CeruleanWind
Fandoms
- Formula 1 RPF (11)
- Top Gun (Movies) (8)
- 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs (4)
- Breaking Bad (2)
- Gran Turismo (2023) (1)
Recent works
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Summary
Quinn sighs and scrubs a towel over his face, then drags it through his damp hair. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he looks at the ceiling for a moment, opening and closing his mouth a few times. Then he sighs again and asks, “Is it weird that Kaprizov called me cute?”
Or: Kirill flirts with Quinn during a game. He lets Kirill take him home afterwards.
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Summary
Once Charles steps into Max’s bedroom, he’s met with something that was very decidedly not here the last time he came to visit like this. To be fair, it was late, and he was drunk, and he was certainly not paying attention to Max’s decorating skills, but this isn’t something he could have missed.
A very large mirror sits up against the wall, facing the bed. It’s as tall as they both are, and as wide as the two of them standing abreast. It’s huge, and it makes Charles swallow thickly as he realises why Max has brought this into his home. “Oh,” he breathes. Max has taunted him with the idea before—he’d bring a big mirror in, fuck Charles in front of it, show him how pathetically beautiful he looks all spread out on Max’s cock—but Charles thought that was fantasy, that Max wouldn’t ever think to act on it.
Clearly, he was wrong.
Or: Max surprises Charles with something they've both been wanting to try. Charles is very, very into it.
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Summary
“So wet,” Marina murmurs, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear before looking down to admire her prize. “Aren’t you? Have I been neglecting you?” She reaches out to drag her fingertips over Sabrina’s soaked underwear, her thumb brushing over the slight swell of her clit.
Or: Sabrina gets awfully pent-up while Marina is out running errands. Marina thankfully comes to the rescue.
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Summary
“Going somewhere?” Max grins at him. He’s so fucking cocky.
Charles nods, feeling jerky and frantic. “Yeah. Really—ah, really have to pee.” He twists to cross his thighs over one another, glancing up at Max and resenting how his eyes gleam. Charles knows that look—he’s quite accustomed to it—and every time it doesn’t end well.
“I don’t think so,” Max finally says, using his hold on Charles’ bicep to lead him down the hallway. “If you really had to go, you’d have done it by now.”
Or: Charles gets desperate during a race. Max takes a particular interest in it.
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Summary
He does like them, just a little, as much as it embarrasses him to admit it to himself. He studies his reflection in the mirror, his gaze tracing where the thin strappy waist wraps around his hip and connects the two tiny pieces of fabric. The panties do an extremely poor job of covering him—the tip of his cock seems to slip out into the cool air no matter how Max arranges himself—but he somewhat likes it, likes feeling so exposed, like he’s nothing but a meal.
Or: Lewis gifts Max an article of clothing he's never dared to try on before. Max likes it more than he probably should.