ziggymars

[ziggymars]

i so desperately wanna be fucked while intoxicated because of how fucking pliant and helpless i’d be. just a glorified sex toy making pretty noises, both too weak and too dazed to even try and say no. forced to take a man’s cock for as long as he wants.

[ziggymars]

what real suffering looks like

[ziggymars]

I don’t care if that flops, the William Fichtner girlies need to be fed

[ziggymars]

The Birthday Party (18+)

pairing: fathers best friend!Alex Mahone x Reader

summary: Agent Alex Mahone is your fathers best friend, his right hand man. It’s your father’s birthday party, and Alex just can’t help himself when he sees you in that pretty dress.

warnings: significant age gap, daddy kink, dead dove DO NOT EAT, fingering, kind of voyeuristic.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I literally cannot get this man out of my head, he is tormenting me. I need him. I need him in ways that physics can’t even explain. I’m absolutely gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. I’m sorry to my parents. I’m sorry to my therapist. I’m sorry to William Fichtner. I need to be sedated. By the way, if anyone wants me to go back to the big font I can, I just am shallow and like how the teeny text looks. If you have any requests for this man please send them, I will probably write them. He has a chokehold on me that is astronomical….. Anyways… Forgive me and enjoy.

In a peaceful suburban neighborhood, the sun had just started to fall towards the horizon, throwing golden orange rays along the rooftops. Alex Mahone, one who had gone to the darkest corners of his mind for his work, drew comfort in the simplicity of this setting. His best friends home, where laughter bounced around the walls, a low rumbling of a birthday party gently flowed into the evenings air.

Alex Mahone. A man of many talents. Not all of which he revealed to the world. Alex Mahone… with the strong jaw and the piercing blue eyes. He had an air about him that commanded attention whether he wanted it or not.

He had arrived ahead of time to help organize the birthday party, his muscular arms assisting with the moving of tables, chairs. The guest of honor was his best friend, your father, a man who had known him in good times and bad.

But the real party, the one that really got Alex’s blood racing, was the secret that only the two of you share.

You watched him a little too long from the kitchen window, heart leaping at the sight. Months of stolen trysts had only served to fuel the flame between you. You carried the weight of the lie happily, it only served to spur on your desire. No matter how shameful it felt sleeping with your dad’s best friend.

The party was nearly in full swing when Alex finally saw you, cutting through throngs of people. A beer clutched in your hands and a shy smile clad on your lips. Your eyes met and for a moment, the entire world melted away. The laughter of party guests faded into background noise as he crouched down a bit, his taller frame towering as he breathed near your ear “Let’s get out of here for a little while, yeah?” The rough tone sent shivers down your spine. You knew exactly what he meant. You always did.

You only nodded, allowing him to lead you away from the crowd, into the house and then the bathroom. All the while, your eyes both scanning the room for any lingering glances that might spot the two of you leaving.

The sound of the door clicking closed beside you was almost deafening in the way it silenced the small space. Alex wasted no time, he hoisted you onto the sink, his hands trailing up your already parting thighs. He peppered soft, wet kisses at your neck, fresh goosebumps rising in the wake of his lips. You could feel pressure, wetness pooling betwixt your thighs, a familiar sign of just how much you wanted him. Alex made you wetter than any man you had ever been with, a fact that he knew. A fact that made pride swell in his chest every time he thought of it.

With an uncharacteristically gentle tug, Alex brought your sundress up to your waist, marveling at what you wore in anticipation of him being able to get a peek. At the sight of the wet spot forming on the soft fabric he sucked in a labored breath. His eyes darkening as he rubbed a circle against it with his thumb. “I’ve been thinking about this since this morning.” He breathed out, his words heating against your cheeks. “Have you, sweetheart? It looks like you have.”

With the way he said it, how it sounded coming from his mouth— your lips parted and your jaw fell slack as you nodded. Always so submissive when you found yourself in his grasp. “Yes, Daddy.”

That earned you a low, pointed “Good girl.” as he maneuvered his fingers into the fabric of your panties and pushed them to the side. Baring your wet, puffy folds to the cool air of the bathroom. You gasped at the sensation and curled your hands around his broad shoulders as the pads of his fingers began to run along your dripping slit.

You whimpered and clung onto him tighter, gripping onto his shirt as he started to explore, rubbing against you agonizingly slow. “That’s it.” Alex cooed, his eyes trained on your every breath and expression. “Let me take care of you.”

Alex’s fingers parted your slick folds, feeling the heat emanating from your aching core. A low, quiet groan tumbled around in his chest as he teased along your entrance, coating his digits in your arousal. Your body responded as it always did for him, eagerly. Legs falling apart wider and your hips undulating into his touch, silently begging him for “more, more, more.”

“Oh, fuck,” it was strangled and followed by your name, soft and hot against your ear. “You’re dripping for me. Soaked.” He circled your throbbing clit gently with the rough pad of his thumb, just enough pressure to make you gasp and buck against him. His other hand slid up your side to cup at your breast, kneading your soft flesh through the thin fabric of your dress. Alex’s eyes were glazed, hungry, as he watched your face intently, taking in every single hint of pleasure he could illicit from you. For his eyes only. Greedy, greedy man.

When he finally decided to stop teasing and push two fingers into you, you let out a strangled whine of his name which he was forced to swallow with his lips. His tongue dipping into your waiting mouth, groaning like he had been waiting for years to get a taste. His strokes were agonizingly slow at first. Teasing and calculated as he curled his fingers upwards just how he knows you like. But as you grew wetter and your hips bucked towards his hand, they gathered pace and urgency. The sensation sent shivers of delight through your every nerve ending.

You pulled away from each others lips and your eyes both fell down to his forearm, which you promptly grabbed for, and then to where his fingers worked inside of you. The sight heated up your cheeks and your head lolled back towards the mirror behind you, lips parted in a silent cry of “Alex!” Always a quiet litany of ‘Alex, Alex, Alex’. His favorite sound, besides the sounds your pussy made when it swallowed his fingers or his cock.

You gathered your shaky legs around his waist, attempting to pull him closer to you so you could bury your face into his shoulder, the heat of your pleasured mewls heating up his skin through his crisp, white button down. Your throat threatened to close as the pressure built. Your world narrowing to the feeling of his fingers as he expertly edged you closer to your breaking point. His lips brushed along your jawline, your cheek and then your ear as he murmured, “That’s it, baby. Take Daddy’s fingers.” His words made you sigh against his shirt, arousal dripping onto the counter now as his fingers repeatedly nudged against the special spot deep inside of you. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you? Want another?”

You frantically nodded against his shirt, a babbled string of “yes!” and “please!” and “Alex!” tumbling from your lips. He’s not cruel, he obliges. Pushing a third finger into you, relishing in the way your pussy pulsed and stretched around his working fingers. He curled them just right, stroking them in a way that made stars explode behind your eyes and your toes curl and uncurl over and over around nothing. Pleasured tears pooled in your eyes and you had to bite down on his shoulder to stop from crying out and alerting the entire party outside of your unholy activities.

His palm pressed against your slicked clit, rubbing tight circles as he fingered you, hard and fast. The obscene sounds of your wetness echoed around the bathroom. It was a wonder how he was able to keep himself so composed, even during all of this. Your breath was hitching in your throat and your back arched. Soft whimpers spilled all over his shirt, he could feel your tremblings. Feel the way you clenched around his invading digits.

“Oh, yeah.” He grunted, “You’re cumming.” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a guess. He knew. And by the time he had said it, it had already struck you. Your body was shaking but Alex just held you tight to him, muttering sweet praises into your ear as you felt the waves of pleasure rocking through you. “Good girl.” A gentle coo that made you want to beg for more. But you didn’t, you could beg later tonight when you sneak off to his apartment.

When the shaking finally subsided, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and gently wiped the tears from your face, his gaze never breaking yours. He then gave your pussy a soft slap before he slipped your panties down your legs and into the pocket of his jeans. Alex held out his hands for you and helped you off of the counter, ironing out the folds in your dress that he had created. You could hear commotion from outside, everyone gathering together for a family photo. He just smiled at you and said “Run along and go smile for the pictures, sweetheart.”

“Come with.” You protested with a whine, trying to tug him along by his shirt.

“I can’t.” He said, eyes drifting down to his cock that was clearly straining hard against his pants. “Just give me a couple minutes to do some long division.” It sounded like a jest, but it wasn't one. “I’ll find you, okay?”

Finally, “Okay, Daddy.” It came out as a huff, quick to add “But we’re not done.”

“Of course not.” Accompanied by a wink as he opened the door for you. You begrudgingly stepped out by yourself, your cheeks flushed, your knees weak and your mind reeling with nothing but Alex and his fingers.

[ziggymars]

Primal play Toto Wolff? 👉👈

This awakened something inside of me ….. give me a week boo 😏 🌲

[ziggymars]

just having fun thinking about gyno!roman on this fine evening

After thoroughly walking his fingers over the flesh of your breast, Roman squeezes your shoulder. “You can sit up, now,” he says, now finished with your breast examination. You sit up, breathing out a shaky breath. Your legs dangle over the edge of the table, bouncing your mismatched sock-covered feet against the metal. Roman rounds the table, then pulls up a stool and his instrument stand, covered in paper and sterile utensils. “Say ahh.” “What?” “Your legs, genius. Open them,” he says, but doesn’t give you time to actually do so. Roman lifts one of your legs and puts your foot in the stirrup, then does the same to your other leg. His hands are strong on your body, fingertips digging into your flesh. "I suppose you could open your mouth, too. Vagina, mouth. No real difference there." His words, how he moves your body like a puppet. It feels like a blatant display of dominance, a display of who has the upper hand here. It makes you sick and makes you hot. Roman sits on the black stool and spreads his legs wide, thick bulge evident in his black slacks. There’s a box of blue nitrile gloves on his instrument stand, and you wince at the sharp snapping sounds as he puts them on, wiggling his fingers as he tugs the material down his wrist. “Ready?” “No.” “Oh, fuck off. You’ll do fine,” he tells you. “You always do. Scoot down.” You scoot a little down the table, looking up at the ceiling. Roman scoffs and rolls his eyes before standing up, sliding both hands under your paper gown before lifting you and situating your bare ass right at the edge of the examining table. “Yeahhh, there she is. Oh, that's perfect. You shaved for me.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment and Roman’s subsequent snickering. Before warning you of what’s to come, Roman dives right in, touching, pressing against the soft folds of your labia with gloved fingers. “Just relax,” he whispers. “It’s just me. Doctor fuckin’ Roy, no big deal. Relax.” You interlace your fingers, resting your hands on your tummy as Roman feels around, experimentally rubbing your clit so he can watch your reaction. The twitching in your thighs, your breath hitching in your throat. “Good, good girl.” Roman reaches for the Surgilube and the speculum, then squirts a generous amount of the jelly on the tool. He turns it to the side before inserting it all the way inside you, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. “You need to relax,” he reminds you with a voice firmer than before, before widening the instrument. With those loud clicking sounds comes an increase in pressure, you’re tightening around the speculum. “You’ve got a niiiice fuckin' cervix, you know that?”

[ziggymars]

Tear You Apart

Roman hatefucks you (2.1k words).

Tags - smut, rough/violent sex, mean!roman, and perhaps dark!roman too if you squint (I’m serious. Don’t underestimate him) lack of proper foreplay (intentional), unprotected piv, spanking, biting, choking, hitting, degradation, bruises, dacryphilia, hatefuck, masturbation, fingering, creampie, come play, fearplay, threats of violence, typical Roman sexism, Roman spits in your mouth, orgasm denial, Roman denies you of some basic physiological needs in maslow’s hierarchy, a singular atom of aftercare, one (1) Depeche Mode reference. Probably forgot some things but if you’re here then you know what you want, and I know what you want, and we both know you’re gonna read anyway.

A/N - received a message from god and i did what had to be done. @cum-a-calla said “k but imagine Roman talking about how much he hates you while being violently railed. swoon” so here’s this. Straight fucking, beginning to end. I love you @cum-a-calla I think you’re just the fucking best 😻🥰 and @beefrobeefcal do your eyes ever hurt from how much I abuse them? Thank you for lending them to me again and again 💜🥩🐛

Roman’s swaying left and right in his swivel chair, nursing a glass of whiskey when you open his bedroom door. “You’re late,” he says, slurring his words ever so slightly. His eyes are bloodshot, hair mussed, tie loosened and his white shirt unbuttoned. Roman takes his silver watch off and sets it down on the end table next to him. 

You shift your weight from one foot to the other. “I know.”

“You texted 10:30,” Roman reminds you. “And it’s midnight.” 

“I know,” you repeat. “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” 

“Better fuckin’ not. C’mon, chop chop. You know what you’re here for.” 

You do know; the same thing you’re always here for. Roman downs the rest of his drink, then pours another, and this time offers it to you. You decline politely, a quiet and demure no, thank you with a gentle shake of your head as you take off your shirt. Roman shrugs, drinks that one too. He feels lightheaded. 

You shuck off your pants, and Roman takes care to help you with your bra, fingers tracing over the indents it’s left in your skin. “All of it,” he says, smacking your ass, right over that large, rashy bruise he left last time. It was a week ago, maybe. Is that correct? Is that the last time you did this? Roman can never keep track. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re just as hungry for Roman’s violence as he is to inflict it upon you. 

You shimmy the cotton underwear down your hips and your legs, now fully bare before Roman. Exposed. Roman sidles up behind you, his veiny hands on your waist. He urges you closer to the mirror and turns you around slowly, admiring the marks he made on you last time. Bite marks, lots of bites, and god, how he loves sinking his teeth into your skin. There’s bruises darkening your skin, though not all are visible. Some you feel instead of see. There’s the odd scratch, maybe the fault of his unclipped nails or perhaps the blunt metal edge of his watch he doesn’t always remember to take off. Roman watches you in the mirror, the eye contact intimidating. He looks like he wants to eat you alive.

Roman presses his fingertips against a bruise on your hip, causing you to wince. It’s an odd shape, odd location too. “I like this one,” Roman says. “Pretty.” It’s a compliment, almost. Almost. 

It begins here. Roman separates your hands that are held together, nervously fidgeting with yourself. He takes your forearm and twists it behind your back, pushes it up, up, even higher yet. You can see in the mirror how he smiles, his eyes darkening when you start to wince in pain. “You’re hurting me,” you whine. “You’re - ah, my arm–”

“I know it hurts you,” Roman taunts. “I could break it just like this. Fuckin’ snap it. I think about it sometimes.”

His words make you sick. Make you breathe funny, make you feel all icky inside. He fucking loves it, how your breath hitches in your throat, and how he can feel it happen under his palm. And when you’re afraid like that, you squeeze around him harder, walls pulsing, clenching…

Roman forces you down onto the bed, your face buried in his pillows. You lie on your stomach and he parts your thighs with his knee, still holding you in place, now with both of your arms bent into place. Roman holds them in one hand and kneels at your side, and with his free hand he rubs over the swell of your ass. He parts your cheeks, admires your tight asshole and your snatch. He traces those pretty folds of yours and rubs your clit, listening to those quiet gasps you swallow. He wonders when you’ll - and yup, there it is. You’re writhing on the bed, grinding your hips into his palm. Roman smiles at this. The rules, you’re breaking the rules. “I’m not gonna make you come,” he reminds you. 

“I know,” you mumble.

“I’m only getting you wet.”

“I know.” 

“Then what do you think you’re doing?”

Silence. Roman removes his fingers from your cunt and spanks you hard - once, twice, three times total. You wail in pain, humming rhythmically in an attempt to soothe yourself of the ache, that awful sting. Roman traces the outline of his puffy handprint on your ass. “You just don’t get it, do you? It doesn’t matter how many times we do this little dance. You never learn who calls the shots. Un-fucking-believable,” he huffs. “I don’t give a shit if it hurts - you can forget about getting wet now. Spread your legs.”

Roman situates himself behind you as you spread your legs, though it’s not enough. Roman holds the backs of your knees in his hands and spreads you wider, the cool air a jarring sensation against your hot, pulsing sex. He unbuckles his belt and tosses it on the floor where it lands with a loud thump. He undoes his pants next, the zzzzip noise slow and loud as the metallic teeth separate one by one. Roman pulls his already-hard cock out and before entering you, brings his palm to your mouth. “Don’t say I don’t do anything for you. Spit.” 

You lift your head and spit into his palm, and he strokes his cock with it before pressing his blunt head against your entrance. You squeeze your eyes shut and suck in a breath, anticipating what’s to come. 

Roman thrusts violently into you, the stretch and the burn causing you to squeal. You scramble for hold on the sheets, the pillows - anything to ground yourself as you take the pain he gives to you. Roman grabs a fistfull of your hair and yanks, “C’mon,” he goads. “You can do better than that.”

Roman pulls out of you all the way and plunges right back into you, harder than before. You bite into a comforter to muffle a sob, the first tears squeezing from your eyes. It hurts, it all really fucking hurts, and each time is worse than the last. 

He wriggles his forearm under your tummy and hikes your hips up, Roman on his knees behind you. “Fuck yourself on it,” he says. “Go on and fuck my cock. Show me that you’re good at one thing, one simple thing.” 

Following his command, you rock yourself forward, then back again. It’s slow, as that’s all you can stomach right now. The pain hasn’t yet dissipated and each movement, each twitch of Roman’s cock feels like a knife against your insides. The pain is fiery, too intense to focus on anything but. 

“Are you even trying?”

“Yes,” you whimper, till rocking, inch by little inch. “I’m trying.”

Too slow. You’re too fucking slow, and too fucking tedious. Roman rolls his eyes, “You’re fucking pathetic,” he spits, words like poison. He takes your hips in his hands and pulls you hard against his cock, his hips slamming against your ass as he sets a brutal pace. “I have to do everything for you. What can you do, huh? Tell me, say ‘nothing, Roman’.”

“Nothing,” you repeat, voice thick with your tears. “Nothing, Roman.”

“That’s right. Don’t you ever forget it, you goddamn useless fucking cunt.” Roman’s nails are digging, cutting into your skin as he fucks you like an animal. “You’re good for nothing but getting fucked. Fucking whore, you’re fucking nothing without me. Nothing.”

You nod, sobbing as he pounds into you. You’re completely powerless, just how he wants you. Roman bares his teeth as he leans over you to wrap his hand around the column of your neck, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks up into you. Roman squeezes your throat, bruising the soft flesh as he bites into your shoulder hard enough so that he draws blood. The coppery taste, the crimson dotting your skin. He licks it away. 

He’s choking you. He’s choking you and you’re wheezing, coughing and sputtering as you try desperately to wriggle your fingers under his palm. You succeed in this, or perhaps Roman lets you have a small win - either way, you free yourself from him and crawl forward on the bed, reaching for Roman’s glass of water on the nightstand. With shaky hands, you bring the glass to your lips and take little sips, all you can handle and you’re still spilling onto yourself. Roman glares at you as he gets off and rounds the bed, then takes the glass away from you. “Did I say you could have that?”

“I was ch-”

Roman lays a brutal slap against your cheek, less of a smack and more of a beating. His palm is so sharp it makes you cry harder. Fuck, he loves when you do that. 

“Shut the fuck up. You choke if I want you to choke,” he bites. “Don’t pull that shit again. God, I fucking hate you.”

Roman forces you onto your back and spreads your legs again. He enters you just as harshly as he did before, finding that same, punishing, unrelenting pace as he fucks you deep, the head of his cock kissing against your cervix with every one of his thrusts. 

You choke on your sobs, hyperventilating as tears stream down your cheeks. You feel lightheaded, numb everywhere but where pleasure and pain flows between your hips. Breathe, you need to breathe. 

“Stupid fucking slut. I fucking h- oh, fuck. Shit. I fucking hate you. Jesus Christ, I really fucking hate you, you know that?” 

You cry and cry, burying your head into Roman’s pillows to hide your face. Roman pulls the pillows away from you and throws them onto the floor, then grabs your face, digging his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks as he squeezes your jaw. “Hey. You fucking look at me when I use you. Right here. You focus right here.” 

Your face is puffy with tears, eyes red and tear-stained, lashes all wet. Roman wears a crooked smirk as he digs his fingers harder into your cheeks so that your mouth opens in a little O shape, then spits into your mouth. “Cunt. I fucking hate you, oh, I fucking hate you.” 

Roman pounds into you, hovering over your body to cage you in. You’re gonna feel all of him, and nothing else. He pins your wrists together above your head, his face panting into the skin of your neck as he fucks you so brutally. “Oh my god. Oh, fuck. Fuck,” he moans.

If you focus hard, you can feel his pubic bone against your clit. You follow that sensation, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, chasing that sweet friction. You could come. You could. 

“Nuh-uh. Nice fucking try,” Roman half-laughs. “You’re not subtle.” 

Standing before you, Roman grabs you by the ankles and tugs you closer to himself. He puts your legs on his shoulders and ruts into you relentlessly, now chasing his orgasm. He could’ve gone longer than this, but he’s not gonna let you come on his cock. 

Roman feels that fiery pleasure build quickly in his belly, balls tightening, indicating that release is just moments away. “Ohhhh, fuck,” Roman moans gutturally, hanging his head back as he milks himself entirely, spurting rope after rope of his hot come.

You feel cheated. You feel used. You’re a crying mess when Roman pulls out of you, his spend spilling onto his bed. “R-Roman,” you whimper, violent sobs wracking through your body. Roman gathers his spend with his fingers and paints it over your cunt, lips all swollen and sore with the ferocity of his fucking. “I need you, Roman.”

Roman leans over you, “Go fuck yourself,” he whispers in your ear. “I mean it. Fuck yourself on your fingers.”

You’re completely exhausted. Fucked out. But still, you reach for your center and gather Roman’s come on your fingertips and circle your clit, willing your release along. Writhing on the bed, chasing a pleasure only Roman can give to you. And your poor pussy is so sore, beaten and bruised by Roman. He watches you intently and with dark, loveless eyes, that vein bulging in the center of his forehead. He covers your mouth with his hand and brings the other to your cunt, pushing two fingers inside, gentler than before. He curls those fingers repeatedly as you rub circles around your clit and oh, there it is. You’re pulsing around his fingers, muffled moans signaling your orgasm. Roman works you through it and far past its end, only stopping when you’re a twitching shuddering wreck, a bug flailing on its back. Pathetic.

Roman pulls his fingers from you and shoves them past your lips, “Suck,” he murmurs, then presses his forehead against yours. You lick his fingers, tasting your own release mixed with Roman’s. “God, you’re so fucked up,” he murmurs in a saccharine tone, and the sympathy in his voice sounds almost genuine. “So fucked up. Why do you let me do this to you, huh?”

-

Roman tags ❤️

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson

@moth-maam56 @kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink

@romanarose @kappasbbgirl @magpiepills

@highinmiamiii @verstappensrealwife

@thesummerpetrichor @lilipads @luiscarrutherss @pastelpinkflowerlife @baronessvonglitter

@myromeow @ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh @/always-andromeda

[ziggymars]

Hello! Could I request a Sainz x reader! fic where it’s the end of the F1 season and Carlos takes the reader on a much needed vacation and they go crazy after Carlos had put up a sex ban cause ge wanted to be fully concentrated on the races. Pls add cockwarming and riding his thighs (have you seen them, they’re MASSIVE)

okay this is coming next my friends

[ziggymars]

Heyyyyy! Loved your Lec fics. Would you be willing to do some Carlos Sainz fics?

yes I’d be very inclined to do so, if sent some scenario ideas about Mr. Sainz❤️

[ziggymars]

Where have you been all my life? Write more Leclerc pleaseeeee

mars 👽

just kidding

sure, suuuuure! inbox is open for any Charles requests 💌 perhaps Verstappen as well 🙊

[ziggymars]

Hey Ziggy <3 if you are compfortable with it could you maybe implement in a Timmy fic that he makes the reader squirt for the first time and finds it super hot and is very proud about that? :)

hello my love I know I'm like a year late answering this, I just posted something like this but about Charles Leclerc 😌❤️

[ziggymars]

mirror, mirror (18+) - cl.16

Charles Leclerc x Reader

winner from this poll

warning(s): sentences that would have gotten me lobotomized in the 1900s, terribly translated Italian AND French, established relationship, fingering, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected pnv, cream pie, horn dog charles and awful writing probably, please don’t hate me im intimidated by the f1 fandom even though i am in it ..... also i didn't proofread the whole thing please forgive any errors, they will probably be fixed soon. minors pls DNI.

word count: 3.7k+

A/N: mama an inchident behind you ! I know I was going to post this like a month ago, but I'm going through it sis AND my computer ate the original so I had to rewrite this oop. i'm very sorry to everyone who was expecting timo, the mexico city gp had me feral so you get this monstrosity. don’t hesitate to send any dirty thoughts you have about charles, perhaps inspiration will strike and i will give you the gift of sinful prose. i'm nervous to post this but i'm going to anyways xoxo zigs

The first thing you usually hear that is a clear indication that Charles is home, is the purr of his engine pulling into the driveway. A sound that had quickly become one of your favorites. A cacophony that drove your neighbors completely mad, music to your ears. Next came the jingling of his keys, echoing in the foyer. Which was very clear to you from where you stood. Today you were faced in front of a ginormous mirror. It had just gotten delivered but the installation guys wouldn't be able to make it until next week; so now it was placed, halfhazardly, against the wall in the living room. Definitely not where it was supposed to go. It looked kind of nice there regardless, reflecting the warm glow of lights in your shared home.

You glanced over at the clock, a familiar anticipation bubbling inside of you. He had mentioned an interview with Max earlier, and you could only imagine how it had gone. The door creaked open, and you turned your head -- a warm smile spread across your face at the sight of him. There he was, looking so effortlessly handsome as he always does. "Honey, I'm home!" He chirped, once again, as he always did. Charles strode to where you stood, and he stopped in his tracks for a moment as his eyes fell on the mirror. "Wow, um.... that's huge," he said with a raised brow, astonishment clear on his features. He continued walking towards it and ran a finger along the ornate frame, your eyes following it the entire time "I didn't expect it to be this big."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his observations, you had thought the same thing when it came. "Neither did I." You said as you followed closer to him to wrap an arm around his side, head on his shoulder. "What do you think?" You asked, "I think it will look really nice in the stairway. Installation guys can't make it until next week though.”

Charles mirrored you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He tilted his head to the side as he studied his reflection and then he began to study yours. "I think it will look really amazing once it's put up. For now it takes up a lot of space, no? I guess that's alright." He said, the last part mostly to himself.

For a moment, you both stood there, caught in the sight of your reflection. There was something intimate about it, even if both of you were fully clothed. It captured your visage but also the energy in the room; remnants of shared memories and love. An idea came to him that made all of his cares about its current placement fly out the window.

"Do you want to try it out?" Charles asked suddenly, catching you off guard. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, don't you want to see how we look together?"

A warm flush spread across your cheeks and you ripped your eyes from his reflection to look at him for real as you asked "Together?"

"Of course. You know what I mean." He laughed and turned his gaze to look at you too, the intensity making your heart skip just a beat. "Please. Let me play with you, il mio cuore."

Your shoulders brushed as you turned to face him, your mouth opening to protest. You had two Cornish hen's in the oven that you desperately did not want to burn. It wouldn't have been the first time you nearly started a fire because of Charles' obsession with pleasing you. It was a protest that he didn't even let escape your mind before he was placing a finger over your lips to silence you. "Just turn it off, if you're worried about dinner." He knew without you even having to say it, he could smell the aroma from the kitchen. And while it did smell really, really good -- the pull to explore this mirror’s capabilities was too strong for him. Too strong to miss this opportunity.

You gave a playful roll of your eyes before you kissed the finger pressed to your lips, a sigh of “Fine.” slipping through the space around it.

Too excited to wait even a moment longer, he gives your ass a light spank, saying "Hurry along." The commanding tone sending a shiver down your spine and a skip in your step as you did as he told; scampering to the kitchen to turn the oven off. It took you no time and even less to get back to him.

"Good girl." He purred and then pulled you closer to him by the shirt you were wearing, his shirt, maneuvering your body until you were both facing the mirror. Charles towered over you, his torso brushing against your shoulder blades. He ran one hand across your collarbone and then down your clothed stomach. "This will be fun, I promise."

"I don't doubt that," you breathed, goosebumps starting to rise in the wake of his fingertips as your eyes closed, "it's just a bit awkward, watching myself."

"No.." Charles cooed, his fingers gliding back to where they came from, tracing along the swell of your breast, the feeling of it causing him to take a sharp inhale. "You're beautiful, please, look at you."

When they found their way to your nipples, which were already pert under his touch, your eyes finally fluttered open. A soft, almost indiscernible grunt leaving your already parted lips. "You're so excited already, and I've barely touched you." He said, a cocky grin slipping to his lips as he pinched at one of them absentmindedly. You let out a quiet yelp and your back can't help but arch into the touch, "More, please." coming from your lips.

Nearly every time he heard you say that, he would oblige. Right now was one of those times. Charles slid his hand down, slipping it under your shirt; fingertips gliding across your flesh, "So soft." He remarked, his voice becoming more thick the closer his hand got to cupping around your breast. Where he kneaded, his fingers melding to your skin deliciously. You gave off another soft grunt, your thighs wriggling in an attempt to rub them together. "Oh, feeling needy today?"

You were tempted to roll your eyes but decided against it, not wanting to thwart any chances of getting what you now desperately wanted. He took notice of your self restraint so he rewarded you by snaking his hand down and into the hem of your spandex shorts, the ones he loved so much. Charles was met immediately with the feel of your already slick folds. "No underwear, mon lapinou?" (my bunny).

All you could do was nod your head and look at his reflection with a pleading look as the pad of his middle finger circled in the slick you produced. "Use your words." His voice was a gentle coo urging you on.

"No underwear." You confirmed with a shaky voice "Please, Charles, you're driving me crazy."

"You drive me crazy all the time," he said "perhaps this is payback." The same smirk glued to his lips from before as he moved his finger up and down gently against your clit. "Fine," he huffed "I'll give you what you want though." It was partly for you, but also selfish reasons. He was eager to watch the show you were about to provide for no one but him; the thought of it intoxicating him relentlessly.

Without another word, he's tugging your shorts down and allowing you to step out of them before he dramatically, and honestly, a bit comically threw them to the side. Not giving a single care to where they went, tunnel visioned on nothing but making full use of the mirror.

Next, Charles started to pull the leather arm chair that was skewed beside the couch to sit in front of the mirror; patting his legs with a look to you. “Take off your shirt and come sit on my lap.”

Finally finding courage and clarity through swirling vestiges of lust, you purred a simple "Yes, papà."

Something you didn't call him often. Something you saved in your back pocket for when you really wanted to rile him up. A special treat, for a very special man.

One "Oh, Gesù Cristo." (Jesus Christ) and you knew it had worked. Perfect.

Charles' pupils blow wide and stuck to your hands that were now removing the last remaining piece of clothing. Your eyes, however, were settled on the wet patch that had formed on his shirt, almost the very instant that you had called him the name he loved so much. "Do you like what you see, papà?" You asked, metaphorically poking the sleeping bear.

"Love what I see," he said, beckoning you closer "but I'd love to see what you look like with my fingers inside you a little bit more, come here. Please." Near the end of the sentence, his voice was almost a whine. Giving away just how much he wanted to feel your body against his. You weren't cruel, and to be fair you wanted this just as bad as he did. So you were doing as you were told for the second time this evening. You clambered to settle in his lap and he was quick to adjust your legs. Spreading them impossibly wide with rough hands, your breath already beginning to bait at the implication alone.

Then Charles did something that left your cheeks burning; he spread apart your folds. His mouth fell open as he gazed at the sight in the mirror, admiring your beauty. “Look at that," he swooned, "so pretty. So fucking gorgeous.”

Feeling sheepish from being so exposed, you tried to turn your head and bury it inside the crook of his neck but there was absolutely no way he was going to let that happen. With his other hand he grabbed your chin, not hard enough to actually hurt you but hard enough to make you look; forcing your gaze to where his fingers held open his prize. "See? What did papà say?" He said, his tone scolding yet still warm "So pretty."

Your hips wriggled in his lap, a futile attempt to grind back against the now achingly hard length that was flush against his stomach. Trying to urge him on, to do anything else besides continue to wordlessly look at you like he was going to swallow you whole.

"I'm speaking to you, mon lapinou." Charles tsked, his index finger now circling around your entrance, "don't be rude."

Realizing you didn't have another option, you couldn’t be shy now that you had opened this can of worms with one simple name, you managed to parrot him “So pretty.” Followed by a choked and begging “Please, touch me.”

“Good girl.” He cooed, simple and sweet before he was plunging one finger into your depths; a soft, languid moan falling from your lips. If your vision had been any more clouded, you might have missed the way his eyes nearly rolled back at the sound alone.

Charles’ grip tightened on your chin, keeping your focus steady to where he was now slowly, but surely drawing his finger out, and then back in at an excruciatingly slow pace. Enough to give you what you want but not getting ahead of himself just yet. His eyes dipped closed for only a moment as he leaned forward to pepper gentle kisses to your shoulder. When his eyes open he had to still all of his movements for a moment, genuinely fearing he might cum in his pants at the very sight of you perched in his lap. Your lips parted, legs spread, arousal dripping down his wrist. It was enough to make him weak.

You let out needy whines, hips bucking against his hand, urging him silently. Charles chuckled and obliged, slowly pumping a second digit into your tight heat. “That’s it, ma belle. Let me make you feel good.” He purred, his accent becoming more evident the more he lost himself in the sight. He watched, ever intently, entranced by the way you fell apart under his touch — filthy, breathless moans tumbling from your lips like a leaky faucet.

Charles’ deft fingers continued their filthy dance, pumping in and out of your dripping core, his thumb coming to circle your throbbing clit. Your breaths come in short and labored gasps, chest heaving as you started to lean back against him, pleasure washing over your body. Your hips began to stutter and he made the executive decision to remove his other hand from your chin so he could use it to press them back down against him — spreading your thighs even further. “Oh fuck!” You gasped, a choked moan as he was able to pump his fingers even deeper. Your eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy, head falling back to his shoulder. He tilted his own to capture your lips in a searing kiss, tongue immediately dipping into your warm mouth to taste your sweetness.

Charles fingers continued to work, curling them just right. He stroked against the sensitive spot inside of you that made you see stars. A loud and wanton mewl is ripped through your throat, forcing you to pull away from the kiss so you could throw your head back against his shoulder. Obscene wet sounds filled the room as he began to finger-fuck you even harder, reveling in the way your smooth walls fluttered around him. Finally, you manage to pick your head up from his shoulder so you can look into the mirror. Blood rushes down between your thighs as the scene before you comes to view.

A third finger came to play and you were a goner. He reveled in the way your smooth, velvety walls pulsed around him. You became a whimpering mess, your mouth falling open as he met your gaze in the mirror. His eyes were dark and you could see he was holding himself back from just shoving you onto the floor and fucking you into oblivion. It made your eyes roll back, a slow moan of “Charles!” accompanying it.

“You’re close, I can tell.” He says, his voice course but somehow also boastful; knowing he’s the one who knows how to make you come undone like this, writhing in his lap like a first rate whore. One of the ways he can tell is now, how your moans grow even louder, higher pitched. Your hips started to buck against his hand frantically as you babbled “Yes, yes, yes!” over and over in his ear.

“That’s it, amore.” Charles encouraged you, voice husky in your ear. He gritted his teeth, “Cum all over my fingers, pretty girl. Come on, that’s it.”

It was enough for you, it was always enough for you. To hear him commanding you to cum. Like a sleeper agent only activated by a carefully constructed phrase. So with a loud and keening cry, your entire body seized. Thighs clamping around Charles’ wrist, a gush of liquid splashing against his hand and soaking his fingers. It dripped down the leather chair and onto the floor. His eyes widened in shock — you had never done that before. Charles could practically feel his chest swell with pride, satisfied smirk etched on his face. The puddle on the floor in front of you serving as a physical reminder to him of just how well he had done.

Somehow he managed to keep himself composed, grunting as he continued to pump his fingers, coaxing every wave of your orgasm. “Jesus, fuck! Baby!” He growled in appreciation, never ceasing his fingers movements until you were collapsing back, breathlessly, against his chest.

Slowly, he withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips. You could only watch, mesmerized, when he sucked them clean. A deep moan rose from his throat that reverberated around his fingers. “Delicious,” he said, pulling them from his mouth with a satisfied hum. Charles can barely even hold himself back now, his cock straining against fabric as he stared at the ethereally erotic display before him. You panted, legs shaking from the orgasm he had given you. "Enough of that, mon cherie. I need to be inside of you."

He doesn't give you any time to respond before he is standing, and in one swift motion bending you over the side of the chair. Your face is pressed into the cool leather, your gaze stuck on the reflection of the two of you in the mirror. You didn't mind it being stuck there now, the aftershocks of how good he had made you feel helped your guard come down. And now all you could do was stare at him in the mirror, Charles missed it because he was quick to push both his pants and boxers down, settling himself behind you. You arched your back further and wiggled your hips, a giggle escaping as you presented your glistening pussy for him. He let out a low groan, hands roaming over your ass and up your back. "Fuuuck, look at that." Charles said, taking a moment to admire the view, slowly stroking himself a few times.

Positioning himself behind you, finally, he rubs the tip of his cock across your slick folds, teasing at your entrance. And then without warning, he sheathes himself fully inside of you with one powerful thrust. A long and low moan escapes both of your lips, a sweet symphony of soprano and tenor. Your hands grip onto the leather arm of the chair, trying to ground yourself into reality.

But it's hard. Really hard. Especially when he starts to set a steady rhythm, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. Setting a primal pace that leaves the both of you gasping in pleasure. His pelvis slaps forward against your ass with each and every powerful thrust -- each one driving you forward just a little bit more. Your eyes are half-lidded now, heavy with lust. But you will them to stay open. You can see everything in the mirror. The ecstacy etched in your furrowed brows, the bounce of your ass with every jolt of his hips, and his muscles flexing subtly as he fucked into you at a relentless pace. Hands down the hottest thing you had ever been privy to witness.

Another thing you're keen to notice is the way he's so focused on not losing himself. For a man so ready to fuck you in front of a mirror, it sure seemed like he couldn't handle it anymore. Evident by the way his head was thrown back, curses of your name tumbling from his lips over and over. Your eyes begin to roll, overwhelmed by the pleasure and the knowledge that you were the one who made this usually so confident and domineering man feel like this.

Almost as if he could sense your thoughts, his head comes back forward, his hands gripping tightly onto your ass now. "You like this, non?" It comes out with a quiet grunt "You like when I fuck you like this?"

When you're not answering as quickly as he'd like, he's suddenly bringing one hand down to slap against your ass harshly. You let out a yelp that turns into a pathetically pleasured whine, "Yes, Charles! Feels so good!"

Charles rubs his hand along where it had previously struck, soothing the angry flesh. "Good girl," he cooed through gritted teeth "milking this cock so good." One of his hands abandons its grip on your ass to reach and rub tight circles against your clit. It sends cascading shockwaves of bliss pulsing through your bones. Determined to make you cum again, he says "Come on, baby. Cum all over this cock," Charles can feel you tightening around him, your moans growing more insistent and drawn out "I want to feel you." He clenched his jaw, eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

He leans forward and loops an arm under you to palm at one of your breasts, rolling a nipple between his fingers as he pounds into you. The new angle allowing him to hit that spot inside of you. His thrusts grow even more erratic, teeth grazing the sensitive skin against your neck -- rapidly chasing his own release. The thought of him cumming, the look on his face, it was too much. You cried out his name and your walls rhythmically pulsed around his cock as you came for the second time this evening. It was his Achilles' heel. Charles' snapped his hips one final time, burying himself deep as he possibly could. There was a long and low grunt that bellowed from his throat as he emptied himself inside of you, both arms wrapping around your middle to hold you close to him.

There was a long moment where the both of you just stayed like that. Your heart rates coming back to normal, still joined together. "You are incredible. The sounds you make, how you take me..." Charles' praises you softly, his thumb running along your swollen lower lip "c'est magnifique. I love you." He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder before he pulls out, slow and careful. Watching as his release trickles from you, a wolfish grin spreads across his lips, but you're momentarily displeased. A whimper bubbles from your lips, wishing he could just stay inside of you forever.

You unfurled your body from it's position across the chair, trying to keep your thighs clamped together as best as you could, "I love you, too."

Before you can even blink, Charles is by your side, giving you his arm so he could walk you to the bathroom. He was sweet like that. Always making sure that he took the best care of you after he had done sacrilegious things to your body.

Together, you made your way down the hallway. Albeit, you had to practically waddle to ensure you didn't spill on the floors you had just so meticulously cleaned hours before.

"Maybe we could just keep the mirror there?" He looked over at you to suggest, cheeky grin in tow. Amusing suggestion from someone who just said that it was taking up too much space.

You laughed and then grimaced, your hand flying between your legs "Please, don't make me laugh right now, Charles."

[ziggymars]

ya'll my computer ate my cl16 musings. but don't fear i'm almost finished rewriting the poll winner - you will be fed

[ziggymars]

I’m clearing out my documents/drafts and have stumbled across a few Leclerc smut’s (nearly finished) that I have forgotten about.  Collecting dust and in need of reverence. So in light of Me Being Excited For The Upcoming United States GP(tm)….. I present to you — Would You Rather For Degenerates (Charles Leclerc Edition)

(To everyone who follows me for Timothée content I’m very sorry for this post, please don’t hate me. Timmyposting will resume shortly. For those of you who said they’d read anything I write regardless of who I’m writing about — come get y’all juice 🤍 ily, I hope you enjoy this deviation. )

I’ll probably eventually end up posting all of these anyways but I am struggling to choose the first one to post.

[ziggymars]

selling books!

reblogs are greatly appreciated<3

Hi everyone! I posted awhile ago about selling books on PangoBooks and wanted to update you all, I have added many more titles since then! Here’s the link to my shop if you’re interested in any! I believe I can only ship to the US!

you can message me with any questions about the books & prices!

I’ll put some titles and authors in the tag to give you an idea of what I’ve got!

[ziggymars]

🤍 🪽

Fic Writer Enrichment

Have you enriched your favorite writer today? Creativity has to be fed with novelty, enthusiasm, and support!! Send your favorite writer(s) one of these questions today!!

🧃Last character you hated on sight and still do?

🏆 What are the characters from your last fic bringing to a potluck?

🏎️ Favorite mythological creature?

🛟 What character/fic/wip has kept you up at night lately?

Or go off-book and compliment them on literally anything!! Praise that word count, three cheers for them finishing a fic no matter the length, send gratitude for sharing their talent and passion with the world, send cleansing energy into their inbox 😍🤩

7 of ??

[ziggymars]

Too soon