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warnings: established relationship. fluff. pet names. some words in spanish. just beni being that man. reader is from america. a bit of suggestive content. kissing. english isn’t my first language. also credits to the owners of the dividers!
a/n: soo i just couldn’t stop myself from writing something about this man bc omg. and there’s almost nothing about him, so i had to work 🤭 masterlist
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… immediately notice when you’re feeling down. He’d see the way your hands fidget with each other, how a bit of nervous sweat lingers. His reaction would depend on the situation. If you’re at a party or an event, he’d rest his hand on your lower back, tracing soft circles while pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and temple. If you’re somewhere quiet and private, like at home or in his studio, he’d ask what’s on your mind; never pressuring you, just showing genuine interest and concern. Like he always does.
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… interrupt you on purpose. You could be talking about the latest gossip at work or with your family, and he’d be listening with his chin resting on his hand, until his smile slowly grows wider. At that point, he’s no longer hearing your words. He’d lean in, cup your cheeks gently, and kiss you without warning. You’d probably blush and then roll your eyes. Sometimes you’d push him away lightly for interrupting, but he’d always respond with a soft, “Perdóname, mami. Es que me distraje.” (I’m sorry, baby. I got distracted)
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… know exactly when your period is coming. He notices how your mood shifts more intensely than usual, how your answers get quieter, almost hesitant. Because of that, he tries to solve every little problem before it even becomes one. He buys everything you need —obviously— and then takes you to bed, wrapping you in your favorite blankets. Your back rests against his chest while he massages your lower belly with soft, perfect pressure. Just the way he knows you need.
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… need you with him at some point during the Super Bowl halftime show. Benito would tell his manager and the production team that he wants you to be part of it, no matter what. That’s how you end up in “la casita” with Cardi B, Pedro Pascal, and Karol G, dancing. And not long after, running beside him with your country’s flag in your hands.
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… have his hands on you all the time. He’s a touchy guy, and you love every bit of it. At every concert, every event, he’s touching you somehow. His hand on your lower back, his arm draped over your shoulders pulling you close, or at the very least, one of his fingers hooked around your pinky.
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… try to take you everywhere with him. He knows every little detail about you, so if he’s invited to an event where your favorite celebrities will be, he brings you along just to see that smile he loves so much.
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… write songs about you. His latest album has at least two tracks that are specifically about you and what he feels. One of them even says outright that you’re the love of his life.
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… love when you sleep with your head on his chest, but he loves it even more when he’s the one resting his face between your breasts while you run your fingers along his bare back and through his hair.
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… not play at all when it comes to you. He likes people to know exactly who is the woman that takes his breath away. But he does not like when people cross boundaries. More than once, he’s given cold stares, sharp words, and even a shove when someone gets way too close to his woman.
ෆ ﹔ He’s… 100% an ass man. There’s even a video from one of his concerts. When he was in “la casita” he walked past you but didn’t leave before giving your butt a light squeeze, then flashed you that cocky smile when he saw you roll your eyes.
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… pull you backstage during one of his concerts, right before going on stage. The music is rumbling through the walls, the crowd is screaming his name, but his hands are on your waist like you’re the only thing grounding him. He’d lean in, lips brushing your ear, and whisper, “Dame un beso pa’ la suerte” (Give me a kiss for luck) before kissing you slow too slow for someone who’s about to perform in front of thousands.
ෆ ﹔ He’s the type to… look for you in the crowd the second he steps on stage. Even with the lights, the smoke, the chaos, he always finds you. And when he does, his smile shifts just a little, just enough for you to know it’s for you. During a dance break, he’d walk toward your side of the stage, eyes locked on you, biting back a grin as he drags his thumb across his lower lip. The fans think he’s teasing them, but you know better. That look is yours.
summary: 500. robin realizes the mistake she made after she did it.
cw: blurb, steve harrington has a big dick, hopper!reader, s5 volume 2 spoilers, established relationship, english is not my first language.
author’s note: here is a blurb of a scene that had me blushing lol @delarivasstuff it’s very much probable that i’ll make something of off this later :)
The room was already too quiet.
Not the comfortable kind — the kind that came after near-death experiences, bad coffee, and too many hours spent pretending everything was normal again.
Everyone was scattered around the WSQK basement: Steve slouched on the couch, Robin pacing with nervous energy, Hopper hovering near the counter like he didn’t trust furniture anymore.
And you —very stupidly— were sitting next to Steve.
His arm was around your shoulders, thumb tracing absentminded circles against your sleeve.
It was grounding. Familiar. Safe.
Until Robin Buckley opened her mouth.
“Steve hears that all the time and goes in anyway” she said suddenly, hands gesturing wildly as usual, “Don’t you?”
Steve groaned.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
She grinned.
Oh no. That grin meant destruction.
“I’m just saying,” she continued, turning to you two to emphasize, “I hear you both very frequently”
Silence.
Absolute. Deafening. End-of-the-world silence.
Your brain short-circuited.
Steve froze like someone had unplugged him. His ears went red first. Then his neck. Then his whole face, like embarrassment was spreading in real time.
Hopper blinked once.
Twice.
Then slowly turned his head toward you.
“…I don’t like this conversation,” he said flatly.
You felt your soul leave your body.
Dustin, sitting cross-legged, looked between Robin and Steve with pure, horrified curiosity. “Is that, like… something people just say now?”
Robin clapped her hands together. “Wow, okay, wow. I forgot there were parental figures present.”
Steve finally found his voice.
“Why would you say that?” he demanded, mortified. “Why would you say that in front of them?”
You covered your face with your hands, laughing despite yourself.
“I’m literally related to Hopper,” you mumbled through your fingers. “This is my worst nightmare.”
Hopper pointed at Steve without looking at him. “You. Harrington. I don’t want to know anything about you and my niece.”
Steve squeaked. “Trust me, sir, I don’t want you to know either.”
Dustin, still confused, squinted at Steve.
“…So is Robin right or—”
“DUSTIN!” three voices yelled at once.
Robin finally seemed to realize the chaos she’d caused. She winced. “Okay, in my defense, I forgot Steve had a girlfriend and authority figures.”
Steve dropped his face into his hands.
“I hate you,” he muttered.
You leaned into his side, whispering, “For what it’s worth… impressive confidence, Buckley.”
He shot you a betrayed look.
“You are not helping.”
Hopper cleared his throat loudly.
“Alright. New rule. Nobody talks about Steve’s—” he gestured vaguely, “—anything. Ever again.”
Robin raised her hands in surrender.
“Fair. Fair. Trauma bonding gone wrong.”
Steve exhaled, still bright red, and squeezed your shoulder gently.
“Please,” he murmured, “never let me forget this.”
You smiled up at him, eyes warm, teasing but affectionate. “Oh, I absolutely will.”
And across the room, Robin Buckley grinned — proud, unapologetic, and fully aware she’d just created a memory Steve Harrington would never emotionally recover from.
nsfw tw. 𝒇𝒕 𝜗ৎ — charles leclerc, max verstappen, oscar piastri, lando norris, carlos sainz & sebastian vettel. English isn’t my first language, I use grammar checkers to translate. Some stuff might sound weird, sorry!
CHARLES ✸ FACE SITTING
In a nutshell: Charles is utterly, hopelessly addicted to eating you out. He’ll cry and beg for hours just to have you sit on his face, and once you do, there’s no stopping him.
He starts slow, reverent: his tongue gently parts your lips, fluttering over your clit like he’s worshiping it. He’s so devoted, so fucking tender, that you’re the one who ends up crying from how good it feels. His hands never waver; they grip your thighs hard, fingers digging in like he’s claiming you.
When he gets bolder, he slides two fingers inside, then three, groaning into you as he feels you clench around them. He sucks your clit with the most obscene, wet sound, making you writhe, moan, grind your pussy harder against that beautiful face. His green eyes are glassy with tears, long lashes fluttering as he drowns in your taste, in your sweetness that drives him insane. He could die there and he’d die happy.
You come hard, your walls pulsing around his tongue that curls perfectly, hitting your G-spot again and again. Your fingers tangle in his soft brown hair, pulling without meaning to. Your juices pour down his chin, his lips, his cheeks like a faucet he never wants to turn off.
Still buried between your thighs, he presses open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin and rasps, voice wrecked: “God, you taste incredible… I could eat you for hours, drown in how sweet you are. Tell me you like it, mon amour. Yeah, that’s right, you go crazy when my tongue’s shoved deep inside your pussy, don’t you?”
MAX ✸ 69
Max is completely possessed by that number. So much that he’s already sworn that the day he has to give up the #1 on his car, he’ll slap a big, proud 69 on it. All because of you. Because it’s not just that he loves 69; with you it’s turned into a full-blown obsession, his all-time favorite position turned into a fucking sacrament.
He lies beneath you and spreads you wide open with those huge hands, prying your ass cheeks apart like he’s starving for every inch of you. His tongue drags slow and filthy from bottom to top, lapping up every drop of your wetness like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. He groans right into your pussy, the vibration shooting straight through you, while he bucks his hips up to fuck your mouth harder, deeper, until his cock slams against the back of your throat.
You cry. Your jaw aches, tears streaming, but you take it. You always take it. Because hearing his moans muffled against your folds, feeling him lose his fucking mind over your taste, is worth every second of the burn.
And between long, greedy licks, voice raw and shaking against your dripping cunt, he growls: “Come on, schat… you can take it. Look how easy you go dumb with my tongue buried in that sweet little pussy. Open that pretty mouth wider for me. Be my good girl.”
OSCAR ✸ MISSIONARY
Oscar is a simple man: no interest in fancy positions or anything that requires too much choreography. Why bother when he can just pin you beneath him, spread your legs, and fuck you slow while he watches every single flicker of pleasure cross your face like it’s the best show on earth?
He hooks your knees over his hips, ankles locked at the small of his back, and sinks into you in one deep, deliberate thrust, teeth clenched. He stays buried for a second, savoring the way your pussy grips him, then starts moving: slow, measured, perfect. Every stroke hits that sweet spot inside you dead-on, making you arch and dig your nails into his shoulders.
His brown eyes go almost black, pupils blown wide as they rake over your face, memorizing every gasp, every tear, every desperate little sound you make. Sweat beads on his forehead, drips onto your skin, and his cock throbs inside you like it’s already begging to come.
Voice ragged, almost pleading, he groans against your lips: “Fuck, baby… I’m not gonna last much longer. You’re gonna milk every last drop out of me. You’ll be dripping with me for days, I swear.”
LANDO ✸ COWGIRL
Lando is pure mischief: all cheeky grins and playful energy, even when he’s so deep inside you he can barely think straight. And nothing in the world amuses him more than watching you ride him like you were born for it.
He sits upright, back against the headboard or the wall (whatever gives him the best front-row seat), and grips your hips to steer you as you bounce, taking every inch of his cock until you’re stuffed full. He loves seeing you impaled on him, loves how your tits bounce right in front of his face, loves staring up at you like you’re the most breathtaking, filthy thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
You cling to his shoulders, nails digging in, because the pace is relentless and the pleasure is so sharp you’re scared you’ll fall apart. All you can do is moan broken syllables against his ear (“L-Lan… fuck… yes…”) because real words are long gone.
And he laughs low, breathless, that cocky little growl in his voice as he pulls you down harder: “Fuck, you’re so tight… Keep bouncing, baby. Take every inch like my good little slut. That’s it, gorgeous… nobody rides me like you do. Nobody.”
CARLOS ✸ DOGGYSTYLE
Carlos is dominance in its purest form. No one’s surprised: his favorite thing in the world is putting you on all fours, pinning your head down into the pillows with one strong hand, and driving his cock into you so deep you forget your own name.
From that angle he owns the perfect view: the arch of your back, the way your skin glistens, his thick cock sliding in and out, disappearing between your swollen lips while his hands spread your ass wider, forcing himself even deeper. You moan into the sheets, back bowing harder, and he wraps his fingers around your throat, yanking you up against his sweat-slick chest just long enough to bite your shoulder and drag his tongue along your neck before shoving you back down.
The sound is filthy: skin slapping skin, his balls smacking your clit with every brutal thrust until you’re screaming. And he leans in, voice low and calm, dripping with control: “That’s it, mi amor… taking every inch like my perfect good girl. You love it when I split you open on all fours, don’t you? Bet you’d let me fuck you like this anywhere: in the garage, on the jet, anywhere I want. My perfect little slut.”
SEBASTIAN ✸ LIFTED MISSIONARY
Sebastian is a different man once the helmet comes off. He slides a pillow beneath your hips with the same quiet precision he uses to set up a corner (nothing wasted, everything perfect). The moment your hips lift, the angle changes everything. He sinks into you slowly, so deep it steals the air from your lungs, the head of his cock kissing that spot inside you that makes your vision blur and your toes curl.
You writhe. You can’t help it. Every thrust is measured, relentless, hitting that same devastating place until tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you’re sobbing his name. Your body clamps down on him like it never wants to let go, milking him with every shudder until he finally breaks (hips stuttering, breath ragged) and spills inside you with a low, broken groan.
Still buried deep, trembling, he leans over you, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice rough with possession: “Fuck… I can get so deep like this. You take me so perfectly, Schatzi. I’m going to fuck you until you feel me for days. Every step you take tomorrow, you’ll still feel exactly who you belong to.”
summary: you and your boyfriend lando wanted to have fun with oscar.
tags/warnings: 18+, oral sex, spitting on the mouth, fingering, three-way kiss, bxb, cumming inside, cum kissing.
note: i wrote this in spanish for wattpad (YEAH, WATTPAD) but i had to publish it here too. this is quite a wet dream of mine, ngl. i like the idea of oscar being submissive and just a baby boy, yk.
Oscar Piastri knew he liked Lando.
It wasn't up for debate. He would get lost in Lando's tanned skin, hazel eyes, and brown curls. God, it was hell having to share ice baths with him and seeing him naked sometimes. It was hard hiding his feelings for him. But things got a lot harder when you came into Lando and Oscar's lives.
At first, you were just a childhood friend of Lando, and then you became his girlfriend. Oscar had difficulties trying to catch up with how things were changing around him now that you were always around, kissing Lando, sitting on his lap while watching funny videos on his phone, and making Lando's eyes shine like never before.
But Oscar's jealousy was confusing for him. Because if he wanted Lando only for himself, why the fuck did he also think of you at night? Thinking about your body and your lips.
One night, when Oscar was trying to sleep and all he could think about was you and Lando having sex, he realized that he was, in fact, jealous. But jealous of the both of you. He wanted to be Lando, and he wanted to be you.
He wanted the two of you.
And you, clever as a fox, noticed way before Lando could.
You liked it.
You liked the idea of Oscar thinking of you and Lando, probably getting hard at the thought of your mouth sucking Lando's cock or riding him.
You wanted to have some fun with Oscar as well. It was the best part of having a boyfriend like Lando because he let you have fun with other guys, but of course, he had to be there. He always had to be there because, no matter what, you were his. His girl, his dirty little girl.
"Babe," you said, catching Lando's attention. He was dressing up, and you were doing your makeup."Your friend, Oscar..."
"What about him?" he asked, turning around to lock eyes with yours.
"You turn him on," you said as if it were nothing, and then you started applying lip gloss on your lips. Lando laughed, taking it as a joke. "I'm being serious," you cut him off. You walked towards him to help him with his tie and collar. "He looks at you a lot, and there is something in his eyes that tells me that you turn him on just like a switch." You smiled, playing innocent as you pulled Lando closer to you by the grip you held on the tie.
"True or not, why is that relevant?" Lando asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I wasn't done, love," you said, sighing and rolling your eyes. "He also has something for me. I mean, he gets so nervous when I touch him or when I look him in the eyes. It's kind of cute," you laughed, remembering Oscar's red cheeks and stuttering while he tried to talk to you sometimes.
"I know where this is going... And no. Oscar is not an option. He's my teammate and friend too. Things can get a bit weird if something happens between us..." Lando shook his head and turned around again, searching for his shoes.
"But, babe..." you said, using your long eyelashes and doe eyes on him. "Don't tell me that he doesn't wake up something in you, even if it is just a little bit. I mean, have you looked at him?" You asked, your mouth close to his ear. "Don't you wonder how his face would look while cumming, if he moans and whimpers?" you asked, slowly touching Lando's neck.
Lando looked at you in silence for a second. He wouldn't say no to you. Besides that, you knew he liked the idea of bringing Oscar into bed with you.
"Fine," Lando sighed, and you gave him a short kiss on the lips, making him smile. "But I'll be the only one who can be inside you, okay?" He grabbed your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.
"You know you're the only one allowed to go deep on me, Lando," you smiled and gave him another kiss.
The next day, you invited Oscar to you and Lando's flat in London. You texted Oscar that it was going to be one of those typical nights the three of you had, with dinner and board games, maybe even some karaoke. But it was all a lie.
It was just a plan orchestrated by you to trap Oscar, a lamb, in your wolf 's claws.
After dinner, Lando and Oscar sat in the living room, looking over some board games to decide which one the three of you were going to play.
And then, the real game started when you arrived to the living room, faking a worried frown on your face.
"Oscar," you caught the boy's attention. Oscar stopped laughing alongside Lando on the floor and looked at you. "Lando always says I look hot in anything, but I know he says it because I'm his girlfriend, and that's kinda his job. Like asking your mom if you're handsome, she's even gonna tell you that your birthday should be considered a holiday... So, I know you're an honest guy," you smiled, seeing how he was getting red already just from your compliment. "And I'm sure you'll tell me the truth."
"Yeah, sure." Oscar nodded.
"I have a few options for the constructor championship party, but I'm not sure. How about I model the outfits for you and you tell me which one looks best on me, yeah?" you tilted your head with big eyes. "Please?"
Lando, without Oscar watching, smiled at your cleverness because you always ended up getting what you wanted. No matter what.
"Of course," Oscar shrugged.
"Don't you trust my opinion?" Lando asked, acting offended and making Oscar laugh.
"It's good to have a second opinion, sweetheart," you replied, wrinkling your nose. "Now, let's go to the room."
Oscar and Lando followed you through the hallway.
When they arrived at the master room, they took a seat on the king-size bed while they listened to you talk to yourself inside the walk-in closet.
Oscar was already nervous, as he could feel Lando's arms and legs grazing his body while sitting beside him. But not only because of that —he would also have to examine your whole body: your curves, legs, and maybe your tits. Oscar wasn't sure if he could hide how nervous you made him, with your confidence and all. He didn't want Lando to notice that because he was your boyfriend, and he was his friend.
"Coming over!" you shouted and then opened the closet doors. "Ta-da!" you made jazz hands while smiling.
You had this baby doll dress, orange and glittery, that looked more like a nightgown than a dress.
"So? What do you think, Oscar? Do I look good in this dress?" you asked, taking a few steps toward him. You then made a slow spin that culminated with your hands on your hips.
Oscar gulped. He inspected you. Your naked legs, then your thighs, and then he looked at your face. You were smiling, still waiting for his answer.
Lando, who instead of looking at you —since he had already seen you in that dress and almost ripped it off your body to fuck you on the sofa in the living room—, looked at Oscar. He examined Oscar's reaction to you in the dress, and although Lando liked to see the effect you were causing in Oscar, he also wanted to grab Oscar's face to remind him that, no matter what happened that night between him and you, you were still his, Lando's girl.
But, at the same time, Lando, selfishly, wanted Oscar to look at him the same way he was looking at you.
"It looks good," Oscar said . "You look good," he assured and looked at Lando. "Right?"
"Mmm, let me see again," Lando said, getting out of bed. Lando walked over to where you were and grabbed your hand, then spun you around, looking at you with determination. "It looks perfect on you, too perfect," Lando whispered to you and then kissed you.
It was nothing new that you and Lando kissed in front of Oscar, only that most of the kisses were short and innocent.
However, this kiss was different.
Lando grabbed your face, hard and firmly. Oscar, even a few feet away, could see and hear Lando's tongue entering your mouth.
Oscar was staring at you and Lando's lips, both pink and wet, and your tongues battling like swords in the hands of brave knights. Both awakened a painful appetite inside of him. He wanted to separate you both, but he also wanted you and Lando to keep kissing. Most importantly, he wanted to be part of that kiss as well.
Suddenly, Oscar noticed how you opened your eyes in between the kiss and gave him a look. The smile you gave him didn't last long because it was devoured by Lando's mouth. That look and smile from you made Oscar's heart skip a beat.
You stopped kissing Lando, though he was still holding you by the waist, and you looked at Oscar. "Come here," you pleaded with a soft voice. Oscar frowned his eyebrows, and then his eyes darted from yours to Lando's. Oscar was confused.
"You heard her, pretty boy," Lando spoke. A dangerous smile hung from his lips. He used the same serene tone as you, yet in his voice was a male asperity and growl that sent goosebumps down Oscar's spine.
Oscar got up, almost automatically, out of bed. In front of him, a few steps away, you were waiting for him, with Lando behind you, as if he were your bodyguard or custodian. Oscar walked toward you clumsily until he was face to face with you.
You didn't say a word. Your lips approached Oscar's, and he felt his nervous breath against your mouth. Then, with your hands on his face, you started kissing him. His lips didn't move . You backed up a few inches, seeing Oscar's eyes wide open and his lips wet with your saliva.
Oscar looked at you, surprised, and then he looked at Lando, scared.
You laughed at his reaction, with your hands around his neck. Despite Oscar's surprise, he was holding your waist firmly.
Lando approached you both, as if he were a referee about to separate two boxers hugging in the ring, but Lando stood there, smiling.
"It's okay," Lando nodded in Oscar's direction. Oscar didn't have time to react, because you were kissing him again, more intensely. This time, Oscar, though late and clumsy, kissed you back while trying to assimilate what was happening. He had no idea why he was kissing you while Lando, your boyfriend, was watching. But Oscar ended up getting lost in that kiss, in the way your tongue was beating his and how your teeth occasionally bit his lower lip.
Oscar then felt a hand running through his hair and grabbing him by the nape, but he immediately knew it wasn't your hand because your hands were on his chest and abdomen. The hand on his nape and hair was big, firm, and rough. It was Lando's hand, slowly pulling his hair.
Oscar also felt Lando's other hand grabbing one of the hands he had on your waist. Lando guided Oscar's hand and placed it on your ass, as if he were telling Oscar what to do. Oscar understood, because he pulled you closer to him, making you feel how hard he was getting just from kissing you.
You separated from Oscar's mouth and immediately turned to Lando's, giving him a taste of Oscar's saliva. Oscar, who was catching his breath, looked at you.
You were kissing Lando, your tongue dancing with his, but Oscar looked down when he felt one of your hands still on him.
You were desperately playing with his shirt, as if you wanted to get rid of it to touch his skin, and then he felt your hand find the waistband of his jeans and the growing bulge between his thighs.
Oscar had to close his eyes and swallow hard, listening intently to the wet sounds of the kisses between you and Lando, and your hand gripping his crotch. Then, your hand went up, searching blindly for Oscar's face. First, you found his sharp jaw and then his cheek. Finally, you pulled him closer to you.
The three of you faced each other.
You kissed Oscar, then kissed Lando, and finally, somehow, you managed to catch both their mouths and trap them in a kiss.
Three mouths. Three tongues together and three bodies rubbing against each other.
You felt hands on your back, on your ass, and even on your tits.
You touched them differently.
You touched Lando with hunger and despair, a desperation that could be confused with hate, while with Oscar, you were gentle, treating him like a porcelain figurine, afraid of breaking him.
You decided to pull away and observe Lando and Oscar. Their lips, like yours, were red. And with one hand on Lando's neck and the other on Oscar's, you smashed them together as if they were your dolls and you were playing, making them kiss.
Oscar had not been able to truly taste Lando's lips during the three-way kiss, but now, the only tongue inside his mouth and the only lips devouring his belonged solely to Lando.
Oscar could immediately feel the roughness of kissing Lando. Lando was hard, violent, and rude. That made Oscar weak but hungry for more of that.
Oscar ran his fingers through the curly hair of Lando. With his other hand, he managed to reach for your neck. Because, despite his mouth being against Lando's, he had not forgotten about you.
Oscar touched you shamelessly, and when all he felt was your dress, he began to pull the skirt of the dress, asking you silently to take it off while he continued kissing Lando. Oscar was also feeling Lando getting hard against him, his crotch touching his lower abdomen.
Lando pulled away with a smile, still grabbing Oscar's face and looking at him. Lando got lost in how fucking good Oscar looked under that dim light, with his eyes lit and wet lips as he gasped for air. Lando almost audibly thanked you for coming up with the idea of inviting Oscar.
"I didn't know you were so desperately hungry for me and my girl, Jack," Lando said with a playful smile, slapping one of Oscar's cheeks, while his other hand gripped the nape of Oscar's neck.
"I guess the feeling goes both ways," Oscar replied with a half-smile.
Oscar was beginning to lose his shyness, and you were already in your underwear.
"Oh, believe me, Oscar. Lando and I go both ways..." You winked at him and then pushed him onto the bed.
In less than three seconds, you were on top of him.
Oscar started kissing you while grabbing your ass, and with that grip on you, he rubbed you against his lap. You could feel his dick, hard as a rock, creating friction against your clit, while Oscar could sense how hot and wet you were down there.
Oscar also squeezed your thighs and growled against your mouth when the rubbing and humping felt pleasurable.
You pulled back a few inches. Your thumb traveled to Oscar's lower lip, and you opened his mouth. Then, you spat in his mouth, splashing his lips as well. Oscar kissed you again, this time more intensely.
When you and Oscar stopped kissing, you bit your lip at what was happening in front of you. Lando, without his shirt and showing his cock, was waiting while looking at you and Oscar.
"Can you help me with this?" you asked Oscar, petting his hair and thigh. Oscar looked you in the eye and then nodded quietly.
You slipped out of bed to the floor and got onto your knees. The floor was hard and cold.
Oscar did it too. He was on his knees beside you.
Lando hesitated with a smile, unsure of which mouth to enter first.
"Him first," you said loudly while looking at Oscar, having read Lando's mind. "Be a good boy, okay?" You petted his hair one more time.
Oscar nodded and looked up at Lando.
Lando, feeling a little mercy for Oscar, introduced only the tip of his dick, licking his lips when he felt Oscar's mouth and tongue, hot and wet, swirling around his dick. Lando felt the brush of his teeth but didn't mind much because he knew it was Oscar's first time, and Lando, somehow, liked a little bit of pain.
Then, slowly, Lando ended up entering his whole dick into Oscar's mouth. Lando had a hand on Oscar's head, sometimes pushing deep inside him, wanting to feel very much inside of Oscar. But also, Lando gave him little breaks, allowing Oscar to catch his breath, and in doing so, Lando ran the tip of his dick, pink and very wet, across Oscar's lips, even slapping his cheek with his cock while smiling in his direction, enjoying Oscar's submissiveness.
After fucking Oscar's mouth, Lando alternated to yours.
You, like Lando used to say, took it like a champion. You knew what to do. Your tongue licked his dick and swirled around the tip; your lips sucked the tip of his dick as well. Lando let a few gasps escape when he felt deep in your throat.
A few minutes later, between mouths, Lando ended up cumming in your mouth. It was hot and thick, dripping from your tongue and lips onto your tits. You looked at Oscar, cleaning the cum off your tits and taking it to your mouth as if it were honey.
And, with some of Lando's cum in your mouth, you leaned toward Oscar and kissed him, both of you tasting Lando.
"Now I want to taste you," Oscar whispered near your lips, taking you by surprise. "Please," he asked, pulling you closer to him.
"Of course, baby," you whispered back and then threw yourself back onto the bed.
There, in bed, you settled between the pillows and slipped off your panties and took off your bra. Oscar and Lando looked at you, both standing, while you started to play with yourself. You were rubbing your clit and looking directly into Oscar's eyes.
Oscar climbed onto the bed and went straight to your pussy. You held your breath when you felt Oscar's hot breath against your pussy, and then you started panting when the tip of Oscar's tongue began to rub in circles on your clit. After using the tip of his tongue, he started licking and moving his lips. He was devouring your pussy like he had done such a thing before. You were moaning and gasping for air, and then Lando came to your side and kissed you, swallowing not only your saliva but your moans as he played with your tits.
You pulled Oscar's hair when his tongue started going faster. You were dripping wet. The sound of Oscar going down on your soaked pussy filled the room. Finally , you felt the orgasm shake your body so hard and good you had to twist around the sheets while Lando was petting your hair.
Oscar seemed to catch your cum with his mouth , and just like you did with him when Lando filled your mouth with his cum, Oscar went up to your mouth and dripped it on your tongue.
You kissed him, feeling his crotch on your abdomen.
Then, in the blink of an eye, you had the two of them kissing you at the same time. After a while, they took turns. When Lando was kissing you, Oscar was sucking and nibbling your tits or neck, and when you were kissing Oscar, Lando bit your thighs and fingered you. When Lando was fingering you, with three fingers inside you, you moaned and whimpered into Oscar's mouth while also scratching his back with your nails.
But Lando also kissed Oscar, both on top of you. You helped Oscar take his shirt off. Then Lando, without warning , put his hand in Oscar's pants, and Oscar released his first moan of the night. Lando's hand was moving against Oscar's hard dick, and it felt so good feeling Lando's hand slippery against his wet dick that the only thing Oscar could do was moan and bite his lips.
Oscar was panting and moaning , and Lando licked his lips and went for another kiss. Lando stopped playing with Oscar's dick when he knew he was too close to cumming. "Not so fast," Lando said, taking his hand out of Oscar's pants. "She's finishing the work," Lando pointed at you with his chin, and you smiled at Oscar.
You grabbed Oscar by the hand and laid him down. He was looking up at the ceiling, out of breath, as he felt your tongue play with the tip of his wet and throbbing dick. While you were sucking on Oscar's dick, making him moan and laugh at the same time, you felt Lando on your back, grabbing you by your hair.
He entered his dick into your thigh pussy, but thankfully, it was so wet that it went in smoothly. Though Lando was enjoying every second inside you, he couldn't stop looking at Oscar's face while you had his dick in your mouth.
All you could remember after that was Lando cumming inside you and how he was moaning in your ear with his abdomen still shaking against your lower back because of the orgasm, and also the way Oscar grabbed you by your hair while cumming in your mouth. Then, the three of you were kissing at the same time again.
The next morning, you woke up with Oscar on one side and Lando on the other, both of them holding you.
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summary: you and sabrina were friends who occasionally would kiss, and maybe even more than that.
tags/warning: 18+, dry humping, squirting.
notes: sabrina is a pillow princess, but i know my girl also likes to ride, so this makes sense in my head, ok?
You were Sabrina's songwriter, and it was fun. Sabrina was outgoing, funny, and interesting. That was the reason you loved writing music with her. At first, you didn't know much about her relationships, so most of her breakup songs were written by her and revised by you. But then, after one long evening trying to express Sabrina's feelings for her, you invited her to get coffee together; that same night, she told you everything. She opened up to you and said how boys had broken her heart and how many insecurities she gained after each one of them. Also, that night, you and she became closer. It was easier writing songs with her now that you knew her better. But it also quickly turned sour for you because you realized you were falling for her —you were already too deep in the hole.
Somehow, you managed to hide your feelings for an entire year. Sabrina's new album was released successfully, but her recent relationship went down the drain. You told her, trying to make her laugh, that her relationship was a sacrifice for her success. And you had to put aside your feelings to support her and be there for her. Yet, it was getting harder for you whenever she hugged you, and you had to control yourself not to kiss her right there on the spot.
Finally, it was New Year's night. You were in New York City because Sabrina had invited you to a party she was hosting in her penthouse. There were a lot of people, as you expected. After all, Sabrina was very social and liked to have a good time with her friends. Although you weren't a big fan of crowded places, you still went. You were in a corner, with a glass of white wine in your hand, and slowly moving your hand to the rhythm of a song playing in the background. Sabrina was here and there, trying to talk with everyone at the same time and not wanting to miss the fun around. But, after a few drinks, Sabrina stumbled into you, grabbing your arms to avoid falling.
"You need to ease up on the drinks," you said, laughing and feeling Sabrina's acrylic nails digging into your skin.
"I just got a great idea for a song, and I don't want to forget it, so come," Sabrina pulled you out of your safe corner in the room and took you to the second floor, to her bedroom. She pushed you inside, muffling the music and noise from downstairs, and you sat on her bed as she started to look for a notebook around her room. "There's gotta be a notebook somewhere in here. Or I can go downstairs and grab some paper towels or whatever," Sabrina said rapidly and a bit euphoric.
"Don't worry, I'll write it down on my notes," you said, showing off your phone to her. "So, what's the song about? Partying in New York or New Year's nostalgia?" you asked, with your fingers inches away from the keyboard on your phone.
"More like a 'I miss you more than ever right now that the year is ending because I started the year with you, and I'm ending it alone' type of song," Sabrina answered. Her cheeks were already red, and she was looking at her bare feet, ashamed.
Sabrina knew you wouldn't like it. You hated her ex, and you had already stated you didn't want to write about him.
"Are you serious?" you asked, throwing the phone away and crossing your arms over your chest. You were biting your lower lip, showing how upset you were getting. "Brina, you were flirting with a guy like five seconds ago, and now you want to write about your stupid ex?"
"Wow. Why do you always seem to have a problem with me flirting with guys?" Sabrina asked, a bit annoyed at your comment.
"I don't have a problem with that," you lied. Of course, you had a problem with the girl you liked flirting with boys in front of you. But you couldn't say anything. Except that you brought it up every single time you could.
"Well, it seems like you do. Like, fuck, God forbid a girl have fun for once. And that doesn't mean that I can't still feel bad about what he did to me," Sabrina rolled her eyes as she leaned on the vanity.
"I didn't say that you couldn't flirt," you said, standing on your feet. You felt bad for making her upset, but you weren't going to apologize this time. You were done with her. Or maybe you were a bit tipsy from the white wine from before. "Just leave me out of your boy stuff."
"Why are you mad?" Sabrina asked. Her blue eyes were shining. She had those drunk eyes. Big and bright, enough to pull a whole cruise ship to crash into the ocean, trapped inside of her iris. If you were on that cruise ship, you would be the first one to not fall, but to throw yourself in as if she were a siren singing and guiding you to her, to your death. "Please, don't get mad at me," Sabrina spoke softly, dragging her words carefully as she walked towards you. "Please..." she begged. She stopped right where you were and put her hands on your waist.
Yeah, there was someone else between you two. See, when Sabrina was drunk, she liked to kiss you and touch you. And Sabrina herself had addressed it before, dropping it like she was telling you what time it was or sharing a fun fact about herself. It was casual, at last. But you couldn't tell her that you liked her, and that after every makeout session with her, you would touch yourself in bed thinking about her tongue inside your mouth, or riding your pillow as you imagined the pillow was her.
That would freak her out, and you wanted her close even if it was as a friend who she occasionally kissed when she got drunk. But Sabrina wasn't blind or oblivious to the fact that if she let you, you would fuck the hell out of her no matter where you two were at.
"Who says I'm mad at you?" you rolled your eyes. You could feel Sabrina's hands on your waist and her vanilla scent lingering in the air around you.
"Your face says," she answered, moving close to you.
"So?" You said. You felt your heart pounding so hard in your chest.
"I know what to do to take that off of you," she said, pulling you by the waist to her bed. She laid you down and then got on top of you.
Usually, things between you and her didn't start that way. Your make-outs were subtle, short, and sweet as well. Never the other way around.
So this was different. Sabrina must be too horny to be getting on top of you with a smile while she put her hands on your chest. You held your breath as you felt the weight of her on your lap. You couldn't control yourself, and your hands started to travel to her naked legs due to the short skirt she was wearing.
Sabrina kissed you. It was a slow kiss, and her tongue was playing with yours. You started to feel Sabrina moving on top of you in circles, and you had to bite her lower lip when one of her movements struck right there, making you feel an electricity in the area and in your lower back due to the friction of her pelvis against yours.
"This feels good," Sabrina mumbled into your mouth.
"Wait," you said. You opened your legs, showing a glimpse of your red panties under the dress you were wearing. Then, you grabbed one of Sabrina's legs and put it aside, also exposing her black lacy lingerie. You guided her to your wet and throbbing spot covered by the red panties, and she let out a slight whimper as she bit her lip when she felt the contact.
"Now, you can keep moving," you said, and laid back down.
Sabrina put one hand on your knee and started to move, up and down and in circles. Her wetness was staining your panties, and her moans were getting louder. You put your hand on her leg, touching her soft skin as she started humping against you and whimpering. Her blonde curls were bouncing, her naked back starting to sweat, and her pussy was wet and hot against yours.
"Yes, yes," she said, gasping for air.
"You're moving so good, keep going, please," you whispered, feeling wet and close to cumming.
Sabrina let out a laugh that later became a moan.
Then, she started going faster as she rubbed and humped against you. Your panties were soaked, a dark red stain covering the center. You were sure it was mostly Sabrina's since her lacy panties couldn't contain how wet she was.
Sabrina went faster. The bed was shaking, squeaking under the weight of you both.
You hit your orgasm first, rolling your eyes as you felt it explode in your clit and expand to your chest. Sabrina was second, and she experienced something different than you.
Warm, clear water splashed onto your panties as Sabrina rested her pussy against yours when she hit her climax, and then it ran down one of your thighs. Sabrina, still holding onto one of your knees, clenched her legs between you while her legs were shaking. She was still gasping for air and whimpering.
"God, you're a mess, baby doll," you said, laughing, feeling your legs wet because of Sabrina's squirt on you.
"I know," Sabrina said, out of breath, as she got off of you. "We should do this more often and without clothes." She ran a hand through her hair while looking at you.
"Sure," you smiled. "I want to feel that wet kitty hot and sloppy against mine."
Sabrina kissed you, smearing whatever lipstick was left on her lips.
"Jeez, I'm soaking wet," Sabrina said when she stood up to go to the bathroom.
"Yeah, you're still dripping from your left thigh," you said, and you ran your index finger through that single drop of cum mixed with Sabrina's squirt and put your finger in your mouth. You sucked it. "Sweet," you licked your lips.
summary: you were max verstappen's teammate and you two couldn't stand each other... or maybe there was something else.
tags/warning: 18+, oral sex (female receiving), face-riding, fingering & blood.
note: so... this is quite literally my first time writing something in english, so don't mind if there's grammar errors or if something doesn't make sense (pls, i promise you i write better in spanish). it's kinda short, but whatever.
You didn't know how to live up to the expectations that had been built around you. Did you want to be the first female F1 driver? Of course, it was everything you had ever dreamed of. And at first, it was amazing. Fans, mostly older men, weren't excited about you. They hated you. But people eventually accepted the fact that you were the new Red Bull driver. Well, almost everyone. Because your teammate, the first driver and the golden boy who brought Red Bull to glory, wasn't your biggest fan. In fact, he hated you. And he had no problem letting you, and everyone, know it.
The reason behind Max's hatred towards you? He felt overpowered by you. He didn't hesitate to tell you- admitting that shameful feeling you and your natural response to speed, danger, and adrenaline generated in him. It was after qualifying, and you had done a great job moving swiftly through the wet asphalt of the track. He hadn 't had a good outcome, though. Pit stop problems , traffic, and going off the track had made him qualify fifth. It wasn't your fault, yet he found a way to put the blame on you, to twist things around and make you the center and cause of his failure.
"That's the thing, Max. You're not always right. God, almost never!" you shouted as you threw your helmet onto the floor. You weren't reckless, nor was it easy to make you angry, but when you were, you preferred to be away and silent. But Max had his ways of making you want to scream your lungs out whenever he made you mad. "You're still the first driver ; you're the face of the team, got it? Nobody's going to take that away from you. But why can't you be, not happy, but at least good with me being better than you for at least once? This is the best result I've had in a while, okay? And here you are, playing the fucking bad guy again, jeez! Man up, dude. I'm not fucking asking you to be my friend or mentor, for fuck's sake! I'm just asking you to be a teammate at last," you pointed your finger at him. Both your faces were red, and the garage felt too small and too hot, although it was raining outside and the wind was howling, bringing in some fallen leaves.
"You don't get it, do you?" Max asked, his voice low and sharp. He was already facing you, his nose almost touching yours. His heavy breath was hitting your face as if it was his way of throwing fists at you since he physically couldn't or wouldn't do that to you. "Maybe you don't have much faith in yourself , but when I look at you, I see a threat," he said, fixing his dark blue eyes on yours. He was taller than you, which made him look, with his darkened eyes and tense jaw, more intimidating than ever. Yet, you kept your head up, almost challenging him to keep talking. "And I won't lose my fucking seat to you. Because I don't know if you've noticed, but the clock is ticking for me. I'm not getting any younger, and drivers like you," Max growled at you, his nose hitting yours for the first time and making you take a step back, only to feel a wall against you, "that are quick, faster, and hungry... Drivers like you are what teams are risking their chances for. So, yes, I will do what it takes to be better than you at any chance, even if it means playing dirty. Got it?" Max looked at you, up and down, and then left the garage.
You cried. Not because what Max told you affected you in any way, but because in that very moment, all you wanted to do was scream and break his nose. But also, after that night, you became ruthless. The respect you had for him, not as a man but as a driver, went missing. He wanted to get dirty? You got dirtier.
At some point, it was inevitable to try hiding the repulsive feeling you had whenever you were in the same room with him, which happened very often because you two had to spend a lot of time together. Your face showed how much you wanted to hurt him; your words were sharp knives trying to cut his armored skin, and your talent on track and with the car was your best weapon to hurt him. But, as much as you tried, he still managed to get under your skin. The problem was, Max knew you. He knew how to piss you off.
It was the Austin GP. Max was behind you for one second. There were four laps left, and you were trying to secure that first position since you and Max were just five points apart in the WDC. You knew you could hold him behind because your tires were older and already hot, making him struggle to keep your pace. You should've seen it coming. He wasn't trying to overtake you. After all, he wanted your position, and overtaking you wasn't the only way to steal that position from you. And Max knew you were on third strike for going off track. If you went off track, even for just a second, and he turned up his radio, it was over for you. And it happened. You went off track because all you could see in your side mirrors was Max coming to get you. And then you got a 10 -second penalty.
Just like that, the podium slipped out of your fingers, and though the championship was still a possibility, the points difference was already making noise. You got out of the car, got your weight taken, and your family was already there to support you, but you walked past them. You wanted to be alone. You couldn't stand hearing the Netherlands national anthem, hearing his name or watching him from below the podium, popping open the champagne and getting bathed in the foamy and bitter liquid. So you hid in one of the rooms of the hospitality and stayed there for a long hour, during which you cried and pulled your hair back as you felt overwhelmed and powerless.
And then, he showed up . Max had the marks of the helmet still fresh on his face, as if it were the ghost of that red lion helmet of his. His hair was dripping tiny drops of whatever champagne still lingered at the tips of his blonde strands, and he was looking at you from the door frame with an arrogant smile drawn on his face. In his hands, the trophy shined. You gave him a look, while sitting on the floor, defeated but not done. Then you got up, facing him.
Although it wasn't his fault that you went off track, you wanted to blame him for it . You had to. If not, your own failure would eat you alive. So you would rather blame Max for not winning.
He was making it easy with the way he stood in front of you , like you had to take a bow and not look directly into his eyes.
"You motherfucker!" You had never gotten physical with him, but you couldn't control yourself anymore, and you pushed him. The trophy fell from his hands, hitting the ground hard. He stopped smiling and slapped your hands away from him. Then, in the blink of an eye, you found yourself against the wall with his forearm choking your throat.
His eyes were red this time. You had to dig your nails into his skin to make him release you. When he did, you felt a sting in your throat , and your eyes were watering, but you pushed toward him again.
"I fucking hate you," you said. For the first time, your voice was unsteady and trembling. It was something more than anger. And you felt it deep in your bones as you looked at him. "I hate you, Verstappen. I really, really hate you!" You pushed him again, but he didn't respond.
You weren't thinking. There was a bell ringing in your ears, and you felt your body hot and sticky under the suit. Your mind was also blank; your body moved automatically, as if you were some videogame player and someone else was giving you commands. You first threw your helmet, this time against the wall. Then, you let out a scream that sent shivers down Max's back. You pushed Max again, and when you didn't get a response from him, you hit him in the face. Your fist landed on his nose. Blood, thick and dark red, streamed from his nose and traveled quickly to his mouth, staining his white teeth crimson.
He looked at you, with your chest pounding while tears streamed silently down your face, as he tasted the metallic flavor of his own blood on the tip of his tongue.
He ran his tongue over his blood-tainted teeth and drew a maniac smile. You took a step back, but Max caught you by your collar and pinned you against the wall. It hurt, but you didn't let out a single sound out of your mouth.
"Say it again," Max said to you. You had your hands around his, trying to get them off your collar, but it was in vain. "Say it again. Say that you hate me. Come on. I want to hear you say you hate me," Max said, slamming you back against the wall.
"I hate you," you said. Tears were running down your cheeks, and you started to sob. "I hate you, I hate you."
"I don't fucking hear you!" He shouted in your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, and you were also grabbing his collar now that you accepted he wasn't going to let you go; you weren't letting him go either.
"I hate you!" you finally screamed as loud as you could. You hadn't screamed like that in years, since you were a kid. But it felt good to let that out.
Max let go, and you almost fell to your knees. You also let go of him.
You two held stares before giving in to temptation.
Max took the first step and pinned you against the wall once again. This time, with a hand around your neck. His lips caught yours in the air. You could taste the champagne and blood on his tongue as he pushed it into your mouth, as if he wanted to reach for more "I hate you's" that could've been stuck in your throat.
And though this grip on your throat wasn't meant to hurt you, you could feel his fingers burning the skin around your neck as you tangled your fingers in his messy, wet hair. You pulled it back, and he tightened the grip around your neck.
He bit your lip violently. You couldn't distinguish your own blood from his in your mouth, but it tasted good. His hand let go of your neck and moved to your waist as he buried his face in your neck and clavicle. He was biting, licking, and kissing your skin while you whispered soft moans in his ear. That made him touch your body as if he were starving.
Both of his hands were on you, desperately exploring while you kissed him.
"I still fucking hate you," you mumbled, his lips almost silencing your words.
"You can still hate me in bed," he answered, inches away from your mouth.
You don't remember how you actually got into his room, but you entered the space with him all over you. The blood on his nose was dry, but there was a bruise there, and you almost felt bad when you noticed it under the dim light of the room. But you didn't have time to run your fingertips over his warm, bruised skin because he led you to his bed as he kept kissing and choking you.
He almost ripped off your suit, and then you took off your sports bra. He didn't mind that your skin was sweaty; he still put his mouth on your breasts. His tongue, warm and wet, licked your nipples, and one of his hands was already pulling your panties away. He wasn't taking his suit off, so you knew this, all of this, was his way of apologizing for today. He was there to give you pleasure, though in the making of it, he would be feeling pleasure as well.
You gasped when his rough fingertips started playing with your wet clit, making you raise your hips a little. He pressed his fingers and began making circular movements as his tongue played with yours. Then, after getting his fingers wet, Max buried them inside of you, making their way into that ocean you already had down there.
"Fuck!" you moaned against his lips. You could feel his fingers in and out. You could also hear the wet sound they made every time they entered in you again.
He started kissing your neck, then he made his way to your belly, biting and leaving wet kisses behind, and finally arriving at where his fingers were. He pulled them out and used his tongue to do the rest of the work. It felt rough yet soft at the same time, going up and down on you. You could feel how you were dripping, not exactly sure if all that warm, thick liquid was all yours or if Max's saliva was mixed in it. You had to trap his face with your thighs when you started feeling the waves of pleasure hitting you off the deck to the edge of it.
You pulled his hair, clenched your thighs hard, and panted as you felt the orgasm shake your whole anatomy. Max pulled up and kissed you. In his lips and tongue, you could taste him. Yet, he spat in your mouth, giving you more to taste, and you swallowed it. It went down smooth, and he kissed you again.
"Ride my face," he told you, sitting beside you with his legs spread open. You noticed how hard he already was. You wanted to ride him, get on top of his throbbing, wet dick, feel his cum, warm and thick, fill you inside. Yet, riding his face sounded fun.
He laid down. At first, you sat on his chest, with your fingers clutching his hair. He looked very different like that, lying down, waiting desperately for you to put your pussy in his mouth. But he didn't look defeated; he looked surrendered, which held differences. And you liked how he was looking at you from below, with glossy lips covered in your wetness from before when he was down on you.
You held your breath when your pussy was inches away from his mouth as you felt his warm breath against it, sending shivers down your whole body. You set in. His tongue made contact with your clit, and you started moving as your fingers gripped his hair. You humped and moaned, feeling not only his whole mouth on your pussy and the slight brush of his growing facial hair but also making contact with the tip of his nose. It kind of hurt him when you rode his nose as well, because of the bruise already marked around it. He moaned, but you didn't care about his pain. Although it hurt him, he also didn't want you to go away. He grabbed one of your thighs with one hand, gripping hard on it, and with his other hand, he grabbed your ass. Max wanted to get as close as he could to you, though you were pretty much all over him. You ended up cumming , your legs shaking with Max's face stuck in between them.
You then got off of him and laid beside him, catching your breath as you still felt your legs weak and numb.
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀LESTAPPEN AS YOUR BOYFRIENDS 𓂃 ໑ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀max verstappen 𝒙 gn!reader 𝒙 charles leclerc
𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐀'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝜗ৎ — fluff headcanons + slightly angsty and suggestive content. Max and Charles are bi, this’s to adapt the fic to any type of reader. The reader’s genitals, gender, pronouns, appearance or sexuality are not mentioned. Dom!Max, Sub!Charles. Sub!Reader. English is not my first language, so there may be grammatical errors. Enjoy :)
𝜗ৎ ⠀ AT FIRST, YOU DIDN’T THINK IT WOULD WORK. You had never been one for throuples. Three-person relationships had always left a bad taste in your mouth; you either ended up as the third wheel or left out entirely. Maybe that’s why you thought this would be a bad idea too.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ But Max and Charles had made an effort from the start to make one thing very clear: the three of you were on equal footing. Each had their favorites, that was obvious, but you had also learned to love and respect each other equally, to function as a single unit. You couldn’t deny your weakness for Max, the same weakness he felt for Charles, and that Charles, in turn, felt for you. It was a cycle. A little puzzle in which all three pieces fit perfectly.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ Charles and you were pure chaos, the ones who brought the fun, the youthful, free energy. Max, on the other hand, was more serious, more reserved. He always ended up taking care of both of you, with that protective, steady air that made him the voice of reason. What he said, you two did.. And you couldn’t deny that this side of him gave both you and the Monegasque goosebumps, especially when you pulled a prank and he decided not to speak to you for a couple of hours.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ In your relationship, there was nothing that a few sweet kisses and a couple of hugs couldn’t fix. When Max got upset, he crossed his arms on the sofa, grabbed his phone, and ignored you both for the rest of the afternoon. Then Charles and you would sit on either side of him, one on each of his thighs, planting soft, playful kisses on his neck, jawline, and ears, just enough for Max to roll his eyes and end up forgiving you, wrapping you both in a hug.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ Things were very different at races than at home. Throuples weren’t well regarded, and even less so the fact that two drivers were openly bisexual. That’s why publicly you were in a relationship with Charles, while Max maintained the image of a coveted bachelor. It went without saying that the Dutchman wouldn’t even look at anyone trying to flirt with him for more than two seconds, but it was also true that keeping the relationship secret was sometimes painful.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ He hated many things, but not being able to kiss or hug you two after a good race was, without a doubt, what hurt the most. You couldn’t even look at him for more than two seconds when talking in the paddock, just to avoid speculation. And yet, even with a camera pointing at you, when both knew you couldn’t show affection because the next day it would be in every sports outlet, it made you want to cry. You just wanted to kiss him and tell him how much you loved him. But then, as always, Max would take a risk, sliding a hand under the counter, where no one could see, and intertwining his warm fingers with yours. That simple gesture was enough to remind you he was there, with you, and his touch seemed to whisper, “I’m here, liefde.”
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ Still, being at home was also your safe place, your stronghold, your refuge, the only place where the three of you could truly be yourselves, without restrictions. Where Charles could act needy for attention, and Max would tease him, holding him by the waist while you covered his face with kisses.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ In your free time, the three of you liked watching movies, playing video or board games, helping Charles with a new song, enduring Max humiliating you and Charles on simulators, having sex occasionally, or just lazing on the sofa with the fan blowing on your faces.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ Charles and you always found a comfortable spot on Max’s chest. The blond would hold you close to his warm body, letting you hide your heads in his broad chest or in the nape of his neck. Breathing in his masculine scent gave an immediate sense of safety. Both of you would trace his arms or abdomen with your fingers. Charles, with his impeccable French accent, would comment, “We should stop racing and just chill like this forever.” And you both laughed, even though you knew he could never give up speed for anything in the world.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ Everyone had your own way of showing love. Charles was more about physical affection and words; Max, about acts of service and quality time. And in fact, it worked because each brought something that made the relationship flow naturally. You loved it when Charles kissed you and whispered sweet words in French, like “Je t’aime tellement, mon amour,” or when Max solved one of your problems and stayed to spend time with you watching your favorite movie. In the end, you realized that even though you had been unlucky with throuples before, here everything fit perfectly.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ You could fight. You were in a relationship with two extremely competitive men, and Max was by far the most stubborn of the three. He had a hard time compromising on things that didn’t align with his ideals, and taking the blame wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but he tried, like everyone else.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ “Look, I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with.” And before Charles could say anything, he interrupted, “Shut up, Charles. Let me finish. But… I love you guys, and you know I hate fighting with you.”
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ And when all the words had been said, you and the Monegasque welcomed your boyfriend into your arms. Maybe it was at that very moment, with Max trapped like a sandwich between your bodies, that he realized the apartment, though everyone could feel free there, wasn’t really his safe place, his stronghold. His true refuge was being between your arms, surrounded by two pairs of arms, with his head nestled in the crook of your neck, while Charles left a kiss on his cheek and along his jawline.
⠀𝜗ৎ ⠀ “We love you, mon amour,” Charles murmured between kisses. Max took a deep breath, sinking even deeper into your arms. “I think I love you both even more.”
summary: today's patrol leaves you tired. lucky for you, joel knows a few tricks to get the stress out of your system. or better said, how to fuck it out.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), big age gap (some of us wanna fuck this senior citizen), joel pleaser miller, massage turned sexual (is this a porno?), pwp (so it kinda is), oral (f. receiving), fingering, praise kink, lowkey degradation kink + brat taming, soft dom!joel, he cums in his pants (oh this old man), pussy pronouns, some sprinkles of fluff over the spice bc idk man i've been sinning all weekend and i need to see heaven
word count: 3,603 words
side note: is this out of character? idk it's fanfiction man let me live my fantasy LIKE i'm telling u.. my heart and pussy are fluttering after i finished this. not to toot my own cunt but new magnum opus ya'll.. this might sit in the mount rushmore of the dilf-docs library.. in the town's hall.. based on this. requests still open btw!
"Don't move, doll. Y' said you would behave. Now be a good girl and quit squirmin'"
How did you ended here, Joel holding your thighs firmly in place, in that lowly voice of his, partly rough with desire and the other as to keep it quiet, shy of the neighbors' presence as if he didn't have his nose deep buried in your cunt and your house was far, last on the road.
It started with patrol. The horses weren't suit for going through the cobblestones in the river nor that one sudden cliff your patrol partner had missed when mapping the area, which meant more trail on foot than high on a horse. By the end of the day, your muscles were sore and all you wanted to do was lay down.
You didn't tell Joel. Instead, waited until the next patrol to continue the hellish trail and finally map the area. Secured, but at what cost?
But Joel always knew, from the very moment he saw you cross the door maybe.
"How's my girl doin'?" he'd asked, placing a soft kiss to your temple, the rough of his stubble ticklish against your skin.
"I feel I could rest for a whole week" you sigh, feet aching inside your boots.
"Tell me 'bout it" like he didn't know. "You should rest, darlin'. C'mere"
"Joel-!" you yelp, feeling him pick up your body even if he does a little huff of effort due to that strain on his back. He no longer hides them, ashamed before of the sounds, a small embarrasing reminder of the age difference between you too, looking away as he picked you bridal style. But then you had wrapped your arms around his neck and your lips brushed them close to his ear, where wild greying curls kissed his skin. That's my strong man. His face went red and you never brought it up again. That was the first night you spent at his house; now, you lived here.
"Hush. Don't wanna ruin the surprise"
You quirk an eyebrow, hands hung around his neck. "It's not my birthday. What's with you?"
"Can't I do a nice thing for my girl?"
A lazy smile forms in your lips. "You may"
He lets out a chuckle. "Thank you for your permission"
"I'm kind"
"You're annoying"
You pout, toying with him as he starts to move. "You're annoying"
"Don't forget I'm holdin' you" he fake threatens with a smile.
He's joking: your boyfriend was a caretaker at heart. So he takes you upstairs before opening the bedroom, gently placing you on the bed.
He grunts, kneeling. "Boots. Up"
You giggle, raising your feet as he gets rid of the shoes, socks and then-
"Your idea is fucking me?" you ask with a laugh, but your cheeks turn a faint pink and your body starts to tingle with heat.
He looks up, choking.
"Jesus- language, doll. No- that's not" he sputters. "Unless that's what Aibileen taught me"
You laugh, unguarded. "You mean the old woman that lives on Copper Street? Right. I wonder what she taught you"
He pulls down your pants, the cold air hitting your bare legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
"You'll see"
"Can't wait. Because elders are so freaky and sexy"
"You sayin' I ain't sexy?" Joel narrows his eyes, mouth serious yet twitching at the corners. "Be careful, sugar. You're sleepin' with an elder too"
"She's seventy"
"That'll be me in a lil' bit over ten years"
He's still joking, yet you can hear the underlying currents of familiar insecurity creeping up his tone. Joel would never be with someone young like you. But this is the apocalypse, and things happen. Still, town got bored from time to time, and even if the talk had died down, your holding hands and the kisses you pressed on his lips when no you thought no one was watching gathered unwanted stares and whispers behind your backs. Which is why, no matter how much you assured him, that'll always be there.
Doesn't mean you get tired of reassuring how much you want him.
"And I'll still be here"
Joel gets up, knees creaking yet he doesn't groan this time.
"You sure 'bout that?" as his hand rests on his hip.
"I solemly swear I'll stay by your completely grey curls and wrinkles" you raise a hand. "Unless a clicker kills me"
He shakes his head, muttering under his breath. "You're impossible"
"But that won't happen" you hum, grinning cheekily. "Because my boyfriend is such a skilled survivor, strong and capable. He'll protect me"
"Tell your boyfriend if he can shut ya' up so I can do what I wanna do"
You pretend to zip your mouth, raising your hands in mock surrender.
"Lie down on your stomach"
The command sends a jolt through your body. Joel's voice always kept you on edge. There was something about that deep gravelly southern rumble that made your walls clench. He was a man used to commanding and leading, albeit the nature of his relationship with Tess. When you, not weak but not as strongminded as the latter woman squirmed into his life and showed him you trusted him to the point of blindly following anything he said, he made sure to harness that power his given authority by you gave him and took the lead.
You shuffle up to the bed, moving up until you reach the pillows to lay your head on your cheek. You close your eyes, biting your lip as a rush of adrenaline courses through your veins.
"You're fucking me?"
You hear him move around the bedroom, opening a drawer.
"Quit that" he breathes heavily. "I'm gonna..."
"Yes?" you open an eye to peek, expecting to see him pulling his worn jeans down.
But Joel's standing in front of you, a small bottle on his hand.
"I'm gon' give you a massage for God's sake. Dirty girl"
You choke on your spit, propping yourself up with your elbows. Your face flushes with shame. Or maybe the way he chastised you last.
"I-"
"Just shut up" his face flushes too, and you don't know if it's the situation what brings him to this or what he's about to do. "I wanted to make somethin' nice and here ya' go, makin' it 'bout sex. S'always 'bout fuckin' with you"
"N-no"
His hand comes to grab you, holding your face by the chin. His rough fingers press softly into your skin.
"Tryna give me a heart attack with that greedy pussy of yours..." he grumbles as his touch leaves you. He takes off your shirt slowly, making your heart beat like crazy.
You yelp when he flips your body all of the sudden, exposing your back.
"There. That better" you bite your lip as the bottle cap comes off. "Lavender. She... she said the smell's relaxin' or sum bullshit like that"
"You seriously learned to do massaging?" you ask, laughing with disbelief. You hear him cough up behind your back, imagining the heat creeping up his neck.
"Well, ya' had sum tough patrols. Wanted to do somethin' nice for those muscles of y'rs"
His hand reaches tentatively, as if he's scared of his own force.
"You're too good to me" you hum, burying your face on the pillow. "Don't worry. I trust you. I know you won't hurt me"
Joel takes a deep breath before pressing down firmly on the muscles of your bare back. You let out a barely contained moan, bitting your lip at the sensation of his hands moving up and down, calloused digits hot against your cold skin.
This should relax you. Not turn you on. He's being so considerate and here you are, only thinking on the feel of his hands touching you with strength but delicacy, as if a little too rough movement might hurt you.
"Hmm, that feels good. You really know how to use your hands, Joel" you speak, voice a low hush. "I can feel the stress leaving me already. You're a good student"
"And you're a real good client" he mumbles, smiling softly. "Now, stay still so I can take all the stress outta this pretty body. Any discomfort or pain you feelin' will be gone real soon"
"So good of you. Taking my pain away"
He smiles. "Always"
You feel the stress that started when you climbed the cliff starting to dissipate as Joel works up and down your back. Althought it hurts a bit as he zeroes on a knot, the relief that comes after is priceless. When he gets to the back of your neck, you bury your face on the pillow to avoid a sound out of his touch on the particularly sensitive area for you.
"Your touch..." your voice cracks. "It's magic"
"I know" he smiles, proudly. "And it only took two classes"
Joel is soon done with your back. He then moves to your calves, touring the road with light presses as he reaches your thighs.
You squirm.
"Easy, babygirl"
But it's hard when he keeps getting closer to the spot between your thighs. You can't help it and close them shut at just his light touch.
"Sorry"
"S'okay" he soothes.
Yet you can feel Joel hesitate too, a loud gulp from behind as his throat works up. You feel your breathing get slower.
"Am I being good?" you ask with a bit of a flirtatious tone.
Oh. You hide your disappointment as you follow his command.
"Good girl"
That suffices for now: the fuzzy feeling that courses through you at the praise.
Your breath hitches when his hands pin you by your wrists. Then, slowly, his hands crawl up until his fingers slide between yours.
"You've been grabbin' the horses handles and your weapon all day" Joel says as he turns and twists them. Then goes back to your wrist, flexing it. "Your hands must be real tired"
You nod through fluttering eyelashes, dumbly.
Joel chuckles at that. "You're doin' real good. Don't sleep on me"
He works a bit on your arms before moving to your shoulders. There's something almost sensual in the way his body hovers over your own as his fingers cross your collarbones, his touch lingering as he presses lightly. He reaches your neck, stopping.
You smile mischievously at him.
Joel just sighs. "No, we ain't trying that again"
"Tomorrow?"
"No. Never again, you dirty girl"
You huff. "Fine, now what"
Joel snorts. "Impatient girl. S'over"
Your gap your mouth open. "What?"
"I said it's over. I'm done"
Yet he makes no move, body still over yours. You can see the hairs of his stubble, more grey than brown now, all the sun spots in his skin, the permanent wrinkle of his frown present even when he's calm like now, and the rise and fall of his chest and how his softened middle brushes when he exhales.
"But, you haven't massaged here"
You know Joel's trying very hard not to stare right where you're pointing at.
Your breasts.
"Sweetheart..."
"They're so tense..." you mumble, feigning innocence. "Can't you help me there too?"
"Don't go lyin' on me, brat"
You can't help but push, feeling restless and pent-up. Fuck if you get sore muscles again.
"Use your hands, Joel. You're good with them. They're like... magic"
You see Joel take the oil bottle again.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. So good" You stiffle a moan as he clears his throat. Getting impatient, you grab him by the wrist, placing his hand on top of them. "Don't be shy" as his hand goes tense; still. You move it a bit, feeling his big size swallow your breast as a whole. Your nipples go rock hard at the touch. "I know you love them"
"You brat" he grits his teeth. "So fucken dirty. Had to make it 'bout fuckin' again, had you?"
"Can't help it" you arch your back into his touch when his oiled up digits starts moving. "I tried, I really did. But then I imagined your fingers..."
His voice turns into a deep rumble. "How did you imagine them? Use your mouth and tell me, sweet girl"
Joel keeps rolling your nipples between his fingers, cupping your breasts until the lavender is so strong, it gives you a faint headache and dizziness.
"Massaging" you spill in a breathy whisper, "kneading, playing with them..."
He leans his head down, words rolling off his tongue slowly, dripping and sticky like honey.
"And my mouth? Your pretty head ain't imagine that?"
You shake your head.
Joel chuckles. "Silly doll. Don't ya' worry, I know how to treat my girl just right"
You swallow harshly as his cock presses hard against the denim, throbbing at your breathy exhales. Joel then leans down and takes the hardened bud between his mouth, teeth grazing slightly before his tongue starts tracing slow circles around it, the wet feel of his saliva and the laps around the nub making you arch your back again.
"Good girl. Showin' me how you like it" he exhales softly, almost with reverence even if his honey eyes darken. "Feelin' better?"
You nod, but he clicks his tongue.
"Words, baby. Tell me, is it helpin'?"
"V-very" you choke out. "J-Joel"
"Good girl" he praises. "Now, tell me. Where else does it hurt?"
Your hand manages to point the spot between your legs that had been damp since the first touch against your back. Joel can feel himself salivate and harden more at the damp spot on your underwear.
"Oh, babydoll. Look at ya'. All wet since the beginnin', haven't ya´?" he chuckles darkly as one of his hands massages the inner space of your thighs he had ignored before, slowly spreading your legs. "Don't worry, sugar. I won't punish ya' for bein' greedy and dirty, my naughty girl. I said I was gonna help, didn't I?"
You see him push himself down until his breath ghosts over the damp spot of your underwear. He looks at you as he takes them off slowly, hooking his thick fingers on the waistband as he tugs them down.
"So ya' better behave and lemme help ya'" he orders while drumming on your thigh. "That right?"
You nod again, completely drunk on your need.
"Good, doll. That's my girl"
Joel smiles darkly before he leans down, giving you a last look before his face dissappears between your thighs.
"Then watch"
His facial hair tickles against your wet cunt, and Joel growls at the sight of your sticky walls.
"Lookin' real good darlin'. She's ready for me, all wet" he mumbles, hot air making you clench. "Gon' treat her good jus' like she likes"
Finally, his mouth closes around you, mustache making you arch your back. With one long, slow stroke, you fall apart, a breathless moan slipping past your lips at the first contact, incredibly wanted by your expecting fluttering cunt.
Your head tilts again the pillows, trying to drown the sound. Joel's rough grab on your hip startles you.
"No. Lemme see you" he commands, his voice sending vibrations through your core. You force yourself to pull away from the pillows. "Atta girl"
He hums against you, pleased, his grip tighter as he licks again your folds, slow and teasing. "Fuckin' sweet" as his saliva traces a sleazy trail. You tremble. "And so sensitive..."
Joel's hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue moves with slow, deliberate strokes. Your body squirms under Joel's mouth minstrations, thighs threatening to close around his head, yet his strong hands keep you spread wide.
"Don't move, doll. Y' said you would behave. Now be a good girl and quit squirmin'"
He laps at you with more purpose, tongue flickering over your clit with teasing stripes.
He laps a little more, testing, before sucking gently, making you arch off the bed.
"Joel" you whine his name, voice breathless, almost pleading. Your hands grab out to tug his hair, tightening around his messy hair as you feel it start to dampen around the nape of his neck and his ears.
He raises his head at that. His pupils are blown wide and traces of you are all over his mouth, coating his lips and stubble. He looks, if anything, so ridiculously handsome.
"Kiss me, Joel" you plead, a light tremble in your voice.
"Just 'cause you asked nicely" he reaches your mouth with a grunt. "Can say no to my sweet girl"
He tastes like you, mouth sucking on your bottom lip lightly. He pushes himself off only when your lips are swollen and he needs air. Then, Joel smirks, proud, before diving back down as his lips kiss your core, making you whine. He brushes the sensitive skin again, body burning with desire.
This time, Joel moves with more urgency, tongue drawing tight circles, slow but deliberate, teasing yet firm, all deep strokes that make your breath stop.
A moan tears from your lips as your hips buck against his mouth and Joel groans, enjoying how responsive you are and always have been.
He flicks his tongue over your clit again, eating you like a man starved each time he sucks, harder, sending tingles up your squelching cunt.
"Well, I was wrong-" you whimper. "Elders are freaky"
Your head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure starts to build, a tight knot forming in your stomach.
He pulls back just enough to murmur. "And you gon' learn to respect them"
You know you're about to come. Joel does too, trying real hard not to bust inside his pants. But your sounds are so needy and sweet as you start to fall apart, and you taste so delicious...
The heat inside you becomes unbereable. Like a fire: burning, hot and consuming. Your skin feels ablaze as you blabber things that sound like a plea for his name, and if this calling was a prayer, he'd built a religion around your body teetering on the edge.
So Joel pushes you closer to your climax, mouth working with the precision of someone who knows you therefore loves you, grip on your thighs so tight to keep you on place, it might leave bruises on your trembling body.
"Come, baby. I wanna see her come undone for me" he commands in a low rasp against your cunt. "Let me have a taste of ya'"
You shatter with a cry past your lips and a final lick of his.
Pleasure crashes over you like the current of the river you trailed through, washing over the stress from earlier and any other thing you've been holding on to. Because now, your mind is filled with Joel: Joel, your sweet boyfriend who learn massaging to help you. Joel, who ate you out because you asked. Joel, who made you fall apart with his mouth like it's a life and death matter. Your back arches and you call his name again.
"I'm here" you hear him murmur, tight grip now turned soft as his thumb brushes over your hips. You feel him groan, licking your juices as if that's the only thing that'll remove this undying thrist for you, letting you ride it out while he keeps drinking everything you give to him.
Joel finally pulls back with a grunt, his knees almost giving up as he stands up. You see the stain on his pants, and while other times you would have teased him, you don't have the heart too. Instead, all you do is extend a lazy hand as he crawls over to you. He sighs with relief, the blush in his neck and flushed face still there nevertheless while he avoids your gaze.
"How was I?" you ask while panting, trying to even your breath.
Joel's eyes crinkle, crow's feet on display, orbs going from dark to that warm deep brown woods you often got lost in; safe. Secluded from the rest of the world, in a place where it was just you and him, wrapping you with his musk and big strong arms.
Like right now, as he cages you, pressing your limp body against his.
"Good" he murmurs finally, kissing your jaw. Pulls you in closer, hand tangled on your hair. "S' good to me. Always"
"Always" you repeat, akin to a promise. Then, a beat. "Because I'm yours" you utter, so simple yet so sure, making his belly flutter and heart beat steady. Like that could be the answer to all.
Your hind finds his, holding tightly. His free hand craddles your face, afraid you'll vanish as if you were a fragment of his imagination. Too good to be true.
"My sweet girl" he coos, pulling you even closer. Joel can't help but remember the first night he had you like this, holding you like a thing so sacred he'd go to hell and back again to find it. A piece to make his broken heart beat again. A smell he now recognized as yours. Hands that brought him back if he ever lost his way.
Home.
When Joel first saw you, he never thought he'd had you; a second chance. Call it fate, or call it karma: the possibility of having his heart broken again. Yet he knows, when he looks at your droopy eyelids and soft breathing, his heart is safe with you.
"Next time" you mumble lazily, snuggling closer, "I'll do something for you"
Joel groans when your leg brushes against his strained dick with your movement.
summary: what would happen if carlos decides to have you take it easy in his car in broad daylight?
warnings: smut. masturbation. oral sex. public sex. soft at first, rough throughout. very short one-shot.
author's note: i'm a spanish-speaking writer. if you see any mistakes, i'd be happy for you to respectfully correct me. i'm always inspired, but i struggle with writing one-shots. i'm sorry if you don't enjoy this one, which is a bit short, at almost 900/1.5k words.
You had made it clear to Carlos that you wouldn't have sex in public since the last time, but being on your period plus ovulation due to the double heating of hormones, made you contradict yourself this time.
You were in ruins. You looked pathetic when your eyes met his, who was driving and refused to touch you or even massage your damn breasts. He enjoyed watching you squirm, trying not to give in to your lust like a horny woman on her period.
And yet, you loved that he refused.
Your body burned just watching his smile grow bigger and bigger with each passing second. Carlos knows what tickles your fancy, and he always does it on purpose.
"Carlos... Please..." You groaned at his provocation. He didn't look at you, but his hands tightened on the steering wheel at your pleading sounds. At that pleading, begging voice. "I know I said we wouldn't do anything in public... But the heat is killing me, please."
"No." Carlos cut you off, making you feel even more pathetic.
Your hands traveled to his left thigh, you squeezed, claimed and begged like a crumb in search of its crumbs, but he didn't even see you, he just smiled wider.
"Please, Carlos," you murmured as your right hand caressed the sleeping bulge beneath his pants. "At least let me suck you off, just for today."
"That won't cool you down," Carlos whispered, finally looking at you. "But if it makes you feel better to suck me off and know this fat cock is all yours, I won't turn down such an offer."
Your eyes shone with such hope that you didn't hesitate to wait for his "yes." You began to undo his belt and button his jeans to unzip them. You were able to pull down his boxers as well, freeing his dormant cock, which was twitching slightly from the direct touch of your hand against sensitive skin.
With your hand, you moved up and down. You knew Carlos could get hard within five minutes, so watching his limp cock go from stiff to erect and hard... God, that turned you on so much that you couldn't help but bite your lip in such a slutty way.
Carlos snorted, but more than annoyed, he seemed excited by the movements of your hand as he gripped the steering wheel. He was grateful to be stuck in such awful traffic, because otherwise, he wouldn't know how to drive with a certain someone giving him incredibly great pleasure.
"Start sucking it or I'll do it myself," Carlos muttered.
You smiled. Your tongue darted out of your mouth to run circles around the tip of his cock, eliciting hoarse moans of pleasure and lust from him. Your hand helped caress his balls, massaging them a little. You enjoyed him so much that sometimes you wondered how you had ended up with him in the first place. For God's sake, it was so sexy and hot.
You decided to lower your head to feel half of his cock in your mouth, licking what you could and sucking what was left until you felt the tip in your throat. Yes, you were making white background all the way to the base of his member, and he only twitched a little to hold your hair tightly, as if he wanted to hold on to something in particular.
"Fuck, keep that up..." Carlos whispered, throwing his head back a little. "You're a good girl, mi amor."
You gasped a little and pulled out of your mouth to breathe better. You choked back some saliva and spat it out to jerk him off as you slipped it back into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. Your eyes looked down at him, and it made him tense, but it was a comfortably arousing tension coming from your gaze, which seemed to be one of those looks a bitch gave him.
Carlos grabbed all your hair and used it as a control to sink you further onto his cock. His hips were contracted, but they began to move, fucking your mouth as hard as he could. You didn't know why he was doing it so fast, but you moaned. In fact, you enjoyed how the tip of his cock hit the cavity of your throat in a way that made you cough and drool.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck... You're taking me so well, I'm not stopping..." Carlos groans to look you in the eyes. He noticed your tears and smirked, increasing his movements to make your mouth drool. Your lips were shiny with the drool oozing out. "Look at you. I love it when you drool like that... It makes you look like a complete slut who enjoys getting a good cock deep in your throat."
Carlos looks up, watching the traffic and the policeman who, in the distance, was approaching the car window to give a warning. Of course, that's why the Spaniard was fucking your mouth so fast, because there was a third person about to see what they were doing, about to interrupt the best blowjob and oral sex in history.
You couldn't form a word, only felt the tears stain your cheeks and cloud your eyes. Good Lord, you loved seeing him like this, dominating your mouth and throat in his way, so you couldn't deny that despite your period, you were getting incredibly wet.
Now you could tell he was tense, biting his lip and fucking your mouth with his cock like a fucking wild animal. All you could do was wait for the jet of his cum to hit your throat so you could swallow it with all your might.
You blew air out of your nose, gasping for air, when you heard his loud, guttural moan and the sinful liquid in your throat. You hated swallowing the semen, but being Carlos, you didn't complain because it tasted delicious.
When he pulled his cock out of your mouth, before swallowing, you felt another jet hit your face, bathing you without thinking. Looking up, you realized the reason for all this, and decided to compose yourself quickly, wiping your face with anything and swallowing the viscous, sticky liquid to look at Carlos, who smiled as he tucked his now-numb cock back into his boxers.
You were never going to forget this moment.
Because this was the first time Carlos showed you a new side: fucking your mouth like a fucking savage.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
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