In Another Universe, You Chose Me.

ex's and oh's - CL16

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo

THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 

You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.

There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.

“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”

“Already fucking other people, hm?”

As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 

“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.

Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 

“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 

He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 

“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.

“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.

“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?

He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.

So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”

He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.

His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.

“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.

The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.

For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 

“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?

The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 

The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.

“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 

The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.

“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 

The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.

You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.

You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 

And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”

The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 

His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 

“Porquoi?” Why?

“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.

You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 

His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 

You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.

“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 

It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.

"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."

“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 

You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.

“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?

You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.

“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”

His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.

“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.

The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.

You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.

His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.

“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 

Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

History teacher Seb:

The history department plans a trip to a museum and he catches you and your friends acting out the birth of Aphrodite, he watches a bit before chuckling and posing you, gripping your chin lightly to get you to look up to him from hooded lashes as your hands lay over your breasts and over your thigh. Hey guys what if i passed out right now? hey what if i actually died dead and passed out because imagine that he has those slutty sunglasses on his head, its Ferarri era Seb with the light scruff, and the sunglasses on his head, softly smiling down at you as you pose lustfully yet demurely for him, melting in his hands as his canines shine. AND WHEN YOUR FRIEND FINALLY TAKES THE PICTURE OF ALL OF YOU HE ASKS TO BE SENT IT, MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH YOU AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!

tastes like strawberries

Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: hinting at oral, hinting at food play, no beta; we die like my soul during the Dutch anthem Word count: 221 A/N just a tiny lil blurb for cake and cunnilingus day. Set in the Fuck It universe

In which Jenson loves cake

If anyone were to ask him how he even learnt of the existence of this day, he’d have to shrug with a sheepish smile. Instagram, probably, would be his guess. But Jenson does know that it’s definitely a holiday worth celebrating. 

Balancing the box in one hand, he manages to unlock the door with the other.

“Jense? Is that you?” 

“Got you a gift, doll,” Jenson replies, his enthusiasm clear in his voice. He makes his way into the kitchen where he spots all four of his housemates sitting around the kitchen table in an attempt to finish the jigsaw Seb had gotten for Secret Santa the year before.

“Usually it’s Nando who spoils me. Wearable or edible? Or, knowing you, is it both?” 

“If you’re into food play, it can be both,” Jenson comments with a waggle of his eyebrows, making her roll her eyes.

“Happy cake and cunnilingus day, doll! Three guesses what’s for dinner tonight!” he adds, opening the box to reveal a small three tiered vanilla-strawberry cake. 

“Do you even know what that word means?” Sebastian teases him as he manages to swipe some of the whipped cream decorating the cake. 

“Cake?” Jenson quips, “Of course I do, man. It means we get to eat our favourite meal,” he adds, eyes darkening as his eyes rake over her. 

I couldn't pass on the opportunity to write a lil something something based on cake and cunnilingus day. Jenson is the the type of man who'd celebrate that day -two of his favourite things, I'm sure

@feralnando it's smaller than I would've liked, but hope it lives up to your expectations!

Quality Time

Summary: Long hair Kimi. Braids. That's it.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Nonnie set my brain on fire yesterday and I already spend so much time thinking about Kimi with long hair, it was just natural that we would end up here eventually. This is set pre-togetherness if you're reading in chronologicalish order. Find the rest here.

She’s between emails when he finally cracks the bathroom door. Leisurely as ever, he steps back into the common area in a puddle, a towel draped haphazardly around his waist. Her fingers pause over the keys at the sight of him. A bead of water is dripping along the adonis belt she’s not convinced he’s earned the right to. 

Focus. 

She lets out a sound, clicking away at the keyboard to distract herself as he moves closer. From the corner of her eye she spots him reaching out. Past her. Laura lets out a breath, letting her gaze drift back to her inbox. 

“Busy?” Alongside his raspy voice comes the crinkling sound of plastic. Before she can answer him, an ice cream cone is stuck beneath her nose. 

“Very. Cleaning up after you is a full time commitment.” Laura looks up, tone biting out at the hand he’s offered her. 

Her voice falters at the sight of him. The butterflies she’s been holding down seem to fly up into her throat. Fuck. 

“What’d I do now?” He smirks down at her, lips spreading into a grin as he bites his ice cream cone. 

“Nothing. Yet. I’m trying preemptive damage control.” 

“I’ve been very good.” 

“You’re eating the ice cream you got for me.” 

“I like vanilla too.” He bites the ice cream again. 

“You do not.” Laura swallows the butterflies in her throat. She does not at all mind the sight of his tongue swirling around the cone. 

“You were being mean.” 

“Was not.” 

“Here, then.” He sticks his hand out again, a pitiful bit of ice cream left. Laura looks up at him sharply, watching closely as he licks at the bit that’s smeared on his lip. 

“Keep it.” 

He shrugs and—before she can catch herself, she glances down—catching the towel on his waist as it shifts beneath the movement he’s made. Double fuck. 

“If you’re not busy,” He turns away, back to the freezer. “Would you?” He shakes his head lightly, sending beads of water flying through the room. 

“Again?” She’s done it once already today, before free practice. 

He turns to her, an ice cream in each hand this time. One for her, and another for him. His face is expressionless, as if he can’t believe she’d ask. 

“Wet or dry, then?” 

“Dry.” Obviously, his tone seems to whine. 

Leaning across the couch, Laura sticks out her hand, waving her wrist as she waits for the bribe. Grinning from ear to ear, he tears open the plastic wrapper before setting it gently in her hands. 

“Go get everything then.” 

“Too hot?” She’s holding the hairdryer by its barrel, sweeping it over his head as she runs her fingers through his hair, weakly jealous at how fine it is. 

He hums beneath her, his head shaking slightly., licking at his ice cream like a man in paradise as she dotes over him. Holding her own between her thumb and forefinger, Laura runs her pinky finger through his hair.  She tussles the crown of his head gently, fanning the damp hair across the back of her hand as she works the dryer across it. It’s quick work, for hair so fine, but when he feels her pull away, his head rolls back. Resting against her leg he looks up at her, a frown starting at the corner of his mouth. 

“It’s dry!” She bites at the ice cream cone, voice defensive. 

Bringing a hand up, he grabs at her wrist, dragging her fingers down to the nape of his neck. It’s damp still, but barely. 

“Kimi, seriously.” 

“Laura, seriously.” 

Fumbling with the dryer, she sets it to cold, delighted when he squeaks at the sensation. Pulling away from her, he lurches forward, doubling over himself as he shivers. 

“Fuck, kultsi.” The sound is muffled by the towel as he speaks into it, shaking slightly still. 

“Hair ties, please.” She pops the last bit of cone into her mouth and sticks out her hand, wiggling her fingers as she waits. He leans back slowly, hand trembling for dramatic effect as he places the plastic ties in her palm. “Thank you.” 

She’s slower than this morning, taking her time as she parts his hair down the middle. She gave him french braids earlier. He claims to enjoy the feeling of them better beneath his helmet. With extra time now, and no car in sight, she has the freedom to practice her dutch braids. 

Using her pinkies, she parts the hair for the first sections, sweeping the hair of his temple backward into her grasp. Beneath her, Kimi hums. 

Speaking through the hair tie she’s holding between her lips she checks him. “Too tight?” 

He hums again. She relaxes her grip, her wrist going slack as she lets up. No response. Better, then. She starts again. Pinkies out as she sweeps his hair back, over and over again.  It’s sloppier than her french braid, that’s for sure. The raised hair is off slightly, one of the strands thicker than the others. 

Grunting in frustration, she lets out a few knots. 

“It was good.” Kimi tilts his head back, resting against her thigh as he looks up. 

“You can’t even see it.” She mumbles down at him.

Wordlessly, he lifts a hand and reaches backward, tracing over the braid until he meets her hand at the halfway mark. 

“Looks good.” She can’t quite see his face, but the quirk of his lip is practically verbal. A blush threatens to creep across her cheeks.

“You’re so annoying.” She’s out of breath as she says it, trying not to open her mouth as she laughs down at him. 

“You love me.” 

“I tolerate you.” 

Kimi hums again, this time sounding mildly annoyed. Laura smiles, lips spreading into a grin as she winds a tie around the braid that rests just above his shoulder. Dragging her fingers through the other side, she gathers herself to start the process over again, resigned to the butterflies that are all but flying around her head like a cartoon as he shifts between her legs. I’m so fucked, she thinks as his cheek sits on the inside of her thigh. So fucked.  

SOMETHING WAGERED !!! JENSON B. X DRIVER!FEM!READER X SEBASTIAN V. (18+)

summary: she really shouldn't have undermined their abilities to win a bet she off-handedly made.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, dom!rbr!seb and dom!mclaren!jenson, threesome, oral sex (m receiving), p in v, spitroast 🥸/trip to paris or sumn, size kink-esque (someone choking reader to feel themselves in reader's- you'll see), praise kink + dumbification, bratty turned cockdrunk!reader

note: what if you have two papers to write but then god said "write a smut?" enjoy xx

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

she shouldn’t have undermined these bastards. 

that bet that she made with them was an off-handed comment, anyways. so why did they take it too seriously?

she had a podium streak in comparison to jenson button and sebastian vettel, always finding herself a rank or so above the two. because of her constant p2, her ego got the best of her — telling them that she would let them celebrate with her the next time they landed a place above her. 

she seemed to be hesitant at the thought of it at first— but she was more bewildered when her race engineer announced that jenson got p1 and red bull’s sebastian followed after him. she was in p3.

she had known that she had sebastian on her tail before the last lap, but she wondered where she went wrong as they sat in the cooldown room. the two men smirked and gave each other a knowing look, watching the woman as she sat there silently— unable to look at them. 

and now, a quick teasing and grinding of hips against the others later, she found herself whining on all fours between the two drivers. jenson’s cock pounding inside her cunt while her cheeks hollowed around sebastian’s length.

her eyes were teary as she took a deep breath, feeling sebastian’s hand wrapped around her neck as he groaned and swore in german.

“scheiße, schatz,” sebastian muttered beneath his breath, feeling her tongue lapping on the underside of his cock. “you suck my cock so well— and i thought driving's the only thing you’re good at.” 

sebastian squeezed her throat lightly, groaning deeply when he felt the bulge in her throat as she took his length in. “such a good girl, schatz— i can feel my throat in your cock, baby.” 

jenson chuckled breathlessly, driving his hips against her backside as he spoke, “wait ‘til you feel her cunt, mate. she’s so fuckin’ good— you’re such a good fuckin’ girl, no, baby?” 

her eyes found sebastian’s as she tried nodding. only to end up choking for a brief moment as she continued to moan around the german’s cock. 

her walls were too oversensitive from getting tossed back and forth between the two after each one of them fucked her with their thick fingers. yet jenson was kneeling behind her as if she had more in her system.

because truthfully, she did have more in her system— she just couldn’t explain it anymore. she was too drunk on their cocks that she couldn’t say anything.

sebastian took his hand away from her throat and tapped her face, “he’s asking you a question, liebe.”

she almost cried when sebastian pulled his cock out of her mouth, unable to utter a word besides from, “seb— please- wan’ your cock—“

“but jenson is asking you a question— do you even know what he’s asked, liebe?” sebastian crooned mockingly, making her shake her head in embarrassment and immense pleasure as he laughed, “oh my goodness, are you getting stupid for our cocks?”

“my goodness, gorgeous,” jenson laughed from behind, his thrusts making her moan aloud as he continued to mock her, “us winning must’ve made you dumb, huh? can’t you believe that we get to fuck you like this because you were so bratty before this week?” 

“jens— seb— ah,” she babbled, her arms shaking before she held onto sebastian’s hips. she looked up at him once more, eyes glazed with tears as she pleaded, “please… wan’ your cock so bad, seb.” 

“i know you do, liebe,” sebastian dipped his head down to peck her lips. “you knew we’d win after that bet of yours that’s why you made it, hm?” 

“such an eager girl,” jenson tsked, “you could’ve just begged us to fuck you like a good girl. you didn’t have to come bragging to us about your winning streak.” 

the next thing she knew was that her mouth was back to sucking sebastian’s cock, making lewd noises as she devoured his length. 

jenson’s cock was sending her to an overdrive, making her moan around sebastian as she whimpered. to make her body shake harder, jenson’s hand snaked around her hips and found its way towards her clit. 

“mmh- ah hah,” she tried to let out, but sebastian’s length kept her voice muffled and vibrating as sebastian moaned. 

“oh gooood~” sebastian groaned, “fucking hell, jenson keep fucking her like that.”

jenson hissed sharply, “god, she’s so fuckin’ tight around me, seb. she’s about to cum. good girl, baby— you are such a good fuckin’ girl for us.” 

she nearly screamed, too turned on by jenson and sebastian’s filthy yet praising words as she felt her legs shaking and cunt throbbing. 

“mh- ngh~ f…” jenson’s fingers continued to toy with her clit as she murmured around seb, “f- uck—!” 

her eyes began to roll back, her vision blurring and turning white as she came around jenson. jenson and sebastian groaned loudly as they both came, with sebastian’s cock twitching inside her mouth and jenson’s coating her walls white. 

her body limped for a brief moment, her ears listening to the men’s heavy breathing as they shuffled around the room. she hadn’t even bothered looking up until she saw jenson and sebastian standing in front of her. 

“mmm…” she hummed. 

“you look so pretty when you’re fucked out like this, doll,” jenson grinned at her, making her smile lazily. 

“maybe we should win more often,” sebastian snickered quietly. 

“and here i thought the prize money matters more,” she murmured quietly, making the two laugh at her quips. 

“not if we get to see you like this every win, darling,” jenson replied with a smirk, “now c’mon. drink up. you’ve promised to ride seb. up you get, sweets.” 

she never really should’ve undermined these bastards. especially when she saw how much energy they’ve had left after fucking her for hours.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen

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

Max definitely also has a mix of a praise and degrading kink. Like he'll be in the floor in front of you, having to use almost all his fingers to stretch you out and get you ready to take him, all while saying the filthiest but sweetest s hit ever like "what a pretty little slut, letting me stretch you out to take my cock, huh? you just want me inside you already, is that what it is? aw, my little whore lost all her words, do you need me to fuck it back into you? "

Also, imagine him fucking you so good that you either start speaking dutch for him or your first language. like, I grew up speaking Italian and English but when I get really flustered it all comes out in Italia so imagine him saying like "oh my pretty girl can't even speak straight and I haven't even put my dick in you yet "

(I think I have a praise kink 😐)

sadly i can’t speak anything but english sadly, i took three years of spanish but moved a few times and none of my courses lined up so it was a mess. i’m still trying to learn and have made some progress but its so hard tbh so many tenses.

no because praise and degradation are the perfect mix. he’d be staring at you so fondly sometimes, like he’s truly in love with you, while he’s burying his cock in you and calling you a whore and then spitting on you. then smiling and telling you you’re sooo pretty. his pretty slut. you can’t even respond you’re so fucked out.

can imagine max teaching you dutch while fucking you, making you repeat phrases back to him before he lets you cum, teaching you how to say something and asking you to say it to him while you’re all fucked out. “c’mon schatz, be good for me. remember what i taught you? can you say it for me?” and when you say it back to him, he’d praise you so much, “that’s my cockwhore, so good for me. just like that, say it with me, again.” and then you’re moaning it over and over because you suddenly don’t know how to say anything else with the way he’s fucking you.

once you’re done, cuddling in bed and being all lovey, he’d grin like the devil and tell you what it means and it’s absolutely filthy.

Teacher's Pet

Summary: It's your first time being a TA, but you're pretty sure some of the areas your professor needs help with are not in the job description. 

Pairing: professor Toto Wolff x TA fem!reader

W/C: 3.1k

Rating: +18, age gap, dom/sub, exhibitionism, creampie, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare

A/N: Filth. Pure filth. Absolute filth. As always on my smut - YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME. 

Masterlist | List of tags

By this time in the year, you knew the students' habits and schedule well enough to know what you did and didn't have time to do between lectures. Sometimes you had enough time to go the library to do research for your dissertation, sometimes just enough to barely make a fresh cup of tea, and sometimes - like right now - you had enough time to get absolutely railed by the professor you were under - both literally and figuratively.

You were sure that by now there had to be at least some rumors, but none reached your ears. Although there was no way that there were none, considering all the times the door to his classroom or office was magically closed when you were there together (mechanical failure of course, it was an old building after all). And if on top of that, you added the smudges in the exact shade of your lipstick ending up on few papers he graded, the fact that (at least in your mind) the scent of sex clung to you all the time, and all the hickeys and bitemarks taking deeper color over the course of a single lecture, meaning that they were fresh... There was just no way no one connected the dots yet. But officially, you were never caught, and with every time you got away with it, you got even more brazen.

That's why today he waited just a little bit longer to grab your wrist, turn you around and push your face into the pile of papers because the thrill of finishing closer to the start of the next class was too enticing. He quickly pulled down the panties you were wearing, let them fall to the floor, and threw the hem of your sundress over your waist, so he could see everything. Without saying a word, he placed a soft kiss on your left ass cheek, a complete contrast to what he was about to do. He run two fingers in between your folds, while his other hand was unbuttoning his pants and freeing the already hard cock. Both of you were expecting this to happen since the day started, you just weren't sure exactly when it would happen. So, every time your eyes crossed, every time you accidentally touched each other, every time you said each other’s names, it was almost like edging, but on a completely different and surreal level.

Sure, he could prepare you more, but he knew you loved that moment when the burn disappeared and suddenly there was only pleasure consuming your body, that's why he run his cock between your folds just enough to lubricate himself and slammed all the way in one swift move. You didn't have time to mentally prepare yourself for the familiar sensation, even though it was seared in your brain forever by now. He didn't wait at all before setting a brutal pace and pushing your hips into the edge of the desk, while you tried to hold onto the crumbs of balance you had left in your body, so you wouldn’t become a ragdoll in his hands.

His fingers were painfully digging into the skin on your hips and pulling you deeper onto his cock with every push, causing your whole body to jolt across the desk and making an absolute mess of the exams the previous group finished taking about 15 minutes ago, but that was the last think on your mind. He knew your body like the back of his hand by now, which came useful in moments like this because he knew exactly what he needed to do, to make you cum as fast as possible; when to thrust, what pace you enjoyed the most, what angles made your toes curl, and he was making use of it all, trying to force a whole goddamn opera of moans from your throat. And if not the fact, that you could already hear the students gathering in front of the door, you would have let him. But instead, you reached back for one of his hands and moved it to your mouth to at least try to muffle the whines you weren't able to stop.

What you weren't expecting was him putting more pressure and pulling you closer by your head, so you were standing up, flush against his torso, with his hips still hammering against yours, the material of his trousers and your dress preventing loud slapping from completely filling up the room. He moved the hand that was still on your hip to the neckline of your sundress and pulled it down, freeing your breasts. He gave each of them a squeeze, which made you throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder. With just your nose to breathe through, you were slowly getting a little lightheaded, so when he rolled your nipple in between his fingers and squeezed it tightly, your eyes almost instantly rolled back. You were so close, yet so far, but the hum of a small crowd gathering outside made it harder for you to lose yourself in the sensation of... him. Him inside you, him surrounding you... He was everywhere, haunting every atom of your body and your every thought, and you were helpless against the power he held over you.

- Either you're cumming in the next 10 seconds, or you're not cumming at all. - he whispered straight into your ear, just as there was a sound of a bell coming from down the hall. You lowkey expected him to start counting down, but he just added - I know what I'm choosing... - after which he sunk his teeth into the place where your neck met your shoulder, and that was the missing puzzle piece that finally completed a full picture of you falling apart in his arms. But you didn't get to enjoy that feeling for long, because he quickly pulled out after finishing deep inside you, pulled up his trousers, and put your panties that were currently on the floor in his pocket, while you were still trying to catch a breath, leaning on the desk in front of you.

With your walls spasming and clenching around nothing, you didn't even realize when he forcefully guided you to your usual seat in the first row, sat you down, and pulled the neckline of your sundress back up to hide your breasts behind the patterned material. Before he moved away, he placed one last hungry kiss on your lips and wiped the smudged lipstick from around your mouth. You should really consider stopping wearing it because it was leaving marks everywhere...

At first, you didn't even register the other students slowly filling up the room after Toto opened the door for them because your mind was still frozen in that moment of blinding pleasure. Even though your body was no longer uncontrollably twitching, your breath was still quick and shallow, your cheeks were flushed, and you were sure anyone who looked at you would be able to tell that you just got absolutely railed, but you underestimated under-slept and under-caffeinated students, who worried more about their grades and exams, than the insignificant TA.

Only about ten minutes into the lecture, your brain started comprehending reality once again, and what brought it back was a quiet question from one of the students you became friendly with over the last eight months.

- Sorry, could you repeat that...? - you whispered after quietly clearing your throat.

- Is everything ok...? - she asked. You couldn't tell her the truth, so instead you gave her a confusing look. - You look a little bit sick... Maybe you should take a day off or something? - she proposed, and you prayed for the floor under you to open up and swallow you whole. She meant well though.

- I'm fine... I just can't handle this heat well. - you lied, hoping that your words would be enough to convince her because the almost-summer temperatures were abysmal lately.

- Do you want some water? I have iced one... - she offered and the look of relief on your face told her more than your words because she bent down and took a thermal bottle covered in stickers from her bag and passed it to you. - You can keep it till the end of the lecture. - she added quietly and went back to making notes.

- Thank you... - you replied, opened the bottle, and took a big sip. It was colder than you expected, but it was your savior, allowing you to calm your body once again. You took smaller sips over the next few minutes, but then you just had to look at Toto, and you almost choked seeing how he looked at you. You didn't, but a little bit of water still dripped from the corner of your mouth, and down your cleavage summoning goosebumps over your skin.

He stopped mid-sentence for a moment, his eyes drilling into yours, but he quickly regained his composure and continued the lecture. You couldn't comprehend how he could look this put together after fucking you so hard, his giant, heavy desk was currently on a slight angle. Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle on his shirt, not a stain on his crotch. And then you felt it...

You were no longer wearing underwear. And he came inside you. It's not like it was the first time he did, but he never did that in the middle of the day, when there was no chance of plugging you or for you to clean up. You clenched up, trying your best not to let any of it leak out and stain first your dress, and eventually the chair under you. The panic and fear of finally being caught slowly coiled around your thoughts, but when you looked at him again... You realized that was exactly what he planned. He took his phone out of his pocket, and you just knew that the phone call he was taking was a complete and utter sham.

- I apologize, I have to take this. Y/n, could you please introduce the group to the concept of homo economicus...? - he asked, moving the microphone away from his mouth, his face all worried. He should get an Oscar for that performance. And you would have to work hard on yours because currently, your mouth was drier than sandpaper. You quickly nodded, took a sip from the bottle, and stood up, while Toto was leaving the room.

It took all your self-control to keep your voice leveled and steady when gravity was actively working against you while you were speaking on a fortunately familiar topic. You tried to move as little as possible, but you couldn't just stand there motionless, trying to will a large drop of cum from sliding down your thigh, with your mind.

Eventually, it did slip out of you, and you had to make a quick decision, so you started walking around the slightly raised podium, rubbing your thighs together as much as possible and smearing your mixed release all over your skin, just so it wouldn't fall below the hem of your sundress or just straight onto the carpeted floor. The sensation wasn't exactly pleasant, but it was much better than the potential humiliation you would have to face if someone realized what happened. You just hoped that if any of that panic showed in your body language or on your face, the students would assume it was because you were stressing about speaking in front of them.

But finally, Toto came back to the room. He didn't take over straight away, though; he let you finish your thought first, while he attentively watched your every move under the pretense of listening to your words. When you ended your short lecture, he apologized again, and you could finally sit back down, and pray that the heat you felt on your face didn't translate to the redness on your cheeks. You took another sip of water, eternally grateful to the girl who gave it to you, because it was the only thing currently keeping you from bursting into flames. After a very long moment, you were finally able to focus on the stack of exams you were supposed to be grading, and you did just that until the lecture ended. You gave back the bottle to the student and sat still where you were until the last person left the room.

- You're evil... - you mumbled much quieter than you originally intended, and Toto just smiled and walked closer to you.

- And yet, you loved every second of it. - he leaned down to kiss you, and you couldn't even pretend that you were mad at him, because he was absolutely right. Without breaking the kiss, he turned your chair, so he would be able to kneel in front of you, spread your knees, and roll your dress up, so he had free access to your thighs and what was in between them.

- The door... - you said quietly, and he just grinned, pushed your chair a bit further, and followed, so his whole body was hidden by the bench in front.

- No more lectures. And if someone will come for a consult... I trust you will be able to handle it. - he said and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee, and another one a little bit higher. When he got to the mess of his own doing, he dragged his tongue across your skin, cleaning the stickiness that didn't dry out only because you kept your thighs closed since you sat down.

He was slowly getting higher and higher, licking every marked patch of skin, making sure, there was no more cum on your thighs, and leaving the pleasant coldness behind. But then he moved his hands to your hips and pulled you down in the chair, so he would have easier access to your pussy.

- Relax... - he whispered almost directly against your skin and licked the outside of your folds. You didn't have any other choice than to just lean back and enjoy what was happening. You were already turned on, but this... this was different. The intimacy of his actions made you feel all soft and warm, and you slowly run your fingers through his hair, causing him to look up. You wanted to say something, but you couldn't find the right words with his tongue slowly circling your clit and finding its way to your opening from time to time. The mere look of him kneeling in front of you was intoxicating, and the fact that he was slowly summoning another wave of pleasure to wash over you was only adding to the all-consuming intensity you felt toward him.

He didn't stop until he felt your walls clenching around his tongue, and even then, he didn't retreat right away, prolonging that searing pleasure you felt all around your body. Even though your orgasm was less intense than the one he gave you during the break, your legs still felt as if they were made from cotton. You had to grab him strongly by his hair and pull him away from your core, for him to actually stop and let your body process what he just did to it.

You were physically and mentally exhausted, and if not for the fact that you were still in the classroom, you would probably just fall asleep, because the emotional drop that suddenly came over you was strong.

- I need a break... - you whispered, with your fist still clenched around his hair, and it was the only part of your body that had even a sliver of strength left in it. He gently traced his fingers down your forearm to your fingers and untangled them from his hair...

- Come here... - he said quietly and pulled you down from the chair straight onto his lap, changing the positions, so he would be able to sit on the floor with his legs straightened, and you on top of them. - You were perfect today... - he whispered, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you, and you couldn't help but hide your face in his shirt in search of familiar comfort. Sure, you two could do absolutely blasphemous things together, but in the end, he was able to take care of you in any way you needed. And after the whole day of sitting and walking on needles, you needed... this. - Absolutely divine... - he added quietly, placed a soft kiss on your temple, and kept his lips there. He allowed you to process everything that happened today at your own pace, so your brain could slowly catch up with reality and you could feel like yourself in your body again.

It took you a moment, but he was there to praise you and guide you through that path.

- You're staying with me tonight. And I'm cooking... - he stated, when you were finally able to look at him again, and you knew that disagreeing now would be a bad idea, so you just sheepishly nodded and let him help you up. - Words are still a bit hard...? - you needed a moment to think about the answer, and eventually, you nodded again, but there was no shame or fear behind your eyes.

Technically today wasn't even a hard session, but the sub-drop didn't choose, and all the emotions you were exposed to eventually had to spill over. First denial and anticipation, which already gave him control over you, then the physical overpowering when you weren't able to do anything but submit... And after that, there was fear and humiliation during the lecture, and in the and - he chose to take even more pleasure from your body, and it just became... too much.

You talked extensively about your boundaries, needs, and expectations as soon as you both realized that you wanted to pursue this type of dynamic, so you knew that if you truly wanted to stop, that option was always available. With time he learned you well enough to know what you could and couldn't endure at the moment, just by looking at you, which was both a blessing and a curse because he could push your boundaries further from your comfort zone than you thought possible. And yet, you knew that one word or gesture, and he would immediately stop. You couldn't get that trust, that feeling of safety from anyone or anything else. That's why you welcomed his arms around you; you knew that even though you couldn't find your voice at the moment, he would still be able to hear it. 

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

SOMETHING BROODY !!! MICK S. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: dilf!mick really wants more…

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), pwp, use of explicit language, unprotected sex (use protection yall) body worship, breeding kink, mentions of lactation, broody!mick

note: cursing tle anon but it’s okay she gets to have the best of both worlds with the wholesome content then the filth after. enjoy xx (this is also my tenth smut— what’re y’all doing to me…?)

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

💌re:moony’s planner is opened!!!

broody.

that was the first thing that came to mind when she saw her husband pouting in the corner of the room while their little daughter gave her slobbery kisses all over her face. he was fucking pouting instead of grinning widely at the sight of his girls— and she knew exactly why he was reacting like this. 

mick schumacher was brooding, and all she could do was giggle at the sight of his cute pouting. their daughter looked so much like him— so much like him. 

and while she was amused at the sight of him, he wasn’t feeling the same way. in fact, all he felt was nothing but pent up frustration as she continued to act all innocent— pretending like she didn’t see how much he needed her.

“da,” their little girl, minna schumacher, was indeed a delightful girl. with her pretty eyes and chubby face, she acted as a welcome distraction for mick’s needs — putting her hands over mick’s face before her open mouthed kisses attacked them. 

“minna,” mick’s wife said with a giggle, smirking at the german driver’s direction as she continued, “dada’s upset no? give dada a kiss? maybe that’ll help him.” 

mick scowled at the direction of his wife, watching her fall from laughing hysterically before his eyes looked down at the baby.

“da da da,” minna babbled, letting out a high pitched squeal when mick chomped on her little fingers. 

“num, nyam nyam— so cute i could just eat you up!” mick exclaimed, grinning as minna giggled. “you deserve everything, minnie baby.” 

mick looked up to see his wife shifting on her seat, the tank top she'd just put on was tight around her chest as she adjusted the straps. his eyes continued to watch as she adjusted her top, not even noticing the smirk on her face before she slightly tugged down her shirt — her breasts were plump and taunting him. 

“da!” minna exclaimed, getting frustrated at the lack of attention from her father before mick looked back at his daughter with a cheeky grin. 

“‘m sorry, liebe,” mick murmured, pressing loud kisses all over the infant’s face as he continued, “dada will give you everything youuuu want~”

“in fact,” mick glanced at his wife, “if you ask dada for a sibling? i’ll give you as much as you wan’, little baby.” 

“you don’t even have to ask for one,” he grinned cheekily, now staring at his wife as his eyes darkened. “i’ll make sure you’re happy with all the siblings you’ll get before you can even walk.” 

his wife shifted in her seat once more. 

yeah. he really was brooding. 

a whimper escaped her mouth pathetically, her legs hooked over his shoulders as he grunted quietly. 

he covered her mouth and shushed her, “shh, you don’t want her to wake up, schatz.” 

her eyes were covered in tears, her pussy too overwhelmed with his girth as he pressed his hand at her stomach. his eyes gleamed in excitement, “ya feel that?” 

she nodded frantically, her senses turning up to a notch as his cock slid in and out of her like it was a puzzle being teased to be completed. “that’s me, schatzi.” 

“you look so fucking hot, love,” he crooned quietly, his body weighing the two of them down as he continued to fold his wife in half. 

he looked down at her writhing body, admiring the youthful glow that mixed with motherhood as he grinned. her postnatal body — despite having a baby who’s close to turning one — showed nothing but the marks of love and devotion for their child. one that they made and continued to raise with pride. 

he just couldn’t believe that this body grew the little one that they have now. his wife was a goddess and he couldn’t find himself denying that. 

his thrusts turned frantic as he chased his high and hers, hips slamming against hers as she whimpered quietly, her fingernails making marks on his back as he let out a strangled moan, “god, you’re so fucking beautiful. so good f’me— such a pretty woman with the prettiest body.” 

“growing my child in this body— fuuuuck~” he groaned, “gonna give you more to raise, schatz. y’want that?” 

“mm- hm,” she nodded as she cried quietly, her sensitivity increasing as her walls tightly clenched his cock. 

“gonna fuck you ‘til you have more of my kids,” he whispered in her ear, his fingers rolling her nipple as liquid escaped her breast. “gonna fuck you full— make sure that these tits are full of milk again— y’want that?” 

“you’re gonna give our girl more siblings,” he whispered heatedly, his cock stilling to fill her cunt to the brim as he groaned. 

she let out a high pitched moan before her body eased from the orgasm, feeling herself stuffed by his cum as her body finally calmed itself. 

full was what she felt. content was what they both felt as they cuddled closer, legs tangling together as they breathed quietly. 

then she spoke with a grin, “you really were brooding.”

mick chuckled and shoved her playfully, “shut up.”

hi uhhh house being a more oral/handsy top bc he doesn’t have to strain his leg or get his old man dick hard. so he'll call you into his office just to plop you in his lap and grope you. pinch you. scratch you. bite you. lick and suck gross tacky hickeys into your neck while he fingers you. and you KNOW he’s a yapper. and he’s mean.

“oh, please, i’m barely touching you. and i KNOW you’re not a virgin. so you’re either just moaning for attention or you’ve never had a half-decent orgasm in your life. which is it?”

“ugh, look how wet you are. got your whore juices dripping down my wrist. you’re fucking pathetic, you know that? you came over as soon as i called you. just couldn’t resist opening your legs for a man twice your age, huh? is that your daddy’s fault?”

“you know what’s fun? if i wanted to, i could just page my team and make them watch you. i could call them in, tell them it’s a really urgent update about a patient, and instead just show them this dumb little whore i have cumming all over my lap. ah-HA! i felt you clench at that, you slut. want me to do it? seems like your cunt wants me to.”

(he slaps you on your clit) “get on the desk and spread ‘em, bitch. i’m hungry.”

ohne leuchtturm

➝ request: could you write something angsty where the reader and toto had a previous relationship but broke up/divorced due to him never being home and then one night [...] they encounter each other at a bar in her hometown

➝ word count: 2,3k

➝ warnings: alcohol consumption, angst and sad toto

➝ author’s note: well, is like miley says, "nothing breaks like a heart".

Sitting alone in a corner of the Esterházykeller, you were sipping a pint of beer without much interest. You probably looked ridiculous, being alone at a bar, but you didn’t care. Your mind was not with you as you sat inside that stuffy pub in the heart of Vienna.

You were thinking of the night you first visited that bar, so many years ago.

It was one of those hot and rainy summers in the city, perfect for staying at home, reading a book, or cooking yourself dinner. It was your favorite way to get your mind off of the constant grind of numbers and figures you dealt with at your day job.

However, some colleagues convinced you to go out for a night instead of spending another quiet evening at home. They’d picked one of the oldest bars in the city, and you decided that it wouldn’t hurt to get out for the night. 

"How naive", you thought to yourself, taking a sip of beer.

You remember it being very warm outside that night, years ago, and the rain had made it humid, and it was even warmer in the crowded bar.The fans scattered across the ceiling of the establishment did little to cool the place. Loud conversation mingled with laughter and the sound of mugs clinking and cutlery scraping on plates. As you followed Fritz and Lena around the bar, you started to wonder if that was a good idea, especially after someone that almost knocked you over with their elbow, sloshing the mug of beer you had in your hand. 

You caught yourself and turned around, catching sight of the tall man that was now responsible for the front of your blouse being soaked with icy liquid. Irritated, you were about to say something unkind to him when your eyes met his. As he apologized, you felt like the lively pub around you had gone silent, and all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating in your chest.

— Would you like another beer?

You sighed as your attention turned back to the present. Ten years later, you were sitting in the same bar, with the same beer, and the same tall man standing in front of you. 

— Toto?

— Good evening, Y/N — he said, with a small smile.

— What are you doing here? — you asked, dryly. You weren’t sure you actually cared.

— I'm visiting the children — he replied, hesitating for a few seconds — Well, visiting Rosi. She's in university now.

— Studying Biotechnology, right?

— Yes. And English literature.

You smiled.

— What about Ben?

— He’s in California, studying business.

— Is he preparing to be your successor?

He laughed.

— Definitely not, and you know that.

Of course you did.

After your first disastrous interaction, Toto made sure to make up for the embarrassment he’d caused you by ordering your another pint of beer, as well as a ride back to your flat. The initial kindness turned into an exchange of phone numbers. A few phone calls later, you met up with him again, in the exact same bar.

Before you realized it, you’d fallen completely in love with his wide smile, his deep voice, and his brown eyes, especially the way they showed so much emotion. Toto was the one, the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Your companion. Your partner. Your love.

Until he wasn't anymore.

— How are you? — he asked, sitting down in the seat across the booth from you. 

— I'm fine — you murmured, looking down at your beer mug.

— Still working at the bank?

— Yes, still at the bank. And you, still flying around?

Toto smiled sadly.

— Yes, still flying around.

You weren’t sure what to say. Looking down at your half-empty mug of beer, an ache came to your chest.  “Why would I expect him to have changed?”, you thought, pursing your lips.

You weren’t some naive little girl. You knew from the time you first met him that Toto was a busy man with a demanding job that entailed more days traveling than not, flying all around the world, working on the project that he’d said was “the most important of my life”. You accepted it initially, without hesitation, choosing to accompany him, traveling with the team to races around the world. It was worth it for you to give him your support, and more importantly, your love.

However, at some point, how you felt about the F1 circus changed, and how you felt about his team changed. You no longer felt like they were a family that had taken you in, but your competition for the attention of the man you loved, and dedicated so much to.

It was a fight that you knew you were going to lose, but you insisted on fighting anyway.

— Did you expect another answer? — Toto asked quietly, making you look up at him.

— Honestly? — you shot back, your eyes returning to the whitish foam in the mug — No.

You’d never been good at lying. 

— I thought you’d have gotten better at lying  since we broke up, Y/N.

— I'm not lying.

— Yes you are. I know this because you never look me in the eye when you lie to me.

— It’s very presumptuous of you to assume that you know whether I’m lying or not, Torger — you replied, your voice filled with more acid than you’d intended.  However, that only made Toto smile.

— You really haven't changed at all, Y/N — he muttered, before signaling to a passing waiter and ordering two more pints of beer.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between you. As much as the bar was crowded and stuffy, you felt an uncomfortable shiver run through your body. You felt transparent, like Toto could read you like a book that he casually picked off of a shelf after years of being placed there. You felt like, even years later, he knew every word and every paragraph of you. 

When the waiter brought out the fresh glasses of beer, Toto thanked him before taking a long sip. As he set his mug down, he had a little foam on his upper lips, which made you smile.

— You’ve got something there — you muttered, pointing to your mouth.

— Oh yeah — he said, wiping his mouth — Thanks. At least now you can say that you've seen me with a mustache.

— A rare sight, considering you're incapable of growing a beard.

— I'm not incapable, I just don't like it — Toto answered — And you know that.

— I think you should try it again. It could make you look more handsome.

He smirked.

— You mean you still think I'm handsome?

— If I didn't, I wouldn't have stayed with you for six years, would I?

— You could have stayed with me for my personality.

— No — you said, taking a sip of beer.

— Or my performance in bed — he said quietly, a smirk on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip. You could deny it, but it was pointless, especially when Toto knew you so well. You had stayed with him for his handsome features, and for his kind, thoughtful personality, but it was the way he made you feel in bed that made you stay long after your relationship had become torture.

Toto knew your body like no one else. He knew how and where to touch you, to kiss you, to make you feel like you’d gone to heaven. He knew what every little sound, every whisper and gasp meant from you, he knew all of your little quirks. He always knew exactly when you were about to climax, because of the way you would dig your nails into his shoulder, and he used this knowledge to incredible effect.

And then, he became hell.

There was more silence at the table, the two of you staring at each other, searching for the right words for that moment.

— You still haven't told me the truth.

— About what?

— If you expected me to give another answer about my work.

You sighed.

— Yes, Toto, I expected another answer.

— Did you expect me to step away from Mercedes? 

— I was hoping you realized you could be — you hesitated, the word stuck in your throat. You wanted to say, you needed to say it. But after four years, it no longer made sense. He had moved on, just as you had moved on. However, you couldn't help but look back.

— Could be what?

— Using your time better — you finally said, looking back down at your mug, which was already nearly empty. Toto smiled sadly at you again.

— You still think Mercedes is a waste of time, don't you? — he asked.

— I just wish you could have been content with sticking to one role — you shot back.

— You know that…

— I know, I know, that you were never one to sit in an office — you interrupted  — I know. I was your partner for six years and I know how restless you get. But as much as I admire that about you, I abhor it, because that's precisely what robs people of you when they need you.

— Do you think the team takes me away from other people?

— No. You do it yourself — you replied emphatically.

Toto looked at his mug thoughtfully. The conversation had veered into dangerous territory for both of you. It had been painful to realize after a long time that you always put your relationship with Toto first, but you weren’t his priority. Even years after the painful end of your relationship, you still felt like it was a wound that was open and bleeding.

After all, you still loved him.

You loved his dimple-framed smile, his deep brown eyes, and his unkempt hair. You loved his voice, the way his accent danced with his words, and you loved his laugh. You loved his bad jokes, his witty observations and his far-fetched ideas.

You loved him.

— Can I ask you something? — he murmured, his eyes still fixed on the mug.

— Yeah?

— Would you be able to ever forgive me, Y/N? — Toto said, raising his eyes to look into yours

— For what?

— For taking myself away from you?

You felt your heart pounding again.

You had waited a long time for those words, almost an eternity. But now, you got no satisfaction out of hearing it — it only made you more sad.

— I don't think apologizing to me is the way to go.

— Isn't an apology what you wanted to hear, Y/N?  — he asked.

— Maybe, but what's the point now? — you said, feeling your throat tighten.

— But, I want to fix things...

— You're four years late, Torger — you said, cutting him off. You felt your eyes start to sting at the realization that it was too little, too late. The conversation you were having with him, calm and civil as it was, needed to have taken place on the warm summer night that your relationship imploded, but neither of you were ready to have this conversation back then, or at any time in the last four years. You weren’t sure you were ready now.

— Y/N…

— We should have sat down a long time ago and defined what we wanted from each other, and from our relationship. We should have been more mature and more rational instead of yelling at each other over everything. But, if you ask me, I'm sure even if we had talked, it would have ended in the same way — you said, trying to keep your voice even as you held back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You didn't want to cry, but at the same time, it was like your heart was begging you to let out all the pain you've been carrying since the day you left Toto's apartment, never to return.

He stared at you for long seconds, before drinking what was left of beer in the mug.

— We would have been married if we'd talked.

— I couldn’t marry someone who is already married to their work — you snapped.

— It’s not too late for a divorce…

You laughed.

— You would never give up the team, Toto.

— For you, I would — he said, making your stomach churn — For you, I'd give up the team, all of the travel, the busy schedule. I would give up the houses in England, Switzerland, and Monaco. I’d go back on my decision to not have any more children and give you as many as you wanted to have. I would give up everything for your love.

A tear trickled down your face. You quickly wiped it away, trying to bring yourself back to the present. That was hypothetical, not real. You would never get back together, it was a fact. But knowing that Toto would be capable of all that made your heart beat faster.

Maybe your love didn't go away, but was just buried under so many years of sadness and frustration. Maybe it was still inside you, hibernating, waiting for the time when the winter between you would come to an end and the spring flowers would finally bloom. Maybe he just needed that conversation.

Grabbing your bag, you got up from the table, your face fixed in a serious expression. 

— Are you leaving?

— I don't want to be out too late.

— Do you want a ride?

— No… no, I’m fine. — you replied, while looking for your wallet — How many beers have you had? I wouldn’t get into a car with you.

Toto smiled.

— I suppose that’s fair.

After placing a twenty Euro note on the dark wood of the table, you were about to turn towards the stairs leading outside when you felt his hand close gently around your wrist.

— Y/N.

— Yeah?

— If you still want this… I still want this.

Giving you a pained little smile, you could only say one thing.

— Goodbye, Torger.