Latest Posts by pleaseultraviolenceme - Page 7

mick schumacher 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 by @stuffspaddock

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okay i’m gonna just shove it in ur inbox bc … havent stopped thinking about it but the post u reblogged about the skirt & about being fucked at dinner but w/ mick like …. i Need This

this + mick 🥵 // post

Silverstone has been good to your boyfriend.

His first points.

Everyone at Haas was beyond proud but no one more so than you. You stepped back, letting him bask in the feeling for a while, being congratulated by the whole time, doused in champagne.

Mick found you, picking you up in a bone crushing hug as he kissed all over your face. He finally kissed your lips, sticky and bitter like champagne but you could care less, the happiness trumped all other concerns.

“We have to celebrate tonight.” You tell him, walking him over for his team photo.

“of course we do.”

Mick’s idea of celebrating meant staying at the hotel and fucking every way to next Sunday.

He thought you two were on the same page, hence why he was slightly upset to be sitting in a restaurant with you.

You were making polite conversation with the waitress, telling her a little inside gossip about F1 — harmless stuff, Mick was sure but he had other motives.

His fingers trailed along your bare thigh under the table. Your skirt had slid up when you sat down beside him. The two of you at a booth, sitting side by side. The restaurant was fairly busy, mostly couples and a few families in between.

You ignore his touch, thanking the waitress for something she offered you as you sipped on your wine.

You nearly dropped the glass when Mick’s finger brushed against your clothed clit.

“Mick,” you breathe, glancing at him.

“Yeah darling ?” He asks causally, like his fingers weren’t doing sinful things to you under the table.

Mick pulls your panties to the side, fingers feeling how wet you were. “Hm, you were saying?” He ask you, not doing anything.

“We’re in public-“ you stop when you feel him push two fingers into you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, breathing steadily as he moves his fingers slowly. Your hand wraps around his wrist, he ignores it and keeps doing, curling his fingers upwards until he feels you squeeze around them.

Mick leans into you, whispering; “you gonna cum ? Should I let you?”

You can’t physically bring yourself to answer so you nod.

Mick pulls his fingers away, wiping them on the inside of your thigh as the waitress brings the bill over to the table. He leaves her a big tip, thanking her for being so kind before getting up. His hand reached out for you, and you take it, following him through the back of the restaurant.

You figured you two were going to the car but Mick pulls you into the bathroom, locking the door behind you two.

He’s quick to pick you up, setting you on the counter. You already know what’s about to happen.

Your legs spread, Mick unbuttoning his pants as you watch him. He pulls you further on the counter, his arms holding you in place as he lines himself up with you, pushing into you.

Your head falls back, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Fuck, Mick.” Your hand on his bicep, digging your nails into his arm when he hits the spot.

gazing into each other’s eyes during sex when you make love instead of just hooking up for the first time (mick)

there's not enough mick so here we are 

Being friends with benefits with the boy you’ve been in love with since you were 13 wasn’t the best plan but there you were. You and Mick had grown up together, your mothers best friends since before Mick’s parents got married. 

You’ve had a crush on Mick since you were kids, his blonde hair and blue eyes staring at you from across the dining room table at all the family dinners. So now you're both in your 20s, you and Mick had become good friends, best friends basically. 

When he started travelling for F1, he brought you along with him so he wouldn’t be alone. Pent up frustration and anger from one bad race to the other and one thing led to the other, the two of you ended up in bed together. 

It was purely physically, or at least that’s what you told each other. Tonight, you and Mick had got out for dinner, as you do most nights. 

One flirty remark leads to a kiss which leads to someone’s shirt coming off then your pants and now you’re in bed with him. 

Your legs hooked on his hips, one of Mick’s hand above your head on the pillow. “God, you’re beautiful.” He mumbles against your lips before he kisses you. 

You smile, sucking in a breath when you feel him push deeper. “Mick-” “Shh, I know.” He breathes, his blue eyes meeting yours. 

For a minute, it feels real. You weren’t hooking up or friends with benefits, you were real; in love. 

His hips hit yours, the pace steady but his eyes still fixed on yours. Mick’s forehead against yours. “I love you.” He whispers. 

You kiss him, hands cupping his cheeks. The whimper slipping past yours lips as he hits the spot he’d been looking for. “I love you.” you breathe, “I love you.” 

hi!! It’s jenson anon again but something just struck. DBF!kimi???? Hello, like he always acts cold most of the time but when you guys get your time alone as he is told to baby sit you when your parents are on a business trip, all hell breaks lose and your opinion on him completely changes, he’s a new person, literally!!! Like that man has hold himself back for long enough and he’s done.

-jenson anon ❤️

okay this is so !! -- combined it with a similar ask:  kimi with a younger reader who's got the biggest crush on him!!🥹😩 and he secretly has a soft spot for her too❤️

hope that's okay! - reader is over 18!

your dad was good friends with kimi, he comes over for dinner when he’s in town, he brings you a gift now and then or usually just slips you some cash when he’s leaving.

you've always just known him as kimi, it wasn't until you were much older than you knew what he did for a career, but even then, he was still kimi, dad's friend.

one thing was a constant though: he’s not a man of many words.

your parents were on vacation and your aunt was supposed to stay with you since you weren't going and you guys sorta lived in the middle of no where.

kimi was in town and your parents asked him to stay with you so you won't be here all alone.

after they left, the two of you were sitting in the living room. he asked if you wanted dinner and you say okay.

kimi tell you to pick a place and you do, leaning over to show him the menu for the takeout place on your phone. kimi was looking at your phone but his eyes move to look at your tits, you were wearing a tank top and he was but a man.

you look at him, following his eyes and you giggle. "what?"

kimi looks at you, confused. "what?"

you shake your head, handing him the phone. "order whatever you want, i'm not picky."

after dinner, you two ended up watching a movie on the couch. kimi moves closer to you, his arm around you and you lean into him, not saying anything.

a sex scene comes on and you've got the humour of a teenage boy, giggling when you look at him.

"what?" he looks at you and you shook your head.

you shake your head, but kimi wasn't having it. the man grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "what is it?"

you say nothing, instead you kiss him. kimi was taken aback for a moment but kisses you back, helping you onto his lap. you're grinding down on him, his hands on your hips trying to pull you closer.

kimi flips the two of you over, your legs wrapped around his hips when he pushes your shorts to the side, his fingers rubbing against you.

you can't help but arch your back, pushing your hips closer to him. "desperate," he mumbles, and you smile. "only for you."

SOMETHING DESERVED !!! LANDO N. X DRIVER!FEM!READER (18+)

summary: when she robbed him of a victory, all lando norris could do was retaliate and reward her at the same time (based on this request)

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, not proofread, marking, dirty talk, dom!lando, praise with degradation (good slut), practically hate sex, brief breath play, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, pure filth from lando

note: saw the request and my hands just slipped and boom! lando norris smut. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

💌re:moony’s planner is opened!!!

he was so close to his first ever win. 

p1 was on his reach this weekend and with the upgrades on his vehicle, he was confident that his tractor wouldn’t act like one but like an actual race car this time. 

but god sent up a demon in disguise and decided to call it a day after. 

lando was so busy fighting with max for the lead that he’d forgotten about the woman who was once three seconds behind him — to which she overtook the two drivers in the span of a second. their fighting ended in a massive space that she then took and sped off to without any hesitation.

she then defended her position— she was good at that and even verstappen couldn’t deny that he already lost the moment she’d overtaken him. 

but lando was fuming. it was his fucking turn to win— and this woman just decided to strip that opportunity off of him? he wasn’t sure if it was because of the bad blood between him and the only woman in the grid— or the sexual tension that came with their rivalry. 

his p3 celebration was nothing but sour, so regardless of how good he felt at the points he’d earned he still felt like he was robbed of his time to shine.

all thanks to her. 

her, who danced wildly with the rest of the grid as they showered her with their celebrating presence and the joyous energy of the club. 

her, who decided to lay off the alcohol tonight to enjoy her first win of the season without forgetting about tonight. 

her, who grinded her hips with carlos as they both danced scandalously without any intention to take the other back to their place after. 

her, who looked at lando across the dance floor and offered a wide smirk as she taunted him with a wordless expression that told him — i won, you lost. she continued to dance with carlos while she kept her eyes on lando, whose hand gripped the glass of his virgin drink a little too tightly as his temper arose. 

if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be like this now: his jaw clenched with his face flushing red in frustration while his eyes flickered down her body. he was frustrated, angry, and lustful.

all thanks to her.

her teasing smile and taunting eyes weren’t caused by her victorious result this race weekend and lando knew that.

the way she danced with carlos while she kept her eyes trained on another man told lando enough — that she was chasing after something and it wasn’t the first place. 

she sought for her reward.

but for her to assume that lando was kind enough to hand things to her easily? the british man could only scoff. 

sure she deserved it. but with how she easily took his win away from him, lando wasn’t sure if he'd be nice to hand it to her on a silver plate. she had to work for it.

lando clicked his tongue in a mocking way, pulling himself away from her for a moment as she sobbed.

his eyes trained on her glistening cunt, watching it throb at the emptiness after he edged her for the fourth time tonight. 

maybe it wasn’t ideal to taunt her like this— to fuck her with his mouth then pull away before fucking her with his fingers until she was crying out for more only for him to deny her of that euphoria. 

maybe it wasn’t ideal, but this was how lando wanted to get his frustration out.

“you should look at yourself, princess,” he cooed mockingly, his wet fingers being welcomed by her mouth as she suckled and swirled her tongue around them. “you taste yourself? so good, don’t you think?”

“so desperate for me,” he crooned, watching her cheeks hollow as she sucked on his fingers harder. his other hand tapped on her face slightly as he tutted, “ah, ah, none of that.” 

lando pulled his fingers out of her mouth, to which she tried following it before his hand wrapped around her neck and squeezed it lightly. 

“it’s funny how eager you are for everything, baby,” he chuckled darkly. “you won’t even let me win and now you want my cock inside of you? so greedy. such a needy, greedy slut.” 

she whimpered at his words as lando continued, “you got to choose which one to work hard for and which one you should continue to beg for, princess. not everything can be handed to you that easily.” 

when she continued to whimper and plead quietly, lando smirked and taunted, “oh? i can’t hear you, babe. you’re gonna have to tell me what you want.” 

he was teasing her and she knew that, but she couldn’t find herself to argue as she knew that she was already playing with fire earlier at the club. that, and because she was already falling into a euphoric state where she thought of nothing but getting too fucked out by him. 

“speak up,” lando demanded firmly, squeezing her throat for a moment as she moaned at the feeling. “you’re always mouthy with me in front of everyone, why are you quiet now?” 

“lan- lando please,” she whined, her cunt now grinding against his thigh as she cried out in frustration, “just wanna cum, please! fuck~”

“oh you want to cum?” lando looked at her with a devious smile, “is that what you deserve?”

“‘m a- i won-“ she hiccuped, “i won this race- lando pleaseeee~” 

“i know you did, princess,” he cooed, pressing his lips against hers before his tongue slid in to play with hers. 

he hummed in satisfaction, tasting the virgin strawberry daiquiri from her mouth before he pulled away. 

he pouted mockingly, “and you got a trophy from it— what else could you want from anyone?” 

“i want your cock so bad, just fill me up- fuck, lando- fuck me,” she begged, her eyes glistening in desperation and lust as she continued, “wan’ you to fuck me hard and fill me— i wan’ to be full please, please lando,”

“such a greedy girl,” he clicked his tongue again before wiping her tears away, his tongue trailing from her neck down to her chest as he sucked on her skin and left a purple mark on her tits. 

“but i guess i can’t deny you, huh? because you always get what you want-“ she gasped aloud as lando slid his cock into her without a warning, filling her cunt fully as lando continued to speak, “especially when you deserved it. even if you’re such a fucking brat.”

she tried to get a hold of him but with the way her legs were hooked over his shoulder and his hammering of the tip of his girthy cock against her cervix, all she could grab and hold onto were the white sheets under her. 

she let out a strangled cry as lando continued to fuck her — as if they haven’t hooked up days before and as if he was angry. he sure was angry at her — because he never fucked her like she’s the last person he wanted to see before. 

now she knew what that felt like, and all she could feel was her arousal escaping her cunt and trickling down to her puckered hole while he growled quietly. lando’s forehead rested against hers as his thumb made its way to make her sensitivity go overload and rubbed her clit.

she cried out, “god! fuck!” 

“not even god could hear you, princess,” lando chuckled as he moaned at the sensation of her walls clenching around him. “fuuuuuck~ so tight, pretty girl- yes, fuck! keep tightening ‘round me like that- fucking shit!” 

her legs shook as she felt an incoming orgasm, her body now convulsing under lando as she mewled, “fuck, lando- lando, i- i’m fucking cummin’! fuck, lando! shit!” 

she let out a strangled moan once more before completely stilling around him, reaching her climax in the process as her vision turned white. “shit~” she gasped, her pussy throbbing around his cock as she felt another orgasm incoming— lando never stopped fucking into her when she came and now the overstimulation was leaving her to short circuit as she cried, “lan- lando, ‘s too much! fuck! ‘m cumming, lando shit~”

“yeah? you cumming again? ‘s too much?” lando hoarsely mocked her, his cock ramming into her as sounds of hips snapping against the other filled the room. “but you deserve more of this, princess. you can’t just give up after the first one!” 

“fuck! lando!” she mewled pathetically. another orgasm approached as her body limped for a moment and shook under him. “o-oh~ i~”

lando slowed down his pace, pausing briefly to allow her to ease off the overstimulation as he watched her mouth let out the prettiest gasp he’d ever seen. he had forgotten about the loss of p1 today for a moment. 

all thanks to her.

“so pretty,” he murmured, watching her body calm before she let out a squeak when he began to rock his hips and thrust in and out of her again. “wanna see more of that. be a good girl for me hm?” 

“be good for me and i’ll show you how much you deserve that win and these orgasms, baby. you’re such a good slut f’me.” 

Movie Night | Fernando Alonso

It was supposed to be an innocent movie night, it really was. Except you were completely and utterly turned on- not wanting to admit it because Fernando seemed so excited to watch this movie. You really wouldn't be in the desperate state you were if he hadn't come out of the shower, dripping wet and leaning on the door frame and all- you really were set up for failure.

So there you were, head on his shoulder, with his arm wrapped around you as you clenched and rubbed your thighs together to get some friction going. You could feel his calloused hands rub your shoulder occasionally and that was not helping at all- it was actually doing the exact opposite, it was making you so desperate and needy you felt like you could scream. Jus the feel of his hands against your skin burning desires into you. But he seemed so interested in the movie and just didn't seem as horny as you were, plus you felt bad since this was the first time in a while where you two managed to sit together and relax. Except for you though, you were definitely not relaxed.

You frankly had no idea what you were watching, you'd even manage to forget the name of the movie in the haze you were in. All you focused and cared about were his stupid grey sweatpants and how good his arms looked through his t-shirt and good he'd feel if he just fucked you into the couch right now-

"Is the movie not good?" He asked, face turned to yours, smirk tugging on his lips.

"No no, it's great." You chirped, lying as to cover up your thoughts. Even after all this time, he still made you all flustered.

"Hm, yeah you like it?" He asked, now completely turned to you, his face exhibiting a sort of cockiness you were far too familiar with; he had caught onto your lie and was going to make you admit to it.

"Yeah, it's nice, I'm glad we get to do this." You smiled nuzzling into him to distract him.

"Yeah, yeah." He replied, kissing your head and drawing circles on your arm before chuckling and continuing, "Except I've noticed something."

You shut your eyes in his chest, you knew where he was taking this conversation.

"You seem a bit, uh, distracted." Without seeing his face, you could tell he was smirking.

"Oh really? yeah sorry I must be uh, zoning out." Now you had to hold your ground, you weren't going to give up so easily.

"Hm yeah, is that why you were rubbing your thighs during a funeral scene?" He asked, almost unable to contain the laugh that vibrated through his chest. "Is there something you want to tell me? Cariño are you getting turned on at funeral scenes? Or is something else on your mind?"

The blood was rushing straight to your face. You were so distracted that you hadn't noticed that he'd not only see you rub your thighs, but he was fully aware of your lack of interest in the film.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You huffed, pretending to be offended.

"Hm, you don't?" He asked, pulling you away from him so he could see your face.

"Nope." You lied again, despite knowing that he was on your case. You couldn't even look him in the eye, nor could you look at any other part of him, his arms holding you felt so good, your thoughts were at the verge of wandering away again, despite your circumstances.

"You're not turned on?" He asked again, eyes crinkling on the sides from his smirk.

"Nope." You couldn't get any other word out, afraid that your lie would get caught.

He didn't reply this time, only pushing you further away till your back hit the couch, making your eyes widen in response. His silence made you nervous, his devilish smirk not aiding your cause. He brought his face close to yours, close enough where you could feel his breath on your lips. One of his hands propping him over you, while the other slid down your waist, pausing at the hem of your panties, stretching it and letting go abruptly, the noise clearly audible despite the movie in the background. Your yelp only made him chuckle.

"You know I don't like it when you lie y'know."

"But I'm not lying." You whined, trying to get yourself out of the trouble you'd be in momentarily.

"You're not? What if I put my hands in your little soaking panties to check, hm?" He asked, his hands already making their way to your very wet entrance. "Oh, would you look at that, my naughty little girl was lying."

You gulped, eyes fixated on his, chest heaving against his, anticipating his every move. You knew how hot he'd get when he'd punish you, and you knew that despite your futile efforts, that movie had been long forgotten between you two.

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A/N: I don't talk about my second favourite Spaniard enough, god he's so hot I need him like I need air.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed the blurb. As usual, send in requests or criticism, love u all<3

May I suggest: Fernando + cockwarming? For all of us dilf fuckers out there.

(Also you're doing a smashing job with this xoxo)

ANON UR BRAIN IS SO FUCKING BIG!! (and aaa thank u!! ilu <3)

cockwarming, light mentions of kink/bdsm concepts (mostly subspace), afab gn reader as usual

i mean, his dick is Big, its gotta be. even if you're just cockwarming, you're feeling it up in your guts

so it drives you INSANE. this constant pressure and deepness and stimulation but it's never enough

however, it absolutely sends you into subspace

the idea of just being there to be used, to sit on fernando's cock when he wants you

to be sent so utterly crazy by such little stimulation while nando seems totally unaffected, carrying on with what he's doing?

he's just going about his day - sat at his desk doing work, answering emails

but with you in his lap, legs spread wide over his thick thighs, your head cradled against his collarbone and neck

every so often one of you shifts, and it makes your insides flutter, the sudden stimulation of his cock moving inside you after relative stillness

and that sets him off too, his fingers clenching against the wood of the desk as he regains his composure after feeling you tighten around him

but then he's back to work, and you're back to floating in that almost mindless bliss -- not needing to worry about anything else, anything beyond this moment, and fernando's cock nestled deep inside you

if it's cockwarming while he's watching a film or similar, he's more likely to position you with your back to his chest on his lap, even if he knows you're not really watching the film

those strong, calloused hands idly stroking up and down your sides, dipping down to caress the outsides of your thighs and hips

occasionally bringing his fingers down to play with your clit and trace where your pussy is stretched out around his cock

but it isn't foreplay, in a sense

because you won't be coming until much later that evening, after he's had his fun

however, you still feel his deep laughing rumble through his chest as it makes your cunt squeeze around him and your breath catches as a whine in your throat

and when he brings his hands up under your shirt to cup your tits, not even looking away from his film to where you're blissed out on his cock, you just slip that bit deeper 😌

anon asked: jenson at honda in 2004 or brawn in 2009

This maybe the daddy issues talking but my god who gave these assholes the right to look this fine 😭😭

My favorite blonde twinks 😋🥸

It was supposed to be an innocent meeting.

You were a good student—an excellent one even. You chose your classes wisely, you didn’t let your grade drop and fluctuate much. You were sweet to your professors, you volunteered when you had free time, you excelled in your extracurriculars. You were the model student, the kind of student that other college students envied because you made it look so easy even if it was far from it.

Professor Sebastian Vettel’s class on apiology was right up your alley. You knew you were leaning more towards the environmental sciences for your major, but it also worked well with the credits you needed for the semester. And maybe it sounded a little cocky, but you didn’t think you would have much trouble in the class of one of the university’s most beloved professors. 

But you were wrong. 

You were struggling. You were struggling badly and it was starting to affect your overall grade for the year. And after receiving a disappointing mark on the last paper, you had sent Professor Vettel a pleading email for any extra credit projects that could help you boost your grade up. 

You tried not to feel disheartened when he replied that he doesn’t really do extra credit projects, but he advised you to visit his office on a Thursday night, just after his office hours. He told you he could see your potential and he just wanted to help a bright student shine in a class where you could be excelling in. 

You didn’t hesitate to accept his offer, thanking him immensely when you did.

You tried to ignore the way your heart stuttered when you walked through his office door after knocking, finding him sitting behind his desk. The top of his shirt was unbuttoned and exposing his chest, his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and, maybe it was the ambient light of the lamp beside him, but he looked far more casual and relaxed than he did in his classes. 

He greeted you with a soft smile and gestured towards the seat across from where you quickly settled down, tucking your hands under your thighs as you tried to ease the tightness in your chests. 

You hadn’t even meant to daze out when he started going over your last paper, but his words were going in one ear and out the other, and you just couldn’t focus on the words coming out his mouth when your eyes were so focused on the shape of his lips as he moved. It took an embarrassingly long time for you to realise he had stopped speaking, just looking at you expectantly as you flushed under his gaze.

“Come here.”

You blinked. “What?” 

“Come here,” he repeated again as he nodded towards his side of the desk. “I think it will help you to understand your mistakes if we look over it together.” 

“I—” You started but you cut yourself short as you hesitantly stood up, making your way around the desk. You paused as you stood by his seat, keeping your hands together as you glanced down at his laptop before glancing back at him. “Should I move a seat—”

“Sit down,” he said, his voice soft and commanding.

Your brows furrowed together. “What?”

“Sit down,” Sebastian repeated, his eyes darting down to his lap before looking back at you. “I won’t repeat myself.”

And maybe you should have just walked out of the office. Or even drag a chair around like you assumed he would want you to do. Maybe you should have done a lot of other logical things, but logic was never your forte when you were around Professor Vettel.

You cautiously lowered yourself onto his lap, perched on the edge like you were afraid to fully put your weight on him. And he let that slide—for a while at least. 

But as the minutes passed, his hands went from resting on the armrests to casually holding onto your waist. He leaned forward to point something out on his laptop, his lips right by your ear as he spoke but when he sat back, he pulled you back with him until your back was flushed against his chest. 

And despite your better judgement, you couldn’t help but give into every single one of his touches. 

“You’re squirming.”

You blinked, feeling your cheeks burn as you rose to stand up. “I’m sorry—”

His grip tightened on your waist, keeping your ass pressed against him. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he continued, his thumbs rubbing up and down in a soothing movement. “I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” 

“I am, sir.” 

His hands fisted the material of your skirt in his hands. “Are you?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his warm palms on your thighs. “Sir—”

“Is there a problem?” He asked, his voice dropping a little as you resisted the urge to clench your thighs together.

“Should we be doing this?” You whispered.

“Do you want me to stop?” Sebastian retorted.

“No,” you said, a little high-pitched and whiny as your hand darted out to grip his wrist, to keep his hands on you. “Don’t…don’t stop.”

Because you didn’t want him to stop even if a part of you knew it was wrong. You didn’t want him to stop as his hands trailed up your thighs and under your skirt. You didn’t want him to stop as his fingers lightly teased you over your cotton panties. You didn’t want him to stop as he slowly slid your panties down your legs until they pooled at your ankles, his fingers buried deep inside you before you could even kick them off.

“Please,” you sobbed, your face tucked into the crook of his neck as you squirmed on his lap. But he didn’t give in.

“You wanted to discuss your paper,” Sebastian said, lightly slapping your inner thigh until your teary eyes were focused on his laptop screen again. “Don’t be greedy now, schatz.”

“Sir,” you whined, your hips bucking against his palm but he didn’t move his fingers. 

“Good girls only get to come when they do their work,” Sebastian continued, trying to bite back his smirk as you leaked down his wrist and your own thighs. “Do you want to be a good girl?”

You nodded, whimpering. 

“Then, focus on the screen. And then maybe I’ll let you come, if you’re a good student f’me, yeah?”

And it was far from the last paper you would meet Professor Vettel to discuss in his office after his office hours.

.

Glory days- S. Vettel

Sebastian Vettel x wife! Reader

In which you ask your husband to fuck you like he did in your glory days

Warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(plz use protection!), oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), dirty talk, ass slapping, degrading, cursing, porn with a small plot, prob many errors & bad grammar 

Part of my 1k celly:)

You blamed the internet for being the reason you were seeking out your husband. The damn tik tok you scrolled upon showing your husband being drowned in champagne by two of his closest friends and then him showing his tongue with his index finger up to the world.

You loved the way Sebastian treated you in the bedroom, there was no doubt about that.

But the video had you missing the RedBull days where he was more wild and would have you pinned against a wall with tears streaming down your face as he spat things at you in German, how he’d tease you for so long you were sobbing and begging for him, the quickies in his drivers room while the entirety of the RedBull team were looking for him.

Finally finding him sat at his desk in the office you snuck up behind him, running your hands down his chest to signal your presence.

“Hi meine Liebe” he smiled taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips.

“Hi” you greeted back.

Turning around in his chair the man smiled up at you before pulling you onto his lap.

“The girls go down easy?”

“By the second story they were both snoring” he laughed at the thought of his sweet twins fast asleep.

“I’m glad, they love having you put them to bed” you beamed snuggling deep into his chest.

“And I love doing it”

You two sat like that for a minute , his large hand running along your back while he replied to emails he’d been putting off.

“Hey Seb?” Your soft voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Yes darling?”

“Remember the night you won your third championship?” You smirked at the sound of the him taking a sharp breath.

“Of course I do, what about it?” He coughed slightly shifting underneath you.

“Remember how drenched we were in champagne? How you poured it down my chest before licking it up? How you made me come three times in three different ways?”

A cry tore from your throat when his hand slotted in your hair and pulled you from his neck.

“What are you trying to do here Schatz?” He grunted

“I just…We haven’t gone at it like that in a long time, and don’t get me wrong I still love the way you fuck me but I kinda miss us being messy and rough” you spoke looking up at him with his favorite doe eyes.

A growl, an actual growl broke from the mans throat before he smashed his lips against yours, the kiss was hot and sloppy, something familiar but yet forgotten.

His free hand reaching down to grip your hip, pulling you so close you could feel his chest moving in and out against your own.

“Seb” you panted pulling away from his lips.

“What?”

“I need you, please. I need you to fuck me so hard that I don’t remember my own name-like you used to.” You begged the blonde.

Without anymore pleading he slipped his hands under your thighs before standing and making his way down the hall.

“Seb you passed the bedroom” you spoke with confusion.

“I know”

Confusion clouded your mind for a moment until you realized he was opening the door to one of your guest rooms.

“Further from the girls, don’t wanna risk your pathetic noises waking them” he spat, his hands hastily pulling your leggings down.

Slotting himself between your thighs he began trailing soft kisses against the insides of your thighs, lips brushing right past your wet cotton panties.

“Seb, please” you begged.

“Hush Kleiner Hase” he smirked at the yearning whimper that broke from your throat at the name.

His torturing kisses continued along your skin, nipping and sucking along the skin coaxing whines and whimpers from you.

“Sebastian baby-please, I need you” you begged, hands running through his soft and overgrown curls.

“Your the one that asked for this baby, wanted me to take care of like I used to.” He tutted and as much as you wanted to argue he was right.

Sebastian hardly made you wait anymore, usually due to the fact that kids made it hard for you two to take your time.

Finally running his fingers over the elastic of your panties Sebastian hooked a finger in the material and pulled them down your legs.

“So wet for me” breathed, mouth watering at the sight of your dripping folds.

“Oh god seb please” you whined.

Your body was aching for him at this point, wanting nothing more than his body pressed against yours while he fucked you silly and made you come over and over again.

A groan left your husbands throat as he left kisses along your folds, his tongue teasingly running through them. Your body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth finally coming into contact with your cunt.

Your fingers gather his hair in a vice grip, pulling on the locks so hard it had Sebastian whimpering.

“Feels so good Seb” you heaved, body shivering as he ate you like a starved man.

His tongue ran along your folds, moving in multiple different patterns while his nose bumped and prodded against your clit.

Sebastian’s hands pinned your hips down as you attempted to grind against his face, a sharp slap against your skin letting you know to knock it off.

Your thighs shook as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten by the seconds, your moans getting louder and your tugs on Sebastian’s hair getting harder.

“M’ gonna-fuck, gonna cum seb” you cried out.

“Go on pretty girl, cum for me. Want you to cum all over my face.” He encouraged as he slipped two fingers inside you to help guide you to your high.

You arched your back, breath quivering as you came, thighs closing around Sebastian’s head drawing the man even closer to your cunt then before.

Broken sobs escaped your throat as you came down from your high, Sebastian left wet kisses along the skin of your lower stomach while his fingers continued to work you open.

“So pretty Schatz” he cooed in your ear before your body was flipped over and you were placed on your knees with your face shoved into the comforter.

You could feel him shuffling before the warm head of his cock was placed against your folds, teasingly running through the cum and spit covered skin.

Sebastian shuddered as he slipped inside, his hands gripping your hips so hard you knew there’d be bruises in their place tomorrow.

“My fucking god..” he growled at the way your walls hugged him.

He could hear your muffled cries as he kept up a brutal pace, the sounds of skin slapping mixing in with your shared moans filled the room.

Your breath hitched with every thrust, you could feel every ridge and vain as he split you open. His deeps grunts and growls making you clench even tighter around him.

“Ah-fuck. Seb it feels so good” you whimpered as he placed a foot onto the soft mattress to allow him a deeper angle over your body.

“Yeah? Like when I fuck you like a little slut?” He spat, leaning his body over your back to whisper in your ear.

The man got nothing but muffled cries in return as your body squirmed underneath his, your toes curling in pleasure as he fucked you deep.

“Clenching me so tight” he panted into your neck.

Your breath hitched at every thrust, the heat in your lower stomach getting hotter and hotter by the second.

“Se-oh!-m’ gonna cum” you stuttered.

He smirked at the way your body shook due to his movements, how you cried as his hand came down hard against your plump ass.

“Go on Meine Liebe, come all over my cock like a good whore” he taunted as his thrusts picked up and soon his hand was placed on the back of your head; shoving your face into the mattress.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, body trembling, and toes curling as your climax washed over you. Your entire body shook as Sebastian kept going, his thrusts unforgiving as he chased a high of his own.

Grunts filled the room as Sebastian felt the familiar shiver run down his spine and he came deep inside you, your cunt milking him dry.

He smirked at the sight of your fucked out face when he turned your body over, tear tracks covered your red cheeks as you panted for air.

“So pretty Liebling” he shushed as he ran his thumb along your warm cheek.

“Tha-that was amazing” you laughed as you pulled his body down to press against yours.

“Yeah?” He smirked as he placed kisses along your neck.

“Mhm”

“I’m glad because I’m far from being done with you”

-

History teacher Seb:

The history department plans a trip to a museum and he catches you and your friends acting out the birth of Aphrodite, he watches a bit before chuckling and posing you, gripping your chin lightly to get you to look up to him from hooded lashes as your hands lay over your breasts and over your thigh. Hey guys what if i passed out right now? hey what if i actually died dead and passed out because imagine that he has those slutty sunglasses on his head, its Ferarri era Seb with the light scruff, and the sunglasses on his head, softly smiling down at you as you pose lustfully yet demurely for him, melting in his hands as his canines shine. AND WHEN YOUR FRIEND FINALLY TAKES THE PICTURE OF ALL OF YOU HE ASKS TO BE SENT IT, MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH YOU AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Hii! Can you do something with Redbull Seb and these 46, 49, 52, 95, 4, 75? You don't need to use all of them, I just put some of them so you could see my vision. Thank you <3

First time writing Seb but the wheel of fics has spoken and so today is the day, praying this goes well

Translation: Biene = Bee in German

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"I'm not going to touch you unless you beg," Seb hums in your ear, smirking at the groan of frustration that bubbles from your throat. "Come on Seb, I've been waiting all night, please just touch me." You whine, bucking your hips towards his face in impatience. His hands force your hips back down, "Good girl, that wasn't so hard was it?" He smiles, his fingers wiping through your folds. "So wet for me biene, do you want to cum?" He asks, running the tip of his finger over your clit, making your walls clench around nothing.

"Please Seb, want to cum for you so bad, please do something." You moan out, patience wearing even thinner as he takes his time exploring you with just one finger. "Maybe I'd rather take my time, let you wait for it even longer." He hums, clicking his tongue in disappointment at the way you roll your eyes in annoyance. When his fingers still don't slip inside you, you let out a groan of annoyance. You hoist yourself up onto your elbow, the other arm tugging on Seb's hair to force him to look up at you.

"Yes schatze? What can I do for you?" He asks, coy smile playing on his lips.

"Put that snarky mouth to work Sebastian or I swear to god I won't have sex with you for a month." You threaten, the tone of your voice making Seb's cock twitch in its confines. "Okay okay, jeez." He huffs, cheesy grin taking over his face at the way you let his hair go as you lie back down. He starts by placing kisses around your pussy, avoiding the one place you ache for him most. Once you dig your heels into his shoulder he gets the hint, enveloping your clit in his mouth. The warmth from his mouth makes you clench, your thighs tightening slightly around his head. His tongue flicks out as he sucks, sending vibrations through your body as his spit drips down your pussy. You moan out his name, this time threading your fingers in his hair to hold his heavenly tongue against you.

His tongue darts everywhere, tasting every inch of you. He sucks and nibbles at your clit, the movement of his jaw causing his chin to brush against your entrance. His hand joins his mouth, slipping a finger inside you. Your walls clamp around his finger as he groans at your wetness. His finger feels around your walls, pushing against the spongy spot located on the front wall, curling his finger as he continues to suck your clit. He feels the way you clench around him, your moans increasing in volume. Removing his head from you he requests, "Tell me when you're about to cum biene." You nod in response, urging his head to resume its original position.

It doesn't take long for the pit in your stomach to spread, warmth feeling your bones as you feel yourself getting closer to your peak. "Gonna cum Seb." You whine, tugging at his hair. He pulls back once more, removing his finger too this time. You look down at him in shock, his hair wild, pink lips swollen with your juices. "You're not allowed to cum without my permission." He tells you, crawling over the top of you to place a kiss on your lips. "Payback for being bossy." He whispers against your lips. You just groan, smashing your lips together and tasting yourself on his tongue.

Sebastian continues to kiss you as he slides two fingers inside you, scissoring them against your walls. You moan his name into his mouth, your nails scratching the back of his neck in pleasure as he plunges them deeper inside you. His fingers have always felt much better than yours, their length allowing them to reach places you could only dream of. He could read your body like a book, finding the moment he hooks his fingers against your g-spot, your breath hitching and stomach contracting. He continues to press his fingers against the spot, enjoying the way you squirm against him.

His mouth travels down your collarbone, reaching your breasts. Your pebbled nipples lean toward his mouth as your arch your back at his actions between your legs. He captures one in his mouth, swirling his tongue and enjoying the way your nipple seems to get impossibly harder. He will always love the way you react to him, the way he seems to be able to draw things out of you when anybody else would assume you have nothing left to give. Seb can feel the way you're tightening around his fingers and removes them once more, watching your hole clench around the emptiness.

"Don't cum yet." He murmurs as he guides himself inside you. The stretch of your walls around his cock making you mewl. You claw at his shoulders as he seats himself inside you, your walls pulsing around his thick cock. Sliding himself out he moans at the way your jaw drops when he slams himself back inside, whispering praises in your ear at the way you take him.

"Seb, please, I'm so close." You mewl, "I don't know if I can hold it any longer." Tears well in your ears at the pleasure beginning to overcome you, Seb's thumb wiping one away as it drips down your cheek. "You can cum whenever you'd like biene, been so good for me, want to feel it." He groans, his head dropping to your shoulder as he pounds into you. His words were all you needed, letting go and soaking his cock in your cum. He whimpers at the way your walls clamp around him, biting down onto your shoulder lightly as his orgasm hits him, hips stuttering against your own.

Seb manages to hold himself above you long enough to pull out before rolling over and collapsing next to you. He pulls you into his side, stroking your hair as your eyes start to close. "Did so good for me biene, want a bath now?" He questions, smiling as you nod into his neck. "Cuddle me for a bit longer first though, please." You whisper out, curling into his body further and enjoying the way his arms feel around you.

prize

{toto wolff x fem!reader x lewis hamilton}

in which toto gifts lewis his most prized possession

warnings: smut with no plot in sight, threesome sex, free-use/sharing, blowjobs/intense deep throating with some references to light gagging + choking / hand over throat and swallowing, voyeurism/exhibitionism with m!masturbation, fingering, unprotected + risky/irresponsible sex, some vague dom/sub controlling dynamics with use of “sir” + “good girl”, some dirty talk, possessive behaviour and ownership talk that is concerning to feminism.

a/n: sometime last year, I was writing something that was so dirty I wanted to create an entirely new blog so I wouldn’t be associated with it. This is the fic that spurred that impulse. i promise I don’t usually write filth like this, but I was possessed by the need to get this out of my system.

They got you splayed out flat on the huge bed that sits in the middle of the hotel room, your tight skirt hiked up to your hips, legs spread. The taller man stands in front of you, a balled fist under his chin as he contemplates how delicious you look, naked and wet for him and his prized, 7-time (or 8, depending on who you ask) world champion who’s still in disbelief, having come straight from his most recent podium finish.

“See, Lewis,” Toto’s deep voice reverberates through the room, making your skin pebble with awareness of its sensual timbre, “I told you I’d get you a fitting prize for your win today.”

Lewis’ eyes glint with amusement, tongue flicking out to swipe over his bottom lip that’s still sticky with champagne. “She’s so pretty, Toto. She yours?”

“Mmmm.” He nods in agreement, reaching over to slide his hand up the soft curve of your inner thigh, making you shiver with want. His hands are so big and warm as they inch up to cup your pussy between your legs, pressing into you with skilful, familiar hands that have you bucking up into his sensual touch. Those long, elegant fingers stroke between your folds, teasing you until you cry out and beg, “please, Toto!”

He withdraws instantly, and you groan from the loss of his touch. When he speaks, it’s unbearably deep and authoritative. “What did you just call me?”

“I’m s-sorry,” you whimper, feeling the shame burn in your cheeks, “p-please… sir.”

He crooks a grin at you, voice still holding traces of his stern discipline. “That’s much better.”

And with that admission, he licks his fingers, already wet with you, so that they’re even slicker so he can push them into you, curling up and rubbing that perfect spot inside you that’s got you arching, undulating against his hand. Toto’s smile widens when he feels your walls clenching around his fingers, endeavouring to slide a third finger inside the tight squeeze of you. He darts a look at Lewis, as if ready to issue orders over a team radio, and Lewis is so quick on the uptake, understandingly perfectly what Toto wants and starts stripping himself from fashionably loose top. He’s beautiful - so muscular and taut everywhere, and deliciously hard where it matters most. You can’t tear your eyes away from the way his fingers - tattooed, long, elegant - peel his clothes away with such a finesse.

“Make him feel so good with your mouth,” comes Toto’s order, his fingers still working you, and you twist up into the pleasurable rhythm of his touch, and the prospect of obeying him, of getting to taste his champion whom you’ve had your eye on for longer than you cared to admit.

Lewis steps forward, not shy in the very least, but you sense his apprehension in crossing this line with you tonight. That, you think, won’t do at all. He needs to know you want this - you’re eager to show him how happy everyone is after his victory - how pleased Toto in particular is.

Toto can be very generous with his gifts when he wants to be. And you never want to disappoint.

Your tongue licks Lewis’ dick from the base all the way to the tip, tracing the vein that runs across his cock so beautifully. He makes such encouraging sounds as you worship him with your mouth, with kisses and long sweeps of your tongue, until he’s fully hard, and he’s got his hands cupped at the back of your head with gentle persuasion.

“Such a good girl. Showing him what your mouth can do, hm?” Toto slides his thumb over your clit, rubbing a sinister, torturous little pattern that makes you moan as you gaze up at Lewis, watching his eyes go half-lidded with desire as you take his cock further into your mouth, swallowing around him. “That’s it, sweetheart,” Toto praises, fuelling your desire to please him and Lewis even more. “That’s my good girl.”

You suck Lewis in your mouth so deep that you have to concentrate to suppress your gag reflex. His lips part, eyes darkening as you reach for his hip and pull him even further inside you, until he’s past the tight squeeze of your throat and you choke slightly, eyes watering from the sensation of him buried in you fully. This blowjob, coupled with Toto’s relentless fingers fucking you, teasing you until you’re mindless, makes you gasp out, making rough noises of struggle as you grow overwhelmed with the sensations they’re building inside you.

Lewis brushes away the stray tears that fall from your eyes, pulling back slightly to ease your discomfort. “You look so fucking pretty like this…” he says, flicking his tongue over his lower lip.

You whimper, pushing back to find that satisfying girth of his cock, the pressing it to the back of your throat again, and this time it makes his dick throb. You gag slightly, the sound making Toto hum encouragingly, and so you take more and hold back the reflex that’s pushing his cock out. You keep Lewis in the squeeze of your throat for long seconds, until he’s swearing, pulling out desperately because it feels too good, and you’ll make him want to come too quickly. You can taste the musky sweetness of his precum all over your tongue when he slides out, his cock a mess with your saliva.

“Fuck.” He says, eyes shiny, staring at you with an incredulity that feels like the best form of flattery.

“Got her all ready for you, Lewis.” Toto withdraws his fingers and, with a wry little smile on his face, draws P1 in your own wetness in the blank canvas of your inner thigh, and Lewis traces it with his own fingers, his face aglow with pride at the memory of his victory.

“On your back, pretty girl,” Lewis says, and you hurry to comply. He gets on top of you, his warmth engulfing you. You tip your head back to watch Toto press his palm over the bulge at his pants, as if to ease the ache there, and you whimper, reaching out for him.

Toto shakes his head, settling into the chair he pulls up next to the bed to watch you two. “You’re all his tonight, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, flushing at the thought of Toto sharing you so freely, especially when he’s ordinarily so possessive. You turn back to look at Lewis, who’s so handsome especially up close, and you wind your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss that’s tentative, sweet - showing Toto exactly what he’s missing out on tonight. Lewis deepens the kiss with a hand cupped to your jaw, and you moan when his tongue slides against yours - you know he can taste himself on your tongue.

At the side of the room, you hear Toto unzip his pants, and when you turn to look, Lewis pulls your face back to him. “Eyes on me,” he says, a tad sharply, and you shiver at the authority you hear in his voice, “you’re mine tonight, remember?”

You swallow, feeling heat rush to your cheeks at the thought of fully surrendering to him. He rubs his nose against yours, and you exhale at the feel of his soft lips coming to kiss you again - this time, it’s this intoxicating, drug-like thing that makes you dizzy with want. “Lewis,” you beg, stroking your hands down his smooth back, feeling the shift of his muscles underneath your touch. “Yes. All yours.”

Lewis pulls back from the kiss - raises his eyebrows. And you bite down on your bottom lip, knowing exactly what he wants.

You take a steadying breath, before telling him, “I’m all yours - sir.”

At the side, you can hear Toto’s hitched breath, as if he finds this transgressive act of you calling Lewis the name you reserve only for Toto so unbearably, ridiculously arousing. Behind that, the sound of his hand coming to stroke his cock with teasing slowness - as if he wants to savour this - to prolong this.

Lewis smiles into your kiss, his hands now gliding across your thigh, guiding you to wrap around his hips so that he can be so close to you - his prize. His cock is so hard against your belly, but he seems content to grind up slowly against you - letting the heat build in torturous laps. You whimper in frustration, pushing back into him, the ache between your legs too much to ignore any longer. “So impatient,” he teases, “are you this whiny with Toto?”

“Worse,” Toto says, the low rumble of his voice an erotic reminder that he’s relinquished you tonight. “She’s always so fucking eager for it.”

Lewis chuckles, letting his hand wander past the slope of your thigh, up to your slick folds that part easily for his fingers. You gasp when he finds your clit, making messy circles as his free hand finds the curve of your breast to cup its weight, tease your nipple into an even stiffer point. You arch your back, bucking into his touch. “So good for me,” he murmurs, glancing over at Toto now, and you follow his gaze, meeting your boyfriend’s eyes and seeing them glazed over with affection, with yearning, with an arousal that you’ve never quite seen before. Toto’s hand’s gripping his cock in twisting, deft strokes. Your belly tightens, jaw going slack as you watch, hypnotised, feeling yourself tip past the point of no return, having Lewis’ fingers on your clit, watching Toto touch himself to this - you come all too easily, melting into the sheets with endless shudders and a wet rush over Lewis’ fingers. You can’t help the mess you make, and judging from the look on Toto and Lewis’s face - they can’t help admiring it.

“Don’t keep her waiting, Lewis,” Toto says, an order that’s clearly for his own benefit too. From the way his breathing’s gone ragged, a flush spreading down the open collar of his button down shirt, you know he wants to come, too.

Lewis nods, keeping his eyes on his boss as he whispers into your ear, “he likes to watch, huh?”

You grin at him. “Turn me over and fuck me, and you’ll find out just how much he likes it.”

Lewis laughs. He’s left the skin along your belly sticky with precum, from where his cock’s been grinding against you, and you feel an answering pull to have him make more of a sticky mess all over you. Inside you.

He turns you over gently in his hands, until you’re on your belly, in direct view of Toto. Facing him.

Toto winks at you, and stills his hand. You lick your lips and gaze at the erection in his lap, already beaded with moisture from the tip. Fuck, you mouth to him, and from the way he smirks, you know he feels the exact way you do now.

Lewis slides a hand in your hair and tugs, making you cry out in surprise. He kisses your cheek, and you wriggle back into his cock, sliding it along the cleft of your ass. Back and forth. Toto spits into his hand and you watch him drag the shiny smear across his cock with fascination. “Need you, sir,” you say, unable to distinguish exactly who you’re talking about - because maybe it’s not just Toto or Lewis - but somehow both, fulfilling exactly what you want. What you need.

Lewis tightens his grip in your hair, guiding his cock with his free hand to the slippery heat he finds between your legs now. You spread your legs for him, unable to keep at bay the shameless wanting you feel - intensified only by the fact that Toto’s watching you two, touching himself to this.

Lewis gazes at Toto with a keen eye, as if needing that final push towards the finish line, an extra injection of assurance and confidence, and all Toto does is to give the most subtle of nods, and to tell him, “go on, Lewis.” He grins in a way that befits his name - teasingly wolfish. “Push, push.”

Lewis hums, “understood.” And he does. Oh he fucking does - pressing thick and hot into you, with a grunt that you echo as well. He feels so solid inside you, and it almost aches to have him fill you up. Your face scrunches up with that ecstasy of feeling all of him and you grip the sheets while you breathe through this new sensation.

Above you, Lewis is pressed against your back, practically vibrating with energy. You clench around him when Toto groans softly, squeezing at the head of his cock until a tantalising drip of precum leaks out. You want to lick it all up, and the look in Toto’s eyes promises you that you can - later.

Lewis sucks in a breath, and starts to move inside you, using the grip he has in your hair as leverage to fuck you deeper, rougher. You cry out with each thrust he makes, keeping your eyes on Toto the whole time, the lines of his face becoming more pronounced when he’s this turned on. “Such a good girl,” he says, and you bask in his praise, tightening around Lewis in a way that makes him groan.

Lewis rewards you with kisses littered along your shoulders, your neck, finding a particularly sensitive spot that makes you melt into the bed as you exhale a trembly breath for him.

“You can bite, too,” Toto chimes in, and your whole body goes taut - he looks so smug, being so thoroughly in tune with your body that he knows what you need even before you need it. You could come like this, to Toto’s open adoration of you and Lewis together, to his orders, to the way Lewis fucks into you with the perfect balance of roughness and tender care. Lewis is no fool - he’ll take every advantage that’s offered by his boss. He snaps up the instruction with ease, sinking his teeth into your nape and sucking at the soreness he leaves. You moan, desperate now because your body feels like it doesn’t belong to you any longer, it’s so molten-hot - pure liquid desire fissioning through you. Toto’s fingers speed up now, and you want him and the rewards he’ll give you later, when Lewis is gone.

“You know he saved it all up for you,” Toto’s voice turns conspiratorial, “he doesn’t fuck before a race.”

You turn to look up at Lewis - his sparkly, pretty eyes, the determination underscored in them, and lean up to kiss him. He deserves this so much - his patience paying off incredibly well. “Don’t stop…” you whisper between the kiss, and Lewis nods, chasing your mouth with his, sucking on your bottom lip. “Don’t stop until you get what you want. What you deserve, sir.”

He pulls back, eyes bright and eager with possibility. He uses that hand in your hair to turn you back to Toto, leaning in to echo the same words Toto issued just moments earlier. “Go on baby,” Lewis whispers, mischievous now, “show him what your mouth can do.”

You gasp. “Holy fuck - yes.”

Toto grins with delight, like Lewis’d just overtaken two cars in a tight corner. He gets up and you don’t waste time obeying - getting what you’d been wanting all evening - taking his cock between your lips now, sucking him in a way that you know he likes. He fills your mouth like no other, and you swallow around him, wanting nothing more than his cum on your tongue, on your face. Lewis doesn’t stop fucking you, hips snapping into yours eagerly, purposefully, and it’s delicious, the dual sensation of being filled at two ends.

Lewis gently eases your head down into Toto’s cock, and you relax your throat, swallowing and breathing slowly until he’s lodged firmly in the tight column. Toto grunts - he likes this, and ordinarily you can’t hold it for too long, but you’re eager to please, to keep this pleasurable for him. For Lewis.

But then Lewis moves his hand from your hair to your throat, and your eyes widen as you realise what he’s doing - trailing fingers along the bulge that Toto’s cock makes in your neck, as if he’s fascinated by how hot it is, how tight your throat must feel, and you start to shake - it’s too much to be touched like this. You pull back instantly, catching your breath, feeling an answering wet rush between your legs.

Your face feels hot when Toto tenderly strokes it, wiping away some of the spit that gathers along your chin, and you nuzzle into his large hand, feeling so comforted. “You liked that,” he observes, and you readily nod.

Lewis grins, wrapping a hand lightly around your throat now. “Can you do it again, sweetheart?”

You make a rough little noise and nod, and this time when you take Toto down your throat again, you know Lewis feels it go in, the same bulge that has you swallowing around, struggling to contain all of Toto’s cock inside you. This feels so hot to you, a challenge that you’re willing to conquer because it gets Toto flustered, that icy control he always has seeming to fracture at the edges when you’re this dirty for him.

Lewis moans, and you tighten around him. He’s going to come. You’re going to come. And Toto… he’s losing control. Fast. Pulling back the slightest before thrusting once into your open mouth now, and-

He swears, and shudders.

The hot spurt of him comes so quick, you’re caught off guard. But you hold him deep inside as much as you can, only pulling back slightly as his cock throbs and he makes this erotically-charged moan when he coats the back of your throat, his eyes never leaving yours as you swallow, suppressing the reflex to gag. He looks so wrecked with ecstasy that you can’t wait to do this again.

Lewis continues to fuck into you, biting your shoulder as if needing to find a distraction, reaching between your legs to drag some of your shared wetness over your clit so he can rub it in messy, desperate circles. You thrash against him as you pull off from Toto’s cock with a satisfying gasp of breath, filling with relief from the ache in your throat and jaw. Lewis murmurs hotly into your skin, “so pretty, fuck… so incredibly good for us,” and you’re shivering now, wanting to having him spill into you with such a savage desire that you push back urgently into him.

“Gonna come,” you warn him, and he groans in return, not stopping for a goddamn moment, letting you ride the momentum you need, that he needs.

Toto cups your face, panting, letting you peer up at him. “God, you’re going to come so hard for him, aren’t you?”

You whine almost pathetically. He’s right. He’s so fucking right.

The orgasm crashes into you with thunderous force, and you cry out hoarsely into Toto’s hands, tears and agonised pleasure written all over your face. The room echoes with your mingled scream of Toto’s name, of Lewis’, with a “sir” and “holy fucking shit” thrown in for good measure. You come and don’t stop coming until Lewis himself is moaning, shoving into you erratically and spilling himself into you. Risky. Reckless. Fucking hot.

You wonder if Toto will make him clean you up, and the thought makes you shiver. You collapse against each other - breathlessly satiated.

The exhaustion that sets in after is profound, but there’s something inherently satisfying in having Lewis pull you over to the centre of the bed, while Toto climbs in at the side, sandwiching you between him and Lewis while he hands you water that you sip at, gratefully, before passing it over to Lewis.

Toto looks so fucking proud of the two of you, as if it’s a shared podium, and he tells you this in the soft kisses he makes at the sore points of your throat and jaw, licking tenderly as if to soothe over the ache. “You did so well,” he murmurs, but there’s no telling if he’s talking only to you, or to Lewis as well. There’s a faint rumble in his chest when you make appreciative noises for his gentle aftercare. His hands stroke over your bare hip, the curve of your waist, and you whimper softly, curling into him. Lewis snuggles in too, spooning you into Toto, sleepily nuzzling his face into your hair, dreaming, you imagine, of future podiums with you and Toto.

—

so happy to purge this fic from my system!! quite a different vibe from the last Lewis & Toto fic I wrote. also yes, I know this wasn’t the threesome that was promised but my Charlos one will be up as soon as I can manage it!

been thinking a lot about threesomes these days if I’m honest. That threesome poll really got me thinking 👀

would love to hear what you thought of this, if you’d be so kind 💛

love ives ✨

masterlist

Hi! I love your insta aus and wanted to ask if you could do a toto wolff one with a non famous reader, like she's a teacher or something and they've been secretly married for some years and it just now came out

thank you for even considering, have a great day!

Toto Wolff x professor!Reader - Social Media AU

yourusername

Liked by f1wagupdates, harvardconfessions, and 49,356 others

yourusername there’s a she wolff in disguise

View all 382 comments

f1wagupdates a shakira fan? toto has good taste

harvardconfessions this is not what we expected

yourusername and we didn’t expect for photos of a private moment to be plastered online by a faceless account but we can’t always get what we want

f1wagupdates mic drop

mercedesamgf1

Liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and 594,718 others

mercedesamgf1 sorry, we were walking our fish. did we miss anything?

View all 2,126 comments

yourusername oh nothing much

lewishamilton quite a predictable day really

georgerussell63 nothing out of the ordinary at all

f1wagupdates so it seems that the team knew about her or at least the drivers did 👁️👄👁️

paddockgirlie sometimes i really wish toto was on social media

F1 alignment chart 2 📈

This for all my toto girliesss , enjoy this man.

Imma right write something about this man tonight hahahahahah 🫠🫠🫠

The last picture has me in a choke hold , like choke me fr

These are my edits

love thy neighbor - t.wolff

masterlist

pairings: Toto Wolff x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of ideas not intended for minors + next door neighbor trope + NO age gap!(for the sake of the fic both reader and Toto are relatively close in age)

a/n: been working on this one for a hot minute! hope you enjoy xx

you never hated your neighbor. to be fair, to hate someone you have to know their name and all you know is he has a extravagant life style to afford vintage Mercedes Benz cars and have shelves full of trophies. call yourself a snooper, but the man across the way was never good at hiding his life from your window.

his lifestyle was far different than anyone in the cul de sac you live in. half of them being retired home owners, plus you two. middle aged adults with paychecks able to afford the expense of a home in Monaco.

you don’t question why he has so many trophies, and you’ll never have the time, but it doesn’t stop your morning coffee imagination at the dinning room table. you have the perfect view inside a part of his space.

yes, whoever created these two houses must’ve been complete creeps or family, because nobody ever has windows that are directly into another persons house. but you never questioned it, you just closed the blinds at night or whenever his light was on too early in the morning for you.

today was a morning he was dressed to the nines. a blazer, white dress shirt(typical fashion of his), and dress pants. he lays two ties out and you watch him decide which one to wear. you feel awfully embarrassed when his eyes catch yours, but he sends a slight wave, and you hold up a finger indicating which option was best.

you can’t hear it, but all you see is him laugh and it makes you wonder what it sounds like. is it husky? more from the belly? is it contagious?

you need sleep, these thoughts about your neighbor are certainly overpowering any senses that coffee can’t seem to help.

—

he’s gone most weekends. his vintage Mercedes sits in the driveway, top on in case of a rainstorm, but his lights in the house are off. he’s got endless amounts of packages piling up outside his doorstep that would have you eager to rip them open if they were yours.

a long day of grocery shopping and dinner at your parents in town took a lot out of you. you shove your key into the lock of your door, hearing the rumble of the infamous neighbors Mercedes speed around the cul de sac until he pulls into his driveway and cuts the engine.

your door is half open, you’re halfway in it, but it’s like you’re watching something out of a movie scene. the way he gets out of the car is like in slow motion. his rolled up white dress shirt sleeves have creases across the arms. his brief case sits on the top of his car as he slams the door shut behind him rudely awakening your little stare.

a blush forms to your cheeks as you quickly slam your door behind you once you’ve shoved yourself inside. your back rests against the door, heart beating against your chest it’s almost as loud as the knock that comes next.

you jolt away from the door, moving yourself onto your tippy toes you see him. he’s holding one of your bags of groceries you left at the door step, he’s got one hand clutching his brief case, the other gripping the plastic bag full of embarrassing items (ie: tampons and other toiletries).

if you could hate one person right now, it’s you. how could you let yourself get so immersed in him that you literally dropped what you were doing and stared like a little girl in a candy shop?

you swallow the little pride left in you and slowly open the door up a bit. you get a peek at the lines across his face, most likely due from stress, and the way his brown eyes find you. you can feel the thudding of your heart against its cavity.

“I believe you dropped these.” he extends the bag outward towards where you stand, you’re sandwiched in the little space you gave yourself. you extend your hand out, skin briefly touching before you pull away.

“I’m Toto, I don’t think we’ve properly met. and you are?”

his accent. it’s so unfamiliar to your ears. you never would’ve expected his voice to be as deep but light as it was. it was smooth like butter on toast to your ears, it made the hairs on your arm stand up, your back straighten.

“y/n.”

a sparkle shines in his eyes. it’s one you notice once you’ve said your name. he repeats it softly back to you in a question, like it’s not what he was expecting, and he likes it. he always pictured you with a unique name, or maybe one that was a bit basic, but yours fits you perfectly.

“well I better get going. it’s nice to meet you.” he waves you off before he slips into his own house and both of your doors slam in sync.

now that he had a name, there was no stopping your imagination.

—

mornings were the same. they always were.

freshly brewed coffee in front of you, as you watch Toto dance around his kitchen balance a smoothie, a laptop, and a muffin. the man was always busy once the sun shined through his blinds. you wonder if he ever truly gets sleep.

like usual, your mind shifts to him. does he drink coffee in the morning? how many of those white dress shirts does he own? what does his house smell like? does he make a good smoothie?

these questions, once again, couldn’t be drowned with a cup of caffeine, but when he glances over his shoulder and flashes you a wave, the questions silent themselves.

he’s handsome.

you knew this, your heart knew this, your mind knew this, and certainly your body knew this. the hum between your legs was never going to stop when he looked your way.

you lift your coffee cup into the air before taking a sip from the hot contents. it soothes your brains rambles down and puts the energy you need right back into you. the work day was just beginning, and Toto was just heading out the door.

what a shame, you wished he could’ve stayed. oh the things he missed when he’s gone.

—

the evenings are a bit lonely when the sun goes away and the stars crawl in, you watch the rest of Monaco get ready for lavish celebrations while you stick to a movie and a snack.

he’s just arrived home. you hear the rumble of his car in your quiet cul de sac. he kills the engine and before you know it there’s a knock at your front door. it’s rare, you never get visitors, unless for the elder neighbors begging to help you with your garden, but even then they knew to never knock and just help themselves. so this knock was awfully unusual.

unlocking the door to see Toto was a surprise. he stands there, brief case in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, with a goofy grin.

“I don’t really drink wine, did you want this?” he asks, extending the expensive bottle of red outward towards you. he’d noticed in your bag of toiletries the bottle of cheap red wine, and when he’d been gifted the rather expensive one from George for his birthday, he knew someone who might enjoy it more.

“you didn’t poison this, did you?” you take the bottle, and push open your door further to invite him inside.

“it was a gift from work, he would know better to not poison me.” he steps inside your house and allows you to close the door behind him. he gets a good look inside your place, the endless amount of candles, minimal paintings hung on the walls, and your infamous kitchen. the one he’s stolen many glances across at.

“and who is this he we should be blaming if we die?”

“George Russell.”

you chuckle at the name, “he sounds very posh.”

you quickly pull out two wine glasses while he begins to undo the cork; once opened, he pours the liquid into the glasses for the both of you.

“with the money he gets, darling he makes posh look silly.”

you feel the butterflies rumble around your stomach, a blush creep across your cheeks as you take the glass from his hands, skin once again touching for the briefest moment.

“and how much is he making exactly?” you ask leading him to your deck where two Adirondack chairs are placed looking out at the sky. you don’t tend to come out here often, as the chairs were a gift from a friend, but the stars were shining just bright enough to enjoy.

“six million euros.”

you spit out the wine in your mouth, luckily it landed back into the glass, but it wasn’t a very classy move to make. not around the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d moved in. this was the most he’d ever spoke to you, and at this rate, he might not again.

“he could buy Monaco.”

“I could buy Monaco.” he corrects you with a mischievous smile that makes your heart pick up, and your stomach do a back flip. he looks good like that.

“alright what are you mr. Forbes?”

he laughs. it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. it answers your own question, the laugh sounds like it comes from his heart and his belly. it’s a genuine emotion.

“well I have been on Forbes, but is money really a concern to you?”

you shake your head violently at the question. you lean closer to the edge of your seat, legs crossed to try and tune out the hum in between your thighs, “no, never.”

“but I must say, you have to make a lot to afford those vintage Mercedes Benz’s that you drive.” you add to your statement. watching him nod, he takes a look up at the stars, it gives you a chance to take in his side profile. the stress creases across his forehead, the smile lines around his mouth, the dimple in his cheek. every part of him is jaw dropping.

“you don’t come out here very often, why’s that?” he turns to you, it’s his turn to take in your beauty as you stare up into the stars. they were much brighter away from the city, you always liked that the most.

“I didn’t notice you watched me that closely.” you joke, a smile forming to your lips that reaches your eyes. he’s never seen you smile much, you’re usually grumpy in the morning or lost into your thoughts while drinking your morning coffee. he enjoys this much more than the toiletry run in where you both were a bit on the edge of anxiety.

“I’m not home very often. I try to get out when I can, and you should too. I grill, I know how much you enjoy looking at me.” he says, and hesitantly places a hand against yours. his palm is warm, but nothing like clammy, just the kind that heats up your skin in the middle of winter. the skin to skin contact ignites the flame in you to burn like a warning signal, one that he notices. this man did many things to your brain.

“I’ve never seen you in anything but this shirt.” you remove your hand from underneath his and reach over across your chair to the plastic buttons holding the dress shirt together.

your fingers carefully undo the second button, the top one had already been undone since he doesn’t like to wear it that neat anyway. you can feel his breath hitch, his heart beat is pounding against your knuckles that gently glide against his skin.

“do you wear this all the time?” you pull away, resting back against the chair and watch him fix himself.

“it’s work attire.” he finally breathes. you both can hear him exhale all the pent up emotions. he turns to you, fingers reaching towards your collarbone where the charm of your necklace sits. it’s his turn for payback.

“and who bought you this lovely charm?”

“my mother.” it comes out a bit snippy. his knuckles against your collarbone slip away and for a moment you curse yourself for being so hostile to such an inviting man. one you’ve wanted for so long to get to know.

“who taught you how to talk to your neighbors like that?”

“my father. he was an ass.”

he barks out a laugh taking the last sip of his wine. you don’t want this to be over, and you’re thankful it’s not when he offers to pour refills for you both.

you watch him walk inside your house leaving you alone with the beautiful stars of the sky and your tempting thoughts. having him this close wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t any good. you’d want him as much as he was making the efforts to show, and the buzz in between your legs was loud enough for him to hear. he wanted you too. but what would this do for your friendship? truthfully, nothing. Toto Wolff wasn’t a friend, just a neighbor who sometimes gets your mail instead of his. you could live looking across the window knowing he fucked you senseless.

what drama this cul de sac would have, and it seems they haven’t experienced this much since you two came around and played ding dong fuck every other night.

I guess you both took loving thy neighbor a little too seriously, but you’re sure Jesus wouldn’t mind the kind of love you were making.

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa

want to be apart of my taglist? let me know here!

king of my heart requested!

toto wolff x ex!driver!reader

( Ok hear me out... Toto Wolff with a ex driver reader (first female driver maybe in redbull or Ferrari but retired) and she knew toto back when he was racing and she was racing and they liked each other but never confessed

Fast forward to now where she's been invited by (redbull/ Ferrari ) and idk somehow they reconnect )

In the heart of the bustling Formula 1 paddock, where speed and ambition were matched only by the relentless buzz of the media, Toto Wolff stood by the Mercedes garage, his delicate dark brown eyes scanning the sea of people moving about. It was another race weekend, but this time, there was something extraordinary in the air. He had received a message that someone from his past was back in the racing world. A name he hadn't heard in years: Y/N

You had been a trailblazer, a pioneer in a sport dominated by men. You were the first female driver to ever compete in Formula 1, but your career had been cut short due to an unfortunate accident that left you sidelined. Yet, you had never truly left the world of racing. You had become an advocate for women in motorsport, working tirelessly to break down the barriers that had kept so many talented females from reaching the pinnacle of racing.

As Toto watched the cars zipping by on the track, a voice called out his name. He turned to see a familiar face in the crowd. It was you, unmistakable with your beautifully tied hair and a smile that lit up the paddock. Toto felt a rush of emotions he hadn't experienced in years.

"Y/N," he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and delight.

"Toto," you replied, a hint of nostalgia in your voice. "It's been so long."

You embraced, the years melting away as you held each other. Toto couldn't help but remember your time as fellow drivers, the camaraderie you had shared, and the unspoken connection that had always simmered beneath the surface.

You walked through the paddock together, catching up on each other's lives. You had taken a break from racing to focus on your advocacy work, and your efforts were starting to bear fruit. You had even received invitations from both Red Bull and Ferrari to collaborate on their initiatives to promote diversity and inclusion in motorsport.

Over the course of the weekend, Toto and you found yourselves spending more and more time together. You attended team meetings, watched races, and shared meals. It was as if you had never been apart, and yet, there was a certain tension between you two, a question that lingered in the air, unspoken.

One evening, under the starry sky of the Grand Prix city, Toto and you found yourselves alone on a rooftop terrace, overlooking the glittering lights of the city below. The moment felt right, and the words spilled out.

"Y/N," Toto began, his voice soft but resolute. "There's something I've never told you."

You turned to him, your eyes curious and expectant. "What is it, Toto?"

"When we were both racing," he said, "there was something more than just friendship between us. I never had the courage to say it then, but I… I cared for you deeply."

Your eyes widened, and a smile played on your lips. "Toto, I felt the same way. But we were young, and the world of racing was a different place back then. We never got the chance to explore what might have been."

Toto reached out and took your hand, your fingers interlocking. "Y/N, the world of racing is changing now. And maybe it's time we explore what might have been. If you're willing."

Your eyes sparkled with a mix of emotion as you nodded. "I'd like that, Toto."

As you leaned in to share your first kiss, the city below continued to glitter, and the echoes of your past merged with the promises of the future. In a world where speed and ambition reigned supreme, your love story was a reminder that some connections, no matter how long they've been dormant, are simply meant to be.

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.”

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.

any feedback is good feedback

in another universe, you chose me.

in another universe, you were a good dad; someone i could be proud of

Okay so if it's okay I have a seb (rbr seb to be precise) request. We all know rbr seb was a menace, chaos lover and flirty (we all love him for that) so enemies to lovers (at least one sided because I have no doubt this man while loving by all grid also hated by some) with seb would be amazing... Imagine all the tension 🫣🫣 but happy ending of course because nowadays I need my healthy dosage of fluff with a bit of angst sprinkle 💗🙏🏻

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Lissie note… I am SO happy someone finally requested Seb<3 An enemies to lovers too!!! This prompt is pure gold! Really love the one-sided touch too. Thank you!!!

Things to note

This is set to start in late 2010 and progress from there on (only until Seb’s last year at rbr)

Accuracy to real driver standings will be off due to the reader insert

Michael did not get in any accident here<3

Reader is 22 and Sebastian is 23

Reader is with Mercedes, driving alongside Michael (put him instead of Rosberg because Michael knows Seb better. You’ll get it when you read)

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Mercedes!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, a little bit of cursing

Word Count: 6.4k+

Playlist Recommendations: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭💔, 𝐒𝐕𝟓

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat , @darleneslane

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

A master of your art. That’s what you liked to think of yourself as. You weren’t driven by fame or money. Rather the excitement of the rush. The feeling of hitting each apex just right— you relished in it. If there was one thing you really were driven by, however; it was winning a championship. You’d won a few races in your career and had your national anthem played for everyone to hear, but no more of that. Your sole goal was to receive the title above all other titles.

Your dreams of such were cut short by one Red Bull driver. Sebastian Vettel. You sat there at the prize-giving ceremony, waiting for Formula One racers to be called up. Michael sat next to you with Corinna. She gave you a sympathetic smile, knowing you missed out on the championship and landed 2nd overall.

Michael claimed Sebastian meant no ill will. He was just young and spirited. You begged to differ. The smirk he’d give you after winning a race begged to differ. His whole… shtick… begged to differ.

Alonso was called on stage to receive his award for landing 3rd, which meant that you had to be ready to receive yours too. You brushed down the sides of your dress, asking Corrina if you looked okay. She seemed surprised you’d even ask such a question but reassured you with a smile and a nod.

When your name was called, a thump in your heart reached the base of your throat. Podium celebrations were one thing, but the prize-giving was an entirely different thing altogether.

Although it was supposed to be a celebration, all you saw was a sea of pitiful glances. Most people knew of your unfortunate position, though many were too afraid to comment on it.

“Sebastian Vettel” Oh the great Sebastian Vettel! World’s youngest champion yet! That could’ve been you. Easily. You hated the thought of not being there on the highest step. The young German gave you a wink before he received his massive trophy. You were in front of hundreds of people and the ceremony was being taped, so you did nothing but smile and seem grateful.

Sure, you were actually grateful for receiving anything at all, but it all seemed like pity. All that was left was to throw your own pity party with a pint of Pinot and a sad romance movie.

The interviews were a nightmare. Every single one of them kept trying to sell you their act. All the while the questions surrounded your relationship with Sebastian. One of undoubted hate for one another. At least on your side.

You didn’t even bother going back to the hotel. The after-party was the one thing you actually looked forward to. The booze, mainly. Anything to drown out your sorrows, really. Oh, how you despised all the small gestures people did for you as an act of congratulating you. Your mixed feelings nearly slapped the vodka shot out of a waitress’ hand. You were a menace in this state.

“Easy on those shots, you came here alone. Wouldn’t want to go home too wasted.” A voice came up behind you.

“Well, that’s a little too late, Hamilton.” His look was that of genuine concern. He knew what you were doing. He knew exactly what that vodka was for.

“You’ll get him next time. At least you’re on the podium, right?” Great. Even one of your closest friends started to pity you.

“Fuck off, would you?” Luckily, he was very understanding and didn’t take any of your words to heart. He got out of your way and went to socialize. That’s when the coin fell. You were alone. He was right. You had no means of getting home. Taxis were rare in that part of town, and your hotel was far away. You were really in a pile of shit.

“Whatever,” you mumbled to yourself and one-shotted a sipping whiskey. It burned your throat with vigour and surged through your body like a pest.

Completely wasted, you felt extremely hot. It didn’t cross your mind to take a breather outside. No, instead, you slowly pulled the sleeve of your dress down. With your shoulder exposed, you could only chase that relief of cool air.

That attempt? Cut short. By none other than Sebastian Vettel. Perhaps a championship in interference would serve him well. He stopped you and pulled your sleeve back up. It felt like an insult. Another jab that he wanted to throw your way.

“Fuck off and let me do my thing,” you kept aimlessly pulling at your sleeve. The feat was just as great as your races against him.

“Stop it. You’re drunk.”

“Wow, I hadn’t noticed. You want another trophy for that discovery?” The friction against the soft satin of your dress eventually made it tear. Both of you froze before you got up and b-lined towards the exit. Anything to get away from him. You pushed through the masses of people in the club and eventually got outside.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rip your dress.” Much to your misfortune, the constant bother had followed you outside.

“You’ve already ruined more than just my dress. Must you ruin the rest of my night too?” You looked him deep in the eyes. You didn’t even have to act like you’d given up— because you most definitely had. No question.

“I’m about to make your night bearable if you’ll let me.” He took off his blazer and wrapped it around you, so you wouldn’t catch a cold in your skimpy dress. You hated the sentiment. You hated his whole “holier than thou” personality. Why? Because it was for show. He was nothing but a monster. He was behind many of your crashes and never gave you any space. You resented him for his quirky little stunts.

“Whatever, youngest world champion.” You couldn’t help but scoff at the title. He had played foul to win it. That title should’ve been yours, but no. Sebastian Vettel stole your glory.

“Come on, don’t be like that. At least value your own well-being. Let’s just get you a coffee to sober up with. You can curse me out as much as you want in the morning.” He tried to guide you forward, but you hunched over and up came all of your vodka shots. He held your hair back as you emptied out the contents of your stomach. It was revolting. You felt disgusting.

“I sure hope I won’t see you in the morning— let alone tomorrow.” Not exactly the toughest thing to say when you’re coughing for your life.

“You won’t even remember this, you know?”

“Makes it better. Then I don’t have to remember how I actually spent more than 10 minutes alone with you.” You were still hunched over, but the snarkiness in your voice triumphed that.

“You really dislike me, don’t you?” He chuckled.

“Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.”

The Red Bull champion ended up being right. You had completely forgotten about the exchange. Someone had hailed you a taxi and you’d drunkenly gotten yourself to your hotel room. That’s how you remembered it. You were still bitter about the ceremony and Sebastian’s selfish attitude. Sure, you’d expect nothing less from a racer, especially in Formula One, but he was a different kind of heartless. He mocked you. He didn’t care if he hurt you on track. That was your own fault.

Sebastian Vettel was your sworn enemy.

The media had become desensitized to your drama with him, as something always happened at every race. It was impossible to not argue with the guy. All he cared about was winning and he wasn’t in the sport to make friends. It was almost as if he wanted to be hated. You simply couldn’t understand how he and Lewis managed to get along. They somehow managed to separate their work from their friendship. You had that relationship with most of the grid, but Sebastian was too unsportsmanlike for your taste. Michael always tried to reason with you, often softening the blow of some of Vettel’s words, saying he “didn’t mean it” or was “just worked up”. You looked up to Michael, but you could never back that. It was bull. Sebastian had no redeeming qualities. He was overly flirtatious and aggressive. You hated that.

Every interview he had with a woman was met with his flirty remarks and his devious smile. You always had to sit there and soak in his gloating. He was insufferable.

“I really don’t see what the problem is. He’s just really obsessed with his career, no?” You had invited your friend out for brunch before your plane. The first race of the season was in Australia. Mark Webber’s home race. A challenge for Sebastian. Mark was tired of his teammate. Much like yourself. You could smell a possible truce. Although that’d be foul play. Unsportsmanlike of you. Were you going to be the bigger person? Of course. You were mature.

“He makes me want to crash my car into his. I should definitely do that in Australia.” You were not mature.

“You don’t mean that. Besides, it’s not even that deep. You don’t have to make something big out of the rush he gets from being in the moment. Don’t you also cuss at your engineer from time to time?” She had a valid point, but it went into one ear and straight out the other. You loved her to death, but she was spewing nonsense.

“Sebastian is an asshole. That’s the bottom line. Whose side are you on anyway?!” You scolded. She twirled her fork in the pasta and let out a faint chuckle.

“Of course, I’m on your side… but you can’t lie. Sebastian is cute.” It was official. Your friend was possessed.

“In what world? I told you about his dirty tricks. How is he still cute?” He was the devil in disguise. Some drivers were able to see it, but most were gullible enough to even befriend him. Your hatred didn’t come from a place of jealousy. It came from a place of being cast aside because of him. Time and time again. It was tiring, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The Mercedes car wasn’t nearly as fast as Red Bull. You desperately wanted it to be.

“Whatever. What I’m saying is, maybe he’s not all that bad off-track.” Oh, but he was. His flirtatious behaviour off-track was nearly as bad as his insufferable one on track. You couldn’t stand it.

“He is. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Your friend drove you to the jet and the two of you exchanged a few hugs and whatnot. She wished you good luck before you got on.

Inside, you saw many familiar faces. Michael being one of them. He pointed to the seat across from his own and signalled for you to sit. When you did, he leaned forward and you could already tell he was going to talk about your least favourite driver again. For whatever reason, he was set on trying to change your mind. “Seb is not a bad person”, “He’s just young and hot-headed”, and “He doesn’t know any better”… all of those excuses meant nothing to you. Sebastian was just that; a dirty driver.

“So, let’s find a way to beat him this year, yes?” You were taken aback. He never said something like that. Sure, he’d console you and help you through your sorrows of finishing behind Vettel, but he was always neutral. Never on either “side”. Though he did tend to seem like he was on Sebastian’s.

“We’re in a Mercedes. I don’t see any way for us. It’s just straight down on the charts. I mean, will I even be able to land a podium this year? I heard McLaren have been pulling their weight for this year. Like… a lot.” Michael contemplated what to say for a moment, but tried to console you nonetheless. He was a father, so he’d gotten quite good at that.

“We can still put up a good fight, right?”

“I suppose.” You could only hope for a miracle. Christian Horner was unrelenting with his new golden boy, Sebastian. The Red Bulls were unstoppable. You had no other choice but to follow Michael’s spirit. Just put up a good fight.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

It was practice day. You were getting ready, suiting up, and seating yourself in the car. Your heart was beating fast. It had been a while since you last sat in a real car. You’d done your fair share of sim racing whilst on break, but it was nothing compared to the real deal.

“Good luck,” your engineer clapped your helmet before you were released. The car felt surprisingly great. It was smooth and you felt like it synced well with your driving style.

Then came Sebastian. Again. He sped past you. Although you couldn’t see him, you just knew he was smirking behind that helmet of his. He relished in your mental torment. It was his source of amusement.

You finished P3. Lewis finished P2 and Sebastian, yet again, finished P1. It was only the first round of practice though. You promised yourself that you’d do everything in your power to finish P1 in the qualifying session.

You didn’t keep your promise. You fell short and landed a finishing spot at P2. Devastating, but your team was happy you got a front-row start anyway. Whenever the interviews finished, you tried to find Michael. Only to see him chatting with him. They were having a laugh— joking around. The sight made you furious. Again, not in jealousy, but the sheer thought that Michael fell for Sebastian’s shtick.

“Hey, Michael. Could we talk? There’s something about the car.” The interjection was abrupt and one might even call it rude, but did you care? Absolutely not. You had no reason to whatsoever. It was Vettel after all.

“Actually, I was just saying goodbye to Sebastian. Corinna is waiting for me outside. How about you tell me tomorrow? Maybe talk to the engineers too. Anyways, see you guys!” Just great. You sighed as you watched your teammate leave.

“That’s some rejection,” said the German standing next to you. Ugh. Wrong German.

“What do you want?”

“Let’s grab coffee sometime soon.” What? You were used to his flirty remarks being directed at the interviewers and whatnot… but this?

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Unbelievable. He was unbelievable. You scoffed and put your hand in front of his face before walking off. Giving him the satisfaction of an answer wasn’t exactly your style, and it wouldn’t ever be.

“You didn’t say no!” He yelled from behind you. Ignoring him, you made a turn so that you’d disappear from his sight. His presence was exhausting and downright draining.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

“Box box,” said your engineer. You were on hards and chasing Sebastian who was on hards as well. It made no sense to pit after a mere 23 laps.

“Are you sure? I’ve got a good chance here. I don’t think it’s time. We didn’t discuss this.” The original plan was to pit when Sebastian would, and it seemed like he was going to do a one-stop.

“We’re sure. You need to get on mediums. We just switched Michael too. Get in.” You sighed and got ready to slow down in the pit lane. It was painful to see Sebastian take the win like that. P1 felt like a distant dream for you at that point.

“This better work. I swear, this better fucking work.” You were beyond frustrated about your current position in P8. The pit stop had taken longer than expected, making you lag a few places behind. Oh, how you couldn’t stand the idea of Sebastian rubbing his victory in your face. His first victory of the season.

You upped your game, completing smooth overtake after smooth overtake. All the way up until you regained your position right behind the Red Bull. There was a slight problem though. The car was starting to feel unusually hot. Sweat trickled down your face and the visor looked as if it was raining. You weren’t going to report rain though, as you knew your team would if there was any.

“Fuck, guys, it’s too hot!” You yelled over the radio. As expected, all your engineer replied with was a simple “copy”. It was swift communication, you knew that, but it sure as hell was frustrating. It felt like you weren’t getting any attention at all.

Your team performed pit stops rather quickly, which was a plus whereas everything else was a minus. It didn’t cancel out, but at least it helped combat some of the other problems your car had.

As most had predicted though, you were unable to overtake Sebastian or his new nickname “the finger”, and were stuck in P2. You couldn’t even enjoy the podium celebration. Sure, you sprayed some champagne and chugged a bit, but did you enjoy it? Not particularly. Michael had told you to not worry and just give it your all, but it was hard to forget when Vettel was in the way. His smug grin as he held his trophy and stuck his pointer in the air… you wanted to crush his ego. So bad. You were going to relish in the moment when Sebastian would lose out on a championship. It was going to be an unforgettable moment to be sure.

“You can’t be satisfied, can you?” Sebastian came up to you after the celebration. He was the last person you wanted to see at that moment, but his gloating was inevitable. Might as well get it over with.

“Not by you, I can’t.”

“You must know how that sounds.” Yeah, you were going to lose your mind. He successfully pulled off a tasteless and baseless trap. You walked straight into it like an insect stuck in a spiderweb.

“Whatever.” You took off your race suit, leaving on the fireproof suit to cover your body for the time being. It was already hot enough as is.

“Cute.” You’d gotten used to his little flirty remarks and comments. It was basically white noise.

“You’re not.”

“I was referring to you, you know.” He was quite literally impossible.

“Must you really make me suffer with your presence any longer? Isn’t winning and doing your little finger thing enough?!” When you started raising your voice, it grabbed people’s attention, so the young Red Bull driver pulled you with him to his motorhome.

“Did I not just enlighten you about my discomfort in your presence or did I daydream that?” You scoffed at him and pulled your arm from his grip.

“Look, I’m done trying to ignore your contempt for me. Do you seriously think that I will apologize for winning? This isn’t grade school. I was driving, I was faster, I won. Simple as that. If you can’t accept it and take the loss, then you really shouldn’t be racing.” Your heart sank to the bottom of your chest. Each sentence was like a dagger to the chest. You felt every little soul-crushing word in your gut.

“Wow… you really are more of an asshole than I thought. I don’t care that you won. I care that you gloat. I care that you don’t care about me. You don’t care about any of the others. We could die for all you care. Do you want me to die? Is that it?” All rationality had left your mind the moment he insulted you. Red was all you could see.

“You’re twisting my words. I merely said that I won’t apologize for winning. I never said I wanted anyone injured.” He was right, and you knew that. Deep down, you knew that he was just like you. Passionate about the sport. The only difference was that he was in a winning car… and you unfortunately weren’t. Was it his fault? You were too blindsided by rage to even consider any other possibilities.

“By the way you drive, I beg to differ.”

“You’d be lying to me and yourself if you were to tell me you’ve never gotten caught up in the moment. You know exactly how that feels.” He somehow had a counter for everything you threw at him.

“What about your constant flirting? Why do you keep rubbing your victory in my face like that?” The look on his face contorted into that of a confused one.

“What do you mean?” He asked, obviously at a complete loss.

“You asked me out for coffee.” You said whilst confidently crossing your arms over your chest.

“You seriously think that’s a front for something?” He almost found it amusing. The way you overanalyzed his motives.

“You don’t think a guy can be the least bit interested in you?” Before you had the chance to respond, Mark walked in with Christian behind him. That was your cue to leave, so you did without hesitation.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

It had been a good while since you last had a real talk with Sebastian. A few years to be exact. The jabs and games were still happening. Neither of you had dared address any of it, but one thing remained stuck in your head like a broken record; “You don’t think a guy can be the least bit interested in you?” Every day and night, that thought passed through the thousands of others. It stood out. It was like the moon in a starry sky.

During those years, Michael had retired. It broke your heart, but seeing as Lewis replaced him; it wasn’t all that bad. Mercedes had gotten increasingly better as well— which meant that you had a better chance at beating Sebastian for every year that passed.

Lewis, being one of your closest friends on the grid, agreed to help you win your first championship. The Red Bulls had their run. It was time for Mercedes to shine. You needed to win.

“Lewis, I don’t think I can do it this race. There are too many low-speed corners. Red Bull will take this one home… Sebastian will take this one home.” You sat in your garage and moped as Lewis leaned against a pillar opposite you.

“It’s fine. They’re basically useless in high-speed corners this year. Besides, you already have 3 wins over him. Just one race won’t hurt. Well… it’ll sting, but see if you can land a podium, yeah?” Did you even want to try? You knew that Sebastian would mock you either way. It was almost as if your world didn’t revolve around the championship anymore. It was all about him. All about Sebastian.

“Yeah nah. I don’t think I can.” You stared at your feet. The race shoes were starting to feel clammy around them.

“Do you really believe that’s the mindset of a winner? No. Just think about doing whatever you can do. You don’t have to care about anyone else when you’re out there. Let yourself loose.” Lewis was right. You did care too much. You seldom crashed into anyone, all because you cared for their safety.

You ended up winning. You didn’t know how it happened or what you did to make it happen. Lewis’ words just kept swirling inside your brain; “Let yourself loose.”

You stood patiently and waited for the interviewer to finish up with P3 and P2, watching as Sebastian looked ever so disappointed. It was humorous. You felt amazing. The other wins you lorded over him didn’t feel that liberating. They felt good, but not great.

“—And here’s the deadly Mercedes! You were on fire today! We did not expect this aggressive approach from you. It was breathtaking. What did you do differently?” That was the question. What did you do differently? You stopped caring. You remembered you weren’t in the sport to make friends. You were there to win.

“I mean, I did what I had to do, really. I focused on winning and I listened to great advice. I simply just won.” The interviewer looked at you with a question mark etched onto her forehead but didn’t press further on that question.

“I know your first loss to Sebastian proved quite upsetting, would you say the tables have turned?” She smiled at you. It was clear from the beginning that she was on your side. After all, being the only female racer on the grid— you had a magnetic effect on fans of the sport.

“I can’t say for sure yet, but I can definitely hope!” Your voice was cheery and sweet, but that was just a front. You couldn’t wait for his downfall. Standing on that stage at the ceremony, watching all life drain from Sebastian’s eyes. That was your goal.

People had every right to tell you off, but at what cost if you didn’t care? Lewis had just helped you unlock the very thing that could potentially destroy the smug Red Bull driver.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

The season was going smoothly. Fans roared in your favour and even threw gifts at you whenever you went on the scene. Yours and Sebastian’s roles had switched. You were the new fan favourite. Everyone could attest to that fact.

There was a slight thing bugging you, however. The many Instagram and Facebook fan pages that were dedicated to shipping you with Sebastian. They made edits, they came up with extreme theories… It was mortifying.

People in the Mercedes garage weren’t quiet either. If anything, they were even worse. Constantly bugging you about your “obvious” chemistry with Sebastian and whatnot. Which, in your opinion, didn’t exist.

You only harboured hate for the man. He was foul. Through and through… right?

Lies. Although you didn’t dare tell anyone, you didn’t quite hate him anymore. After letting go and caring less, you felt like you could finally see things from his perspective. It made you realize that he just wanted to win. Well, on top of mocking you. That was what had your mind in knots. He claimed he only teased you because of your reactions, but he refused to acknowledge your obvious distaste for it.

He had, however, begun to limit his snarky comments and cruel smirks. He actually started distancing himself. He rarely spoke to you and only ever interacted with you when the two of you landed a podium together.

You felt like something was missing.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Lewis asked. The two of you were sitting in your respective chairs in the cooldown room. He had somehow scored a P2 finish, with you upfront and Vettel in P3.

“Oh, nothing. Sorry. Zoned out, I guess?” You stretched your arms and wiped a bead of sweat off your forehead. Sebastian watched you throw the towel onto Lewis’ lap. Your teammate threw it back and the two of you shared a silly moment.

Something brewed inside the young Red Bull racer. He had been slacking off. He knew that all too well. His teammate, Daniel Ricciardo, was going to outscore him. There was nothing he could do about it. Not when Mercedes had gotten the upper hand. Not when you were in the way. The only pain he felt was from watching you with Lewis. He despised seeing you all happy-go-lucky. That was it. No, it wasn’t. He hated seeing you joke around with the other drivers. The sight of you laughing at a mechanic’s joke? His blood boiled.

The courage he once had was slipping. Much like his performance. He couldn’t focus on winning when losing was his only way to reach his ultimate goal.

“We should probably get going. Time to listen to your national anthem… yet again,” Lewis jokingly sighed and ruffled your hair, whilst you rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

You saw a cheerful sea of Mercedes employees. A 1-2 finish. Any team would be ecstatic if their drivers pulled that off.

Sebastian stood next to you. He couldn’t bring himself to muster even the smallest smile. Putting it mildly, his plan was starting to look like it had gone to shit. Not only was he losing the races, he was losing…

“Lew, look at this,” you grinned. Lewis obliged and was met with a burst of champagne. He let out a small yelp before picking up his bottle and spraying you.

Although he probably had a reason, you were beginning to hate how Sebastian never even spoke to you. The only solution; spray him. You poured a cold shot down his neck, to which he jerked his shoulders forward in an uncomfortable motion. It made him smile. Your heart swelled with some form of comfort in knowing you could make him feel some sort of joy.

Was that Lewis’ design all along? Making you see things from Vettel’s perspective? Perhaps. Whatever it was, you knew that your hatred for him had faded. This was replaced with stealing small glances and a spike in your heart rate when he was near.

You often felt your heart pump thickly in your throat. Your insides were littered with butterflies. You felt all jittery around him. Well, until he stopped with his flirting. He completely stopped interacting with you. It had your stomach in a twist. Were you too late? Did you not do enough?

“You don’t think a guy can be the least bit interested in you?”

You knew exactly who you had to see.

It was perfect, given that the next race wasn’t that coming weekend. You decided to give Michael a call, asking if you could see him at his house in Switzerland. Him being something of a father figure— said yes.

It was time to dig into the past. Not through the eyes of who you once were, but who you became. You were able to see things from every angle. Sebastian had clearly flirted out of sheer fun and mischief, but something underlined that cause. You. It was foolish of you to be so blinded with rage and hatred, that you couldn’t see him for what he was. A man who was struggling to keep your undivided attention. You weren’t yet convinced, but surely Michael would be able to set you straight.

You first greeted Corinna and the kids, who were not so much kids anymore. Michael came down to give you a hug and invite you to his cosy home office. He brewed some tea and placed it on the table.

“It’s so nice to see you again. I haven’t quite gotten used to retirement, but I did it once before, so I can definitely do it again!” He chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re still holding up well. I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to know that Mercedes is leading at the moment.” You smiled at him and took a sip of the tea he’d made for you.

“I have been following up. I watch almost every race, actually. Whenever my kids have time, we throw on the sports channel and watch you and Sebastian. That’s to say they always have time for that. In fact, my son, Mick— his dream is to race for Mercedes.” Mick was growing steadily and did karting regularly. You didn’t see why he wouldn’t be able to earn a seat at Mercedes eventually.

“About that… I came here for advice… regarding Sebastian.” As embarrassing as it was to beat around the bush, saying things like that outright was not exactly your forté.

“What, did he finally confess?” You were dumbstruck by his sudden question.

“Excuse me? What?”

“Well, you see, he was always coming to me and asking me how to get you to talk to him. I always said that he could figure things out for himself. By your reaction, however, I’m guessing that didn’t exactly work?” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers.

“He was crazy about you, I remember. The more riled up you got, the more he’d come to me for advice. It became routine for us to sit and talk, actually.” You had your suspicions, but never did you know that he was actually into you. Those fan pages and edits could’ve only fueled it. Your heart was beating faster and faster. It felt like it was nearly about to burst. Definitely, because you didn’t like him like that. You were just starting to sympathize. Nothing romantic. At all. No. Nothing.

“You know what I think?” Michael added when he saw your tomato-red face.

“I think he’s losing those races on purpose. Just to satisfy your needs. For a long time, he wanted to earn as many world championships as myself, but recently… something else seems to be stuck in his mind. I think his priorities lie elsewhere now.” You ran your fingers through your hair in frustration. Your heart couldn’t stop going faster than your car on race day.

“I also think you may feel something for him too.”

“Thank you, Michael. Truly… but I have to go.” You booked the earliest flight out. Needing some time alone with your thoughts.

Michael was almost always right. In this situation? There was no way he wasn’t.

Sebastian Vettel, I hate you.

You were back on the top again. The podium was the exact same as the last race. The celebration was grand. It was all pretty much the same. Your focus was more on getting time alone with Sebastian.

After everything had died down, you decided to visit the Red Bull motorhome and knocked on Vettel’s door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked with a surprised look on his face, upon opening the door.

“We need to talk. Invite me in?” He let you walk past him.

“What is it? Are you here to blackmail me?”

“What? No. Why would I ever do that?” Your face grimaced at his idea.

“I don’t know, I’m just not feeling that great right now.” He was all mopey and looked as if someone had sucked all the life force out of him.

“I actually came to talk to you about… um… well, us.” You were fiddling with your fingers in your lap, too scared to look him in the eyes.

“Us?”

“I spoke to Michael.” You weren’t sure how to lead the conversation from start to finish.

“You did?”

“He told me about everything.” Your eyes met his in a flash of awkwardness.

“Look, that was a long time ago and—”

“I don’t hate you anymore,” you cut off. His eyes lit up at your words.

“What do you mean by that?” Was he really that desperate to hear you say it, or were you too scared to say it?

“I don’t know… I guess it means you can start flirting with me again or whatever…” you mumbled sheepishly. It felt so embarrassing to tell him face to face. Your heart was thumping louder than the pit stops Mercedes did. Your face was redder than the Ferraris.

“Could we see where this takes us? I mean, if you’d like.” He seemed to be just as embarrassed about it as you. It was kind of cute, actually.

“Yes… I’d like that.” Although the conversation was surprisingly short, it left a huge impact on Sebastian. He was more or less depressed on the podium but the interviews that followed? He was a firecracker. He acted as if he’d won the lottery, smiling like an idiot and stealing glances from you here and there. It was an odd but welcome, warm feeling that spread throughout your body.

Who would’ve thought? Both Lewis and Michael were able to set you straight. You used to care too much. You used to think about yourself only, when it came to Sebastian. It was impossible to put yourself in his shoes until Lewis taught you otherwise. Your feelings? You would’ve let yourself crush them over time, had it not been for your talk with your mentor.

Much time passed, and you had won races upon races. You were still getting much-needed advice on everything from races to simple daily routines, by Michael. Sometimes you went to Lewis. He was easier to reach and you were always able to have quick conversations with him before the races. Everything had accumulated to the current momentum. The glory that you were about to relish in. The people you were about to make proud.

You sat in your seat with Sebastian on your side. He had only recently asked you to be his. It took some dates and deep, meaningful talks before you got there, but the wait was worth it. Life had never felt better. You were completely enamoured with Sebastian. The feeling was more than mutual. He was helplessly and irrevocably in love with you.

He was called to the stage as 3rd overall. The crowd cheered, but you cheered the loudest. If you had told your past self that you would be cheering him on at the ceremony, you would’ve never believed yourself.

Lewis was called next and you were called last. Sebastian couldn’t stop smiling at you. People were cheering and you were in a state of euphoria.

Your trophy was the biggest, brightest, and most grand in the room. However, it could never compare to the adoration on your boyfriend’s face, as he saw you hoisting it up into the air.

After all the interviews and the longest ride back to your hotel, you crashed onto your shared bed with your lover. The two of you stared at the blank ceiling, feeling a state of absolute tranquillity. The two of you had come so far.

“I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian turned his head to face you.

“Thank you, Seb.” You followed suit.

“Do you think we wasted too much time?” You asked. In all honesty, a tinge of guilt hit you every now and then. If only you had come to terms with yourself and your feelings earlier…

“All that time was worth hearing you tell me that you love me. I don’t think we wasted even a single moment. Everything that has happened so far… you know, it all built up to this.” You smiled at him and pulled him into a loving kiss.

Sebastian Vettel, I love you.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

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minors dni

so i'll take the nightshift

sebastian and his ex wife have a chat after the last weeks events

part one here

wc: 1.3k words

cw: absent father? again not intentional

It had been a week since you had admitted to both yourself and your daughter that you missed Sebastian. In that week, he had been at your apartment first thing on Monday morning to pick her up so that he could spend his week with her, since he had already missed her birthday - which was truly no fault of his own - he had vowed he would treat her like the princess you both knew she was for the whole week he was able to spend with her. You knew that Sebastian was a great father, in your daughter's eyes? The best - even if her mommy and daddy didn't live together, she knew that they both loved her with everything that they had. Your week without her had been peaceful enough, managing to get all the housework that needed done did before her arrival - But the silence that came with the lack of her had you deep in your thoughts, as you remembered your admittance of missing your ex-husband: You were hoping that she wouldn't relay what you had said to Sebastian.

You were sat on the couch, Sebastians throw blanket tucked around you - You couldn't bare to get rid of it after you had separated, everything else was fair game, but part of you didn't want Sebastian out of your life entirely, you still loved him and missed him dearly. Hearing the door knock, you paused the movie playing on the TV, your daughter had already walked in on you watching a horror movie before, and you would rather not want to go through that again. Keeping Sebastians blanket wrapped around you, you heaved yourself up off of the couch and shuffled to the front door, opening it and seeing your daughter asleep in her father's arms.

"Oh, hey," You greeted him, your heart stopping as you realised that this was really the first time you had come face to face with your ex since you had admitted missing him, the Monday past where he had picked her up, you had been too busy getting her ready to really have a minute to process your feelings.

"Hi, I don't know if she's pretending to be asleep or not but she's not waking up," He smiled at her and then you, and you returned the smile, remembering the days where she would be pretending to be asleep to get you or Sebastian to carry her into the house. "Can I come in?" Sebastian asked you, you nodded in response, stepping aside to let him come into your apartment.

"How was she?" You asked him, brushing her blonde curls out of her face as she slept peacefully in her father's arms. Sebastian smiled, he held so much love for the daughter that you and him had created and loved nothing more than getting to spend time with her - well, he loved one thing maybe a bit more.

"She was great, I'm sure she'll tell you all about it when she wakes up, she's really talkative now, huh?" You chuckled at Sebastians words and nodded, you knew all too well how chatty your daughter could be, especially when she was excited or had something fun to tell you.  You sighed as you realised that you couldn't deal with the conflict that you felt within you anymore, you needed to talk to Sebastian about how you were feeling, about how your daughter was feeling.

"Seb, can we talk?" You asked him, placing a hand on your daughter's small back and then looking up at Sebastian, who nodded in response to your question. "You can put her to bed if you want, her room is down the hall and to the left." He smiled and nodded, internally fighting the urge to place a small kiss on your lips like he would always do. You paced your living room as you thought of how to vocalise your feelings without bursting into tears.

"Is everything okay, Y/N?" Sebastian asked you, as he settled down on your couch and watched as you sat down beside him, playing with the bracelet that your daughter had made you. You sighed, knowing that if you didn't do this now, then you never would. 

"(Name) missed you last week, she was devastated when you didn't make it to her party," You started telling him, your heart breaking as you remembered the heart break of your daughter as she told you of her upset at the absence of her father at her party. "And I had to tell her the same thing that I used to tell myself, that it was because this was your job and that you couldn't help it and then she said that she missed you and then I said-"

"That you miss me too," Sebastian cut you off, frowning as he looked at you. "She told me, I was putting her to bed and she told me that you were upset because you missed me." Your heart stopped as you sighed, rubbing your face.

"The worst part is that I mean it, Sebastian," You told him. "I miss you, but I don't miss you being gone all of the time, not hearing your voice for days because of the time differences, but now I have to make the same excuses I made for myself for you being gone to our daughter, Sebastian." Your voice was wavering and you knew that at any point, you would burst into tears and his next words would determine the possibility of that. He reached forward to hold your hand as he always did when he could tell that you were getting worked up, even separated, he still knew you so well.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to be retiring at the end of this season," He dropped the biggest bomb you had possibly ever heard. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him, you didn't understand - Sebastian loved his career, so why is he giving it up.

"What? Sebastian, you love racing," You voiced. Sebastian chuckled as he shook his head, still holding your hand in his.

"I do, but I love you and (Name) more, and I don't want to miss out on any more of our girl growing up," He told you, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you gained some sort of inkling where this was going - were you ready for this again? Was he being genuine? Of course he was. Again, even separated, you knew your ex well. "And I'm not expecting you to take me back straight away, I know me being gone so often really hurt you in ways that I could never imagine, but I would really like for us to try again. I still love you, Y/N. I think I always will love you." 

You didn't even think over his offer of trying again before you threw yourself into his arms, craving the feelings of his touch after being starved of it for so long. You were getting your Sebastian back. 

"I don't think I ever stopped loving you, Seb," You cried, looking into his eyes which mirrored your daughters perfectly. He laughed as he looked into yours, finding nothing but the woman he had loved since their first meeting, the woman who was the mother of his beautiful daughter, the woman he loved.

"Me neither, my love."

Maybe this time, things wouldn't be the same, but better. 

note: idk whether I love or hate this pls give me some feedback to work with

☾you've got a 9 to 5☽

in which sebastian and his ex-wife are still in love with each other

c/w: angst, mentions of an absent father (not intentionally), divorce

w/c: 1k words

based on this request

You hated that you still loved your ex-husband, your first love, your first everything - He was everything to you. You had taken the heartbreaking decision to  file for divorce from Sebastian when he had signed for Aston Martin, you couldn't bare to spend more time alone than you already did due to the nature of his care, as much as it broke your heart to make the decision that you did, you knew that you had to; otherwise you would end up in a vicious cycle of loneliness, spending nights upon nights sleeping in what felt like an empty bed without your husband.

You sighed as you sat down on the couch, the days events finally catching up with you since you didn't have a minute to rest. Between work and your other commitments, you found yourself rarely having a moment to yourself these days - and it was on these days you found yourself missing Sebastian, missing the way that he would make all your worries disappear in an instant and missing the immense comfort he provided. As if adding salt to the wound, you turned the TV channel from some kids channel and you saw his face.

Up upon the podium stood your ex-husband, his trademark mile wide grin on his face as he held the first place trophy, raising it up above his head in celebration. Watching him broke your heart all over again, you remembered his red bull days when you were both young, head over heels in love with each other, barely married and dumb with love - He dedicated every podium win to you, claiming that you were his good luck charm wherever he was, even if you couldn't be with him. You felt your eyes welling up with tears as you watched him pop the bottle of champagne, of course the first race you managed to watch following your divorce, he would win, just your luck, right? Right. 

For some reason, you felt like torturing yourself even more than you already were by even just watching the race, and decided that you would watch the post-race interviews, just because you felt like driving the knife already deep in your heart, in even further. You watched Sebastian talk with an interviewer about how the race had gone, how he felt about winning.

"And it was never any secret that you always dedicated your podiums to your wife, Y/N, is that still something you do?" You felt your heart stop at the question. You and Sebastian had been very quiet about your divorce and had managed to keep it under wraps, neither of you wanted something as heartbreaking and difficult as this out in the world, no, that was your business, no one else's. Sebastian gave a nervous chuckle and then a smile, he knew he had to be honest, and he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, hoping that if you were watching that you would see how sincere he was being.

"Yes of course, I love Y/N very much," He stopped there for now, feeling himself well up at the fact that he still held so much love for you, yet his career had driven you away from him. He understood though, your decision had torn you apart and you knew that he loved you, you just couldn't handle him being gone more than he was around. "I dedicate this, and every podium to her, I love her so much." Sebastian smiled, tears in his eyes as he finished up with the interviewer.

You couldn't hold it together any longer, feeling your strength dissolve, you burst into tears at his confession - He still loved you and probably always would. Over your crying, you missed the sound of the footsteps coming towards you, only looking up when you felt two small hands patting your hair.

"Mama?" 

You looked up at your daughter, who was her fathers spitting image - curly blonde hair, the same stunning blue eyes, she was all Sebastian.

"You okay?" Her small voice was laced with concern as she saw your tear stained face, a small pout on her face as she feared what had upset her mama. You sniffled as you nodded, lifting her up for her to be sitting on your lap, leaning on your chest.

"I'm okay, baby, I promise," You assured her, smoothing her hair down. "You're not sleepy, huh? Too much sugar at your birthday party I think, princess," A small smile graced your face at her small giggle and the shake of her head. "Mhm, yeah, I think so."

"No, mama," She replied, giggling as you tickled her sides. You swore hearing your little girls laughter almost made you forget how much you missed her father. "Why wasn't papa at my party, mama?" She turned her big blue eyes up at you, a sad pout on her face at the absence of her beloved papa from her 5th birthday party. You swallowed the lump in your throat that appeared at the sudden emergence of her question. "Did he not want to be there?"

"No, Meine Liebe, your papa had a race this weekend, but I promise you when he gets back on Monday he'll here to pick you up and you get to spend the whole week with him, doesn't that sound fun?" You told her, watching as she perked up a little at the mention of getting to spend a whole week with her father. "He is really sorry that he couldn't be there today, honey, he can't help it." First you were making excuses for him to yourself, and now you were making them to your daughter, the tiny human that you had created together.

"I miss him, mama," She said, giving you a tired yawn as she rested her head on your shoulder, sleepiness finally catching up with the small girl.  You sighed sadly.

"I know, I miss him too baby girl."