Mclaren Drivers Dynamic Feels Like

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."

Kimi Raikkonen x reader

Tagged— @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @norrisleclercf1 @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @alwayzbeenale @badassturtle13 @reidsworld @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @ironcowboycopnickel @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hollie911 @laneyspaulding19 @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @otako5811 @omgsuperstarg @purplephantomwolf @bblouifford @vellicora @venusisnothere

Kimi needed a haircut no he wanted a haircut sure he loved having it longer and shaggier but he was out growing it and he needed to change it. He sat there in a chair with a closed fist trying not to shiver. You were the only one who he trusted to cut his hair. The closeness of your body to him made his heart race. The way you ran your fingers through his hair, your breath tickling the back of his neck. He was a goner. He was in love with you, his best friend.

Your scissors cut through the hair on one side, your breath warm on his skin making him shiver. Kimi tried to keep still even though that was all he wanted to do was move. Not out of fear but because the closeness of your body against his was driving him mad with desire.

Your fingers gently turned his head to get another side. Your lips lightly brushing his ear. As you worked your way around making his hair shorter the closeness and intimacy of the moment was making him squirm. Your hand on the back of his neck holding him in place making his muscles taunt.

A warm shiver ran through his body from his neck down his back. You cut away a fist full of hair. You brought your body even tighter to his and moved in and out of the front of his neck to get the hair near his face. Kimi was struggling with the control he had on his body and his breathing was becoming rapid. He wanted to move so badly but he had to stay still or you might cut his ear.

Your fingers ran through the back of his hair. His body was on fire he could feel every inch of your body on his he craved your touch. Your breath on his neck was driving him wild with the warmth of your body against his turning him on to an immeasurable degree.

Your hands moved around the back of his head as you cut and then ran your fingers down his neck back and up behind his ears making Kimi feel like he was being stroked on an intimate part of his body. Every feeling was so intense even the slightest touch by your hands had him moving his body, but he struggled to control it because you were so close to his neck and his heart was pounding so hard he was trembling with the desire to be touched by you.

“They're all done,” you said, settling the scissors down.

Your hands moved around the back of his head as you cut and then ran your fingers down his neck back and up behind his ears making Kimi feel like he was being stroked on an intimate part of his body. Every feeling was so intense even the slightest touch by your hands had him moving his body, but he struggled to control it because you were so close to his neck and his heart was pounding so hard he was trembling with the desire to be touched by you.

He looked back into your eyes. You looked at him smiling but he could see a hint of a blush on your cheeks. You were thinking about what had just happened, the closeness and intimacy, were you feeling what he was feeling. He couldn’t get enough. You moved yourself closer and he tilted his head forward a little to rest it on your chest. He didn’t have words for how he felt he just trusted you and was feeling vulnerable and scared at the same time.

The heat from your body pressed into him was so powerful he felt it throughout his entire body. He closed his eyes because he was so overwhelmed from his feelings and desires. He opened them and just looked at you hoping you’d hold him because right now he had zero control over his body. He was a mess and just wanted to feel your body against his and your heart warming him.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close into your body, your heart beating fast in your chest. Kimi melted into your arms. The warmth and closeness was intense; you could feel his heart pounding against yours and you were so sure he felt you too. He looked at you softly and closed his eyes as you stroked his hair. He felt safe and content for the first time in a long time and wanted to stay in that moment forever.

mark webber 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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w/ john f. kennedy 18+ sexually explicit content

jack waking you up in the early hours of the morning, four maybe five am; you can feel him before you hear him, tossing in the sheets beside you, turning from that troublesome back of his to his side and then back again, seemingly adjusting and readjusting, more than few times over. you’re not nearly awake enough to care, your body simply takes notice of the divot changes in the bed - with distant awareness, your eyes remain peacefully shut.

eventually he lets out a huff, succumbing to his ache and turning over to your side, his bare body heat entering your space and radiating onto you; as he leans in, heavy and intensely warm is his breath on the hair which curtains your ear. his voice is gritty and sleep ridden, above a whisper and dripping his brahmin accent, “roll on your stomach for me.”

it takes a few fleeting seconds for the words to even register, barely conscious enough to give a hum of acknowledgement even as you oblige; messily moving and twisting in the linens to be on your frontside, stomach and chest meet the plush mattress below. with his eyes holding only a squint in the low - almost no - light room, his large hand surfs easily through all your maneuvering, finding the small of your silk nightgown covered back and following its soft seams to your equally as satiny thighs, guiding your leg to a 90 degree angle, far enough away from your other for him to fit right inbetween them.

the chill from the duvet falling away and off your body sparks your mind to awaken the tiniest bit more, as it now only comforts from your calves and below, a result of jack settling himself on his knees in the middle of your spread; keeping one hand roaming and kneading at your skin as the other sleepily fumbles to pull himself out of his boxers.

his hard-on pulses and springs out of its cotton cage immediately, its sensitivity already on high, causing him to groan in a low octave as he palms and massages the leaking pre-cum around his tip a few times as a lubricant. steadily gaining consciousness, you peer over your shoulder at him, through hooded lids; the sight of him looming large, with tousled hair and no shirt, his hand to his cock and his sleepy contorting-in-need face cause your anticipation to present in an ever so slight arching back to give him better access, and the rush of arousal liquidating in your center.

he slides your negligée up in a smooth motion, exposing all of your glory for his taking. the soft heat of his hand cupping your hip bone is a small, polite comfort, an action he does it with intent - to hold you still, to hold you close, to feel you.

your head has fallen back to the pillow and eyes have closed once again as he aligns himself with your opening; he can’t even bring himself to tease you and your rim, as he usually does, he’s much too tired, with too much of a craving to even consider playing a game. he enters slowly, his cockhead savoring your all encompassing, sleep-hot tightness. it fills your slick center fully, in deliberation, one long drawn out stroke inside that causes an involuntary soft toned-yet complete sighing moan to fall from your lips.

upon entrance, he gives another rumbling base-of-the-throat groan, with a mumble through gritted teeth, “god, that’s it…”

he’s now put both hands on each of your naked and open hips, gripping with pressure that would typically cause you to squirm, but in this moment, is the second most pleasurable sensation being inflicted upon you. he guides your hips, instead of thrusting his own - a testament to his laziness, regardless of how good he makes you feel - extending and conducting them upward, until he’s just a new centimeters from falling completely out of you.

there’s a second of pause; just a beat too long of him holding out, and as you’ve got the taste for him now, there’s a flash idea of simply pushing yourself back on him, but before you can even think it all the way through, he drags you back down, with more vigor than that first, sweet stroke.

you yelp, the squelch of his intense re-entering and hitting of your spot just perfectly fills the silent night with a pornographic mist; his breath is shaky and heavy, and though your eyes remain closed and shielded by a mix of hair and cotton from the pillow your face is buried in, you already know he has the most salacious, magnificent, strung out look on his face; knitted scrunched brows, squinting eyes, jaw slack in bliss. jack kennedy is a beautiful man, but never is he more beautiful than when he’s seven and a half inches deep inside you.

his hunger seems to overtake any exhaustion he may be experiencing, as he suddenly, almost rudely, quickens the speed at which he moves you; his fingertips burn into your skin, delightfully possessive, grasping the velvety flesh of your ass. the sensation of his relentless in and out is scorching and so filling you can’t possibly contain the noise that escapes through your mouth and nose; it’s exactly how he likes it, and if you didn’t already know it, his gnashing “c’mon, let me hear you,” is confirmation enough.

“jack,” you sigh out, your forehead digging into the memory foam as your writhe in his hedonism; as he brings you down for a particularly hard and godlike blow, striking your walls to make you see stars, your hand flies from clenching the fitted sheet below you to his hand, which remains firmly planted on your hip. your palm smacks his knuckles and in the same motion, your thumb hooks under his pointer finger, which only just gives way for you; it’s such a small, seemingly insignificant, act of intimacy, but somehow bridges a gap between you both.

“i know,” he answers, panting and moaning - but he doesn’t actually, because truthfully, you don’t know either. saying his name just feels right.

as you tighten the hold of his hand, and he never once falters, you for some reason have the inappropriately timed thought of all the hands that have shook this one - from the greatest political figures of the time to the average american citizen, they’ve all touched it, cradled it, savored it - and yet, none know of it’s perversion and dirtiness, that you are the one to ultimately own it. it’s this hand that shall mark your body time and time again, completely yours.

your hips begin to move on their own, circling as he heaves them up and down, making sure his tip to shaft reaches every bit of you. his head falls back, now in true heaven, and just as you feel yourself reaching a head, he pants out, “baby…”

baby, a name you only ever hear right as he’s about to cum, indicates to keep going as you’ve been - the pace he’s chosen works in perfect harmony with your grinding, “please, jack.”

everything within yourself suddenly pulls to your center and pushes downward as you reach your climax, unapologetic about the obscene sound pouring from you; the knot in at the bottom of your stomach unravels as a rush of pleasure runs up your back and throughout the whole of your body. jack follows immediately after, bucking up into you with fervor, pulsing and twitching inside you while releasing angelic whimpers only you get to hear.

you both remain still for a passing moment, catching your breaths and reveling in the practical porn you just partook in. jack removes himself from you after less than a minute, nothing short of typical for him; you hiss at the feeling, going from full to barren allows the cold to take jack’s place within you. he takes another second-long pause before reaching down and tenderly kissing where his hands have no doubt bruised you - each side of your body gets a drawn out pressing of his lips, nothing short of atypical for him.

he mumbles something that sounds distantly like an i love you, before climbing off the bed entirely, and shuffling to the en-suite bathroom of your shared bedroom. not long after the light has flickered on and the bathroom door has been pushed but not closed entirely, you hear the shower head spurt on and the curtain draw; jack begins his day, leaving you to the tranquility of bed, as he continues to spill out from you in a stream while returning to sleep.

lacy says. hiiiii

bestie please I just thought of this, you and RBR Sebastian fucking on the villa of summer break and Mark calls you and he makes you pick up the phone and literally you are trying to not to moan in the phone

babe you are a whore. I love it. 

The sun was warm on your stomach and chest, the curtains blowing with the wind because Sebastian left the windows opened this morning. 

It was barely lunch time and Sebastian was insatiable. 

You had joined him for the two last races prior to summer break but one weekend was 80% press and 20% racing and the other was so hot, no one could function properly that he couldn’t and didn’t have the energy to fuck you. 

Sebastian made sure to whisk you off to some island, just the two of you - no one to bother you and most importantly, he could fuck you anywhere and anytime he wanted. 

Currently, he's got your legs wrapped around his hips and he’s fucking you full - literally, thanks to pillow under your hips. 

The phone rings - the sound blaring catches you both off guard. You were so sure it was his phone, some Red Bull official wanting to take your boyfriend away from you but imagine your surprise when it’s your phone ringing. 

Not only was it your phone but it was none other than your boyfriend’s teammate, Mark Webber. 

“Answer it,” Sebastian tells you, handing you the phone. You shook your head, “no, Seb - no, please.” 

Too late, Sebastian has already clicked accept and handed it back to you. 

“H-hi Mark,” you try to get out as normal as possible. Mark was none the wiser, asking you how your break was going. 

Sebastian pulls your leg over his shoulder but he’s yet to move. “It’s going good, how is- fuck!” you bite your lower lip to stop anything coming out of your mouth when Sebastian pushes into you all the way. 

“You alright sweetheart ?” Mark asks - Sebastian hated when Mark called you that; the nickname given to you out of adoration, his teammate telling you that you’re much too sweet to be dating Seb. 

“Mhm hm,” you breathe, looking up at Seb, your eyes pleading with him to stop. He gives in, pulling your other leg over his free shoulder in the meantime. 

Sebastian reaches down, his fingers trailing along the back of your thigh. “What are you and-” “Sebastian!” The name slips past your lips, airy and out of breath as it does, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Oh,” Mark chuckles awkwardly. “Uh- just call me when you’re not busy, sweets.” 

“Mhm bye Mark,” you toss the phone somewhere, not even caring where it landed. “God,” your hand pushed on his chest, “I hate you.” 

“I love you, sweetheart.” Sebastian grins. 

Like a fucking dream i’m living in

jake peralta turns into a thief for you.

Perv!peralta x reader. When Jake and reader temporarily live together, reader’s things suddenly begin to go missing. Mdni; 18+

you first noticed the lingering glances.

you tried your best to avoid peralta in the late night, walking on tip-toes and staying confined in your room for as long as you could bear. You had already done him a huge favour by inviting him to live in your apartment while he searched for his own, so you figured it was best to keep things at least somewhat professional.

Still, the apartment wasn’t that big (it was New York, after all), and despite your best efforts, you encountered him more than you would’ve liked.

You’d often catch him in the kitchen late at night, pouring himself a glass of water while you awkwardly approached to grab a quick snack. The interaction is silent, and yet you were always uncomfortably alert. You didn’t need to look over at him to feel his gaze falling down your body, his gaze focusing primarily on the mound of your chest peeking through the thin pyjamas.

you took note of his loose grey sweats and the casual white tee he wore so well, but you were careful to not show your interest— even if he was obvious with his. The interaction would end almost as quickly as it started when he’d awkwardly raise a hand in greeting before retreating back to his guest room.

then, it was the persistant touching.

You’d be struggling to grab a cookbook perched on the top shelf of the cabinet, and before you could even ask for help, Jake is behind you, lowering the book with a soft hand on the small of your waist. “Thanks,” you’d mutter, eyes fluttering all over his face, and he’d say nothing except flash you a crooked grin.

Once, you were heading out for drinks and right before you could reach the door, he called your name with a tone of rushed urgency.

“wait, uh, you got a little…” he pointed to the corner of his own lips.

You quickly reached up to wipe away whatever was on your face, but after multiple attempts, he insisted it was still there, and so he walked over and slyly swiped it away with his hand. The pad of his thumb stayed on your lips longer than necessary, his eyes on yours longer than needed, and when he finally pulled away, you swear his fingers were squeaky clean.

your last straw was when your things began to disappear.

They were small things at first— the pen you used for all your police paperwork, the bowl you used every evening for dinner. Then, the casual robbery escalated to your bedroom.

The lace bra you wore on special occasions, the skimpy pair of panties you had hidden away deep in your drawer. There could only be one culprit, you knew that, and yet, you didn’t feel a need to confront him.

Instead, you began to wear the bra you normally wouldn’t wear on a random Tuesday, making sure the delicate lace trim was visible through your low-cut tank top. You reciprocated the endless touching; a light touch on his bicep as you laughed at his joke, or a press of your ass against him as you reached for a spatula.

You were more on edge than you had ever been, but there was always a delicious thrill that ran down your spine the second you both came home to resume the unspoken game.

You had almost forgotten about everything tonight, coming back late from a meeting that had drained the energy out of you. But on your way to your room, you couldn’t help but take an extra step towards the guest room. A sliver of dim light was visible through his half-closed door, and while you couldn’t see him, you heard him.

You hadn’t gotten any for longer than you’d like to admit, but you were still able to recognize the sounds of sex, all sloppy and dirty and wild. Except there was only one voice, one tone in the string of moans that escaped through the cracks and into your perked ears.

“Uh- fu- fuck, yeah, just like that.”

You remained frozen in shock for just a moment, staring at the door, then, through a sudden burst of adrenaline, you shifted your head until Jake finally came into view.

He was sat on the edge of the guest bed you had meticulously made that very morning, except now the sheets were wrinkled and undoubtedly covered in his sweat. Jake’s head was thrown back in a fit of indulgence, his eyes squinted closed as if the pleasure was painful to even think about. Your quiet breaths hitched as your eyes trailed down his open button-up, soft abs decorating his torso.

Then, you saw it. A pair of pink panties, your panties, scrunched up in his left hand as his right pumped up and down his length. Rather than feeling disgusted or relieved that you had finally caught the thief using your expert detective skills, something much more dangerous was growing in the pit of your stomach.

You found your breaths linking up with his as they got more frantic, more hungry for a release that could never be matched to that of his imagination. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as he vocalized his thoughts, muttering your name as he pleaded, “please, just give it to me,” and “show me how much you want me, baby.”

You almost gasped when he loudly groaned one last time, his whole body shaking stiffly as he came, short spurts of white falling where your panties were now wrapped around his cock. You were carefully observing the way the aftershocks came over his body— heaving breathing, faltering hands, when suddenly, he turns his head.

He looks directly at you, and for a moment, panic flashes over his eyes as if he’s waiting for you to yell, to scream, to burst into the room and ask him what the hell he’s doing. But you don’t do that, and soon, any signs of anxiety dissipates from his eyes. There was only desire in his gaze, a heat that was dark and brewing and matched the one between your legs, begging to spill over.

As a corner of his lip lifted up casually, yours did too, and you knew, if you didn’t make the first move now, he was about to.

-

A/n: officially on winter break from school so I’m locking in on this acc (I’m lying.)

i'm giving myself an emoji by the way hehe it's 🦢

also girl you hooked us on jenson and little leclerc & seb and little leclerc i fear paddock bunnies will have meltdown after meltdown at this rate...

also i just read the previous asks and yikes 😐 it's not a kink it's disgusting i hope they were joking but i have a feeling they weren't...

🦢

hi 🦢 anon!! 💖💖💖💖

imagine being in that dilf wdc sandwich 😩😩 little leclerc would be worshipped every day and night. literally the most spoilt rotten little princess when it comes to these two 😩 they're literally coaching the bratiness out of her methinks, just that unreasonable side from her because she's incredibly composed and understanding all the time, just kinda teasing too.

the paddock bunnies would be pissed from their displays of affection. cause you know once they're grouped together or left somewhere (as a collective or even by pair) they're unable to keep their hands off her so their presence are mostly ignored 😩😩

just going all, "sit on my lap baby" and kissing her shoulder, and kissing her on that certain spot on her eyes (love mark kinda)

they don't gaf so they're making everybody else just seethe in jealousy, just squinting at them sweet talking and whispering some kinda incantations (so they think, because hey, sorcery must be the answer)

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."