Glory Days- S. Vettel

tenderness // mick schumacher

summary: soft aftercare with mick <3

authors note: first post of 2023 :)) thanks for sticking with me !!

mick has known about his gfs anxiety and vulnerability around sex since the early days of the relationship and they promised to take things slow

he’s always been the sweetest and most attentive lover in and out of the bedroom

so when she starts crying after their bout in the sheets one afternoon, his first instinct is to panic

“what’s wrong, leibling?” he says softly, using his thumb to brush away the tears

“it’s been a weird week. my emotions have been all over the place.”

snuggling into micks side, resting her head on his chest as he kisses the top of her head softly

“and the adrenaline drop isn’t helping.” he said quietly, running his fingertips over her skin

“it’s okay, schatzi. i love you, y/n. and I’ve enjoyed every minute we spent in this bed today.”

he’s flicking in his mind through this little imaginary file deck of things that they usually do together after sex and he’s trying to decide what might relax or cheer her up the most

because he’s not always okay when she’s not okay, especially if there’s nothing he can do about it

“do you want a warm shower, maybe we’ll take angie for a walk afterwards?”

“I’d really like that.” she says, tangling her fingers with his. “if I join you in the shower, do I get a scalp massage?”

warm showers have always been one of micks favourite ways to reconnect after sex

just holding her close, standing skin to skin under the warm water, massaging the aches out of her body

✨scalp massages ✨

massages are one of her absolute favourite things

massages have started many a night of passionate sex, like the afternoon they’d just had, which started with warm massage oil and a stress relieving back massage and had ended with two orgasms

but his all time favourite form of aftercare is a romantic walk with angie and his girlfriend

to him it’s the most intimate thing in the world: something as mundane and normal as walking his dog with the woman that he loves

they dress after the shower, in comfortable clothes and stolen kisses as they let angie into the bedroom

“who’s a good girl?” y/ns face brightens instantly when she sees the dog, kneeling down to scratch angie behind the ears, tail wagging furiously

it’s a perfect way to end the afternoon

walking around genolier holding his lovers hand on one hand and Angie’s leash in the other

it’s so mundane and casual, breath fogging in the air as they buy hot chocolate from a street vendor

he wouldn’t have it any other way

SUNDAY PRE RACE, 2022 US GP | by andy hone

baby trapper wilson... oh i'm unwell, oh take me to the hospital

you're wilson's pretty young thing. you're the arm candy he carries around, the kind of girl that gets stared at wherever she goes. and he's him, he's the sweetest man ever, the most caring, gentle, kind man you've ever dated. you're young and naive and he's divorced thrice, that's not lost on him. or you. but you like it, you like that he's older. but for how much longer? how much longer will you let him subliminally make all your decisions? even when you think you want something, you scarcely realize that he's the one who put the idea there in the first place. you're so fucking naive, so fucking stupid, he thinks sometimes. and he loves it. you don't talk taxes or bills or medicine or divorces. he likes that. you talk about inconsequential things that you'll grow out of a month or two later. he's always afraid he's one of them. he's so afraid of you growing up or changing or anything because he knows deep down that he's alone at his big age and you've got the whole world wanting you, if only you stopped seeing him, if only you stepped outside to the world he's shielding you from.

it starts that way. it starts with that fear.

that's why he doesn't let you take birth control. he strictly advises against it, purely his medical opinion of course. he'll wear a condom, he doesn't want your hormones to be so imbalanced, that's dangerous. and god forbid your taste in men changes and suddenly you feel stupid for wanting this old man as much as you do. so you shouldn't take pills. and iuds are too scary. he pledges to always wear a rubber, for your sake and his. you don't doubt him once. why would you? james wilson, doctor james wilson, is the most responsible, sensible and well adjusted man you've met. you trust him, always, to be good to you and only want the best for you. so you agree, and he tells you that he loves you. because he does, the guilt is caught like rheum in the back of his throat.

you're all over him, giddy at his touch and so wet and pliable under him and he knows you're ovulating. even if he wasn't tracking your cycle, he saw you were in your best mood. so hungry for him, and he intended to give you exactly what you wanted. but to break the promise he made, the one he never intended to keep, he had to make you cum as many times as possible. till you became a weak puddle of desire and need. till you became incapable of responsibility. he devours you. his tongue and fingers work tirelessly to bring his plan into fruition. he's fucking you like he knows he'll be missing out on nine months of this. and you're begging him to be inside you, fill you up. it's till you're tugging at his hair and pleading inside, please james, inside... me till he thinks you're ready. or he is.

he kisses you, tasting of you, smelling like you. you taste like nothing, just yourself; clean, pure, just the way he likes you. his tip ghosts your entrance and you're quick to buck your hips to meet his. that is, until god knows who reminds you to be responsible. you gesture at the drawer next to the king sized bed. you don't trust yourself to be coherent. wilson sighs, it's the silent kind of sigh he does when he knows his patient is dying or house is going to do something stupid and reckless. for a moment there he really hoped it would've been that easy.

he began rubbing circles on your clit. you looked away teary eyes, overstimulated, overwhelmed. you pleaded, you begged. he shushed you, he shushed you like a crying child. he placed small, soft kisses on your body, almost as if he was afraid. he opened the drawer, took out a condom. he tore the wrapper and watched you exhale, relieved. you spread your legs instinctively at the sound.

wilson enters you, bare. and fast. so you don't dwell on the feeling of his tip for too long. his hands run along your sides to soothe you, as him. his head falls forward at the sensation of your tight, spasming cunt and he sees reason in doing this all over again. his forehead touches yours. it's all so tender, you think, all so sweet and beautiful like james himself. you open your eyes to look at him. his graying hair sticks to his forehead, glued by the sweat. there's a sheen around his mouth from where it once was. he has these fine wrinkles that seem more prominent in the low light. he has those rough, experienced hands that hold you in place, because you need to be held in place. you need to be pinned down where you belong because you're restless and young and hungry for more more more. you touched his hair, his cheeks, his face, his lips. all of it.

"i love you," you told him, your voice small.

and that fear dissipated into the steamy, sex-smelling air. it was his fucked up way of thinking you wanted this. his strokes were deep, hard and punctuated with grunts, just the way you liked. he took things slow, promising to make you feel every inch of him. you clenched around him in that painfully delicious way that made him cum in minutes. he muttered a string of profanities.

he looked down at your messy, glistening cunt and thought, this is what it will look like. this is the sight he'll see in a few seconds when he fills you up and lets it drip out of you. he lets his eyes rake over the rest of you, all changed and plump in due time. and then he'll have you, he'll have baby wilson and all the people in the hospital to brag to. he'll take you wherever he goes, conferences, talks, medical stuff you never had to attended before. he imagines being seen with you and your creation in the hotel lobbies. "doctor james wilson," he'll introduce "and my wife." he'll say with a loving, doting smile. it could all be so perfect and sappy and comforting.

his hand now pressed your thighs into a gruelling mating press. he had to go as deep as he could. he was close, he could feel it. his paced switched from slow caresses to hard smacks. your body pained in this new position for a while, but you liked it so very much. you arched your back, you moaned so loud the walls reverberated them back to you. god, he fucked so good when he wanted to. you wonder why he never pushed you this far before.

"i'm gonna cum. baby, i'm gonna cum." he left inside you unspoken.

you nodded, feeling yourself close for the hundredth time today. his cusses turned into i love you's. he threw his head back, his hot, white seed spurred inside you. comfortably. like that was where it belonged anyway. you came seconds later, on the verge of passing out. he stayed perfectly still inside you. he exhaled, almost like a sigh. he couldn't pull out of you, not until he's sure you're going to get pregnant.

your lips utter a silent thank you, almost like a prayer. wilson shakes his head, telling you there's no need. he kisses you on the cheek before finally pulling out. you fall asleep in seconds. so peaceful, so oblivious.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 (kr7) 𝐱𝐨 ୧˚

★ requested﹕yes/no — summary﹕in which you share chocolate, childhood memories and maybe a few kisses — warnings﹕another shit ton of pure fluff, crying but not necessarily angst, google translated finnish, probably not well proof read, kissing (gagg!!), childhood best friends to lovers, family friends, use of 'y/n,' tell me if there's any i missed!! — pairing﹕kimi raikkonen 7 x reader — w/c﹕ ★ start a/n﹕hihii! second fic with my fav retired driver. i srsly dont see enough fics with him, so i decided to try to write my own. im so busy with schoolwork n i should be doin it rn buuuuuuuut i couldn't get this idea out of my head 🤭🤭 ౨ৎ 𝑫𝑻 (tag list) ;; none yet but open :)

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౨ - 6 yrs old - ৎ

Little Kimi stood over you as you cried on the floor of your bedroom after you hurt your hand from drawing.

"Y/n?" Kimi crossed his arms.

You sniffle, trying to stop the tears. "..yes, Kimi?"

"Do you like Kit Kats?" You nod in answer, a little confused as to why he might be asking that.

Kimi takes out something from his pocket. "Have a Kit Kat." He takes off the wrapper, breaking the Kit Kat in half. He offers one Kit Kat piece to you. You hesitate before taking the Kit Kat, giving it a small bite.

Kimi sits in front of you in a criss-cross, placing his Kit Kat on the wrapper that layed on the floor next to him. He takes your hurt hand, giving it a little kiss. You wipe your tears with a smile.

"Better?" Kimi asks, a little softer in tone this time.

"Better." You nod, smiling widely. Kimi gives you a small smile, taking a bite of his Kit Kat.

౨ - 11 yrs old - ৎ

You watched from the sofa as Kimi walked into the pantry after a long day of karting. He came out with an unwrapped Kit Kat in his hand.

"Hi, Kimi-Kat." You say, going back to watching the TV.

Kimi tilts his head at you, visibly confused, his eyebrows furrowed. "'Kimi-Kat,' huh?" He asks curiously, in his usual monotone voice.

"Your favourite chocolate, Kit Kat + Kimi = Kimi-Kat!" You giggle from your seat.

You couldn't see it, but Kimi smiled. "Only you're allowed to call me that, then."

౨ - 22 yrs old - ৎ

Kimi throws off his racing suit as he enters your room, shutting the door behind him. You look up from your book as you sat on your bed.

"Bad race?" You ask softly, patting the seat next to you. Kimi flops down next to you.

"Yeah." He mumbled in response, looking at the ceiling as he layed on the bed.

You take something from your snack stash, taking the wrapper and cracking the chocolate in half. "Have a Kit Kat."

Kimi looks at you, then the chocolate in your hand. He gives you a small smile.

"What?" You look at him curiously, the Kit Kat pieces still held out in your hand. "I'll take both pieces if you don't want it. You always give me Kit Kats when I have a bad day. I should return the favour."

Kimi's small smile turns into a grin. He doesn't say anything, but he takes one Kit Kat piece and bites it. You smile at him, placing a bookmark in your book and putting it on your bedside table.

"Better?" You ask softly.

"Mm." He responds, finishing his Kit Kat.

You raise your eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean, Kimi-Kat?"

"I'm better. Ish." He shrugs.

"Kimiiii, what can I do to make it better?" You furrow your eyebrows, pushing some of his hair so you can see his face.

"A kiss."

A kiss?

You can't help but blush.

"Does the look on your face mean I can't get a kiss and my day can't get better?" Kimi smirks at you.

"Asshole. C'mere, Kimi-Kat." You wrap your arms around his neck, your lips meeting in a gentle manner.

Kimi grins against your lips, placing his arms around your waist as he let's you tackle him.

His tongue slides in, both of you tasting the sweet chocolate on eachothers lips.

A few moments later, you pull apart, looking into eachothers eyes. "I love you as much as I love Kit Kats." You giggle.

"I love you as much as anything." Kimi responds with a happy sigh.

chocolate love ; fin.

☆ end a/n﹕working on a better cover for fics once im free of school work! have a good day/night, angels <3

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Lip Gloss [A.D.]

Art Donaldson x reader (x Patrick Zweig)

summary: Art loves when you kiss him while wearing lip gloss and it gets all over his own lips. What he loves even more is when you get on your knees for him and he ends up with lip gloss stains all over another certain body part of his.

warnings: smut 18+ (oral m receiving, fingering f receiving, handjob, reader and Art have sex next to Patrick who is asleep but they have permission, submissive-ish!Art, a bit of voyeurism from Patrick – he doesn’t ask but for the sake of this fic we’re assuming consent bc it’s fictional, m masturbation, spitting, cum eating, pet names: good boy, baby, reader says Art is ‘wet like a girl’), feminine Art (so dare I say canon Art🙂‍↕️) or at least he likes lip gloss lol, Art and Patrick are college roommates – attraction heavily implied between all three of them but only Art and reader are in a relationship, this was supposed to just be a drabble lol there’s no plot just porn, also i’m kinda intimidated by the challengers fandom lol idk but anyway here's my first challengers fic sddslkh <3

word count: 3.4k | gorgeous divider by @dollywons

When you first start dating Art, you always apologise for wearing lipgloss when you’re kissing him. You always wipe it off his lips after a kiss, pulling your sleeves over your hands to get it off his mouth. You’ve heard that guys don’t like it, but you like wearing lipgloss and Art has never complained. 

When you get more comfortable around him, you don’t always wipe the gloss off his lips, letting him do it himself. But he only does it because he feels like it’s what he’s supposed to do. Guys aren’t supposed to like the feeling of lip gloss. He’s probably supposed to tell you it’s annoying and ask you to stop wearing lip gloss, at least when you’re with him. 

But he doesn’t want to control you, and he doesn’t want you to stop wearing lip gloss. He just wants you to stop apologising for it.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he tells you every time with a smile, but you still do it. 

“I know it’s sticky. I won’t put any more on tonight, don’t worry.” Art stops himself from pouting at your words. 

And yes, Art once applied the lip gloss that you left on his nightstand. He was missing you and the lip gloss was the closest thing to you that he had. He ran into the bathroom when Patrick came home, wiping it off furiously before his best friend could see. 

He likes keeping a shirt of yours at his place so that he can smell you even when you’re not there, but what he likes even more is to apply your lip gloss. It’s just a thin layer, but it makes him feel like he’s been freshly kissed by you. There’s nothing wrong with that, and there’s definitely no reason he does it other than to feel closer to you. 

-

You’re getting ready for the birthday of a friend one night. You’ll be going to a bar for a bit, nothing big. But you’re doing your make-up on Art’s bed with him sitting behind you, hands on your hips. 

“You look so pretty.” 

He says those words for every step of your routine. He wants you to know how beautiful you are no matter how much or how little make-up you’re wearing, even if it’s cheesy. Art grins when you show him the finished look, and his eyes stay stuck on your glossy lips, tinted a dark pink, almost red colour. 

He knows you can’t resist it when he looks at you like that, he never can when it’s the other way around either, so you press a kiss to his lips. Art knows that you’ll be wiping the sticky gloss off as soon as the kiss is over, so he deepens it to keep the feeling of lip gloss on him, even though Patrick is sitting in the bed right next to you. 

Knowing him, he’s probably staring and enjoying it; Art wouldn’t be surprised if he heard the sound of Patrick’s phone camera going off. 

You smile against Art as you part your lips for him, trying but not quite managing to bring yourself to stop kissing him yet. You have to physically take Art’s chin between your fingers and push his face away from you to stop. And yet, you give in again immediately, peppering his face in kisses before you pull away for good. 

You give Patrick an apologetic smile, even though you both know he doesn’t mind you and Art making out next to him. By the time you look back at Art, he’s already wiping at the lip gloss stains all over his face. Your cheeks heat up when you realise how many marks you’ve made on him. You forgot you put on a darker and more pigmented lip gloss than normal. 

“Wait,” you giggle, pulling away Art’s hand that’s already trying to wipe the sticky gloss away, “I’ll bring you a wipe.” 

“Doesn’t he look pretty like that?” Patrick comments before you have a chance to get up. Art throws a pillow at him. 

You look between them, at Art’s face littered with shiny, sticky stains. His lips are especially dark and shiny, as if you just put some lip gloss right on there, albeit a bit messily. 

“Of course he’s pretty like this,” you say, not looking away from Art.

 “Then just leave him like that, he likes it.”

“I don’t,” Art defends much too fast, and Patrick laughs. Art reaches for his pillow to throw at Patrick but remembers he already did. He’s about to stand up to go to the bathroom and get a stupid wipe himself, but you grip his t-shirt and he sits back down. 

“It’s okay if you like it, baby. It’s hot that you do,” you try to whisper the last part, and pull him in by his t-shirt to kiss him again, “Let me clean you up, and I’ll put some lip gloss on you properly.” 

“Only cause you think it’s hot,” Art calls after you weakly. 

Patrick laughs again. 

“Shut up.”

Art shyly tries to catch a glimpse of his face in the mirror. 

You sit back down in front of him, gently cleaning his face. You hold out the lip gloss afterwards, placing a hand on his face to apply it, the wet pop sounding when you undo the lid. 

“Wait,” Art leans back abruptly, as if you’re about to hurt him, “I want it from your lips.” 

You huff, smiling at him. You apply some more lipgloss to your own lips, taking your boyfriend’s face to give him a kiss to his pursed lips. You apply more and kiss him again. You both smile at the oddly innocent kiss – pursed lips against pursed lips. 

You wipe away the excess over Art’s cupid’s bow, grinning at his shiny, sticky lips. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” you tell your boyfriend, and he blushes. 

“Show me,” Patrick says, leaning forward to see Art from the front. Art turns his head away from his best friend, red up to the tips of his ears now. 

“Show him, baby,” you coax, reaching out for his chin to turn his head. You know Patrick likes to make jokes, but not when his best friend is like this – eyes like those of a puppy, genuinely embarrassed. 

It doesn’t have to mean anything, but Art has made it such a big deal in his head that he can’t like having your lipgloss on his lips that Patrick knows he needs encouragement right now. Patrick moves to sit at the edge of the bed to look at Art better. “Look at you, Artie, all pretty. Looks almost as good as on your girlfriend.” 

You roll your eyes – you should’ve known he can’t be fully serious. 

“You have to leave now, you’re already late,” Art reminds you, and you let him press another kiss to your lips. You’ll have to clean up the mess he’s made on your mouth on the way, but you don’t mind. You watch him enjoy the feeling of the sticky gloss on his lips a few more seconds before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You and Patrick share a look, rolling your eyes, and you blow a kiss to Art before you close the door.

 - 

You come back home early, before midnight. The birthday girl left to go see her boyfriend halfway through her own birthday party, so you’re back at Art and Patrick’s dorm. You’d be annoyed at your friend if you didn’t have your own boyfriend to go visit.

Patrick is already lightly snoring when Art opens the door for you – he’s in nothing but boxers – and you know what that means.  

Patrick has given you two permission to do whatever you want while he’s asleep, as long as you’re quiet. You’ve always wondered if it’s a tactic to secretly listen in on you and Art having sex, knowing that you would’ve otherwise never done it with him in the room. 

Art has a small light on next to his bed, and you join him on his mattress. A few leftover glitter particles sparkle on his lips, and you pull his face closer to yours. 

“Suits you so well, Artie. So pretty.” You swipe your finger over his bottom lip. He kisses it, stopping himself from smiling. He’s already looking at your lips, and you mentally pat yourself on the back for remembering to reapply your gloss just before you got here. 

You kiss him then, and Art licks into your mouth as if he’s been starved and waiting to eat you up since you left. You adjust your position to sit on top of him, and your knee grazes his lap. He’s already fully hard.

“Sorry.. couldn’ help myself. Pat fell asleep and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you grin, holding his jaw, “You want me to make it better? Want me to go down on you?”

Art nods distractedly, mumbling out, “please, baby. Need you”. Your thumb brushes the gloss on his lip, and Art opens his mouth. You pull your hand away before he can wrap his lips around your thumb, and you kiss him as a whine escapes his mouth, muffling his voice.

You press your lips against his until they’re coated in your shiny gloss, and then you slide a finger into his mouth. He sucks on it – pink, sparkly lips around your finger.

“You look so pretty. Should wear my lipgloss more often,” you tell him, and he turns his head away in fake-annoyance, your finger slipping out. You feel his hard cock against your leg again as he moves, and you pull at his chin to open his mouth.

Art moans as you messily push three of your fingers into his mouth to get them wet against his tongue. You pull them out and slide them down into the waistband of his boxers, and down the length of his cock.

You put your hand over his mouth before he has a chance to moan, and you nod towards Patrick. He’s asleep, his back to you, but it’s not going to take long for Art to wake him if he keeps being this loud.

You get up, and Art pulls his legs to the side of the bed as you sit down between them. He’s straining against his boxers, a tall tent pulling the fabric taut. You release Art’s cock, and it slaps against his abs. He’s glistening down his length from where you spread his spit on him, a small puddle of precum already at the tip. 

You giggle quietly, “So wet, baby. You’re wet like a girl.”

“Shut up,” he whispers back weakly, biting his lip to stop a smile from spreading over his face.

You kiss the wet tip, licking the precum, and begin to leave lip gloss stains all down his length.

“Feels so good, baby. You’re so good at this,” Art says not nearly quietly enough.

“Shh, baby. Don’t wanna wake Patrick up.”

Your boyfriend nods, but you don’t think he’s listening.

You take his dick into your mouth properly now, wet heat enveloping him as you take him deeper, and you look up to see how he bites his lip and lets nothing but a breath slip past his lips as he watches you.

“Good boy,” you whisper to him. He intertwines his fingers with yours by the side of his hip, and you look up to smile at him. You ignore how, when you look past Art for a split second, you can see Patrick clearly jerking his cock under the blanket, the movement of his arm making it obvious. 

You shake your head slightly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at Art’s best friend, and you take your boyfriend deeper down your throat as your spit drips to his balls. Art looks down at you with such restraint on his face, it almost looks like he’s about to cry.

He manages not to make a sound when you suck his dick more eagerly, your lip gloss smeared over his cock as you jerk off what you can’t take past your lips. The only sound in the room is the wetness of your mouth and your spit around your boyfriend’s cock.

Art lets out a shaky breath as his abs contract, his hand squeezing yours, and you softly nod up at him, taking his cock as deep as you can. He whimpers pathetically when he spills his load down your throat, and you swallow it all as he keeps cumming and cumming in your mouth.

When you pull away, out of breath and with your lips wet, you take in the picture you created. Art’s cock is full of your lip gloss, his face shiny with a thin layer of sweat, his cheeks as red as the gloss you left on his lips earlier. You’re about to stand up and get a wipe to clean Art up, but he pulls his boxers back on.

He likes the glossy stains on his cock even more than the ones you leave on his lips. 

He pulls you up on the bed, lying you on your back. “Please can I go down on you?” he whispers, mouthing at your neck and down your chest, pulling your top down as much as the tight fabric allows, whining when he doesn’t get all the way down to your nipples.

As much as you want Art to eat your pussy, you won’t let him. He always gets messy and loud, moaning almost uncontrollably as he makes out with your wet pussy, and there is no way Patrick could pretend to sleep through that. 

If you thought Art was going to cry earlier from how good he felt, he reaches a new level of teariness now when you tell him no, eyes almost glassy.

“Tomorrow, okay? You can still use your fingers now.” Art looks at least somewhat assuaged at your offer, and lies down on his side next to you, unknowingly shielding you from Patrick. You don’t know if he came along with Art, or if he’s still jerking off, and that makes it even more exciting. 

You know Art would never cheat on you, but if you gave him permission to, and if he admitted his attraction, you’re sure he’d jump at the first opportunity to invite Patrick into bed with you two. You know Patrick feels the same. You like the thought of him listening in, making himself cum to the sound of his best friend and his girlfriend having sex.

“Here,” Art urges, holding a hand to your mouth, even though he knows you’ll be more than wet enough from giving him head. You spit into his open palm, and Art spits in too, the way he always does, liking the feeling of your combined warm wetness against his skin. 

Art reaches down your body and into your underwear, adding to the wetness. He rubs your clit in messy circles, kissing you even messier. You spread your legs for him more, but Art lets out a frustrated huff.

“Can I… want you naked,” he mumbles against your skin. Art watches with puppy eyes as you get up, taking off your tight top and grabbing your favourite oversized shirt of his instead, sliding off your trousers and panties only once you’ve put the shirt on.

“This is all you get.”

Art looks happy enough as you get back into bed with him, sliding a hand up your shirt now that he can comfortably get under the hem, and cups one of your tits.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” Art says against your lips, hand moving back between your legs to play with your pussy, “So pretty.”

He circles your clit for a few moments before he pushes a finger inside while making out with you, remnants of his own cum still in your mouth, spit and gloss between you two as he continues to rub your clit.

“You’re the prettiest woman in the world,” he says, voice almost strained, and you realise he’s hard again, humping the mattress as well as he can while lying on his side, “Wish I was inside your pussy right now.”

You have to resist giving in to him – he’ll be insatiable the rest of the night if you let him fuck you even just for a few seconds – but you reach down to pull his cock free from his boxers, wrapping your hand around him.

“Can you focus if I’m doing this?” you ask pointedly, and Art nods eagerly.

“I’ll be good, I’ll be a good boy. I’ll make you cum,” he promises, slurring his words as your thumb swipes over the tip. But he’s not lying, he’s still fucking your pussy with his fingers. You’ve trained him well, so he knows what to do.

You can’t deny that you’re both getting loud now, if it’s not the moans you don’t quite manage to swallow down, then it’s the sound of your wet pussy and your slicked hand around Art’s cock.

You cum almost at the same time, Art rubbing your clit at just the right, albeit messy, intensity, and your thighs squeeze around his forearm when the orgasm flows through you, your own hand not stopping around Art’s cock. He’s breathing hard, reaching for the tissues on his headboard, but the tissue box topples over and falls against his shoulder and to the floor as he tries and fails to rip out a tissue.

“Here, I got you, baby,” you angle his cock to his abs, so that he won’t be spilling all over his own sheets, and you only have to jerk Art’s dick for a few more seconds before he’s shooting ropes of cum over his own skin. His abs glisten as his breath stutters, and he has to wrap his hand around yours to stop when he gets too sensitive.

“I love you so much,” Art huffs with a smile, and you kiss him briefly.

“I love you too.” You gather his cum off his abs, wiping it over your palm and holding it over his mouth. It drips and falls between Art’s parted lips. Art hums when you slip your fingers into his mouth, and he sucks the last drops of his load off them.

“Such a good boy,” you rub your thumb over his cheek, gazing at him in awe.

“I love you so much,” he tells you again, a soft smile on his face.

When you’re done and you look over, Patrick is back to quietly snoring, a freshly crumpled tissue by the side of his bed. You kiss Art before you can begin to smirk, and you briefly consider telling him. You decide it’s a conversation for another day. Art would definitely get hard again if he knew that Patrick was jerking off to you two doing it, and he’s already squeezed out two orgasms just now. You don’t need him that overstimulated tonight.

You remove your makeup and get one of the fresh pairs of panties Art bought for you to keep at his place. You walk back into the bedroom and find Art on his back, smiling at you all fucked out. 

You lie down with him, letting him cup one of your tits for comfort so that he can sleep better. You kiss his cheek and see that his lips are still shiny with glittery gloss. You decide not to offer to clean him up, now that you know he likes it like that. 

P.S. Thank you for reading <3 Reblog and comment for Art to come and kiss the gloss off your lips 🤭

untouched - max verstappen x reader

pairing : max verstappen x fem!reader warnings : smut, oral (female receiving), dry humping word count : 1k summary : while max is giving you head, his mind is clouded with one thought : will he last long enough or come untouched ? a/n : hi !! this is my first time writing in a veryyy long time, also english isn't my first langage so excuse me if you see any mistake!! but i hope you'll enjoy it !! xoxo bunny

your hands were pulling on his hair, moans and whines were the only things that could be heard in the room.

max had been between your thighs for a while now, lapping and torturing your clit, he seemed more eager than ever before, acting like a starved man.

he had you seeing stars and you could feel the usual knot forming in your stomach, a feeling that max never struggled to make you feel and he indulged himself in this. it would be a lie to say that max didn’t take pride in how good he was able to make you feel with his tongue, mouth and fingers. he knew your body like the back of his hand.

but today, you weren’t the only one feeling the heat rising in your lower body and knowing yourself coming close to a climax.

it wasn’t the first time that max felt himself getting close without being touched, but it was the first time it happened while going down on you.

his hips involuntarily bucked up, his clothed crotch brushing against the mattress and giving him the slightest of friction. of course it wasn’t enough and of course he wanted more, but his whole focus was on you, your pleasure was his priority even if it meant ignoring his own.

your moans were getting louder and louder and his cock was harder than ever in his tight pants but max was determined to make you come before anything else, even tho his mind was clouded with the want of taking off his pants. he needed to release the pressure his clothes had on him.

"oh god max i’m… oh fuck i’m close!"

your words were a melody to his ears mixed with your delicious moans and if he could he would bottle them up to listen to them on repeat. he was sure that he’d never get tired of them, he’d never get tired of you.

and it all suddenly came to him, his eyes widening at the realisation that he was way closer than he thought. he felt his cock twitching in his boxer when he decided to give up. "fuck it" he thought as he positionned himself and begin to slowly roll his hips against the mattress, finally getting the relief he needed so much.

it didn’t take long for him to reach his orgasm which made him back up from your body for a quick second, to catch his breath. he then went right back at it, his hands holding your thighs as close to his head as possible, his fingers were sure to leave marks on your skin in the morning and he loved that.

"don’t stop, i’m coming… please max"

his right hand left your thigh and quickly found your clit, his thumb started massaging the bundle of nerves, making your back arche. then you finally you came, all of the pleasure and the tension washing over your body like a wave.

your thighs were squeezing his head, something he was used to and would never complain about. he made sure his mouth left a trail of kisses along the inside of your thighs before getting up and he stood there for a few seconds, to admire your body, your -still- slightly shaking thighs, your messed up hair and your knuckles who were still white from holding and pulling so much at his hair. you were his most prized trophy, the one that he would never let go of, the one worth everything, every sacrifice.

"fuck… want me to return the favor love ?"

and that is when the man, the second time world champion suddenly felt embarrassed for the first time, in a very long time. max had managed to forget how he painted his briefs white with his cum, how minutes ago he came untouched, just driven by your pretty sounds.

"i uh.. no don’t you worry sweetheart"

you were surprised and kind of taken aback, not used to your long term boyfriend rejecting such an offer. one thing that max never said no to -usually- was head from you and you knew that he loved it. he loved seeing you on your knees in front of him, doing your very best to please him and his refusal kind of worried you.

"oh, is everything okay ?"

he knew he couldn’t hide it no more, especially not to you when you were the one that made him come undone in his tight pants. without touching him you were still the one that got him to climax and that alone showed just how much of an effect you had on him.

"i don’t really know how to say this but i.. yeah i already came"

your eyes widened and a smile formed on your face.

"don’t laugh i’m not joking y/n!"

you couldn’t help but laugh, hiding your smile with your hand. even tho he might not think about it this way, you found that incredibly flattering. making your boyfriend come without even undressing him made something inside of you switch, it gave you a full boost of confidence and you were not about to let that opportunity go.

"ooohh you poor thing, i didn’t even get to touch you yet!"

"sorry baby, i couldn’t control myself, you sounded like an angel.."

fuck, max verstappen knew his way with words. but he wasn’t the only one able to play this type of games.

"if only you knew how angelic you sound, maybe you would let me deal with you tonight.."

as you said that, you got into your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants. max didn’t move, his cock already getting harder at your sight. your eyes looked up at him before pulling his pants down. and here you saw the wet patch on his underwear and licked your lips, the thought of max coming on himself making you squeeze your thighs together.

"y/n please"

"please what?"

you were quick to answer him while slowly pulling his underwear down, finally freeing his cock from his boxer and taking ahold of it. max threw his head back and his hand went to your hair, lightly grasping it.

"please touch me"

"as you wish my love"

max knew he was in for a long night when your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and god knows how much he was excited about it.

hi!! It’s jenson anon again but something just struck. DBF!kimi???? Hello, like he always acts cold most of the time but when you guys get your time alone as he is told to baby sit you when your parents are on a business trip, all hell breaks lose and your opinion on him completely changes, he’s a new person, literally!!! Like that man has hold himself back for long enough and he’s done.

-jenson anon ❤️

okay this is so !! -- combined it with a similar ask:  kimi with a younger reader who's got the biggest crush on him!!🥹😩 and he secretly has a soft spot for her too❤️

hope that's okay! - reader is over 18!

your dad was good friends with kimi, he comes over for dinner when he’s in town, he brings you a gift now and then or usually just slips you some cash when he’s leaving.

you've always just known him as kimi, it wasn't until you were much older than you knew what he did for a career, but even then, he was still kimi, dad's friend.

one thing was a constant though: he’s not a man of many words.

your parents were on vacation and your aunt was supposed to stay with you since you weren't going and you guys sorta lived in the middle of no where.

kimi was in town and your parents asked him to stay with you so you won't be here all alone.

after they left, the two of you were sitting in the living room. he asked if you wanted dinner and you say okay.

kimi tell you to pick a place and you do, leaning over to show him the menu for the takeout place on your phone. kimi was looking at your phone but his eyes move to look at your tits, you were wearing a tank top and he was but a man.

you look at him, following his eyes and you giggle. "what?"

kimi looks at you, confused. "what?"

you shake your head, handing him the phone. "order whatever you want, i'm not picky."

after dinner, you two ended up watching a movie on the couch. kimi moves closer to you, his arm around you and you lean into him, not saying anything.

a sex scene comes on and you've got the humour of a teenage boy, giggling when you look at him.

"what?" he looks at you and you shook your head.

you shake your head, but kimi wasn't having it. the man grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "what is it?"

you say nothing, instead you kiss him. kimi was taken aback for a moment but kisses you back, helping you onto his lap. you're grinding down on him, his hands on your hips trying to pull you closer.

kimi flips the two of you over, your legs wrapped around his hips when he pushes your shorts to the side, his fingers rubbing against you.

you can't help but arch your back, pushing your hips closer to him. "desperate," he mumbles, and you smile. "only for you."

heyyy i’m not saying we want but WE NEED a sequel to dad’s best friend!mark webber i have not been the same since, maybe them secretly continuing to hook up or maybe he’s picking her up from a party again aaahh i really do need it

ly ✌🏻

hi babe! it's not often that I get a request for mark so obviously I had to write this one <33 -- kinktober: dad's best friend + mark webber -- tw: age gap (reader is over 20!)

The sound of his phone blaring woke him up, his arm stretched out to find the phone without opening his eyes. "Yeah, hello?" He says when he finally finds it.

"Oh thank god you picked up." The person on the other side says and suddenly he's a little more awake. "Y/n? Is everything okay?" He asks, pulling the phone from his face to check what time it was; 4:15 in the morning.

"Yeah no, I'm at this party and I need a ride. Everyone else is drunk and I didn't drive, my friend did but I can't find her and I don't wanna take an uber cause it's late."

Mark was already out of bed, searching for his shirt in the darkness when he hit speaker on the phone. "Yeah I'm coming, send me your location and I'll be there soon."

--

You were sitting on the curb of what looked like a shitty frat house when Mark pulled up. He winds down the window and honks, you look up and get up when you see him.

It was pretty chilly outside and he tossed you a sweater when you get in the car. You drape it over your legs when you get in the car, "I'm taking you to my place, figured you don't want your parents finding you coming in, especially since you smell like a brewery."

"Yeah, thanks." You tell him, picking at the chipped nail polish on your finger.

The drive back was quiet, the windows were cracked a bit and the fresh air was sobering you up the rest of the way.

"I'll leave some clean clothes for you in the guest room," he says and he can't help but notice how you smile drops at the mention of the guest room.

"You're welcome to stay with me, if you want."

"Can I?" You ask and he hums, gesturing for you to walk towards his room. You sit on the edge of the bed as he digs out a shirt for you to wear. He hands it over to you and you get up, turning around and it doesn't need to be said, he knows; Mark reaches for the zipper on your dress and pulls it down.

His eyes fixed on you as the black dress falls to the ground and leaves you in your underwear. "I like those," he says, making his way back to bed.

You had already pulled the shirt on when you got on the bed. "Yeah, cute aren't they?" You chuckle, crawling up the bed to sit on his lap.

Mark's hand rests on your hip, rubbing it softly. "You're not tired, darling?" He glances at his phone on the nightstand, "it's nearly 5."

"Not really," your finger dragging down his now bare chest. "I've been thinking about you." You whisper to him and his brows furrow, "is that so ? When do you think about me?"

"Like when I'm touching myself," you mumble and Mark flips you two over, you're flat on your back looking up at him.

His hand wanders down between the two of you and your back arches, a little whimper slips past your lips when you feel his fingers push into you. "Can you do it like that?" He asks you quietly, watching as your face twists with pleasure.

"Mhm, only you can." You tell him, one of your hands wrapping around his wrist as he curls his fingers. You spread your legs a little more, squeezing his wrist.

"Mark, please," you breathe, eyes meeting his. "Please what darling ?"

Between the way he was looking at you and the way his fingers were moving, you were barely able to get the words out. "Fuck me," you mumble and he smiles.

"That's my girl."

i dont remember exactly what i said but oscar + road head, hes so nonchalant but sly at the same time hed be stroking her cheek while down her throat and shed be pouting because he doesnt seem the slightest bit flustered

WOFDODOFK I HATE THAT I DIDN'T SEE IT ALDNDKDKC WHAT HAS tmblr AGAINST M... how many more asks did tumblr eat i can't 😭😭😭 dont expect anything from me... smut skills are rusty 🫣

⚠️ ⚠️

i think he'd maintain a straight face... or try to. his knuckles are white from gripping the wheel, and he's trying his hardest to contain the groans from escaping.

he'd lay one hand on the back of your head, coaxing you softly, muttering praises for how well you're taking him, voice even and not at all bothered. you're at odds with his composure, feeling second to— well, your safety; he was still manning the wheel and making sure your were on the right side of the road, and away from speeding vehicles.

you huff, pulling away to level him with an aggrieved gaze. he just coos, when he notices; "you look pretty this way baby," he smothers the glistening precum and spit on your lips, muttering under his breath, "such a pretty girl." he grazes his fingers on your reddened cheek.

you hated his patronising lilt, lower lip jutted out from his gentle ministrations. for once, you'd want to see him lose his neverending self control.

you flattened your tongue against his weeping tip, wrapping your lips around his member and breathing through your nose as you slowly, inch by agonizing inch took him in your mouth.... you were gonna make him cry.

oscar hit the breaks hastily.

Holding hands - KR7

[ 645 words ]

[ master list ]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ Warnings; smut, slight size kink, hand kink, choking, fingering, praise kink, and poorly google translated Finnish (lol)

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ Pairing; soft domKimi x innocent subreader (female)

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ Summary; Kimi had noticed the reader sneaking glances of his hands while bored, so he decides to surprise her.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ Authors note; first post, also first time writing smut so I’m sorry if it sucks 😭.

You bounce you’re leg, letting out a sigh. Your bored, you’ve been since about an hour ago. You and Kimi were watching some show he had picked out in the living room, which you had no interest in. Glancing at Kimi, your gaze immediately falling to his hands.

They were already so attractive, so big and vainy. You loved how big he was compared to your short frame, especially his hands, he could throw you around if he wanted, which truthfully you wish for nothing more in that moment. You snap back to reality when you realize he had just caught you staring, you turn your face away quickly, a heavy blush covering your cheeks. You can hear him let out a soft laugh.

“Rakkuas, what is bothering you” love he ask’s in a low voice. Resting his hand on your thigh gently, waiting for your response. You let out a small sigh as he placed his hand on your thigh.

“Nothing” gently squeezing your thighs together, trying to play it off. Keeping your gaze locked on the tv straight ahead. He leans closer to your ear, you feel his soft breath against your neck.

“Vauva don’t lie, I can see you squeezing your thighs together” baby he softly yet slowly drags his hand up your thigh. You watch his hand trail higher, towards the heat between your legs. You suck in a quiet breath. He smirks playfully, kissing from your jaw down your neck softly. His hand finally reaching your core, he rubs gentle, slow circles on your clothed clit.

“Kimi” you mumble closing your eyes quickly, wrapping your hand around his wrist.

“Want me to stop” he whispers against your neck, applying more pressure, rubbing your clit a bit harsher. You nod your head no vigorously, eyes shut tightly in pleasure, moans spilling from your lips.

“Words, Vauva” baby he mumbles into your neck, he picks up his pace as he waits for your response. His free hand sliding down to your hip, gently moving you to sit in his lap.

“Don’t stop” your head falls back in pleasure. Gripping his bicep tightly, bucking your hips into his hand. He pushes your underwear to the side, slowly slipping a finger into your cunt. You let out a loud moan, as he works your clit with his thumb. He pumps his finger in and out at a slow pace, curving his fingers to hit your sweet spot.

“teet niin hyvää minulle” your doing so good for me he slowly slips in a second finger. Picking up his pace, pumping his fingers faster. Still working your clit harshly with his thumb.

“Kimi I-I’m gonna-“ he speeds his fingers up. Moving his hand to your throat, squeezing it gently so you can still breathe. At this point your so close you can’t even put together a coherent sentence. The only thing slipping past your lips was moans and his name.

“Go ahead cum, cum all over my fingers Rakkuas” love he pulls you closer by the throat, kissing you passionately. It was sloppy but that and his words sent you right over the edge. You let out a loud porngraphic moan, your orgasm washes over you hard. You fall onto his chest as your body shakes.

“Still bored” he chuckles while looking down at you. He slowly slips his fingers out of your cunt, you let out soft moan. He moves his fingers up to your lips.

“imeä” suck he mumbles softly, you take his fingers in your mouth and suck gently. You moan at the taste of yourself on his fingers. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a small pop.

“Tired” Kimi asks quietly, wrapping his arms around you. You nod your head gently against his chest.

“Round two after my nap” you mumble into his chest. He looks down at you grinning.

“Sounds Perfect”