⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 (kr7) 𝐱𝐨 ୧˚

GEORGE RUSSELL P2 | 2022 DUTCH GP © Steven Tee

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

summary: dilf!mick really wants more…

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

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

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

💌re:moony’s planner is opened!!!

broody.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his wife shifted in her seat once more. 

yeah. he really was brooding. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝗕𝗢𝗠𝗕𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗔𝗨 ᥫ᭡ 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗜𝗗

˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗ Spencer thinks you’re a total bombshell —confident, high maintenance, and so, so pretty. you find yourself similarly obsessed with your dorky, handsome genius.

you meet Spencer and call him beautiful you witness Spencer and Lila Archer you make Spencer jealous you hold Spencer’s hand after his abduction you come for a teasing visit your drunken flirting almost kills him you invite a struggling Spencer over for dinner your motorcycle jacket winds Spencer you and Spencer share a room in Alaska Spencer comforts you after a hard case Spencer gets his boyband haircut Spencer stands you up you take Spencer’s hand when he’s distracted you comfort Spencer on the brink of tears you’re jealous of Spencer and a girl at the bar Spencer reassures you that he likes your flirting Spencer loses his mind over your dress it’s Spencer’s fault when you get hurt Spencer tends to a bad wound you assure Spencer he’s your type you’re hurt by a rude police officer Spencer realises you really truly like him Spencer tortures you, for once don’t think I don’t like you you and Spencer have your first kiss Spencer calms you down when you’re nervous you and Spencer miss you first date Spencer sees you undone for the first time you freak out after being held hostage you’re obsessed with Spencer and his glasses Spencer takes care of you when you’re sick Derek catches you at Spencer’s apartment Spencer calls you a pet name for the first time you and Spencer are interrupted good luck Emily catches you and Spencer in a heated kiss you drunk brag about your new boyfriend you’re secure in your relationship you get your period Spencer likes that you’re high maintenance you get very hurt in the field Spencer watches over your recovery you have your first big fight, you can’t sleep Spencer allots time for your morning kisses you take the leap and ask the big question Spencer returns from prison Spencer struggles to adjust after prison you and Spencer talk about JJ

you comfort Spencer after Maeve

you find out that you’re pregnant together you show Spencer your new necklace you tell the team that you’re pregnant Hotch gives Spencer some paternal advice pregnant!you feel like you’re not yourself you have an angry hormonal meltdown pregnant!you falls down Hotch checks in on pregnant!you and Spencer your daughter is just like you, Spencer loves it Amy video calls you on a case Spencer is wrapped around Amy’s little finger Spencer and Amy take care of sick!you you and Amy visit Spencer in prison

divine figures — luke castellan + reader : nothing could steer luke off his path to god now, until you came along. 

tags : southern setting au, small town setting, loser!luke, idolization, christian religious references & imagery, religious inconsistencies, church sex, religious guilt, body worship, sex but poetic, cannibalistic imagery…………..

a/n : heavily inspired by the lovely @murdrdocs!! 

luke castellan was never one to follow a religion, well, not at first he wasn’t. he thought it was all bullshit, to put your all into someone nobody is sure even exists, it’s bullshit. but then his mom began insisting that he went, that he needed to find god, they both did, so he went.   

luke lacked a father figure, so when he stared up at the statue perched at the apse of the church, he found the man he always lacked in his life, no matter how much the statue ignored his gaze, never bothering to look his way. he was quick to read the bible like it was a drug he just couldn’t get enough of, he sat straight with his eyes forward during each sermon, he kept himself pure. 

and he stuck true to that, until you came. 

he never really noticed you at first, but you were always there. 

always looking over your shoulder to his place in the pew, always smiling at him when he accidentally glances your way, always passing by his house on your bike on hot summer days in hopes of seeing him outside, shirtless and working on his mother’s car. 

you hadn’t mustered up the proper courage to speak to him, not until your parents have tugged you over to where he stood with his mother in the nave. your mother and father immediately sparked up conversation with his mother, leaving you to awkwardly look around the church in hopes of finding something worthy of speaking of. nothing, there was nothing. so you just mumbled out a, “hey.” 

he hesitates for a second, “hi.” 

“did you like the sermon?” your southern drawl, along with your sugar coated smile, luke can feel the thumping of his heart against his knit sweater. 

“‘course,” he smiles shyly, “i always do— um.. did you?” 

you nod at him, your ability to hold eye contact so well had him feeling nervous, constantly breaking it to glance around the room, “are you excited for easter?”

luke’s lips curve to a brighter smile, one that proves that he hopes that with jesus’ return, there will be a proper savior for him, his prayers will finally be listened to, maybe for once the statue on the wall will glance his way. 

jesus molded everything about luke, at this point, if he couldn’t believe in his father, jesus was going to take that place— and he did, luke was taught everything by the bible, all he ever relied on was the words of the lord, everything he ever did was a representation of what lied in those scriptures. he never worshipped another god, never said the lord’s name in vain, always remembered sabbath day, as well as honored his mother and… father. 

he didn’t commit adultery, in fact, he never spoke to women, really. his mother kept him sheltered, he was only allowed to speak to the women at church, not any of the women who rode on their bikes past his house, or smiled at him in the library. he just stared at them for a minute and looked away, contemplating how different things would be if he was able to speak to them. 

at the thought of women, luke’s mind races back to you, who is currently blinking at him and thinking he didn’t hear you. “i am excited— for easter, will you be at— the um.. the church that day?” 

another nod, then an awkward silence as you find nothing more to say, and neither does he. the church was a beautiful place, decorated with swirls of gold and dark wood, colorful stained glass windows that painted pictures of jesus, or virgin mary. if luke could move out of his home and live somewhere he genuinely enjoyed, it would be the church. 

there was something so comforting about it, maybe the faint music that played in the background, or the way it smelled of old books and floral perfumes, or the fact that it was just a place where so many people went to put their faith into someone. god was just so important, if luke didn’t know any better, he’d envy him. 

“you should come on sabbath days,” you interject his thoughts, leaning in to his vision. 

he blinks, eyes refocusing on your face, and he awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “i thought they were for relaxation?” 

“and worship,” you correct, and he crystalizes the memory of how each word sounds on your tongue, how it flows out so well, how it makes him swallow. 

“right, right,” he wets his lips nervously, “i’ll just— ask my mom. mama?” 

as soon as he asks his mom, she’s all smiles at him, nodding and even shaking your hand, thanking you for urging him to go to church more. 

“i’ll see you there,” is the last thing you say to luke that day. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

luke would be a liar to say he wasn’t riddled with visions of you in the darkest parts of the night, they started from the day you first spoke to him, and never left him since. he hated how much it plagued him, because it tempted him so well. it was like you were eve, offering him, adam, the apple. you reassure him that it’s sweet, that there’s no harm in taking a bite, and luke is parting his lips, ready to taste it, when he finally wakes up. 

the heat of the room is beating down on him, even in the cool of the night. his skin is sticky from sweat, and all he can ever think about is you. it should be a crime, really, how much you had consumed his every waking thought. for once, he wasn’t thinking of the bible verses he would be reading that day, what prayer he would be saying. 

luke didn’t know one thing about women, but the way you spoke to him, the way you smiled at him, the glints in your eyes, it had him wondering how he could make your face twist up in pleasure— fuck. he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it’s unholy, it’s weird, but he’s already in too deep. 

he’s already fed the memory of how pink your lips are, how soft they look, they probably feel the same. is it a sin to wonder how well you kiss? would you be all - consuming? or slow, sweet? luke doesn’t know why he prefers if you’d be hungry, if you’d bite and nip at him like you’re hungry, like he’s the last supper. 

his boxers feel tight on his skin, dick twitching in the confines of them. luke hardly knows this feeling well, he wasn’t one to allow himself to get hard, nor was he one to properly take care of it. but something about the idea of your teeth clashing against his when you kiss him, pushing your tongue into his mouth to taste him properly— it had his fingers pushing underneath the waistband of his underwear. 

when his fingertips graze his cock, he immediately shudders, lashes fluttering. every time luke touched himself, it felt like the first time, only now it felt.. better. better because he was thinking of you. luke had never watched porn, he hardly knows what it is, so the idea of what sex would be like is.. a gray area for him. 

but he works with what his mind is capable of, which is dry humping. the first setting that comes to mind is the church, which leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he goes with it. it comes to vividly, you on his lap, wet patch evident on his jeans from where your hips push down, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. when you moan, he does, when you whimper, he does, when you roll your hips, he does. 

everything was in sync, and it was all so sinful. masturbation itself wasn’t a sin, unless you thought of someone, and for the longest time, luke never thought of anyone, but you were a parasite he couldn’t shake, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 

luke wonders how much the priest will judge him when he utters these thoughts, these events in the confessional tomorrow. he has only ever uttered small, pitiful confessions, i didn’t help my mom with dinner, i turned in a book to the library late, i forgot to pray. he’s never had to confess anything larger. 

heat bubbles in luke’s stomach, it’s pleasant, sweet, but it curls, and curls until it’s suffocating, until his wrist is hurting from the fast pumps of his cock, sweat glistening on his skin, cheeks flushed. he can feel a whine scratching up his throat, in the confines of his mind, something is screaming at him, telling him to stop, but it’s too late, he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

when luke comes into the church the next day, it’s a saturday, a sabbath day. typically on these days, he would be spending his time lounging around his house, reading some piece of classical literature that he has hidden from his mother, wishing to keep the inked pictures of statues reeking of desire for one another a secret. 

but he was here, and so, he prayed. 

the sun had barely risen over the horizon (courtesy of daylight savings), yet the candles in the church were lit, leaving an orange hue to project around the empty room. 

luke felt gross, corrupt, unholy. 

for once, luke feels as though the statue above is glaring down on him, and he tries his best to not shrink into himself under the piercing gaze. he knows. his mouth is dry with each prayer, fingers sweaty around the rosary, but he wouldn’t allow himself to falter once more. 

as soon as he starts his fifth prayer, he hears the creak of the floorboards that he knows all too well, eyes fluttering open so he can look back to see who was there, hoping they hadn’t heard his last confessions in his prayers. 

you. his mind is tugged to a halt, every prayer he had rehearsed on his way to the church, completely forgotten. it was all just.. you. you seared on his skin, burned him until he was nothing but smoke. your gaze softens on him, a stark contrast to jesus’ pointed glares, “i didn’t think you’d come.” 

his voice is coarse from the nonstop prayers, “of course i would.” 

all he can think about is you underneath him, his own skin bitten and scratched, decorated in mulberry and deep pinks, he’s practically salivating at the idea. he wonders if, behind the confines of the church walls, would anyone hear you? would the priests dare to look for whoever is letting out such unholy noises? 

luke feels frozen the second he comes back to reality, dick hardening underneath the fabric beyond his control, his mind is tearing itself apart before he can even realize you’re speaking to him. 

“— wondering if you’d like to sit next to me tomorrow,” you pose, seemingly unaware of the bulge in luke’s pants that he is desperately trying to naturally cover with his hands. but you knew, you knew the effect you had on him, and he had the same effect on you. 

is it so cruel to only tease him harder? 

luke swallows the remaining saliva in his drying mouth, quickly moving to a stand, rosary bringing more attention to his covered crotch, “sure, yes— um.. i need to— go.” 

before you can even say anything, he is pushing past you, hand moving only to chastly grab your waist for a mere second as he passes, an instinct of trying to keep you stable, but it only makes a heat between your legs grow. 

desires go both ways, and it’s only a matter of time before they snap. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

easter was once luke’s most anticipated day of the year, but now it was the day of his nightmares. he barely slept last night, kept himself awake with chores, prayers, and reading the bible until it made him sick. he couldn’t have another dream, he couldn’t let you get to him anymore. he thought it would be easy to avoid you today, but he was cursed with his own mistakes as you sat down next to him in the pew. 

the worst part wasn’t that you sat down next to it, it’s that his mind was riddled with disgusting thoughts as soon as he saw how your dress brushed up your thighs, it was so simple, such a small act, but it just made him think the worst possible things. 

you bent over the pew, the bottom of your dress tugged up to show your panties, his hands are gripping your hips like his life depends on it, crotch pressed to your clothed pussy from behind. 

luke blinks back with his cheeks hot, noticing the bible in your hands. when he speaks, he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying, it’s like he’s possessed, “what verse are you reading?” 

“luke 22:40,” you say it so simply, a smile barely teasing your lips. 

on reaching the place, 

he said to them, “pray that you 

will not fall into temptation.” 

the saliva on luke’s tongue is sour, near poisonous, his lips were stained maroon from the skin of the apple. luke 22:40 was the exact line he had been reciting to himself, luke was his name. the serpent was squeezing him tight, his breath felt swiped away from his lungs. 

luke is quiet for the rest of the evening, even through the sermon, when he should be smiling when everyone else is, clapping when everyone else is— he is just silent, blank - faced. 

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling until everyone has gone off to eat after the sermon, and he’s tugging you back into the pew once it’s vacant, fingers forming a tight grip around your wrist, “why are you doing this?” 

he’s out of breath, and no matter how tough he tries to seem, he sounds pathetic, his voice a near whimper, like he’s pleading with you. 

“doing what?” you blink up at him, doe eyes making his teeth press together. 

“you’re tempting me— this, this isn’t fair, why?” his breath is shaky when he exhales. 

“i’m not doing anything, luke.” 

“you’re making me think— making me imagine things.. sinful things.” 

“what exactly are you thinking?” your voice is softer, and the heat of the sun is seeping into the church. 

“i..” how can he explain himself? every image that he wants to communicate is all too disgusting, a mixture of hunger and desire, it seemed luke wanted you to eat him alive, “you know what i’m thinking.” 

“why don’t you show it to me?” 

absolution; 

formal release from guilt, 

obligation, or punishment. 

or.. 

an ecclesiastical declaration

of forgiveness of sins.

morals trickle down luke’s back when he kisses you, he knows it’s all wrong, he knows he could just leave it at a kiss, but he didn’t want to be haunted with these visions any longer, maybe if he made them a reality, they would just leave. he could be himself again, the picture - perfect religious boy he was always supposed to be. the kiss is small at first, the hesitant movement of lips, the adjusting to the feeling, but it quickly grows into something hungry. 

luke didn’t know how to properly kiss, so he just followed your lead, and soon enough, he was kissing you like a starving man. from tongues clashing, to his hand mindlessly moving to your hip, body pressing against yours, it was everything he saw in the pictures printed in those books he read. 

when luke falls back into his seat on the pew, you had pulled away from him, admiring how flushed his lips are. when your hand meets his jaw, luke forgets who his god is supposed to be, all he can think about is you, even on the day dedicated to the man he has spent all of his life worshiping. 

“please,” it’s barely even audible, only made out by the slight flick of his tongue from the l. 

“tell me what you want.” 

it felt like luke was sitting in the confessional, admitting all of his nastiest desires when his lips part, finally being able to say his thoughts out loud, “can you— ride me? or.. if you don’t want to— that’s okay.” does luke know what riding is? only from the overheard gossip of other men, but he was told it was something he had to try, when he got married, of course. 

“i want to,” it’s as if you aren’t in a church, as if nobody could just walk in and see how you’re moving onto his lap, moving his hands to your ass, letting his desperate fingers tug your dress up. his purity bracelet brushes against your skin when you move to guide his hands to your ass, watching the nervous look in his eyes when he squeezes the flesh. 

he has no idea what he’s doing, he just wants to please you, to make you feel as good as he made himself feel to the idea of you the other night. maybe, at this point, luke isn’t praying to jesus, maybe he never was, because you were always in the back of his mind. no matter how guilty it made him feel, how many times he had squeezed his tear - ridden eyes shut and wished he was different, wished he wasn’t so easy to fall for temptation. 

god is watching, is what his mind tells him, but your eyes tell him to keep going, watching as he moves his hands to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal clinging being so improper for the walls ridden with crosses, but it just felt so right. he sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out his dick, the cool air searing his delicate skin, pupils blown wide when they watch your lips slightly part at the sight. 

 “you’re so big,” is all you can manage out. 

luke’s lips twitch around a small smile, “is that a good thing?” 

“if it fits,” you move through a few twists to properly take your panties off, letting them hang off your ankle when you reposition yourself to have your entrance pressing against the tip of his dick, “then yes.” 

luke’s lips press together as soon as you start sinking down on him, you’re so slow with it it’s almost torturous. the holy water he had dipped his water in and pressed to his skin, was now scorching him with each inch that filled your velvet walls. when you reached the hilt, it was safe to say you felt stuffed, and luke was making more noise than you. 

whimpers, grunts, he tried to hide them all behind the confines of his lips, but they dug their nails into his throat and crawled their way up until it was impossible for him to hold them back. as soon as you began moving, luke was purely fighting for his life against the own noises leaving him to the point of where he had to sit up, pressing his lips to your neck, he was quick to press his lips against the sensitive areas, biting, sucking— he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it properly, but he was just so desperate. 

he wanted you to shatter him like fine porcelain, to snap off his glass parts and crush them underneath your fingers with pure ease, to deconstruct every inch of him that he had taken years to build. no matter how empty he would feel in the end, to put himself in your hands, like a lump of clay in the hands of a goddess, he trusted your instincts. 

“i want you to ruin me,” he mumbles against the flesh of your neck, barely audible. 

“what?” your voice is breathless between moans, walls tightening around his dick with each movement of your hips. 

he whimpers out a simple, “sorry.” 

you didn’t forget his words, though, in fact, you let your fingers run through his dark curls, tangling through them until you tugged him back from your neck, just so you can take his place, now the one pressing your lips to his neck. he felt small underneath you, but he didn’t hate it, he liked the way that your lips felt on his skin, enough for him to lean his head back to provide you more blank canvas. 

you painted him in maroons and mulberries, blooming rose petals on his skin, marking him as your own. no matter how much luke knew he would be praying for forgiveness tonight, in this moment, everything he’s ever stood for has fallen off his broad shoulders. his hair is messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead, skin peppered with bite marks, deep reds, purples, every color in between and beyond.

“‘m gonna—“ luke’s words come out choked, dick pulsing inside of you, “gonna cum—“ 

luke’s orgasm hits him hard enough to have tears pooling into his eyes, maybe it was the guilt, or the everlasting pleasure, he wasn’t entirely sure, how could he even be? all he could think of was you, now. 

“do you still believe in god?” you offer him once you’re off him and he’s putting his belt back on. 

he stares at you for a second, hesitating, then his lips part, “yes.” 

somebody tell that bitch sebastian vettel that i fucking love him

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. 

Sd! Jenson and sd! Seb getting thanked after they spoiled you all day long?!?? Like holy, they may go rough now but the aftercare is so nice, they would probably give you massages and some hot chocolate, pepper you with kisses, next morning they’d probably still thank you by eating you out 🤭 (if you don’t do threesomes feel free to just do either one of them!) I’m also sending this as a request but I’m not too sure whether it’s still open.. feel free to ignore it if you’re too busy though!

-jenson anon ❤️ (have a great day!)

hi love! hope you're having a good day too! gonna do sd!seb cause I never get to write him :) -- all consent given prior to anything happening!

It had been a long night.

Sebastian arrived home from his race earlier than expected and he decided that he want to take you out for dinner and do a little shopping since we haven't seen you in a while.

And of course, an afternoon together ended with you two in bed. All different positions, all different locations, the two of you giggling and touching and sweet whispers in between. You knew you two had an arrangement; he took care of you and you gave him your time in return but it was moments like these that made you never want to let him leave.

The sun peeks through the thick curtains in his bedroom, you're laying on your back and your head turned to the side, but he can hear the little snores slipping past your lips.

Sebastian tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing your jaw softly. You mumble something and stir but you were still fast asleep. He kisses down your neck, along your shoulder to your chest and down your torso.

You shift a bit, Seb glances up at you to check if you were still asleep.

The lack of clothes from last night's activities only made it easier for him. His hand snaking up your thigh, rubbing over your hip. Sebastian’s holding your legs apart when you feel his  tongue against you. Thighs on either side of his head, you weren't fully against his face but Sebastian’s hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him. 

He can feel your thighs close enough him, a signal that you were now awake. If that wasn't enough, the hand tangled in his hair was.

The blonde is smooth under your fingers, little tangled curls hook on your fingers as you pull on it, his name falling from your lips a million times over; as sweet as a prayer but the context was down right sinful. 

Sebastian’s tongue curled upwards, brushing against your clit and you tug on his hair, something incoherent meets his ears.

“That- oh.” Your chest heaves, head falling back into the couch cushions. 

He smiles, your legs shaking as he pulls away from you. Your cheeks go red when you see his face glistening, nose to chin. Seb’s tongue slides across his lips, a satisfied smile on his face. 

"Good morning," his cheek rests on your inner thigh, looking up at you. "Mhm, no more racing," you hook your leg over him. "You can stay here and do that."

Seb laughs, "whatever you want, pretty girl."

Hi can I get (for one muse to drive and finger the other who is in the passenger seat.) with either Sebastian Vettel or Jenson button please 🙏

Dbf!Sebastian Vettel x fem! Reader ft. Jenson Button

Yk i couldn’t decide who i wanted to write this with so i chose both, i hope you don’t mind:)

Warnings?; SMUT, fingering, reader is the daughter of a retired driver! But no names are specified, age gap!(reader is in her twenties), cursing, kissing, dirty talk, teasing, kinda public? Everything happens in a car.

You weren’t expecting to see Jenson in the passenger seat of Sebastian’s two seater Ferrari when it pulled up to the curb of the restaurant.

You had been on a date gone wrong when you called your father’s best friend for a ride, none of your friends had answered and with your parents being out of town he was the last person you could think of.

“Um, seb where am I supposed to sit?” You questioned and your confusion only grew when Jenson opened the passenger door but never got out.

You were met with a smirk from the German as he kept quiet, but Jenson gave you the answer you were looking for as he patted his lap and spoke up.

“Got a perfect seat right here love” the Brit smiled at you.

Butterflies filled your stomach as you thought about it, it wouldn’t be the first time you sat on his lap however last time you were in Sebastian’s living room while the man was between your thighs and Jenson held you open for him.

“Come on honey, we haven’t got all night” Sebastian’s spoke, bringing you out of your thoughts.

You blushed as you took your spot on top of Jenson, your little dress doing nothing to put a barrier between you and his denim covered thighs.

You were tense and Jenson didn’t like it, he could feel you holding back your weight and not relaxing completely into him.

“Calm down love, it’s just us” Jenson whispered into your ear as one of his large hands began to run along your bare thigh.

A smile took over the Blondes face as he felt your body sink into his, releasing a sigh of contentment as he felt your warm body against his.

“So what happened on your date?” Sebastian questioned, one of his hands coming to rest on the thigh closest to him; Jenson’s still on the other.

“Uh, nothing he just wasn’t my type” you breathed shakily as you watched Jenson’s hand slowly move under the skirt of your dress.

“Hm, why’d you go out with him then?”

“W-what do you mean?” You stuttered as Sebastian’s hand joined his friends.

“You said he wasn’t your type, if you knew that why’d you go in the first place darling?” Jenson questioned in your ear, voice deep and accent thick.

“Bec-oh, because he was, shi-He was cute” you whined as Jenson’s hand began to rub you through the lace of your panties.

“Yeah? Why’d you end it early?” Sebastian quipped as his own hand came into contact with your folds, thanks to Jenson removing your panties.

You couldn’t reply, the feeling of his thick fingers teasing your entrance taking all of your concentration.

But Jenson wasn’t having it, “I think he asked you a question bunny” he spoke with a sharp swat to your thigh.

Swallowing thickly you did your best to reply to the Man beside you.

“H-he recognized my last n-name, ah!” you whimpered, hand gripping onto Sebastian’s wrist as two of his fingers entered your core.

“Let me guess he turned out to be an f1 fan and only asked about your dad?.” Jenson spoke.

“Mhm” you sobbed as both their fingers began to work you open, Sebastian’s scissoring inside you while Jenson shamelessly rubbed your clit.

You attempted to buck your hips but they were quickly pushed down by Jenson’s free hand, yearning him a whimper of annoyance.

“Don’t be a brat now Liebling, after all we did cut our dinner short to come and get you” Sebastian tutted, taking his eyes off the hardly filled road for a moment to look over at your breathtaking frame.

The skirt of your dress was pushed up and the panties you once wore were now resting on the floor of his overly expensive car, your pretty sounds getting louder as their fingers didn’t let up.

“Can feel her clenching my fingers so tight, our girls getting close” Sebastian spoke aloud, talking about you like you weren’t even there.

“Please, I-need it, please I’ll be good” you begged them, the pleasure from both of them so overwhelming.

“Oh you poor thing” Jenson said with a faux pout, his free hand coming up to hold you jaw, turning you head to connect your lips in a dirty kiss.

It was filthy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting against each other, and by the time you had pulled away you realized Sebastian was pulling into his private driveway.

And while you had expected them to let up they didn’t, in fact Sebastian sped up his movements as he felt you clenching hard around his fingers.

The sound of squelching from your cunt filled the small car. Sebastian’s fingers coming into contact with the sensitive spot inside you as his fingers continued to fuck you rigorously.

“Seb!-ngh, feels so good” you babbled, head thrown back against Jason’s shoulder as his fingers that had been abusing your clit applied more pressure to the small bud.

“Look so beautiful like this bunny, all spread open for us.” Sebastian cooed.

“Don’t stop please! I need it” you begged both men, your pathetic pleads going right into Jensons ear.

“Oh you need it huh? I’m not sure honey. Already had to leave our dinner because you got bored with some jerk, why should we give you anything else?” Jenson tutted behind you.

“No, no, please-Jenson please let me come, I’m sorry for interrupting your dinner” You sobbed as the heat in your lower stomach got stronger and stronger.

“Hmm, I guess we’ll accept your apology. Go on and come for us pretty girl.” Sebastian encouraged.

Their fingers worked together to get you over the edge, mouth dropping open in a silent scream as your body shook.

Your thighs quivered as you soaked Sebastian’s fingers in your release, both men’s eyes gleaming with pride as they watched you come down from your high.

Jenson had slightly repositioned you so you could now face Sebastian, just in time to watch him slip his covered fingers into his mouth; moaning at the taste of you.

A gasp came from you as Jenson ran his fingers through your folds so he could get his own taste of your release.

“Taste so good darling” he smiled down at you.

“Wanna taste?” Sebastian asked.

With a small nod you leaned forward expecting him to slip his fingers into your mouth, however one of his large hands wrapped around your throat and pulled your lips to his.

You moaned into his mouth at the taste of yourself, his tongue running along yours as your lips moved together.

“I think it’s time we take you inside and fuck you properly, what’d you think?”

-

RED DRESS

Kimi Raikkonen x Reader x Sebastian Vettel

“Will you put that red dress on? The one with the really low…” He trailed off, his hand trailing down his chest, referencing your after party dress that you wore in Monaco that left very little to the imagination. Live on air: Sebastian Vettel was hitting on you. Not only was this highly unprofessional, but humiliating as well. Being the only female Formula One presenter had its perks, like the young girls who confided in you their hopes and dreams of being in your shoes one day, but days like this made you wish they never had to experience this form of extreme embarrassment.

Sebastian was a good looking man, no doubt about it, but his cocky personality and his disregard for others overshadowed his looks, and now all you see is a flirt with no sense of shame.

In order to avoid making the situation even worse, you pulled the microphone away from Sebastian and let out a forced giggle, “ok, and it’s time to go! Ladies and gentleman: Sebastian Vettel!” Sebastian walked away, being beckoned by his manager to take part in what you could only assume was another post-race interview. Your cameraman gave you the signal that you were no longer being filmed and you let out a frustrated sigh, “every-time!” you said turning to your co-host. “Every-time I’m forced to interview him, he pulls one of his stunts, embarrasses me, and then leaves with this satisfied smile on his face! It’s like his only goal is to publicly humiliate me!” You begin walking down the grid with your co-host, away from the podium area, and even further away from Sebastian.

“He was just messing with you,” your co-host insisted, trying to lighten the mood and hopefully end the Sebastian-centred conversation. “He’s just finished a physically taxing, almost 2 hour long race, let him have his fun.”

“There’s a difference between fun and embarrassing someone on worldwide television, and if you couldn’t tell already, Sebastian was doing the latter.” You turned around and made your way to the cab you had called earlier to take you back to your hotel, not wanting to continue the conversation, as its forcing you to think about the German driver longer than necessary.

—————

It wasn’t only Sebastian who insisted on giving you a hard time, but his fellow driver and podium sitter, Kimi Raikkonen.

The Finnish driver didn’t always irk you as much as he does now, in fact you grew quite close over your shared years in the sport. It wasn’t until Sebastian made the move to Red Bull, that his flirtatious attitude rubbed off on Kimi, tearing a rift in what once was a close friendship. The change wasn’t sudden, but small actions that made you wonder what possessed Kimi to do such things. One of the first comments he made that stood out to you was during an after party, celebrating Kimi and his latest win. Although parties were never your idea of a night well spent, it was practically necessary in order to get into the good graces of certain cold-hearted drivers. Sipping on you martini, huddled up in a booth in the corner of the Monegasque club, your thoughts were suddenly interrupted.

“You look good.” A voice says somewhere behind you, turning around, you see the last person you’d expect to be dishing out compliments. Kimi Raikkonen, in a night club, wearing a suit. It was like looking at a fish out of water. Instead of being visibly uncomfortable, like he usually was in large social gatherings, you noticed something different in his eyes; something darker.

“What?” Although you may have heard the Finn’s kind words the first time around, it was so out of character that you needed reassurance that it wasn’t just something your mind made up to pass time at the after party.

“I said you look good,” repeating his words, Kimi slid into the booth to sit beside you, he smelled of booze and cheap cologne, proving one of your manly assumptions about the driver, that he’s too preoccupied in his own thoughts to indulge in luxuries that he was more than able to afford. Noticing Kimi’s thigh grazing yours, you slid down the booth to create some space, taking note of the slight frown that he now wore. Before you were able to inquire on the sudden change, your co-host called you to the dance floor, insisting that you dance with them and not “sulk in the corner like a loser.”

You looked at Kimi, giving him a sad smile, a way of apologizing and saying goodbye, before being dragged to the clubs centre. You never brought up his actions again, but some part of you still wonders what would have happened if you stayed in that booth a little bit longer.

————

The Finns actions never bothered you, until he, like Sebastian, decided to bring the flirting into the eyes of the public.

Kimi’s second win of the season, interrupting Sebastian’s winning streak, brought out a side of Kimi that had yet to be seen. Proud of not only winning the Italian Grand Prix, but also successfully stopping his rival from rewriting the sports history; Kimi was ecstatic. After getting weighed after the race, he sauntered over to you with a newfound confidence in his step.

“Kimi! Your second win of the season, almost 3 months after your first; how does it feel for your hard work to finally pay off?” You asked with a smile on your face.

“It feels good.”

“Any plans to celebrate your massive win?” You wonder, trying to keep the conversation alive.

“What are your plans?” He asked with a smirk on his face.

Not him too, you thought. Although Sebastian’s incessant flirting was embarrassing, the last thing you needed was another driver who enjoyed seeing you flustered in front of the millions watching at home. Fighting back an annoyed sigh and trying not to sound as flustered as you feel, you answered “ I don’t think I have any plans made,” you said looking over to you co-host, silently begging them to save you from this nightmare.

“That’s good news for me then,” Kimi smirked, “Ill text you” he said walking away as your next driver came over to be interviewed.

————-

You never expected him to actually text you, assuming it was him playing up the flirting for the cameras, until you got back to your hotel. Checking your phone after a long day, you see his name pop up. There was no “hello” or “how are you,” but an address. Quickly typing it into your search engine, your jaw dropped.

It was a nightclub, the most exclusive in all of Monza.

A few minutes passed and you received another text from the Finn. It simply said,

“wear that red dress.”

hands !