Always Walk Me Home
Always Walk Me Home
Max Verstappen x Reader
Masterlist
Summary: You and Max are keeping things casual. Sooo casual. You can be casual. Right?
a/n: Heeeeere we go, his number is in my bio for a reason, it’s my other favorite boy! This one is heavily inspired by some of the prompts on this list. anyways enjoy!
Warnings: alcohol/mild intoxication, mild sexual references, google translated Dutch
Things with Max are… brand new. Everything is still fresh. Everything he does gives you butterflies, makes your heart skip a beat. It’s the honeymoon phase, as everyone calls it.
It’s so brand new that nobody knows. Nothing is… official, yet. You’ve just been on a few dates, had a few movie nights. You’ve stayed at his place a couple times, waking up with his arm around your waist and Jimmy and Sassy curled up next to you. It’s casual. You’re keeping things casual. Max seems content to feel things out, to keep seeing you without labeling it. You’re trying so hard to be casual about it that it’s almost embarrassing.
You feel like everyone sees straight through you. On top of spending time alone together, you and Max are friends, so you see each other at group outings and clubs and dinners with your other friends. Max acts the same there as he always has- kind, courteous, and friendly. You won’t lie, sometimes you wish he’d hold your hand or pull your chair out for you or something, anything to show you that you’re not the only one feeling less than casual. But you’re scared of scaring him away, so you keep your mouth shut.
…..
You’re out to dinner with friends, somehow ending up sitting next to him. It’s nice, really nice. You can smell his cologne, can feel the warmth radiating off of him at the packed table. You have to fight the urge to nudge his foot with yours, to press your knee against his. That wouldn’t be very casual of you. You can do this, you can be normal.
He’s saying something to the person next to him, laughing and leaning towards them. You want to be the reason he’s laughing, want to be in on the jokes. You keep your mouth shut and look at the menu instead.
“What are you going to get?” Max asks.
He’s suddenly in your space. He’s leaning close, his shoulder brushing against yours. Be normal. You shrug, sliding your finger down the menu.
“Probably the shrimp scampi,” you say, pointing at the item.
Max nods. “You love seafood.”
You blink, breath caught in your chest. He’s right, but you didn’t know he knew that. Let alone for him to say it as fact. It’s not like he’s whispering either- someone else could hear. It’s silly, because it’s such a small thing, but you’re overanalyzing everything about it.
“I do,” you agree, turning and smiling at him.
“I remember things,” he says, a soft smile on his face, and now your face is growing hot.
Someone draws his attention away, and you look back to the menu. You nearly yelp in shock when something brushes your knee, but- it’s Max, you realize with a start, his hand searching for something. You hold your breath. His fingers find yours, and he interlaces your hands, palm to palm. He keeps them resting on your leg.
You try to take even breaths. He’s holding your hand in public, with your friends right next to you. Sure, it’s under the table, but this is the most you’ve gotten from him in a setting like this. He’s held your hand on dates, done much more in the privacy of his home, but here it feels overwhelming. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, and you resist the urge to hold on so tightly to him that he can’t let go.
Eventually the food comes, and you both let go so you can eat. But it was nice while it lasted.
…..
Max’s apartment is spacious and cozy, despite the fact that he’s gone from it so often. There’s a warmth here, an aura that just screams Max. His cats roam freely, though while you’re there they have a tendency to follow you around.
“They are traitors,” Max accuses as Jimmy and Sassy weave around your ankles in the kitchen.
“Maybe I’m just better than you,” you say.
“Oh, you are,” he says, sending up a swirl of butterflies in your stomach. “But I feed them. So they are traitors.”
You laugh, leaning down to pet the cats. They nudge their heads against your hands and legs, paw at your socks, and when you walk into the living room, they follow after. Max just watches with disappointment.
By the time he joins you in the living room, drinks in hand, both of them are curled up in your lap. He lets out a huff and sets the drinks on the table. Then he’s nudging at the cats, and you cry out when he pushes them both off your lap.
“Max!” You say, appalled.
He laughs, lays down on the couch, and promptly placed his head exactly where the two cats had been. He stares up at you with a wide grin, eyes squeezed nearly shut.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you answer.
He reaches for one of your hands. He squeezes your fingers softly before bringing your hand up to his hair. You laugh and take the hint, start running your fingers through the blonde strands. He lets his eyes fall shut. Then you watch as he brings his hand up, purses his lips, and points at them.
You take that hint too, lean over and plant a kiss on his lips. When you try to pull away, he wraps a hand around the back of your neck and keeps you there. He deepens the kiss, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of your neck to hold you there. It’s not the best angle, but it’s nice, always nice to kiss him.
He finally lets you go and collapses back into your lap, a satisfied smile on his reddened lips.
…..
“I can’t open it!” You squeak. “What the fuck, how do they make it look so easy?”
You’re holding a bottle of champagne in your friend’s apartment, trying to get the cork out. It doesn’t help that you’re scared- one too many horror stories about someone getting a cork to the eye, or breaking a window. You huff and try again, gently. No use.
“Lando slams it on the ground,” your friend suggests, her eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, and he also shattered one of Max’s trophies,” you say. “So maybe not the best example.”
You hear familiar laughter, then, and you drop one hand to your side, still holding the bottle in front of you with the other. Max makes his way through the kitchen, a smile on his lips that paints his whole face. You hold it out to him, pouting.
“No, no,” he says. “I’ll show you.”
He wraps his hand around yours, around the bottle. You can’t lie, your mind goes somewhere else for a second, but you tamp those thoughts down and try to focus.
“See, you put this hand on the cork,” he instructs, “and this hand on the bottom.”
His hands are warm over yours. Your face feels hot. Does he feel the sparks when his skin touches yours, too? Or is this normal for him? Is it just a friend helping another friend? You wish you knew, wish he’d say something to quell your worries and calm your racing heart.
“-and then you twist, like this,” he demonstrates.
The bottle hisses, and you jump, but there’s no dramatic pop, no shooting of the cork. You just pull it out, and you stare at the bottle with wide eyes. Oh. That was-
“Easy, right?” He says. “You are already a pro.”
You laugh, shake your head, and hold out the bottle to your friends, standing there with their empty glasses. You want to study their faces, ask them if they noticed anything. You want to ask if they saw the sparks, too. Someone takes the bottle, and your hands fall to your side, the cork still between your fingers.
Your knuckles brush against something- when you look, it’s Max’s hand. He’s still standing there, watching as everyone passes the bottle around. You swallow tightly, bump your hand into his. Deliberately. You want to look up at his face, want to gauge his reaction, but you resist the urge.
Max reaches his pinky out and hooks it with yours. For just a moment, standing in the kitchen, surrounded by your friends, you’re linked. The sparks run from his finger, up your wrist and arm and straight to your heart. Your chest fizzes like the champagne, bubbly and overflowing.
…..
You weren’t even planning on seeing Max tonight. It’s a girls night, one that’s been suggested over and over, each of you being too busy to make it happen until tonight. You’re at your favorite bar, bass thudding in your chest, your friends all around you.
And then, there’s a tingling feeling in your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Someone is watching you. You turn over your shoulder and lock eyes with Max.
He’s leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. He has a black t-shirt on that’s always been one of your favorites- it hugs his upper arms and his chest so perfectly. He’s watching you, a soft smirk on his lips, a drink in his hand. Everyone is moving around you, but you’re stuck on him.
You smile, wave, and force yourself to turn back to your friends. You like him, you want to spend time with him, but you’ve been neglecting your friendships because of it. Your friends have been teasing you all night about how you’ve been too busy, how you keep checking your phone, how there must be a guy. You’ve denied it at every turn. You can’t leave them now. Ditching your friends for the guy who isn’t even your boyfriend would be the opposite of casual. You force yourself not to look at him, but you swear you can still feel him staring.
Ten minutes later, a bartender appears with a tray of shots and lime wedges. “For you,” she says, pointing at you, and your friends squeal in excitement. She points behind you, then. “From him.”
You turn over your shoulder again. Max is watching, and waving this time. You laugh and wave back, and your friends all do the same. He’s far away, too far to make it in time as you each grab a shot and throw them back in unison. You put the lime between your lips and turn to look at him again, raising your brows. He laughs, eyes lit up so bright you can see the blue even across the room, you swear. Then he juts his chin in the direction of the hallway when nobody else is looking. A message just for you.
You find him out there ten minutes later, trying not to make it obvious and taking the time to come up with an excuse- you fake a phone call. The hall is empty when you walk out, and you wonder if he’s given up on you- you know you saw him walk out. Then he pops his head out from around a corner and waves you over frantically.
He’s leaning against the wall, the same way he was in the club. You stand against the wall on the other side of the hallway and stare at him.
“I’m not leaving right now,” you say. “I promised I’d stay out late.”
“I know,” he says. “Just wanted to see you.”
You tilt your head. “Yeah? Seeing me across the bar wasn’t enough?”
The tequila running in your veins has you feeling braver than usual. It doesn’t seem to scare Max. He just grins wider, brow quirked.
“No, it wasn’t,” he says. “You’re pretty from far away, but even prettier up close.”
Your face feels hot. He pushes off from the wall, leans towards you. He could box you in if he wanted, could pin you right there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes your hand in his and pulls you away from the wall, too. The kiss he sweeps you into is sweet. He wraps his arm around you, and you sling yours around the back of his neck. One of his hands cradles the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. Out of all of it, you’re much more focused on the feeling of his thumb on your cheek than the feeling of his lips on yours. It’s strangely intimate, strangely soft, the way he holds you as he kisses you in the hallway of a bar. The way his nose nudges against your cheek, the way he pulls you closer and closer like he can’t get enough.
He pulls away, leaves you gasping for air.
“You taste like lime,” he says.
You nod, dumbfounded.
“You should go back to your friends,” he suggests, kissing your temple. “If I keep kissing you I won’t want to let you go.”
You breathe out a laugh and slap his shoulder. “If you keep staring at me in the club I won’t be able to focus on anything else.”
He laughs. “I know,” he says. “That’s what makes it fun. Besides, you’re fun to watch.”
…..
Three days later, Max is holding your purse. He’d taken it from you when you were all standing in the lobby of the restaurant and your friend dragged you into the bathroom. He’d promised to keep it safe. Now you’re back, your friends are gathering their things and saying goodbyes, getting ready to go home. You’re watching him.
The little black bag looks even smaller in his hands. His fingers are wrapped around the clutch, thumb rubbing back and forth across one of the stitches the same way it had on your skin the night before. He’s talking to someone else, but when there’s a break in the conversation, you nudge him.
“I can take that back,” you say, holding your hand out.
He tilts his head, blinks softly. “That’s okay. I’ll carry it.”
You’re sure you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. “Okay, but I’m leaving, so I need my purse.”
He nods. “I thought maybe I could walk you home. If you wanted.”
You nod in response, feeling a bit dumbfounded. The two of you exit the restaurant, waving goodbye to your friends. He takes your hand the second you’re outside, your purse still in his other one. Your fingers knit together like second nature, now. You could predict the pattern of the brush of his thumb against your skin like clockwork.
Your apartment isn’t far, but you find yourself walking slow on purpose, prolonging the moment. You pass people on the street and you know that to them, the two of you look like a real, actual couple. It’s nice to pretend. You lean into his shoulder, and he stumbles and laughs and keeps both of you upright. The two of you talk the whole way there, about everything and nothing and all the stuff in between.
When you reach the apartment building, he finally holds your purse out to you. You open the clutch, digging through it to find your keys and the front door access card. He watches in amusement as your fingers fumble through the bag.
“D’you wanna come up?” You ask. “I have some of that wine you like.”
You pull the card triumphantly from your bag. You look up at him, and he’s smiling softly, something sparkling in his eyes that makes your breath hitch. Makes the champagne bubble in your chest all over again.
“That’s okay,” he says, softly. “I’ve got to get back to the cats. But can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”
You blink, card still pinched between your fingers. “Yeah, sure.”
He tilts his head at you. “Maybe brunch. You are going to need sleep. How about you text me when you wake up and we’ll go from there?”
You nod. He nods back. Then he reaches up, cups the side of your face in his hand. He’s so gentle about it, more so than he normally is. When he presses his lips to yours, he tastes like gin and he kisses like… like he cares for you. Like this isn’t leading somewhere else, like he’s not going to pull you into his lap and start trailing kisses down your neck. He kisses you just to kiss you, just to say goodnight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says when he pulls away. “Goodnight, liefje.”
You smile up at him. “Goodnight, Max.”
He smiles back. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to your forehead softly. You swear you’re melting into the sidewalk. You must be a puddle under his feet. You want to press yourself into his chest, tell him to wrap his arms around you, ask him to never let you go.
But you’re trying so hard to be so good at being casual, so you kiss his cheek, turn around, and walk inside. You take the elevator up, leaning against the wall and covering your giddy smile with your hand. When you get into your apartment, kick off your heels, and drop your bag on the counter, your phone buzzes. It’s a call. You look at the screen and see Max’s face.
“Hello?” You answer.
“Did you get in alright?” He asks.
Your heart squeezes fiercely in your chest. He sounds so soft, asking it. You walk over to the window, peel back the curtains, hoping you’re right about what you think you’ll see. There he is, still standing in front of the entrance, phone to his ear. He’s staring up at your window. When he sees you, he waves.
“Yeah,” you say. “You didn’t have to wait, you know.”
But I’m so glad you did.
“Yes I did,” he says, voice soft and scratchy from the night out. “Had to make sure you were safe.”
“Okay,” you breathe. “Let me know when you get home, okay?”
“I will,” he says. You watch as he waves again, smiling up at you. “Goodnight.”
…..
He picks you up for brunch the next day. By the time you’re in his car, it’s nearly 10:30. He drives with his hand on your knee, like always, fingers dancing across your exposed skin below the hem of your sundress. You like watching him drive, like being here with him. He pulls up to the restaurant and runs around to open your door for you, leaving you laughing. He hands the keys to the valet. Then he slips his arm around your waist and leads you inside.
You’ve been on dates with him, but none this fancy, none where you feel a little out of your element. Max seems comfortable, though- it’s moments like these where you’re reminded he’s not just your-friend-Max. He’s three-time-F1-world-champion-Max-Verstappen. Of course he can get a reservation here with such short notice. They’re honored to have him here.
A waiter leads you to a booth in the back. The restaurant is bright and airy, fresh flowers on every table. Max asks for a pitcher of water and orange juice before the waiter leaves. He pulls your chair out for you, pushes it in when you sit down. Your palms are sweating, heart beating rapidly. It’s just- this is the closest you’ve come to feeling like you’re actually dating him. Suddenly, it’s terrifying.
You ask him what’s good on the menu. He points out his favorites- the French toast, the eggs Benedict, the omelettes. He tells you he’s going to order a fruit sampler for the two of you to share, and you smile softly.
“They always have the best strawberries,” he tells you, eyes lit up. “You love strawberries.”
“I do,” you tell him, warmth filling your cheeks. “You do too.”
You’d bonded over that, when you first became friends. A strawberry wine that nobody else wanted to drink. Too sweet. You’d split the bottle with Max and went to bed with a sugar rush, your lips still tasting like strawberry. Ever since, for every special occasion, the two of you have gifted each other that same strawberry wine. It’s a running joke, among your friends- you’ll open the bottle, ask if anyone wants a glass. They’ll ignore you, but Max will come running.
He opens his mouth to say something, but over his shoulder, you spot something that makes your blood run cold.
“Shit,” you mutter.
He looks at you in concern. “What is it?”
“Nothing, just-“ you sigh. “Your coworker is here.”
Charles Leclerc has just walked in the door, a girl on his arm. The waiter is pointing in your general direction, towards an open table a little ways away. There goes your whole morning. He’s going to want to leave now.
Max turns to look, brows raised. “Oh. At least it’s one I like.”
You can’t help the laugh. “Should we go?”
Max turns back to you, perplexed. “What, get up to say hi? I don’t like him that much. He’ll come over here when he sees us.”
Us. You wish he meant it how you want him to.
“No, like-“ you sigh, gaze flickering down to the table. “You don’t want people to know, so-“
“What?” He asks, wide eyed. “What do you mean, I don’t want-“
“You didn’t want to tell anyone,” you say, quietly. You can’t look at him. “We haven’t even really talked about this, and… I figured you…”
You trail off, because you can feel him staring at you. He reaches over and tucks his finger under your chin. He tilts your face upwards towards his. His gaze is soft, a small smile on his face.
“Schat, you have to be joking,” he says, and you stare back at him. “Of course I want to tell people. I have wanted to tell the whole world since I kissed you the first time.”
You blink. “But you- you didn’t want to put a label on it. You never…”
“We never talked about it,” he says. “I was giving you time. I’m a lot. Dating me is a lot. You are… I was following your lead.”
“Oh my god,” you blurt out, a giddy feeling in your chest. “Oh my god, I’m so dumb.”
The two of you just stare at each other for a moment. His eyes are bright and sparkling, his smile spreading across his whole face. You’re so done being casual.
Charles appears at the end of your table seconds later, smiling at the two of you. “Max, hi, good to see you. And I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” he adds, turning to you.
“Charles, this is my girlfriend,” Max says, reaching across the table to take your hand.
When you greet Charles, you can’t wipe the giddy grin from your face. It stays there the whole rest of the day- through breakfast, through a walk through a park, through a late lunch at Max’s with the cats winding around your ankles. Every time it starts to fade you think of Max, bright blue eyes, his finger under your chin. You fall asleep still smiling. You’re pretty sure it’ll be there when you wake up.
…..
The next time you go out with your friends, Max carries your bag the whole night. He also keeps his hand on the small of your back nearly constantly. He orders and pays for all of your drinks, includes you in all the conversations, and brushes his lips against your temple every time there’s a lull in the talking.
Nobody questions it. None of your friends even bat an eye. You find out why when you end up in the bathroom with the girls, a tradition as old as time itself.
It turns out they all already knew.
“Max told us all the day after he kissed you the first time,” someone tells you. “And then he told us we all had to act like nothing was different, because he didn’t want to scare you off.”
You collapse into a fit of laughter, bracing yourself against the sink. All this time, you were worried about it, and he’d told everyone right away. You’d thought you were the one struggling to be casual. God, you’d have saved yourself so much trouble if you’d only asked. If you’d only told him straightforward what you wanted. If you’d only been up front.
You’re giddy with it, then. You can feel it coursing through your veins and buzzing in your fingertips. You won’t call it love yet, at least not out loud. It’s too soon, right? It can’t be love. But it’s something, and now you want him next to you. You want his lips on yours again. You’re missing him even though he’s just through the door, waiting for you, your bag in his hand.
When you return to his side, you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. You watch his smile grow and his cheeks turn red. You place your hand on his shoulder and put your lips against his ear.
“You should take me home,” you tell him.
His cheeks get even redder, and he turns to you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “You’ll walk me home, right?”
“Always,” he agrees.
He takes your hand, squeezes lightly. You feel like you’re glowing brighter than the neon lights above your head.
…..
You slip up over your morning cup of coffee three days later. The cats are in your lap. There’s the perfect amount of cream and sugar in the mug, he’s made it exactly right. The sun is shining through the windows, bouncing off his hair and painting his skin in golden light. You weren’t going to say it out loud, you really weren’t, but it slips past your lips anyways.
“I love you,” you say.
Max laughs, takes the mug from your hands, and kisses you.
Then he says it right back.
read the prequel/ sequel, Someone Sane
okay, now I’ve got my three favorite boys in the masterlist! thanks for reading! come say hi, or check out more of my writing here. drop an ask or a dm to be added to the tag list!
taglist: @4-mula1
More Posts from Pleaseultraviolenceme and Others
idk why im sending this to you specifically but i cant stop thinking about james being on top during sex and his glasses just falling off every two seconds. and like he refuses to take them off bc he "wants to see you" but also sir, im getting hit in the face by your glasses.
this post is 18+, minors dni.
Metal hits the bridge of your nose for the fourth time since James hooked one leg on either side of your waist, and you reach up to snatch the spectacles off of your face.
"That's it. You're done."
"No!" James grabs for the glasses, gentle but insistent as he tries not to crush them, "No, darling please, I want to see you!"
"You want to see me, James?" You huff, an insistent ache between your thighs at the perpetual friction against your clothed crotch as James lazily grinds down onto you, "I'm sure there's a big bruise on my face now, you want to see it?"
"They haven't bruised your face," James has managed to snatch his glasses back and he balances them precariously on his nose once more, the nosepads already sliding down his sweat-beaded face, "You look lovely darling. You look pissed, but lovely."
"If those things fall onto my face one more time, I'll snap 'em-" The rest of your sentence is lost to a moan that you can't fight back as James rolls his hips hard against yours.
"Yes, yes, you'll snap them and then I won't be able to find my way to the front door," James gripes, latching his lips onto your jaw in a suctioned kiss, "Let's settle down darling, hm? Your threats are really killing the mood."
okay i’m gonna just shove it in ur inbox bc … havent stopped thinking about it but the post u reblogged about the skirt & about being fucked at dinner but w/ mick like …. i Need This
this + mick 🥵 // post
Silverstone has been good to your boyfriend.
His first points.
Everyone at Haas was beyond proud but no one more so than you. You stepped back, letting him bask in the feeling for a while, being congratulated by the whole time, doused in champagne.
Mick found you, picking you up in a bone crushing hug as he kissed all over your face. He finally kissed your lips, sticky and bitter like champagne but you could care less, the happiness trumped all other concerns.
“We have to celebrate tonight.” You tell him, walking him over for his team photo.
“of course we do.”
Mick’s idea of celebrating meant staying at the hotel and fucking every way to next Sunday.
He thought you two were on the same page, hence why he was slightly upset to be sitting in a restaurant with you.
You were making polite conversation with the waitress, telling her a little inside gossip about F1 — harmless stuff, Mick was sure but he had other motives.
His fingers trailed along your bare thigh under the table. Your skirt had slid up when you sat down beside him. The two of you at a booth, sitting side by side. The restaurant was fairly busy, mostly couples and a few families in between.
You ignore his touch, thanking the waitress for something she offered you as you sipped on your wine.
You nearly dropped the glass when Mick’s finger brushed against your clothed clit.
“Mick,” you breathe, glancing at him.
“Yeah darling ?” He asks causally, like his fingers weren’t doing sinful things to you under the table.
Mick pulls your panties to the side, fingers feeling how wet you were. “Hm, you were saying?” He ask you, not doing anything.
“We’re in public-“ you stop when you feel him push two fingers into you.
You bite the inside of your cheek, breathing steadily as he moves his fingers slowly. Your hand wraps around his wrist, he ignores it and keeps doing, curling his fingers upwards until he feels you squeeze around them.
Mick leans into you, whispering; “you gonna cum ? Should I let you?”
You can’t physically bring yourself to answer so you nod.
Mick pulls his fingers away, wiping them on the inside of your thigh as the waitress brings the bill over to the table. He leaves her a big tip, thanking her for being so kind before getting up. His hand reached out for you, and you take it, following him through the back of the restaurant.
You figured you two were going to the car but Mick pulls you into the bathroom, locking the door behind you two.
He’s quick to pick you up, setting you on the counter. You already know what’s about to happen.
Your legs spread, Mick unbuttoning his pants as you watch him. He pulls you further on the counter, his arms holding you in place as he lines himself up with you, pushing into you.
Your head falls back, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
“Fuck, Mick.” Your hand on his bicep, digging your nails into his arm when he hits the spot.
Jake Peralta + "controversially" younger partner (16 year gap)
ok but imagine you're 20 at a club, you used a fake id to get in and you're scared shitless. and then the fucking police show up questioning people about a drug case so you definitely decide: it's time to go.
you pack up your cute little mini backpack and say bye to your friends and you bump right into detective Jake Peralta and you see the badge and expect him to be angry and instead he just smiles at you as he helps you find your footing and you adjust the tiny skirt that suddenly doesn't feel like enough fabric. "are you ok?"
imagine you've been dating for about 8 months before you meet the squad and they start in on the jokes. "don't you have school in the morning?" "is it almost bed time?" Terry LITERALLY calls you " kiddo" and Jake doesn't understand why they're joking.
"dude they're like a college sophomore, youre 36."
"they are not a college sophomore 😮"
que an awkward conversation later that week after scheme after scheme have failed and trying to see your driver's license or birth certificate 'naturally' you're laying next to each other in his bed he just turns and says "how old are you?"
"20" you shrug and keep scrolling on your phone.
"oh my God, I'm a cradle robber."
"that is actually such a wild thing to say right now."
make a wish, huh? i wish i wish with all my heart for reader to have pissed off her daddy dom in the field. so as a punishment she has to sit on this big man’s shoe while he does paperwork. cockwarming him with her mouth until he decides no matter how bad she’s whining and needing him, that she can rock and get herself off. but only if she listens to him. if not? if she’s a brat and she’s being really really needy?? i do believe that causes for a spanking, don’t you? over his knee, skirt rolled up.. you know. just a wish 😈🙏🏻
Knees | Dom!Aaron Hotchner
The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Blurb
Pairing: Dom!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/sub!Reader
Words: 2k
CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.
Tags/warnings: master!hotch, bunny!reader, established D/s relationship, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), pet names (bunny).
a/n: when Morgan asks for something, you give it to her.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
You swallowed and his entire body tensed up under you. He hissed in disapproval, his darkened gaze almost searing a hole through yours. You couldn’t help it, saliva had been pooling in the corners of your mouth for a few minutes and it was either swallow or let it drip down your throat. And let’s be honest, the latter did not sound as naughty as the former. You knew how he’d react, knew that his cock would twitch at the slight change in pressure, knew that he would know what you were doing.
You didn’t let his stare scare you. Instead, you returned your own — round, innocent eyes that glistened with tears. It wasn’t that he was hurting you, on the contrary, he was giving you something that you craved yet it was a punishment that he knew was sure to make you lose your mind. His cock in your mouth, warm and heavy on your tongue, thick and hard against your throat. Unmoving, still, agonizing.
He’d asked you into his office the second the last agent had left for the night. You knew what it was about, knew what awaited you the second he locked the doors and closed the blinds. And fortunately for you, it had not been the professional reprimand that you’d thought.
Unfortunately for you, he had made you strip completely, only allowing you to keep your panties. The cold air made your nipples hard and your skin erupt in goosebumps. He led you down on your knees, your pussy landing on his expensive leather shoe. He was calm and collected as he rolled his desk chair further into his desk, caging you against the wood at your back and his wood at your front.
“Open,” he commanded, and fearing any more repercussions after your major, his words, mild, your words, fuck up in the field, you eagerly did as he asked. A hint of a smile graced his lips as he watched you, an overwhelming sense of pride and satisfaction burning through his body as he unbuckled his belt. It was painfully slow and you were overly eager as you realized what he was commanding you to do. You were about to reach out to help him speed along the process when his eyes darkened in warning, your hands immediately falling against your sides.
“Color?” he asked, a hint of cockiness in his voice startled you.
“Green, sir,” you replied, the implications of your consent not yet clear.
“Good,” with that he sprung his cock free from his underwear. He was already semi hard, the tip glistened with pre cum and you couldn’t help but salivate at the excitement. “This is not a treat, bunny,” your eyes met his again before he continued. “You are going to take me in your mouth but you may not make me cum, am I understood?”
Oh no. Aaron knew how much you loved to give him head, how you reveled in watching him come undone by your skilled tongue. It was one of the first things he’d learned about you, one of the things he couldn’t believe you liked doing. Which is why he knew that every fiber in your body would light up in protest. You wanted to scream, argue, throw a tantrum — but you didn’t. Instead you simply nodded solemnly. You had done this to yourself and there was no one else to blame.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl,” he praised and the excitement in your lower belly went up in flames again. “You will be a perfect, still angel until I finish my paperwork, and then we’ll see if you’ve earned the right to get yourself off on my shoe.”
“Thank you, sir.”
And with that he rolled his chair all the way into his desk, one hand around his cock, the other grabbing your chin and pulling you where he wanted you. The movement made your pussy graze against his rough laces and you had to stop yourself from moaning. You could already feel your wetness start to pool and he’d literally done nothing yet. His fingers pressed against your cheeks and your mouth opened on its own, wide and eager, as he placed a third of his length on your tongue.
You could’ve started crying right then and there, but you didn’t. You would not let him break you that easily.
“Do you remember how to safe word, bunny?” He asked, he always asked.
You nodded, making your tongue rub against the underside of his length. You tapped his leg once. Yes. “How do you tap out?”
You tapped his leg twice and he rewarded you by patting your cheek, gently at first, but then his pats turned into soft smacks, right against the tip of his cock inside your mouth. He groaned loudly, the sounds slowly making you lose all sense of self as you felt him twitch inside your mouth.
“Fuck, bunny,” he moaned. “This is going to be a long night.”
And long it was. You had lost track of time. At first you decided to count the seconds, minutes, hours, whatever to distract yourself from moving, from what you actually wanted to do. But it was impossible. Your arms had wrapped around his leg to hold yourself steady, your legs had started to wobble and so you’d given up and fully sat yourself down on his shoe.
You were gone, your brain wasn’t working anymore. All you could think about was the weight of his cock in your mouth and how much you wanted to move. Move your tongue, move your head, move your hands to wrap around his base, move your hips to give yourself some kind of relief.
You swallowed again, this time accidentally, and because of your miscalculation, your flat tongue grazed against his length, making you roll your eyes back in euphoria. You didn’t register as your hips started moving, as your pussy made contact with the rough, uneven surface of his laces, as your wetness drenched his shoe. Your clit grazed against a buckle and you moaned, loudly. That was the final straw.
Without a word of warning he rolled his chair out, his hands quickly grabbing you under your armpits and effortlessly lifting you from under the desk. Your mind snapped back to reality in an instant. Glazed eyes turned sharp, numbness turned responsive, daze turned into realization. You were about to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to let the tears fall when he sat you down on his lap, your legs on either side of his own.
“Sir—”
His palm landed with a smack on your ass, the sting making you whimper. You had learned early on that there were times when he was so overwhelmed that he couldn’t bring himself to verbalize his commands. Instead, he’d gotten into the habit of turning them into action. A single spank was a warning to be quiet, to save whatever groveling — he wasn’t going to listen to it.
“When I give you a command, I expect you to follow it,” he said, anger lacing every word.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, your head hanging low avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t mean it—”
That made him snap, his right hand landing another smack against your reddening ass as his left tightly grasped your jaw, pulling your head up to face him.
“Like you didn’t mean to go into that apartment without backup?”
He was concerned, so much in fact that it was the easiest you’d ever been able to read him. You knew he’d been concerned for you. As your boss, you knew he cared for you. But as your Dom…that was a whole different story. You’d done your best to compartmentalize, to trust the other in your skills and training, to accept that you would both be put in scary situations when out in the field. But right then and there, you knew, you saw. He was terrified.
“Yes,” you breathed, the heavy understanding of your punishment washing over you like ice cold water. “It will not happen again. Sir.”
His eyes bore into yours, searching, but you knew what he would find. You cared too. It wasn’t like you had planned on going in without backup, it was that you both understood that the job came first, that whatever instinct made you follow through, no matter how reckless, had probably been for the best of the case. And as much as you both knew, if it made him feel more comfortable to remind you to be careful in this way, you would let him do it every single time.
“Good girl,” he praised, his lips hovering over yours teasingly. “I think you deserve a treat, don’t you?”
You nodded rapidly, making him smirk. You reveled in it, in his smile, in the warmth that was seeing him experience happiness in whatever form it might take. He gently guided you back to your knees in front of his chair and your eyes lit up.
“Make me cum, bunny,” he sat back down, legs spread open like inviting you to a buffet, chest rising and falling, his white button up straining with each breath.
You wasted no time getting to work, your hands quickly wrapping themselves around the base of his cock. He was still a little slick from your saliva, but it wasn’t enough, so you reached one hand down your panties, fingers eagerly collecting your slick before you slathered it all over his rock hard erection.
“Jesus Christ, bunny,” he groaned as your hands started to move up and down his shaft. Moves calculated, perfectly pressured, expertly avoiding his needy tip. Pre cum started to leak once more and that’s when you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your tongue darted out on its own volition, eagerly rolling around his tip, hungrily drinking him all in. He moaned loudly, his hand wrapping around your hair and pushing you further down against his length.
You let him, flattening your tongue and opening your throat as you swallowed more and more of his length into your mouth. He stopped at your hand, letting you work your magic then. You wanted him to cum, needed to feel his spend down your throat. Your hands sped up their movements, meeting your mouth sloppily as you bobbed your head up and down to meet them at the base. You continued to roll your tongue around his length as you sucked in your cheeks, tightening around his cock. You could feel him tense, his moans becoming louder and louder, his breathing uneven, his heartbeat aggressive.
“I’m close—” he didn’t even manage to finish his sentence as you removed your hands and took him the rest of the way down your throat. His chest erupted in an animalistic groan as the tension snapped and he spilled down your throat. You moaned at the feeling, at the power that you had over this beautiful man in front of you. As much as you wanted relief of your own, there was nothing more satisfying than having him spill down your throat, than having him come undone by your tongue. The tears finally spilled as you kept him there, patiently waiting for him to finish before you pulled yourself off him. Your eyes locked onto his as you swallowed, making a show of it.
You were both breathing rapidly, both stuck in a pocket of time where nothing else but the two of you existed, both completely satisfied in your own ways. He ran his hand over his face then, breaking the spell, knowing that if he stayed any longer, he’d say something he’d regret. Instead he took in a sharp breath and placed himself back into his pants before he reached out to help you to your feet. He led you back on his lap and this time he cradled you, warm hands running all over your cold body. You hummed against his chest, your own hands tightly grabbing a hold of his suit jacket.
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he murmured before he pressed a kiss to your temple.
“Yes, Master.”
idk if i'm "back" yet, but here's my offering to you on this saturday. but mostly bc i wanted to fuck with morgan while she's busy and can't do anything about it.
tags: @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @callm3c0nfus3d, @xladyxdreamer, @gr3enflowers, @lilyviolets, @howabouticallyou, @shadowmemory, @simp4f1, @honeylovemoon, @powerlvr25, @formulapierre, @spenciesprincess, @extra-trash77 (if i missed anyone please let me know!)
jenson button masterlist
all blurbs are listed from oldest to newest - oldest being on the top and newest on the bottom. // it’ll be updated as I post!
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king of my heart requested!
toto wolff x ex!driver!reader
( Ok hear me out... Toto Wolff with a ex driver reader (first female driver maybe in redbull or Ferrari but retired) and she knew toto back when he was racing and she was racing and they liked each other but never confessed
Fast forward to now where she's been invited by (redbull/ Ferrari ) and idk somehow they reconnect )
In the heart of the bustling Formula 1 paddock, where speed and ambition were matched only by the relentless buzz of the media, Toto Wolff stood by the Mercedes garage, his delicate dark brown eyes scanning the sea of people moving about. It was another race weekend, but this time, there was something extraordinary in the air. He had received a message that someone from his past was back in the racing world. A name he hadn't heard in years: Y/N
You had been a trailblazer, a pioneer in a sport dominated by men. You were the first female driver to ever compete in Formula 1, but your career had been cut short due to an unfortunate accident that left you sidelined. Yet, you had never truly left the world of racing. You had become an advocate for women in motorsport, working tirelessly to break down the barriers that had kept so many talented females from reaching the pinnacle of racing.
As Toto watched the cars zipping by on the track, a voice called out his name. He turned to see a familiar face in the crowd. It was you, unmistakable with your beautifully tied hair and a smile that lit up the paddock. Toto felt a rush of emotions he hadn't experienced in years.
"Y/N," he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and delight.
"Toto," you replied, a hint of nostalgia in your voice. "It's been so long."
You embraced, the years melting away as you held each other. Toto couldn't help but remember your time as fellow drivers, the camaraderie you had shared, and the unspoken connection that had always simmered beneath the surface.
You walked through the paddock together, catching up on each other's lives. You had taken a break from racing to focus on your advocacy work, and your efforts were starting to bear fruit. You had even received invitations from both Red Bull and Ferrari to collaborate on their initiatives to promote diversity and inclusion in motorsport.
Over the course of the weekend, Toto and you found yourselves spending more and more time together. You attended team meetings, watched races, and shared meals. It was as if you had never been apart, and yet, there was a certain tension between you two, a question that lingered in the air, unspoken.
One evening, under the starry sky of the Grand Prix city, Toto and you found yourselves alone on a rooftop terrace, overlooking the glittering lights of the city below. The moment felt right, and the words spilled out.
"Y/N," Toto began, his voice soft but resolute. "There's something I've never told you."
You turned to him, your eyes curious and expectant. "What is it, Toto?"
"When we were both racing," he said, "there was something more than just friendship between us. I never had the courage to say it then, but I… I cared for you deeply."
Your eyes widened, and a smile played on your lips. "Toto, I felt the same way. But we were young, and the world of racing was a different place back then. We never got the chance to explore what might have been."
Toto reached out and took your hand, your fingers interlocking. "Y/N, the world of racing is changing now. And maybe it's time we explore what might have been. If you're willing."
Your eyes sparkled with a mix of emotion as you nodded. "I'd like that, Toto."
As you leaned in to share your first kiss, the city below continued to glitter, and the echoes of your past merged with the promises of the future. In a world where speed and ambition reigned supreme, your love story was a reminder that some connections, no matter how long they've been dormant, are simply meant to be.
needy ☆ cl16
genre: humor, fluff, jealous/possessive!charles, smut, established relationship
word count: 2.3k
A certain dislike bubbles deep inside of the Monegasque when you attend your first race and continue praising his teammate.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...penetrative sex, doggy position, m!receiving, blowjob, elevator sexxxx, choking
req!...aghhh i wish men existedddd
You’re smiling wide, face flustered with genuine happiness as you beam up at the podium from afar. The lights, fireworks, music, and environment fill you with pure adrenaline, and suddenly, you get it. Why a lot of people enjoy the sport, you mean. It was an exciting thing to witness.
But from the garage, where your boyfriend is getting weighed after a tiring race, Charles glares at you and then at Carlos who he can’t quite see but can hear the applause for as they announce his name. He can see the way you clap, the way your eyes crinkle up at his teammate.
It should’ve been him.
“You were amazing, baby!” you cheer as you skip towards him, arms flying over his broad shoulders. He grimaces. I’m sweaty, he protests as he lightly nudges you away. “Oh.” You take a wary step back at his odd behavior that had never taken place before. “I- um…Carlos and Rebecca invited us out for dinner to celebrate. Do you want to go?”
He could tell you wanted to and he hates how much it bothered him. The way it tugged at his heart like a painful needle. “I’m sweaty,” he simply states again.
“You can shower first, I’m sure they won’t mind if we’re a bit late-”
“Or you can go without me.”
You frown, shoulders drooping. “But I don’t want to go without you…”
He blinks. Just as he’s able to speak again, Carlos proudly makes his way over with a shiteating grin. “Charles! Great race, man, I’ve missed driving like that.” They share a fierce hug before the Monegasque sheepishly smiles.
“Yeah, I did too.” A beat. “We’ll probably be a bit late to your dinner.”
The Spaniard waves him off. “That’s alright, as long as you make it. I want to celebrate something like this with my team. Especially since this is our last season together.”
Charles can feel a wave of annoyance towards himself for envying the 29 year old. He did enjoy the race, he was extremely happy for his friend, but it didn’t quite click why it nicked him how you wore a bright smile. He nods, a lazy arm pulling you in towards him. Your brows pinch with confusion. “We’ll be there.”
-
“I’m glad I was able to make it,” you ponder as you reapply with a fresh coat of lipstick. Charles dries his brown locks with a white towel as he stands close by. Me too. You hum, eyes trained on your reflection. “It didn’t seem like it.”
His stomach churns at your sad tone. “I swear I am. Why would you say that?”
A tint of red colors your cheeks as you purse your lips. “For starters, you wouldn’t even let me get close to you. You pushed me away, remember?” He winces at the reminder.
“I d-didn’t want to cover you with my gross sweat,” he tries as you shake your head.
“Like that’s ever been an issue. You’ve played soccer and kissed me. You’ve had a round of basketball and hugged me after an hour of attempting to make a hoop. Or when you played golf under the blazing sun and kept me close no matter what.” You grab your purse as you make your way towards the door. “Don’t make up some stupid excuse, Charles.”
Guilt slithers all around the green eyed boy as he watches you converse with the Scottish model. He feels like an old grump around the most colorful flower, and he’s ruining it. He was determined to make it up to you. “I’m glad you were here to witness my first podium of the season considering it’s your first time attending a race. That way you remember me as your boyfriend's best teammate,” Carlos gloats as you laugh.
“Oh, for sure.”
Jealousy pangs Charles once again as you continue. “I don’t know how you did it…it was a close one. But definitely a great race, you live up to your last name,” you salute as he winks as a thank you. Rebecca agrees besides her boyfriend. “You got me though because - no offense - I thought Charles had it in the bag.”
You’re getting back at him now. He can hear it in your voice as his eye slightly twitches. The Spaniard chuckles. I thought so too. Placing a warm hand over the Monegasque, you swiftly kiss his stubble. “But you were great nonetheless, Cha. My favorite driver without a doubt. My number one…Ooops. Four.”
“Ah, shit,” Lando hisses from down the table as he nibbles on a piece of cake.
Charles fumes. “Aren’t you the sweetest thing, amour? Thank you, thank you very much.”
You giggle. “No problem.”
Coughing awkwardly, Carlos diverts the conversation from the sudden tension as a new topic comes up. You simply jump in with ease as the Monegasque keeps to himself.
He could’ve gotten a podium if it weren’t for his front brake locking. He could’ve been the one celebrating right now with all his friends. He was simply better.
“I’m really going to miss this,” a deep voice rips him away from his thoughts. Carlos sighs. “It’s a struggle, but I will miss it when I’m gone. Especially you,” he says as he points to his teammate. “A sore loser, but you gotta love him.”
Charles scoffs. “I am not a sore loser.”
“He’s right,” you muse. “But trust me, it's incurable. For God's sake, he pouted when I beat his time on the stimulator.”
Pierre gapes. “She beat you? As in her?” Kika laughs, pulling him back by his linen shirt. “That’s actually pretty impressive.”
The Monegasque blushes. “It happened one time. It was probably broken that day.”
“Ahh,” Daniel says as he clicks his tongue. “I totally see it.”
“Would you stop it?” Charles deadpans as the table laughs at his defensive behavior. “I’m honestly happy for Carlos. I am.”
The Spaniard wiggles his dark brows in a teasing manner. “You hate me a little bit though, no?”
He squints his eyes before aiming a napkin at the brown haired driver. “In the very moment, yeah. Maybe a little.” Carlos raises his hands up before smiling. As the night grows older, the more you lean into your boyfriend's touch, eyes fluttering tiredly. “Wanna leave?”
“Not yet,” you murmur against his chest. “One more round of drinks.”
He snickers. “I think you’ve had enough. Here.” He hands you a glass of water. “Drink it all.” Rolling your eyes, you oblige before it actually sobers you up enough to call it a night.
“Congrats again, Carlos!” you chirp as your boyfriend drags you away, swinging Charles’ hand like a glass of champagne. “Here’s to more podiums!”
“More podiums, my ass,” he growls as tugs you out. “You’re such a flirt.”
“Only with you,” you hum as you sloppily kiss his lips. “You look so pretty, Cha, you know? Your eyes, your lips, your hair.” You lean in closer to his ear, whispering. “Your cock.”
“Pretty?” he retorts, trying his best to hide his hard on. You giggle. You’re also so fucking hot when you get territorial. It’s sickening, but I love it. His breath hitches.
“Oh, that was fast,” you cutely muse when his car rolls in by the valet. “Ready?”
“Y-yeah.”
As soon as you step foot inside the wide room, you jump onto him, lips clinging onto his neck, hands rushing through his hair frantically. I’m sorry for all I said. I love you, you’re my favorite driver, my number one. You’re-
“Oh,” you sigh as he kneels down in front of you, kissing your legs all the way from bottom to top, worshiping you until his head is beneath your dress, nose brushing against your panties. You shudder. He nips as you leap up in surprise. His teeth wrap around the thin material before sliding down and looking up at you like a dog.
“Go to the bed. On all fours. Your favorite number, isn’t that right?”
It’s a lame joke, but it still strikes you with shock as you carefully make your way over, following his clear instruction. And you think he’s going to fuck you, the way you were waiting for, but instead unzips his jeans and takes his boxers off, and stands in front of you. Open. “I thought we were-”
“Well you thought wrong, now open,” he grunts, hands grabbing your chin as he forces your mouth wide. Following along, you stick your tongue out eagerly. Like a dog. You should be ashamed, but can’t find the strength when he slips down your throat. You gag as he groans. “That's it, baby. Work your jaw f’me.”
Deepthroating him, you hum around his length as you take him all. He growls when your teeth graze his skin for a second, harshly pushing you back. “And you’re still being mean to me?” He tsks. “What did I do to you today for you to ignore me?”
Your brows arch. “I wasn’t ignoring you. You were ignoring me.” Fixing your dress, you climb off the bed, but not before he grabs your hand, dark eyes staring back at you. Where are you going? “Far away from you.” He fixes himself before marching after you. Just as the elevator is about to close, he manages to slip in. “I’m not talking to you,” you promise, arms crossed.
“Great.” The elevator comes to a halt. “Because this doesn’t require talking.”
Pushing you against the glass, he kisses you hungrily, greedy hands squeezing your ass as you squeal, attempting to push him off. This only makes him take a step back, rubbing his jaw. Seriously? You debate with yourself for a while before biting down on your lip and pulling him back towards you.
There’s no sound other than moans and groans as he fucks your against the elevator. The angle causes his tip to hit your g-spot at a mindblowing pace as your head rolls back with pleasure. He’s the first to break the silence as he places a hand next to your head and the other secure around your waist as he pounds into you, loopy eyes admiring the way your breasts bounce.
“I want you to know that despite my attitude, I’m happy for him, I am.” You don’t need to ask to know who he’s referring to as you hastily nod. I know, Charles. Leaning down to kiss him, you pout when he turns his head, leaving you to peck his jawline. “But you’re mine, all mine.” He sucks on your breasts that spill out in front of him as you whimper. “Repeat it back to me.”
“I’m all y-yours, you doofus,” you grin, tangled hair flying into your mouth as you squirm. “I didn’t even think I’d have to say it.” Squealing in shock, you hurry to grab the metal bar as he places you down and spins you around, leaving you mushed up against the tinted glass. “Oh shit.”
“Pretty view, no?” he quietly questions behind you, lustful eyes laser focused on the way you take him like no other. He grunts, head rolling back, messy hair following along. There’s no room to worry about the possibility that there could be a camera in the tiny space, or that help may be on the way despite the red button being pushed on purpose. And then he wraps his large hand around your throat and your breath hitches, tiny hole enveloping around him even harder. “S-so good, chérie.” He kisses you shoulder sloppily, mouth hanging a tad bit open as he tries to push back his fierce sense to come inside of you.
I think it’s stuck, a familiar voice clarifies from outside.
It is, you dimwit, another retorts as a group of mumbles follow with agreement.
“Oh shit,” Charles whispers as he rapidly pulls out of you, fixing you dress and hair to the best of his ability before focusing on his equally fucked out appearance. A soft wail escapes your lips at the sensitivity that remains in between your legs as Charles apologetically pecks your temple and the door finally slides open.
“Charles?” Pierre squeaks as soon as he spots his friend. “Holy shit, are you guys okay?”
“Completely fine!”
“It was so scary,” you add, shivering with theatrical fear to emphasize your words. “Thank God they were able to help us,” you say as you signal to the hotel staff members who stand by with a skeptical smile. “I don’t know what we would have done.”
“I have a theory,” Lando whispers to Carlos as they snicker, taking in your sweaty state. The way your zipper isn’t all the way up, showing off a bit of humid skin. The way the Mongasque keeps his hands adamantly in front of his hard on. It’d be stupid not to know what had been taking place prior seconds.
“Well thank God you guys are okay,” Pierre breathes, already making his way to hug you and the 26 year old. Kika grimaces while you two cringe at the fact that the Frenchman was getting a good look and feel of the forbidden afterglow. Patting his shoulder away awkwardly, Charles hums enthusiastically.
“It’s been quite an eventful day... Charles?”
Dark brows fly up before nodding hastily. “Yeah! We should go to sleep…Take care guys! Au revoir!”
Pierre smiles happily as he watches you two scurry away, Charles almost tripping as you grab onto his shoulder to level him up. “That’s actually really scary, I think I would cry if I were in their situation,” he admits, wide eyes blinking towards his friend group.
“Oh, honey,” Kika sighs, leaning up to pat her boyfriend's chest with empathy for his naiveness. What? Wouldn’t you?
Lando can’t help but let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands with amusement.
“Open up your eyes, Pierre. Those two totally fucked.”
taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings
*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!
Fernando Alonso x YoungerReader! Smut
HEAVY use of ‘daddy’, smut 18+, vaginal sex, oral sex (both receiving) fingering, squirting, anal play, choking, spanking, masturbation, everything ok. Reader is younger than Alonso (no age specified) who is friends with her dad, and the two engage in a secret, sexual relationship. Semi-public sex ensues and Nando fucks reader up against the door that people are trying to get in. Readers a massive tease and gets a kick from getting Fernando off in public.
It started when she’d followed Fernando around the corner, fixing his tie and collar for him when he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. Fernando didn’t know what to expect, he thought he’d massively overstepped a boundary, but little did he realise that y/n was going to kiss him back with twice as much need. He’d had his eye on the young girl on the past 6 months since the 2023 GP kicked off and he worked around her dad often. She was younger than him, it wasn’t anything inappropriate, but the positions they were both in wasn’t exactly a recipe for success. Fernando didn’t care, neither did y/n. For the first time in years Fernando felt excited, passionate, horny- he hadn’t felt so strongly towards a woman in as long as he could remember. The naughty texts he’d get from her, the images, the videos, he felt like his heart, body and soul was owned by her. He was uncontrollably infatuated with y/n and the younger woman felt the same towards him. She’d sit in the chair, smiling and sighing towards him like something out of a Hollywood film. Fernando felt desired, and when he smirked towards her, she felt the exact same way back.
In one particular, very boring meeting (that she was supposed to be listening to) she placed her index finger up to her lips, grazing over the soft area delicately. As she did, she noticed Fernando with eyes already focused on her. They were locked on her and only her. The way her finger that had been inside her only hours prior grazed over her lips. Fernando would die for them to be inside his own mouth, sucking off her sweet juices. He felt his cock jump from just thinking about it.
She bit down on her finger, offering him a smile before her eyes fell to the front of the room, sucking ever so slightly on the tip of her finger. Fernando adjusted himself, attempting to glimpse to what was occurring in the meeting, but he couldn’t turn away from her for any amount of time.
His head snapped back to see her crossing her legs, squeezing them together, the bare skin being so smooth and tanned. He imagined sinking his teeth into the flesh, spanking and then kissing over her thighs, hearing her squeal in a pained pleasure. His cock jumped again, this time there was so adjusting himself to make the issue less well- prominent. He could feel the way his cock was strangled by his pants, strained and aching against the confinements of his trousers.
Y/n’s eyes fell on the area that Fernando evidently tried to cover up. Offering him a sheepish smile, her heart fluttered as she proudly sat, knowing she could make him hard over barely anything. She writhed her legs together again, positive nobody else in the room would pick up on her subtly acts. She reached out, hand wrapping around her water bottle, grazing her hand down before taking a few sips, her lips gliding over her lips afterwards, picking up any stray drops of water. Fernando’s mind went back to the image of her licking his cum clean off his spilling cock, it dripped down her lips and chin deliciously as he exploded his seed inside her mouth.
Oh no. Fernando thought, feeling an uncomfortable stickiness gather against his pubic bone. He was leaking again thinking about her. For a moment he forgot he was a grown man. Slowly, Y/n slid up from her chair, Fernando and some of the other men’s eyes fell onto her ass as she made her way out of the room quietly, smiling innocently. Fernando gulped, wondering if that was an invitation for him to follow. His head snapped back and forth from her and then back to her father who was busy holding the meeting. He’d be busy for at least another two hours, thought Fernando. Gaining the confidence, the driver kept a hand over his crotch, excusing himself quietly before hurrying down the hall, the brush of his pants against his cock making him wince. He needed to be free, and fast. He pulled out his phone desperate to hear from her, only his eyes popped out of his head seeing the video she’d sent him only a minute prior.
Fernando eyed up the empty hall, turning down his volume to a low setting before playing the video and seeing it was her, sat on a couch of a small meeting room, pants off and fingers rubbing over her clothed clit. Fernando could faintly hear her soft pants, and had to stabilise himself from fainting at the pure bliss of receiving such a video.
Y/n: hurry the door is unlocked I’m in the same one from yesterday
Fernando’s body moved faster than his legs could take him and he was overwhelmingly quick to reach the room. He had to take a breath to compose himself, entering the room with a hitched jaw seeing her sat, legs pressed together under a blanket and a shy look covering her face. Thank God it was Fernando, she thought, and not some other person who accidentally stumbled into the room.
Fernando completely forgot to the lock the door, not that that would matter straight away, but he quite literally was gobsmacked when the blanket fell and she spread her legs, pushing her hand down over the lace of her pants, sighing as she rubbed over her aching pussy.
How Fernando didn’t cum there and then in his pants he’d never know. He looked so good, she thought, her head tilting back and to the side with a soft sigh of his name. His black polo tucked into his black pants, arms bulging out at the bicep, similar to how his cock pressed at the seams of his pants.
With the moan of his name, Fernando fell to his knees, a gentle smile tugging on his lips as he reached out, taking a hold of either outside of her legs, rubbing down the soft skin. “La mejor sorpresa.” (The best surprise) he hushed, pressing a longing yet tender kiss to the sensitive of her flesh. Y/n exhaled gently, continuing to rub gently, hips gyrating up and down ever so slightly. She was captivated with his Spanish words, the glisten in his hazel eyes. Her movements were relaxed with a second kiss to her inner thigh.
“My love.” He hushed in his husky voice, resting his cheek and temple to her legs as he gazed up to her. The moment was gentle, yet overwhelmingly sensual. His eyes trailed down to where she pleasured herself and he unconsciously pressed his crotch harder against the edge of the couch.
Y/n let out a soft hum, a slight plea for him to touch her. He slid his hands forwards, taking her underwear by the waistband and slowly pulling them off, tossing them to one side. “Necesito este coño.” (I need this pussy) he hushed, kissing her pussy lips gently. “Te necesito.” (I need you) Fernando whispered again, spreading her lips a little further and licking a stripe up between her folds. His tongue was hot and wet, flicking over her clit which sent a sigh of relief to leave her lips.
“What’re you saying, Nando?” Her voice broke on an inhale when he wrapped his lips around her pussy, sucking gently, her hips lolling forwards. “How much I need you and this pussy.” The Spaniard rasped against her, lips moving against her skin as she spoke. She was sticky from wetness, Fernando wanted to lick it clean. He imagined how badly she was squirming in her underwear at the meeting, her thongs dripping with her juices.
“Mh, you’re all I can think about.” She airily spoke. In response, Fernando ate her out, gently, but steadily. Her hand came up, swiping her hair out of her face like she was in a movie, Fernand’s eyes glued to her. “Fuck… yes.” She exhaled out in response, fingers stroking through his dark strands of hair. Fernando wanted to feel the tug of her fingers against his scalp, the scratch of his nails down the tattoo on his back.
Fernando flattened his tongue, swiping all over her pussy, letting out a grunt in appreciation as he hooked her thigh over his shoulders, delving deeper. The sound of her moan cracking had him going crazy, he slurped and sighed against her drenched core, spitting and adding a finger to the mix. Her sounds were pure bliss, she gasped and begged for more, fingering at his hair, his shirt which had pulled loose from his pants.
“Fernando… fuck, Nando, Nando, Nando.” She wept out his name like a mantra, still remaining relatively quiet. Fernando didn’t want quiet, he knew this area of the hotel would remain virtually empty, he wanted her screaming, cock hungry for more of him. After one particular sharp pull on his hair, Fernando let out a moan, eyes rolling back and voice vibrating against her aching pussy, he pulled back and bit firmly into the flesh of her thigh.
“Please.” Her hips bucked, and she yanked him by the hair back into her vagina. Fernando felt the ache of his cock now, painful in his pants, he thrusted slightly against the couch, rubbing the his cock up and down against the plush material.
Fernando brought his fingers up, pushing one into her hole with no warning. “Fuck!” She squealed, hand snatching the couch, nails digging into the material as he pushed the digit in and out of her. “Oh my god!” She moaned in a pornographic manner. Fernando smirked, this is exactly what he wanted from the younger woman.
Her hips were jumping so Nando pushed a hand against her hip bone, pinning her into the couch whilst finger fucking her with his other hand. Y/n felt the sensitive fuck of his digits against her g-spot and knew she wouldn’t last long. He sucked and licked like a desperate man against her pussy, hand moving up to pin at her throat as her moans became distorted through the lack of air.
The familiar tightness built and the squelch of her wet pussy was soon replaced with a gushing as she came undone, both with her orgasm and squirting all over Fernando’s hand. He growled, continuing to finger her over the edge as she screamed out, unable to take anymore. Anybody listening in would think there was an exorcism taking place. “Fernando, please!” She begged as he removed his finger, lapping up her spilt juices, hands moving down to unbuckle his belt desperately. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” She choked out, tormented by the over simulation. Fernando quickly freed his cock, wiping the back of his arm against his chin and mouth before moving down to kiss her with an undeniable want. “Let me fuck you.” He grunted, jerking his hand back and fourth over his cock that had been deprived for so long.
“You don’t want to fuck my mouth first?” She giggled, Fernando paused, panting harshly before kissing her firmly again. “Please, please, I want your cock in my mouth.”
“You want that?” Fernando grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him. Y/n grinned through her excitement, the pain of his fistful around her hair making her pussy throb all over again.
“I want it so bad, Fernando.” He kissed her once, twice again, before pushing her down to her knees where she gagged herself on his erection, stuffing her mouth as full as she could have his large cock. Fernando immediately let out an animalistic groan at her hot mouth around his aching member. Her mouth felt so good, too good, almost as good as her tight little pussy.
She moaned around his length, gazing up through those pretty eyelashes as Fernando stared at the youthful woman. From this angle he could see to her breasts down her top, the swell of them in her bra, pushed together, he wanted to spill his seed all over them. Fernando’s mouth was open, face was red and he began sweating with eyebrows knitted together as Y/n watched him, sucking up and down on him.
Her cheeks hollowed out, she drooled down his cock, taking a handful of his balls, delighted to hear the many moans, pants and grunts that Fernando unleashed. She teased, running her wet tongue all down the base of his cock and over his head, over his balls, going excruciatingly slow, “why don’t you take charge, you know I like it when you are.” She giggled, sucking his tip lightly. Fernando’s voice cracked as his head fell back in pure bliss.
“Are you sure?”
“Please… please daddy.” She hushed out the next words and Fernando felt so filthy- in the best way. “Say it again.” He snatched at her jaw, “daddy.” The pet name caused him to pop a gentle smack over her cheek, one that made her grin before he yanked her chin open and began thrusting into her mouth. “Ah- shit- ah mierda!” He cursed in both English and his native tongue, hips jittering when he felt her take him all the way down her throat. Y/n’s nose was pressed to Alonso’s freshly trimmed pubic bone, she gagged slightly and Fernando pulled off with another loud groan.
“Are you ok?” He held her face, seeing the tears formed in her eyes from choking on his cock. “So good.” She confirmed as he smiled, lifting her up to her wobbly feet.
“You know you are good at that.” The man flirted, beginning to unbutton at her blouse, ripping it off before moving to her bra. “I know.” She teased with a giggle, the two of them sharing another kiss. “Where do you want me? Bent over?” She moved up and around to his ear, standing on her toes to kiss at his neck, jaw and earlobe.
“Yes.” Fernando breathed, tossing her bra to one side before taking a handful of the swell of her perfect breasts. “You can have me however you want.” She whispered, sending shudders down his back, the two of them sharing another heated, open mouthed kiss before she pulled at his shirt, freeing him and exposing his bare, toned abdomen.
Fernando twisted her by the hips, her body completely nude for him as he planted a spank to her ass- not too hard, he didn’t want to hurt her. “Harder.” She moaned in response when his palm caught her ass a little harder. Alonso moved down, licking a swipe all the way from her pussy to her asshole, delving in the area once again. It was irresistible, she was irresistible, and when his cock squelched inside the wetness of her tight little hole, Fernando thought he’d faint.
“Oh, Fernando!” She whined, petite frame pushed over the back of the couch as she arched her back, he continued fucking into her, sending a few slaps over her ass and thighs in the process. “Daddy, please.” She begged, reaching back. Fernando grunted, snatching her hair and pulling her back as he leaned forwards, catching a kiss to her forehead as she panted, breathless from the sex.
Fernando’s hand palmed at the flesh he’d slapped, smoothing the area and relaxing his hold in her head to hold under her chin, his lips pressed to the top of her head tilted back.
“Eres mi buena chica, ¿no? Qué buena chica sucia, rebotando así en mi polla.” (You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Such a good, dirty girl bouncing on my cock like that).That’s when the Spanish dirty talk happened and Y/n thought she’d pass out from pure ecstasy. “Yes, yes, yes.” She let out a low whine as Fernando knelt on the couch, resting his arms on the back, besides her body. His face was close to hers now as he bucked into her slowly.
“Yes?” He laughed. “You know what I’m saying?” Fernando grinned, kissing her cheek and pressing a second kiss to her lips as she giggled breathlessly.
“No, but I can guess.” She hummed. “I bet you can.” He panted in response, pulling her up my both her arms and continuing the same brutal pace as earlier. Her cries and whines continued as Nando breathed heavily, grunting through the building pleasure he felt. Her pussy was the tightest he’d felt, so warm and wet, he fit inside perfectly. He was meant for her.
As the two were evidently occupied, they didn’t hear the footsteps gaining towards the door- and no it wasn’t Y/n’s father- thank god. But instead, the handle jiggled, a businessman from the meeting looking for the bathroom. Fernando reacted quick, slamming his hand against the door and locking it. Y/n laughed, turning over her shoulder in surprise. Fernando let out a breath of relief before smiling towards her and gesturing her over. “Fuck, Nando, did you not lock the door?” She brushed her hair out of her face. The man simply shrugged with a sheepish smile and she playfully nudged him.
He reached down, grabbing her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her back to the cold door in which people were trying to get into. “Fernando! It’s cold!” “Shhh.” He teased, slipping easily back inside her dripping pussy. Her mouth opened and eyes glazed over again, this time, Fernando couldn’t stop staring at her beauty. His lips made his way to hers and their sounds were muffled by the kisses and the hitting of her back against the door. “Fuck!” As their love making continued they became careless, loud again, the door was rattling and Fernando began drilling into the girl who clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into her back.
“Nando!” She wept, her body tensing, coil tightening in her abdomen. “Not my name.” The sweating man grunted as she moaned out again. “Daddy.” She cried out instead which only spurred him further. One arm wrapped around her lower hips, whilst the other pulled down on her shoulder, stuffing his cock as deep inside of her pussy as possible.
“Gonna cum- fuck! I want you to come too.” She gasped, leaving a particularly harsh scratch in his back. Nando growled before pulling her hair to one side, his fist shaking as he chased his orgasm.
“Please, please, please!” She pleaded, fingers rubbing against her clit as she bounced aimlessly with every thrust. “Yes.” Fernando choked out. “Yes, yes, cum for me- I’m gonna- Mierda- I’m cumming.” His jaw tensed as he let out an animalistic groan of pure bliss through his teeth before he was thrown over the edge, her orgasm approaching soon after.
Their sighs of relief mixed with yells and groans of pleasure settled down, and feeling the drip of his cum from her pussy, Fernando let out a small sound, moving her gently and laying her down on the couch. “Mh-” before he could move she held onto his arm, the man chose to settle down besides her, kissing her tenderly and plugging a finger inside the hole he’d just filled with his cum.
“You did good.” He whispered, leaving a longing kiss to her temple, and another on her lips. “Nando.” She innocently whispered, fingers trailing through his hair. He glanced down, inspecting her leaking pussy as he pushed his finger in gently. Y/n whined slightly but Nando soothed her with gentle shushes.
“I bet your dad doesn’t know what kind of a bad girl you are.” He muttered as she giggled, swatting his arm slightly. Fernando rested on his side, admiring her beauty with a hand under his head, elbow prompted onto the couch. He felt bad for whoever had to sit here after.
“My good girl.” He then smiled as they shared another kiss. He brought his finger up, to her lips and she stuck her tongue out, sucking him clean. Fernando could have sworn he was ready for round two immediately, entranced by how sensual and purely beautiful Y/n was.
No such thing as i can’t || J.B. S.V
Rb Sebastian Vettel x young reader x jenson button
Warnings— smut, overstimulation, oral, soft dom/sub, age gap
Summary: your boyfriend’s prove to you, that you can take everything they give you.
Your body spased from the over sensitivity from having four orgasms in the last two hours, your boyfriends looked at your withering body in awe.
You their beautiful little girl looked breathtaking, body shaking, hair a mess, layer of sweat glistening your fair skin. It was their favourite view.
“oh my sweet, sweet girl. You don’t think we are finished do you? You still have six left” Jensen whispered in your ear softly before gently sucking your ear lope making your pussy clench.
They touched your body like it is one of the most precious thing on earth, normally you would have hard core sex and the boys could never help themselves.
But you have been away from the boys for a week cause you went and visit family while they stayed at home cause of meetings. They hated being away from you, the one week felt like it has been like twenty.
It was hell for them cause they didn’t have you, their sweet little angel with them.
As soon as you walked through that door they pounced on you. Smothering you in love and Immediately taking you straight to bed, and you haven’t left since.
At the start they made you choose a number and you chose ten as it was your lucky number, now here they were committed to get you to cum to ten.
“ n-no to s-sensitive” you panted after they drawed the fifth one out of you.
Seb pouted at you, “ oh sweet darling you can, I know you can” he stated pulling your legs over his shoulders so his face is near your core, you whimpered feeling his hot breath fan over your over sensitive clit.
You tried to wiggle away but he firmly had your legs in his grip while jenson had you pinned to his chest, “ cmon baby girl, you can do it, you wanna be our good girl don’t you?” He cooed in your ear, kissing and sucking your neck to his content. Leaving marks over the delicate skin.
“ y-yes wanna be your g-good girl” you babbled, Sebastian smirked and immediately latched his mouth on you.
You choked out a moan, he was so skilled with his tongue sucking on your clit softly but firmly at the same time.
“Oh you look so pretty like this baby” jenson told you, his fingers twisting your nipples making you hiss, “ ah!” You moaned.
You felt like you were going to pass out now as you had one more to go, after cumming for the nineth time on Sebastian’s cock while jenson whispered praises in your ear.
“ lucky last one little one, you doing so good” Sebastian said giving your forehead a soft kiss, he slides behind you holding your twitching body in his arms to hold you still.
“ want you to cum on my tongue little angel, can you do that?” Jenson asked you yet your Brain was like mush, you couldn’t think or speak.
“ oh looks like we have a dumb little angel on our hands seb” jenson mockingly said making Sebastian laugh, “ our dumb little angel”.
Jenson eat you out like he was starving, shaking his head side to side making you scream.
The pleasure was so intense that your eye sight went black and your mouth let out a silent scream tears streaming down your flushed face.
Sebastian felt you relax in his arms and saw that you passed out, “ see no such thing as I can’t” he whispered to your unconscious body while jenson got up his face glistening.
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.
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