and huffing and growling with desire, head thrown back with her eyes bared to the ceiling. As though she was thanking the gods for your body and the pleasure you were willing to give her. No. Not give her. The pleasure you were willing to give up. That she was willing to take. Grasping your head in the way that she was, her knuckles turning red and bruised with the way she wedged them between your hair and the wall. Digging her fingers into your locks as though she’d make it to your skull if she pressed hard enough. Just keeping you there. Keeping you just right.

“Don’t move,” she panted earlier, her accent coming second to the raspy husk of her tone. So deep in pleasure she was- so lost to her own instincts.

Your poor lover. Your dear Larissa. She’d regret being so rough in a few hours, when you have trouble moving your neck and your throat is raw and scratchy - but you’ll comfort her as you always do and tell her that if she asked to do it again in a few days, you wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

As it were, she didn’t even ask. The situation simply fell into both sets of your hands. Your pretty darling, unable to take care of herself after she got ready for the banquet, nearly out the door when the mental image of you in lingerie had her stumbling back to the bed and nearly ripping off her panties with haste to take her ecstasy into her own hands. And then you, walking into the room to grab her and greet the guests, only to find her on the side of the bed, rutting against her slim pretty fingers. She looked beautiful in her sweet flush-cheeked glory, but her palm was slippery and clumsy and she hadn’t gotten herself off in so long that you just had to help. How cruel it would have been to leave her like that.

And so, as you teased, came the escalation.

And so, as you moaned around her length, the true admittance of desire.

And so, your head pressed against the wall, your legs trembling and spread out in front of you, and the weight of her cock pressed against the back of your throat. Bullying it to bruise as she pumped her hips with unmatched strength and then held you there, her plush thighs quivering when your lips and nose pressed to the light curls at the base of her cock. Sheathing herself inside you, using you with a pathetic amount of need. Doubled over at the waist and eyes rolling back with an overwhelming- burning- amount of pleasure once your body’s instincts kick in and your throat squeezes the sensitive curve of her shaft. Constricting around her to the point where it makes you both ache and it makes your chest stutter and she’s forced to wrench herself away while pushing your head back against her fingertips, even though there’s nowhere else for you to go. Huffing and puffing and breathing so deeply while she watches you gasp for breath and shiver.

Eyes meeting while the spit from the red of your lips and the pink tip of her cock only spiderwebs and dips - not even destroyed by gravity before she’s pushing herself forward again and pressing herself to your mouth; waiting with desperate wanting eyes as you recover and open yourself up for her again. And again. And again - and again - and again. Over and over and over. Until your vision is blurred with tears, and your face is warm and stiff from some long dried and some still falling, collecting by your chin to mix with the drool that spills from your lips. A steady stream of your devotion, given and taken willingly - with enthusiastic consent as she pushed you against the wall and lined you up with her cock and you nearly fell over the edge on the spot; happy to help your darling lover. Happy to have her want you. Happy to please her and listen to her whines as she feels herself get close.

“P-please- right there- yes. T-take it. Take it. Deeper. Yesss.” Arching her back and clenching the muscles in her legs, making you moan with appreciation at the feel of her strength beneath your hands. Palms running over her calves and her shins and her thighs, desperate to make her feel good- so good. And letting your own eyes close when she leans over and whimpers, trying to control her breathing long enough to praise you. To tell you-

“Good- ungh- girl - fuck, oh gods- so- so good to me- f-for me… for- Mo-Mommy!” Both of your bodies humming with pure delight when she gives herself her honorable title, inhaling on a sharp breath before the most erotic moan slips out of her perfectly painted mouth. Red lips opening and closing, white teeth pressing together, hissing and growling as you tug her closer and keep her cock in your throat; the weight of it pressed to your tongue, the feel of it against the roof of your mouth as you try to swallow. All of it heavenly and soft and something divine as she slows down and eases herself in as far as she can go- until your chin brushes the softness of her balls and the tip of your nose prods the ticklish curls near her groin.

“Through your nose, darling,” she speaks slowly, softly, her beautiful chest rising and falling with short breaths as you do as told and take a moment to fight through the instinctive urge to gag. Allowing time to slow as you keep your eyes on hers and watch her nod while a slow smile crawls across her lips- unspoken praise falling from her as she hears and sees the way you inhale, inhale, inhale, hold it, and then exhale, exhale, exhale - your throat working around her cock while you train yourself to take it.

Always.

Any day.

Anywhere.

Your lower back numb from the feeling of sitting on the floor for so long, your panties ruined beyond belief as you leak and twitch and throb in tandem with your lover’s body, your brain fuzzy and your throat sore and your ears kind of ringing - but finding none of it matters when she looks down at you with wide eyes and feels you moan around her length and is suddenly pressing you so close, so hard, that you can’t breathe at all.

Drooling and groaning and whimpering as she pumps herself into your warm mouth, hips moving like mad with unchecked desire as her breath catches in her throat.

“Oh baby- baby I’m gonn- gonna- fuck darl-ing. Momm-Mommy’s gonna- gonna cum- please- pleasepleaseplease- please let me-”

And you don’t even hesitate to nod, using your tongue to lap at the sides of her pretty cock as she moves, silently begging her to cum down your throat- hard and fast and pleasurable enough to see fucking stars- as tears build in your eyes. Blinking them away quickly, your nails digging into her thighs, your body in flames with ecstasy as she meets your gaze and her lips fall open and she whimpers your name in a small squeak while the thick of her cock twitches. Spasms. Folded over you, forehead nearly pressed to the wall, as she keeps you there- keeps you there- keeps you there-

-yes!

Yes!

Fuck Larissa! Fuck you feel so- so- good- god yes!

And a fulfilling, satisfying warmth spills down the back of your throat, fast and thick as she shudders and groans and feels the way you constrict around her when you swallow it all without pause. Like it’s second nature, taking it like your life’s fucking duty, such a good little cockslut for Larissa Weems as you close your eyes and ignore the tears and the drool and the burn and the numb and the desire and instead focus on the way she finally breathes with unparalleled relief. Knowing her sweet girl is there to take her cum whenever she wants- to feel her in her throat or around her fingers or her tongue or resting on her lips- always eager to be of service. To be a good girl and take your Mommy like the desperate little whore you are. Her chest filling with breath while the last of her climax runs through her body; her pretty cock twitching and throbbing with aftershocks until the last of her cum is lapped up and you’re pushing against her thighs - telling her with as much kindness as you can for her to step back so you don’t pass out. And when she does, shivering and taking her hands away from your head and gently leaning it against the wall to slide stray bits of hair back behind your ears, your own chest heaves with delight. Grateful for the air, savoring the last of her in your mouth- salty and human and all hers, and happy to remove your shaking hands from her thighs so you can reach up and wipe the spit from your mouth.

“You did so well for me darling,” you hear her hum a moment later. “You always do.”

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My fucking dream come true. Have a good day. Love you lots. - Rip x

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(Too tired for tags today sorry darlings)

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