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pucksandpower · 6 months

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A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship

Max Verstappen x reporter!Reader

Summary: Max decides to get relationship advice from a book written in 1815 and it goes about as well as you would expect. But sometimes the wrong formula still gets the right answer

“In our modern age, when so many standards of propriety have shifted, a gentleman may find himself at a loss when attempting to court a young lady. The rules of etiquette that governed such relationships in decades past offered a framework to guide conduct and ensure all was done properly.

This humble volume intends to provide today’s gentleman that same guidance, so that he may pay suit to the object of his affection in a manner befitting them both. Within these pages, the reader will find what constitutes proper introductions, suitable topics of conversation, appropriate gifts or tokens of regard, and protocols for exchanging correspondence.

While society evolves, there remain certain courtesies that bespeak good breeding. Master these, and you shall go far in winning the hand of any respectable young lady.”

- Excerpt from “A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship” by Reginald Worthington, 1815

A gentleman must display impeccable manners, never using foul language and maintaining a calm and collected demeanor at all times.

“So Max, tell us how you’re feeling ahead of the British Grand Prix this weekend,” you ask, microphone in hand.

Max shifts in his seat, avoiding your gaze. “Uh, yeah, feeling good. The car has been quick so far this weekend in practice.”

You nod enthusiastically. As the newly appointed F1 reporter for Sky Sports, you’re eager to prove yourself in the paddock. And getting an exclusive interview with the reigning double world champion is a great start.

“You have not won at Silverstone before. Do you think you can do it for the first time on Sunday?”

“Absolutely. The team have been working hard and I think we have a good chance,” Max replies.

You glance down at your notes. “Now Max, let’s go back to last weekend in Austria. The incident with Lando on the first lap — can you walk us through what happened from your perspective?”

Max feels his face getting hot. The controversial collision is still a sore point after the race stewards penalized him. He takes a breath, pushing down his true feelings.

“Well, it was racing incident,” he says slowly. “Lando had a good start and was alongside going into turn one. It was tight between us and unfortunately we made contact.”

You raise an eyebrow. “But do you feel that you were more at fault? It seemed to be quite an aggressive move.”

Max clenches his fist under the table discreetly. Calm and collected, he reminds himself.

“Like I said, it was just racing. These things happen sometimes between us drivers.”

“So you don’t think it was an unsafe maneuver on your part?” You press. Your piercing gaze makes Max shift again.

Just stay polite, he thinks. But his frustration boils over.

“It was freaking racing, okay!” He snaps, his calm demeanor vanishing. “Shit happens! Lando didn’t leave me space and we collided. Don’t try to blame me!”

You lean back, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden outburst. Max’s heart drops, immediately regretting his loss of composure.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t mean to curse.”

“No worries, I understand it’s a sensitive topic,” you say evenly. But inside, you’re taken aback. You’ve never seen Max Verstappen react like this.

Desperate to get the interview back on track, you move to the next question. “Let’s talk about your rivalry on the track. Do you feel the tension has somewhat decreased this season as you run ahead with the championship?”

Max nods, clinging to the redirect. “All twenty drivers on the grid are competitors at heart. For sure the rivalry grows each season. Not everyone is fighting for the title so there’s less at stake for some but that can change at any moment. There is always respect between us.”

His standard PR answer seems to bore you. Glancing at the clock, you start wrapping up the interview.

“Last question, Max. Any special plans for the British Grand Prix weekend?”

“Eh, not really,” Max mutters, still kicking himself for losing his temper earlier. So much for gentlemanly manners around ladies. You’ll surely think he’s a foul-mouthed jerk now.

“Okay, I think that’s all we have time for,” you say, standing up. “Thanks again for the interview, Max, I know you’re quite busy here.”

“Yep, no problem,” Max mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

You turn to leave, but stop. “And Max? Don’t worry too much about the clash with Lando. It happens to all drivers sometimes. See you around!” You flash him a smile before exiting.

Max sits stunned for a moment after you leave. Even after his swearing and temper, you hadn’t been upset with him.

A grin slowly spreads across his face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined his chances after all!

Walking back to the Red Bull motorhome, Max can’t stop thinking about you. The way you smiled at him, so warm and understanding. And how you smelled vaguely of lavender.

Max has been captivated since you arrived in the paddock but he has no idea how to approach you … or any woman for that matter.

His only experience is with fast cars, not beautiful reporters.

Pulling up to his driver room, Max is greeted by his physio, Bradley.

“How did it go mate? You look bothered,” Brad asks.

Max sighs. “That interview with Y/N was a disaster. I screwed it up!”

He recounts his slip-up angrily cursing about Lando to Brad, who tries to stifle a laugh.

“Really, that’s what you’re worried about? A little swearing? I’m sure she’s heard far worse around the paddock!”

“But the book said to never use foul language around ladies! To be a gentleman at all times! And I failed at the first test!” Max runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Now she’ll never consider me as a suitor.”

Brad gapes at him. “A suitor? Max, what century are you living in?” He glances down and notices the antique book peeking from Max’s backpack.

Grabbing it, Brad starts flipping through the pages incredulously.

“Wait, you’re actually trying to follow advice from this ancient thing to get a girl?”

Max tries to grab the book back, his cheeks reddening. “Give it back! Yes it’s old but shouldn’t dating still be proper and polite?”

“This stuff is wildly outdated. Just ask her out for drinks. Be yourself!” Brad gestures exasperatedly.

“I can’t just ask her out, are you crazy?” Max sputters. “What if she says no?”

Brad places a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the bloody world champion. And you’re not too hard on the eyes. She’d be mad to turn you down!”

Max cracks a reluctant smile, appreciating the confidence in him. Maybe Brad is right, Max considers. He just needs to relax and stop overthinking things.

“Tell you what, the team is throwing a big party after the race on Sunday. Why don’t you invite Y/N as your date?” Brad suggests.

Max’s stomach flutters nervously at the thought. “I guess I could try ...”

Brad claps him on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about! Now hand that daft old book over so I can throw it in the bin.”

“No! I mean … I’ll hold onto it,” Max says, snatching it back.

It may be outdated but it still has some wise words, he thinks. Even if he doesn’t follow everything word-for-word, a brush up on manners couldn’t hurt.

Max feels reenergized. One mishap wouldn’t ruin his chances with you.

This weekend he would focus on winning the British Grand Prix. And then he would ask you to be his date for the after-party.

Properly, like a gentleman.

What could go wrong?

A gentleman should compose handwritten letters with eloquence and embellished language to express his sentiments, as these missives often carry great weight.

Max sits at the desk in his driver room, pen poised over a pad of stationary borrowed from the hotel.

He takes a deep breath.

My Dearest Y/N …

He pauses. How exactly does he eloquently express his feelings here? Chewing the pen anxiously, he tries again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Since first you did arrive upon the Formula 1 scene, I have been captivated by your beauty and grace ...

Max groans, crumpling up the paper. This sounds ridiculous! But the book had stressed the importance of handwritten letters to woo a lady. And with his shyness around you in person, writing a letter seemed the best approach.

If only he could find the right words.

Staring at the blank sheet of paper, Max thinks back to the British Grand Prix last weekend. He had taken Brad’s advice and invited you to the post-race celebrations as his date.

To his delight, you had happily accepted.

The party had been going perfectly. You both laughed and chatted easily over drinks. Then the DJ started playing and Max got the courage to ask you to dance. With your hand in his, bodies swaying gently together, Max was sure this was his moment to finally tell you his feelings.

But when he tried, the words tangled up inside. His throat went dry and he could only stare mute into your eyes. The song ended and the magic of the moment faded. You slipped away back to your friends, leaving Max cursing his nervousness.

Which is why he’s now resorted to writing a letter. If only he can find the right poetic phrases, he would be able to express everything in his heart.

Chewing his lip, Max starts again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Ever since you did arrive in this paddock, I have admired you from afar. Your beauty and spirit doth light up the Formula 1 world. Being in your radiant presence doth make my heart soar ...

Max frowns. He sounds like Shakespeare on steroids. This is getting him nowhere. Crumpling up another attempt, he gets an idea. He needs advice from someone more eloquent. Pulling out his phone, he selects Daniel Ricciardo’s number.

“Maxie! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Daniel answers cheerily.

“I need your help. I’m trying to write a letter to Y/N telling her ...byou know, that I like her,” Max mumbles. “But I’m struggling with the words. You’re so smooth and charming — any advice?”

Daniel laughs loudly through the phone. “A love letter mate? That’s adorable!”

Max rolls his eyes. “Haha. Yes, it’s hilarious. Do you have any tips or not?”

“Hmm okay, don’t stress too much over the fancy wording. Keep it simple and heartfelt, you know? Just speak honestly about why you like her.”

Max nods. “Right, speak from the heart. I can do that.”

“Go get her champ! Let me know if you need any more romantic advice,” Daniel teases.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Max hangs up with a smile.

Taking a fresh piece of paper, he starts writing.

Dear Y/N,

I wanted to properly tell you how I feel about you. From the moment I first saw you in the paddock, I thought you were the most beautiful and amazing woman.

Your smile makes me weak. Being near you gives me butterflies in my stomach.

Spending time together at the party was really special for me. I wish I had told you then how I felt. But I get so nervous around you that the words don’t come out right. So I thought writing this might be easier.

I know we haven’t known each other long. But I would love the chance to get to know you more. Maybe we could have dinner sometime, if you feel the same way?

Let me know.

Yours,

Max

Max reads over the short letter and nods, satisfied. It’s simple and honest, just saying the thoughts he can never seem to speak out loud around you.

So, after carefully folding the stationary, Max slips out of the Red Bull motorhome in search of you.

Max finds you chatting with some other journalists near the media center. He hangs back shyly, waiting for you to be free.

You glance up and catch his eye, giving a smile and wave. Taking a deep breath, Max approaches.

“Hi, Y/N. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course!” You say, turning to him. The other reporters conveniently scatter, leaving the two of you alone.

“So uh, I wrote you this letter.” Max mutters, pulling the folded paper from his pocket. His palms are sweating and he rubs his neck nervously. “It’s just some thoughts I wanted to share with you.”

“Aww Max, you didn’t have to write me anything!” You beam at him sweetly.

Max shoves the letter toward you, willing himself to just give it over before he loses confidence. But as you reach out for it, anxiety grips him.

What if you reject him after reading it? Or worse, what if you show the soppy love letter to your coworkersto laugh about?

His pulse pounding, Max swiftly yanks the letter back. Before he can think twice, he starts hastily ripping it up into tiny shreds.

“Max!” You cry out in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, just realized how weird it was to write you something so personal,” Max stammers, face flaming red.

He lets the shreds of paper fall from his fingers.

“Oh.” Your face falls in disappointment. “That’s too bad, I’m sure it was very thoughtful ...”

An awkward silence follows. Max curses internally, hating himself. Why had he chickened out at the last second? He scrambles for something to say.

“Yeah, it was too forward of me,” he rambles nervously. “I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea about us. Not that there is an us! I mean, we’re colleagues.”

You frown slightly in confusion. “Colleagues? I thought we were becoming friends ...”

“Right, yes friends!” Max amends quickly. “Friends is good. Don’t want rumors or gossip spreading. Not that what I wrote was gossip worthy! It was boring really, nothing important.”

He forces out a laugh, cringing at his bumbling excuse. You just stare at him in bewilderment.

“O-kay then ... well, I need to get back to work. See you around, Max.” You give him a strange look before turning away slowly.

Max watches you walk off, letting out a long groan once you’re out of earshot.

He slaps a hand to his forehead. Could that have gone any worse? He’d absolutely butchered it and now you must think he’s a complete weirdo.

Dejected, Max trudges back to the motorhome. He replays the scene in his head, berating himself over and over. If only he had the guts to just give you that letter!

Instead he had to go and make a complete fool of himself. There’s no way you have any interest in him now after witnessing that trainwreck.

Sulking back to his driver’s room, Max finds his teammate in the hallways.

“What’s up with you? You look like you just lost the championship,” Checo remarks.

Max just opens his door and flops down onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh. “I really screwed things up with Y/N ...”

He recounts the whole awkward encounter to Checo, who tries and fails to hold back laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Max snaps, tossing a scrunched up sock at him.

“Sorry, hermano,” Checo says, composing himself. “But really, I doubt it was that bad. Just explain to Y/N what happened and try again.”

“No way. It’s hopeless now,” Max moans. “I can’t face her after that.” He grabs one of the shredded letter pieces off the table, smoothing it out to reveal a fragment of his confession.

Crumpling it back up, Max tosses it aside bitterly. He definitely lost his chance thanks to his own nerves and stupidity.

Max does everything he can to avoid you over the next days, too embarrassed to face you after the letter fiasco. For your own part, you seem equally uncertain how to act around him now.

At races you keep interactions strictly professional. The ease and friendship that was developing between you is gone.

Max hates that he ruined everything before it could even really begin.

It’s not until the Dutch Grand Prix weeks later that you finally confront him.

“We should talk,” you say, catching Max alone after practice one day. “Why have you been avoiding me since Silverstone?”

Max shuffles his feet, staring at the ground. “I just made things weird with that letter. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You step closer, tilting his chin up gently so he meets your eyes.

“I thought the idea behind it was really sweet. I was so disappointed when you just ripped it up. I care about you, so don’t push me away, okay?”

Heart pounding, Max manages a sheepish nod.

You lean in slowly and kiss his cheek, pretending not to notice how his skin turns rosy.

“I’m still waiting to see what you wrote for me one day,” you whisper with a smile before walking off, leaving Max stunned.

Touching his cheek, a grin spreads across Max’s face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything after all.

The book might know a thing or two.

A gentleman should present small tokens of affection: Offering a lady flowers, a lock of hair, or a sentimental keepsake is a cherished practice.

Max paces the floor of his Monaco apartment, phone in hand as he scrolls through a website about flower meanings and symbolism.

Max clicks on the different options, overwhelmed. Who knew flowers were so complicated? Red roses mean passion but are too strong for courting. Yellow roses signify friendship. White lilies convey purity and innocence.

Max frowns. None of these seem quite right.

Finally he comes across the perfect choice — peonies. According to the guide, pink peonies signal romance, prosperity and good fortune.

Isn’t that romantic? This will be the ideal flower to to show how much he cares for you.

Satisfied with his floral choice, Max orders an impressive bouquet of pink peonies to be delivered to you before the upcoming race.

As soon as you receive them, he anxiously waits for your reaction.

To his disappointment, no thank you comes. In fact, you don’t acknowledge the flowers at all.

When Max finally spots you in the paddock on Thursday, his smile fades at your red-rimmed eyes and congested voice.

“Are you okay? You don’t look well,” Max frowns.

You give a stuffy laugh. “Thanks, just what every girl wants to hear.” Dabbing at your runny nose with a tissue, you sigh. “Sorry, I’m a mess today. Turns out I’m quite allergic to peonies. Those lovely flowers you sent put me out of commission the past two days.”

Max’s eyes widen in alarm. “Wait, you’re allergic to peonies? I had no idea, I’m so sorry!”

He mentally kicks himself. Some romantic gesture this was, practically making you ill. “I was just trying to do something nice ...” he says guiltily.

But you wave off his concern with a smile, touched that he went to such effort. “It’s really sweet of you, truly. They were beautiful. My immune system just seems to have other plans.”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets. “Let me make it up to you. What if I cook you dinner next week instead of flowers?”

Your cheeks flush slightly. “I would really like that.”

***

The following Tuesday, Max puts his meager cooking skills to use whipping up pasta. Pretty soon he has an aromatic tomato sauce simmering away while he slices bread for garlic toast.

When you arrive, bottle of wine in hand, Max greets you wearing a “World’s Okayest Chef” apron. Laughter and light banter flow easily between you two all evening. The domesticity of sharing a meal together feels wonderfully natural. Lingering glances and touches over the table make it clear this is now a proper date.

After dessert, you help Max tidy up the kitchen. Playfully flicking soap suds at each other soon turns into a full-on bubble fight. Laughing and stumbling into each other, Max ends up gently pinning you against the counter.

Your giggles trail off, smiles fading into something warmer. Slowly Max leans in, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

When you eventually pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours contentedly. No flowers or grand gestures needed.

Just this — being together.

***

Before free practice of the following race, Max seeks you out, fidgeting nervously with the small pair of scissors in his hands.

“I … I wanted to give you something special. A token of my affection for you.”

Before you can react, Max takes a lock of his light brown hair and starts snipping right there in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise as the severed strands fall into his palm.

“It’s uh, a lock of my hair. For you to keep,” he explains, holding it out to you sheepishly.

You have to stifle a laugh at how earnest he looks. “Wow Max, that’s really thoughtful but you didn’t have to cut your hair for me!”

Max’s cheeks flush pink. “No, I want you to have it! To show, you know, that I’m devoted to you and all that ...” His voice trails off at your amused expression.

Maybe this romantic gesture is a bit stranger than he realized. But you take the lock of hair from him with a gracious smile.

“Well, I’ll always treasure a piece of you.”

His grin brightens. Then he remembers the other part of his gift. “Oh wait, there’s more!”

He pulls a small oval locket from his pocket and clicks it open to reveal an empty compartment.

“I thought you could keep the hair in this locket, close to your heart,” he explains earnestly. “That way you will always have a part of me with you.”

Your eyes soften, touched by the sentiment if not the unconventional nature of his gift. But seeing how much thought Max put into it makes you melt and you give him a quick kiss.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Here, would you put the hair inside for me?”

Carefully, Max places the strands into the golden locket and fastens it around your neck, face lit up.

“So you really like it then?”

You nod, gently clasping the locket in your hand. “I’ll cherish it always.”

A gentleman should bring a tasteful gift, such as a book of poetry or a hand-painted fan, as a gesture of appreciation for her hospitality when visiting a lady’s home.

Max double checks the address on his phone as he pulls up outside your London flat. He’s visiting for the first time today and wants to make a good impression.

Max looks down at your gift on the passenger seat — a squirming bengal kitten, licking up the treat Max had brought to calm her for the car ride.

You had completely fallen for his two rambunctious bengal cats when you met them at his apartment.

“They are just the cutest! I’ve always wanted a bengal,” you had cooed as Jimmy curled up contentedly in your lap while Sassy climbed across your shoulders.

So when Max saw that the ethical breeder he bought his cats from had this spirited little kitten available, he knew she would be the perfect gift for your first proper date at your home.

A living reminder of the night your relationship began.

Scooping up the wriggling furball, Max walks up and rings your buzzer.

You greet him at the door with a smile and quick kiss, then abruptly stop short at the sight of the kitten in his arms.

“Max, what is that?”

“It’s a bengal kitten!” He announces proudly, holding her up like he is reenacting The Lion King. “I got her for you, as a gift.”

He holds the mewling kitten out to you eagerly. You stare back, mouth agape.

“You got me a kitten? Max, that’s insane!” You exclaim. “Bengals cost thousands of euros, you can’t just show up with one. Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t seriously buy me a €3000 cat.”

Max’s smile falters, realizing suddenly how over-the-top the gift seems.

“I mean, I just wanted to do something really special for you,” he mumbles, face reddening.

The kitten lets out a pitiful meow. You bite your lip, conflicted. She really is adorable. And you know Max meant well with his lavish gesture. Sighing, you open your door wider.

“Okay, I guess I can’t turn away this cutie now. Come on in.”

Max’s face lights up in relief. “You’ll keep her then? That’s amazing!”

He carefully sets the energetic furball down and she immediately starts exploring. You have to laugh as she pounces and tumbles over her paws.

“She’s going to destroy all my stuff,” you stare resignedly as she claws her way up your upholstered couch, claws snagging the fabric.

Max waves off your concern. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for anything she ruins. And I’ll make sure she can come to races too, so you’re never apart.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You think they’re going to let a kitten into the paddock?”

“Lewis brings Roscoe so they have to allow cats too or it’s not fair! Don’t worry, I will make it happen,” Max declares confidently.

Despite yourself, you smile at his determination. Gazing down at the kitten now nibbling your toe, your reservations melt away.

She really has stolen your heart already.

“Well, I guess we’re in this together now, huh little one?” You murmur. “Thank you. I think she’s the perfect gift.”

His whole face lights up at those words. Impulsively, you stand on tiptoe to kiss him.

“I think I’ll name her Emiliana,” you suggest softly. “Since she’s my special gift from Max Emilian Verstappen.”

Max grins. “I love that idea.”

Maybe Max is out of touch with normal gift-giving. But looking into his smiling eyes, you know everything he does comes from a place of love. And you wouldn’t change his thoughtfulness for anything.

Even if it means welcoming a hyperactive €3000 kitten into your life.

A gentleman should exercise prudence and restraint in the event that his family honor is insulted. Engaging in a duel must be the last resort, pursued only when all other means of resolving the matter have been exhausted.

“Who’s ready for her first race?” You coo to Emiliana, clipping a leash on to her harness. The energetic bengal kitten twirls in excited circles hearing the jingle of her collar.

Max chuckles, scooping Emiliana up. “I know you’ll love exploring the garage!” Kissing her furry head, he nestles her safely in his jacket pocket for the walk over.

Arriving at the bustling paddock, Max gently puts Emiliana down to allow her to explore, the kitten’s wide eyes reflect the flash of cameras and bright team colors swirling around. With Max’s hand securely in yours, you both smile proudly showing her off to the other drivers and staff.

Most are delighted, stopping to fawn over the curious feline. But as you pass by the Alpine motorhome, she ends up scampering across the asphalt and almost tripping Esteban Ocon in the process.

“Ugh, control your overgrown rat!” He grumbles loudly.

Max freezes, blood boiling at the insult toward Emiliana. Clenching his fists, he spins to confront Esteban. But you grab his arm firmly.

“Max, stop. He’s not worth it,” you murmur. After a tense moment, Max reluctantly relaxes his stance, not wanting to cause a scene.

You steer him away, stroking Emiliana comfortingly. “Don’t listen to the mean man, sweetie. You are perfect.”

But Max continues seething silently.

The remainder of the weekend passes uneventfully and you assume Max has let go of the unpleasant encounter. But once the race starts, you grow anxious seeing the two drivers battling unusually close together.

Sure enough, despite leading comfortably, Max slows his car to allow Esteban to catch up. Your heart drops as Max then swerves aggressively into Esteban’s side, sending him spinning off in a blaze of shredded carbon fiber. Meanwhile, Max continues on unfazed to take the chequered flag.

You’re fuming when Max finally makes his way back to the garage. Seeing your crossed arms and fiery glare, his triumphant smile fades.

“I know what you’re going to say ...” he starts guiltily.

“That you promised not to seek revenge and then deliberately crashed Esteban?” You snap.

Max winces. “Seeing him just brought back all that anger ...”

“So you decided to punt him at 200 mph?” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“I was not thinking clearly,” Max scuffs his shoe. “My temper took over again.”

Your anger melts slightly seeing Max’s remorse. With a sigh, you pull him into a tight hug. “Do you have any idea how badly you both could’ve been hurt by pulling a stunt like that?”

Max looks down, properly chastised. “You’re right, it was really dangerous what I did.”

“Not to mention nearly ruining your own race!”

“I didn’t care about losing position,” Max admits. “I have already secured the championship. Defending Emiliana’s honor was more important in the moment.”

You shake your head. “Our kitten’s honor is not worth you risking your life! Please think these things through before acting so rashly.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t thinking straight,” Max says sincerely. “I promise to be more responsible going forward. No more putting myself or anyone else in danger over petty spats.”

He hugs you close again. “Thank you for keeping me rational and safe.”

You smile up at him with a soft laugh, letting some of your tension melt away. "Someone has to.”

A gentleman should keep a strict code of chivalry: Offer your seat to a lady, hold doors, and protect her from harm, both physical and emotional.

The Singapore Grand Prix is always a grueling one thanks to the heat and humidity. But this weekend, Mother Nature seems intent on making it even tougher.

Dark ominous clouds have been building all afternoon before finally bursting open right as final practice ends. Fat raindrops pelt down rapidly, sending the paddock scrambling for cover.

Safely under the shelter of the Red Bull garage, Max keeps an eye out for you. He knows you’re stuck in the media pen finishing interviews along with the other reporters.

Sure enough, he spots your ponytail across the pen, soaked through as you attempt to shield your equipment from the downpour.

Without thinking, Max hands off his mic and races out into the rain toward you. Holding his team jacket over your head, he guides you under the shelter of a nearby awning.

“Oh my gosh, Max! You’re soaked!” You exclaim, taking in his drenched state.

But Max just shrugs it off. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Couldn’t let you get caught out there though.”

He rubs your arms briskly, trying to warm you up. Seeing you shivering in your thin blouse — now transparent from the rain — Max feels a pang of protectiveness.

“Here, let me get you something dry ...” He sprints off, returning minutes later with a Red Bull hoodie and umbrella from his driver’s room.

Bundling you up in the warm dry clothes, Max finally relaxes. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. But I wasn’t about to leave you stranded in that!”

You smile up at him, sincerely touched. “My hero! Thank you, superstar.”

Leaning up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft kiss. Max thinks that heart swells three sizes, thrilled that he was able to protect you.

As the weekend goes on, Max keeps finding little ways to display chivalry. Opening doors, giving you his seat, shielding you with umbrellas whenever the rain returns.

You assure him that the fussing is unnecessary but Max insists. He wants you to feel cared for and safe at all times.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the paddock shares that sentiment.

You’re rushing to grab some coffee before the race when you overhear a muttered conversation by a group of reporters that are huddled together.

“There she is — Verstappen’s girl ...”

“Ugh, it’s so obvious she only got the job with Sky Sports because they’re dating.”

“Sleeping her way to the top if you ask me. No way she’d be here otherwise ...”

Their cruel laughter cuts through you sharply. Blinking back sudden tears, you hurry away before they can notice you.

Of course you’ve dealt with doubters questioning your skill and merits before. It’s an occupational hazard as a woman in motorsport.

But having your relationship with Max twisted in such a way stings deeply.

Arriving at the grid, you paste on a smile and try not to let the nasty remarks ruin your day. You have always had to work twice as hard to prove yourself and you were not going to give up now.

But Max notices that something is off immediately. And, when you keep avoid his concerned gaze, he gently presses for answers.

“What’s wrong, liefde? And don’t say nothing,” he adds, seeing you open your mouth to brush it off.

You sigh, reluctantly telling him about the reporters’ hurtful comments. Instantly Max’s jaw tightens, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Who said that? Point them out to me.”

You hesitate, not wanting to cause a scene. But Max takes your hand firmly.

“I won’t let them get away with questioning your integrity like that. It’s unacceptable.”

So you subtly point out the gossiping reporters huddled nearby. Max’s gaze darkens. Turning on his heel, he marches straight for the media center.

By the time you catch up, he’s already deep in a terse conversation with Formula 1’s head of communications.

You watch in astonishment as the offenders’ media access is promptly revoked despite their loud protests. But Max stands firm, insisting this is non-negotiable if he is expected to keep participating in his media duties.

When he finally returns to you, his anger has melted away into concern. “I’m so sorry you had to hear their garbage. Don’t ever listen to it, okay? You are brilliant at what you do.”

Your eyes well up again but this time from gratitude. Even during the pre-race chaos, Max made defending you his top priority.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly. “My knight in shining racing gear.”

Max just holds you close, wishing he could shield you from all harm. Because your happiness and comfort are paramount to him. And Max will gladly take on any dragon — or unscrupulous reporter — that dares to threaten that.

With Max by your side, ready to come to your aid in rain or shine, you know everything will be okay.

A gentleman should always be well-dressed in the latest fashions and ensure that his cravat is tied to perfection.

Max frowns down at the open suitcase on his bed, clothes strewn everywhere. He’s digging through the wardrobe he packed trying to find something stylish to wear for the United States Grand Prix.

The problem is, Max has no idea what the latest fashions even are. Jeans and a team-branded shirt are his staples both on and off the track. But he needs to make more effort for you.

Sifting through his options unsuccessfully, Max sighs. There’s nothing here that screams high fashion. He would have to do the unthinkable and ask advice from someone … like Lewis Hamilton.

Max cringes at the thought of approaching his rival for fashion help. But Lewis is always complemented for his outfits so he is clearly an expert on the subject.

Swallowing his pride, Max fires off a text before he can overthink it.

To his surprise, Lewis responds enthusiastically with suggestions and styling tips. Their competitive rivalry is momentarily forgotten as the veteran driver dedicates all day to helping Max looking sharp.

Arriving at the paddock on Thursday morning, Max scrutinizes his reflection anxiously while scanning his pass. He’s wearing slim-fitting distressed jeans with a silky patterned shirt that Lewis instructed was to be left half-unbuttoned.

Definitely way flashier than his normal attire but Lewis assured him it was very on-trend. So Max takes a deep breath and heads out to find you.

Your eyes widen in surprise taking in his dramatic style overhaul. “Whoa, look at you!”

Max preens a bit, relieved that you don’t seem to be put off by his bold fashion choice.

“I figured it was time to elevate my fashion game,” he spins cheekily to show off the full look.

You have to stifle a laugh at seeing straight-laced Max suddenly dressing like a runway model after fans used to be shocked to see him in anything other than a white shirt.

It’s certainly different but cute that he’s putting in so much effort for your relationship.

As the weekend continues, so does Max’s parade of high fashion outfits. He turns up looking like he stepped off a catwalk in trendy printed shirts, embroidered jackets, and even sequined trousers.

By Sunday, the dramatic style transformation has paddock tongues wagging. Max appears entirely oblivious to the gossip though, just happy that his attempts to impress you seem to be working.

But watching him awkwardly fidget with the billowing oversized silk sleeves of today’s shirt as he tries to focus on preparing for the race, you realize that this isn’t your Max. Not really.

Catching his eye, you gesture for him to join you out of earshot and away from the view of cameras. Gently taking his hands, you meet his gaze.

“Be honest with me, what’s going on with the makeover? This isn’t like you at all.”

He ducks his head with a sheepish smile. “I just wanted to dress nicely for you this weekend. Like a proper gentleman.”

You lift his chin until he’s looking at you again. “You don’t have to try and be someone else for me. I like you for you — jeans, team kit, and all.”

Max’s shoulders relax in relief. “Yeah?”

“Of course! Please don’t feel like you ever have to change.” You lean up to kiss him softly. “Now let’s get you into some racing gear, champ.”

A gentleman should know that prolonged eye contact is a powerful tool for conveying one’s intentions.

“So Max, I have to ask about the incident with Carlos last race. Do you think your aggression was over the line?”

You fixes Max with an inquisitive gaze, microphone poised as you wait for his response. But instead of answering, he just stares back intensely without blinking.

After a long awkward pause, you shift in your seat. “Uh, Max? Did you hear my question?”

“Hmm? Oh right, yeah. It was just racing, these things happen,” he says vaguely, eyes never leaving yours.

You move on to the next question, puzzled by his distracted behavior. Throughout the interview, Max continues gazing at you unwaveringly.

It’s a bit unsettling to have him stare so fixedly without looking away.

Finally you wrap up the stilted conversation, feeling relieved to escape his laser focus. What was up with that?

Over the weekend, you catch Max staring silently at you on numerous occasions — in hospitality, on the grid, across the garage. Without blinking or looking away, he’ll fix you with that powerful gaze until you flush and look away first.

By Sunday you’ve gotten used to the drawn out m moments of extended eye contact.

But during the post-race press conference, Max cranks it up a notch. As you ask Charles a question about the race, you feel Max’s eyes boring into the side of your face. Glancing over, you nearly fumble your recorder.

He’s just ... staring. Blatantly. Right at you as you’re trying to have a professional conversation.

The other drivers keep sneaking amused looks between you two and trying to hide their snickers.

You finally wrap up hurriedly, flustered by Max’s unrelenting eye contact. As the rest of the press file out, you hang back.

“So the whole staring thing ... we’re really doing that huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

Max has the grace to look sheepish. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to throw you off! I’ve just been trying to connect with you even more.”

You have to stifle a laugh imagining him sternly holding his own gaze in a mirror for practice. “I could tell! But maybe dial it down a little bit during interviews?”

Rubbing his neck, Max chuckles. “Yeah good call.”

He’s quiet for a moment before meeting your eyes again, this time softer. “I do like the way it makes me focus just on you though. Like the rest of the world fades away.”

“Yeah,” you duck your head, “I like that part too.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. Reaching out, he gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

When Max leans in, eyes fluttering closed, you let yourself get lost in the moment. The outside world disappears and all that’s left is his lips on yours, saying more than words ever could.

A gentleman should never speak of his own accomplishments or wealth in a boastful manner, instead let your actions and character speak for themselves.

“Liefde, have you seen my phone charger?” Max calls from the living room of his apartment. “Nevermind, found it!”

He grabs the charger off of the coffee table, narrowly avoiding knocking over the World Drivers’ Championship trophy displayed prominently in the center.

You stifle an amused smile as you enter. Ever since you jokingly teased Max about being humble, he has made his accomplishments strangely hard to ignore.

Like the fact that his trophy room door now mysteriously stays wide open whenever you’re over. Or how he keeps offering for you to take Air Max whenever you need to travel instead of flying commercial. It’s his unique way of bragging without actually saying a word.

Joining him on the sofa, you have to shoo away one of the cats that is trying to swat the trophy off the table. Max just grins.

“Sassy really loves that thing! Although I guess I can’t blame her, it is very shiny.”

You laugh, curling into his side. “It certainly seems to belong front and center lately. Along with your three championship-winning helmets on the table in the foyer.”

Max attempts an innocent look that doesn’t quite stick. “What? They’re nice decorative pieces!”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. Glancing around, you note magazine covers bearing his face displayed on the walls along with a framed race-worn suit hanging randomly next to the kitchen.

Meeting his eyes, you give him a knowing look. Max holds your gaze for a moment before cracking.

“Okay fine, I may have highlighted some ... accomplishments since your little humble comment,” he admits with a sheepish grin.

You have to laugh. “Max, you know I was just teasing you! I would never want you to downplay your achievements.”

Twisting to face him, you take his hands in yours. “You’ve worked so hard for everything you have. Please don’t feel like you can’t be proud about it.”

Max’s expression softens. “I know and I am really proud of my racing success.” Glancing around the trophy-filled apartment, he chuckles. “Maybe a bit too loudly recently.”

You lean in to kiss him tenderly. “I love you and I’m so proud of you. But it’s this,” you tap his chest on top of his heart, “This is what made me fall for you, not the jet or the trophies.”

“Yeah?” Max asks, eyes crinkling happily.

You snuggle into his shoulder. “Of course. You’ll always just be my Max.”

But then the gifts start arriving. An Hermes Birkin bag here … some Van Cleef jewelry there. Presented nonchalantly but you know that their extravagance is no accident.

Finally, you have to say something when a couture Chanel gown appears in your hotel room one day.

“What’s going on with all these gifts all of a sudden?” You ask gently.

“Nothing! I just want to treat my amazing girlfriend the way she deserves to be treated.”

You raise an eyebrow and look … and look … and look … until Max cracks. “Okay fine, I may have been trying to show off a bit,” he admits. “But it’s hard not to when I want to give you the world!”

Your expression softens. Taking his hands, you wait until he meets your eyes.

“You could give me plastic rings and clothing from the thrift store and I would be just as happy. Your love means everything to me, not material things.”

“Really?”

You nod and climb into his lap to connect your lips in a slow kiss. Pulling back, you add teasingly, “But I am keeping the dress.”

He laughs, all tension vanishing. “Of course, it will look incredible on you. Like everything does.”

A gentleman should demonstrate a willingness to adapt to a lady’s interests and preferences, cultivating shared hobbies and passions.

“Here we are!” You announce, gesturing at the entrance of the padel club. “I know you’ll love this. It combines the best parts of tennis, squash, and racquetball.”

Taking Max’s hand, you lead him inside eagerly. You’ve been trying to get him to try padel, your favorite hobby, for ages. Finally convincing him to play while visiting him in Monaco, you do a quick rundown of the rules in the locker room.

“So basically we score just like in tennis but the walls and mesh are also in play. You can use them to bounce shots off of strategically,” you explain, miming hitting the ball off the glass wall.

Max nods along, game face on. He’s determined to share your passion for this sport.

“Got it. Use the walls, beat the opponents, win the match,” he summarizes confidently.

You laugh. “Pretty much! Now let’s go kick some butt out there.”

Gripping your paddles, you head onto the slick court. Max gravitates right to the mesh wall, intrigued by the unique setup.

You have to hide your grin — he’s like a kid exploring and testing shots out eagerly. His competitive nature means that he is completely engrossed within minutes.

And Max certainly has a knack for padel. His fast reflexes and coordination transfer over as he adapts his technique. Soon you’re both moving seamlessly around each other, dominating the points against a random couple Max had convinced to play against the two of you.

Hours later, sweaty but exhilarated, Max slings an arm around you grinning.

“That was epic! This is such an awesome game, I can’t wait to play more.” His excitement makes your heart swell. Nothing better than sharing your interests with someone special.

Over the next weeks, you find any excuse to play padel together. On lazy mornings, Max coaxes you out of bed. During race weeks, you even manage to squeeze in a few matches after media day.

Soon Max transforms into a padel fanatic, always scouting new courts and competition. His dedication to mastering every shot warms your heart. And the silly trash talk and celebrations make every match so much fun.

It was no surprise when Max decided to organize a players tournament between races. Getting the other drivers involved had your makeshift paddock league battling it out.

“Here for the padel party!” Daniel crows, showing up in head-to-toe tennis gear.

Charles, Carlos, Lando, and Pierre are there too, warming up their swings. You help Max demonstrate the rules, the other guys teasing him good-naturedly about his new obsession.

Once play begins though, the intensity heats up quickly. Max’s laser focus kicks in as he charges around you protectively, looking to crush anyone who dares hit near you. Luckily you hold your own plenty well too against the drivers.

When the final point is called in your favor, Max tackles you in an exuberant hug, the guys applauding around you. Grinning and flushed with exertion, you all head inside to refuel and celebrate a fun day of sport and competition.

One padel date turned into a shared passion that bonded you both with the other drivers too. And seeing your smile reflecting Max’s own euphoric one, you know this is only the start of many joyful tournaments and casual games together.

Maybe Max went a bit over-the-top in his newfound padel fever. But his willingness to dive headfirst into your interests fills you with more love than you ever thought possible.

Having someone care enough to enter your world so fully and share the things that light you up — that’s the most meaningful gesture of all.

A gentleman should learn to play a musical instrument or be a connoisseur of music, as serenading a lady can be a charming expression of affection.

Max turns the acoustic guitar over in his hands, plucking experimentally at the strings.

With your birthday coming up, serenading you seems like the perfect romantic gesture. Now he just has to actually learn how to play this thing. It seems simple enough — how hard can the guitar really be?

Max starts pressing on the strings randomly, the resulting discordant notes making him wince.

Okay, this might take some work.

Pulling up a beginner tutorial on his phone, he starts practicing the basic chords. But his fingers fumble clumsily, refusing to contort into the proper shapes. The more he tries, the worse the mangled sounds get.

Frustrated after the thirty minute lesson yields little improvement, Max sighs. “How am I supposed to woo my girlfriend with music if I can’t even play a damn C chord?”

Time for a professional to step in. Max books lessons with a private guitar instructor, determined to nail this down in time for your birthday surprise.

At the first lesson, the instructor eyes Max’s hands critically. “Right, let’s start by getting your fingers conditioned ...”

He takes Max through various stretching and dexterity exercises to limber up. Max nods along dutifully until the instructor pulls out a contraption with rubber bands and metal prongs.

“What the hell is that thing?” Max asks warily.

“A finger strengthener — we need to work on your independence and stamina,” he explains matter-of-factly, fitting the device over Max’s hand.

Max grimaces as the rubber bands strain against his fingers. The instructor just nods approvingly. “Perfect, twenty minutes per day with that.”

By the end of the torturous lesson, the only progress Max has made is identifying the parts of the guitar. He’s nowhere close to actually playing.

Max leaves discouraged but even more motivated to conquer the instrument somehow before your birthday. He continues meeting with the instructor multiple times a week, practicing rigorously outside of lessons too.

You notice his new habit of constantly stretching his fingers but Max plays it off casually not wanting to spoil the surprise.

The week before your birthday, Max has made marginal improvements but is still far from properly playing full songs. Desperate, he invites the instructor over for one final intensive lesson.

After two grueling hours of relentless drills, the instructor throws his hands up. “I’ve never had a student struggle this much with guitar basics. Maybe we should consider something easier, like the triangle or a recorder ...”

“No!” Max interrupts forcefully. “The guitar is a classic romantic instrument. I just need more practice before her party tomorrow.”

The instructor sighs. “If you say so. Just keep working on your fretting transitions and we’ll hope for the best.”

After he leaves, Max stays up late into the night strumming determinedly. By your birthday, his fingers are sore and calloused within an inch of their lives. But he can semi-confidently stumble through a love song and that’s enough for tonight.

When the moment arrives, he takes a deep breath and begins gently playing the intro to “Thinking Out Loud,” ready to serenade you. Max makes it halfway through before the chords descend into choppy noise.

You still applaud enthusiastically after, smiling ear to ear. “That was amazing, my love! Thank you so much.”

Max ducks his head bashfully. “It still needs some work. But I’m glad you liked it.”

Laughing, you take his tortured hands and kiss each fingertip. “I loved it because it came from you. That’s all that matters to me.”

Warmth blooms in Max’s chest. No matter how imperfect, you appreciated his efforts because of how much heart he put into it just for you.

In the end, no amount of lessons could transform Max into a virtuoso overnight. But he did become accomplished in one universal language — love.

And at the end of the day, that means everything.

A gentleman should recognize and appreciate a lady’s accomplishments, whether in the arts, charity work, or society.

“So Max, what are your thoughts on taking pole position here in Brazil?” The reporter asks.

Max grins into the mic. “Yeah, feels great to put it on pole here. The team has done an amazing job dialing in the car.”

He pauses and then adds, “Of course my girlfriend Y/N also put in a stellar qualifying effort yesterday covering the action for Sky Sports. Her commentary is always so eloquent and insightful.”

The reporter smiles amused as Max continues raving about your on-air skills for several minutes before remembering to refocus him on the results of the actual qualifying seasion.

This has become a familiar trend lately in Max’s interviews. No matter the question, he manages to redirect the conversation to highlight your various talents.

“... our pace was really strong today, I think we will be able to keep the top step tomorrow. Oh, speaking of strong pace, Y/N just ran a personal best 5k time last week during training ...”

In team debriefs, the same thing happens. Engineer queries about race strategy are derailed into praise about your presenting skills. PR reps trying to discuss Max’s social media posts somehow end up hearing about your recent venture into pottery making instead.

Even in casual conversations, you come up constantly.

“Morning, Max! How are you today?” His trainer asks while spotting a weight lifting session.

“Doing great! Y/N is also doing great, she’s learning Dutch and picking it up so quickly. Have I mentioned how talented she is with languages?”

By now the whole paddock is highly familiar with your many accomplishments, since Max seizes every possible opportunity to spotlight them.

You find it rather endearing, if a bit silly at times. Like when Max commandeered an entire interview just to detail the charities that you volunteer with.

“You know I’m capable of mentioning my own accomplishments if they come up naturally, right?” You tease him later.

Max looks sheepish. “I know, I just like bragging about you! I’m really proud of everything you do.”

You soften, giving him a quick kiss. “That’s really sweet. But maybe tone down the constant spotlight a little?” You suggest gently.

“Noted,” Max chuckles.

He makes an effort after that to highlight your achievements only when truly relevant. Because while he could praise you all day, Max also respects your wishes.

And he realizes you don’t need him to validate your worth — your talents speak for themselves. But he still can’t resist sharing little proud snippets whenever your accomplishments come up organically.

Over time you appreciate Max’s admiration and support more and more. Having someone so genuinely invested in all aspects of your life is incredibly touching.

Maybe he goes a bit overboard in his praising sometimes. But knowing that Max is always your biggest cheerleader, when it comes to racing coverage or otherwise, means everything.

A gentleman should seek the permission of the lady’s father or guardian before proposing, demonstrating respect for her family and social conventions. Once granted, he should choose an intimate setting for the proposal, away from the public eye. He must then express his intentions with sincerity, dropping to one knee and presenting a ring as a symbol of his commitment.

Max takes a deep breath, fidgeting with the small velvet box in his pocket. Today’s the day — he’s going to ask your father for permission to marry you.

You’ve reassured Max time and time again that your dad loves him but that does nothing to settle his nerves as he knocks on the front door of your childhood home.

When your father welcomes Max inside warmly, he relaxes slightly. Clearing his throat, Max launches into the speech he prepared.

“Sir, I’ve come today because I want to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. We have been together for years now and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, completely committed to her happiness. She is the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

Max pauses, blushing. “Sorry, I had this whole thing planned out better. I guess what I’m asking is — may I have your blessing to propose to Y/N?”

Your dad grins, clapping Max on the shoulder. “You know you didn’t have to be so formal about this. I already see you as part of the family.”

Max smiles bashfully. “I just wanted to show my respect for you and Y/N. Your blessing would mean a lot to me.”

“You have it absolutely. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for her than you.” He pulls Max into a hug. “Welcome to the family, son.”

Max leaves on cloud nine, thrilled to have this traditional step done right. Now on to planning the perfect proposal location away from prying eyes ...

After scouring options, Max selects a peaceful mountaintop in the Swiss Alps. Complete with luxury chalet just for the two of you — intimate but romantic.

Max painstakingly decorates it with flowers, candles, and photos of your relationship throughout the years. For the ring, he chooses two large natural diamonds in an unique asymmetrical setting, symbolic of two imperfect halves making a flawless whole.

Now fully prepared, Max just has to wait for your upcoming vacation to pop the question. He spends the days leading up to it buzzing with nervous excitement.

The helicopter ride to the mountain is pure torture for him. What if you say no? What if he fumbles the proposal speech? Endless doubts race through Max’s mind.

But as soon as he sees your delighted smile taking in the warmly lit cabin, his anxiety melts away. This evening is about letting his heart speak.

Through a private chef-cooked dinner, your laughter echoes in the chalet just like it always sounds. Full of joy and life and love.

Max knows that he’s ready.

Taking your hand gently, he leads you outside onto the moonlit balcony. Time to finally ask you to be his forever.

Max clears his throat, meeting your eyes. “Y/N, from the moment I met you, my world changed. Your smile and your light fill my days with meaning. You make me a better man.”

He slowly kneels, pulling out the ring box with trembling fingers. “I want to laugh with you, cry with you, share every high and low for the rest of our lives. Will you make me the luckiest man in the universe by becoming my wife?”

You clasp a hand over your mouth, eyes glimmering with tears. You only manage to get out a watery “Yes!” before also dropping to your knees in front of him.

Grinning ear to ear, Max slides the ring onto your finger with a kiss. “I promise to always love and cherish you.”

“And I promise the same to you, today and always.”

You throw your arms around him, both giddy with joy under the stars.

The customs that got you to this moment may have been old-fashioned but your love is timeless.

1K notes · View notes

natailiatulls07 · 9 months

Text

Sleeping Beauty

2023 formula one grid & female!driver!reader

Summary - A compilation of Y/n L/n falling asleep in random places at random times

Warning - nothing really lol

charles_leclerc

F1 get together got to boring for her apparently

Tagged: yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55 and 679,467 others

landonorris I won the bet!! Pay up Mr Oscar Piastri 😌

= oscarpiastri Dammit!

= username Them making bets on her sleep is the best thing I've seen all day!!

yourusername In my defence, it was really boring lol

= charles_leclerc Wait sorry don't blame me, you went out the night before

danielricciardo Apparently she didn't want to go swimming with us

= maxverstappen1 Apparently so...

yourbestfriendsusername

Drunk and tired, the usual 😑

Liked by lewis hamilton and 367,674 others

georgerussell63 How does she do it?! 😟

maxverstappen1 This girl needs to realise her tips beacuse I can't sleep for shit!!

pierregasly With her dior blanket, she's a proper princess!

= danielricciardo Formula ones very own sleeping beauty 👸

landonorris

I was invited for dinner but when I arrived she was in her usual state, asleep 🙄

Liked by alex_albon and 679,254others

lewishamilton This girl is just a different breed 🤯

danielricciardo Don't wake her up, draw something on her face lol 😏

charles_leclerc All that sleeping made her tired

username I'm just amazed by how she can sleep anytime anywhere 😳

= oscarpiastri I found her sleeping in the middle of the grid before the race in silverstone!! Totally unbothered!

= username The real fucking sleeping beauty!! I love her

yourusername

Damn I miss my bed 🥺

Liked by carlossainz55 and 865,968 others

yourbestfriendsusername Even whilst pursuing her dream she wants her bed

landonorris I really need to see what hype is about with this bed

= username thats suspicious...thats weird 😯

pierregasly She doesn't miss her friends or family, she misses her bed

username I love this girl so much 😂

username she is so fucking relatable!! I love it! 😍

#charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #carlos sainz #pierre gasly #oscar piastri #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #lando norris #george russell #alex albon #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #formula one #charles leclerc x reader #formula one x reader

3K notes · View notes

agendabymooner · 4 months

Text

SOMETHING FULFILLED !!! MARK W. X FEM!READER X FERNANDO A. (18+)

summary: after struggling to figure out what to get, mark and fernando decided that they should just simply fulfill their daughter's wish with the help of their wife, y/n.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), holiday special, dilf!fernando and dilf!mark (and milf!reader), threesome (mfm), unprotected sex, fingering, breeding/impregnation kink, mentions of pregnancy, double penetration (i'll let you use ur imaginations), established poly relationship, i did not edit this.

note: what if i fell into a writer's block but god said "you've written a jenson and seb threeway smut but not webbonso smut yet?" (on my grid sluts shit) enjoy and happy holidays xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

mark and fernando would go through the lengths of fulfilling their kid’s christmas wishes. they would always do anything for their little girl.

it was cute, really but oftentimes, even y/n found that they had spoiled her a little too much.

the parents had been wondering what to get their little daughter, ava alonso-webber, as she continued to grow as her independent self. her mother had decided that she was big enough to decide what she would like for holidays.

meanwhile, the fathers had decided that ava was not old enough to not be spoiled. after all, mark and fernando only had one child with their wife and little ava was only six.

y/n merely hissed at them when they gave ava a go ahead on her request and said, “don’t go overboard with her gift this year. no puppies anymore.”

both mark and fernando shrugged before ava exclaimed, “i want a baby sibling, papì and daddy!”

now, their wife wasn’t a miracle worker— but to try and change ava’s mind about her gift for christmas was something she shouldn’t have done.

mark and fernando were quick to frown at this before their wife continued to avoid that conversation for the next month all while attempting to convince ava into getting something more… manageable.

ava had eventually decided that dolls and more karting time with her dads were enough. ava’s mother was more than relieved that the little girl had relented and moved on.

the dads, the brooding fathers, were a different story. in fact, when y/n arrived from work a week before christmas, she was surprised to find the house quiet. the only thing she could hear was soft music playing in the background. she was really worried she had to sneak the toys into the bedroom without ava noticing.

but the little girl wasn’t there. instead, both mark and fernando were sitting in the living room with the recorded premier league game on.

y/n’s eyes narrowed at the sight of her husbands and asked, “uh, did we just magically lose a child before we’ve spent hours and money on her gifts or…?”

mark and fernando looked at her. then the australian spoke, “oh, hey babe. ava’s staying overnight with her cousins.”

“and we agreed on this when…?” she raised a brow in return, walking over the two nonetheless to press kisses on their lips. fernando pulled her into his lap as mark moved closer.

“now,” fernando murmured, his lips opting to attack her neck as she let out a soft sigh.

mark tipped her head towards his direction before kissing her, his tongue allowing itself to tangle with hers as he hummed in satisfaction. he nearly smirked at the feeling of her breath running out as she moaned.

“we’ve been trying to get you to talk to us about something,” fernando started, his breath fanning her ear as goosebumps broke out her skin in both nervousness and excitement.

“about…” she murmured, eventually pouting when mark tugged her hair back as she got eager to make out with him. mark gave her a stern look.

fernando then nipped at her ear as she let out a gasp before he answered with, “what our little princess wanted.”

it was as if the floodgates were opened, her arousal making her squirm in their hold as mark crooned, “you were so adamant about not giving her what she really wanted, baby. why’s that?”

“i- i,” she gulped. she really wasn’t able to answer especially now that she was being tossed back and forth between the two.

she could feel their hands roaming and touching her, gasping at the feeling of fernando’s fingers as they slowly snaked their way down into her lace panties. fernando then cooed mockingly, “you’re so fucking wet, cariño. you know what we think?”

“h- ngh,” she whimpered, unable to utter any more words as her husbands chuckled darkly.

“we think,” fernando’s tongue glided down her throat and sucked her skin, leaving a mark on her neck as he continued, “that you want to give us a baby too. a baby sibling for our little girl.”

“and you don’t want to tell us,” mark added, smirking at the sight of their wife writhing. y/n was already long gone, feeling extremely aroused just by having her husbands work her up like this.

y/n gasped aloud, hearing her cunt making squelching noises as fernando slid his fingers in and curled up against her sensitive spot.

“how about we give you more babies to grow, hm?” mark murmured, kissing her hard as he slid her shirt off and tossed it someplace else. “we’re gonna fuck more babies into you until you’re full of them.”

she nodded eagerly, writhing against the two of them as she begged wordlessly.

fernando and mark smirked and looked at each other, as if they had every intention to fulfill their goal with the help of their perfect pretty wife.

their cocks had been doing their back and forths in her cunt, her walls stretched out due to its familiarity with their lengths as she whined loudly, sinking repeatedly as she kept her hands resting on fernando’s chest.

the two men groaned aloud, mark grabbing a handful of her hair and tugging it lightly as his hips snapped behind her. “oh fuck,” he uttered, fucking his cock into her as she babbled incoherently.

“te ves tan bonita como siempre, cariño,” you look so pretty as always, darling. fernando cursed out as he thrusted his hips up. he muttered, “tan guapa, tan jodida así.” so pretty looking so fucked out like this.

“mm— fuck, please,” y/n flinched at the feeling of mark’s fingers pinching on her nipple and fernando’s thumb rubbing her clit simultaneously. she yelped in pleasure, her eyes tearing up as she wailed, “want you two to cum in me— fuck, nando- mark!”

“want us to cum inside you, yeah?” mark spoke breathlessly, the two men increasing their pace and intensity as she nodded against his chest. “can’t wait to see you full of me and fernando again, sweetheart.”

“and these tits, fuck, hermosa,” fernando groaned, “can’t wait to see it full of milk again. you’re gonna look so fucking hot when you’re pregnant.”

“like she did before when she had our little girl,” mark added with a chuckle, eventually groaning as he said, “you’re gonna make us so happy- you’re gonna make our little girl happy, baby.”

“m- i want your cum, please,” she pleaded, her walls clenching as the men both groaned in pleasure. “fuck me harder! shit~ fill me up-“

“you want us to fuck you full, hm?” fernando moaned, now fucking her harder from the bottom as he continued, “fuck- i’m cumming, hermosa. hah~ fuck!”

“oh~ hah,” mark groaned in her ear as he shot his load inside her. fernando did too, slowly thrusting and coating her cunt white like mark did.

y/n whimpered, her body limping against fernando as the three of them eased off their orgasms. her body shook violently between the two of them before she took a deep breath and wiped her sweat off her forehead.

she then looked at fernando and chuckled, pressing a kiss on his lips once more before moving to his side. mark had returned from the bathroom to clean her off.

she pursed her lips as she said, “would it be too late if i say that we didn’t need fuck like rabbits to get pregnant?”

mark nearly dropped the damp towel and looked at fernando with widened eyes. fernando returned the surprised look as y/n laughed quietly.

“oh you are horny, baby,” mark laughed with her, pressing a kiss on her lips, his hands hovering on her stomach before he pressed a kiss on it.

fernando shared a kiss with her too before asking, “are you really?”

“i am,” she grinned. “i was going to show you two when i got home but you got excited. i couldn’t tell you two i was pregnant because you two were all over me.”

“oh fuck! finally,” mark exclaimed, grinning at fernando and their wife.

“that’s one christmas gift ticked off the list for ava,” fernando laughed. “someone’s gonna be happy that her christmas is fulfilled.”

oh, the lengths that they’d go through just to spoil their kid.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129

#fernando alonso smut #mark webber smut #fernando alonso imagine #mark webber imagine #formula one imagine #formula one smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #fa14 #mw2 #fernando alonso #mark webber #♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut #fernando alonso x reader #mark webber x reader #formula 1 #formula one x reader

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ozarkthedog · 6 months

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summary: despite your reluctance, joel wants to fill you up.

kinktober ii: cnc + breeding

warnings: 18+ only -> mdni. Joel Miller x afab!reader. consensual non consent. threat of breeding. rough sex. asphyxiation. slight mention of aftercare. no beta.

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: per this post and @thornsnvultures sliding into my DMs with this thot. probably not my best but i'm posting it anyways. 🤷‍♀️

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

He missed the power. The control. The brutality.

The topic had been discussed only once but the point was clear. Joel did not want to raise a child in this new, horrific world.

Settling down in Jackson with you had been good for him. The boring monotony of day-to-day life. It wasn’t just surviving. It was making something out of nothing, growing together. Helping your fellow man; not just stealing from him (or worse).

Still, that unsettling need would return from time to time. It’d take root in the base of his skull like one of the countless bullets he’d left in his victims. The savagery beckoned him like a gnat scratching at the surface. The urge to claim sinking its fangs in once again.

Normally he’d go on a long hunt. Seek out unseemly folk and leave a path of destruction in his wake. This morning, however, a storm brewed outside. The windows glitter with a layer of frost as the wind howls through Jackson.

You flinch awake. Trepidation settling in your belly. You know this feeling. You’ve been here many times before. You’ll stay by Joel’s side until your last breath. So you do what you’ve both discussed; wait.

A brute hand forces you onto your front. A gasp falls from your lips as a heavy weight settles on your back. Your lungs seize under the pressure making blood pulse behind your eyes.

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Joel sneers. He drags the hook of his nose up the side of your face, smiling as you struggle to suck a breath in. “Got you right where I want cha’, pretty girl.”

You jab an elbow back hoping to clip his jaw but he easily cages in it a steely grip. He yanks your left arm out from under your body with a dark chuckle and roughly secures your wrist in one of his large palms.

“I like ‘em feisty.” he grits, dipping his head down and brushing his lips along the shell of your ear. “Gets my blood pumping” he drawls, a sick grin tugging at his lips. “and something else too.”

He shifts his weight, lessening the pressure on your upper body, and grids his hard cock against your ass. You instinctively twist in his grip, bucking your hips and tugging on his hold. Joel hollers above you, “Yeah, that’s it. Show me how tough you are, sweet girl.”

You whine, knowing there is no way out. He was much too strong. Still, it was part of the game.

“You know, it’ll be better for you if you just give in.” the warm, soothing words flutter into your brain calming your heart for just a brief moment.

You know what he’s capable of. You’ve seen the brutality, the rage but you also know about the quiet side. The way he holds your hand when you walk into town. The soft eyes he gives you when you cuddle into his side. The way he’s so tender with you when he cradles your face in his hands.

“Wanna fill you up.” Joel murmurs. Pulling your right knee up to your chest before sliding a large hand along the apex of your sex. “That’s my pretty pussy.” he groans as he drags a lazy finger up the slice of you. “Can never get enough of it.” he coos into your hair before kissing the top of your spine. “Of you.”

“Joel- no, please.” you whimper, shaking your head. “You can’t.”

He “tsks” behind you. A brute hand catches the back of your neck and digs his digits into the tender column. Warm breath brushes the shell of your ear as he leans in close. “You think you’re in a position to call the shots? Stupid girl.”

A gasp catches in your throat when he taps the heavy tip of his cock on your barely wet opening. He notches the bulbous crown just past your folds before sliding in ever so slowly. He takes his time filling you up. He wants this to last. Doesn’t want to know where he begins and you end.

Your core envelopes the weight and size of him. Molding around his thick length until you’re busting at the seams. “Thatta’ girl.” Joel grits through clenched teeth as your velvet walls make room for him. His cock brushes your cervix with a brazen kiss as he bottoms out making you wince.

His fingers dance cruelly on the crux of your mound, tugging on the hair that grows earning him a sharp cry before moving south. He circles your clit with expertise, knowing your body better than you did. A dense knot of unsavory pleasure forms in your belly, slowly growing tighter with every flick of his wrist.

He finally rocks his hips and the air punches from your lungs. He sets a constant motion, sawing his length in and out. In and out. From his bulbous tip to the soaked base of his shaft, he takes. He defiles.

Joel tugs your body close, wrapping his left arm around your font and splaying between your breasts effectively caging you against his broad form. “You feel so fuckin’ good, sweet girl.”

He grinds his cock deep after a weighty thrust, pushing his hips against the cushion of your ass. “Gonna fill you up.” he grunts, snapping his hips and pressing into the deepest part of you. “Make ya all round. Leave ya a drippin’ mess.”

Joel’s hips snap hard. It forces the air from your lungs and shakes your bones. If it weren’t for his hold you would’ve rolled to the other side of the bed.

A pathetic mewl tumbles from your lips, anxiety boiling over. “Joel, no!” you cry, praying he pulls out before it’s too late.

Without thinking, you toss your head back and catch the top of his brow, bruising his eye socket with a curt blow.

The room goes eerily still. The man behind you is deathly silent as your heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s trying to break free from your chest.

A heavy hand circles your neck and tugs you backward. Your neck is instantly constricted, barely allowing any air to pass by under his palm. He pins your head against his shoulder forming his large, powerful frame against your shivering one. “Wrong fuckin’ move.”

Ice runs up your spine, chilling your insides to the bone as his fingers press on your veins, seeking out the one that makes you comply every time you try to revolt.

"Just for that, I'm gonna keep fuckin' ya after I fill you up." he sneers. "Make sure it sticks."

Blood pounds under your skin as the room spins. Your sight glazes over while he shoves his cock past your walls as they involuntarily clench around his girth from the rough treatment.

His cock swells, bigger and bigger with every drive. “Shit.” he hisses, clutching your throat just a bit tighter as his hips stutter. A black mist slowly begins to crowd your sight, your eyes roll backward, mind and body go numb.

In a flash, he loosens his grip on your neck and pulls from your warmth, circling his shiny, soaked cock with a tight grip. He pumps his length, chasing his high before coming with a raspy moan and spilling hot ropes along the curve of your ass.

A heavy blanket of silence falls over the room while Joel catches his breath. He feels the rage melting away as his heart slowly beats to its usual rhythm. That all-consuming need has been stamped out. For now.

In a moment, he’ll scoop you into his arms and leave a soft kiss on the crown of your head. He’ll hum words of love while you relax against his chest and eventually fall back to sleep.

You close your eyes and wait like you always do.

running away now. 😅 feel free to scream at me -> 💌

follow @ozzieslibrary for fic notifs!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miler x you #dark!joel miller #pedro pascal

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sugarsong · 2 months

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Finished Result for @lilaclulamoon for the Breeding Chart of Luna x Chrysalis! Really hope you like it! Check my account for all the details in my previous post to reserve a spot starting at $10 or click the link to my DeviantArt:

https://www.deviantart.com/ashley-the-muffin/art/Breed-Chart-Result-Luna-x-Chrysalis-1031362450

#art #mlp #digital art #mlp fim #breed grid #breed chart #next generation #ship kids #shipping #adoptable #commission #princess luna #queen chrysalis

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httpsserene · 7 months

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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!

carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.

shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.

the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.

regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.

the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously.

carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.

you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.

he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.

he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.

and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea.

little red riding hood.

it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well.

piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.

you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is.

you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch.

his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically.

“no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.

you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”

carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.

after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along.

after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.

“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”

you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes.

he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs.

“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”

you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”

carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard.

carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”

“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”

you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.

“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you…chase me.”

carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”

“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”

carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.

your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location.

you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.

the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.

he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.

it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him.

he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.

you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late.

you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.

carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.

carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head.

you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide.

he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.

carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape.

he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.

“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists, to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs.

you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.

“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”

carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”

you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.

carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.

carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed.

his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.

carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it.

his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval.

your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”

carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.

carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him.

he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you.

carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.

moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling.

you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos—yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.

he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.

carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear.

rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.

all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”

carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.

carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.

your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.

carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”

abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg.

“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”

carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum.

carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted.

carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.

your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can.

you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”

carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”

your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”

carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“

“carlos!”

“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“

“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”

he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.

“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”

you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.

the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight.

“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez

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mphountitled · 3 months

Text

𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫

Pairings: Ghostface!Anton x fem!Reader | Shotaro x fem!reader

Warnings: Language, Slasher!AU, Violence, Body Insecurity, Stalking, Virgin!Anton, Stoner!Shotaro, Recreational Drug Use, Cheating Implied, Catholic Imagery, Horror Elements, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), Dark fic, Inexperienced!Anton, Voyeurism, Stalking, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, CNC, Dub/Con, Dacryphilia, Degradation Kink, Impact Play, Slight Bondage, Unprotected Sex, Mask Kink, Primal Play, Knife Kink, Blood Kink, PIV, Mutual Virginity Loss, Breeding Kink, Choking, Spitting, Forced Orgasm, Forced Breeding

Read the warnings. I'm serious. I'm not responsible for your feelings about this.

You had absolutely no excuse.

Instead of pouring your attention into the gorgeous man peppering hot kisses down the side of your mouth, your gaze is planted on the casement window over Shotaro's broad, ruddy shoulder. And while he assaults your skin with a rain of sloppy, inebriated kisses, you can't help but let your mind wander as you think: it always seemed particularly sexist, that the boys’ dorm rooms had such a vast and expansive view of the city whereas the girl's dormitory was smack bang in the city centre on the other side of the district.

Perhaps not the best thoughts to be having while your study partner (and the college plug) was desperately trying to assimilate some kind of foreplay. Tiny cars strung along the streets created arteries of the city, as if the entire grid was a sentient being. It had the power to take anyone's breath away, but, the loveable, oblivious airhead above you, was very comfortable in the knowledge that your shortness of breath was all because of him…

"Has anyone told you that you're literally so hot?” You had learned pretty early on in your collegiate career that anytime a man veneered his words with this much of a slur, the chances that he was being honest was incredibly slim... But then again, since when has honesty really been a defining male characteristic?

“Thanks, you too.” You whispered back with your eyes still firmly locked on the window. If only the city could be your lover

“I actually didn't expect you to be this kind of girl.”

Every single thing this guy said made your lady boner grow so horribly flaccid by the second. If he didn't penetrate your hymen soon you might be in dire need of artificial lubrication (which your roommate assured you was the very worst thing that could happen.)

“You just always seemed like the type to keep her head down,” Shotaro presses a surprising kiss to the very centre of your swollen lips. Your sudden influx of excitement at the action, not only leaves you partially relieved, but his hands digging firmly into the sides of your jeans is enough to reassure you that perhaps you weren't a raging asexual as you might have initially thought (and hoped).

“It isn't a bad thing, baby…" He continues to whisper as his plump lips find a particularly sensitive area behind your ear.

This was getting good…

“Just the thought that behind all that corduroy,” A kiss, “And pretentiousness," Another kiss, “And those undeniable book smarts,” His hand is cold to the touch as it slips beneath your woolen sweater, digging into your hip and wrenching an undeniable gasp from the bottom of your thoat, “I didnt think there was a nasty little slut so desperate to get fucked.”

Shotaro pulls back to admire your panting frame locked between his haphazard sheets and his exposed upper body. The sight of his red rimmed, droopy eyes and lazy smile glowing in the city’s technicolour spilling in through the window released in you, excitement and overpowered by an immediate feeling of insecurity.

“I like discovering people's secrets,” Shotaro grins before picking up his discarded jointcand taking one, long, sweltering drag. He leans down and your lips almost give way automatically, until he's blowing the smoke right into your mouth.

A groan mixes with a giggle leaves his mouth, and Shotaro presses your foreheads together before straightening back up, “I'm so hard right now,” He shakes his head before making quick work of killing the lit blunt and discarding it, somewhere in this room.

Shotaro lifts your shirt slowly, revealing the string of colourful beads dotted around your waist.

“It’s cultural,” You begin to quickly say,

“And fucking hot.” He concludes with a carnivorous grin before attaching his lips to your lower abdomen.

The air is vacuumed cleanly out of your lungs as your fingers find Shotaro hair.

He undoes your buttons while you feel the sudden inexplicable need to keep a firm eye on the open doorway leading out to the shadowy hallway. You vaguely know of a roommate yet you have no idea why Shotaro decides to keep the door open. However, the intensity in the idea of being caught spurs you both on.

If only you knew that the threat was not so hypothetical.

If only you knew that the pair of eyes you think you see lurking in the darkness is not, in fact, a mirage birthed from your overcast, sex-filled brain, but it's real.

And he sees you. And he is so undeniably disappointed in you for letting your natural instincts fall prey to such an utter predator like Shotaro. If only you knew that he saw you, even when you were seated in the very back of your Literature class. Never raising your hand but always mumbling along to a quote by Mary Shelley or Henry James, while the professor awaited the correct response from the rest of the class. Anton had always seen you, in spite of your shyness not despite it. It is from your wit alone and that narrowed look in your eye that has him tugging on his dick faster, while Shotaro begins to eat you out with fervour.

Anton nearly mewls at the thought of it being him between your thighs, wrenching those excited moans out of your pretty little throat. That throat that he would long ago have had locked in his fist while his fingers stabbed your pussy repeatedly and his lips danced against your soft, swollen, overstimulated little clit,

“Oh-fuck-” Anton blanched as his cum spurted all over his hand still stroking frantically at his cock. His mind was flooded with all the unassuming images of you he had saved on a private folder in his phone. Images of you biting your pen in a particularly boring lecture. Images of one of your braids hanging out the side of your mouth as you jotted down whatever you jotted down with such animation on your laptop. Every single fun and crazy hairstyle you wore on campus, slinking into the background thinking no one noticed but of course he did.

Of course he did.

“Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-” Ethan slapped a hand against his open mouth, ebbing away his hoarse and desperate whispers as he delved further into the shadows. His wet curls bounced as his back hit the wall.

Before he lost sight of you for whoever knows how long, Anton made sure to look at you one final time before slipping away, down the hall to his own room just as Shotaro turned his head around in apparent alarm.

“Did you hear that?”

You most certainly did hear that but for the purpose of achieving your first orgasm that was not self-inflicted you dumbly say, “Heard what?”

“It sounded like-'' Shotaro's sentence is cut short by a loud and oppressive Drake tune that cuts through the charged silence. In a matter of seconds the boy abandons your exposed vagina in search of his phone displaying a profile picture of a brunette. You were once again losing your lady boner at dramatic altitudes, especially as Shotaro began to pull a shirt over his head and fumble around the room for his shoes.

“Something really bad came up,” He says as he drops the phone and backs away towards the doorway “Could we reschedule?”

What else could you have said to that? 'Could you please penetrate my hymen first before jumping to your girlfriend’s beck and call?'

“Of course. That’s perfectly fine." Even though it most certainly was not fine and your heart is plummeting as you pull your pants up with a nagging voice in your head telling you that 'You couldn't even hold a man's attention when he was greeted with the promise of sex. How pathetic could you get? Really.'

"I don't know how comfortable I feel letting you walk the streets alone so late at night, though,” an intense discomfort comes over the boy. It looks unnatural. “Especially with all those…” Shotaro trails off and you roll your eyes before sliding off his bed.

“You can say murders," you reply.

While Shotaro stands in the centre of the room, rubbing aimlessly at the back of his neck, you can't help but feel your attraction wane with his apparent and unmistakable idiocy.

"And anyway, that's okay. I'm not exactly the target of any murderer's affections." Not even yours.

You begin to gather your things, dead set on the idea of hiding out in your dorm room for the foreseeable week until the weight of this rejection is lifted. "I'll be quick."

"No, please, I insist." He says, ushering you out into the hallway before jogging past you. You wait idly in the short corridor with your backpack slung lazily over one shoulder as you overhear Shotaro burdening you onto his roomate.

While you wait, your legs are restless as your feet shuffle underneath you. That would've been all well and good if you didn't lift your Converse to see a murky white smudge on the wooden floor. Your eyes squint to better make out the stain in such horrible lighting but you're bombarded by a new pair of footsteps and a retreating Shotaro who screams as he leaves, "I'd feel much better if Anton walked you home!"

"So Anton will walk you home." The quietest voice comes from the quiest boy you think you've ever met. A small, almost shy smile flits across his face as the front door slams shut.

︰ ୨୧︰

Awkwardness settles when you run the risk of what is very clearly two introverts being forced to bare each other's presence. You had been walking alongside Anton Lee for 2 blocks and not once has either of you chosen to thaw away at the silence with a refreshing joke or some sliver of lightheartedness. No…

Everything feels so particularly heavy.

"We could cut through the park," Your voice sounds foreign even to your own ears, "It's the quickest way to my building."

Anton only replies with a small imperceptible 'sure' as the trees grow more dense around you, and the near constant New York bustle begins to wane.

"I'm sorry, you had to do this," With the sound of the city centre slipping through the space around you, you're compelled to fill the silence somehow. "I'm sorry for putting you out of your way."

The very next thing to happen not only surprises you but it sets off an equally surprising spell of warmth in the pit of your stomach as Anton throws his dark haired head back in a flurry of warm-hearted chuckles.

You immediately find his smile dazzling. It's so wide and all encompassing. Big teeth, big nose and scrunched up, enjoyment-filled eyes.

"I think I might've killed Shotaro myself if he let another one of his 'study buddies' walk home alone." He looks down at you through the corner of his eye, without ever once turning his head.

Only then do you take note of the sheer size of him. You could've easily been walking down this path with one of these dense trees.

"Very surprising that so many people like him, actually." Despite waging a war with his instinctive need to feel shy and reserved Anton cannot help but feel his natural inhibitions melt when he finally has you so close beside him.

"Very surprising that you like him…"

"I don't think I like Shotaro." You begin, "Not really." You make sure to keep your gaze trained on your shoes as you shuffle down the stoney path. Around you, midnight joggers, and crazy men high on various substances wander the park like forgotten apparitions.

"Yeah, Taro doesn't seem like someone you should hangout with." You raise a questioning eyebrow up at him.

Anton backtracks and fights to string along a functioning sentence, "Uh… I-Um-just mean, from what I gathered in our shared classes together-well, you're really smart! And Taro is…"

“-A mass of brainless brawn with zero wit and zero social skills outside of getting high and fucking?" You conclude for him, only earning another laugh from Anton that has your stomach warming once again.

“Remind me why you were about to have sex with him?" Anton fought hard to stuff down his vexation as the words left his mouth but to no avail. "I know what goes on when Shotaro brings people over to ‘study’."

You notice the vehemence with which he utters those words but you choose to not respond to it.

“Well I'm catholic," You begin, as you both cut through the trees, "And as much I pray to the Holy Mother, as much as I love and respect her, I have no interest in ending up like her

“Immaculate and deified?"

“A virgin.” You are unaware that your reply has Anton's gaze snapping towards you. Silence once again grows pregnant between the two of you as you walk. You begin to regret being so candid with a complete stranger.

"Ugh- I shouldn't have said that-"

"Hey, do you wanna play tag at all?" You're caught off guard by his sudden proposal, but he makes no move in explaining further as he continues to walk coolly, his graphic shirt flapping in the wake of a gust of warm summer wind.

"What?"

"What if you ran," He shrugs, "And I tried to find you?” You can only look up at him with a questioning smile before he shakes his head furiously,

“Or not," He murmurs, his hands curling by his sides. "It's just, cardiovascular exercise might help improve your mood right now. You could run and I'd try to catch you and maybe it might help you forget but that's so stupid and I'm sorry-"

But you've already begun backing up. The park is filled with your happy giggles as you push the boy to the ground yelling "YOU'RE IT!" Before breaking off into the darkness collected amongst the trees. Your feet are set alight with motion, and your blood charges with newfound energy rolling through your arteries. This truly is the most alive you've felt in a really long time and you're quite embarrassed you hadn't thought of running by yourself.

You throw your head back, welcoming a gust of wind into your lungs. The skyscrapers peeking up from between the trees are quiet spectators.

Your eyes have begun to adjust to the darkness just as the very first spell of tiredness wash over you but you charge on, filled by excitement and that innate childhood need to 'never get caught'.

"You need to be faster than that," a voice giggles from between the trees, only spurring you further into the darkness. Your once airy, carefree laughs have grown into tired pants as you feel the weight of your backpack on your shoulder and the first strains in your thighs. Your hair whips around you like the wayward petals of dandelions as you split through a grassy clearing.

You decide to take your break with your hands locked on your knees as you frantically survey the space around you. All appears calm but the inclination that this boy is much faster than you, has you beginning your sprint again.

"Fucking, fuck exercise!" You're panting heavily now and your gait has slowed down significantly however, you're surprised that the tiredness is not the only feeling coursing through your body right now but…

"Try harder." You hear this whisper from an unidentifiable location around you. Like a madman, you begin to grow utterly unsure of what you just released.

Complete and unadulterated fear.

"H-Hey, Anton!? I don't wanna play-" You place a hand on your heart, "I don't wanna play anymo-"

But a flash of black has already attacked you from the side, tackling you into the ground and leaving you completely winded. You try to wrestle him off of you but his knees lock on the ground as he straddles you. Your movements stop when you gaze up at Anton - or who you really hoped was Anton.

"Where'd you find time to change?" You ask, bring your hand up in an attempt to paw the Ghostface mask on his hidden visage. "Jesus, Anton, this isnt funny. Haven't you seen the news?"

You're wriggling and writhing underneath him but he doesn't move. His weight is practically as concrete as that of a cinder block on top of you, and there is virtually no way you're fighting him off. It takes all of 60 seconds of futile struggling to realise something was utterly wrong.

"Fuck-" The panic expands in your lower belly, flooding your insides with fear until it inflates and pours out of your mouth.

"HELP!" You cry, "SOMEBODY! PLEASE FUCKING HELP ME- PLEASE-PLEASE FUCKING HELP ME!" You begin to cry real tears as you whip your head to the side in search of park wanderers only to find absolutely no one. The man above you quickly secures his hand over your mouth, collecting your rolling tears.

"Fuck yes…" You can hear his whispers through the mask as he lowers his head until his face is close to yours. You're quick in turning your head away from this monster on top of you but his hand on your wrist only snaps up to plug your nose shut.

Anton has your mouth and your nose covered in a horrible display of strength and danger. Your arms flail wildly around you and you're pretty sure you remember thinking the very frightening, very concrete thought that this is the moment your soul leaves this world.

But death does not open her arms to you, instead, you're furiously gasping in the fresh air that he allows you to have.

"Now I'm going to tell you one more time that yelling is allowed, baby. It's actually preferred, but, just not too loud okay?" You're nodding frantically once Anton uncovers a jagged blade from beneath the black robe. It cuts a menacing glint through the moonlight and you're only able to whine as the blade is aimed at your jugular while Anton's other hand lowers to explore the vastness of your clothed body.

"Youre gonna play my helpless victim alright-oh fuck, you're so pretty, you know that?." It's all so incredibly muffled from beneath the mask but the urgency in his tone has your legs squeezing together underneath him and your eyes squeezing shut in stark embarrassment of your actions. How absolutely sick of you to feel turned on in this very moment? Potentially more turned on then you might have been with Shotaro, in fact.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay. I'll take care of you," the blade taps lightly at the side of your face, urging your wet eyes open only to reveal a blurry distorted image of the Ghostface above. "I'm honoured to be your first, okay?" You're only able to wail helplessly into his gloves as his other hand undoes the buttons of your cargo pants.

Anton rips your pants off like a madman, failing to hide his urgency or his jittery, maniacal movements. He doesn't even have your pants down all the way before his hand is buried in your cunt.

"I've watched enough porn to know I'm supposed to get you ready. And while raping you may be what this looks like I have no intention of leaving you unsatisfied." He words are slurred as you feel his gloved fingers enter your soaked vagina.

"You're already wet?" He remarks in complete disbelief as he uncovers his hand from the confines of your ruined panties. The Ghostface mask is lifted and discarded somewhere behind him only to reveal a painting boy with wild curls and wide eyes. He gazes at the arousal in awe, raising it up into the moonlight as he moves his fingers around it. Your breath shudders as Anton instinctively places those fingers directly in his mouth. He moans around them, before gazing down at your glistening cunt.

"I need you." He begins to plead as his voice cracks and his eyebrows curve inwards, "Please, I need you so bad." The knife is momentarily released from your throat as he sits back on his haunches. Anton rips his gloves off with his teeth before eagerly delving underneath his own robes to shove his hands down his sweatpants. You watch dazed as he jerks off above you, never once stopping his helpless cries. Cries that make the ache between your legs grow hotter and heavier, and your breathing once again picks up as you gaze up at him.

"A-Anton?" Your own voice cracks in the wake of not only your arousal but by the way you were crying your lungs out just a second ago.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"Please fuck me." He does not waste even a second more before he's shuffling off of you. Another yelp eases out of your throat as Anton pulls your hips towards his in a surprising display of strength before wrenching your legs apart. Without removing your panties any further Anton frantically uncovers his dick from inside his sweatpants. He mewls over and over again as he clenches the materials of his robe in his teeth before pistoning his cock through the folds of your virgin cunt.

You scream ruggedly into the air, exposing your throat to him as your back arches and your pussy cries out in pain. His cock rams unapologetically into your cunt as he lowers his head to your neck. He is crying, you begin to note as he fucks you relentlessly. He's fucking crying and its turning you on.

"Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful." He coos in your ear, only causing another wave of arousal to lubricate your pussy. "You're so fucking pretty and I promise I'd do anything for you. I'd do anything for this. To feel your pussy around my cock like this. I'd fucking kill someone for it-"

"My fucking God, Anton!" Your throat is hoarse from all your gasping and the immense pain is yet to subside but his words bring you a pleasure you've never ever felt. A pleasure you've never been able to feel on your own.

You pull him down into a sudden kiss which he melts into, his hips rutting into yours as if his cock can't get enough of the friction. Your own pain subsides, as you lift your hips to meet his shallow strokes and you're quickly approaching euphoria. This, you realise, is the feeling you've been missing. Rubbing your cunt underneath your covers in the dead of night brought momentary pleasure but there has always been a need for more.

"I need to cum inside you, okay?" You can't say no, not when he's taken to wrapping his fist around your throat and spearing your cunt with his cock as if his very will to live depended on fucking you senseless.

"Fucking slut- tell me to cum inside you!" And then his grip loosens and he's frantically slapping at your cheeks, "Please baby. Please, my pretty, pretty girl." It's utterly deranged, his moods lifting and falling and morphing and changing. It only brings you further to the edge to be so uttericaly unsure around him. Whether he's gonna hurt you or love you.

"Please cum inside me. Oh fuck, please cum inside me!"

Anton's mouth hangs open as his thrusts become irregular. His body shakes from above you just as your insides are flooded with his warm cum. The fullness of it, has you placing a hand on your clit as you're cumming loudly around his cock, milking it for everything it's worth.

"FUCK-" You scream, completely overcome with mutlplie waves of euphoria as you stare up at him above you.

Your hooded eyes looked up at him like your personal god. Nothing feels better than what he has given you, nothing could be better than this. Anton gazes down at you with the very same reverence. His perfect little slut cumming so beautifully around his cock. It's better than he could've ever imagined.

"I wanna stay inside you forever." He whispers breathlessly before pushing a slobbering kiss to your mouth, a kiss you warmly return. "Me too." Is all you can reply.

"Was I supposed to rub your clit? I'm sorry." He says, noticing your hand has found your wet mound while his cock is still buried inside you.

He pushes your hand away to some slick off your clit causing you to face another wave of shivers.

A trail of blood runs down his fingers and he stares intently at it and then at you before he eases his cock out of your cunt and bends down to place a delicate kiss on your mound. His plump lips are painted red, your red.

"We're a team now, okay? A family."

#riize #riize x reader #anton #anton lee #anton lee x reader #lee anton x reader #anton smut #lee anton #lee anton smut #lee anton imagines #riize anton #riize x you #riize imagine #chanyoung x reader #lee chanyoung x reader #lee chanyoung #anton x reader #anton x you

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suckondescoconuts · 1 year

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Kʏᴏᴊᴜʀᴏ Rᴇɴɢᴏᴋᴜミ★

𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙽’𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝

𐦐ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕖𐦐 Ok, we ALL know that Rengoku has stamina and we ALL know he's pack-in, but most of us don't know is that he's not so much innocent.

I believe that he's rough and fast when having intercourse.

Definitely having ✨High sex drive✨.

That doesn't mean he isn't sweet and nice to you. He will praise and down right tell you how much he loves you, how much he's so happy to be with you.

I heard that the Hashira's have to use their breathing techniques 24/7, so meaning that Rengoku has to use his flame breathing techniques in the bedroom making himself last longer.

So be ready for those stamina's and restless nights because this man can go on for hours.

Kink wise I feel like he has a breeding kink going on, a praise kink, and overstimulation.

But at the end of it all, he will treat you like a princess and give you the absolute love you deserve.

Maybe he will give you a cup of water or bring you to the bath to wash up, but all you need to know is that he will treat you oh so good.

𐦐𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖𐦐

Rengoku got home from training while you were fast asleep in bed tired from all the house work you had to do that day. He walked to the bedroom to see you restless and sound asleep cuddling close to the pillows.

Rengoku was quick and quiet to get his komodo off, but when he was almost done taking his clothes off you woke up. You moved your head towards Rengoku, frowning a little, having your eyes look like they could shut any minute now.

"Rengoku, please come to bed...I miss you."

"I'm coming my little flame."

Rengoku stripped quickly, leaving him only in his underwear. He got in the futon laying right beside you, cuddling close, but you had other plans. You started to move your hips, gridding your ass against his crouch. You felt him getting hard, making him into a mess until he put his hands on your hips, stopping your teasing.

"Little flame, what are you doing?"Asking so innocently, like he didn't know what was going on even though you guys have done it many times.

"I want you Rengoku."

He started to smile more, if possible and said.

"As you wish my little flame."

He pulled your face towards him, kissing you on the lips while stripping you out of your clothes. You felt so hot, so heated, but you didn't want this to stop. You felt the cold air hit your hot skin making your nipples hard. You whimpered at the contact. You took your right hand and started to rub his hard on through his underwear, wanting him more. He groaned at the touch and took it off. His dick slapped against his stomach making a loud smack.

Rengoku pushed the blanket out of the way so he can have more freedom to touch and move. He lifted your legs, having his hands under your knees. He thrusted his dick into you. "Ahh~ Rengoku!"

He started to thrust fast and rough into you. Making you feel so much pleasure at once.

"I love-e you my little flame~," He said while looking into yours eyes "I want to have so much children with you, will you- fuck help me~?" "Yes, yes I will help you love!"

𐦐𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𐦐 <—— press here for the Twitter link

You felt something about to snap in your stomach and you knew what it was.

"Rengoku imma about to cum!"

"Then do it my little flame~"

And so you did.

But it didn't stop the flame Hashira, he kept going.

"I hope your ready my little flame because I'm no where done~"

𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂'𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓪 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓰𝓾𝔂𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓰 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓑𝓨𝓔

P.S. follow me on Wattpad, my name is @Ava873703, I post there more new stories then here

#kyn #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer smut #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku #rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku smut #rengoku smut #rengoku x y/n #suckondescoconuts #twt links #twitter links

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nocturni3 · 9 months

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Miguel O’Hara x male reader: Daddy appreciation

Top reader

(TW: incorrect Spanish I’m not a Spanish speaker sorry, praise kink, IVF reference, infertility issues, depression, infertility treatment, IVF struggles, fatherhood, anal sex, handjob, body worship, doggy style, becoming parents, celebrating, slight daddy kink, slight public teasing, slight car sex, edging, stomach bulge, breeding kink, submissive headspace)

Months passed since the two lovers became engaged and things couldn’t be better for them both. It was as though things were beginning to look up for both Miguel and M/n as they moved outside the city; away from the loud noises, most of the crime, the stresses of Miguel being spiderman.

After Tyler Stone vanished after his failed attempt at getting his CEO position back from Miguel, Alchemax was slowly turning into a big corporation that began to take the city's poor and lower classes protests seriously. A corporation that both M/n and Miguel could be proud to work for.

With the help of Miguel’s mother as his secretary much to both men’s surprise she was good at both being a threatening force and yet a silvered tongued negotiator. What’s more M/n’s department got more funding to extend a larger hand in downtown clinics and ERs providing them with the newest and safest tech during surgeries, and treating illnesses and diseases that had been neglected by Tyler Stone.

It allowed M/n to move all his major work as head of the medical engineering department to their home; it felt unreal as though this shouldn’t have been possible for Miguel to live happily in a loving relationship with a house, and a ring on both fingers. Spiderman was needed less and less as most of the villains that littered the city were falling back into the shadows with Alchemaxs change of CEO, the change needed for a better future for everyone.

Looking around his new and much larger office that Miguel shared with M/n; he sighs, taking off his tinted glasses as he shuts the hologram screen off; after signing off another approval for the start of a more powerful environmental power grid to be placed downtown. To help clean the pollution and gasses that permeated the air quality.

Rubbing his sore eyes Miguel sighed as he leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to breathe in the smell of M/n cooking them both an early lunch before their doctor appointment. An appointment they both were excited but scared to go too. After all it would be their 5th appointment of seeing if Miguel’s constant supplements had helped any with his sperm count; one of many side effects of his DNA being spliced with a spider. An effect he hated, despised so much that Miguel was losing hope with each failed test, with each failed attempt at fertilizing the donor's eggs; eggs that were running low with each failed appointment.

Miguel had his fair share of breakdowns as this was their best chance to have a kid, as M/n was deemed infertile the second round of IVF. A fact that had broken the two men; a hard fact that had all the pressure placed on Miguel which M/n tried his best to help Miguel through, but there was only so much his love and support to ease the pain and hole forming in Miguel’s chest each time they got the news of yet another failure.

Even with technically advancing the way it has been compared to the early versions of IVF in the early and mid 2000’s to now with the child being grown in a womb like environment eliminating the risk of miscarriage by a large margin.

There was only so much technology can fix when it came to a genetic code being altered in the way Miguel’s has. Only so much injections of enhanced vitamins could do for a body that was genetically modified, only so much it could fix an already broken-

“Miguel hun, lunch is ready! And your medicine too love

Miguel groaned, rubbing his face even more as the knot in his stomachs made it harder for him to want to eat anything. Made the decision to just ignore this one appointment to just wallow in his own self pity; maybe then Miguel wouldn’t need to take anymore injections. Resting his arms on the glass surface of his office table Miguel felt the tired, mental exhausted tears start to purs into his eyes as he tried his best to control the painful knot in his chest at the thought of this appointment being another nail in his self worth.

M/n looked at the still closed door of Miguel’s and his office. Seeing no sign of Miguel coming out M/n whipped his flour covered hands looking at the plate of hot steaming beef and veggie empanadas he had just finished cooking .

A recipe Conchata had given him after the two revealed their engagement to Miguel’s family; who all accepted the fact it was either accept the two for their love of the other or they’d lose Miguel for good.

M/n remembered holding Miguel’s hand throughout the entire exchange. He still held his finances hand through this difficult time in their lives; wanting to have a child to call their own. M/n despised not being about to take all the weight off of Miguel; he wished he could be the one going through the bull of the stress and pressure of these appointments.

But he wasn’t…he was completely infertile; the Lilly hood of him having a kid even with IVF was zero. The least he could do for Miguel was make him as comfortable as he could for as long as the both of them wanted to keep trying.

After all it was ‘through sickness or health, til death’; the ring on his finger made it all a reality. They were starting the next chapter of their lives together. The wedding was all set up, the venue paid for, their suits tailored and ready. They bought a house! But even that wasn’t enough for what their hearts truly craved for a child; a kid they could both raise and watch grow up with two loving parents; far from the toxic lives the both of them had to endure.

They just had to wait and hope that this appointment was anything but good news for them. Placing the dirty kitchen towel on the counter M/n dusted what was left of flours and spices on his shirt. Before making his way to the closed black door of their modern homes office.

A light knock echoed throughout the house as m/n waited with baited breath for Miguel to answer him. Give him time to regain his composure before m/n enters.

Lyla looked over to Miguel who quickly wiped away the stray tears that escaped his normally composed face. She saw how much the two wanted a kid, even going as far as to pick out names ahead of time while planning their wedding. Even though she was sentient now she was still very limited on what she could do to help.

“Miguel”

“Hm”

Lyla forced a smile as she appeared next to Miguel’s shoulder, leaning over to look into his eyes getting his attention.

“M/n made your favorite!”

Lyla smile widen seeing Miguel’s frown turn into a small smile, as he scoffs his face turning a shade of red as he once again mumbled,

“Shock, ¿qué hice para merecer a alguien como él?”

Lyla disappeared and reappeared, informing Miguel, smiling as she pulled at a holo pad tilting her glasses down on her nose as she spoke in a joking assertive voice.

“Ah well let’s see, you and hot stuff over there met, we’re friends for four years and in that same year became boyfriends, then from then on you two dated, kissed, kissed, oh wow looky! Nope, more kissing, proposal and now you two are trying for a kid!”

Lyla froze her small bit hitting a sore subject as she tossed the holo pad over her shoulder listening to it canish in pixels as she turned to see Miguel’s face turn hopeless once more.

“Trying and failing-“

Lyla quickly appeared in front of Miguel shushing him.

“Listen here! And listen closely Miguel, you're not failing! You and M/n aren’t failing at anything, you’ll see Miguel things will start looking up for the both of you-“

A soft knock at the door was heard as M/n’s voice spoke up. His voice was soft, calming, warm as he spoke to Miguel.

“Hun are you okay? Is it okay if I come in?”

Clearing his throat Miguel waved Lyla away who huffed as she disappeared to another part of the house, continuing her installment of security measures.

“You don’t have to ask, this is your office too”

The door Jared opens revealing m/n whose clothes even after his attempt at dusting them off still had flour sticking to his shirt. Miguel smiled at M/n who made his way into their shared office, his eyes falling on the old day of the dead costume now turned spiderman suit that now mostly stayed locked for the time being behind a glass case.

The memories of Miguel saving him from a hostage and mugging, the moments the both of them spent in the other's arms comforting the other. loving each other with all their heart; Looking over to Miguel who began to fidget slightly as he started getting up only for M/n to make his way over to the stressed out man in front of him, placing his hands to Miguel’s tensed shoulders gently pushing him back into the comfortable office chair. Before leaning over the man who's had too much stress placed on his shoulders.

Leaning down M/n smiled his lips grazing Miguel’s, as he spoke his own hands running down Miguel’s muscular shoulders to his thighs massaging the even more tensed muscles. His hot breath landed against Miguel’s now parted lips as his focus turned from the stresses of their appointment to a need for a taste of M/n.

Miguel took in his fiancés appearance, his s/c skin that always seemed to glow anytime Miguel layed eyes on him, his H/l H/c hair that always managed to fall in the right places to frame his handsome features just right; enough to take Miguel’s breath away even after all these years Miguel would somehow still be flustered by the man in front of him.

“I know, but I figured you needed some time to yourself, didn’t want to interrupt your work mr. Sexy CEO”

M/n purred, closing the distance between their lips. Miguel sighed, feeling his entire body feel lighter as his hands reached up to take hold of M/n’s jaw gently rubbing it as they kissed.

The rhythm they kissed, the soft yet yearning for the others lips even after they had pulled away left the two nearly breathless as they stared at the other.

M/n smiled, leaning his face into Miguel’s hand, his own reaching for Miguel’s as they simply took in the atmosphere of this moment. The smell of food filling the air reminded the two of the meal waiting for them. Miguel sighed his face that had once been soft and relaxed after so long of stress now tensed at the approaching appointment. Another disappointment-

M/n kissed Miguel’s temple, feeling the pulse of the stressed out man in front of him who’s heart was beating rapidly.

“I know that face hun; this appointment has to be good news-“

“And what if it isn’t!”

Miguel shut his mouth at his outburst, his eyes burning once more that the thought of their doctors telling the couple more bad news or worse she’d tell them Miguel's sperm fertility was just not improving…that.

“Hun, it’s not hopeless, shock don’t say that anything but that, please.”

M/n’s voice creaked, he shook his head shoving his own feelings down, focusing on what he should say to Miguel who was losing hope.

“What else should I say, Cada visita es solo una pérdida de tiempo. I want to raise a kid with you so badly; I want to have a normal family with no strings attached…but every time we try Esta maldita genética mutante todavía lo arruina todo!”

M/n wiped away Miguel’s tears, ignoring his own that streamed down his face. They wanted to complete their family so badly, to raise their own family, to live a normal calm life. Seeing the man in front of him break down, his heart wide open and exposed, raw with grief and self hatred. He hated seeing Miguel so broken; going from a confident, strong headed, sarcastic hot shot to a broken mess in his arms M/n wanted to just take all the pain away.

“Miguel don’t say that”

“But it’s true, if I never tried to cure myself, never got my genetic code rewritten with a spider we wouldn’t-“

“I wouldn’t be alive”

“Huh-“

“Miguel, if none of this happened to you, if you never became spiderman…I would’ve died that night. Spiderman wouldn’t have saved so many lives, and even if you weren’t spiderman we both know you wouldn’t have just sat by and watched Alchemax keep hurting people. Things happen in ways that force us all to adapt, evolve in ways that shock even ourselves, be it in a positive or negative light. But don’t ever hate yourself ever, no matter what happens now to the future miguel I’m just happy to have you in my life, to have a kid with you and we will Miggy we just have to be patient a little bit longer”

Miguel leaned his head into the crook of m/n’s neck as he let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around m/n waist and back breathing in his scent. Mixed with expensive cologne and food had Miguel’s heart lighten; feeling truly at home in m/n’s arms, holding his soon to be husband.

“Estoy tan cansado de esperar”

“Oh hun I know, I know but we have to try and stay positive the best we can…which food can help com one handsome let’s eat and get you your injection before the doctor tears our heads off”

“Ugh, shock not another shot”

M/n stood up taking Miguel’s hand pulling him up from his chair pulling the muscular taller man against his own chest. The sounds of birds outside singing with the distant sounds of yard drones cutting the neighbors yards. It felt truly like home, staring down at M/n who caressed Miguel’s jaw luring him down for a peak.

“It’s just a small prick, besides hun I made your favorite food; managed to get your mom’s recipe”

Miguel peaked those intoxicating lips once more, his arms wrapping behind his lover's head. Untaloned Mighuel ran his fingers through the soft hair; gently tugging out knots as he gazed into the E/c eyes that stared back at him with such love it only luring him in even more; a siren song with no dangers.

“And how did you manage to do that? That woman keeps her recipes closer to her heart then that hun of hers”

Smirked, M/n flipped his head to the side, side eyeing Miguel.

“I have my ways, she’s not so secretive if you hang her dirty laundry out in front of her. Besides, it’s the least she could do after dragging our love through the mud. Now stop deflecting, let's eat before we go okay. And Miguel I love you just remember that no matter what I love you”

Leaning down Miguel pressed the twos for heads together, smiling allowing his teeth to show. His old confidence came back in full; feel much better than before.

~~~~~~

At that moment he was, but now that the couple sat in their room waiting for their reproductive endocrinologist Miguel became an anxiety riddled mess as he sat on top of the examination table trying to at the very least keep his talons in check as to not hurt the hand that was intertwined with his.

“Shh babe, just remember to breathe okay.”

Miguel tried to follow m/ns advice but even that wasn’t helping as Miguel squeezed his hand slightly as he kept his eyes moving around the room, reading the small posters featuring information on IVF and it’s almost beaconful message of;

‘We make families whole!’

Scoffing Miguel looked over to M/n who had his full attention on rubbing Miguel’s clenched hand, trying to sooth Miguel’s anxiety. Realizing he was hurting him Miguel eased his grip on his reassuring fiancé who leaned over in his chair placing a tame kiss upon Miguel’s quivering one.

His voice was like satin, soft and calming as he spoke with such confidence Miguel yearned to have such hope like M/n had.

“She’ll be here real soon hun, they are very busy today”

“I know but we’ve been waiting for an hour! Can they get this over with-“

“Hey now what did we talk about in the taxi hun?”

Miguel wanted to cop attitude but seeing the look M/n gave him Miguel sighed, taking a deep breath calming his already breaking heart at the news he knew they’d get once again. Breathing out Miguel pressed his head against M/n’s staring at their interwoven hands staring at the red diamond that sat set into the tungsten carbide band engraved with the couples most charashed phrase,

‘Mi única luz en la vida’

Words Miguel knew were far more truer now than ever before. His gaze soon fell to staring at m/n who smiled softly, even though he looked hopeful Miguel sensed he was just as much of a nervous wreck as he was.

“Try and stay hopeful-“

A small knock interrupted the couples thoughts as their doctor walked in, her holo pad along with her AI who processed the data came walking in. She was anything but a straight to the point, take not shot doctor. As she looked up her glasses caught the bright lights that had Miguel wearing his tinted sunglasses.

“Mr.O’Hara and Mr.L/N; I know you both what nothing more then to know the news-“

M/n smiled his voice loud and excited as he gave Miguel’s hand a slight squeeze as he spoke.

“Do we ever, it’s good news right doc?”

Miguel felt his fiancés hands shaking as they clasped over Miguel’s. Who now comforted M/n as his voice cracked some. Miguel clenched his teeth as tears began to gather.

“You both have been going through the highest levels of IVF, the most expensive treatments for infertility in men your age group and on top of that 5 separate appoints with no promising outcomes-“

‘Here it comes-‘

“Which is why I’m pleased to tell you both good news!”

Tears fell from Miguel’s eyes as he looked at the doctor, his and M/n’s hands gripping earthers tightly as the news left the doctors lips, her smile widening as she call for her AI to pull up the photos of a artificial womb with a small fetus floating within a time counting down twirls the date their child would be ‘born’.

“You both will be proud dads of a healthy baby girl! Congratulations!”

M/n yelled out pulling Miguel into a tight embrace, tears streaming down both soon to dads faces. Miguel began crying as well as he gripped the back of M/n’s shirt as he sobbed in pure relief of happiness. Almost disbelief as they stared at the photo given to the two of the child’s ‘ultrasound’. Standing up M/n wrapped his arm around Miguel’s waist as he asked the doctor questions Miguel didn’t bother to pay attention to as he held the photo in his hands, seeing their baby, their own daughter! Alive and healthy, a clear bill of health.

“When will she be fully developed I know this kind of new technology is recently upgraded and such with nutrition and growth potential en-“

“She’ll be born and ready for the both of you to take her home in around 3 months as long as she stays on the growth patterns she’s been showcasing. Rest assured mr.m/l, ohara we’re ensuring this little princess will be well taking cared of and safe”

Both parents sighed at the news, Miguel looked over to M/n who looked about ready to start crying himself at the news. The news they’ve been waiting for so long; was coming true, they’ll be parents with a baby girl running around. A strong, healthy baby girl.

“Now then I’ll just be right outside filling out your paperwork make sure to talk to the front office for your own paperwork to fill out, her name, legal parents that sort of thing, nothing to serious”

Miguel still could barely believe it even as he looked back down at the ultrasound seeing the small fetus that would soon grow into a baby; Their baby, migue leaned his body weight against M/n who smiled tears filling his own eyes as he held his fiancé.

“Thank you Dr.Lee, I-I don’t know how to even word just how much this means to us.”

Dr.lee smiled, placing a hand upon the couple's still interwoven hand.

“No need to thank me for doing my job, and once again congratulations Mr.l/n, Mr. ohara”

The door closed behind the doctor giving the new parents time to process the news of their daughter. M/n squeezed Miguel’s body closer to his as the two stood looking at the small ultrasound of their daughter. M/n smiled as Miguel's lips crashed against his own in a raw emotional moment of tears of both fathers, as overjoyed tears streamed down their faces: as all the stress and heartache finally vanished after months of wanting and waiting for this same news.

“W-we’re having a baby”

M/n smiled down at Miguel pulling his body flushed against his chest his hands gripping him by his waist his fingers soon running up Miguel’s white long sleeve shirt messaging the tension in his back out. Littering Miguel’s tear stain face with peaks with sweet nothings.

“ we’re having a little Gabriella, you did it hun; shock im so happy right now!”

Miguel’s eyes brightened kissing M/n back with a new found exuberance at the realization of this being real. That this was happening, that they were starting a family together. With a daughter they both always wanted Miguel’s hands wrapped around m/n’s neck basking in the joy the two felt,

“I guess this is the part I admit you were right?”

Laughing m/n held Miguel’s face in his hands leaning close enough for their noses to touch.

“Nah, I mean sure it’s nice to be proven right but now all I care about is that our daughter is safe and healthy and taking you out to celebrate…maybe invite the family?”

Miguel laughed, nudging his nose against m/ns shaking his head.

“You just wanna show off Gabriella don’t you”

“And why shouldn’t I? After all she’s our daughter, our strong, healthy, beautiful baby”

~~~~~

M/n couldn’t keep his hands to himself during dinner; and how could he? With Miguel sitting beside him as he spoke to Gabriel who seemed more distant and out of it, Miguel tried not to get sidetracked with the hand that slowly moved its way farther up his thigh. But the more he tried to ignore the hand that rubbed up and down his thigh getting closer to his slowly stirring cock. Trying to calm his body’s reaction Miguel tried asking Gabriel how his own fiancé was doing with her pregnancy.

“Oh she’s fine…when she’s not obsessing over spiderman. After all he’s the protector of the people right?-aye mamá! ¿Para qué era eso!”

Gabriel winced as Conchata hit the back of his head with his palm as she finished drinking her drink. Setting the drink down she turned to Gabe who seemed to know he messed up poorly as she began talking in her authoritative voice that made even Miguel tense up as. M/n tore his eyes away from the uncomfortable situation of watching an adult being ridiculed by his own mother.

“that was for disrespecting the man who managed to keep downtown safe while your stupid fiance and her useless rebel group got in spider man's way most of the time!El hecho de que esa rata sin hogar te haya abierto las piernas no significa que empieces a faltarle el respeto al hombre que está ayudando a tu hermano a sacar el crimen de las calles.”

Miguel had to force his face to stay as blank as he could as he took a bite from his meal, staring at the two members of his family arguing. While trying his best to not buckle against M/n's hand that now cupped his covered cock in his hand.

Messaging the area with a straight face side eyeing Miguel with a look that had Miguel’s stomachs knot up with lust; his cock throbbed against M/n’s hand earning Miguel a smile from M/n as his attention turn back to his mother and brother who were in an argument that was gaining some attention from the other people eating; clearing his throat M/n smiled at the two as he spoke a lovable tone calmed the two in laws down as he spoke.

“What we wanted to tell you both is that well…Miguel did we grab the photos?”

Miguel took a sip of his drink, nodding clearing his throat as he reached into his pocket grabbing the two ultrasound of the IVF womb with their soon to be daughter inside looking in her seventh month. Miguel’s hands shook not from nervousness even though he knew his mother and brother would take it as such but that was far from the reason he was quivering as the hand messaging his slowly hardening cock rubbed and cupped around him firmer.

“Mamá, Gabriel y M/N y yo estamos teniendo un bebé.”

Miguel’s smile widened, handing his mom and baby brother their own ultrasound pictures of his and M/ns baby girl.Gabriel practically yanked the ultrasound out of Miguel’s hand only for his scowl to turn into a look of pure adoring as he looked at his niece, his face beaming at the small image.

Conchata grabbed a hold of the small photo looking at the ultrasound . The stoic scowl that seemed to always be stuck on her face vanished as she looked down at the photo running his hand over the polished image of the baby curled up covering its face.

“Do you know the gender yet?”

Her voice softened as she stared over at the couple who looked at one another for permission. Miguel smiled at his mom,

“She’s a girl, a strong, healthy girl”

“What are you naming her! Did you come up with names yet?”

Gabe shouted as he leaned over the table at the couple.

“Yeah we settled on Gabriella for her. It just fits her don’t you think”

M/n's hand lightened its messaging of Miguel’s covered cock, Miguel’s one hand gripping the hand in place wanting it to stay, to keep its teasing as it stroked the straining fabric against his now hardened cock.

“Sure does! Now I know how to embarrass her haha Gabriel and Gabriella! Genius M/n!”

“Actually man it was Miguel who chose the name. He seemed dead set on the name and who am I to tell him no”

M/n smirked, kissing Miguel on his cheek; Gabriel’s chest clenched seeing the happy couple. Seeing his older brother aka spiderman in a loving relationship while his own as being torn apart because of Spiderman!

Looking away Gabriel grabbed his drink, chugging the rest of the alcohol, getting an elbow in his ribs by his mom who corrected his manners.

“Don’t drink like that”

Resisting the urge to yell at his mom who now favored his more successful CEO brother. Instead Gabe apologizes for his hasty celebration. Congratulating the couple before standing up excusing himself for leaving early.

“Do you want us to pay for a taxi for you Gabe!-“

“No, I'm good! Congrats again miggy!”

Miguel sighed, placing his head into his hands rubbing his temple looking towards his mom, who was now standing up grabbing her jacket, rolling her eyes at Gabriel’s ‘childish behavior’ stating she had to get going. Saying she had an appointment with a friend.

As both of the couple watched as the two rushed out leaving M/n and Miguel alone at the table. M/n’s other hand guiding Miguel’s hurt expression to face him kissing his fiancé who’s family rushed out as fast as they came. M/n knew the family had a toxic streak but to just ditch a celebration of a new member of the family coming soon…m/n knew it cut Migue deep.

Leaning forward M/n pressed his lips against Miguel’s, being glad the couple chose a booth seat as not many people bothered to look at the couple.

The hand that messaged Miguel’s cock gripped his balls harder, fondling them the best they could with; making Miguel pant, trying to keep his face and noises down as they were still in a public space surrounded by intel’s other people.

“We’ll celebrate in our own way after all You're getting pretty horny now aren’t you hot stuff?”

Miguel’s other hand gripped around M/n's wrist for support as his hand began palming his cocks head through his jeans. It took all his will power to not throw his head back from the pleasure and teasing he never knew he missed getting from his other half; who’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear, his hot breath brushing against Miguel’s skin had his skin shiver with goosebumps all in anticipation…hinging on every word the man in front of him whispered.

“Wanna treat my baby’s daddy just right, gotta make him feel real appreciated”

Miguel let out a soft gasp moan as lips trailed down his jaw to his neck. Miguel couldn’t take much more, his cocks throbbing became painful, his legs were turning into jelly at the images runny through his dirty, horny mind.

Would his throat be fucked raw? On his back taking his lover's cock? Would he fuck him like an animal in heat, pull his hair, mark him. Miguel’s grip tightened around M/n's wrist while his free hands talons tore through the leather of the booths seats.

Feeling M/n smirk against his neck Miguel sighed leaning his head against m/n chest; embarrassed wasn’t the word he’d describe himself, there was nothing to be ashamed of when it came down to their lust for each other, PDA a sign for either of them to get home fast or there was no stopping them from indulging in their carnal desires for pleasure.

For many men Miguel’s size being the ‘bottom’ was embarrassing, to look too weak so fragile for any amount of touch to satisfy their needs. To Miguel it was pure bliss to let the walls down to let someone else take control to be in charge of his own pleasure. Someone like M/n who knew Miguel’s body inside and out, knew ways to make Miguel go limp at the near thought of getting fucked raw with carnal, primal lust and desire.

Feeling m/ns lips leave his neck Miguel clung to him jerking his hips slightly against the hot palm rubbing him through his pants. His focus was beginning to slip with each thrust of m/ns palm against the head of the aching cock. So much heat burning in his stomachs Miguel felt his control slipping even more as his fangs ached leaking bits of his own venom into his mouth mixing with his drool in ways that had his tongue buzzing with the bitter sweet taste.

“Por favor, te necesito tanto que duele el amor”

M/n's hand palming softened its unbearable teasing as he pulled Miguel’s head into his neck area as his voice shouted out to their waitress. Miguel’s large muscular body tenses at slight fear of being caught in the act had Miguel regain some sense through the cloud of heated lust.

“Excuse me, could you call up an auto taxi please? We both must have drank more than we thought.”

Miguel let out a strained moan at the sudden strong rubbing that started once more. His mind rendered into a fog of pleasure struggling to keep itself focused on the act of staying aware of the situation they were in. He could hardly even focus on what their waitress was saying.

“Oh of course sir I’ll go do that right away, was your automatic payment set up for when you leave?”

“Oh yeah it’s all set up, tell the cooks good job on the food yeah and here's a tip for the trouble.”

“Oh there’s no need but thank you so much sir, the taxi will be here soon!”

Miguel let out a groan of relief with the deparcher of the young waitress. Trying his best to play it off as him being ‘drunk’ that didn’t stop M/n from kissing down his jaw to his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin near Miguel’s ear; sucking the skin leaving hickeys from his jaw down his neck. The grip Miguel’s talons had on the leather seat tightened even farther, tearing more of it in their wake of pleasure.

“joder a la mierda por favor necesito sentir tus manos a mi alrededor, I can’t take it anymore-“

“Mr.l/n your taxi is here!”

Miguel’s face tensed his eyes clenched shut, his lips swollen from his teeth biting down to keep the moans from pouring from them. But m/ns hand didn’t light up even as his sweetened voice. But Miguel knew the slight straining behind it as M/n's hand tugged Miguel’s shirt from his pants helping Miguel hide his rage ig boner as the two stood up.

M/n gathered most of their stuff, wrapping his hand around Miguel’s waist as he ‘helped’ Miguel walk outside to their taxi that waited for them, it became harder to walk from the anticipation of whatever was in store for him once they both got into the hover car.

Tossing their coats into the hover car M/n held the door open for miguel who only had one foot into the car before hands rubbing up his covered spine before lips kissed behind his ear, Miguel groaned when a hand gripped his straining cock firmly before letting Miguel go to get into the taxi.

The autopilot chimed on,

-“Please enter in destination requirements”-

M/n closed the doors hatch, without hesitation M/n swung his leg over Miguel’s legs straddling, his knees m/n’s face blocking much of Miguel’s view as he racked his hands all over Miguel’s muscular body.

Both adults eyes filled with lust for the other, Miguel’s body could help but shake as hands that weren’t his own started running up his thighs landing just shy of the raging cock that throbbed underneath the slowly staining fabric. Miguel barely had time to hit enter on the holo pad before the hands unbuttoned the jeans and took the pre-dripping cock out from the straining fabric.

No matter how hard Miguel tried he couldn’t hold back the unrestrained pornographic moan that escaped. He’s never felt this much lust in his life, it was almost suffocating as the hand started it unbearably slow pumping from head to base. It was as if with each stroke of the hand left Miguel more breathless than before,

Throwing his head back to the back stead’s headrest M/n's free hand took a handful of Miguel’s dark locks making him stare into e/c eyes. Miguel groaned, staring at the man he was marrying, having a kid with, and fell so deeply in love with it nearly hurt to feel him all around him.

Leaning forward M/n smirked, his voice heated, hot, and horny all for Miguel to make the man under him feel appreciated, worshiped, and valued. And that was exactly M/n planned to do, make Miguel’s walls come fully down to fuck him in ways that would make them both so exhausted the next morning they’d just stay in bed and bask in the afterglow of sex but the new found strength both parents had now for their daughter.

“¿Qué quiere papá que haga? What can I do to make him feel appreciated?”

Miguel’s mind was slipping, slipping into the pools of light headed lust. Pleasure building painfully slow in his guts, the weightless feeling of the hover taxi waiving past other hover cars only added to the feelings of his mind slipping into giving all power to the man over him.

All Miguel felt was appreciation from the man in front of him, sighing as lips trailed down his lips to his neck, the warmth wet trail left from his fiancés tongue left in its wake had Miguel craving for more of m/n.

“Ah, ¡joder! No sé”

-“please refrain from contaminating the back seat; if you proceed to do so you will be charged extra for any cleaning services that will be required”-

The automated voice sounded over the taxis inner speakers of the back seat. It sent an electric shock through Mighuels body as he made an attempt to fix himself, only for a hand to push his back against the plush seats of the Taxi. Soft swollen lips pushing against his own, M/n’s voice lustful, soft and jokingly tone all slipping through his voice as he spoke against Miguel’s slightly parted lips.

“You do know; you’ve known for months what you’ve wanted me to do to that body of yours; you just have to tell me how you want it daddy, this is all for you to feel appreciated”

M/n pulled Miguel by his shirt, closing the space between their lips in a heated kiss. Miguel moaned, letting his mind give in; opening the floodgates as Miguel’s hands ran their way up M/n hips grinding his hips up with each jerking motion the hand around his cock pumped. Pre leaking down the thick Vick onto the hand, lubing it up even more to pump faster.

The air around the lovers heated up, the smell of sex and sweat mixed together with their colones that only became stronger the more they sweated. Miguel’s mouth limply hang open his forehead resting against M/n’s chest watching his cock vanish and reappear as the hand twisted at the head making it leak even more pre, drool dripping from his mouth as he watched his cock get pumped with the hand; spit joint the pre in lubricating m/ns hand in jerking Miguel more efficiently.

“Remember Miggy we can’t make a mess”

Hooking a finger under Miguel’s chin M/n lifted his face to look at the existence of the state Miguel was in. What he saw had his own cock throb painfully at Miguel’s flushed face, his unfocused eyes, the drooling mouth that revealed his fangs that seemed like they were even losing control over their venom leaking out, Miguel’s messing hair clinging to his forehead. M/n smirked down at his blissed out minded fiancé who’s arms clung loosely on his hips.

“ w-want you inside, hmm ah”

Miguel moaned his head leaning against M/ns hand, his body was in a state of plearsureable numbness. The only thoughts going through his mind was the thought of M/n cock filling him up with is seed. In a primal part of his mindset miguel craved to be filled to the brim with M/ns kids.

“Want your cum…in me filling me”

“Oh? And why does daddy want my cum?hmm”

Twisting his hand harshly at the reddening tip of Miguel’s cock; m/n moaned watching Miguel’s body shake involuntarily with Miguel’s whines from the amount of pleasure.

Miguel couldn’t take anymore his cock,his stomachs, even his ass ached for his fiancés cock to fuck him raw and full with cum.

“I want more kids, want you t-o fill me with them ahh, carajo!”

Miguel stammered his request filled M/n with such primal desire to do just as his future husband asked. Fill him full of his cum, his kids, to get him pregnant; to give their baby girl Gabriella siblings right away.

It was a part of Miguel’s brain that had these instincts programmed into him from the desisted, it made Miguel feel nothing more than a needy animal but in a way it was part of Miguel that he couldn’t hate…not when it made sex feel so fucking good.

Yet Miguel wasn’t prepared for his pants to be yanked as far down as M/n could manage before he got sexually frustrated enough to the point he removed his hand from Miguel’s burning cock to O’Neal down in between Miguel’s legs yanking his stained jeans the rest of the way off.

Licking his lips as he stared at Miguel’s pre-covered cock to his twitching hole. Shoving his own fingers into his mouth not knowing just how deputed Miguel’s venom was;

“Don’t give me those sexy eyes, I’m not gonna risk getting paralyzed by that venom of yours again.”

Throwing his head back in frustration Miguel knew M/n was valid in his concerns last time they were lost in this kind of lust he was paralyzed for a good part of the day stuck with a raging boner.

Opening his eyes Miguel looked down at M/n who was sucking on his own fingers coating them in his spit, while his other hand grabbed ahold of Miguel’s thigh guilding it over his shoulder showing off the puckering ring of muscle that craved for him.

Feeling his face heating up to a point Miguel could only moan as fingers began their teasing taunts with each small push, a slight probe. Whines escaped Miguel’s lips as one of his hands gripped his own hair the other made its way to his beading pre cock. Only for the hand to get slapped away.

Shocked, Miguel looked down to M/n whose face was in between the two mounds of ass, his tongue pushing past the ring of muscle, loosening the inside enough for a finger to shove it’s way all the way to his knuckle.

“Amor a la mierda por favor déjame eyacular”

Miguel’s struggling voice whines his free hand reaching down to M/n hair gripping his fingers into the soft messy h/c. Pulling m/ns head closer with each brush made on his prostate. The burning pleasurable sort of pain each time a finger was added along with the tongue that still eases the ring of muscle open.

Stretching Miguel’s ass farther, the heights of Miguel’s nearly climax was at its peak, the knot that formed altightened, heightening his senses even higher than before as blood rushed to his ears the corners of his eyes started to go white with pleasure.

All stopped once the autopilot spoke once more the voice alerting them of their nearly destination in a few moments. Causing the head between Miguel’s shaking thighs to retreat, along with the tongue that Miguel had gotten so used to the warmth of inside him.

Letting out a desperate breath Miguel looked down at M/n. Whose face was just as flushed as Miguel’s as he stared back, his fingered scissoring Miguel’s still tight hole open; preparing him just the way he wanted.

All while he stroked a hand against Miguel’s neglected cock that leaked far more the more teasing M/n did.

“Look at yourself you sexy beast, being scissored and stretched with one hand while being given the best handjob with the other and still you want me. Shock I love it when you let me take care of you baby, so sexy”

Miguel’s hands clasped M/n head weakly hinting at his desperate want for their lips to mean once more. Chuckling M/n continued his assault of his fiancés ass and cock. Their lips barely brushed against the other when the hover taxi sounded;

-“destination reached! Scanning; cleaning required your holo card will be charades as such for a cleaning crew, enjoy your day”-

M/n smirked down to Miguel’s exposed body, exposed to him and him only; Miguel’s muscles that were flexed made the shirt he worse tight and cling to parts of his body that had M/n drooling himself while racking his eyes down the masterpiece of the body before him.

Miguel’s cocked twitching with the lack of attention went for his ass as it tried to pull his fingers deeper. Latching onto Miguel’s soft spot on his neck resulting in slightly taloned hands to grip his shoulder breaking the skin slightly: the pain was worth more of those sweet, addictive moans being pulled from those plump lips.

“Shock Miguel keep doing that and I might let you fuck me instead”

Miguel’s groan tugging on M/n’s suit wanting him to be in the same amount of undress he was right now. Miguel wanted him inside, fucking him raw and primal to worship his body like he knew M/n would.

“cariño, please get me into the house and you can do whatever you want with me!”

His head rolled back as M/ns fingers retreated out from his ass, with a wet sound as they pulled fully out leave his hole twitching for something to clench, to suck deep within itself.An invention M/n would soon take

“When you put it like that how can I say no”

Miguel let out a shaking breath as hands brushed up his chest all the way down to the jeans that were still down at his ankles.

“Shock I can’t stop looking at you; fucking beautiful”

Lips ghosted down Miguel’s thighs, the trail of kisses were near unbearably sweet; it had him breathless all while M/n pulled his Jeans up, his boxers covering most of Miguel’s hyper sensitive cock.

The fabric now covering him up had Miguel panting as he resisted the urge to pull the clothes off his hyper sensitive cock. The fabric brushing against his slightly exposed head had Miguel squeezing his legs together as much as he could as the two made their way into their house.

A house that already held so many memories and would hold more. A clean organized house, with modern furniture decorating the interior of the modern home. The only messy part could be spotted in the kitchen which was getting cleaned already by LYLAs drones.

Miguel’s scenes were in overdrive; the smells of both men perforated the air of the house with their colognes, and now the smell of sweat, and sex that clung to the two. The smells are becoming stronger in their bedroom. A room that houses all the smells that had Miguel's instincts go wide.

It all had Miguel’s head spinning as he turned to M/n who smirked as he threw their suits onto the floor seeing the darkening lust that poured into Miguel’s eyes just before he pulled his other half on top of him.

M/n gasped as their bodies hit the plush bed; Miguel’s face was redder than m/n had ever seen it, his hair was messy sprawling over his face and bed. His fangs catching the dimmed lights as miguel spoke his voice thick with a need to be fucked, to be filled with cum.

“Love you; want more of you”

“Yeah?”

“¡Sí, por el amor de la mierda, por favor, que me jodan!”

M/n practically ripped Miguel's clothes off leaving the far more stronger man naked and bare underneath his body. Miguel’s broad figure relaxed moaning with each light touch M/n left on his skin. Any amount of lips that licked up the sweat that ran down Miguel’s anticipating body.

M/n loved seeing Miguel so lost in the ecstasy of it all. Watching him shiver,buckle, beg underneath him seeing him finally let go of all the stress and pressure that the last few months placed on him. Now he gave in, allowing himself to feel everything all at once.

M/n took his time stripping his own close off his body, giving the desperate Miguel underneath him something to enjoy with each curse word that poured from Miguel’s lips with each piece of clothing thrown elsewhere in the room.

Miguel, sexually frustrated made a move to pull M/n down to him but it only resulted in him being flipped into his stomach. Gasping as hands gripped his hips, pulling them flushed with a straining pair of pants that covered a raging cock under eight rubbing ever so slightly against Miguel’s prepped plum ass.

“Such an impatient daddy; maybe I should punish you-“

“No!”

“I guess you're right, this day is all about you, about making you feel really loved. Is that what you want for me to shove my cock inside this needy hole?”

Miguel’s talons released from his fingers gripping the thick blanket underneath the two, the unstable fibers of the blanket resisted the tearing from Miguel’s claws. Miguel looked over his broad shoulders seeing M/n tossing his pants off the bed along with his boxers leaving them both fully naked, a fact that had Miguel pushing his ass back against the cock that now rubbed its pre leaking head between the two mounds.

Miguel arched his back as the head teased his waiting, ache hole. The heat radiating from m/n legs and cock that pressed flushed with Miguel’s body had him moaning tears of joy ran down his face with the burning pleasure rippled through his ass up to his head.

As m/n started to slowly push the head of his cock inside Miguel. Hearing M/n’s low moans against his lower back, groaning about Miguel’s tightness that clenched around the head.

“Shock, miggy your ass is pulling me in so well”

Miguel moaned loudly at the praise, taking pure bliss of feeling so fucking full of M/n’s cock. Each each raised Miguel’s moans higher and higher, the addictive burn of his ass adjusting around the cock that fox in oh so perfectly had Miguel’s rolling his hips. M/n's hands grip on Miguel’s hips tightening as he holds back to give Miguel some time to breath only for Migue to buck his ass back slamming the rest of the cock into him.

“Fuck miguel! Ah”

“sí se siente tan lleno querido, más quiero todo lo que tienes"

Miguel managed to get his arms under him, his talons gripping tighter on their blankets; the glow from the fibers resisting the tears had the dim room glowing faintly as the illuminated the two pleasure lost men.

Miguel threw his head back moaning loudly as M:n hips gave in fully to Miguel’s demands. An iron grip on Miguel’s hips would bruise the next morning from the intensity of m/ns thrusts had Miguel voice breaking mid moans. In no time m/ns cock found Miguel’s prostate ramming into the bundle of nerves repeatedly.

Electrifying pleasure after pleasure had Miguel screaming as his vision began to turn nearly white as the pleasure blinded him. His knees began to lock up the feeling of the nearly inhuman speed his fiancés thrusted into his tight ass had Miguel railing for more.

Thrusting his own hips back against m/ns the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in their room the smell of sex and sweat became nearly as intoxicating as the pleasure. The nails in his hips trailed separating one wrapping itself around Miguel’s dripping reddening cock pumping the cock in time with his thrusts stimulating Miguel’s nerves even more. Miguel’s mouth hangs open saliva escaping his mouth that is now mixed with his venom making for a sweet but bitter taste to be a constant in his mouth.

Before Miguel had time to realize the other hand trailing threw his hair it was already to last as M/n pulled Miguel’s head back, both arms wrapped around Miguel’s body pulling the pleasure lost man to his own chest allowing lips and tongue to trail down Miguel’s neck leaving hickeys and bite marks in their wake.

Miguel’s moans turned into whimpers as the increased intensity of m/n thrusts became harder and faster the knot in Miguel’s stomachs was reaching its breaking point; Miguel’s cock was leaking an amount M/n's hand was covered in the pre.

“Ah, look down Miggy, fuck my cock is filling you good hun”

Miguel did as he was told with slight resistance from the still tight grip M/n's hands had in his hair. What he saw had Miguel nearly lose his instinct riddled mind as a bus able bulge could be seen with each harsh unforgiving thrusts.

“Go on, fill it, fill just how much I’m filling you baby; rub that cock filled stomach of yours for me.”

Miguel threw his head back as another dead-on hit to his prostate was made, his head resting against M/n shoulder. His hands trailed up to his stomachs moaning at each thrust had the bulge protruding from Miguel’s stomachs to rub against his hands.

M/n was right he was filling Miguel so good, so much filled him Miguel never wanted this to end the feeling the cocks head gave him with each thrust had Miguel’s brain want to believe it wasn’t a cock but his and M/n’s child growing inside of him. A baby bump; that a child was growing inside of Miguel.

“Shock M/n more ¡Lléname, cum dentro de mí por favor! quieres darle a Gabriella un hermano quiere a tus hijos, amor”

“Ah fuck keep t-talking like that and I’ll loose it hun”

“So close to, ah shock, shock please so close! W-anna feel you cum inside me!”

The knot that’s been building in both of the two lovers grew to its breaking point. The pain melded with the pleasure of the pressure build up had Miguel gripping M/n's ass keeping him in place the best he could while his screams of pleasure filled the room ; ropes of cum splattering all over the bed sheets and m/ns still pumping hands.

Wet skin slapping movements filled the air of the couples room; as a tear stained Miguel gasped for any amount of air he could get as his body shook only for a moan to rip be ripped out of him as his hand felt M/ns hips sputtering in a final harder thrust up into Miguel’s tightening hole; the bully Miguel felt twitching harshly against his prostate as his inside were flooded with m/ns hot seed. Made Miguel buckle his own hips into the air as yet another unexpected second orgasam hit him.

Grabbing hold of M/n's hair Miguel sighed, feeling his lover's lips soothing him. Soft lips trailing up Miguel’s neck to his jaw. His hand turning Miguel’s fucked out expression towards him peppering kisses all over Miguel’s face that scrunched up in discomfort as 5the now softened cock slipped from his cum dripping hole.

Leaving Miguel whining yet moaning at the soft attention he was receiving from M/n whose other hand rubbed what was left of Miguel’s cum on the now dirty blanket. Before stroking Miguel’s aching thighs and hips.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Miguel laughed, opening his eyes to stare at his worried fiancé who’s shoulder bore more damage compared to Miguel’s soon to be bruising hips.

“You're asking me? Last I checked I’m not bleeding anywhere”

“Yeah yeah smart ass, fuck I love you so much“

Interweaving his fingers through the h/c hair Miguel breathed in m/ns scent now mostly smelling of Miguel and sex Miguel relaxed basking in their afterglow.

“Yo también te amo, m/n”

Feeling m/n face pressed into Miguel’s neck Miguel relaxed as he continued to play with his lover's hair; feeling him speak against his neck a statement that had Miguel’s chest ache with just how much he loved his man holding him.

“And I love our daughter; I’ll protect both of you the best way I can I swear, I’ll keep you both safe no matter what”

“Now you’re stealing my lines”

A chuckle tickled Miguel’s sensitive neck as they both chuckled while caressing each other's bodies, messaging out the aching muscles.

“Sure am, we deserve a normal life don't you think, a nice long vacation”

“And just how long is this vacation lasting?-“

“The rest our lives; raising our beautiful baby”

The couple intertwined their hands M/n looking down at Miguel’s ring around his finger, the joy and light feeling of finally finding the family he’s spent all his life searching for was here. Had always been here in his arms for years and now another part of their family is one her way as well.

Pulling Miguel’s hand to his lips both Miguel and M/n kissed their ringed fingers, nudging ‘em their head together as they basked in the love they held for each other and their daughter.

Nothing would change that…ever.

Part 6 final

( damn this turned out very long and angsty and soft all at the same time! Hope y’all like it!)

#fanfic #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #male reader #miguel o’hara x male reader #oneshot #miguel ohara x reader #top reader #bottom miguel o'hara

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