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theemporium · 7 months

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Max didn’t think it was possible to miss somebody this much, and yet, he had spent the best part of the last month feeling like somebody caved his chest in for every second he was apart from you.

He missed you. He missed you so fucking much. He missed you so much that the second the grand prix had ended, he rushed through the podium ceremony and media duties so he could speed to the airport and get on the private jet straight back to Monaco.

However, flying back from the States was no easy feat and it meant that it was firmly into the early hours of the morning by the time he landed.

The apartment was dead quiet when he arrived, the lights turned off and the only sound being the distant nightlife of Monte-Carlo many floors beneath the apartment. He left his bags by the floor to deal with in the morning, his shoes and jacket following the same fate as he made his way towards your shared bedroom, briefly pausing to greet Sassy and Jimmy.

It shouldn’t have been a shock that you were asleep considering it was almost three in the morning, but it still made him deflate a little when he pushed the bedroom door open and found you fast asleep on the bed.

But what made his chest tighten was the fact you looked as though you were trying to stay awake for him. You were engulfed by one of his hoodies that rested down your bare thighs, clinging onto his pillow with a book resting by your head—one he knew to be your current read.

His lips twitched upwards with a soft smile as he moved closer to you, shedding off his shirt and jeans with the intention to just curl up beside you and fall asleep with you after a month of only seeing you through a screen.

But by the time he settled in behind you, you were already gravitating towards him and pushing back against him. He gripped your hips, but you kept moving towards him until his hoodie had shifted, and the peak of white cotton panties were in his vision.

“Shit,” he breathed out, his eyes focused on your ass as he felt his cock stir in his boxers before he lifted his gaze to your face. You were still fast asleep, body subconsciously seeking him even when you weren’t awake.

It shouldn’t have turned him on so much. It shouldn’t have made blood rush to his cock at the fact the mere feel of his touch got you so needy. It shouldn’t have made every coherent thought in his head disappear that you submitted to him even in your sleep.

And maybe if he was a better man, he would pull away. He would pull away and freshen up and then eventually join you in sleeping.

But he wasn’t a better man, not one bit.

Max gripped your hips, pulling you closer until your body was snug against his. He let out a low groan, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he slowly rolled his hips against your ass.

His palm slipped beneath your hoodie, pressing down against your stomach as he continued to rut his hips against yours. He watched your face closely, waiting to see if you would react but you stayed fast asleep as he used you like you were his own personal toy.

“Such a pretty girl,” he murmured, mostly to himself as he continued to grind against you. His lips traced whispered words and soft kisses along your neck, mixed between heavy pants as he slipped his hand to cup your clothed cunt and let out a groan when he felt how wet you were.

“You like this,” he commented breathlessly, the wet fabric of your cotton panties feeling like a taunt as he felt your hips jerk a little on instinct. “Such a desperate thing, even in your sleep.”

You let out a wistful sigh, squirming against his hold as he kept you tight against him.

“Of course you fucking do,” he continued, feeling something deep in his stomach tighten when you let out a small whimper as he pressed the heel of his palm against your sensitive clit. “Because you love being good f’me, schat, don’t you?”

Another whine left your lips and he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He pushed his boxers down his legs, kicking them off before his hands were on you again. His fingers hooked your wet panties to the side before he lifted your leg, gripping the fat of your thigh as he slowly slid inside you.

You let out a low moan, still a little bleary and lost as you slowly blinked your eyes open. You felt hot. Much hotter than you did when you dozed off a few hours ago. And it took a few seconds before you felt the pressure inside you, so deep inside you and it was a feeling you could never get sick off.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, suddenly aware of the warmth settled behind you and the hands gripping your body before you felt his lips against your cheek. “Max.”

“Shhh, I know, baby, I know,” he panted softly, pinning your squirming hips in place as he slowly began to thrust in and out of you. “My pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl. Doing so fucking well for me.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nuzzling your face against his pillow as his tempo sped up. “I—”

“I’ve got you,” he cooed, almost a little patronising as he pressed a chaste kiss on your temple. “Go back to bed, schat. Don’t worry that pretty, little head of yours.”

You whimpered but nodding, your eyes slowly fluttering shut again as he continued to fuck you from behind, as he continued to grope the cheeks of your ass and knead the fat on your thighs. He continued to fuck you as you slowly fell back asleep, trusting him enough to use you as he pleased because you were his good girl, his good little toy who wanted to please him whenever you could.

And when he reached his peak, he buried his face into the crook of your neck and let out a string of curses as he came. His chest heaved with soft pants as he tried to catch his breath, his arm winding around your middle as he pulled you close. And despite the voice in the back of his head that told him to get up, he finally had you in his hold after a whole month and he wasn’t going to let you go just yet.

Max pulled the duvet over you both, cock still buried deep inside you as you snuggled back against him and let the Dutchman fall asleep only minutes after you, with his chest finally feeling weightless for the first time in a month.

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theemporium · 6 months

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Despite the fact drivers were meant to be cautious of their size and weight, Carlos Sainz was an absolute beast of a man.

Everything about him was big and you loved it, far more than you cared to admit. You loved the way he towered over you. You loved the way his thick arms would wrap around you. You loved his broad shoulders and thigh thighs and big hands and just every single damn thing about your boyfriend. Every single aspect of him lived in your head on a loop, not a passing moment in your life where you weren’t thinking about some part of him.

And his personality only matched. Carlos Sainz was never one to half-ass something, regardless if it was a race or a date night—or in the most recent case, a honeymoon.

He knew from the first day he met you that he was going to marry you. He knew that the day he found the perfect ring, that would be his sign that he was ready to propose and that day came around two years later.

The ring was beautiful and large and encaptured everything beautiful about Carlos. The wedding felt like something out of a fairytale. The reception had felt like the best day of your life and you swore nothing would ever top it.

And then Carlos whisked you away on your dream vacation, starting off with a massive villa on the Amalfi Coast. It was huge, far too big for the two of you but Carlos had insisted that it was what you deserved.

Though, you should have known his real reason was so that he could fuck you in every single one of those rooms in the villa, with the sight of his wife and the Italian coast as his perfect view.

“Carlos—fuck!”

“Go on, baby, scream for me.”

“It’s too much!”

“Shhh, you’re taking it so well,” Carlos praised, his lips brushing against your ear as he gripped your thighs even tighter. “Don’t even need to do anything, just look pretty for me.”

You let out a choked noise, your lips parting as your husband continued to bounce you up and down on his cock. The last few days since you landed had been similar. Whichever room you were in, whatever you were wearing, whatever you were doing never mattered to Carlos. He just needed to have his hands on you. He just needed to have his cock inside you.

He just needed you.

And it was hard to forget how big and strong your husband was when he did everything in his power to remind you.

Whether it was engulfing you as he fucked you from behind, keeping you trapped between his body and the wall as he slid inside you, or even pressing down on the bulge in your stomach when he fucks you on the bed, cooing at the reminder that even his cock was too big—Carlos was big and everything reminded you of that fact.

“Hmm, just like that, amor,” Carlos groaned as your nails dug into his shoulders. “Just hold onto me. Let me do the work, mi hermosa esposa.”

“S’too much, Carlos,” you whined as he stood by the large, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the setting sun. You had been admiring the oranges and pinks and purples in the sky when Carlos had settled in beside you, lasting all of three minutes before he was all over you—despite the fact you were still leaking from his last load.

“Never get enough of you, mi amor,” Carlos gritted through clenched teeth as he continued to move you up and down his cock, as his arms flexed with every move, as he fucked you like you were just a toy rather than his wife. And yet, he was barely breaking a sweat as he kept going and going and going and—

“Oh fuck!” You cried out as you clenched around his cock, nuzzling your face into his warm chest as you felt your body shake with the intensity of your orgasm but Carlos held you close. He let you wrap your legs around him as he held you to him, as he guided you through your orgasm until you were clinging onto him.

“Perfect for me,” Carlos hummed as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Every part of you was made for me, made for my cock.”

You snorted. “I still think it’s too big for me.”

You could feel his smile against your temple. “And yet, I make it fit every single time.”

“You’re doing God’s work, Mr Sainz,” you teased playfully as he huffed out a laugh.

“Anything for you, Mrs Sainz.”

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theemporium · 7 months

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“Hello?”

“Fuck, I needed to hear your voice.”

The triple header had been hard. A lot harder than either of you anticipated. You would’ve thought that after spending the whole summer break together, three weeks apart would have been fine and doable—but it was proving to be otherwise.

It hadn’t even been two weeks since you last saw each other and Lando genuinely thought he was losing his mind. Maybe he was clingy. Maybe he had separation issues. Maybe he just really missed having his girlfriend by his side after being spoiled with such for four weeks straight.

He wasn’t sure which one it was, but he missed you in a way that made his chest feel tight and a little part of him ache whenever he remembered you weren’t waiting for him whenever he got out the car.

And even with you being back in the UK and him being around Europe, the time difference wasn’t enough for him to be completely isolated from talking to you. But it didn’t make him feel much better being away from you.

You snorted, biting back a yawn. “We spoke this morning.”

“No, you sent me a voice note this morning,” he corrected, settling back against the headboard like he could finally relax. “There’s a difference.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s in the rulebook,” he answered nonchalantly. “Can’t argue with the rulebook, baby.”

“I am not awake enough to decode your weird messages,” you mumbled, your words interrupted by the yawn you were desperately trying to hold back.

His brows furrowed together as he pulled his phone back to look at the time. “Were you asleep? Baby, it’s only five.”

“It was a nap,” you defended.

“You won’t sleep properly tonight,” he retorted, a little light-hearted and teasing because if anyone was more likely to sleep anywhere at any time regardless of the circumstances, it was you.

“I already can’t sleep without you here,” you confessed in a muttered response, and the tightness in his chest returned.

He could imagine it so clearly. You would be buried under the duvet, laying on his side of the bed like you usually did when he was gone. Your face would be nuzzled into his pillow, basking in the lingering scent of him. The house would be too hot and you were probably prancing around in just a pair of panties and one of his hoodies, because wearing them comforted you like he was right there hugging you.

And he could just imagine slipping into the bed behind you, pressing up against you and enjoying the lazy kisses you would exchange because you were half awake but needy for his touch. Fuck, he missed how needy you were for him.

The pathetic whines you’d let out when his hands would explore your skin. The choked out gasp when his palm cupped your pussy, the heel of his hand pressed against your sensitive clit. The soft moan you would let out when he finally slid inside you, feeling the way you clenched around his cock. And the little high-pitched whimpers you would let out just before you—

“Lando?”

He blinked, his cheeks burning at just how quickly his mind ran south before he even realised. But you did that to him. You were nothing but a slippery slope for him and his dirty thoughts.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, shaking his head a little as he focused on your voice on the other side of the phone. “What were you saying?”

“You seemed lost in thought,” you murmured, your voice a little lower and rougher, like the sleepiness was still clinging onto you. “What’s on your mind?”

You.

You were on his mind. The fact he knew the exact fucking state you were laying on his bed in, in his clothes. The fact your voice was a little husky as you spoke into his ear. The fact it had been almost two weeks since he had touched you and he was starting to lose his goddamn mind. And the fact he just couldn’t help himself anymore.

“Nothing,” he breathed out as his hand slid over the bulge forming in his sweatpants. “Just…stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Fuck, it was like you knew what he was doing.

“It’s not that interesting,” he blurted out quickly, his head falling back against the headboard as he squeezed his length through the fabric of his sweatpants. “Tell me about your day.”

He just wanted to hear your voice. He needed to hear your voice. He just needed to pretend that you were sitting beside him, that you were actually there with him and your voice in his ear. Maybe he could even pretend his hand was yours, that it was you stroking and teasing him right now whilst you spoke.

“Baby,” you murmured before letting out a slightly breathless laugh. “Do you not think I know what you’re doing?”

He froze. “What?”

“You’re practically panting in my ear,” you said to him, and for a second Lando wondered if it freaked you out. If you were going to call him out on the fact it was a little perverted that he was teasing himself to the sound of your voice without telling you.

“Babe—” he started, his hand still moulded around his hardening cock, the outline now prominent and obvious.

“My poor baby just wishes I was there to make him feel good, huh?”

He swallowed harshly. “So fucking bad.”

“Yeah?” You hummed, and he could just imagine the mischievous smile on your face. “Like I did on the boat on holiday? You loved that. Maybe a bit too much.”

“Shit,” Lando hissed, his free hand pushing the waistband of his sweatpants down until they were pooled above his knees. His cock bounced free, hard and tip-swollen and so desperate for you. Always for you.

“I think about that day a lot,” you continued as you let out a wistful sigh. “I think about how pretty you looked when you were begging for me to touch you. You sounded so pretty, baby, it made me so wet.”

Lando let out a pathetic whimper, his eyes fluttering shut as his thumb teased the head of his cock, just like you had done that day on the boat. All of your shared friends on the other side of the boat and there you were, on your knees as you teased and taunted him until he blew a load all over your tits.

He imagined he was back there, sun beating down on him and his hands tangled in his own curls as he tried—and failed—to bite back his moans. The way you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, sucking and licking him until he was bucking up into you. The way you took him so well, letting him hit the back of your throat until he was a babbling mess underneath you.

Fuck, what he would give to have you with him now to recreate that day.

“I just wish we had enough time for more that day, baby,” you confessed in a breathy whisper. He imagined the duvet was pushed off your body, that you had pushed your panties to the side as you ran your fingers along your soaking cunt. “I wish we had enough time for you to fill me up, Lando, just wanted to feel you come inside me.”

“Oh fuck,” he whined as his tempo increared, dribbles of precum running down his cock as he listened to your breathy moans and filthy words through the phone.

“I wish I was there right now, let you fill me up all nice and good, baby,” you whimpered into the phone, your breathing a little heavier as you approached your release. “Fuck, I wanna feel you inside me, Lando. I need to feel you deep inside me.”

Lando let out a mixed sound of pain and pleasure as he came, his vision dotted with white spots as he felt the pleasure and ecstasy run through his body. He came in short spurts, his release now all over his thighs and stomach, and something in his chest tightened at the sight. If you were there, he could almost imagine the way you’d tease him before leaning down to clean up the mess with your tongue.

“I miss you,” he choked out, his chest heaving with the strength of his own orgasm as he tried to battle the immense desire he had to have you in his arms at that very moment. “I miss you so fucking much.”

“I miss you too, baby,” you murmured, your voice sounding as sleepy as it did earlier. “Just one and a half more weeks. Soon.”

“Soon,” he repeated with a sad smile on his face, unaware of the plane ticket in your possession that would get you in his arms in less than twenty-four hours.

.

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theemporium · 7 months

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The Monaco Grand Prix had been a fucking trainwreck.

It was meant to be their weekend. They had been doing so well all weekend. They had been topping the practice sessions. They had been putting in fast laps every session. They had managed to secure the front row after qualifying.

They had done everything right, and yet it still wasn’t enough because Ferrari fucked everything up in the way they always did.

Between unnecessarily long and unprepared pit stops to bad strategy calls that left them fighting other cars in old, used tires, it was a fucking shit show and the boys just wanted the race to be over so they could forget about it. They wanted to cross the line and get unnecessarily drunk until the race was nothing but a blip in their memory.

And that was the plan for the night when they arrived at the club, until they saw you.

Your relationship with the Ferrari drivers wasn’t exactly conventional nor easy to explain. You don’t even know how you could explain it to someone, because to an outsider looking in, it seemed anything but equal and fair.

It started long before either boy really joined Ferrari.

When Carlos Sainz drove for Torro Rosso and you were joining your father around the world, it was easy to cross paths with the Spaniard. Nothing ever happened, but you were on Carlos’ radar and that was more than enough. Then Charles entered the picture. And years passed without a single thought in your head about ever acting on the attraction for either driver because they became the enemy.

To the world, you were the Red Bull princess. You were Christian Horner’s pride and joy. You were the face of one of the only pure and innocent things at Red Bull, and nothing could tarnish that image.

Nothing except the Ferrari boys.

The two men that were your father’s biggest rivals. The two men that seemed to have you wrapped around their finger long before you could even realise it. The two men that seemed to awaken a fire inside you that you didn’t think existed, and now you never wanted to extinguish it.

The two men that had trained the perfect, little Red Bull princess into their perfect, little whore.

And now, in a small and exclusive club in the heart of Monaco, you were just in reach. You were standing beside Max, his arm thrown over your shoulder, as you both laughed and celebrated and drank happily at the expense of both Ferrari boys.

And something in them snapped.

You were at least three drinks in, lost in the crowd as you aimlessly danced to whatever song was being pumped through the speakers when you felt their presence. You barely had a chance to open your eyes before you felt a warm and familiar chest settle behind you, hands on your waist that were gripping the fabric of your short dress.

“You seem happy, cherie,” Charles grumbled, lips brushing against your ear as he pulled you back into him. “Far too fucking happy.”

“Charles,” you murmured breathlessly, leaning into his embrace like it was instinctive.

“Maybe you like laughing at our expense,” a second voice spoke, and you didn’t even have time to turn your head on your own before you felt fingers digging into your cheeks, turning you to face Carlos who stood in front of you.

You shook your head. “I wasn’t—”

“You didn’t even come to see us, amor,” Carlos grumbled, his voice so clear to you despite the noisy environment of the club around you. “Too busy celebrating with Daddy’s favourite?”

“I just didn’t know—” you started, only to let out a small whimper when Carlos’ fingers slipped past your lips, two digits laying heavy on your tongue as you gently sucked.

“You’re ours, amor,” he murmured, his hooded eyes focused on the way your pretty painted lips wrapped around his fingers. “Ours to do whatever we want with, right?”

You whined, nodding.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Carlos continued, shaking his head like he was scolding you. “You should have been waiting for us. You should have been on your fucking knees and instead you were running around with Max.” He paused for a moment, his gaze moving to Charles behind you. “Maybe you just need a fucking reminder who you belong to.”

You barely gasped around his fingers when you felt Charles’ hands wander lower until his fingers brushed against the hem of your dress. Carlos watched you, delighted in the way your eyes widened when Charles pushed the fabric of your dress up to expose your scantily clad ass in a thong.

“This just for us, cherie?” Charles whispered in your ear, his voice low and his accent thick and it made you clench your legs together.

“Maybe she does remember she’s our whore after all,” Carlos commented as if you weren’t there.

Charles fingers wandered, his palm moving to cup your pussy and he let out a dark laugh. “And she’s fucking wet already. Barely even touched her.”

“Because she’s such a good toy,” Carlos cooed as he pushed his fingers further into your mouth until you let out a choked garble. “Even when she’s not trying, she wants to be our good girl.”

“Shit,” Charles groaned, his nose brushing against your neck as his fingers teased your soaking cunt. “She’s fucking dripping, Carlos. Making such a mess.”

“Guess we need to take care of our toy, Charles,” the Spaniard murmured in response.

And it should have terrified you. All of it should have made some sort of warning bell ring in your head. You were in public. You were in a club. Anyone could see the three of you. Anyone could see the way the Ferrari boys were touching you.

It was dark and it was loud and most of the people around you were far too drunk to comprehend their surroundings, but all it would take was for one picture to be taken and for the world to see the Red Bull princess at the mercy of the Ferrari boys.

But it didn’t scare you, or maybe you just really didn’t care. Maybe because you didn’t care what the world thought because Charles was sliding his cock into you and Carlos was slowly pumping his fingers in your mouth in a way that made you wish it was his cock, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else at that moment.

“Look at our pretty girl,” Carlos cooed as your eyes fluttered shut with Charles’ thrusts, his hands on your waist as he fucked you without a single care. “Taking it so well, amor. Like a good toy.”

“Fuck,” Charles groaned in your ear, panting in your ear as he pulled you back onto his cock. “So fucking tight, cherie. Gonna fill you up and let people see me dripping down your leg all night.”

You whined around Carlos’ fingers, a sound so pathetic and desperate that both boys almost wished the whole club could hear you.

“We are gonna fucking ruin you, amor,” Carlos murmured as his other hand softly caressed your cheek as if a small dribble of drool wasn’t leaking from the corner of your lips and ruining your makeup. “Not Red Bull’s princess, but our fucking whore.”

You moaned pathetically.

“Who knows,” his grin was a little vindictive and sinister. “Maybe we’ll send a little picture to your father. Show him which team his daughter really belongs to.”

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theemporium · 7 months

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Eddie Munson wasn’t the most romantic guy, but he tried his hardest.

His feelings for you were overwhelming in the best way possible. He was loud and eccentric and a little too much for most people, but then again, you weren’t like most people. Wayne had always joked that it was a shock Eddie managed to snag someone like you. You always liked to joke back that Eddie was scaring everyone else off until you came along.

But truth be told, he agreed with Wayne.

He wasn’t sure how he managed to get someone like you to love him, but you did. You loved him with your whole heart. You took one look at him and saw the real Eddie. You didn’t see some third year senior, or some freak obsessed with a fantasy game. You didn’t see a weird metalhead, or some kid with no future.

You saw Eddie. You saw a glimpse of him and you wanted to see more. You wanted to see more so you could love more, and it made his chest feel funny the way you decided to stick around even after seeing the person behind the mask.

And sometimes, Eddie envied how easily the relationship seemed to come to you. You would always surprise him, sometimes with dinner from his favourite or a bouquet of flowers or a tape you knew he had been wanting. You always knew when he wanted to be held or the words he needed to hear to cheer him up a little. You always knew how to make him feel special, like it was a basic instinct for you.

Meanwhile, Eddie was left second guessing himself because the last thing he wanted was to scare you away. He loved you. He loved you so much, it hurt. He loved you so much and he just wanted to show that. Hence, the picnic date.

He had gone all out, having spoken to Robin and Steve countless times over the last week to set up the perfect date setting. He cleaned out the back of his van to make it the perfect fortress of blankets and pillows. He had packed your favourite foods and even splashed some money on the slightly more expensive beer that was easier to get down.

It was the perfect set up for a romantic date, but the funny thing about Eddie Munson was that he wasn’t really a romantic kinda guy. And that was something you adored about him.

You didn’t want cheesy dates and corny lines that made you borderline feel like you wanted to empty your stomach. You didn’t want over-the-top date nights or meticulously planned outings. You didn’t want expensive beers and fancy chocolate-covered strawberries that cost three times the amount they should.

You wanted Eddie.

You wanted your Eddie.

You wanted your Eddie who made you feel good in a million different ways that no other man could ever compare to.

“Eddie,” you let out a soft, high-pitched squeal as your head fell back against the thick blanket beneath you. “Shit, I—”

“This,” he groaned, low and rough and gravelly. It made your stomach dip. His hands gripped the meat of your thighs, keeping them spread open as he leaned down to lick a thick strip along your cunt. “This is better than any fucking dessert.”

“Eddie,” you whined, your hands gripping the fabric of your pretty sundress in tight fists as he began shamelessly licking the mess you had made all over your thighs.

And you really shouldn’t have been surprised.

Eddie was a simple man when it came to you. Anything you did, the boy obsessed over because you did it and he was obsessed with you. So, his brain practically short-circuited when you came running out your house, dressed in a pretty floral dress that brushed against your thighs and had two thin straps holding it up. He about lost the ability to speak when you leaned over to kiss his cheek in a greeting, giving him the perfect view of your tits. But his downfall was when you climbed into the back of his van, giving him the perfect glimpse of the white cotton panties you were wearing that made it difficult to care about eating anything but you.

He lasted all of twenty minutes before he broke, watching a little dribble of strawberry juice drip down your chin that had him leaning over, licking up the mess before crawling over your body completely. You had breathed out his name, breathless and a little dazed when you saw the heated look in his eyes, the look that told you he wanted to devour you and that was exactly what you let him do.

But now you were two orgasms in, your body was wracked with pleasure and the boy didn’t look like he had any plans of stopping soon.

“‘s too much,” you cried out as he pushed your thighs up, almost bending you in half with your knees pushing against your chest so you were completely spread out and exposed for him. “Please, I can’t—”

“One more,” he groaned against your cunt, his nose nudging your swollen clit because he liked the way your body jerked in response. “Need you to come on my fingers, honey. Then I’ll stop, okay? Just one more, that’s all I want.”

“Mhmm,” you whimpered, all high-pitched and whiny but your obedience made him grin.

And he did intend to only make you come one more time for him. He intended to give you a break. He did. He really, really did.

But then he was knuckle deep inside you, the wet and debauched sounds of your soaking pussy echoing through the back of his van as you squirmed and moaned and screamed out his name until your throat was raw. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your thighs were shaking in his hold and you were babbling incoherently, so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t have time to warn him that something felt different, that there was a twist deep in your guts that didn’t feel familiar.

Eddie could’ve came in his pants from the sight alone.

It almost felt never-ending. His fingers were pumping in and out of you, already soaked to the wrist with your arousal before you were squirting everywhere. You were shaking beneath him, mouth parted with silent screams as you soaked everything around you. As you shook and moaned and came harder than you ever had in your life. As you did something he only thought was possible in fucking pornos.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment when your brain seemed to catch up with your body, blinking a few times as the realisation hit you like a freight truck. Your eyes instantly teared up, your hands desperately trying to pull the soaking material of your sundress over your body to cover yourself up like it would give you some dignity.

You opened your mouth. “Eddie, I’m so—”

“Did I say you could cover up?”

You blinked, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

He slapped your hands away, not allowing you to pull your skirt over your pussy. “I said,” he repeated, his voice lower this time as his darkened gaze caught yours. “Did I say you could cover up?”

You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. “No, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and the hot tears of embarrassment were quickly replaced with the warmth of his praises. “Now, lay back down and keep your legs open.”

“Eddie—” you started again, your stomach dipping when you noticed the mess you made. Not only were you soaked, but so was he. His clothes now stained darker, along with the blanket beneath you but he didn’t seem to care.

“Shhh,” he hummed as his hands rubbed up and down your thighs, completely uncaring of your arousal leaking and dripping down your thighs. “Only wanna hear your pretty moans, honey. Wanna hear how good it feels.”

“It?” You questioned breathlessly.

His grin was vindictive, almost sinister. “Wanna see you do it again f’me, baby.”

Your eyes widened. “But—”

“Nuh uh, what did I say?” He chastised softly, gripping your thighs until a soft whimper left your lips. “Now, either you let me hear those needy noises or I stuff something in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now, open those legs and let me see my pretty girl.”

.

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theemporium · 7 months

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“Baby?”

Silence.

“Babe?”

Silence.

“Luke?”

Silence.

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

You let out a small huff as you shifted once again, like you had been doing for the last fifteen minutes. Luke had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that he was already asleep and that he didn’t notice the way you kept wiggling around. But it was hard to ignore it when you were practically shaking the whole bed every twenty seconds.

“Stop being rude,” you muttered as you turned your body so you were facing him. You tucked one arm under your pillow, the other picking at the duvet in the space between you both. “I can’t fall asleep.”

His brows furrowed together slightly, even if his eyes were still closed. “You good?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered honestly.

You didn’t know why you felt so off. Everything seemed fine. In fact, everything seemed perfect. This was the first year you were invited to join your boyfriend at the lakehouse. You had met Luke just before last summer had started, near the end of the hockey season at a coffee shop. It felt like a scene written out of a book or a romcom, with him rushing out as you were rushing in—only to collide and have iced coffees split over both of you.

It had been an awkward but wholesome meeting. Luke was fumbling over his words, his cheeks burning pink and his brain seeming unable to properly work with a pretty girl right in front of him. You found it endearing, especially when Jack had opened his window to yell at his brother to hurry up before they were late to morning skate.

Luke had blurted out, asking for your number and it had been a dream ever since.

You spent all of last summer texting and calling and getting to know each other. When he came back to Jersey, you met up at the same coffee shop for your first date, which only led to many, many more. And when summer rolled around again, Luke had asked for you to come with him and his friends to the lakehouse, and you had accepted.

The lakehouse was a dream. It was the perfect summer destination, his friends were amazing and his family were even better. You got along with his mother, you bonded with his father, you laughed with his brothers, you joked with his friends. It was perfect, and yet you were still unable to wave off the tightness in your chest that hadn’t left.

And now, lying in the dark room after a long day out on the lake, you should have fallen asleep the second your head hit the pillow like Luke was fighting to do right now. Instead, you were squirming and rolling around and trying to shake off the weirdest urge to cry.

“C’mere,” Luke murmured as he opened his arms, giving you a total of three seconds to react before he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. “Talk to me.”

“M’sorry, you were about to sleep,” you muttered, your cheek pressed against his chest and it helped a little. “We can talk in the morning.”

“I don’t wanna sleep if you’re not okay,” Luke said with a frown on his face. He blinked his eyes open, the bleariness still there as he looked down at you. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”

You sighed, your arms winding around his torso as you settled on top of him. “Just feel…weird.”

“Weird?”

“Weird,” you repeated with a small shrug. “It’s probably nothing. I’m just getting in my own head.”

“Baby, don’t do that,” Luke grumbled, softly pinching your hip in retaliation as you squealed softly.

“This helps,” you reassured him. “Being with you helps.”

“It does?” He questioned, sounding adorably clueless and flattered, and it made your lips twitch.

“Yeah, it helps being close to you,” you said to him, settling happily as his arms tightened around you. “You make me feel safe.”

“Oh,” he murmured before he smiled a little. “You make me feel safe as well.”

“I’ll be fine, Luke,” you murmured, pressing a chaste kiss on his chest just where his heart was beating. “I’ll fall asleep now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But you didn’t. Because despite feeling safer in Luke’s arms, it didn’t stop the thoughts whirling around in your brain. It eased the tightness in your chest, but not the chaos in your head. And despite thinking you weren’t being obvious, Luke could feel how tense and rigid you were in his arms. He knew you weren’t fine. He knew you were getting in your own head. And he wanted to help.

“Mmph,” you let out a surprised noise when Luke rolled over, the comforting weight of his body on top of you as he lifted his head up. “Luke—”

“Do you trust me?” He asked suddenly, cutting you off.

“Of course,” you breathed out before nodding. “Of course I do.”

“Just relax f’me then, okay?” He muttered out sleepily as his hands squeezed your hips before one hand started to slip beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“Luke–” You started again, but he swiftly quieted you with a kiss. It was embarrassing how quickly you melted into his embrace, feeling your stomach dip with excitement as his tongue worked its way into your mouth as his large palm cupped your cunt.

“Just need to get that brain of yours to calm down,” he murmured between slow, messy kisses as his thumb pressed against your clit in slow circles. “Need you to just lay there and look pretty, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut as his kisses slowly trailed down to your neck.

“Good girl,” he praised in a low voice, pushing your downs until they were abandoned somewhere by the foot of the bed. His fingers softly glided through your folds, humming in delight when he felt you already dripping for him. “That’s my girl.”

“Luke,” you whispered, so aware that the house was silent and that people were asleep, but so uncaring when your boyfriend slowly worked you open. “Please.”

“I know, babe, I know,” he murmured in a hushed voice. “Just gotta trust me, okay?”

“Mhmm,” you whined, a little breathy and high-pitched, and it made his cock twitch.

You felt like you were already spiralling with his fingers curled inside you, slowly thrusting in and out as he hit spots that your own fingers never seemed to reach. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer—and then he pulled out.

“No,” you cried out with a whimper, glossy eyes finding his in the dark as he chuckled softly. “Why—”

“Shhh, gonna fill you up, babe,” he assured you, silencing you once again with a kiss as his free hand worked his cock out of his boxers. “No need to cry about it.”

Your mouth fell open with a silent scream as he slowly pushed inside you, so big and deep and overwhelming that it was hard to focus on anything except the pleasurable burn of him stretching you out. Your nails dug into his skin, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him from moving away and it was hard to think about anything else other than himhimhimhimhim—

“There we go,” he groaned, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he laid on top of you. “Takin’ me so well, baby.”

“Luke,” you breathed out.

“Shhh, just gonna stay like this,” he told you in a whispered voice, his hands tracing up and down your sides. “Just gonna keep you full, okay? We’re gonna sleep like this tonight.”

Your eyes clenched shut as he thrusted a little deeper inside you. “But—”

“Nuh uh, just like this, pretty girl,” he murmured, kissing the pulse point on your neck. “Think you can do that f’me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, clinging onto him.

“Atta girl,” he hummed. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“You always do,” you retorted instantly.

“Exactly, baby. Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”

“Goodnight, Luke.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

.

#cece's smutober #luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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theemporium · 6 months

Text

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Nope.”

“Max—”

“What?”

“You have your own jet. How the fuck are you not a part of the mile high club?”

Max frowned a little before shrugging. “It isn’t exactly my priority when I’m on a plane, schat.”

There were many perks you learnt that existed as a Formula One driver after you found yourself in a relationship with two of the best drivers in the world. From invitations to countless exclusive events to brand deals with high-end designers, from travelling the world for their job to having a comfy paycheck to be the best of the best. It was a whole new world your boyfriends introduced you to, and it never failed to make you head spin no matter how long you had been dating them.

But the materialistic perks were some of the easiest to spot—the prime example being the fact Max had his own jet that he travelled in when he flew around the world for the different races.

It had been another one of those races that you were currently flying out to. It had just been the three of you for the long haul flight and the boys had been trying everything in their power to stay awake for a few more hours so they wouldn’t fall victim to horrendous jet lag by the time they landed.

You had decided to try passing some time with games. But UNO was quickly abandoned when Lando kept trying to wind Max up with ‘+4’ cards. And ‘truth or dare’ was a bit pointless when you were stuck in the sky. You didn’t really want to start a full ass game of Monopoly (or question why in loving fuck one of the boys brought it in the first place), otherwise you’d be fast asleep before either of them. And every round of ‘two truths and a lie’ lasted less than a few seconds because you knew each other well.

You were left with a game of ‘never have I ever’ but it slowly stopped being a game, and somehow became some weird competition between the boys to try to outdo one another. Which, to be fair, was very amusing for you to watch.

Until Max had dropped the bomb on you and Lando that he had never had sex on a plane. Ever.

“But,” you paused before gesturing to the plane around you. “You have the perfect setting!”

“The setting is always a plane,” Max stated bluntly.

“Yeah but usually you’re both locked in a little bathroom, trying to be quiet and not break anything because you’re literally fucking in a box,” Lando jumped in.

Max shot him a look.

“Hey, just talking from experience,” Lando said as he lifted his hands.

“But you have the whole fucking jet to yourself,” you continued. “You could fuck as much as you please! In any position you want!”

He raised his brows in amusement. “Thought about it a lot?”

“Yes,” you replied without a moment of hesitation. “You don’t think about fucking us on a plane?”

“It isn’t the first place my mind goes to,” Max confessed with a shrug.

Lando’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though he was lost in thought. “Do you wanna fuck us on a plane?”

Max paused. “Like right now?”

“We need to preoccupy ourselves,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, trying to bite back the grin that was growing on his lips. “I can think of a few things we could do.”

Your grin matched his, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “What do you say, baby? Wanna join the club?”

“We’ll teach you the ropes,” Lando added teasingly.

Ten minutes. The teasing and the taunting and the goading lasted all of ten minutes before Max had you both wrapped around his finger. Because despite your big mouths and all your talk, it took one glance and a hand tugging your hair back before you were putty in Max’s hands, ready to comply and obey with whatever he wanted because he always seemed to be in control.

“Is this what you wanted, schat?” Max groaned as he gripped your hips, bouncing you back on his dick at the speed he desired. His cock was deep inside you, pressing against the spot that made you squirm and moan—though your mouth was otherwise preoccupied. “Wanted me to fuck you on my private jet? Wanted to show my staff what a fucking slut the two of you are?”

“Shit,” Lando whined, his hands tugging on his curls as his cock hit the back of your throat. “Max—”

“Hold it,” Max gritted out, his hands tightening on your waist as his chest heaved with soft pants. “Did I say you could come?”

“But—” Lando started, only to be cut off by his own moans.

“I said no,” Max huffed out with a shake of his head, his chin tucked into his chest as he watched the way your greedy pussy took his cock with such ease. The debauched noises echoing through the cabin only seemed to egg him on further. “Don’t be a fucking brat.”

“Please,” Lando cried, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you gagged and choked.

“Both of you are so fucking impatient,” Max grumbled as he squeezed the fat of your ass. “So quick to brag and cry. And now look at you. Two fucking whores.”

“Just for you,” Lando muttered out breathlessly.

“Of course you are. All mine. All fucking mine.” Max groaned, his voice low and rough as he felt a rush of pleasure run down his spine. “And mine to fucking control. You come when I say you come, and I don’t think either of you deserve it yet.”

You whined, the sound muffled and pathetic with Lando’s cock down your throat, but it was enough to warrant a slap to your ass.

“Careful, schat. Or I won’t let you come until the plane lands.”

.

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theemporium · 6 months

Text

To be fair to your boyfriend, you should have warned him that the brownies lying on the kitchen counter weren’t normal brownies.

It had been a mix of wine-fuelled decisions and morbid curiosity that led you to ordering the brownie mix. What started off as a normal girls’ night ended with you and a few of your closest friends scrolling through a section of an adult store website you had never looked into before. And amongst it all, you saw the advertisement for aphrodisiac-laced brownies.

You called bullshit until you read the reviews, each one more convincing than the last. With little to lose other than maybe just having a batch of completely normal brownies, you didn’t see any harm in ordering the brownie mix. And when they arrived, you couldn’t wait to bake them.

However, you had failed to mention the purchase or the plan to your boyfriend who arrived back home after a long run, seeing a plate of brownies on the kitchen counter and thinking nothing of indulging in a little treat (even if it didn’t fit his diet).

You walked back out to the kitchen when Charles was in the bathroom, not even noticing the missing brownie as you began to get to work on lunch for the two of you. Just as you were oblivious to the struggle your boyfriend was having in the shower, his cock hard and desperate and yet nothing able to sedate him as he stroked himself over and over again until he had came at least twice.

Charles was frustrated and needy when he exited the shower, his shoulders tense and his cock still painfully hard as he pulled on some grey sweatpants before seeking you out.

You leaned into his embrace when he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you into his body. You hadn’t even started making dinner yet, a cookbook and your phone laid in front of you as you flipped through different recipes to try out.

“Good run?” You asked casually, your attention still mostly focused on the cookbook.

“Mhmm,” Charles hummed, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

You opened your mouth to reply, only to let out a small ‘oh’ when you felt his hips press against your ass. Your cheeks flushed as he slowly began to rock his hips, letting out a pained whimper as he held you closer.

“Someone’s eager,” you joked playfully, but Charles didn’t seem to share the same amusement as he let out a huff of frustration as your shorts that were in his way.

“Bend over.”

You blinked, turning your head to look at your boyfriend. “What?”

“Bend over,” he stated again, just as commanding and blunt as the first time as he gently pushed your back until you were leaning over the kitchen counter, your ass pressing back into him.

“Charles, what has gotten into you?” You breathed out, though you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. If you didn’t enjoy the way his hands practically tore your shorts and panties off you until you were left in just your tank top and the apron you put on before.

“Need you, cherie,” he murmured as his hands squeezed your ass cheeks, keeping you pressed back against him with your cheek squished against the cool counter. “Need to come inside you so fucking bad.”

“What—” You lifted your head, ready to continue when you noticed the plate of brownies. It took a few seconds for everything to click before you let a low groan, trying to grasp your words as his tongue swiped along your cunt from behind. “Fuck, you ate the brownies.”

“Mhm,” Charles groaned, keeping you spread and accessible for him. “M’gonna eat you now, cherie.”

“Shit,” you breathed out, your forehead pressed against the marble counter as Charles feasted on you.

You were so sure it would have been a load of bullshit. You were so sure it was just a scam for some extra money, that the brownies would be like the box kind you could buy from the store, that this would be a funny thing to laugh back at in a few years.

You were very, very wrong.

“Charles!” You cried out, your hands desperately trying to grasp onto something, anything. Only for your boyfriend to swoop in and grip both wrists behind your back as he kept his hold on you, vigorously fucking you from behind.

“Please, baby, please,” Charles whined, his cheeks flushed and his hair dishevelled but he wasn’t done with you. He couldn’t be done with you. Most of your clothes were now on the floor around you, including your tank top and his sweatpants but he had demanded to leave the apron on.

“I can’t,” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as your legs shook with pleasure. “Too much, baby, too much—”

“Just one more,” he practically begged, as though he hadn’t said the same word the last three times. “Just need to feel you squeeze around me, just…one more.”

A mix of both your arousals was leaking down your legs, the lunch long abandoned and the time lost on you both. He showed no signs of stopping or slowing down as he pounded into you from behind, his stamina on an all-time high as bounced you on his cock like you were just a toy for him to use.

You could feel him so deep inside you. Every thrust made him feel like he was in your throat, every caress made your nerves spark tenfold and every single filthy word uttered past his lips made the coil in your stomach tighten further.

You were a fucking mess. A sobbing, moaning, leaking mess as your boyfriend fucked you over and over again, as he kept you clenching around his cock until you milked him from everything he was worth.

“That’s it, cherie,” Charles groaned as you whimpered, another orgasm washing over you as your knees buckled and your face and tits were pressed against the marble counter. “So fucking pretty f’me. So ready for one more, huh?”

“Charles—”

“Shhh, cherie, I know you can do it for me. Ma bonne fille.”

“Shit,” you breathed out, completely spent as he squeezed your ass as he slowly thrusted his cock back inside you.

“That’s it, cherie. My pretty girl, fucking perfect for me.”

.

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theemporium · 6 months

Text

“Baby, please.”

“Shhh, focus on your game, honey.”

“Just let me—”

“Eyes on the screen.”

It was torture. It was absolute fucking torture and it was driving him mad. Was it somewhat self-inflicted? Maybe so. But Jack Hughes didn’t believe the punishment matched the crime, in fact he thought it was far worse. Not that he would say as much, not when the risk that you’d torture him even more lingered in the air.

To be fair, he had been neglecting you—even if it wasn’t a conscious choice.

It was summer. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping and for the next few months, Jack was relieved from all his hockey duties and responsibilities. This meant lazy days to lie in bed a little longer, to eat a little less healthy, to enjoy time with his family and friends and girlfriend until hockey season came back around and he was forced to leave on long roadies.

You and Jack had actually decided to visit the lakehouse a little earlier than everyone else this year, long before his family or even his friends showed up. It was a win-win, with you and Jack getting (what was meant to be) a romantic getaway and Luke getting the Jersey apartment all to himself.

Except, it wasn’t the romantic getaway you expected with your boyfriend.

You weren’t under any false illusions. You and Jack were never an overly romantic couple. You weren’t expecting picnics by the lake or date nights on the boat or home-cooked meals shared over candlelight. That wasn’t how you two worked. That wasn’t the kind of couple you were. But you expected at least some attention from your boyfriend in the week you had alone before everyone else arrived.

Instead, he had stupidly listened to Trevor and Cole bang on about some video game and, without realising it, the boy had become addicted in the last few days. He was on the console, laughing and yelling with his friends he would see in less than two weeks and you were losing your mind.

You tried to ask him to join you for dinner, and he would just promise you he would join in a couple of minutes. You tried to catch up on some alone time when you were both crawling into bed, but he would either be half-asleep or rambling about the game. You had even tried to seduce the boy with a lacy set you brought with you as a surprise, and he didn’t even notice the number peeking out from under your robe.

Jack was usually an attentive boyfriend, and you knew he was only like this because he was hyperfixated on the game.

But you were fucking sick of it. You wanted your boyfriend back. You wanted him all for yourself. And you were going to show him what he was missing while he was focused on the silly, little videogame.

“Shit,” he murmured, his breathing a little heavy as he tried to keep his eyes focused on the screen. As he tried to focus on his little figurine, as he tried to focus on the bullets flying his way from all directions, as he tried to focus on anything except his scandalously-clad girlfriend currently grinding down on his thigh.

Those little shorts he owned were the death of you. And if Jack wasn’t going to fuck you, then you decided you would just have to get yourself off, maybe even remind him of what he could have had if he hadn’t been so focused on something else.

“Careful,” you teased, your voice a little shaky as you rolled your hips. “One button and they’ll hear you, baby. They’ll hear you begging to touch me. They’ll hear your pretty cries to fuck me.”

“Baby,” Jack rasped, his hooded eyes focusing on your face for a short few moments before his gaze dropped to your tits that were threatening to spill out of the lacy nightgown you were wearing. “Please.”

“Maybe I’ll turn the microphone on myself,” you continued, a taunting tone lacing your suggestive words. “Maybe I’ll let them hear how good I feel. Maybe I’ll tell them that I don’t even need you touching me to get off.”

His jaw clenched, the controller in his hands lying limp in his hold as he watched you reach up to squeeze your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers.

“Fuck, Jack,” you moaned out, your head tilting back as you began to speed up. “These stupid fuckin’ thighs. Gonna be the death of me.”

“Babe,” Jack pleaded once again, his fingers itching to reach out and grip your thighs. To properly pull you onto his lap and feel you grinding down on his dick instead. To just be inside you while you make those pretty noises.

“You’ve not been a good boy, Jack,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt yourself quickly approaching the edge. “Only good boys get to fuck me.”

“I’ll be your good boy,” he breathed out, his blood rushing to his cock as he watched you grip the fabric of his shirt, leaning against him as your tempo increased.

“Yeah? You wanna be my good boy?” You questioned, your lips twitching upwards as you watched him vigorously nod his head. You leaned forward, your fingers squishing his cheeks together as he let out a small whimper. “You think you deserve to fuck me?”

“Please,” he whimpered out.

Your mouth fell open as you finally tipped over the edge, feeling your orgasm wash over your body as you let out a pathetically loud moan. You gripped onto him as you came, letting the pleasure rush through you as you left his thigh wet and soaking and dripping with your arousal. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder as you catched your breath, as you felt his racing heartbeat beneath your palm.

“If you wanna fuck me, you’re gonna have to prove you deserve it,” you told him, still a little breathless and rough. “On your knees, baby. Wanna see that pretty face of yours between my legs.”

The game was long abandoned as Jack quickly moved to complete your request, his cheeks already flushing with need. “Yes, ma’am.”

.

#cece's smutober #jack hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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theemporium · 7 months

Text

James Potter had never felt so secondary in his own relationship as much as he did in that moment.

Between quidditch practices, last minute assignments and the buzz of the summer approaching that would mark the end of your time at Hogwarts, you and James had barely had a chance to spend more than a few minutes alone. To be completely honest, you had barely spent much time with each other around other people too, outside of the meals in the Great Hall.

It was taking a toll on you both.

You craved your boyfriend. You craved his warm hugs and his infectious laughs and the big smile on his face that would somehow brighten whenever his gaze caught yours.

He missed his girlfriend. He missed the way you would nuzzle into his side and your random rambles and the sweet smell of your perfume that seemed to ease the heaviness of his body.

Maybe it was a little pathetic, but neither of you cared. You just wanted each other, and that is exactly why James had planned the picnic out by the Black Lake during a free afternoon you both seemed to share (well, he was slacking off one quidditch practice but he didn’t tell you that).

Except, now he had you in his vicinity—in his fucking arms—and your attention wasn’t on him.

He had laid the blanket out in a spot with just enough shade for the sun not to bother either of you. He had a basket full of your favourite foods that he bribed the elves in the kitchen to make. He had leaned back against the tree trunk and pulled you against his chest.

And now after lunch, your attention seemed to be on some stupid book instead of him.

It was safe to say James wasn’t taking it well.

“Baby,” James groaned as he leaned his head down on your shoulder, a frustrated huff leaving his lips. “How much longer?”

“Just wanna finish the chapter, babe,” you murmured distractedly, your brows furrowed together as the words on the page seemed to keep a lock on your attention.

“You said that two chapters ago,” he retorted, lips brushing over the bare skin of your shoulder as he focused on placing soft pecks that would usually have you wiggling underneath him. And yet, right now it seemed like you barely noticed.

“I promise this time,” you assured him.

James let out a small scoff, this one a little bitter as he propped his chin on your shoulder and peeked over to glance at the book in your lap. “What’s the big deal anyways? I’ve never seen you so—”

“James, no!”

But you didn’t get a chance to grab the book back from him before his eyes started to glance over the page, his lips slowly parting in surprise as he read a paragraph near the middle of the page.

His hand tightened around her throat, just enough for a whimpering gasp to pass her pouting lips. His lips twitched upwards, the pressure on her neck increasing as his free hand slid down to gently trace her needy pussy over the soaked fabric of her panties. His fingers hooked the fabric to the side before spreading—

But the book was ripped from his grasp and quickly closed shut as you looked anywhere but your boyfriend’s surprised face. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment as you squirmed in your seat, contemplating if it was worth jumping into the lake and hoping the giant squid would put you out of your misery.

You wanted to say something, but couldn’t seem to bring yourself to open your mouth. Luckily for you, James was the one to make the first move to talk.

“Is this what you’ve been replacing me with, princess?” His voice was lower, and a little rougher too. His eyes narrowed in on you, awaiting a response that he already knew. But James liked to make you squirm, he liked to make you say it.

You nodded.

“That’s not an answer, baby,” he tutted disapprovingly, shaking his head. “Use your words. You seem to like them a lot these days.”

“I just missed you,” you confessed, a little breathless and flustered. “And you were busy and I didn’t wanna disturb you so I—”

He raised his brows. “So you?”

“I liked to imagine it was you, it was us,” you admitted in a shy voice, your face heating up in embarrassment. “But it was never the same.”

He tilted his head. “No?”

“You’re better.”

His grin widened, smugness and arrogance dripping oozing from him as he tugged you closer. “Yeah? So desperate for the real thing that you ran to your lil’ books to help?”

You nodded.

“Well, who am I to stop you?” James mused cheekily, enjoying the way your brows furrowed in confusion as he pulled you close until your back was pressed against his chest again. Your thighs were pressed against his, his chin tucked against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your middle.

“James,” you breathed out, but no further words followed.

“I want you to keep reading, princess,” his voice rasped in your ear, lips brushing against your lobe as he placed the book on your lap. “Read it out to me, hm?”

Your stomach dipped at the prospect. “I—”

“Please, princess?” And when he asked so nicely, how could you say no?

But James Potter was overwhelming in every sense of the word. He overwhelmed you physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. And you loved it. You really, really did. You loved the warmth of his body behind you, his thick arms around you, his curls tickling against your skin. It made you want to close your eyes and bask in his embrace.

Your brain was already moosh as you flipped the book open to the page he had interrupted you on, your cheeks already burning as you read over the words. But then you opened your mouth, ready to continue, only for James to slip his hands underneath the hem of your skirt and every coherent thought in your brain to just disappear.

“Read, princess,” he demanded softly as his hands squeezed the fat of your thighs.

But it was impossible.

It was impossible to keep your eyes on the page, to read word after word when his big, warm hands were pushing your legs apart. It was fucking impossible to read a sentence when his fingers brushed over your clothed cunt. It was so goddamn fucking impossible to care about anything else when he was hooking your panties to the side and giving him full access to your needy, soaking pussy that had been craving him for weeks.

“He dipped his head down, his—fuck,” you choked out with a choked moan as his thumb pressed teasingly slow circles against your clit.

“That doesn’t sound right, baby,” he taunted, his lips brushing against your neck as he slowly worked your pussy as if it wasn’t already wet and leaking for him. “Try again.”

“His lips worked along her thighs as his tongue darted out to taste her leaking arousal,” you breathed out, the words slurring together as you leaned your head back against his shoulder. “James, please.”

“Aw, my poor princess, is it too much?” He cooed mockingly, the smug smirk on his face plastered against your skin as he nuzzled his face further into the crook of your neck. “Maybe I need to listen to that book of yours, clean up the mess you’ve made.”

“Shit,” you hissed, your lips parting in a silent scream as he slowly pushed one thick finger into you, feeling the way you desperately clenched around him. “More.”

“So greedy,” James mused as he watched the way his fingers disappeared between your legs, the soft, debauched squelching noises your pussy was making, just for him. “Didn’t realise how much you missed me, baby.”

“So much,” you whined as your eyes fluttered shut, the book long abandoned to the side. “Needed you to fuck me so bad, Jamie.”

“Shit, honey, can’t say stuff like that,” he groaned, his fingers curling inside you. “Gotta feel you come on my fingers before I fuck you, princess.”

“James,” you whimpered.

“That’s it, baby, be a good girl f’me and come,” he cooed softly as he felt your body tense in his embrace, quickly wrapping an arm around your middle as you arched against him. “Just like that. Atta girl, princess, doin’ so fucking well f’me.”

Your body was still pressed against his when he slid his fingers out, drenched and glistening in your arousal before he lifted them to his own lips, making a point of slurping them clean before his hand fell to your thigh.

“Forgot how fucking good you tasted,” he grumbled into your ear, a little gruff and breathless. “Gonna let my cock have a taste next, princess?”

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theemporium · 7 months

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you have been invited to cece's smutober event! pick a day and dive right in. but be warned of the spooky surprises you may encounter.

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day one: steve harrington + dry humping day two: lando norris + phone sex day three: james potter + erotica day four: quinn hughes + car sex day five: charlos + free use day six: theo nott + humiliation day seven: dando + blindfold day eight: remus lupin + chocolate day nine: max verstappen + somnophilia day ten: luke hughes + cockwarming day eleven: lestappen + objectification day twelve: eddie munson + squirting day thirteen: poly!marauders + orgasm control day fourteen: daniel ricciardo + first time day fifteen: harry styles + filming day sixteen: jack hughes + thigh riding day seventeen: sebastian vettel + corruption day eighteen: steve harrington + breeding kink day nineteen: wolfstar + sex pollen day twenty: charles leclerc + aphrodisiac day twenty-one: sirius black + semi-public sex day twenty-two: carlando + seduction day twenty-three: trevor zegras + overstimulation day twenty-four: norstappen + mile high club day twenty-five: steddie + cuckholding day twenty-six: charlando + tit-fucking day twenty-seven: eddie munson + mastrubation day twenty-eight: maxiel + heat day twenty-nine: jack hughes and trevor zegras + intoxication day thirty: carlos sainz + manhandling day thirty-one: steddie + wet dream

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logging off...

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theemporium · 6 months

Text

It had been a stupid, stupid mistake to make a bet with the boys.

Not because you were scared. And not because you thought you would lose (at the time, at least). But because when the marauders made a bet, they went the full nine yards to make sure they would win. They played dirty. They bent the rules enough to make you question their ethics. They were relentless no matter how big or small the bet was, and you should have known this would just be the same.

You should have known better.

You should have never agreed to their terms.

Should’ve. Would’ve. Could’ve.

And now, you were facing the consequences of making a stupidly innocent bet with the three boys you had formed a weird ‘friends with benefits’ dynamic with.

“Look at her, Prongs,” a voice from behind you cooed, a little condescending as you felt fingertips trace down your spine. You pressed your face further into the pillow, a choked out sob leaving your lips as the simplest of touches had your body shaking in need. “That lil’ brat mouth of hers has finally shut up.”

“Maybe our princess has finally learnt her lesson,” James replied, and even if you couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smirk. The cocky, arrogant smirk that got you into this mess in the first place. “Huh, princess? Is that what’s happened? Finally got what you want and now you can’t talk?”

A pathetic whimper left your lips as you felt two hands spreading your cheeks, your ass in the air and exposing your soaking, needy cunt that was now on display for the boys. You could hear their chuckles of amusement, as their hands groped and squeezed your thighs that glistened with your leaking arousal, as they admired the mess they had made of you.

“Please,” you choked out, the fabric of the pillow soaked in your tears and drool. “I-I take it back, I—”

“You regret it now, love?” Sirius mused, his fingers softly pushing the hair out of your face so he could see your big, glossy eyes staring up at him. He could have snorted at how quickly your attention was focused on his cock over his face. “But you were so confident before.”

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt James’ fingers brush against your swollen clit—a soft, feather-light touch that made your knees buckle. “Just one—”

“No.”

You buried your face into the pillow to muffle your noises of disappointment, only to feel fingers threading through your hair and yanking your head back. You whimpered, a sound mixed between pleasure and pain, as you stared up at the boy.

Remus tsked softly, shaking his head like he was disappointed and something in your stomach dropped. His eyes glanced over your shaking figure, taking in the desperate plea in your teary eyes to the swollen lips and the mess between your legs. He looked so analytical, like you were nothing but another one of his assignments he was reading over.

He glanced back at James, an expression that was unreadable to you crossing over his face as he nodded before he looked back down at you.

Your lips parted with a silent scream when you felt James slid inside you, fast and easy with how fucking wet you are, but the stretch still made your stomach twist in the best way possible. His large hands gripped your hips, pushing you further into the mattress until he was fully inside you, his hips snug against yours.

“Do you like that?” Remus questioned.

You nodded, but he didn’t like that.

He lightly slapped your face, his lips twisted downwards in a stern expression. “I said, do you like that?”

“Yes!” You blurted out, breathy and dazed. “Yesyesyesyes—”

And Remus watched. He watched as James fucked you dumb, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you helplessly moaned and whined. He watched as you gripped the sheets in tight fists, as your body arched as you approached the edge, as you babbled out incoherent mutters after hours of teasing and controlling and taking your pleasure away.

And just before you tipped over the edge, he yanked your hair a little hard and called out, “stop.”

The cry that left your lips was pitiful as James pulled out, another orgasm ruined to join the many others from that night. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your face hot with frustration and embarrassment as Remus smiled cockily down at you.

“Aww, lil’ whore not getting what she wants?” He cooed mockingly, watching your eyes flutter shut as he tugged your hair again. “Should’ve thought about that before you acted like such a desperate brat.”

You moaned his name, but it went practically ignored as he turned back to look at Sirius.

“Make our little slut cry, Pads,” he said, the smirk on his face a little mean and vindictive. “I wanna see if we can make the pillow as wet as her needy cunt.”

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theemporium · 6 months

Text

It was meant to be a cute date day out on the yacht during summer break.

You had dedicated a week of the summer break to spend in Monaco, to just relax and spend time with each other without the concerns of flying anywhere around the world (though you knew your boyfriends would have probably booked a few getaways for you to ‘surprise’ you with in the following week). And it had been perfect.

You had spent some time with friends you missed during the first half of the season. You shared a few meals with the Leclerc family. You basked around your shared apartment and enjoyed being lazy after such a hectic schedule for the last few months.

It was Charles’ idea to take the yacht out on the water, and you and Lando had eagerly agreed.

Charles just didn’t really think it through. Between the hectic schedules, jet lag and hangovers that hit their bodies a little harder than not sometimes, it was rare to find moments to fully indulge in you and Lando without having some sort of stressor over your heads.

Whether it was late nights with the risk of missing early morning meetings, or the fans spotting you as you stumble around a club together. Whether it was exhaustion taking over your bodies through work and travel, or even just one of you not being in the mood. It was harder than people assumed to just sleep with your two partners.

And it seemed like the weeks had built up for the Monegasque.

His thoughts were anything but innocent when the three of you boarded the boat, waiting until you were a few minutes away from the dock before you shedded off some layers. His mind was spinning when Lando pulled his shirt off, the low-rise swimming trunks giving him the perfect view of his tanned torso, chiselled abs and v-line disappearing beneath the waistband of the trunks. His head was going to explode when you pulled your cover-up off, exposing a little red bikini number he had never seen you wear before as you pranced around the boat without a care in the world.

Charles Leclerc was losing his damn mind, and it was purely his partners’ faults.

It took an hour before either you or Lando noticed how touchy and clingy Charles was. It wasn’t something completely out of the ordinary for Charles’ hands to linger or for him to place a few chaste kisses here and there—but this was something else.

You noticed the way his fingers would always trace along the waistband of Lando’s trunks whenever he was within arms length. You noticed the way his gaze would always drop to his stomach and wander lower. You noticed the way his fingers playfully tugged on the strings of your bikini top. You noticed the way his focus always seemed to be on your lips whenever you spoke to him.

You noticed the bulge in his swimming trunks, but he wasn’t doing much to hide it either.

“Is this what you wanted, Charlie? Wanted to see our pretty girl on her knees?”

Charles let out a groan as his head fell back against Lando’s shoulders, his hands reaching back to hold the boy close to him as he tried not to come in seconds. Because he could have. He could have done so far too easily and he didn’t really want to deal with the embarrassment of it. Nor did he ever want this moment to end.

“Look at her,” Lando murmured, his voice a little breathless as his eyes locked on you. “She’s so good for you. Fucking lucky too.”

“Wanna be good for both of you,” you murmured, the fabric of your bikini top abandoned somewhere by one of the deck chairs as you squeezed your tits together. You leaned forward, bouncing up and down as your tits enveloped Charles’ sensitive cock.

“You’re so good, cherie,” Charles mumbled breathlessly, his chin tucked against his chest as he looked down at you. He bit down on his lower lip, a muffled moan leaving his lips as he watched the way his cock slid between your tits, the way your tongue darted out to tease his tip, the way your eyes never left his. “Feel so fuckin’ good too.”

“She always looks pretty with your cock,” Lando murmured, trying not to sound too whiny but Charles read right through him as he turned his head, his lips pressing against the Brit’s in seconds. “Mphm.”

“Don’t be jealous, mon cher,” Charles murmured as his tongue darted out to tease the Brit who whimpered in response. “M’gonna take care of you too.”

“Yeah?” Lando whispered, blinking a little dazed.

“Yeah,” Charles groaned as his hand reached back to tangle his fingers into Lando’s curls, keeping his lips close as he playfully nudged their noses together. “Need you to be a good boy for me too, gonna need you to clean up the mess I make on her tits, okay?”

Lando whined, nodding his head.

“Mes amours,” Charles groaned proudly before kissing Lando senseless, letting his other hand gently caress your head as you continued to squeeze his cock between your tits until he blew his load all over you.

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theemporium · 7 months

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It was an unwritten rule for vampires to not get attached to humans.

There was the logical side of it: the vampire would outlive the human, so there was no point of getting attached. There was the moral side: if there was no intention to turn the human (which albeit, many vampires looked down upon), then it was an unnecessary bond to form. There was the superiority side of it: why would a vampire spend time with a lesser creature?

And above all, there was the weakness side to it: if you get attached to a human, you are giving yourself a weakness for enemies to exploit.

But you were far too irresistible for Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen to avoid.

For hundreds and hundreds of years, they always had each other and that was more than enough. Through different decades and centuries, they were each other’s person. They turned together. They fought together. They lived and loved and experienced the world together. There was never a need for anyone else when it was each other.

And the night they met you, it should have played out the way the rest of them had. The hour was late, the sky was dark and the slight chill in the air added to the thrill of the hunt. It had been weeks since they last fed straight from the vein, and both of them were starting to get angsty. They wanted some fun. They wanted some entertainment.

And then you entered their lives and completely threw them off their axis.

You were a human. You were lesser than them. You were weak and fragile and in a few decades time, you’d be a blip in their memories and lives. They shouldn’t care about you. They shouldn’t have even cared about you when they first saw you. You should have been another victim on their list, and that was all.

But you weren’t.

You were their human, their pet, their far too trusting toy that they could corrupt and mould and manipulate into everything they wanted.

You were theirs.

“Fuck,” Charles let out a low groan as he lifted his head from your neck, blood messily dripping down his chin. “That’s it, pet. Fucking hell.”

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, a little bleary as the rush of the feed washed through your body. But it was short-lived when you felt a hand squeezing your face, lifting your head up as you tried to work through all the overwhelming feelings inside you.

“Such a stupid, little thing,” Max hummed, one hand holding your face in place whilst the other one stroked his cock as he stood in front of you and Charles. “You are too soft on her.”

“She’s a weak creature, cherie,” Charles retorted, his hands gliding up and down your torso as you shivered beneath his touch. “Don’t wanna break her.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what we need to do,” Max stated, his voice a little strained and breathless as he watched your hooded eyes lock on his dick, a stare of longing and neediness in your eyes that made him smirk a little. “Isn’t that what you want, pet? You wanna be good for us?”

You nodded dumbly.

“She’s perfect the way she is,” Charles muttered, his large hands feeling ice cold against your tits as he squeezed and groped them, letting out a soft string of curses when he felt you clenching around his cock. “Our perfect whore.”

“So fucked out she doesn’t even know what’s happening,” Max continued, letting out a groan as he felt himself tipping close to the edge, seconds away from coming when you stuck your tongue out obediently for him. “Fuck, look at her.”

“Atta girl,” Charles grumbled in your ear. “A perfect slut, squeezing around my cock and desperate for him, aren’t you?”

“Please,” you choked out, a fuzziness in your head that never really disappeared since you had met the boys.

“Blood whore,” he remarked with a sinister grin before his head dipped back down, fangs pricking your skin before they sunk in.

You let out a choked gasp, a wave of pain and ecstasy washing through your body as you felt him drink from you. But that’s exactly what you were for them. Their little human to do with as they please. To sit on their cock and kneel before them when they come. To offer a vein and fresh supply when they felt even a smidge of hunger. To obey and follow their every little demand because at the end of the day, they were them and you were just human.

“Our pretty pet,” Max groaned out as he finally reached his edge, tipping over as he came all over your face and tits. And just when he thought you weren’t perfect already, fucked out and on a blood high, you gave him a sleepy grin and offered your wrist as Charles continued to slurp from your neck.

“Please,” you pleaded, your tongue darting out to lick a bit of his release from your chin.

And who were they to deny their little human what you craved most when you had been an obedient thing, just absolutely perfect for them.

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theemporium · 6 months

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You thought your boys were being dramatic when they first told you about their heats.

At first, you thought it was a joke they were playing on you. You were new to the lycanthrope world, you weren’t sure of the logistics and there wasn’t exactly a ‘werewolves for dummies’ book you could check out in the library. You thought maybe this was just your boyfriends pulling your leg to have some fun.

When other sources confirmed it was real, you thought they were exaggerating the whole thing to gain some sympathy points. Max had a tendency to sometimes dramatice stuff and Daniel usually went along with it because he thought it was funny. And truthfully, you just assumed that was at play here.

But then you saw it and realised they hadn’t prepared you enough.

The only good thing was that for as long as you had been with the boys, their heats have never once matched up. One was always before the other and it meant you usually had a few days in between to rest before you dealt with the next shift. It felt like the universe was on your side.

Until this month.

You hadn’t even noticed their heats moving closer and closer together. It hadn’t even crossed your mind as a possibility. But then suddenly you were waking up to one boy pawing at your tits and the other one trying to tug your pyjama shorts down your legs and you realised just what you were in for for the next week.

They were fucking relentless. Somehow the possessive nature and horniness combined to make some weird, twisted competition between them both to be the one to make you feel the best. No matter where you were or what you were doing, one of the boys was always on you.

And sometimes they both were.

“Oh fuck,” you let out a moan as you felt Daniel press up behind you, warm and comforting and overwhelming all at once. You could only let your head roll back as his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, a small growl vibrating across your skin. “I thought I banned you both from the shower.”

“But you smell so nice,” Max whined as he nosed your jaw, his hand tracing down your body before hiking your leg up around his waist. “And you were all alone. S’not nice.”

“We just wanna take care of you, darlin’,” Daniel murmured as his teeth scraped along a sensitive spot on the base of your neck that made you whine out loud.

“You both are fucking relentless,” you moaned out, your nails digging into Max’s shoulders when the head of his cock teased your poor, used cunt. “You’re gonna fucking break me.”

“Never, schat,” Max murmured before he lifted his head, his lips tracing over yours and you could have whined when he didn’t kiss you right away. “Just gonna keep you nice and full, remember who you belong to.”

“And you’re all ours, honey,” Daniel whispered from behind, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands began to explore your body. You let out a choked noise of surprise when his fingers brushed against your other hole, teasing you as you whimpered at the thought. “Every single part of you.”

“Please,” you begged as the water cascaded down onto the three of you, hot and fast and adding to the burning need you had to have both of your boys inside you. “Shit, please.”

“Look at you,” Max cooed as he slowly thrusted into you. “S’like you’re in heat with us, just as desperate.”

Daniel’s free hand groped and squeezed your tits as his fingers slowly worked into your other entrance. “Because she’s a perfect match for us, baby. She’s our mate.”

“Our mate,” Max growled as he nuzzled his face into your neck, listening to your racing heart as they spread you open. “Ours.”

“Yours,” you cried out when Daniel pulled his fingers out, only to be replaced with the head of his cock teasing your whole. “All yours. Just yours.”

“Atta girl,” Daniel cooed softly when you let out a sob, his arms winding around you as he sunk into your ass, until they were both bottomed inside you and pressed against each other. “Such a good girl for us.”

“So good,” Max praised with a kiss pressed against your pulse point.

“Please,” you whispered, your nails leaving dents in Max’s skin but you didn’t think he would care. “Move. Use me. Fuck me. Fill me up. Pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

“Shhh, don’t need to cry,” Daniel cooed, something soft but patronising in his voice as he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in. “Gonna take such good care of our pretty mate. Just gotta trust us, darlin’.”

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theemporium · 6 months

Text

You and Lando were far from subtle when it came to your feelings for the Spaniard.

To be fair, the whole world knew about your boyfriend’s crush on his old teammate. Though most of them assumed it was a joke or an exaggeration, maybe even something both boys played into. But it was undoubtedly real. So fucking real, it was insane.

It was hard for Lando to not fall in love. At first, the relationship between them was nurturing. Lando was young and new to the Formula One world, and Carlos took him right under his wing. He was kind and funny and made the boy feel at ease whenever he was around the Spaniard. And as the years passed, those feelings went from something platonic into something more and it was like a trainwreck Lando couldn’t stop from happening. He just had to sit there and accept his fate.

And Lando loved you. There was no doubt in your mind that he loved you. But you weren’t blind, you saw the way he looked at Carlos even when he thought he was being sneaky. And after one too many drinks that made his lips loose, he had confessed his feelings for his friend.

He loved you, but he couldn't stop loving Carlos either.

And it was like that night exposed you to a whole new side of the Spanish driver, like you were seeing him through Lando-coloured glasses. And you understood it. You understood why Lando fell so hard, because you were falling right there with him.

But just like Lando, you were painfully obvious with your feelings.

Everyone knew the two of you were in love with Carlos Sainz. Your friends knew you were in love with him. The fans knew you were in love with him. Hell, even Carlos knew you were in love with him.

And he loved it. He loved the way he had the two of you wrapped around his finger. He loved your attempts to make him fall. He loved the flirtatious banter, the random but strategic touchiness, the lingering gazes from across the room. He loved the fact you two were so wrapped up in your little game of seduction that you didn’t even realise your feelings were reciprocated.

But Carlos had no problem showing you and Lando just how he felt.

“Look at you both, mis amores. So pretty on your knees for me.”

Carlos couldn’t help but adore the sight before him. Both of you on your knees before him, flushed cheeks and glossy eyes staring up at him. You were both so good for him, so obedient, so desperate to please him and make him feel good.

“Tell me what you want,” Carlos commanded softly as his fingers threaded through Lando’s curls, tugging his hair back at the Brit let out a small whimper.

“You,” Lando breathed out as his eyes fluttered shut. “We want you.”

“You want me?” Carlos mused, his other hand leisurely stroking his cock as though he didn’t notice the way you both stared at him with such need. “Go on, mi amor. Show me how badly you want me.”

Lando didn’t hesitate as he leaned forward, his lips wrapping around the head of Carlos’ cock with his hands braced on his thighs. Carlos let out a groan, his head falling back as he kept his hand tangled in Lando’s curls as the Brit began to bob his head up and down.

You let out a whimper, squirming in your position as you clenched your thighs at the sight of your boyfriend taking the Spaniard’s cock down his throat. You glanced up, already finding Carlos staring down at you with a smirk on his lips.

“Touch him, princesa,” Carlos commanded.

And you followed through with his order wordlessly, reaching down to take Lando’s cock in your hand. He whimpered around Carlos as you swiped your thumb over his sensitive, knowing just what made him crumble in seconds.

But Carlos loved it. He loved feeling the Brit whine and moan around him. He loved seeing the way his hips bucked and the way his cock would hit the back of Lando’s throat every time the boy jerked forward from the pleasure. He loved the way the boy was whining and moaning when he tugged his head back, taking his cock in his own hand as he held it inches away from Lando’s face as he came.

Lando couldn’t hold himself back as he came, whimpering at his own sensitivity as you kept stroking him until every rope of cum had been milked from him. And the boy was spent, chest heaving for a breath as Carlos spilled all over his face and chest as he reached his edge as well.

“Wanna be a good girl?” Carlos cooed, panting softly as he watched you glance between both boys with a look of desire.

You nodded.

“Clean him up, amor,” Carlos commanded softly, smiling softly when you licked the cum off your own fingers first before you leaned over, not even shy or hesitant with the way you kissed your boyfriend despite the mess on his face.

He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sight of the two of you messily making out, low groans and moans muffled by the kisses as you did just what he said until his hand on the backs of your heads made you pull away with a whimper.

“Mis amores,” he hummed in delight, his fingers itching to photograph the way your faces glistened with his release. “Is what you planned? Is this how you thought your seduction would work?”

Your lips parted in shock. “I—”

“Shh,” he shook his head, though the way his eyes darkened made your stomach twist in desire. “You’ve played your games, now I’m going to play mine. On the bed, both of you. And no touching each other unless I say. Understand?”

You both nodded.

“Good. Bed. Now.”

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