It Is A Glorious Sunrise - F.alonso

I wanna date the cool House.

The House that's funny and sarcastic. Never fails to bring a smile to your face with a cheesy pick up line or a terrible joke.

The House that wears rock band shirts and checks you out when you steal one but has to physically pry it off you to have it back.

The House that's silly and plays on his imaginary guitar (cane) while jamming to a random song to make you laugh.

The House that picks you up from places in affectionally humiliating ways. Stopping his motorcycle right in front of you and saying a made up thing in an unnecessarily loud voice so everyone can hear, leaving you desperately trying to explain to people that, no, you don't have an abnormally hairy right big toe, nor have you created an account on a dating site to search for a sugar daddy.

The House that takes you on late night rides on his motorcycle when you're in a bad mood and buys you a pizza while he's at it.

The House that actually buys you (or already has two) the same band shirt he has so you're matching.

The House that sits with you in an empty bathtub, just eating, laughing, and talking. Spending time with you.

The House that, despite the pain in his leg, tries dancing with you to a song playing so loud he gets a noise complaint just because he wants to see you happy.

The House that happily and proudly wears the matching bracelet you made, shoving it in everyone's faces.

Ooh looking through the men who don’t get enough requests !!! Maybe 31: “the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.” With seb Vettel? Any version of seb does it for me but I won’t lie rbr seb !!! gets a girl goin!!

I know you wanted rbr seb but aston seb my beloved <3 // prompt: “the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

He's back on podium and you couldn't be more proud of him. It reminds of you when he was at RedBull and fighting for wins, for championships.

Seb was in his driver's room, Britta was on her way out as you were on your way in. "He's got press in 30 minutes," she reminds you, knowing how the two of you are.

You wave her off, promising to make sure he'd show up on time. You shut the door, finding your husband on the couch in his driver's room.

Seb smiles, patting his leg for you to come over and have a seat. you walk over, sitting. "I'm so proud of you," you tell him, holding his jaw.

"Thank you baby," he smiles. You were loving on him, kissing along his face, down his jaw to his neck. Seb's not stupid, he knows where this was going; the same thing he got scolded for over and over again at red bull.

"I have media," he reminds you. "I know." you tell him, kissing on his jaw.

Seb shifts you on his lap, "well since you know, the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

"You say that as if that's an issue for me," you giggled, the man kissing you as you shift to his thigh. Straddling his thigh, your dress bunched over your hips. Seb's hands rest on your ass, squeezing it before giving it a smack.

You start rocking yourself on his thigh. Back and forth very slowly. Your nails scratch down his chest, faint red marks being left behind.

Seb groans, his head tossed back and he lifts his leg slightly. The sudden change caused you to slide forward, clit rubbing against the fabric of his race suit under you.

The sound that left your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

kissing him from forehead to waist on a lazy day spent in bed just so that he gets all warm and flustered and hard as a rock before i pull down his underwear and ride him until he’s moaning broken i love you’s into my mouth

Its half past 4 am and i need to go to bed too but I’ll squeeze out a final brainrot for us to sleep to

A driver on the way to winning wdc, a ROOKIE no less and after actually winning you get absolutely HATE fucked by max. Thats all i really want in life. Imagine the sexual tension all throughout the season mixed with immense hatred and hes just kidnapping you back to the hotel and letting out all the anger and frustration towards you that build up over the year until you’re completely fucked out and unable to walk for the week. Im talking CRYING from overstimulation here.

That championship may not be his but that pussy sure is now.

🫀

oh my goood. i want her to he a redbull driver bc imagine the drama of them getting a fourth driver’s title in a row like seb did but it’s a rookie instead of max?? the drama. sorry i rambled for like an hr. oopsies i meant to be quick.

can so imagine she’s not expecting to win any races on her debut season but wins on debut and everyone is shocked when she overtakes max and the team allows it, knows they’ll still get the one two finish plus they’ll get the amazing publicity of another first time redbull driver winning on debut, making history as the first female driver winning on debut.

max is furious about it. they're not given team orders which makes it so much worse, she genuinely overtakes him and they warned him she'd be making a move on him but he didn't expect her to successfully pass him or to maintain the lead and fend him off for the rest of the race. he’s not a baby who would demand team orders in his favor, especially when he knows they wouldn’t listen because they want her to win. he’s angry they want her to win. he’s angry he wants her to win and make history like he did. he hates that he was so enthusiastic about having a rookie as a teammate, thinking he’d get to show someone the ropes and all that. but she’s beating him on debut?

it gets better with the next race because he wins and she comes in third, and he feels like everything is falling into place again. until the next race when she gets pole and wins from it, leading every lap with him stuck in third behind charles, a switch-up on the previous weeks podium lineup. it continues like that with them nearly taking each other out a few times fighting for the lead, but somehow they don’t crash out throughout the season.

i can so see them taunting each other behind closed doors, where media won't catch it. also them getting drunk and flirty and pretending it didn't happen the next day. and i can see her being happy no matter what because she's doing so well on her debut season but max is only happy and nice when he wins a race and is leading the championship, so on the nights he wins, they somehow end up together in the back of the vip area of some club, both internally debating if fucking your teammates a good idea.

she wins by a handful of points, only three, and when she’s on the first place podium she shoves that number in his face as she sprays her champagne down on him. he wants to bend her over the podium and make her swallow down his cock instead of the champagne she gulps down. he pushes the thought from his mind when she’s wiping it from her jaw as it drips down her neck and soaks her suit more than charles’s spray already had.

he doesn’t even plan on acting on his pent up fantasies until he bumps into her and charles on his way out and she has the audacity to congratulate him on second in the championship, as if he wasn’t less than half a second away from behind first. as if she wasn’t first. he’s grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from charles, ignoring her questions of where they’re going. she only asks twice before she falls into step next to him, her footsteps faster than his to keep up with his longer stride. she’s got her trophy, the first place race trophy in her hands and he wants to smash it thinking about how he’s going to have to give her his driver’s championship trophy. how they’re going to engrave her name and break the streak of max verstappen signatures crawling up the trophy.

she realizes what’s happening when they get in the car and he puts his hand on her knee once they’re driving then asks if it’s okay and she’s like, “are you asking if it’s okay to touch me or to kidnap me?” and he insists he’s not kidnapping her and she recounts how he grabbed her, led her to his car, opened the passenger door and pushed her inside. he blushes and apologizes, his hand still on her knee and she tells him it’s okay. they get to the hotel and she follows him to his room and neither of them speak until they’re inside and he’d tell her to say red if he needs to stop, and she asks why he would need to stop and he’s like, “well i don’t plan on stopping until you tell me to. so say red when you need me to stop.”

once she agrees he’s kissing her like she’s never been kissed and pushing her against the wall, his hand squeezing her throat and his knee pushing between her thighs. he holds her there until she’s turning away from the kiss for air, and then he steps back and tells her to strip and get on the bed. she’d stare at him for a moment and he grabs her and pushes her towards the bed and snaps at her to get on it. she strips to her underwear and starts getting on the bed and he’d tell her he didn’t say to leave them on and she turns back to him, fully dressed, and tells him to undress too. he tells her he doesn’t need to yet, and she doesn’t get why until she’s almost screaming from her third orgasm back to back. two from his fingers and one from his mouth, and he's still going. hands curled around her thighs to hold her in place.

she's crying and begging him to fuck her, and he's moaning into her pussy that she tastes so good he doesn't want to stop tasting her yet. she loses count on how many orgasm she's had before he's done eating her out, she can't tap out before they've even fucked, but she's so sensitive his tongue lapping on her clit hurts.

when he finally gives in and lines up with her entrance the stretch of his cock in her sensitive cunt nearly makes her black out. he barely lets her adjust before he's fucking her like he won tonight, telling her she looks so pretty when she cries and how good she feels around him. asking her who's making her feel this good and stopping until she begs him to keep going and answers his question. he'd tease her between kisses and hickeys he leaves on her now that she's too fucked out to object, hopes they won't be able to find makeup good enough to cover the bruises he leaves on her throat.

he keeps pulling back from kisses and spitting on his dick fucking in and out of her, saying things she can't understand in dutch, or maybe it's english and she's too fucked out to make sense of his rambling. he'd grasp her jaw when she opens it in a loud moan and hold it open before spitting in it. he'd taunt her with all the passive aggressive remarks she made during the season and when she just moans in response he’d make fun of her for being too fucked out to respond.

and then they don’t see each other over break except for work stuff and nothing happens, she gets her trophy and the exchange goes normally. and then she wins the first race of the season and she gets a repeat of the last race of the last season. after that no matter who finishes the end up in bed together, if she wins he’s angry and takes his frustration out on her, but if he wins they just go at it like rabbits and right for dominance, he’s more playful and less commanding. he’d let her suck his cock for an hour while he tells her how good she’s making him feel, telling her that this is what he deserves; a race win and a cock drunk whore on her knees choking on his cock.

This maybe the daddy issues talking but my god who gave these assholes the right to look this fine 😭😭

My favorite blonde twinks 😋🥸

Being Bobby's girlfriend and catching Jack’s attention…

a/n: this is set in their college years + before Jack meets Jackie!! This is very messy + this fic contains nsfw content so please proceed with caution. This doesn't contain anything nsfw happening between the brothers.

currently listening to: Music To Watch Boys To by LDR . ݁₊ ⊹ ! !

It all started when Bobby took you home to Hyannis Port during the summer to meet his family. You were absolutely nervous, your hands were sweating and your brows furrowed with anxiety at the thought of you saying something wrong and immediately becoming enemy #1 of the Kennedy family. However, your sweet, darling boyfriend was quick to shut down all the negative thoughts that were clouding your head with his reassuring words.

"oh, don't think like that, sweetheart. They'll love you just as much as I do. I know they will."

Thankfully, Bobby was right, just like he always was when it came to calming your nerves. His parents, particularly his mother, asked you all sorts of questions that spanned from historical events, political opinions, and what was it about Bobby that interested you so much. If his parents were quizzing you, you would've passed with flying colors. His siblings were much easier on you and simply turned to teasing Bobby about how smitten he was with you. His sisters didn't spare any compliments and his brothers shot him an approving look with a proud raise of their eyebrows.

However, one of his brothers was particularly proud of Bobby's taste in women.

"She's a nice girl, Bobby. Real nice. I always wondered what you were doin' bringing those other girls to the house but I can't say I'm mad a'cha for bringin her around. I would've brought her home, too." Jack whispered to his younger brother once the two of them were alone in the kitchen, putting away dirty dishes. Bobby sheepishly thanked his brother for his version of a sincere compliment.

Jack’s interest in you started off as something hidden, as something he'd only ever speak of in confidence when he was alone with Bobby. Robert didn't take offense to his brother's fascination with you, if anything he found it humorous at first. He never saw his brother as a threat to your relationship, he knew Jack would never dare to attempt to take you away from him. He knows his dear brother. He knows he'd have a different idea in mind.

As your relationship with Bobby progressed, you began to get used to receiving regular compliments from Jack. The compliments started off tame and could never be mistaken as being anything other than friendly praises. He'd compliment a dress that Bobby gifted you on a date night, dragging his eyes up and down your body before commenting, "you did good, Bobby. The color suits her." Then, the friendly compliments turned into even friendlier physical contact. Bobby would always have a strong hand on the small of your back or a muscular arm looped through yours in an effort to keep you close. Eventually, Jack would copy his brother's movements and swiftly move to place his hand dangerously low on the small of your back, bracketing you between him and Bobby.

One night, everything truly closed in on you.

Bobby lead you up to his bedroom after a enjoying a hearty dinner with his family, leaving everyone under the impression that the two of you were going to catch up on some sleep. However, as soon as that bedroom door shut, you found yourself grinding down onto Bobby's lap with an insatiable hunger. The ferocity in which your hips moved caused the delicious ache between your plush thighs to deepen, you hoped that if you bounced on his clothed lap just a little harder, you'd eventually be able to feel his bare cock against your flushed pussy. you didn't want to stop, you wanted to feel his bare skin on yours and revel within the mind numbing noises of skin on skin, you were already drooling at the mere thought of it ‘clap, clap, clap,’ but you swore you'd die if you pulled away from him for even a second.

Bobby wrapped his strong arms around you in an effort to swiftly pick you up and place you beneath him, however, the sudden click of the doorknob made him halt his movements. He could've sworn he locked the door behind him how could someone open the door-

Suddenly, he was met with a pair of striking blue eyes that belonged to his dear brother, Jack. Then, his entire frame came into view and you immediately fled from Bobby's grasp. Surely, his brother knew what the two of you were up to. Your hair was messy as a result of Bobby's hands gently pulling on it, your tits threatened to escape from the delicate fabric of your cotton sundress, and your eyes were blown with arousal. However, the words of disgust that you were waiting to leave Jack’s lips never came.

"C'mon, get back over there, sweetheart. Whaddya say, Bobby? You wouldn't want her to stop, would you? She was havin' so much fun."

You were already so close with the Kennedy family. You never thought there would be a chance you'd get any closer.

a/n: this is my first time writing explicit smut, so I hope it wasn’t too rusty. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

Taglist: @fortheloveofjos @bobbykennedyswife @summerrivera777777 @divinedelusional @bluelancergirl @h-l-vlovesvintage @romanticismboop @tomriddlethefinest @vixenihy @darcyspirits lemme know if you’d like to be added 🌷.

dedicated to: @unmarlou once again 💌🐻.

save a horse . . . // callum ilott

summary: indycar is in texas, and you know what that means. or, callum looks so delicious in that cowboy hat and his girlfriend- who grew up on a dude ranch and knows full well what the cowboy hat rule means- can't keep her hands off of him

author's note: shout out to @magnummagnussen for encouraging this dumpster fire. also, it ends kind of abruptly because i ran out of steam

it all started one thursday afternoon in the juncos hollinger motorhome

callum was on his way back from his media duties with two paper cups of tea in his hands

and when she sees him, her breath catches in her throat

because her normally babygirl looking boyfriend is taking her breath away in his juncos polo and his straw cowboy hat

and it brings an old texas saying back to the forefront of her memory and an old rule about cowboy hats

and it’s enough to get her to choke on her water

“you alright, babe?” callum asks, in his sweet innocent british voice before he kisses the top of her head

“yeah, yeah. I’m good. just peachy.”

and once they’re alone, standing on the patio and drinking their paper cups of tea (something that y/n’s texan parents would have gawked at)

she turns to him, her voice low as she says “you know what they say about horses and cowboys?”

“no?” callum shook his head, an innocent and lovable kind of stupid “should I?”

she bounces her eyes around the motorhome before hooking a finger and beckoning him closer

“save a horse, ride a cowboy, babe.”

she winks at him before grabbing the hat and placing it on her head

“and she who wears the cowboys hat must ride him later.” she whispers, voice husky in callums ear

and he could have sworn that he was half hard in his jeans already

“is that a promise?”

“more than. but, you have to go finish your media duties first, sweetheart.”

fast forward three hours and all the media things are done, and they're back in callum's drivers room

and they simply cannot keep their hands off each other

like at all

shes taking her lacy panties off, hooking them on the doorknob

his polo is gone, thrown across the room somewhere (he never did find it)

she's reaching to take off her cowboy boots, but he stops her

"keep them on, pretty girl."

"that's kinda kinky, ilott. is there something you aren't telling me?"

"just that you are so fucking hot right now."

fingers scrabbling for callum's belt, his hands pushing up her cute little denim skirt

peasant blouse pushed up so her tits are right in callum's face.

"oh, yes, baby!" she whines. "just like that callum, right there."

"doing so good for me, my pretty girl." he hums against her skin, kissing all over her chest as he thrusts his cock deeper into her

"god, i fucking love your cock." she pants, hands on his face as she kisses him, grinding down just enough to wrench a moan from callum's throat

because callum is fucking VOCAL as hell

"yeah, i know you love this cock, sweetheart. you were so needy for it today."

"what can i say- oh! the cowboy hat did things to me."

she moans loudly as she throws her head back, the hat falling to the floor as callum presses his hand to her mouth.

"ssh, baby. we don't want anybody to hear us, do we? those pretty sounds are for my ears only."

do you have that pic of mark and jenson clasping hands but seb’s hand is just… in the middle??? bc i’ve been wracking tumblr trying to find it but i can’t!!!

Anon, I am so honored that you came and asked me 🙏 So I instinctively thought of Singapore 2011 because I remembered Seb standing btwn them, and I really hope this is what you're looking for BECAUSE I'VE NEVER SEEN THIS PIC BEFORE OHMYGODDDDD

I'm staring at this.....the size difference..........I appreciate you asking me this bcs I never even realized that this happened when I was watching this post-race

pls reblog for sample size!

Hi! Firstly, I wanted to say that I adore your imagines! Secondly , I was hoping you’d agree to write an imagine based on s3 e7. Specifically the end of it when he’s sitting on his couch rubbing his fingers the baby touched. Maybe that makes him realize he wants a baby of his own with you? Thanks in advance!!!🩵

what i want ✩ gregory house

🫀- synopsis. Greg knows what he wants, but he needs to know that you want the same thing.

🫀 - warnings. I got a little carried away… SLIGHT impregnation kink. OOC House but i dont care. i hope you enjoyed this, anon!! 🤍

Greg’s mind had been bizarrely silent.

Instead of the regular influx of thoughts that flooded his brain, Greg just heard his heartbeat and his breathing. Well, the T.V. too, but the point is that something was off.

The face of House’s watch read fifteen minutes before eleven o’clock at night, and Greg hadn’t thought if a single thing since the surgery.

The case was an unusual one- as always- consisting of a pregnant photographer who had a stroke. After fainting, House and the team had deducted that the baby (House consistently reffered to it as ‘the fetus’) was killing the mother. Eventually, her organs started to shut down so a surgery was needed to fix the baby to fix Emma.

During the surgery, the unborn child had reached out and clasped it’s tiny hand around Greg’s pointer finger. The baby’s arm wasn’t even the length of Greg’s finger, House noticed. Truly, Greg hadn’t realized how long he had been staring at the baby’s fingers until Cuddy had called his name twice.

Now House thought of that moment in the operating room. He pressed his thumb down lightly to match the amount of pressure Greg felt when the baby held onto him.

Kids were a nuisance. A waste of money, the reason why so many people had heart attacks, and disrespectful. But… they were also cute sometimes and, apparently, wanted nothing more than to make their mommy and daddy proud of them. Well, that’s what Wilson had said when Greg had asked why people wanted kids so badly.

Greg didn’t know if you wanted kids.

You were great with them at any age- infant, toddler, and even those devilish pre-teens. In fact, you seemed to glow whenever someone trusted you to hold their baby. You made sure to look up and find Greg: watching you like he always does. He can’t help but feel a wry smile pull at his lips when he pictures you, your own finger being clutched by your own baby.

Greg was torn; he didn’t know what he wanted.

“I think I’m going to blow up,” you sang as you closed the door behind you. Greg stays still, thumb still pressing on his pointer finger.

You toe off your shoes and start to unbuckle your jeans as you head for your shared room. Greg doesn’t look up when you eventually traipse back out wearing Greg’s sweatpants and and old shirt Greg didn’t know he had. You navigate yourself under his arms and carefully over his leg to lay carefully on him. Greg feels the slow puff of your breath on his neck as you exhale. “Did you eat already, love?”

Greg lets out his own sigh and he let’s his hands rest on your back. “No. Expired lasagna didn’t really sound too appealing to my refined taste,” he replies.

“What’s wrong?” You ask looking up at him.

Greg blinks at you. As he slowly meets your eyes, he starts to feel you hand gently raking his hair back and running your thumb over his prickly facial hair. Just like you always do.

And then it comes to him.

“Do you… want kids?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “I… don’t think so. I don’t- well, you don’t want kids, do you?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Greg chided, squeezing your ass. “Do you want kids?”

It takes you a ling moment to answer. So long, in fact, that Greg thinks you may have fallen asleep with your eyes open. “Probably not. I don’t think you want kids so I haven’t really thought about it. Why?”

Greg keeps going. “Would you want kids? With me?”

You lay your head back down on his chest. “Yeah. If you wanted them too.”

House doesn’t really know how to proceed with the conversation, so he lets you play with his fingers as you watch the baseball game Greg put on. “I want one.”

Your movements stop. Yet again, you peer up at Greg. This time with unhealthily furrowed eyebrows. One of your hands comes up to check your boyfriend’s temperature. “Are you okay? Do I need to call Wilson?”

Greg looks pained as his hands slide up your body to rest at your face. His thumbs rest on your cheekbones. “I want a baby with you, y/n,” he tells you, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. “I want- I want your womb to swell with our kid. I want a little extension of you to put up with when you’re working late. I want you to marry me and I want you to be the mother of my child.”

Your mouth dropped open. “That’s- wow.”

“Wow,” Greg repeats with an unsure smile.

“I’m not going to lie,” you say, cracking a smile. “I’m pretty turned on right now. I’m just really surprised that you have baby fever.”

Greg groans. “Tell me what you want, woman! I just rather uncharacteristically spilled my guts and you say ‘wow’!”

You snicker and support Greg’s neck with your hand as you lean up to kiss him. As expected, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist and reciprocates your passion tenfold.

“We could practice the baby-making for the honeymoon,” you whisper after pulling away from his lips.

Greg’s eyes flutter closed and you chuckle. “I would say ‘race you to the bedroom’, but I think you’re going to beat me anyway,” he rasps. You exhale a laugh through your nose as you start to press kisses from his lips hown to his neck. “Let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?” Greg asks, humping you pathetically as you kiss him.

“Fuck yeah,” you respond lowly, a dangerous smile in your face.