Something Out Of My Dreams | Luke Castellan

Please Look Back

Jannik Sinner x Reader An accompaniment piece to a previous break up blurb, the same, but in Jannik's POV.

---

He told himself it was the right decision.

It had to be. He needed to give everything to this—this version of his life where everything mattered, where every match had weight, where every margin could mean the difference between winning and fading. He had plans. Goals. A career on the rise, to maintain, and not a second to spare.

He loved you, he had for months. That wasn’t the problem.

It was that he loved you too much to do it halfway. And lately, everything outside of tennis felt like it had to come second tier. His schedule, his focus, the way his mind wandered in the middle of matches or practice to whether you’d landed your flight or gotten out that game or had a bad day that you'd tell him about later. He’d scroll through your texts before bed, smile at them before your hour-long calls. He’d wake up thinking about you, and he couldn’t afford to start his days already distracted. And you didn’t deserve to be deemed a distraction.

He decided before he even knew it, and he never truly wanted it to happen the way it did—to have the comfort of loving you feel like a leaden weight beginning to be too much to bear. But he couldn’t keep burying it. It wasn’t fair to you. 

He didn’t voice his uncertainties in the month that they had come up, didn’t discuss the dilemma with you. Selfishly, he knew you could convince him to stay without much effort at all, so, silently, he convinced himself he had to let you go.

Then he ended it—and you couldn't have seen it coming.

He sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped, and forced the words out with a steadiness he didn’t feel.

"I can’t do both right now. You and tennis. I need to give everything to this." It was a wonder his voice didn’t crack. It felt like someone else entirely was speaking through him.

He almost wanted you to fight him on it—he held his breath for it. For you to yell, cry, anything. But you just nodded. Even smiled. Told him you understood.

That was the part that gutted him. The grace.

You left his room like something hadn’t just broken for good between the two of you, and so he thought maybe nothing had—maybe not for you. 

He just sat there, staring at the door long after it clicked shut.

For weeks afterward, he kept waiting for it to feel easier. But the pain never let up.

He trained harder than ever. Played with a new kind of desperation, letting the training of the off-season take up all of his conscious space in his mind. Slept longer because all his waking hours seemed to be filled with missing you. The quiet in his room felt wrong. Your absence echoed in the smallest details—two toothbrushes still by the sink, the way he reached for his phone before bed, forgetting there was no longer someone on the other side waiting to laugh and drift off with him.

His phone lit up with notifications that weren’t from you. His victories felt smaller without your hand to squeeze after the last point. He scrolled through pictures he hadn’t deleted yet and told himself it was for the best. That he’d done what needed to be done.

Still, the ache didn’t dull. It just settled deeper.

And it threatened to rip out of him at Melbourne.

He spotted you from across the walkway to the warm-up courts. Even before your face came to view, he could read it was you from the way you walked. The way you carried your bag. The way the air stilled inside his chest, and the way your name sat just inside his lips.

You were walking toward him, with no clean way to avoid it. Not that he wanted to—not really—but he hesitated when he thought maybe you did. But you continued towards him, ever so casual.

And, god, you looked good. Strong. Steady. Like you hadn’t missed a step.

But when your eyes met, he saw a flicker. Just a flash of something soft and sad, the same thing he felt blooming low and constant in his chest.

You stopped in front of him and he offered a smile, though it felt foreign on his face.

"Hey." He started, afraid to hear your voice in response—he wasn’t sure he could take it, he clenched his fists in the material of his pockets.

With a polite, practiced smile, you replied easily. "Hi." 

And he did feel himself give out a bit when you spoke, he had to hold in a sharp exhale at the familiar sound. But he didn’t manage to hold back the way he stepped towards you after you spoke, though he opened his arms to cover up the action—hoping the offer of a casual embrace wasn’t going too far.

You accepted, and the hug was brief. Just enough to feel the shape of you again, to remind him how little time had done to lessen the pull.

He wanted to ask something, anything. About everything, maybe. But he didn’t know how to start the words, or if he had the right to at all. 

You continued instead. "How’s training going?"

"Good. Busy." Always thinking of you when I’m not, he nodded the thought away. "You?"

​​"Yeah, same here." And it sounded forced to Jannik, but he figured he couldn’t claim to know that anymore.

You looked composed. Confident. Even sounded cheerful. Like you’d rebuilt something in the months since. He didn’t want to knock that down or assume otherwise just to soothe the ache still sitting in his own chest.

Another pause. You glanced through him and behind him, and he resisted turning to follow your gaze and see what it was that held your attention—hoping it wasn’t going to pull you away from him too soon, no matter how stunted and awkward the reunion was. 

Then you sort of took a step back. "I should probably get back to it. First match tomorrow.”

The run-in was wrapping up too quickly for Jannik, but it seemed you’d decided it was over. He wasn’t about to keep you when you so clearly wanted to walk away, so he decided to let you go a second time and, impossibly, it felt just as hard. His response was brief and concise. "Yeah. I saw. Good draw."

And he hoped it didn’t come off rude and choppy, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. The truth of it was, he’d checked your line-up in the tournament before his own. The way he always used to.

You nodded pleasantly, and stepped to the side of him. "Good to see you, Jannik. Take care."

He breathed in deep as you walked past him to continue on, trying to soothe himself and catch the scent of you at the same time. And when he saw you were smiling at him as you passed his shoulder, he hesitated. He wanted to say, Wait. To ask how you really were. To tell you he missed you. That nothing had felt the same since you left.

But the words caught in his throat. What could he even say? That he’d made a mistake? That he would think about you every time he passed by the quiet corner in the player dining where you'd always steal five minutes the last year, when you had just met? That seeing you now only confirmed what he'd tried to deny? None of that would do. For so many reasons.

So he swallowed hard and nodded once more instead. "You too." 

And he had to wrench his head away from you to let you go.

Every step you took away from him felt like something was falling apart all over again. He turned back to look at you, hoping that maybe you would too. So he could at least get another look at you. 

But he watched you walk away all the way until you disappeared from his sight, and you never once broke your stride. Never once turned back.

And how could he stop you—just because he was still hurting watching you leave?

He knew he was the one who asked you to go in the first place, that you’d gone in peace, and—though he’d been stuck in a hurting battle with himself ever since—he knew wanting more and being justified in asking for it were two very different things. And, really, he wasn’t entitled to either. Not anymore.

---

Okay fast turn over, but I was feeling inspired for it. Lowkey don't think I've even fully written from Jannik's POV and it was fun—especially when having something to reference. Actually proud of how it pairs side to side with the other, so if you want to flip back and forth between them to check it out, feel free... xx

goddamn.

bbg is serving cunt

You asked for blurb ideas & that thought here got stuck in my mind since this morning 🌞

Tennis Reader “thanking” Art after their training session in the locker rooms. ;)

Reader sneaks in men’s locker room after training together till evening, surprising (Stanford) Art under the shower + asking for some steamy extra cardio. 👀

And eventually Patrick walks in. Idk abt that but whatever you write is amazing, in every trope 🫶🏻

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (hj, fingering, p in v), throuple dynamics (+1)

A/N: Ok I’m sorry I know you said Stanford but 2019 era Art is ALLLL I can think about 🩷 forgive me for my transgressions pls

Tashi had set the whole thing up, holding his hand through it. Because Tashi and Patrick were off globetrotting for the tour— France, if he remembered correctly. Tashi just wanted to make sure he was taken care of, that his needs were being met. In his career… and otherwise.

You were a player out of… USC? He thought that sounded right. Recently graduated, doing well in the pros, already highly ranked with an excellent record. The perfect first player for Art Donaldson to coach.

She set up the entire thing, met with you to get things organized, and penciled training into his calendar with a tiny note.

Have fun without us -T

You were doing such a good job, even unwittingly— putting on the sweetest little show for him. When you’d miss a serve or a ball went out of bounds, you’d do a peppy little jog then bend over to grab it, completely unaware of the effect it might have had on him.

“I need to see how you play,” he had said as you dropped your bag on the side of the court. You smiled and nodded, and took to the opposite side of the net.

He beat you embarrassingly easily the first set. Sweat was beading on your forehead as you met him at the benches between courts and guzzled down water. When you finally came up for air, a little trail of water went from your plush bottom lip and down your chin.

He watched you lick the moisture from your lips, then wipe at the rest with the back of your hand. He swallowed hard.

“Do you want my advice?” He scratched at the back of his neck as you peered up at him expectantly. “You need to loosen up, you’re too tense.”

Your eyes widened at his direction, but you nodded. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Donaldson.” You drank down another gulp, then jogged back to the other side of the court, eager to please.

He watched you bend over, retrieving a couple of balls that you’d hit into the net, flashing tiny white spandex beneath your tennis skirt.

Jesus Christ, Tashi was evil.

By the afternoon, sweat dripped down your arms, along the line of your throat, dampened the baby hairs framing your face and the back of your neck, tacking them down to sticky skin.

“Why don’t we head to the locker rooms inside, then we can meet upstairs and go through a training plan.”

You smiled, looking so sweet and eager. “Okay.”

He was grateful for the shower— molten against aching, underused muscles. He hadn’t exactly just given up on everything after retiring, but his muscles weren’t being used the way they were used to— the constant strenuous training.

He closed his eyes, letting the spray hit his face and soak into his skin.

He heard a squeak and jumped, eyes flying open to the sight of you naked underneath one of the other shower heads, quickly adjusting the spray from ice cold to steaming hot.

“Turned it to cold on accident,” you said over your shoulder. “Women’s locker rooms are under maintenance. You don’t mind, right?”

He turned, cheeks burning pink as he tried his best to play it cool— act like he wasn’t checking you out. “No, uh, it’s fine.”

Were you in on it with Tashi? It certainly felt like it as he watched you lathering your body up with soap, maybe focusing too much attention to your tits.

You glanced over, caught him looking, and smiled. He turned away quickly with his pulse thrumming in his throat.

Fuck. He was already hard. It wasn’t exactly a surprise— he’d been half-hard just at the sight of you in that fucking outfit on the court.

He heard you laugh and looked back at you. You were looking right at him, amusement evident in your expression. “She said you’d be easy, but, Jesus, I thought you’d put up more of a fight.” 

You shut off the water of your shower and made your way over. Water dripped from your body, rolling down your skin in delicate rivulets. You stopped in front of him and ran a hand down his chest, making him shiver.

“Tashi told you?” His words trailed off into a groan as your hands moved between his legs, stroking the length of him in your delicate grasp.

“She told me to say thank you after every lesson,” you said. With each step forward you made, he took a step back, until you had him pinned against the cold tile. He moaned as your thumb ran over the tip of his cock, and you smile sweetly. “She showed me exactly how I should do it.”

“Showed you?”

You sped your hand up, twisting slightly with each tug upwards. “Mhmm. On Patrick. She went first, then I showed her what I learned.” You laughed softly, lips brushing along his jaw. “I’m a very fast learner. Patrick was very impressed.”

Fuck, he was going to get back at Tashi for not letting him be there for that. The mental image was enough to make his cock pulse in your grip. Maybe he’d just have you recreate it for him the second Tashi and Patrick came home.

Your lips brushed along the like of his jaw as you continued to jerk him off, your hand slick and tight and relentless. Just like Tashi’s would be. God, you really were a fast learner.

It would certainly make being your coach a lot easier.

“Art,” you hummed, breath hot against his ear. He nodded wordlessly, almost afraid that if he spoke, he’d wake up from a fugue state to find out that he’d just imagined it all and was mid-jerk off session.

Your lips moved against his throat, nipping gently at the expanse of soft skin. He tasted like sweat and tap water. Your words came out as a whisper, “You can fuck me now.”

He laughed shakily, flushed red down to his chest. “Now? You don’t want me to go down on you, or—“

He was cut off when you grabbed his hand and moved it between your legs. Dripping wet, silky soft, absolutely aching for him.

You moaned softly, leaning fully onto him for support as he rubbed at your clit. “T-Tashi—“ You stammered, losing that seductive bravado you’d walked in with. “Told me I should make you work for it. But, fuck—”

Art laughed softly. “You’re too needy.”

“Do you know how fucking sexy you sound when you play tennis?” You whined, breath going shaky as he pushed a finger inside of your aching cunt. “Halfway through the second set, I— god— I considered dropping the pretense and fucking you right on the— on the court.”

Tashi wouldn’t have that. When she came home, she’d clock that impatience train it out of you. She’d make you sit and watch, get so desperate you’d beg and cry for it. She had to do it to Patrick before— she would know just how to get you to the point she needed you at.

The tennis would be up to Art.

You were so wet, clenching around his finger, craving more. What the fuck would be the point in denying either of you any longer?

You whined when he moved his hand from you, but he wasn’t going to keep you waiting. He pinned you against the cold tile wall, lifting you up to where he needed. You smiled at him,wrapping your legs around his waist, coaxing him closer.

A shiver ran through you as his cock brushed over your folds— so close to where you needed him. His tip notched against your entrance and he pressed into you slowly, relishing in the way you held your breath, in the way your body opened up for him so eagerly.

He pressed his forehead against yours when he bottomed out, and you panted as you adjusted to him.

You were impatient. So fucking impatient. You rocked your hips against him, begging wordlessly for more. He leaned in, kissing you slowly.

“Art,” you gasped, pulling away from the kiss as he fucked into you, slow and deep. “Patrick told me that I should tell you that you’re supposed to fuck me, not make love to me.”

Of fucking course he did. “Is that what you want?”

You nodded, somehow looking so sweet split open on his cock. His hips met yours in a particularly harsh thrust and you cried out in surprise. You moaned so seeetly, your lips turned up in a smug grin. It was exactly what you wanted.

Your back slid against the slick tile wall as he drove into you again and again and again. Your cunt was so warm, and tight, and so fucking wet if squelched obscenely with each thrust.

Wet kisses were peppered along his jaw and throat along with soft murmured thank yous and praise.

“You’re so deep, Art,” you moaned into his ear. “Feels so good. Thank you, thank you.”

It had been a week since Tashi and Patrick were home. A week of having to find satisfaction with Patrick’s fucking lewd Snapchat videos and his hand.

And here you were— a sweet, tight, Tashi-approved plaything. Your manicured nails rubbing at your clit, your pussy clamping around his cock as you drew closer and closer to the edge.

What better foreplay was there than tennis?

You came first, which was a fucking Godsend. He had no doubt Tashi would’ve flayed him if she found out that he couldn’t even manage to get his new toy off before he did. Loud— not caring if anyone heard.

Tashi would train that out of you too, lest you get them banned from every fucking country club in the state. Or a TMZ article whispering about a tawdry affair.

He shut you up with a hungry, searing kiss. Tongue moving against yours, muffling your cries. He came buried as deep as he could possibly get, with his tongue shoved down your throat and his grip bruising your soft thighs.

The water had gone icy when you both detached from each other, finally taking the actual shower you needed. You happily shared a shower head since you’d wasted enough water as is.

You redressed, tied up your wet hair, and sat on a bench, tapping away at your phone while he did his best to look presentable, and not like he’d just fucked the athlete he was supposed to be coaching.

“Tashi and Patrick say hi,” you said casually, offering a killer smile.

Maybe retirement wasn’t that bad.

NEED to be the toxic triplets’ little plaything im clawing at the padded walls of my enclosure

Anywayssss feel free to send more blurb reqs 🩷

shapes of you - s.v5

this is being created because I was telling @timetoracewrites​ about the different shapes of seb and now I’m making this post – also because anytime I see that man, I go 🥰Seb🥰

anyways nsfw under the cut as always whores <3

Keep reading

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!

header via pinterest

Keep reading

Fics that defined my love of f1 rpf

In celebration of literally nothing actually, i bring you a fic rec list of some of my favourites!!! very condensed (100+ -> 15 not even including tumblr fics) and im kinda sad i cant put all of my favs down lol but these are like my must reads!!

pleaseeee read these if u havent already its all amazing even if you dont vibe with the ships themselves

Strollonso:

silver platter by atwater | E | 9k

Literally the first fic I've ever read and basically got me into this fandom (and ship). Theyre both so unhinged and amazing it's a very fun read. Probably the best written lance ive every read.

Make Sound by antimonyandthyme | E | 1k

Makes me so fucking insane no notes this is just amazing oh my god

I make two grand an hour by Kaytheologie | E | 3k

Literally so hot and so amazing. lance is so bitchy in this one is great. amazing writing and amazing premise, literally inspired me to sketch out something right after (might finish it at some point)

Sewis:

provenance by ecorone | M | 18K

Literally the fic that introduced and made me fall in love with sewis. it wrecked me like i still havent recovered at all. the writing itself is just, i vibe to it so much

The Numbering at Bethlehem by Kaytheologie | E | 26k

might be one of my favourite fics, ever. what a masterpiece genuinely the environment is just so immersive and lush. ive reread it a dozen time and it never gets old

Brocedes:

you're my purple candy high by nothoughtsjustvibes | M | 5k

baby's first brocedes 🥹 started my love affair with emotional destruction. ruined me when i just first read it and ruined me every time after that. The writing is so profound and laid out their tragedy bare.

the torture of small talk with someone you used to love by finedae | T | 2k

baby's first nico fic!! it also destroyed me!! i think this is the one that made me join f1br bc i was just so obsessed with the writing i needed to know what the author was like lol.

3344:

special research vessels by ecorone | M | 15k

listen i thought this ship wouldve been more popular than it is LOL or at least not as hated. regardless, i love this fic so much. I love the environment, I love the dialogue, the characterization, everything. It's just such an amazing reading experience

matchstick people by ecorone | E | 60k

if you havent noticed by now, im obsessed with this author. the prose, the characterizations, how beautifully the magical realism of it all was realized. horror as a genre is so underutilized in fanfics as a whole but when its done, its done amazingly. love love love

Others:

crude generalisations and vulgar simplifications by crescenteluce | E | 14k | Alexander Albon/George Russell

This fic is THE galex fic for me. it so funny and the writing is so witty its just fun to read. love the way the environment is constructed and it everything just feels so real. amazing

it's more than I can bear: this interminable want, turning and turning. by Anonymous | E | 2k | Fernando Alonso/George Russell

The vibes are rancid, the ships are niche, the writing is good. what more do you need? i love reading this and i love thinking about this.

Amen by sirius | M | 9k | Fernando Alonso/Lewis Hamilton

THE ferwis fic is my mind and mad me unreasonably obsessed with this ship. its so well written- like i love the characterization so much it makes me insane.

on golden sands bysionisjaune | T | 6k | Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg/Sebastian Vettel

Listen, this and the ships that go sailing are both just amazingly entertaining fics. its objectively such a good read and i enjoy spending my time reading it. its just so fun!

steal the air out of my lungs (make me feel it) by nahco3 | E | 26K | Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

My favourite medical au fic!! ever!!! everything is just so well realized and the characterization is just spot on!! love everything about this fic and nothing i say can fully explain how amazing this fic is!!!

Shutter Speed byantimonyandthyme | E | 18k | Sebastian Vettel/Mark Webber

got me into photography lol. made me purchase my first actual camera. dont know what else to say its just that amazing

After seeing that video that you qrted of Lewis and Toto in the paddock I realized I can't focus on anything else when his ARMS are just there. so i was thinking if you could write smth where reader works for merc/a job that puts her close to toto everyday and they often have team meetings but reader can't focus on anything else other than his arms. HANDS. and maybe his big ass watch 🤭 thx nat 🥰

the mind is a very strong thing, huh?

filthy

Dropping the material on the table, you let out a long sigh. You had already lost count of how many times you had sat in that room in the last two years, especially to talk about problems. And they were not few.

Slowly, the seats around the table were occupied, the sound of metal scraping on the floor of the room along with the mumbled greetings without much enthusiasm. There was no reason to be excited, not when another year had been thrown in the trash. Looking at your phone, you no longer remembered the topic you were talking about with your friend, the message you had started typing completely losing its meaning.

Then, a voice made you look up, a shy smile on your lips.

— Good morning, everyone — your boss said, as he went to the chair he usually occupied, near the flat screen on which the silver star shone. His eyes took in the way he greeted one of the employees with a smile and a hand on the shoulder.

However, as he sat down, a hiss escaped his lips.

— Is there a problem, Mr. Wolff? — you asked, almost without realizing it.

— Oh, no, it's just the knee that's still bothering me a little.

— The surgery didn't work?

— Yes, it worked, you just need to move it a little to strengthen it and it's a little painful, actually — he replied, smiling — But I appreciate your concern, Y/N. It's very kind of you.

You felt your face heat up, as you returned the smile.

The meeting began shortly after that short exchange of words between you, but your mind was still at that moment, on the sweet words, on his smile. That was the power Toto Wolff had over you. And you couldn't help but feel that way, especially when he was around.

He had enchanted you since the first time those brown eyes had met yours. His smile lit up any room, almost like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. His playful, almost boyish personality made something warm inside your chest, making you feel something you hadn't felt in a long time.

It was completely wrong, you knew. But, you couldn't help it.

You desired your boss.

— This is our chance to consolidate Lewis and the team in second place in the constructors — Toto said, gesturing with his hands in order to emphasize his own words — We couldn't do much in Japan, but this is the time to fight.

You weren't absorbing anything from that meeting. With one hand on your chin, you only had eyes for him and the way he moved his hands, as well as his serious tone, which made his skin tingle in a delicious way. You would do anything to be touched by those fingers, to feel them slide across your skin, leaving a trail of flames and desire along the way.

— The circuit was resurfaced, we're still not sure about the wear and tear — someone said next to you, but you didn't make a point of looking in its direction. Not when your mind drew a racy, not to say indecent, image involving the man scribbling something on the notepad in front of him.

It could be anywhere, even there. Toto wouldn't need to say much to have you in his hands, literally. Sitting on the conference table, it wouldn't take long for him to realize what you needed. And he would give it willingly, his breath hot against your ear.

His hand would slide up your black dress until it found the spot between your legs, hot and pulsing for attention, for stimulation, for him. Brushing his fingers lightly against your clit, still covered by your panties, making you moan softly.

— So needy — Toto would murmur, before pulling away the fabric and slowly inserting two fingers into your pussy, moving them slowly, as if he was discovering what you liked.

Just by looking in his eyes, you would make it clear that that rhythm was not enough, nor that the position of the fingers was correct. You needed him to bend them slightly, to brush against the spot you couldn't reach when you were alone, but that you were sure he was capable of.

— Toto — his name would escape your lips like a plea.

— More? — he would ask quietly, with a provocative smile. By nodding positively, the smile would grow — Ask me, schatz. Ask me and I'll give it to you.

— Please — you would murmur — Faster.

— Good girl…

The pace would go from something slow and almost torturous to something relentless, the wet sound that escaped your pussy would fill the room, along with your moans. Using the base of his hand, he would massage your clitoris without much delicacy, trying to take you to the place you wanted so much and had already reached so many times with those brown eyes in mind.

— Fuck, yes, yes, yes, yes — you would whimper, your fingers squeezing his shoulders tightly, as if that were possible to keep you there, savoring that pleasure you had waited so long for.

— Yes, let me feel your pussy squeezing my fingers, schatz — Toto would growl, as his hand continued to move against you, causing your legs to shake and your eyes to roll back.

The explosion was so close, so close. There was little left, just a few seconds.

And then…

— Y/N, how are the updated parts for Austin? — Toto asked.

Blinking, you came back to reality, feeling your skin too hot and your cheeks red. You had definitely gone too far.

— Ah, yes, the parts — you stuttered, looking for that information in your notes, feeling like a complete idiot for having let yourself be carried away by your own imagination — Yeah, so, they were...

— You know what, we'll talk about this after the meeting in my office, okay?

Your heart skipped a beat.

— Perfect.

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! i was wondering if i could request something for joe burrow? specifically a smut request of angry jealous sex 🤭

❝don't blame me❞ - joe burrow x reader

─⋆♡ an: based on this ask & don't blame me by taylor swift. hopefully, it's angry enough. y'all know i'm all sunshine, rainbows, and fluff. unedited so ignore any mistakes. i hope y'all enjoy. ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

─⋆♡ summary: joey gets jealous at a nightclub and shows you who you belong to.

─⋆♡ warnings: overstimulation, softdom!joey, smut, angst, 18+ black!writer, language, alcohol, D!NC, physical descriptors (brief), choking, spitting, claiming, rough smut, anal play, unprotected sex (i do not condone irl, wrap before you tap).

The music in the club vibrates through the bar beneath as the bartender refills the glasses with more tequila. I suck on the lime I plucked from behind the bar before listing the second round of shots. Just before I clink the glass with my best friend, she pauses. I open my mouth to ask her if everything is okay just to make sure, but I feel a hand on my waist before I do. 

She notices me freezing and looks behind me. “It’s just Joe,” she reassures before taking the second shot.

Setting my still-full glass down, I slowly turn around until Joe’s seafoam irises meet mine. “Hey, baby. You want to take a shot with us?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He shakes his head in response, squeezing my ass slightly. “If I drink, who’s going to make sure you get home?”

Bobbing to the music, I close my eyes feeling the tequila coursing through my veins. Turning around, I push my back into his crotch, lazily grinding on him. “I’m just trying to make sure you have fun. Besides, you never get drunk with me.”

He bends down, pressing a kiss on my neck. “And there’s a reason for that,” he murmurs against my skin.

He pushes me forward until I'm bending over the bar counter. “Whatever you say. You know you can't deny my persuasive ways.” 

I turn my head as he watches me grind on his growing bulge. After a few moments, I become eager to chat with Joe again. “Come dance with me,” I demand.

His hand snakes up the side of my body until it’s wrapped around my throat. “I don’t dance,” he growls in my ear.

I smile at his teasing, meeting his blazing dark eyes. After all, he always knew just what made me tick. “Well come be creepy and stand behind me while I twerk on you. Protect me from weird men,” I retort but he doesn’t budge.

My eyes flicker back and forth between his and when I realize he’s dead serious, I roll my eyes. Fed up with his bullshit, I dart into onto the crowded dance floor. My focus goes to a tall man who has been eyeing me the entire night. My finger curls, beckoning him over to me and he stalks over with a smirk on his face. “You’re cute. Dance with me,” I demand and he smiles, wrapping his hands around my body.

He practically humps me like a dog as we move through the crowd towards the dance floor. I flash one more mischievous smile at Joe before locking hands with the stranger and dancing with enough respectful space between us.

I’m surprised to find that he’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’s able to keep up with every step, seemingly anticipating my movements. I smile at him and he slides his hand up my waist, pulling me into his body. “You’re really hot,” he bends down and shouts over the music in my ear.

“I know,” I yell back in his ear. “I have a boyfriend,” I break the news to him.

He shrugs, seemingly not caring about my relationship status. “I don’t see him,” he counters, looking around.

My eyes survey the room after him, finding Joe cutting through the shadows to get over to me. When he stands in the spotlight, I see a clear detailed outline of his clenched jaw. “I’ll take it from here,” he grits.

The man looks up at my ridiculously huge boyfriend, scurrying away like a pussy in a heartbeat. My eyes squint at Joe and I put my hand on my hip. “Jealous?” I ask him.

Joe forcefully wraps his hand around my throat, pulling me closer to his face. “Nothing to be jealous of,” he seethes.

I lick my bottom lip, feeling an electric buzz in my brain from his grip on me. He seemingly notices how tight his hold is, releasing me and rubbing my neck. “Good. I know where home is,” I joke before pulling him towards another spot in the club.

I see his head fall back when he laughs, but the closer we get to the music, the more I’m unable to hear the sweet sound leave his lips. Turning around, I put his arm over my shoulder. Once we’re closer to the DJ stand, Joe grabs my hips and pulls me back into his chest. My hair goes wild in front of the big fan, and I push it out of my face. Liquid courage fills me, and I slowly start moving my hips to the music. Once I find my rhythm, I notice Joe moving in sync with me. 

“I thought you said you can’t dance,” I tilt my head and shout up to him. 

He bends down, licking a stripe up my neck. “I said I don’t dance. Never said I couldn’t,” he challenges, pushing me over until I put my hands on my knees.

My ass moves around in a circle over his bulge. Suddenly, he grabs my hips, pressing into me. I gasp as he ghosts my entrance with his clothed dick. “If you keep doing that, you’re going to have to give me an orgasm.” 

He smacks my ass as I continue dancing on him. “You don’t deserve one after that stunt you pulled. But maybe you can earn it back,” he growls, and my eyes go wide. So this is jealous Joe. He’s basically normal Joe, but his obsession with me has turned up to level 10.

We continue dancing in this position for a couple more songs, and I enjoy the feeling of his hands on me. This is the first time I’ve been in the club with him since his off-season is rare. It feels oddly freeing to know he’d hurt someone for me–to know I’m protected no matter what. 

The sound of him rapping behind me reaches my ears. “What do you know about this song, white boy?” I giggle. 

The song starts to change, and I turn around to face him. He presses me back until I’m trapped in between the wall and him. “I’m six years older than you, angel. I’ve had 6 years to go to clubs without you. I practically own this place. I know the music,” he states, running a thumb over my lips. 

His lips attack mine, and I moan into his mouth. The taste of alcohol lingers on his tongue as it wrestles with mine for dominance. My cunt is practically sizzling like an Applebee’s fajita, and I’m left breathless from the kiss. 

“Well, excuse me,” I stammer, trying to pull his lips back down to mine.

He pauses just before our lips touch, leaving me dizzy and ready to beg for him. “We’re going somewhere,” he breathes, turning around to drag me through the crowd.

I’m practically bouncing like an energizer bunny when we pass my best friend dancing with a random man. They watch us curiously and I shrug, trying not to trip on my own two feet as Joe swiftly leads us into the hall towards the bathroom. 

He forcefully pushes the girls' bathroom door open, making it slam into the wall. “Everybody get the fuck out,” he demands of the women standing at the mirror. 

They all scowl, but ultimately tuck their makeup back into their purses and scurry out of the room. As the bathroom empties out, he checks the stalls to make sure no one is still in there, then locks the main door. 

“You can’t just take away a girl's ability to pee for this,” I giggle as he stalks over to me.

“I can and I am,” he responds, not giving me time to respond again before his lips crush mine. 

His cold fingers trail up the inside of my thighs, sending shivers up my spine. A finger ghosts over my underwear and he puts pressure on my clit. “Fuck,” I moan into his mouth, and he bites my bottom lip. Suddenly, I remember this is the only girls' bathroom in the club and the guilt hits me. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” 

Our lips disconnect, and he swiftly lifts me on the counter, smirking. “I’m going to have what’s mine before you walk back out those doors.”

He drops to his knees in between my legs, gripping the underside of my thighs, and pulls me towards the edge of the counter. 

I’m spread out perfectly for him, and his breath ghosts over my clothed pussy. “Relax, angel. I’m gonna take care of you,” he hushes.

He stands, pushing my shoulders back so my upper body is vulnerable to him. He slowly unbuttons my shirt before diving in; kissing my chest and pulling my nipple into his mouth. He uses his tongue to swirl around my nipple, nipping at it slightly. I squirm and his grip around my waist tightens. His kisses slowly start trailing lower and lower, my anticipation increasing with each one. 

“Shit, Joey,” I whine, feeling his kisses finally reach the bottom of my stomach. He bunches up my skirt, hooking my panties around his fingers and pulling them down. 

I moan as he trails to the inside of my thighs at an agonizingly slow pace. “You like it, angel? Making me mad?” Joe looks up at me, his lips leaving sparks in his wake. He grips my legs again, bringing me out of my haze. 

“Fuck yes. Please, Joey.” I squirm under his grip.

He resumes kissing the inside of my thighs. “Please what, Angel? Use your words.” He hovers over my pussy, blowing hot air onto my clit, sending shivers through my body. Oh my god.

I’m so close to crying at the teasing that I cover my face with my hands. “Please eat me out,” I whisper, so low that I barely hear myself. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.

Joe grabs my hands, removing them from my face, threading them through his hair. I look at him, shocked. “You will look at me when I devour you, angel,” he orders. Then his hands return to the underside of my thighs, hooking my legs around his neck. 

He takes two fingers, rubbing circles on my clit, spreading my wetness around. “Already so fucking ready for me, angel.” His fingers disappear, and I gasp when I feel him lick a long strip from my opening to my clit. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans into my pussy.

Finally, he wraps his lips around my clit, sucking as he pushes two fingers inside me. His fingers curl, hitting that spot that makes me see stars. I grind onto them as he pumps them in and out of me. “Joey,” I groan into the empty void of the night.

His pace doesn’t relent as I arch my back, taking his fingers deeper. “That’s it, angel. Take what you need from me, sweet girl,” he coaxes, hovering over my pussy and looking up at me with lustful eyes. I feel him spit on my pussy, letting the wetness drip down to his fingers as he quickens his pace. 

The pleasure builds in my core, and I feel my whole body tightening as he brings me closer and closer to an orgasm. My legs start shaking and my fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his head down to grind against his tongue.

He moans and curls his fingers at the same time, and that tips me over the edge. My toes curl, and I see white as I let a loud cry leave my lips. I grip his hair so hard, I’m scared I’m going to pull it out. He doesn’t remove his fingers, continuing to slowly work me through my orgasm until I float back down to earth. 

I moan as he slowly retracts his fingers from my pussy. “Fuck, Joey,” I hiss, slightly sitting up to look down at his face. 

His smug smile appears as he brings his fingers up to his lips, sucking off my juices. “You taste so fucking sweet,” He sits up for a second, and lightly pushes my shoulder, making me fall back onto the mirror.

Lifting my legs again, he moves them so my thighs rest over his shoulders. His fingers return to my pussy, spreading my release around. “Again,” he demands, pushing three fingers into me this time with no warning. 

Groaning, my fingers lace into his hair again. My eyes roll into the back of my head at the sensation of his quick tongue flicking over my swollen and overstimulated bud.  “Joey, I can’t.” I shake my head. “I don’t think I can come again,” I plead, hoping he’ll release his grip on me.

His fingers increase their pace, in and out of me, curling to hit that spongy spot again. “Yes, you can. And you will,” he orders, returning his lips to my pussy and sucking my clit. 

I hear the squelching sound of his fingers fucking me, and my back arches off the mirror. The pleasure builds in my stomach for the second time, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming. 

Joey lifts his lips from my pussy for a moment, not slowing the pace of his fingers. “Come for me, angel. I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Fuck. I got you, I promise,” he whispers, then dives back in, lapping me up like I’m his last meal.

My second orgasm hits me like a truck as my vision goes blurry. My body feels like it’s floating off this planet and into a different space-time continuum. I hear him moaning into my pussy underneath me, and I grip his shoulder as he slows the pace of his thrusting. After I come back down to earth, he retracts his fingers again, licking another long strip up my pussy to gather my release on his tongue. He slowly rises from the ground, and I sit up, gripping for his body. Leaning down, he kisses me, and I can taste myself on his tongue. 

Wanting to return the favor, I reach for his belt buckle. But he grips my wrist, stopping me. “You better bend over and lift that skirt,” he growls.

I become giddy again, the guilt of occupying the bathroom dissipating. Quickly turning, I bend over the counter and pull up my skirt so he has a perfect view of my ass. 

“Fuck,” he groans, and I yip when his hand connects with my skin in a spank. My eyes watch as he pulls his zipper down, fumbling over himself. He’s absolutely enamored and practically drooling in the mirror when he takes his dick out.

His hand lets go of his dick and puts it under my lips. “Spit, angel,” he demands. 

Letting the spit dribble from my lips into his hand, I close my eyes and wait.

He rubs his tip through my fold and I bite my lips to keep a groan from slipping my lips. “Open your eyes and watch if you want me to keep going,” he rasps, and my eyes snap open. 

My jaw drops, and my breathing becomes erratic as he forcefully sinks into me. He pulls out slowly, before grabbing the bottom of his jersey and pulling it up so I can see his perfectly chiseled chest. Fuck. 

“You’re going to want to hold on to something, angel.” 

A smirk takes from his face as he puts the shirt in between his teeth to keep it up. Then, he roughly slams back into me, filling me to the brim and finding his rhythm. Immediately, his pace is relentless, and I grip the edge of the counter to keep from screaming. Damn. He wasn’t kidding when he said he would make this quick. 

My legs begin to shake as he drags his cock over my g-spot in the most delicious way. Incoherent babbles begin leaving my lips and his speed increases. 

“Show me whose dick you want, angel. Show me who you want to fuck you stupid,” he snarls, and I feel like I'm drowning in pleasure. My back arches, allowing him to get deeper, and my mouth opens in a silent moan. His roughness brings tears to my eyes, but I’ve never felt better.

A strained groan leaves my lips as he grabs my hips tighter and starts pulling me back until my ass slams into his hips as he drives into me. Not wanting him to do all the work, I begin moving my hips at the same pace as him. “That’s it. Show me what you can do,” he husks. 

My eyes roll into the back of my head when his tip kisses my cervix, and the sound of our skin slapping fills the room. 

Suddenly, someone begins pounding on the door and I gasp. Joe seemingly hears them too and increases his speed. I watch him in the mirror as his hands wrap around my curls, creating a makeshift ponytail. 

Another bang on the door rings through the bathroom, and he pulls my head back by my hair, slamming into me. “You better fucking cum, angel. Someone has to use the restroom,” he thunders in my ear.

My breathing becomes erratic, and I start to clench around him as he brings a thumb up to my lips. He sinks it into my mouth, collecting spit on his thumb, before slowly sinking it into my tight hole. My mouth falls open and I scream at the pressure. Oh my fucking god. 

The sound of my voice reverberates off the wall, but he doesn’t even flinch; just bites my shoulder, groaning as he works his thumb in and out of me. “Give it to me, angel. Give me what he can't give you,” he encourages. 

With his words and the feeling of his thumb and his cock driving into me, I topple over the edge. My knees buckle, and I swear I see a constellation of stars. My whole body quakes with fire as Joe fucks me through my orgasm, and his dark eyes meet mine in the mirror. He smiles at me unraveling for him.

Continuing to stroke me, he fills me up every time until I feel him twitching inside me. “Your turn,” I huff, smirking at him in the mirror. 

He shakes his head before his pace becomes unsteady. Thrusting into me one last time, he buries into me to the hilt, and I moan at the feeling of his hot ropes shooting inside me as he swirls his hips to brush over my g-spot. “You’re milking me so good, angel. God, you’re so good. I don’t deserve you,” he slurs, slowly pulling his thumb out. We take a second to catch our breaths, both of us panting and coming down. 

The sound of banging on the door brings me back to the present. “No. You don’t deserve me,” I giggle, and he slowly pulls his softening cock out of me. 

He stuffs his cock back into his underwear before pulling his jeans up and zipping his fly. Then, his attention turns to me. He readjusts my underwear, pulling my skirt back down over my ass. “You’re gonna walk around all night with my cum dripping out of you. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to control myself,” he mutters. 

I try my best to fix myself, looking in the mirror to adjust anything out of place. When I turn to face him, he’s already standing by the door, waiting to unlock it. 

“No more of that jealousy shit. Keep it in your pants until we get home. Okay?” I scold, pointing at his face.

The beginning of a smirk starts to form on his face as he unlocks the door and pulls it open. The noise of the club fills my ears again, and he puts his hands on the small of my back, pushing me out of the bathroom and into the hallway. 

Turning my head to the left, there are about 20 girls in line for the bathroom. “Finally,” they groan before filing in.

When I look at Joe, his signature smirk is covering the entirety of his face. My eyes narrow at him, daring him to protest my orders. “Scouts honor,” he promises, ushering me up to the VIP section.

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Wanna Join? - Callum Ilott & Mick Schumacher

A/N: All right, let’s quickly talk about this threesome, I hope this is what you had in mind when requesting this, anon.

Prompt B107– “wanna join?”

Warnings: Hint of fluff, smut, touching, kissing, mention of voyeurism, nudeness, threesome, explicit language, blowjob(s), unprotected sex(reader is on the pill), hair pulling/gripping, pet name(princess), light choking, dirty talking, cum swallowing, pussy slapping, overstimulation?, mention of several orgasms, creampie.

W/C: 2.3K

Age Warning: I will not take responsibility because you wanted to read this, but if you’re under the  age of 18+, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ. Do not take this as educational, this is fiction!

You and Mick had the cabin to yourself, or so you had hoped, you went to a resort with everyone and shared a cabin with a few drivers, and unfortunately, you also shared a room with one of the drivers, but luckily for the night, Callum had decided to go out with everyone, leaving you and Mick alone in the cabin, you were laying on the bed, kissing and touching each other, his hands were on your covered breasts while your hand was rubbing him through his shorts, you had both already showered and were in your nightwear, ready for a couples evening, but somehow the evening had slowly turned heated.

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