WET DREAMZ.

pairings: sebastian vettel x reader. lewis hamilton x reader. jenson button x reader. nico rosberg x reader. fernando alonso x reader.

summary: when you move next door to a hot single dad, you take it upon yourself to seduce him. too bad for you that he uncovers your plan. you’re not exactly subtle.

warnings: sexual content. like most of this is straight up smut. mdni. explicit mentions of f!reader’s body parts. charles cameo in nico’s! implied cheating in fernando’s.

author’s note: i woke up in a fugue and wrote this as i ignored all of my adult responsibilities. show it some love <3 also no beta. we die like men.

— taglist | tip jar | feedback and requests | masterlist | ♡

SEBASTIAN VETTEL ✿

when your company allowed you to work remotely, you moved into a smaller village on the outskirts of germany. your family and friends weren’t too happy with your decision to move but with the current economic state of your country at the moment, it was great for your bank account.

your house was a modest affair, with three bedrooms but a gorgeous kitchen that gave you direct visual access into your neighbour’s backyard. the same neighbour who knocked on your door when you first moved in, with a jar of honey and some eggs as a housewarming gift. he was covered with a light sheen of sweat that would have seemed disgusting on anyone else. he introduced himself in german and switched to lightly accented english when he saw your confusion.

he’d sometimes pass you when he was walking his dog, or cycling to the farmer’s market. he’d make his kids wave hello as he’d pick them up and drop them off at their mother’s. he’d take your cakes when you’d exhausted your baking hobbies and would burst if you’d have another slice. he’d grin and smile bashfully when you told him you’d made one just the way he’d liked it.

as you watch him, he turns around and waves at you. a big grin splitting his face as you wave back. you’re so fucked. you spent an hour on facetime last night with your best friends as you went through the pros and cons of fucking your hot neighbour.

the cons outweighed the pros mostly, if it went badly you could lose access to the free gifts he’d bring by occasionally or his help when he would have a look at your car when it started spluttering when you needed to buy groceries. it would be weird too. aren’t adults supposed to be on good terms with their neighbours?

it didn’t stop you from you asking him if you could wait out the storm in his house instead of yours as all the lights had gone out and when he kissed you, you were shocked. you hadn’t needed to come up with a plan to seduce him into wanting you, because he already did.

he had you spread over his lap, his ring finger and his middle finger already in your centre. the sounds of your arousal filling the room as you fucked yourself against his digits. he smiled into the crook of your neck before kissing it.

“i knew you were this desperate for it,” he hums, his german accent thicker as he pressed his thumb lightly against your clit. he’s teasing you, and normally you’d be okay with it. playing this mutual game of cat and mouse but not when you’re this desperate to get off. “it’s okay. because i was desperate for it too.”

your eyes roll back as you reach your peak.

LEWIS HAMILTON ᯽

after your promotion, you decide to treat yourself to a summer home in monaco. it’s a flat in an expensive complex, with a pool, a gym and even a spa. you’d spend many days relaxing and enjoying the amenities or shopping with the bonus money that your boss had bestowed upon you for sealing a contract with one of the biggest businesses in your country. this was your time to relax.

yet, you couldn’t relax. as you finished your daily workout - yes you now had the time - you saw the hottest man in your entire life walk past you in a loose gym set. embarrassingly, you were filling up your water bottle which overflowed and covered you with the excess. thank god he didn’t see.

you hadn’t been much of a femme fatale, you were more of a business woman in your head. your sister told you that there wasn’t much difference between the two, just that the femme fatale chose a different line of business. it was that comment that encouraged you to start your plan of seduction.

it wasn’t working, even when you wore your best gym outfit, the one that made your ass look incredible, or when you attempted to bump into him at the complex’s coffee shop in the cute two piece that exposed your best assets. it seemed like he disappeared.

until he knocked at your door at the middle of the day, you opened it to see him dressed in a suit. for a selfish second, your thoughts drifted to him wearing this for you.

“do you mind watching my dog? roscoe is in a mood today and my usual dogsitter is busy. i have a meeting that is impossible for me to get out of. you’ll be doing me a big favour.” oh. he was british.

you smile at him, as graciously as you can. thanking god that you had just come back from brunch with the girls, so your hair and makeup were still done. you told him all about how much you love dogs and you wouldn’t mind at all watching his fur baby! you were a lovely neighbour after all.

he repaid the favour later anyways, on his knees and in between your legs. he pulls down your underwear, you had shaved in anxious preparation for this moment, your arousal leaving a stain against the fabric. he pressed his thumb against your folds before licking a stripe between them. his tongue flicking against you, as you pressed down harder on his face.

your moans were loud and unapologetic. you had a gorgeous man between your thighs, eating you out like this was his calling. he grinned at you, his face drenched in your juices. you groaned and put your hands on his braids.

now this was a holiday.

JENSON BUTTON ☆

moving to the big city was supposed to be a shock, but you took to it gracefully like a duck to water. london wasn’t the nicest to everyone but it took a liking to you. you bought a house with your best friend in a family neighbourhood with low crime rates and a high chance of getting more money when you’d both inevitably sell it in the future.

it was walkable which you loved. you could walk less then ten minutes to go shopping. you had come back with a few shopping bags when you accidentally bumped into your neighbour who was coming back from picking up his daughters. he laughs at the action as he apologises and gives a hand out for you to shake.

“i’m jenson. sorry about that, these two usually have me run off my feet!” he points at his two daughters who have already ran insider the house. “it’s like they’re my parents.”

after shaking your hand, he takes his cap off and runs a hand through his slightly greying hair. he’s wearing a pair of shorts with a loose t-shirt. it is almost summertime but the weather in london had a mind of its own. sunny one day, rainy the next and freezing for both. but jenson didn’t seem to mind the cold.

you introduce yourself and he listens intently until you realise that you have to go. there is frozen food in the bags and jenson’s daughters are calling for their post-school snack. but after that meeting, you always time your post shopping trip for when jenson comes back with the girls. your roommate/best friend doesn’t protest when you insist on the shopping being your chore but she does give you a sideways glance when she sees you chatting with jenson again on the step.

one night, you’ve come back from a date. it went awfully as per usual, although london seemed to love you and want you, the men didn’t seem to. you’re home late, when you rummage in your purse and swear loudly. you brought the wrong purse! you could call your roommate but she sleeps like the dead and probably wouldn’t answer. you’re thinking of breaking through the window when a voice calls at you.

“y/n?” jenson grins at you. “are you alright?”

after a moment, and a few minutes of arguing that you’re fine to sleep in the bushes, you’re inside jenson’s home. dressed in a pair of his old clothes. he hands you a cup of tea and puts down a packet of biscuits next to it.

“so, are you going to tell me why i caught you dressed to the nines and attempting to break through a window?” he’s trying to sound stern but he’s smiling as he says it.

“bad date,” you start and smile ruefully, taking a sip of tea. “forgot my keys and well, at least you caught me before i did any damage.”

he laughs. you laugh too but not before realising that there are probably kids sleeping in the house. you bring this up to jenson who waves off your concern.

“the girls are at their mum’s. it’s just us. don’t worry. you can be as loud as you’d like.”

you end up being very loud as you lay on his very comfortable bed. he’s tapping himself again the hood of your clit as you squirm breathless from the earlier orgasm he gave you. he smiles at you, leaning up to kiss you as he slides in, swallowing your gasps as he kisses you firmer.

“you know how long i’ve dreamt of having you like this?” he asks. you shake your head, moaning again as he fucks you harder. “since the first day you bumped into me, in that little fucking skirt. dreamt of bending you over and having you like this. anyway you’d let me. would you?”

you nod, voice locked in your throat as he mouths at your tits. he smiles at your willingness.

“good. we have the entire weekend to ourselves. let’s see how many times i can get you to cum. hmm?” you squeeze yourself around him as you have your first orgasm. your cunt spasming as he gently pulls out. he lets you rest against him for a moment, taking a deep breath as he runs a hand down your back.

“now that’s number one. keep count for me darling, okay?”

NICO ROSBERG 𑁍

you weren’t a yacht person. when your university friend had begged you to come home with her for the holidays, you hadn’t expected the family party to be held on a yacht. this was out of your tax bracket.

it seemed like everyone in monaco was right. the casual displays of wealth and decadence made you sick at times. thinking about how the money that went to buying that birkin bag could have made a change in someone’s life. then you think about how you’re wearing a custom gown on a friend’s yacht and realise that you’re now part of the problem.

a bonus about being in monaco, was that the men were gorgeous. your friend’s older brother charles was handsome with dimples and a gorgeous accent. if he hadn’t been in a relationship with a supermodel, you would have been all over that. thankfully, there was more eye candy in the city. your friend’s father had a business partner that was in their house more often then not.

he was blond, blunt and pretty in all the ways an older man could be. when he looked at you, you felt like the world could burn at your feet. he had also been on the yacht at the same time as you. drinking champagne, mingling with family and investors as you ate canapés and watched the sky.

“is it boring you?” he asks, as you turn around. he was dressed in a loose linen shirt, light coloured trousers with his shirt open just enough to see the smooth skin underneath. “can’t believe she brought you to a work event.”

“it’s fine. there are worse places to be.” you respond. you take a sip of champagne and you both ignore the fact he watches the sip go down. he takes note of the way that you’re still looking in the direction of charles and his girlfriend, the two still wrapped around each other.

“you’ve fallen for the charles charm?” he says, smiling as he sits across from you. he puts his ankles up on the table like he owns it, which he probably does. you can tell a lot from a person’s body language, and his is telling you that he’s used to getting what he wants. “it’s a shame. another pretty girl lost in his eyes. want another drink?”

“pretty girl?”

he nods, blue eyes darkening as he looks at you over the rim of his drink.

“would you want me to show you how pretty i think you are?”

so that’s how you find yourself bent over the sink in the bathroom at a yacht party, your pretty dress bunched up at the waist as he presses his fingers inside you. scissoring them to stretch you wider.

“is this what you imagined he’d do to you?” he asks, voice curious. “that he’d go down on you in one of the bedrooms? he’d let you go down on him? that he’d split you open with his cock as we all walked around upstairs?”

you sob as he talks you through it, mascara running down your cheeks. how are you going to explain to your best friend that you fucked her dear precious uncle nico while talking about her brother. he grinds his palm against your clit as he stands up and gags your mouth with his fingers.

“can’t be too loud honey, don’t want them to hear you.”

FERNANDO ALONSO ꩜

spain was a big adventure for you and your boyfriend. the two of you made the decision to move for a few months to his grandfather’s home to help redesign the place. it was slightly run down but nothing that you couldn’t fix. the goal was to rebuild it in order to sell it off.

however, you hadn’t foreseen that this would effectively destroy what relationship you had with your boyfriend. he insisted on not signing the place under your name despite you also funnelling funds into the rebuilding of the house. after another argument, you decide to take a break. wearing a bikini, and armed with nothing besides water, sunscreen and a good book, you make your way into the backyard. sunning yourself to at least gain something from all the money you’ve put in, even if its just a tan and a relaxing afternoon.

“you’re the new neighbour?” a voice calls out, as he leans against the fence that separates your property. you knew the next door neighbour had kids, you could hear them playing occasionally in the summer sun as you painted. you didn’t know they had a hot dad. that’s new information. he smiles at you. “it’s been a while since there has been a young person. the old man who lived here has been here since before i was even born. you’re his kid?”

“no,” you laugh. “he’s my boyfriend’s grandfather. i’m just here as a cash cow apparently.”

your voice turns a little bitter but why wouldn’t you be? you have put in the same amount of time and effort as he has onto this place and now you’re not getting anything back. court is an option but it’ll drain even more of your bank account.

“why is that?” he asks, head tilted as he looks at you.

you end up spilling everything to him. about the house, the money, the contract that has your name redacted. in return, he tells you that his name is fernando and the kids you always hear playing in his back garden aren’t his but rather his nieces and nephews. it’s nice listening to him speak, with the heavy spanish lilt to his accent. he is the first person in a while who has just listened to your grievances so when he asks you inside for a drink, you don’t hesitate. grabbing your wraparound skirt, you follow him inside.

less then ten minutes later, you’re on his lap, as he presses his mouth against your tits. enveloping one nipple in his mouth while his fingers move to play with your other one. you grind down harder against him, feeling your clit brush against the hard muscle of his thigh. your bottoms are soaked with your arousal as you lean closer and bite his shoulder to stay quiet. he leans away from you for a moment, as your eyes widen worried that you’ve done something wrong.

“don’t be quiet hermosa, let him hear it,” he grins up at you then kisses you. “isn’t that most of the fun?”

author’s note: sorry y’all idk what came over me.

Favorite fics part. 3

13. Kimi Raikkonen:

Him using ice (smut)

Only the best for you (smut)

Reader gets injured (fluff)

Spoken admiration (fluff)

14. Marcus Armstrong:

Careful daughter (fluff)

Sidewalk rule (fluff)

15. Lewis Hamilton:

Please (smut)

Don't give me that look (smut)

16. Jenson Button:

No such thing as I can't (+SV) (smut)

Reader reading spicy books (smut)

Jenson is your boss (smut)

Something devoured (smut)

Innocent mind (smut)

Morning rush (suggestive)

Sugar daddy (fluff)

Be your wingman (fluff)

Ugly Christmas sweater (fluff)

17. Toto Wolff:

Something desired (smut)

Sleeping on his back (fluff)

18. Mark Webber:

Swimming (smut)

Christmas music (fluff)

19. Fernando Alonso

Something spoiled (smut)

Your pick (smut)

Reader getting jealous (suggestive)

20. Yuki Tsunoda:

God knows I'm tired (fluff)

21. Logan Sargeant:

954. (smut)

Summer in the 305 (fluff)

My one and only (fluff)

From the garage to the hotel (fluff)

Viva las Vegas (fluff)

22. Liam Lawson:

And they were roommates (smut)

Him teasing reader (smut)

The man with the hex (fluff, suggestive)

Tickle attack (fluff)

Reader playing with his hair (fluff)

Good, now sleep (fluff)

23. Clement Novalak:

Brother's best friend (suggestive)

24. Paul Aaron:

Only one bed (fluff)

25. Ollie Bearman:

Go back to bed (fluff)

26. Zak O'Sullivan:

Nuggets and shakes 9FLUFF0

Random:

Driver!Reader getting in a crash (fluff)

172 notes View Post

pleaseultraviolenceme

1 year ago

toto and you accidentally calling him daddy and being scared he won’t like it but then he’s like “say it again” and goes feral ☠️ i need to be stopped pls

- 🦕

GRGIRGJI THIS IS SOOO GOOD YES ANON. hes truly One Daddy To Rule Them All.

afab gn reader, warning for daddy kink obvs

Toto And You Accidentally Calling Him Daddy And Being Scared He Won’t Like It But Then He’s Like

he's got you in his lap, his back against the headboard as you ride him

his large hands are on your hips, guiding the way you rise and roll back down onto his thick cock, deep voice rumbling in praise every time you take him to the hilt once more

"that's it, i knew you could do it, always so good"

and that's when it slips out, with your head nestled in the bend between his shoulder and neck

"thank you, daddy"

he freezes, his grip on your waist tightening as you whip your head back to stare at him with rabbit-in-headlight eyes

"i-i'm so sorry, oh my g-" you begin, only for your apology to be silenced by toto's mouth on your own - a deep, hungry kiss, his teeth nipping and pulling your bottom lip

you moan into the kiss, hips subconsciously grinding against his cock once more

when he breaks the kiss, you're both panting for breath, his forehead still pressed against yours as he asks if you're sure

and when you nod in return, a small smile toying at your lips as you reply with a teasing "yes, daddy", you don't understand why the world is suddenly upside down until toto is fucking into you and you realise he's flipped you both other

he hoists your legs up around his waist, pulling your arms above your head and pinning them there with one strong hand

"say it. say it again."

he's fucking growling down at you, and you can't refuse, even if the rough thrusts of his hips are making it hard for you to form words

"d-daddy! fuck! daddy!"

he groans again, a deep, desperate sound at the base of his throat, and releases your wrists to move your legs once more, pulling them up around his shoulders, bending you nearly in half

he's so deep you feel like you can hardly breathe, let alone think

the only thing you can say is your broken litany of "daddy--!", shaped around moans and whines that edge into screams as he presses circles into your clit with his thumb

"that's right, so good for me -- cum for me, cum for daddy, yes?"

and you can't deny him, you can never deny toto, not when he coos into your ear like that and rolls his hips so deep you think he's ruined you for all other men, forever

afterwards, he cleans you up, holding you against his chest with strong arms

"so you're uh... into that?"

he grumbles something suspiciously similar to "don't push your luck", and you laugh

739 notes View Post

pleaseultraviolenceme

10 months ago

“remember that night?” - ms47

pairing: mick schumacher x ex!reader

in which they spend one last night together

word count: 2.4k

content warnings: none, lazy writing towards the middle i’m sorry

song: remember that night? by sara kays

masterlist

you don’t know how long it took to get over him the first time, but you remember how hard it was. sleepless nights spent crying and reading old text messages, sad songs made as a soundtrack for each of your memories, endless rants to your friends about how you were so good together and you don’t know what went wrong.

eventually, you found it was easier to just forget about him than to patch up the hole shaped like him in your heart. it worked - you hadn’t thought of him in the weeks since you finally deleted all his photos and messages from your phone.

his contact was the one thing you didn’t delete though, but even then, when your phone starts ringing on a quiet tuesday night, you never would’ve expected it to be him.

you start to reach for your phone to mute the call, then pause, waiting to see if it would keep ringing. then the buzzing stops, and it’s just his name sitting as a missed call in your notifications. you contemplate messaging him to see if everything is okay, but quickly decide against it.

but maybe it’s the sight of the blue heart still next to his name, or the sudden longing you feel at the realisation you were so close to hearing his voice again after so long that it strikes something in your chest and compels you to pick up your phone and dial back his number.

it rings once, twice, and you’re already anticipating his voice after the third ring. he’s never let it ring more than three times when it comes to you.

“liebling?” his voice is raspy, like it how it used to be when he was close to falling asleep or had just woken up. the sound of your old nickname masked in the voice you once so ardently loved makes you grip your phone tighter in both hands as you try to stop yourself from saying something stupid. “y/n? are you there?”

“hi, mick,” you finally breathe out.

“hi. i didn’t think you’d answer.” and you must be imagining it but as his voice starts to clear, you can hear the underlying hints of a smile in his tone.

“is everything okay?”

“yes. i just… i mean you can hang up if you want.” then he falters. “no, actually. can i pick you up?”

“like… now?” it’s almost 11pm, and while you’re nowhere close to sleeping, it’s sure as hell not a time you go out.

“yes.”

“you’re in town?”

“yes,” he repeats.

“why?”

“because why not?”

you’re tempted to say yes, even though seeing him again would just unravel all the effort you put into getting over him. but he’s always had that effect on you, where because of him, you make stupid decisions. the first was falling in love with him. the next?

“yeah,” you say quickly before you can take it back.

there’s rustling on his side of the call as he makes his way around the house. “i’ll be there in thirty minutes. dress warm, it’s going to rain out.”

you’re about to thank him for the tip when he hangs up, leaving you alone to wonder what the fuck you just got yourself into. just then, it starts to pour.

—

his car pulls up in front of your house forty minutes later. the driver’s door slams as he gets out, rounding the car to open your door for you.

“hi.”

“hey,” he grins at you, jacket and beanie engulfing his large frame. he gives you a quick side hug and even through all your layers, every nerve in your body is set off at his touch.

he waits for you to get in the car and you realise that he put on the seat warmer for you, just how you liked it when it was cold out.

the gesture warms your body and face. you hadn’t thought he’d remember that about you, but that was only one thing to add to tonight’s list of surprises.

he’s quiet when he gets in, starts up the car and drives away from the curb, before asking, “how’ve you been?”

“i’m good. i got laid off a while ago, but i start a new job on friday. what about you? i heard you’re a reserve driver for mercedes now?”

he glances over at you, raises a brow. “you still keep up with formula one?”

“i like the drama,” you shrug.

he whistles lowly. “drive to survive fan over here, guys. tell me, what’s drs?”

“no,” you say softly. “someone i used to care about recommended it to me.”

and even though you said used to, he suppresses a smile at the fact that you’ve kept something from your relationship close to you.

you make small talk for a while - how’s his mother, father? is angie doing well? how’s the past seven months fared you? you fire questions back and forth between each other and for a while, there’s a semblance of normality in whatever is going on between you.

soon, he notices the way you shiver slightly despite him having run the heater.

“are you cold? here, take my beanie.” he tugs his beanie off his head before giving it to you to put on. you take it gratefully, slipping it on.

you both fall silent for a second, and just as you open your mouth to ask him what the hell you’re doing here, he’s blurting out, “why did you call me back?”

you freeze. that hadn’t been what you were expecting. but you reckon if there’s a time for honesty, it’s now. “because i missed you.”

you catch the way he throws his head back in relief, a grin spreading across his face. “why did you call in the first place?” you ask.

“because i missed you.” he states simply. truthfully.

it’s like a weight has been taken off your chest at your admission. in that little moment, with him by your side, you feel content. happier than you’ve been in a long time. it’s a brave move when he nudges his hand against yours, but you accept it quickly, placing your palm over his.

you look out the window as he drives, headlights casting shadows over the rainy streets. through the dim lighting you can make out the familiar scenery.

the long winding road brings back memories of singing karaoke in the car, conversations with no meaning and driving around with no place to be and nowhere you wanted to go, so long as you were with each other.

you recognise the path he’s taking - towards the small observation point that overlooks the whole town. you know he’s going to swing by the 24 hour ice cream shop on the way there, and there when you realise he’s taking you out for a night of old traditions.

the car rolls to the stop and then he pats your thigh with an i’ll be back, running out into the rain to the store before you can even remind him of your order. you doubt he’s forgotten. and in his absence, you can’t help but smile to yourself at his kind words and sweeter gestures, despite knowing better. despite knowing that going with him was stupid and risky and chances are, when you leave him in the morning, you’re going to leave with a broken heart.

your thoughts are cut off by mick sliding back into his seat, a cup of chocolate chip ice cream in one hand, a cone of strawberry in the other.

“strawberry, please,” you say and he hands you the cone, watches you take it then wrinkle your nose before grabbing at the choc chip.

his laughter rings through the car, clear through the pounding rain and you’re sure you’ve never heard something more joyful than in that moment. “you’re so predictable.”

mick drives you to the lookout so you can watch the views as you eat. you sit in silence at the top, “strawberries & cigarettes” by troye sivan playing softly from the radio. the town is quiet below you too, lit by the starry night sky, only a few stray lights on in the odd night owls’ home. it’s peaceful and calm, and you’re content with mick and for moment all feels right, despite everything about your night being completely wrong.

and when you’re both done, he turns you, brows furrowing as he realises something.

his hand cups your chin, guiding you to look at him. “you’ve got a little…” he mutters, thumb gently swiping the ice cream from the corner of your mouth.

“thank you,” you whisper. his gaze flicks across your face - from your eyes to your mouth then back again. you find yourself mimicking his actions and there’s an intense panging in your chest when your eyes meet his again.

“i want you back.”

your heart plummets - those were the words you’d been dreading to hear. “mick, don’t say that. don’t do that to me.”

he rears back at the sudden sharpness of your tone, and you see the exact moment he begins to disassociate, his composure breaking and demeanour falling. “but i do, i’ve always-”

“mick, can you please not?” you beg. you reach up to hold his face so that his gaze is focused solely on you. “what we had, mick, it was good. but when we ended, it hurt me, because losing you felt like losing air. yes, i miss you but missing you is different to still wanting you. i can’t afford to want you again because it might just kill me this time.”

“liebling-”

“this, right now, is good. so can we please keep it just like this? nothing more.”

it’s as though the light in his eyes dim at your words and he just nods, before turning away and turning the ignition on. his voice is hoarse when he says, “it’s way too late. let me take you back home.”

an apology is at the tip of your tongue - if you take back what you said, what would change between you two? you didn’t want to go back to what you used to be, you just wanted him. but wanting him again is impossible. you don’t know what to do; you just want him to stop frowning. so you reach out for his hand, and he lets your fingers find home in his palm before closing his fist around yours.

“mick, we’re okay,” you reassure. “but we can’t do this again.”

he nods again, swallowing deeply. “i understand.”

and you leave it at that.

the ride home is silent and tense but not awkward. things are never awkward with mick. he parks in your driveway before getting out of the car to open your door. you step out of the car with a thank you and stop in front of him. it’s still raining heavily, so he goes to pull the beanie he gave you further down your head, but stops halfway to rest his palms on your cheeks.

“can i have a hug?”

and with mick’s hands cradling your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks, deep blue eyes staring into yours, you have no choice but to nod, and he practically falls into your hold, arms dropping to wrap around your waist and keep himself steady. “nothing more.”

“then i just need this,” he mumbles into your neck. but you know it’s more than that, so you just hold him. you feel his body loosen as he relaxes, breaths evening out. he emanates warmth and goodness and-

“it’s getting late,” he groans, tearing himself off you. “i have to go.”

you don’t want him to, you’d much rather stay wrapped up in this moment forever. wrapped up in him forever. but you know better so you just nod. “okay. okay.”

he leans forward as though to kiss you, but you flatten a hand to his chest. “mick…” you warn lowly.

his eyes soften before he whispers an apology and presses a light, barely there kiss to your cheek. he moves to reach behind you and get your things, then hesitates for a second.

and then his lips are crashing to yours in a desperate kiss, and he’s telling you every i’m sorry, i love you, it’s okay through it. it’s frantic and passionate and everything you’ve loved about him since you first met him. so you grip onto his jacket, pressing into his body as much as you possibly can, savouring the moment because you know you’re never going to have another like it.

he pulls away first, resting his forehead on yours, before handing you your things, even going so far as to tugging your jacket tighter around your body. so my girl doesn’t get sick.

even though you’re just in your driveway, two steps away from warmth, you’d stay standing in the pouring rain just to keep his hands on you longer.

“i’ll see you around, yeah?” his hand is warm in yours when he holds it for the last time, tightening his fingers as though it would meld your bodies together and you’d never have to be separated again. and then mick is pulling away from you one last time, his face unreadable, and his smile never quite reaching his eyes.

the rain starts to come down harder, soaking you cold to the bone, and you turn around, making a beeline for your front door. you’d never say it out loud but you’re glad it rained - it’s the only thing that keeps you from running right back into his arms.

it’s harder to move on from him this time.

months later, no matter how hard you try, that night never slips from your memory. you can recall every brush of his fingertips against yours, the calloused pad of his thumb on your skin, and the heavy weight of his hand on your thigh when you two finally became comfortable again in each other’s presence. the way his voice changed and his laughter erupted whenever you smiled at him is engraved into your brain, and you’re sure the way he kissed you became your lifeline.

most of all, you remember the way his face fell when you pushed him away again, his dejected sigh as he accepted your decision, blue eyes electric with so many words left unspoken as you turned away one last time.

but the one thing you desperately try to forget is the way he lingered in the driveway, waiting for you to come back.

—

author’s note: thank youuuu @disneyprincemuke i don’t know how i feel about this but i hope i didnt disappoint

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pleaseultraviolenceme

6 months ago

❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

day 04: christmas sweater — sebastian vettel x reader

song rec: no one noticed - the marias

“hold me, console me.”

note: sorry if i skipped 3 days i had an exam. this one has a little bit of smut by the end

fluffcember masterlist | main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Sebastian rubbed his gloved hands together., shivering inside his jacket, as the two of you closed the door of his house.

“Damn, it was cold! But we had fun, right?” You smiled at him. Sebastian was your best friend. He got out of a toxic relationship just before Christmas and you really wanted to make him feel better.

“Right.” He returned the smile, but you could sense still a bit of sorrow behind his joyful tone. He took off his outside clothes and hanged them on the coat hook. He was wearing a white sweater, embroidered with little deers, trees and bells. It was the cutest sweater you’ve ever seen. “I’ll make some tea. Do you want some?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

You two sat on the bed, put some tv on and drank your tea. As you were silently watching a movie, you couldn’t help but cast looks on his afflicted expression. You really couldn’t see him like that, it was breaking your heart. “Seb, tell me what’s going on.”

He shifted his ocean blue eyes on you. “What do you mean?”

“You know you don’t need to fake with me.”

He sighed, lowering his gaze. You put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m really sorry for your break-up. It must be hard.”

He shook his head. “It’s not only that. She really was the worst and I don’t regret leaving her. I just…” He fidgeted with his empty cup of tea, a bit embarrassed for what he was about to say. “I just feel lonely sometimes. My friends are all back in Germany and my family too. You know I don’t see them that often.”

You nodded, and put a hand above his to stop his fidgeting. It was cold, as you’ve been playing outside in the snow. You stroked it slowly. “I understand. You don’t have to feel ashamed of that. You know I’ll always be here for you.”

Seb finally showed his genuine gummy smile that always made you melt. “Thank you, Y/N, it means a lot. The same goes for me.” He put his cup on the bedside table. “I wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind.”

You did the same with your cup. “At all.”

He hid his hands in the sleeves of the sweater. “Would you mind if I asked you to cuddle with me?”

The look in your eyes after the question must have been very shocked, because he started panicking, getting up suddenly. “You can say no, don’t feel forced, of course. I meant as friends, of course.”

“No, wait–“ You really didn’t know what to answer. Of course you wanted to cuddle with him, but what if he thought you were into him? Because you weren’t. You weren’t, right? Besides, friends cuddle all the time. You two used to do that when you were kids, why would it be any different now? “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

Seb’s worried expression relaxed again. He lay back on the bed, his head on the pillow, as you scooped closer. You let him wrap his arms around you. His hold was strong and gentle at the same time. You nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, your hands gripping the soft wool of his sweater. He smelled like wood and fresh snow.

Sebastian hummed. “You’re so warm. It was freezing outside.”

“I think I can help with that.” You slid your hands under his sweater, feeling his long back twitch slightly under your touch.

A little moan of satisfaction escaped him, a sound that would be engraved in your mind forever. “Thank you, Y/N. I wish I could stay like this forever.” He placed a kiss on your bare neck. It was tender, but you felt the wetness of it, as if he had licked his lips before. You had to hold back not to quiver.

“Me too.”

You stayed in that position for what felt like hours, exchanging caresses and little kisses. Well, obviously it wouldn’t be the last time.

76 notes View Post

pleaseultraviolenceme

1 year ago