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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 2 months

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Vesuvia Weekly: What it's like to hold the M6

~ my submission for this week's prompt - have some sappy headcanon drabble ^.^ ~

Julian

The sounds of leather folding and bending and creaking, of a pent up sigh, of a noble, anxious, too-big-for-its-own-good heartbeat fluttering against those thin, bird-like ribs

The smell of - yes, more leather - with a slight hint of sweat and the faded scent of the crushed herbs used to stuff doctor's masks

The feel of a well-worn, weather tested, oversized coat falling around both your frames, a cold set of bony fingers tangling into your hair through protective gloves

The sight of folded black cloth and slightly dulled metal buttons, a pale neck cradling your forehead, auburn stubble shivering over a bobbing adam's apple

The bitter taste of sea-salty lips, self-sacrifice, and coffee

Asra

The sound of an airy chuckle, a curious whisper, a deep, relaxed sigh, a heartbeat that touches your own with every gentle thump

The smell of smoking incense, sparkling spices, and syrupy vanilla, lurking beneath the petrichor of sunny spring rains on the dust of a far-off highway

The feel of a soft shawl on your cheek, sturdy linen body-warmed and slightly rough under your arms, heavy, heated hands running soothing pathways along your spine, cloud soft curls on your ears, a deceptively slight frame

The sight of golden metal and silvery blue stone on smooth skin, the barely-there rise and fall of a body slowly relaxing into yours

The taste of smoky tea, home, and desperate dedication

Nadia

The sound of rustling silks, the quiet clink of bracelets and rings, the hush of long, thick hair falling over chiffon-clad shoulders, a contented, throaty hum, a lofty heartbeat

The smell of jasmine, rose, pepper, and amber, of warm silk and chilled white wine, of flower gardens and powdery cosmetics

The feel of a heavy curtain of hair against your face, body warmth passing quickly through thin, gauzy sleeves wrinkling under your movements, of strong fingers tilting your chin into her collarbone

The sight of glinting gemstones and finely crafted metal, intricate embroidery stitches swirling across lustrous fabric, scalloped hemlines along sculpted shoulders

The taste of spiced fish, wine, and plush, commanding adoration

Muriel

The sound of heavy, rough cloth slowly dragging across itself, breaths hitching deep and slow, a grumble quiet and low enough to shake the earth, a nervous, powerful heartbeat

The smell of myrrh hanging around you like a cloud, of warm fur and chilly forest air, of falling leaves and running water and smoke

The feel of muscle and scruff, of radiating body heat, of massive, calloused palms alternating between gently splaying over your shoulders like blanketing weights and hovering cautiously around your waist in fluttering, feather like touches

The sight of thick, dark hair falling in choppy lengths over stubble and scar tissue, of thick green cloth over sinew

The taste of grilled forage and mead, of healing and steadfastness

Portia

The sound of an excited giggle, springing footsteps and jingling keys, a happy gasp and unstoppable heartbeat, a mischievous secret getting laughed into your ear

The smell of air-drying laundry and soap, hair oil and cocoa butter, fresh bread and sizzling butter and caramelizing berries

The feel of strong forearms, small, calloused hands, the push of energetic bouncing against your shoulder, of hair flying around your face, the plush squish of a no-holds-barred bear hug

The sight of fiery curls spilling over clean, pressed cotton, freckles speckling creamy skin, the occasional grey and white cat hair clinging to black ribbon, the dusk of a happy blush

The taste of yeasty bread, and the comforts of adventure

Lucio

The sounds of nearby dogs panting, a cutlass clanking in its sheath, the mechanical whir and musical hum of an alchemical arm, a confident, snorting chuckle and a devoted heartbeat

The smell of fresh sweat, warm metal, cinnamon alcohol in a journeyman's flask, hair gel and worn cologne

The feel of a padded, quilted vest, the quick rise and fall of an active chest, the slight tilt of a shoulder forever sloped in favor of a heavy arm, the sinewed grip of a warrior's touchstarved fingers and the cool, metallic touch of a careful clawed hand

The sight of sharp collarbones and glinting curved gold, fine flaxen hair at the nape of a snowy neck, crimson cloth and leather straps

The taste of grilled meat, traveler's wine, and new beginnings

#vesuvia weekly #hold the LI #ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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walnuthillfarm · 4 months

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Complete List of Twelve Days of Christmas CC Gifts!

In case you haven't been keeping up with our advent-style Christmas event on the website, we've compiled a list of all the mods currently available to download! Also included are the day numbers so you can easily find what you're after. ♡

I will be posting some of the gifts available individually in the next few days as some of them will become permanent downloads. All other gifts will leave the website on December 26th, so grab them while you can!

Our TOU has been updated - because these are gifts and not official releases, please do not use them for your own work (recolors, edits, etc.)

View all of the mods here!

Create A Sim

Christmas-Themed Tack: — ７ Santa Exercise Blanket (includes tartan swatches which suit the colder times of year and not just Christmas! Recolor of Objuct's exercise sheet) — ４ Santa Saddle Pad — ４ Elf Saddle Pad (Western) — ３ Santa Headcollar — ７ Christmas Headcollar — ９ Christmas Ear Bonnet — ９ Christmas Brushing Boots (recolor of SchrodCat's brushing boots) — ４ Christmas Leg Wraps — ９ Christmas Bell Boots (recolor of SchrodCat's bell boots) Other Christmas Related Items: — １ Santa Hat (for your horse!) — ２ Christmas Mane Ribbons — ２ Rudolph Nose (fitted to your bridle) Generic Tack: — １０ Foal Rugs (yay! These are conversions of Objuct's rug and my recolor) — １１ Icelandic Saddle Pad (fits SchrodCat's Icelandic saddle) — ９ Full-Body Slinky — ９ Slinky Hood — １２ Cribbing Collar — ３ Basic Ear Bonnet Other: — ８ Multicolor Long & Longest Straight Tail (116 swatches each, includes pinto variations, two-tone chestnut tails, flaxen chestnut tails, silver black/bay tails, black to brown tails, frosted tails, and more! Edit of Objuct's tails) — １０ Generic Coat Clip Thicknesses 2 (new clips for your horse!) — １１ Auction Number Stickers — ８ Snow-verlay (tack item that makes it look like your horse is covered in snow!) — １２ Long Scalloped Braided Mane (edit of SchrodCat's Scalloped Braided Mane) — １２ Short Lattice Braid Mane (edit of SchrodCat's Lattice Braid Mane)

Build & Buy

— １２ Paddock Fencing Override (makes EA's Horse Ranch Paddock Fencing a little bit less chunky) — １２ Paddock Fence (Objects) (the above fence made placeable) — １２ Tall Paddock Fence (Objects) (an edit of the above fence, also made placeable) — ５ Tack Room Locker — ６ Hanging Horse Bits (edits of SchrodCat's bridles, made placeable for your tack room) — ６ Christmas Jump Pole (ground pole but can be raised) — ６ Equine Stocking (stockings for your horses, recolor of Severinka's Country Christmas Socks) — ５ Christmas Wish List (for your sims/horses, Simlish and non-Simlish included) — ５ Winter Horse Painting

Poses

— １ Picture Day Pt. 1 (conformation poses for LOADS of breeds) — ２ Picture Day Pt. 2 (more but including foals) — ７ Those Pesky Flies (itchy horses in the Summer) — ８ Snow Day (horses playing in the snow) — １１ Did Someone Say Food? (horses eating/grazing) — １２ Bad Habits (horses cribbing, pawing, stall walking, head shaking)

Below is the link to our website page where you can download everything!

Most importantly.. Thank you all for your support over this period! We're so glad everyone's enjoyed our daily gifts and we can't wait to do it all again next year. ♡

#sims 4 horses #ts4 #ts4 horse cc #ts4 horse ranch #sims 4 #ts4 horses #ts4cc #s4cc #the sims 4 horse ranch #sims 4 cc #sims 4 horse cc #the sims 4 horse cc #simblr #ts4 equine #ts4 equesrian #horse #horses #equine #equestrian

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pink-dino · 5 months

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I wore my new "Ribbon Scallop" JSK from Meta yesterday for a mini meet with the Berlin comm. We went to Altstadtcafé Cöpenick and it was a super comfortable vintage style location!

JSK: Metamorphose Temps De Fille

Cutsew: Baby The Stars Shine Bright

Cardigan: H&M

Shoes: Bodyline

Beret: Elleni the Label

Pins: Paläa & Myuna Art

Everything else: Offbrand

#eglcommunity #eglfashion #lolitafashion #jfashion #sweetlolita #lolita fashion #sweet lolita

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jrwibang · 3 months

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Tough, Tried, and True Blue by @petersqlointrocks

Dear Lunadeyis, I’ve got… a problem. This (kinda hot?) Spider-Pirate-Lady stole my heart. I don’t mean that in the typical Chip sense though. This time, it’s literal. Anyway, she turned me into bones, Spooky, scary, skeleton style. My best friend, Gillion, he’s a Paladin of yours, and he’s really upset about all of this. I’m also sad about all this, but Gill… he’s your Chosen One, or whatever. Cheer him up, please? Maybe an easy quest to slay a small, evil dragon to save a very morally perfect princess? Well, if you can help or not, send good vibes his way. He’s not even saying “What the scallop!” anymore. Whatever happens, I pray to you, that we can find a way to just roll with it. I actually believe in only One True God, Chip OR Chip and Gillion embark on a dungeon crawl in the world's strangest cave. Featuring Dakota Cole, Timothy Rand, and THREE Original Characters. Also contains Pretzel, puns, evil hallways of hell and gayness, goobleck cameo, and excessive amounts of pink ribbons. The summary is the only thing in first person btw :)

Art by @candledotpng and @luna-spacedoodles

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cressida-jayoungr · 8 months

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One Dress a Day Challenge

August: Fantasy & Sci-Fi

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time / Gemma Arterton as Princess Tamina

What really makes this costume for me is the filmy cloak. It looks simple at first glance, but on closer inspection, you can see that it's covered with delicate embroidery in pale gold. There are floral-looking roundels all around the border, and the hood has small flower and vine designs as well, in addition to a scalloped edge. The dress underneath is fairly basic, but it reinforces the cream and gold color scheme.

I also think they way they've done her hair is very pretty, with the pearls and silver ribbon braided into it.

#prince of persia: the sands of time #fantasy costumes #gemma arterton #one dress a day challenge #one dress a week challenge #prince of persia movie #movie costumes #2010 movies #2010 films #princess tamina #white dresses #white dress #penny rose #prince of persia #all the embroidery #wonderful capes

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jrwi-fic-recs · 1 month

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Tough, Tried, and True Blue

by @petersqlointrocks

Dear Lunadeyis,

I’ve got… a problem. This (kinda hot?) Spider-Pirate-Lady stole my heart. I don’t mean that in the typical Chip sense though. This time, it’s literal. Anyway, she turned me into bones, Spooky, scary, skeleton style. My best friend, Gillion, he’s a Paladin of yours, and he’s really upset about all of this. I’m also sad about all this, but Gill… he’s your Chosen One, or whatever. Cheer him up, please? Maybe an easy quest to slay a small, evil dragon to save a very morally perfect princess?

Well, if you can help or not, send good vibes his way. He’s not even saying “What the scallop!” anymore.

Whatever happens, I pray to you, that we can find a way to just roll with it.

I actually believe in only One True God, Chip

Chip and Gillion embark on a dungeon crawl in the world's strangest cave. Featuring Dakota Cole, Timothy Rand, and THREE Original Characters. Also contains Pretzel, puns, evil hallways of hell and gayness, goobleck cameo, and excessive amounts of pink ribbons.

The summary is the only thing in first person btw :)

Word Count: 23,774

Status: Not Complete (7/10)

Submitted by anon

#riptide #multi chapter #hurt/comfort #fnc #gillion x chip #angst #fluff #gillion tidestrider #chip jrwi #jay ferin #ensa jrwi #dakoka cole #timothy rand #jrwi #jrwi fanfiction

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sleepycricket · 2 years

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i’m sorry i can’t be him T^T

[Image Description: A full-body drawing of Adrien Agreste and Cat Noir from the Miraculous Ladybug TV show. Adrien stands on the left, wearing a long white gown with short puff sleeves. There are gold scallop details around the sleeves and skirt hem, and there is blue ribbon along the sleeve cuffs and tied around his waist in a bow. He wears white elbow-length gloves and lifts the skirt slightly to reveal white flats on his feet. Cat Noir stands on the right, wearing a knee-length black dress with a high swan-necked collar, tank top sleeves, and a full skirt. A slit runs up the skirt, set slightly off-centre, revealing layers of black petticoats. A grey piece of fabric with a pointed scallop pattern lines the hem, and three belts cinch the waist. He wears thigh-high black boots with belt buckle details, and wears elbow-length black gloves. He holds his silver staff, which protrudes slightly toward the viewer. End Description.]

#miraculous ladybug #cat noir #chat noir #adrien agreste #crickarts

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chic-a-gigot · 2 months

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La Mode nationale, no. 7, 16 février 1895, Paris. No. 7. — Jupon de dessous, brodé. No. 8. — Jupon en soie, brodé. No. 9. — Saut de lit. Bibliothèque nationale de France

No. 7. — Jupon de dessous, brodé. Ce jupon est en soie rose, formant entre-deux sur la longueur, avec motifs brodés au passé en soie de teinte jaune deux tons. Le ruban est en satin vert d'eau. L'entre-deux de dentelle noire est surmonté de deux volants à dents; ces volants sont brodés de la même façon que les entre-deux, les bords sont festonnés en soie jaune-maïs.

No. 7. — Underskirt, embroidered. This petticoat is in pink silk, forming a gap along the length, with embroidered patterns on the past in two-tone yellow silk. The ribbon is sea green satin. The black lace insert is topped with two toothed ruffles; these ruffles are embroidered in the same way as the in-betweens, the edges are scalloped in corn-yellow silk.

—

No. 8. — Jupon en soie, brodé. Ce modèle est en soie rayée, il est garni d'un entre-deux avec deux plissés et un grand volant brodé.

L'entre-deux est en dentelle noire, avec jours et broderies en soie jaune.

Le grand volant est brodé au plumetis.

Les feuillages et les fleurs sont faits en relief avec jours.

Le bord est orné d'un ornement brodé en relief avec picots rapportés.

No. 8. — Silk petticoat, embroidered. This model is in striped silk, it is trimmed with an insert with two pleats and a large embroidered ruffle.

The insert is in black lace, with yellow silk openings and embroidery.

The large ruffle is embroidered with plumetis.

The foliage and flowers are made in relief with openings.

The edge is decorated with an embroidered ornament in relief with added picots.

—

No. 9. — Saut de lit, en surah rose. Le devant est croisé sous une haute dentelle coquillée, formant col derrière; une tête froncée forme la ceinture; volant de dentelle dans le bas, avec tête de surah. Manche demi-longue, en surah, ornée d'un volant de dentelle et nœud de satin crème.

No. 9. — Housecoat, in pink surah. The front is crossed under a high shell lace, forming a collar behind; a gathered head forms the belt; lace flounce at the bottom, with surah head. Half-long sleeve, in surah, decorated with a lace ruffle and cream satin bow.

#La Mode nationale #19th century #1890s #1895 #on this day #February 16 #periodical #fashion #fashion plate #description #bibliothèque nationale de france #dress #petticoat #housecoat #robe #gigot #collar

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scorchieart · 11 months

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Falling Ahead - Part 2

Do you ever think Chevalier was just as shy around Yves as Yves was around him? Probably not, but now you're thinking it...

Ages: Yves (4), Clavis (7) - ft. Chevalier

previous part ☆ Masterlist ☆ next part

“Clavis?”

“...And a cinnamon stick, because it smells nice. And a little pickle juice to give it a kick…”

“Clavis…”

“...And a pinch of turmeric for a pop of color. And lots and lots and lots of sugar—”

“Clavis!”

Clavis teetered on the stool, but quickly regained his balance by grabbing the edge of the counter. “What? More sugar?”

Pungent fumes wafted around the kitchen, and Yves peered into the frothing mixing bowl through scrunched up eyes. “Clavis, it looks yucky.”

“That’s because we didn’t bake it yet. You have to bake the batter before it becomes a yummy cake, understand?” Clavis explained, gently patting his brother’s head. Dusty remains of yellow turmeric and white sugar sprinkled over Yves, making the boy sneeze with gusto.

“Goodness! Are you getting cold, Yves? Don’t worry, we’ll light the oven soon. Then we can sit by it and plan the party while we wait for your cake to finish.” Clavis grabbed a wooden spoon and began mixing the dubious ingredients, turning the bowl a more sinister foaming puce with each pass. Yves gulped and covered his mouth and nose.

“No, thank you,” he whispered feebly.

“Nonsense, you’re shaking worse than autumn leaves! Talking will make you forget about the cold, so let’s start with the guest list.” Clavis reached for a jar of crushed scallops and added it to the bowl as he spoke. “Now, who do you want to invite to your birthday party?”

Yves slightly lifted the hand from his mouth. “My brothers.”

“All of them?” asked Clavis. Yves nodded.

“I don’t think there will be enough cake for everyone,” said Clavis, subtly scooping out spoonfuls of batter and dropping them over the far end of the counter.

“They can have my slice,” Yves offered.

“No no no. The birthday boy has to have birthday cake. That’s the rule,” said Clavis.

“Can I have a different present, please?” Yves asked, turning away from the bowl.

“Silly Yves. This isn’t your present. Presents have to be a surprise, understand? And my real present to you will make you scream with so much joy you’ll say—”

“Aaaah!”

Yves leapt off the stool and buried his face into Clavis’s shirtfront. Clavis grabbed the counter again to steady himself and looked around the kitchen for what could have spooked Yves. But he didn’t have to search for long.

Standing in the dimly lit doorway was Chevalier, a stoic look on his face and a thick leather-bound book in his arms.

“Chevalier, you meanie! You’re scaring my precious little brother!” Clavis whipped the spoon out of the bowl and brandished it like a sword, but Chevalier paid no attention to the impromptu weapon nor the putrid lumps it dripped on the floor as he approached the counter and extended his arms. The book in his hands was sharp and glimmering, a delectable drawing of sweet cakes and pastries printed on its cover, all smartly tied with a soft pink ribbon bow.

Yves whimpered and slowly poked his face out to look at Chevalier. Too slowly for Clavis to notice.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said you weren’t invited here!” Clavis shouted, waving the spoon threateningly in the air. Chevalier calmly tilted his head to avoid the “attacks”, but Clavis’s frenzied movements flung globs of batter in all directions. They hit walls, cabinets, pots and pans and plates, and eventually the book with an incredible SPLAT!

It all happened in an instant. Clavis paled. Chevalier darkened. Yves screamed and ran, slipping on the batter Clavis scooped earlier and knocking into the counter. The bags of turmeric and sugar fell over the edge and burst on Yves, leaving him a teeny, weepy, sneezy mess.

Color returned to Clavis’s cheeks as quickly as it left. “No no Yves, please don’t cry! It’s all Chevalier’s fault! I told you he shouldn’t come to the party!”

Chevalier set the book down on a clean section of the counter and stepped up on the stool. Clavis blanched once again.

“I mean, ahahaha! It worked! Just according to plan!” Clavis yelled, shakily brandishing the spoon again. “Happy birthday! Now weren’t you surprised by that, Yves? It was a fun little show, wasn’t it? Your big brother won the battle and you’re crying tears of joy, right? Right?”

Yves sobbed harder. Chevalier neatly pulled back his shirtsleeve and seized Clavis by the back of the head.

“I mean! I mean! Lookatallthoseingredientsyougatheredwecanmakeabizillionmorecakesandinviteabizillionmorepeopletoyourpartyisn’tthatjustwonder— NO NO NOOOOOO—!”

Chevalier dunked Clavis’s face into the mixing bowl. It is said that on that day, young prince Yves’s laughter could be heard as far as the throne room on the opposite side of the castle.

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #yves kloss #clavis lelouch #chevalier michel #ikepri yves #ikepri clavis #ikepri chevalier #scorchie writes #falling ahead series

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ceruleanwind · 20 days

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Giftwrapped

4433 | Explicit | 3.7k | Read on AO3

He does like them, just a little, as much as it embarrasses him to admit it to himself. He studies his reflection in the mirror, his gaze tracing where the thin strappy waist wraps around his hip and connects the two tiny pieces of fabric. The panties do an extremely poor job of covering him—the tip of his cock seems to slip out into the cool air no matter how Max arranges himself—but he somewhat likes it, likes feeling so exposed, like he’s nothing but a meal. Or: Lewis gifts Max an article of clothing he's never dared to try on before. Max likes it more than he probably should.

Max doesn’t often receive gifts, if he’s honest. Even on special occasions growing up, like Christmas or his birthday, Max would be lucky to receive just one gift from his family, usually something practical and not at all fun.

He’s more than surprised, then, when he comes back to his driver’s room after a rather unexciting round of free practice to find a gift waiting for him on the table—a white box made of thin cardboard, tastefully wrapped in a thick purple ribbon. Max’s eyebrows furrow in confusion; he peers outside the door of his driver’s room, checking for anyone who might know who delivered the gift, but ultimately he decides to find out for himself.

The ribbon comes undone neatly when Max tugs at one of the ends of the bow. He sets the ribbon aside and reaches to lift the lid of the box, morbidly curious to see what’s inside.

Max’s breath promptly catches in his throat.

Inside the box, on a nest of white tissue paper, rests a gorgeous pair of silk panties; they’re a deep rich royal purple, all thin straps and silver detailing, trimmed with delicate scalloped lace at the edges. On top of them, near the edge of the box, lies a folded piece of paper—a note, presumably. Max picks up the note, hands nearly shaking with it.

Put these on, and then you know where to go tonight.

The worst part is, Max does know where to go. He and Lewis have been messing around for the greater part of the 2016 season; Max doesn’t exactly know when it happened—he knew he’d always been shy and awkward around Lewis—but suddenly Lewis had started flirting back, his touches lingering, and to make a long story short Max has ended up in his bed several times this season already. Sue him—he’s eighteen, naïve, and desperate to please; he can’t exactly resist when the driver he’s looked up to for years starts returning his advances.

He sets the note aside and glances around before lifting the panties out of the box, his face flushing as he realises what he’s about to do. The set really is nice, Max thinks. They’re obviously made out of real silk, beautiful and soft to the touch, and the lace doesn’t feel itchy at all. Max recalls Lewis saying that his favourite colour was purple, and his face flushes an even deeper red when he pieces together that he’ll be wearing Lewis’ colour, practically giftwrapped in it just for him. Max presses one hand to his cheek, feeling feverish. He’s really about to do this, isn’t he? Dress in women’s underwear just because Lewis told him to?

Max puts the panties down and lays a hand over the zipper of his race suit, contemplating it, before he tugs the zipper down with sudden impatience. He has half a mind to go over and lock the door of his room before sliding the rest of the race suit off of him, then moving on to his fireproofs. “Fuck,” he mutters when he’s standing just in his boxers, the white fireproofs pooling at his ankles. He knows he can back out if he doesn’t want to wear them, but . . . if Lewis asks, Max is a weak, weak man. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, Max sighs and tugs those down too.

Wincing at the cold air against his exposed skin, Max lifts up the panties again and holds them in his hands for a moment. He can just try them on, right? He doesn’t have to keep wearing them if he hates it. Lewis would understand. Slowly, Max steps into the panties and slides them up along his legs before settling them into position. The thin front piece barely covers his cock, the fabric straining with it, and the back piece slips between his cheeks as soon as he shifts to get a better look at himself.

A knock on the door makes Max jump out of his skin, hastily bringing a hand to his front to cover himself.

“Max! Hurry up, your ride’s about to leave,” one of the PR people shouts through the door.

“Okay,” Max says back, and his voice comes out a lot wobblier than he expected. He glances back in the mirror and his face flushes at the sight he’s faced with before he turns away, reaching for the folded casual clothes on the table to change into.

Lingerie like this, as it turns out, is rather uncomfortable.

Max hardly gets ten steps out the door of his driver’s room before he’s acutely aware of how poorly the panties cover his cock and how the thin fabric of the back piece rests between his cheeks. His face burns with just how naughty this feels—he’s a Formula One driver, for fuck’s sake, secretly wearing a skimpy women’s thong underneath perfectly presentable casual clothes. He doesn’t even want to think about what his dad would say if he found out, but the thought of Lewis sizing him up later tonight and telling him how nice he looks in those panties trumps all worry Max has in his head.

He shifts in discomfort the whole car ride back to his hotel, tapping at his phone to reply to his friends, when a particularly interesting message pops up at the top of his screen.

L: get my gift?

Max’s face immediately heats up. Oh, did he. He can’t wait for Lewis to see him in them.

M: Yeah M: Thank you

L: ofc. i’m in room 1016

He can’t help the way his stomach twists at the prospect of Lewis seeing him like this—dressed so normally on the outside but sporting something downright slutty underneath his jeans. It’s never been like him to do anything like this, really; Max has always been a bit of a goody-two-shoes—never partying, never going out late at night, never even dating or sleeping around, but when Lewis asks him to do that sort of thing Max is suddenly pliant and very much susceptible to suggestion.

Max’s breath nearly stops once he’s standing in front of Lewis’ hotel room door, his hand lifted to knock. He can’t go back after this—but would he want to, anyway? Max quite likes how he looks in Lewis’ favourite colour, dressed in nothing but tiny pieces of fabric that barely cover him as is. He hopes Lewis will like it too.

He reaches out and knocks.

The door opens a few seconds later, and Max hardly has time to react before Lewis pulls him inside by the front of his team polo. Max gasps, bites his lip, and hurriedly rushes out “Hey, how was free practice—” before Lewis gets him up against the wall, all up in his personal space.

“Shut the fuck up about free practice,” Lewis says before leaning in to bring their mouths together, all hot and slick and wet where their lips meet and where they’re both panting for it. His hands find Max’s lithe waist—his waist always fits so nicely in Lewis’ hands—and slip up underneath his team polo, wandering across smooth planes of skin.

Lewis pulls away, leaving Max dazed and gasping, before lifting up the bottom third of Max’s shirt, revealing what’s underneath. The tiny waist straps of the thong peek out over the waistband of Max’s jeans, pulled tight over his hips and teasing what lies a bit lower. “Oh,” Lewis hums, hooking his thumb underneath one of the straps and pulling back a little before letting it snap against Max’s skin, “that’s nice. They’re a perfect fit, aren’t they?”

Max hates to admit it, but just one touch from Lewis and he’s already riled up, his cock rapidly hardening in his tiny panties. He swallows thickly, nods his head the best he can, and croaks, “Yeah. They, uh, they’re really nice.”

Lewis laughs softly at that, pushing up at the hem of Max’s shirt and reaching to tug it over his head. “Then they were worth every cent,” he says before stepping back to take it all in. “Come on, show me the rest of them. I want to see what’s hiding under there.”

His cheeks flushing a potent pink, Max nods and fumbles with the fastening on his jeans. He’d expected this to be plenty embarrassing already, but with Lewis’ dark, hungry gaze on him, sizing him up like he’s his next meal, Max feels more flustered than ever. Max hesitantly unbuttons his jeans and works them slowly down his legs before letting them fall to the floor in a heap, revealing him wearing nothing but the tiny pair of panties. His cock hardens even further at the attention, the knowledge that Lewis is seeing him all like this, dressed like he’s nothing but a common little whore, and it makes him move his hands to his front in a weak attempt to cover himself. It would be better if Lewis would reach out and touch him, Max thinks, keeping his gaze firmly on the floor and nowhere near Lewis’ eyes, because he’s never felt so exposed, so humiliated, in his life.

“Purple looks good on you,” Lewis says softly, teeth catching on his bottom lip. “Turn around for me, will you?”

Max obeys, like he always does. He turns around, showing Lewis how the back piece covers nothing. It nearly makes him want to bend over just like that, beg for Lewis to fuck him already, but Max knows better than that—he’d get in real trouble if he didn’t let Lewis look.

Finally, Lewis is behind him, hands roaming once more over the gentle sloping curve of his waist, then down to his ass, tugging teasingly at the piece of fabric that disappears between his cheeks. “I think I have to make you wear these more often,” he says into Max’s ear, his lips brushing the shell of it. “Would you?”

“Yes, of course,” Max answers perhaps a little too quickly for his own good. His mind goes wild as he imagines all the scenarios Lewis might make him wear these panties in; would he have to wear a pair during a race? During an important sponsor event? During a drivers’ outing? His mouth feels dry as cotton and his head spins, but he tries putting more words together. “It felt so—so naughty, wearing these in public,” he admits, voice softer and coming out nearly as a squeak. “Made me feel really dirty.”

“Yeah?” One of Lewis’ hands strays from Max’s ass, slipping forward until it settles between his thighs, resting over his prominent hard-on, which is barely hidden by the thin silk fabric of the panties. “Oh, Max, you’re wetter than a girl,” he murmurs, running his finger along the length of Max’s cock through his panties. “Does dressing like a slut really turn you on this much?”

Max’s face flushes impossibly redder. He brings his hands up to cover his face, resisting the urge to rock his twitching cock into Lewis’ touch. “I—I’m not a—” he tries to say, but this time it does come out as a squeak as soon as Lewis takes his clothed cock into his hand. Max grabs at Lewis’ arm, tries to move his hips forward and chase more of that delicious friction, but to no avail; Lewis simply chuckles from behind him and lifts his hand away, using his hold on Max’s waist to turn him around.

“You’re not a slut? Really?” Lewis teases, leaning back to take a good look at the way Max’s hard cock strains against the rich purple fabric and stains it with a generous wet spot. “Okay. We could just do room service and watch a movie, then.”

Max whines, panic rising up in his chest. Lewis wouldn’t leave him like this, would he? He has to just be bluffing. “Wait,” he says weakly, “no, I—I need—” He looks at Lewis, pleading. Max has always been downright awful at voicing just what he wants; he finds it embarrassing to say it out loud, admit that Lewis is right about him being a slut. “Okay,” he huffs, frustrated and flushed, “I am, I am.”

Lewis smiles at that and decides to take pity on Max. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, infuriatingly smug as he guides Max over to the bed. Max, of course, follows, lets Lewis manhandle him into the mattress. “You want me to fuck you in those, don’t you?”

Max nods frantically, his eyes big and wide and blue. He thinks he might implode if Lewis doesn’t start touching him right now. “Yes, yes,” he begs, his breathing coming heavier in anticipation when he watches Lewis break away from him to get the lube and shove his clothes off. “Anything you want,” he adds for good measure, his cock twitching as soon as Lewis glances back at him with that addictive hungry look in his eye.

When Lewis returns to the bed, Max expects him to at least slide the panties down his thighs a little, if not take them all the way off, but in his haste Lewis merely moves the panties aside and spreads Max’s thighs apart. One slick finger moves between Max’s cheeks and nudges at the tight furl of his hole before his fingertip eases just inside of him. Max lets out a surprised breath, but relaxes the best he can regardless, whining as Lewis presses more and more of his finger into him.

“Ah—that’s—” Max shifts on the bed, splaying his thighs further apart and reaching for a pillow to shove under his lower back. Lewis brings a second finger up to nudge in alongside the first, opening Max up with ease.

“There, isn’t that good?” Lewis eases both fingers gently in and out of Max, then spreads them apart, stretching out his tight little hole. “You just needed something in you, didn’t you?”

Max whines, louder this time, bringing his hands up to cover his wonderfully flushed face. Lewis’ fingers always feel so good in him; they’re long and elegant and nimble and sometimes Lewis curls them in just the right way that makes his toes curl and his back arch. Lewis adds a third, curling them up into the tight heat of Max’s body, and Max doesn’t know how much longer he can go without losing his goddamn mind.

A surprised moan falls from Max’s lips when Lewis’ fingertips nudge into his prostate. He’s gasping for breath, needily shifting his hips in the direction of Lewis’ fingers, frantic for more, when Lewis chuckles softly and pulls his fingers out, leaving Max empty and clenching down on nothing. “Wait,” Max tries to beg, his eyes big and needy, “I wasn’t—I want—”

“You want,” Lewis teases, kneeling between Max’s spread thighs and squeezing lube out onto his cock. “You always want.” He moves the panties aside once more, exposing Max’s tight little hole and letting his cock spring free, hard and flushed and profusely leaking. Shifting closer, Lewis fits his slick cockhead against Max’s tight rim, exhaling softly as he takes in just how well they fit together, how hot and needy Max is for him. It drives Lewis wild.

Max, although thoroughly embarrassed, manages to squeak, “Please, please,” as he tries to rock his hips down to meet Lewis’ cock. “I’m sorry, I—” he moves to cover his face again, hardly able to look Lewis in the eyes out of embarrassment for being so needy.

Lewis pushes gently forward, letting the head of his cock slip just inside of him. He can’t help but gasp at the slick heat that envelops his cockhead, something downright addicting that lives constantly in his wet dreams. “Don’t be,” he insists, his breaths already coming heavy. “There, see? You always take it so well.”

Max whines, loud and desperate, as Lewis slowly sinks his cock into his tight little hole. He’s had Lewis in him before, of course, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever adjust to just how big Lewis is, all hot pressure that nearly splits him open. Max pants as he forces himself to relax, his desperate, untouched cock twitching as Lewis pushes further and further into him. The praise, of course, doesn’t mitigate his problem, either; in fact, it goes right to Max’s cock, the mere knowledge that he’s being good and taking it well making him crazy.

He barely has time to adjust to Lewis’ cock stretching him out before Lewis is pulling back and thrusting into him again, shocking a moan from his lips. He reaches up to grab at Lewis’ tattooed shoulders, blunt nails digging into his skin as he’s fucked, absolutely ruined, by the driver he’s looked up to for so long.

“That’s it,” Lewis encourages through his harsh breaths as he fucks up into the slick heat of Max’s hole, his hold on Max’s waist surely firm enough to bruise. He can’t stop thinking about how pretty they’ll look on Max’s skin tomorrow, purplish marks lining his waist, and he thinks he’ll have to teasingly press on them a little, just to watch Max gasp and hiss through his teeth at the pain. He leans down to mouth at Max’s neck, kissing hot and wet across that beautiful expanse of pale skin before sucking a generous mark into a spot right below Max’s jaw.

Max’s cock twitches when he feels Lewis suck a mark into his neck. That’s in a spot that’ll be hard to hide, for sure, but would he want to hide it anyway? He tilts his head back and moans as Lewis fucks into him again, his cockhead bumping deliciously right into his prostate and making his back arch. “More, like that,” Max begs easily, the embarrassment ebbing further with each second this goes on. He’s happy to be a slut if it’s for Lewis.

Lewis growls and fucks into him harder, adjusting the position of Max’s body to fuck into him at a better angle. His cock slides into Max impossibly deep, burying itself to the hilt, before pulling back and pushing up into his prostate yet again. He delights in the way a full-body shudder rips through Max as a result, goosebumps rising across the planes of pale skin. Max just feels so fucking good around his cock, all slick and hot and tight where he clenches down around him; Lewis doesn’t know how much longer he can last at this rate, with Max’s pretty sounds in his ear and the gorgeous sight laid out before him.

He brings one hand between their bodies, easily wraps it around Max’s flushed, leaking cock, and strokes it in time with his thrusts, his cockhead bumping into Max’s prostate each time. Max is a whining, moaning mess, his back arching impossibly high as he grabs at Lewis’ shoulders, then the sheets for something to hold onto. “Come on,” Lewis urges, his voice low and uncharacteristically gravelly. “You can come, come on.”

Max doesn’t need any further encouragement. He comes with a pathetic cry, his cockhead spurting hot and thick over his own stomach and Lewis’ fingers. It’s so intense that it nearly whites out his vision and leaves him gasping, his cock twitching with oversensitivity. The drag of Lewis’ cock against his hole immediately becomes too much; he whines with each push of Lewis’ cock into him, his legs instinctually kicking out in protest, but Lewis is unrelenting, using Max’s hole like a personal toy to chase his own orgasm.

“Fuck,” Lewis hisses, leaning down to press his lips against Max’s neck again, and that’s all the warning Max gets before Lewis comes in him, filling his tight little hole with it. Lewis fucks it into him with a few deep strokes, making Max twitch and let out a soft whine.

Finally, it all stops. They’re both left panting, trembling from overstimulation. Max looks downright ruined—his hair sticks to his forehead and his cheeks are impossibly flushed—but Lewis takes in the sight nonetheless, etching it into his memory.

“Oh my God,” Max sighs once he gathers the ability to form words, wincing as Lewis slowly pulls out of him. “That was, ah. Really, uh, really needed, I think.”

“You think so?” Lewis asks, more of a tease as he pulls the panties to the side to cover Max’s softening cock with the royal purple silk again.

“Yeah. I think—oh God, Lewis, those are gonna get so dirty,” Max whines, his face flushing with embarrassment for what has to be the umpteenth time tonight. He presses one hand to his burning cheek, something twisting low in his gut at how Lewis smiles at him.

Lewis touches at the front of Max’s panties, running over his soft cock and making him twitch. “I will buy you hundreds of pairs of these if I have to,” he says decisively, his smile turning naughty, “but you’re right. Guess I should clean us up.” The mattress idly dips as Lewis slides off the edge of the bed and makes his way to the bathroom.

Max sighs, content, then looks down at himself—the streaks of come across his stomach, the way the panties strain against his cock, his shaking thighs. He really is a wreck, but if this is what he gets for obeying Lewis’ requests, this sure as hell won’t be the last time he’ll do so.

#f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #4433 #3344 #f1blr #my fics #i wrote this like a man possessed

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