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★ requested﹕yes/no — summary﹕in which you share chocolate, childhood memories and maybe a few kisses — warnings﹕another shit ton of pure fluff, crying but not necessarily angst, google translated finnish, probably not well proof read, kissing (gagg!!), childhood best friends to lovers, family friends, use of 'y/n,' tell me if there's any i missed!! — pairing﹕kimi raikkonen 7 x reader — w/c﹕ ★ start a/n﹕hihii! second fic with my fav retired driver. i srsly dont see enough fics with him, so i decided to try to write my own. im so busy with schoolwork n i should be doin it rn buuuuuuuut i couldn't get this idea out of my head 🤭🤭 ౨ৎ 𝑫𝑻 (tag list) ;; none yet but open :)
〔 my last work | pinned post | masterlist | taglist | carrd | rules 〕
notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!
!!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK!!
౨ - 6 yrs old - ৎ
Little Kimi stood over you as you cried on the floor of your bedroom after you hurt your hand from drawing.
"Y/n?" Kimi crossed his arms.
You sniffle, trying to stop the tears. "..yes, Kimi?"
"Do you like Kit Kats?" You nod in answer, a little confused as to why he might be asking that.
Kimi takes out something from his pocket. "Have a Kit Kat." He takes off the wrapper, breaking the Kit Kat in half. He offers one Kit Kat piece to you. You hesitate before taking the Kit Kat, giving it a small bite.
Kimi sits in front of you in a criss-cross, placing his Kit Kat on the wrapper that layed on the floor next to him. He takes your hurt hand, giving it a little kiss. You wipe your tears with a smile.
"Better?" Kimi asks, a little softer in tone this time.
"Better." You nod, smiling widely. Kimi gives you a small smile, taking a bite of his Kit Kat.
౨ - 11 yrs old - ৎ
You watched from the sofa as Kimi walked into the pantry after a long day of karting. He came out with an unwrapped Kit Kat in his hand.
"Hi, Kimi-Kat." You say, going back to watching the TV.
Kimi tilts his head at you, visibly confused, his eyebrows furrowed. "'Kimi-Kat,' huh?" He asks curiously, in his usual monotone voice.
"Your favourite chocolate, Kit Kat + Kimi = Kimi-Kat!" You giggle from your seat.
You couldn't see it, but Kimi smiled. "Only you're allowed to call me that, then."
౨ - 22 yrs old - ৎ
Kimi throws off his racing suit as he enters your room, shutting the door behind him. You look up from your book as you sat on your bed.
"Bad race?" You ask softly, patting the seat next to you. Kimi flops down next to you.
"Yeah." He mumbled in response, looking at the ceiling as he layed on the bed.
You take something from your snack stash, taking the wrapper and cracking the chocolate in half. "Have a Kit Kat."
Kimi looks at you, then the chocolate in your hand. He gives you a small smile.
"What?" You look at him curiously, the Kit Kat pieces still held out in your hand. "I'll take both pieces if you don't want it. You always give me Kit Kats when I have a bad day. I should return the favour."
Kimi's small smile turns into a grin. He doesn't say anything, but he takes one Kit Kat piece and bites it. You smile at him, placing a bookmark in your book and putting it on your bedside table.
"Better?" You ask softly.
"Mm." He responds, finishing his Kit Kat.
You raise your eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean, Kimi-Kat?"
"I'm better. Ish." He shrugs.
"Kimiiii, what can I do to make it better?" You furrow your eyebrows, pushing some of his hair so you can see his face.
"A kiss."
A kiss?
You can't help but blush.
"Does the look on your face mean I can't get a kiss and my day can't get better?" Kimi smirks at you.
"Asshole. C'mere, Kimi-Kat." You wrap your arms around his neck, your lips meeting in a gentle manner.
Kimi grins against your lips, placing his arms around your waist as he let's you tackle him.
His tongue slides in, both of you tasting the sweet chocolate on eachothers lips.
A few moments later, you pull apart, looking into eachothers eyes. "I love you as much as I love Kit Kats." You giggle.
"I love you as much as anything." Kimi responds with a happy sigh.
chocolate love ; fin.
☆ end a/n﹕working on a better cover for fics once im free of school work! have a good day/night, angels <3
〔 my last work | pinned post | masterlist | taglist | carrd | rules 〕
notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!
!!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK!!
insane thoughts hours but i really can't stop thinking about being in the middle of a lewis + fernando sandwich... what do you think
it's insanely competitive - the moment they get you back to a hotel room, though you're not sure whose of theirs it is, you get the sense this might be more about a silent set of mind games between the two of them, and less about you.
the position keeps changing and it's hard to keep up with who's where, with whose hands are doing what to you. you don't really understand what the goal of this is, until lewis takes you apart on his tongue and fingers, sucking on your clit as you orgasm with his name moaned around fernando's cock.
it's like a switch has been flicked, then. fernando manhandling you so you're on his lap, your back to lewis (and fernando grins at his glare), sliding three, even four fingers into you and setting a relentless pace until you're biting down a scream into the thick muscle of his neck and squirting all over his hand.
you don't get to recover before lewis is pulling you back towards him, positioning you on your hands and knees before burying himself to the hilt in your oversensitive cunt, telling you to keep looking at fernando, baby as you gasp for breath with how fucking deep he is inside you. that's what this game is -- one upping each other with your body, showing off who is better.
(and, of course, if fernando makes you squirt, lewis needs to match it, beat it.)
fernando pulls you under him and hoists your legs to his shoulders after lewis makes you orgasm again, soaking the sheets one more, sobbing his name and digging your nails into his biceps. nando is equally merciless, slowly rolling his hips deep, your thighs pressed up to your chest, before setting a brutal pace.
when you cum again, you're limp on the bed, moaned names collapsing into incoherent moans and whines. when lewis slides his fingers into your cum-slicked pussy once again, you faintly register how deliciously, painfully long this night is going to be.
Hotch and his busy doctor girlfriend pregnant!you and Hotch have a spat Hotch comes home to a new pregnancy Hotch rescues you at low blood sugar Hotch takes care of you after a baby you cheer Hotch up with your bump you confess mutual love to a pining Hotch you, Jack, Hotch, and the baby go to bed you fail to mention a bad concussion Jack calls you mom, to your guilt you take your new baby to the store you have terrible morning sickness your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time you get your wisdom teeth removed Hotch is flustered by your glasses Hotch rubs your back when you cry after a fight Hotch is the only one who can calm the baby Hotch pulls you aside when you’re sad you’re extremely new to dating you’re stressed about being pregnant Hotch saves you from torture Jack misses your attention you have a baby, and Jack comes to meet her you don’t notice Hotch’s crush on you Hotch meets Spencer’s older sister
Hotch flirts with Jack’s favourite teacher Hotch helps and flirts with teacher!you Hotch crosses a line with Jack’s teacher
Hotch and his bombshell in hot weather you faint, to Hotch’s horror you insist a hug is the only cure you and Hotch hide your relationship Hotch takes your makeup while you doze
give you my wild
{sebastian vettel x fem!reader}
in which you think sebastian might make a really good dad. (inspired by this post and this video.)
warnings: yeah it’s smutty (i mean what else do i write) - unprotected sex with him coming inside her, risky public (semi-public) fucking, hold the moan vibes, slightest dom/sub moments, talk about having kids with each other, dirty talk with begging and some references to breeding / getting knocked up.
He’s busy signing autographs that morning, and it’s not an unusual sight for you to see him doing these trite little media appearances, but this time around - it’s a little different.
A chubby-cheeked baby has been placed on his table, and Sebastian is immediately taken with her, handing her a set of cards which she grabs onto readily. She giggles when he makes a silly face, and in her excitement, tosses around the set of photos of himself that he was supposed to sign. Seb laughs, and hands her another photo, only for her to throw that one away as well, but he grins and ruffles her hair with so much pride and happiness, as if she were doing something so incredibly astounding to him. Your heart squeezes in your chest, watching him play with this baby with such natural ease, you feel a strange longing for something you never even knew you wanted until this point. The last straw, simply, is when he completely abandons the signing of his photo cards altogether, and takes her in his arms to swing her around gently, making her shriek with laughter.
He looks so good already, but with a baby in his arms? You could barely breathe thinking about it.
Later, when he’s reminded that he’s running on a tight schedule, he reluctantly gets back in the seat with the baby in one hand, signing marker in the other. She ends up playing with his collar, and Seb nuzzles her a little while trying to make it through the rest of the photo cards as quickly as he can.
You come over to him just as he’s finished with the last few, and he looks up at you, his eyes all shiny and full of delight as he gestures at the baby who now smiles up at you. “Isn’t she so cute?”
You nod, unable to keep at bay your feelings of tenderness for him. “Looks like you were having a good time, Seb. I’ve never seen you so happy to do photo-card signings.”
“Well, I’ve never had such a good companion until now.” He finishes the last one with a flourish, and sets them aside. He offers to let you carry the baby, but you insist he keeps her in his arms, wanting to prolong the view a little longer of him cuddling her, fussing over her.
He’d be such a good father.
You eventually lean in to whisper to him, “I want one.”
“This one’s already taken, I’m afraid.” He grins, handing the beaming toddler back to her mother and waving goodbye. He reaches for your hand and walks with you towards his next media interview.
You squeeze his hand. “I want one of ours, then.”
His eyes flash with an excitement. “Yeah?”
You lean up to murmur into his ear. “Yeah. Want one, or a couple, maybe.” You pause, gauging his reaction, his smile. You let your voice drop a little lower, your whisper a little softer now so you can say, “Want you, actually, to fill me up so good. Over and over until you put a baby inside me, Seb.”
The swift intake of his breath is so, so sexy. He swallows, stopping at a discreet corner and pulls you in. His hand comes to curl around your waist as he tugs you in closer. “Yeah? You gonna let me fuck you bare?”
You nod, staring at his lips with such longing that he makes a rough noise. You’ve never done that before with him. “Want to feel all of you, Seb.”
You press your hips against him and grind slowly, until his mouth parts and his eyes get that unmistakably dazed look when his brain fogs over with lust. He looks around in a half-protective measure, wanting to see if anyone’s looking. You don’t care, leaning in to land a kiss on the slope of his neck that stretches out before you, and Seb makes a sound of surprise, fingers tightening on you. He likes this, you can tell, from how his pulse races under your mouth.
“Not here,” he groans, a hand unable to stop itself from reaching down to squeeze a handful of your ass. “So naughty, darling. People will see…”
You pull back with a look of determination he knows so well. “Then drag me somewhere now and fuck me… please?”
You watch the flush on his cheeks spread prettily, and you feel an answering throb between your legs. He looks so turned on and your mind’s only focused on having him inside you, now.
The paddock’s swarming with people, but somehow he finds an empty little room with a tiny sofa and the flimsiest lock you’d ever seen, but it’s right beside a media station and you have never been so aware of the fact that you’re doing something so dangerous - so impulsive. But all coherent thoughts instantly vanish when Seb is right there in front of you - looking distinctly impatient to have you.
He presses you against the cold metal of the room’s walls and has his fingers in your hair so he can kiss you with an urgency that’s thrilling. You moan when your hips grind against his, frantic, wanting, feeling him already hard for you and what you’re promising.
“So fucking impatient,” he half-complains, as your fingers stroke over the hard on straining at the front of his jeans. He rolls his hips back into your hand and your eyes dart up back to his, watching him melt into your touch. He doesn’t need to ask for permission when you’re this willing and desperate for him, and so, when he can’t stand your torture any more, he turns you over almost a shade roughly, dragging you over the arm rest of the couch, pressing his hand to the small of your back and bending you over so that he can have you prone for him. You whimper, feeling perfectly at ease in this submissive posture, perfect for being filled up and bred.
He hikes up your skirt, hands grabbing the curve of your ass which he can’t resist touching. “No underwear?” He makes a sound of delighted disbelief.
You turn back and wink at him. “We were running late - remember?” And the way his eyes heat up at the memory of this morning, where he’d been so distracted by you, gets you hot all over. “Besides,” you say as he unzips himself and takes out his cock, stroking it through your dripping cunt and slicking himself up with all of your wetness, “being near you, seeing you here in your element, being so good with kids, with everything you do…” Your breath hitches when the tip of his cock slides against your clit, “you always ruin any pair of panties I wear.”
He chuckles and leans down to put a hand over the back of your neck, stroking the slope of it with his thumb. “No. You deliberately did this to drive me crazy, didn’t you?”
“Me? Never.” You keep your tone light, but there’s anything but innocence in the way you push your hips back to feel more of his cock against you.
Seb exhales sharply and he squeezes your neck in warning, his cock resting obscenely along your folds. “You’re going to get us both in trouble like this.”
You hum, spreading your legs and shifting your hips so that there’s no mistaking what you want. “You like getting in trouble with me, don’t you? Love it when I push you to your limit.”
There’s a ghost of a smile on his face, but he doesn’t admit this. He leans over you, pushing just the tip of his dick inside you. “You know just how to make me crazy,” he says, kissing your shoulder, and you shiver against him. “Fuck. You feel so good like this.”
He’s right - it feels criminally good to have him bare like this for the first time - everything feels heightened, more sensitive, and you reach back to grab him, to let him know how good that is. He wraps his other arm around your midsection, a slow, deliberate pause before he says coyly, “you better hold on to something, sweetheart.”
Fuck. The sharp jolt of heat skitters down your spine as you wrap your fingers around the arm he’s put around you, squeezing to let him know he’s the one you’re going to want to hold on to, when it gets too much - too intense.
“Please fuck me,” you beg, shifting back impatiently until he grunts. “Seb… please fill me all the way up.”
He nips at your shoulder, “well… because you asked so nicely…”
He thrusts inside you in one smooth stroke, and you both gasp at the new sensation - so much, so good. You clench around him involuntarily, digging your fingers into his arm as he shivers slightly against you. “Oh my god, Seb.”
He grimaces in pained pleasure. “Don’t fucking move. I need a minute.”
The fact that you’ve got him barely able to control himself, that you’re going to be his undoing, sends a surge of heat so fierce, right between your legs. “Thirty seconds. Need to feel you move, please.”
He chuckles, in that agonised sort of way that betrays how much he wants to feel that, too. “This will be over in thirty seconds if you rush me.”
You make a frustrated little sound. “Don’t care… want you, please.”
A switch seems to flip inside him, and the hand at the back of your neck slides into the base of your scalp, threading fingers through your hair until he can drag you back, tugging at the strands until you gasp. “Such a fucking brat,” he murmurs in a low register you don’t hear often - but it’s fucking hot. “Always so whiny.”
Awareness prickles along your skin as he pulls almost all the way out of you, before thrusting back inside fast, hard, making you cry out. “Is that how you want it, hm?” His gruff voice holds a thin measure of patience. “Is this what you want me to do to you?”
“Yes,” you hiss out, feeling wholly consumed by him, by his domineering side taking over. “Seb, please - exactly like that.”
“Good.” He groans. “That’s how I’m going to fuck you. And that’s how I’m going to come inside you.”
He begins to fuck you with a punishing sort of rhythm - deep, hard, but it aches so good, having him so fierce and urgent and almost savage. You grip his arm so tight you’re sure he’s going to bruise, as the obscene sounds of your fucking fill the room. This, you think, will be your undoing. You cry out as he hits this sweet spot inside you that makes you seize up - buck against him, and he has to hush you. “People are going to hear,” he chides, but the tremble in his voice tells you he likes it like that - the danger, the risk. “Be quiet, love.”
But you can’t be quiet - not when he’s thrusting into you with a rhythm that seems designed to make you come way, way too quickly. “Seb,” you shudder, “fuck, you feel too good. I can’t… can’t be quiet.”
He smirks, his smug mouth kissing behind your ear. “I know, sweetheart. But you have to try to be a good girl for me.”
You nod shakily, biting down on your bottom lip. “Always.”
He releases your hair from his firm grip, slipping his fingers into his mouth to wet them as he reaches down to stroke teasing circles around your clit, and this time, you gasp out and squeeze your cunt around him, because it’s indecently good. You can hear people in the next room getting ready, murmuring small talk, and your stomach tightens with awareness.
“Imagine if they heard you getting fucked,” he murmurs, the words an incendiary force to get you even hotter than you thought possible. “Imagine them all knowing you were walking around, no panties, with my cum inside you. Dripping out of you.”
You buck into him, making this keening sound. “Fuck. I need it, Seb. I’m almost…”
Seb’s panting now, feeling you spiral against him, closer and closer to the edge, feeling your wetness coat his fingers. “You gonna come, huh?”
You can only make sounds now, having been reduced to barely incoherent moans, so you whimper, your whole body tensing up - an answer that’s so unmistakeable to him.
“Be quiet when you do,” he warns, and you shake your head, mouth parting already as the sensations he builds inside you grow too much - too overwhelming. He releases your torso just in time to press a hand over your mouth, muffling the scream that you make as you come so hard, against him, you almost push his cock out. It’s him that groans instead, swearing in a mix of German and English, thrusting erratically now that he can feel your cunt tightening, enveloping him like vise.
“Please,” you plead with him, the words coming out almost slurred from how dazed you feel, in the throes of your orgasm. “Seb, knock me up, please.”
And doesn’t that just do it for him.
His breath punches out as he comes, and he swears your name into the sweaty base of your neck, trembling. You can feel each throb, each spurt inside you - and it’s ridiculous how base and animalistic it feels to be satisfied like this - to feel so intimately connected by the way he comes inside you.
He doesn’t pull away immediately, but catches his breath by laving kisses along your sensitive neck, as you moan brokenly against him. His fingers are gentle now, coming up to tip your chin towards him so that he can kiss your mouth with a tenderness that steals your breath, every time.
You could spend all day kissing him, languishing in the afterglow, but you’re mindful that you’ve already stolen him away for way too long, and that soon they’re going to be looking for him.
Even though he protests, you have to be the responsible one, pushing him back from more kisses and dressing him up again, helping him look presentable for the media. His hair’s a lost cause, and the bruises on his arm will definitely look suspicious, but you do the best you can, and send him out with a final, lingering kiss.
Later, as you sit at the back of the interview room, behind rows of journalists and reporters, they ask him, once, about whether he’s ready to be a father, especially given that he was pictured so adorably with a baby earlier on.
A wide grin appears on his face, and he glances not so subtly at you, making you flush from the memory of your escapade with him earlier. “Well, I think… it really doesn’t take too long to make one, does it?”
The room erupts in scattered laughs. That’s your Seb, of course. Always ready with a silly quip.
The journalist probes, referencing his longstanding metaphor of racing for having a family. “So do you think you’re finally ready to come out of free practice?”
The twinkle in his eyes is so endearing to you, but even more touching are the words that come from him, directed straight at you. “Yeah. Definitely ready for that.”
—
I was wondering why I was so crazy these few days and I checked my period app - yep, turns out there’s a reason why my brain has been a non-stop filth factory. It is what it is. Anyone else get like this? I hate it. Don’t ever want kids, but the way this fic poured out of me so readily and quickly is a little concerning.
Please enjoy this unfiltered, very insane fic that i rushed to edit - and yes don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the charlos blindfold fic that was promised!
Hope you liked it! Would love to know what you thought <3
love, ivy
my masterlist
you wear white (and I’ll wear out the words I love you)
{sebastian vettel x fem!reader}
in which sebastian insists on following some wedding rules before you get married.
written for the kiss challenge - 🤍 milestone / wedding kiss; i also couldn’t let seb’s birthday pass without a fic!
warning: fem!receiving oral, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight hints of squirting.
He’s not supposed to see you in your wedding dress, so he wears a bandana over his eyes - one he repurposes from his racing days. It’s knotted securely at the back, sitting squarely atop his curls that have been somewhat tamed for the occasion. He knocks gently on the door, and peeks his head in, making you giggle.
“Seb,” you chide, “you’re not supposed to see me now. It’s bad luck.”
He points to his bandana, waving his hands haphazardly as if to illustrate his point. “I’m not seeing you, liebe. But I wanted to check in to see if you’re okay. That you’ve not run away. Again.”
You laugh, drawing him into the room by his sleeve. “When have I ever run away from you, Seb?”
He holds up fingers as he counts. “Well the first time I asked you to marry me, you turned the brightest shade of red and took off running in the opposite direction-”
You click your tongue at him lightly. “We were six. And you did it in front of the whole damn class - I wanted to die, Seb.”
He grins, as if cherishing the memory. “Oh but I knew then, didn’t I? Six year old me was gunning for us even then. Or… okay, what about that time you hid in my closet and refused to come out?”
You squeak, feeling the mortification creep back in. “Your parents weren’t supposed to be home! Christ. I swear they knew though. I had to climb out through the back window. Almost broke a leg because you thought it was a good idea to leave school early and make out in your bedroom.”
He chuckles, and comes closer now, his hands instinctively finding your waist. “Or what about last night, hm?” His voice dips low, and your skin tingles from the slight rasp you can hear in it. “Was trying to make you feel good, but all you did was squirm away each time.”
Your cheeks flush hot now. Last night had been a whirlwind. You’d been nervous - not nervous to marry him, of course - of that you were so certain. But there was just this profoundly unsettling feeling inside you, this whole stretch of a lifetime commitment that made you want to throw up. You’d second-guessed everything - whether you were too young to marry - too impulsive - whether it was you that Seb really truly wanted, or whether he’d eventually grow bored with you - whether love could really last an entire lifetime, rather than fizzle away like you’d always seen in every other relationship you’d ever known.
Seb had just held your hand and listened. He’d understood entirely. “I don’t care about getting married,” he’d said, with a levity that surprised you.
When you’d raised your eyebrows at him, he’d offered quietly, “it’s just a piece of paper, liebe. It doesn’t change what I feel for you, or how I want you in ways I can’t even explain. Do you understand?” He’d touched your face, brushing your cheek tenderly with his thumb - a gesture so loving that you couldn’t mistake the affection contained within him for you. “I couldn’t… you couldn’t ever be found lacking in my eyes, sweetheart. I love all of you. Every bit. New. Old. The ugly and the beautiful - every part. I love it all.”
It’d been the sweetest thing you’d ever heard, and it made you want to cry even more. Instead you’d kissed him and held his face in your palms, whispering how much you needed him, and wanted him, and he’d given in and growled, rolling on top of you and putting his hands along the delicate parts of you that ached for him.
He was adamant in getting you off, latching his mouth between your legs and keeping his hands on your hips. “So good for me, liebe,” he’d murmured, calling you his favourite term of endearment these days - love - between filthy swipes of his tongue, as you came with the combination of his fingers and mouth working you into a boneless mess. But he wasn’t done yet. He’d continued to suck at your clit, fingers searching inside for your gspot until you’d bucked up into his touch and he’d groaned, as if he were the one that was being catapulted into a second orgasm. You’d called out his name until it’d echoed off the walls, and he’d been pleased with that, pulling his face away. You stared, fascinated by the glistening wetness of his beard, the mischievous, pleased look on his face.
You’d pulled him up to you, wanting to be face to face, but he’d been unrelenting - content to stay between your legs to lick up all the mess you’d made. You’d been so sensitive already, so your thighs shook when his tongue pressed along your slick folds, eventually finding its way inside you again, his thumb circling over your swollen clit and you’d cried out and shifted away, certain that it was too much stimulation, that you couldn’t possibly come again, but he’d known you could take it, of course.
“You still got one more in you, liebe,” he’d said as he kissed your thigh, and brought his mouth back to your cunt, until you were sliding fingers into his hair, wrestling against the feel of how good his mouth was, writhing, begging him please. The third orgasm that hits feels almost blindingly good - you have to shove his face away so that you can recover from the onslaught. You’re rendered speechless, just endless shivers into the sheets and guttural, broken sounds.
He’d let you lay in a boneless heap in the bed, the sheets under you wet. Seb had stood up, adjusted himself in his pants, where he’d been hard, and it looked almost painful. “Seb,” you’d said, reaching for him, “take off your-”
He’d given you a lopsided smile. “Sorry, darling. Heard it’s bad luck to fuck before a wedding.”
You sputter with indignation. “But I… you…” your eyes drag all over the (surely uncomfortable) bulge in his pants. “Seb… I want to-”
He’d merely leaned over for a chaste kiss on your cheek and a wink. “You better rest, liebe. You’re getting married tomorrow, after all.”
The delicious memory of last night is still fresh in your mind, and your heart swells with so much fondness for your groom standing in front of you now, bandana over his eyes. “How are you feeling, sweetheart,” he asks, the worry evident beneath the trace of teasing in his voice.
“I’m fine,” you reassure him, unable to resist taking one of his hands in yours and squeezing it. “No cold feet, I promise.”
Seb’s smile lights up the whole room at your touch, and he looks so perfectly handsome in his suit that you can’t help it - you pull him close until your lips touch his. “I love you, Seb.”
He doesn’t hesitate to murmur it back to you, the words a searing promise of eternity. Seb’s lips are unexpectedly soft, and his surprised noise when you kiss him is everything. He melts into the kiss, his hands slipping from yours so he can hold your face to kiss you even deeper. More than any rings or vows - the kiss feels weighty, binding you to him without end, filling you with an assurance that you’re doing the right thing - that he’s always been the right one for you.
You could kiss him forever, if not for the ceremony awaiting the two of you. He makes a disappointed sound when you pull away, not willing to ruin your lipstick.
“Is that allowed?” He grins cheekily, as if there were a wedding rule book that he’d wanted to follow to the letter. “Is this kiss not bad luck as well?”
You laugh, unable to resist tearing off his bandana to look into his beautiful eyes for the first time all day. He blinks, mouth agape in mock horror, unable to resist letting his eyes trail all over the sight of you in your wedding dress. He wants to say something, but he’s struck dumb by how beautiful you look, and so you pull him back for another kiss - wedding rules and all superstitions be damned.
—
I’ve wanted to write a wedding!Seb fic for the longest time and it finally materialised here, and on his birthday too. Thank you @percervall for giving me a chance to write about Seb like this: exploring the anxieties of a lifelong commitment. and of course I couldn’t resist putting in some fem!receiving oral because what else do i write honestly.
In case you didn’t realise - yeah this is still your girl ivy, writing filth. I’ve just changed my @!
love, ives {previously kostasstsimikass} 💛
feel free to send me a request for more kisses! And if you wanna read more of my writing - here’s my masterlist!
SOMETHING DEVOURED !!! JENSON B. X FEM!READER (18+)
summary: oh it’s just— you know… jenson was a starved man after their date.
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), did not proofread this, made this thirty minutes ago, use of explicit language, pwp, pussy drunk!jenson (!!!), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, squirting + overstimulation, little praise kink, terms of endearment, blurb
note: y’all wrong asf for pushing me back into the jenson button rabbit hole 😭 now i’m here (s)creaming. enjoy xx
something sinful (smut) masterlist
a - n masterlist
o - z masterlist
to some, stripping the other person off while you remain dressed was considered unfair.
it was a good thing that jenson button wasn’t just “some” person. in fact, he couldn’t care enough whether he was dressed or if his shirt’s buttons were half done.
he couldn’t find himself to care about the state of his greying blonde hair. he couldn’t care less about the liquid that trickled down his stubbles.
not when he was on his stomach, lapping up on her throbbing cunt as he moaned incoherently. her hand grabbing onto the back of his head as if she was trying to pull away. he wasn’t about to have that.
she looked so good on their date, he could admit. but after she played footsies with him while she whispered the filthiest words in his ear about not wearing any knickers under her dress, he couldn’t stop himself from paying the check and pulling her out of the restaurant.
he just had to have her. he wanted to devour her. he wanted to taste her after they both played cat and mouse for months.
she merely welcomed his lust with open arms— or well, with open legs.
now here she was, crying with tears falling as she babbled about feeling too much.
too much orgasms had passed by and he still wouldn’t stop lapping up at her clit and tongue fucking her entrance. she felt overstimulated— all from his mouth.
“god you taste so good, darling,” he murmured as he continued eating her out, his cock stiff in his pants as his hips rutted against the mattress.
“jenson, ‘m gonna—“ she sobbed. “fuck~ ‘s too much!”
he hummed around her clit, vibration sending her mind to spiral as he praised her, “you’re doin’ so good f’me, baby. stay still.”
“m— hm, ah,” she cried out, her legs shaking and wanting to close around jenson’s head. yet she persisted, not wanting to suffocate the man as her heels dug against the mattress. “fuck! jenson, i’m cumming again—“
“yeah? you’re cumming again, baby?” he growled against her mound, his fingers sliding up and down against the lips of her cunt before he began fucking her with them.
he curled his fingers and massaged the sensitive spot inside her, his lips wrapped around her clit as he continued to massage it with his tongue.
“so good, so good,” she mumbled as her eyes rolled back, her body convulsing as she whined loudly. “jenson, ‘m cumming! fuck! hah~ fuck~”
“let go for me, baby,” the sounds of squelching filled the room as he began to finger fuck her faster, his head pulling away from her cunt as his eyes brightened at the sight of liquid shooting out of her. she just squirted again. for the third time.
he let out a deep chuckle as she eased off her orgasm, her body calming down as he finally pulled his fingers out of her.
liquid dripped down his fingers as he sucked them dry, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as his lust blown pupils peered down at her.
he kissed her hard, tongue tangling with hers as she moaned quietly. “d’ya taste yourself, sweetheart?” he smiled, “so good, no?”
“mhm,” she murmured. “so good.” she wasn’t referring to herself, but rather the euphoria that she felt from being devoured for three hours straight.
“don’t worry sweetheart,” he chuckled again before his hand slid down to unbuckle his pants, “gonna make sure you’re gonna cum in my cock too. i’m pretty sure you can handle it, my darling.”
You are on a very important dinner and you are sitting right in front of him, you take off one heel and start rubbing him (maybe angry him afterwards?) + Seb
okay this - I was gonna do RBR Seb but maybe AM Seb cause he’s got more patience and is more fun to fuck with it :)
Tonight was the big dinner with the sponsors. The last of the pre season events before the car launch. You were sat across from your husband, Sebastian, watching as he spoke to the man next to him - he was there on behalf of Oakley from what you gathered.
Your heels were squeezing your feet so you slipped a foot out of the shoe, the feeling of relief on your face. Your leg stretched out, heel of your foot resting on Seb’s chair, between his legs.
Seb glances over at you, smiling at you before turning back to the man. You started talking to the woman next to you, she was telling you about her children - what an exciting topic, you thought to yourself, hint the sarcasm.
Boredom was hitting, your foot shifts and presses against his dick. Seb shifts in his seat, his hand dropping under the table to wrap around your ankle as you moved your foot slowly.
You weren’t looking at him but you knew he was throwing glares at you - if looks could kill.
Your husband was a man of patience, you see it everyday.
He was level headed, he’s cooled down since his RedBull days but sometimes you missed it, missed the aggressive side of him, the side of Seb that would do anything and do whatever he wanted and put his everything in racing no matter what it took or who it hurt in the end.
You knew it was selfish of you to want that back but you loved that side of him - the excitement of watching him fight his way to P1 drove you up the wall, not the mention the mind blowing sex you’d have after he won or got pole position.
Seb’s hand squeezes your ankle, harshly pushing your foot away from him. Your brows furrow, biting back a smile as you look over at your husband.
He didn’t say much to you for the rest of the night, mingling amongst the sponsors while you were off saving Lance from a boring conversation.
The two of you were at the bar when Seb comes over. “Can I borrow her?” He asks Lance, already taking the glass from you and setting it on the counter.
“Sure,” Lance’s brows furrow as he lets Seb pulls you off.
You and Sebastian were outside, the man walking you over to the car. “You think that’s funny?” He asks, you were confused.
“What?” you look at your husband, pinned between him and the car.
“Your foot- you think it’s funny to get me hard in the middle of dinner?”
“No, but I was bored.” You smile sweetly at him. Seb’s patience running thin- maybe he'd finally break.
“Is that so?” He asks, turning you around so you were laying over the hood of the car. “Should I fuck you in the middle of the parking lot because I'm bored?” He asks you, your dress bunched over your hips.
“Sebastian!” you scold him, looking over your shoulder at the man undoing his belt.
“What ?” He asks, already lining himself up with you.
Before you could complain about anyone seeing you two, Seb pushes into you, your body flat against the hood of his Aston Martin.
“You like this hm?” He calls to you, a hand pressed to the middle of your back, “knowing anyone can walk out and see you like this?”
Charles jealous and possessive please! Smut 🔥
no mercy.
CL x fem!reader - 4k celebration ✨
in which lunch with friends turns into charles reminding you that you’re all his
first 4k request up! thank you so much for this, wrote this whole thing in like half an hour bc damn this took me back to my charlie roots. i hope u love this anon, and all my lovely readers - lemme know what you think
warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, swearing, slight breeding kink, use of “slut” (in the sexy way tho!), lando causing his usual chaos (feat. shit stirrer alex), dom!charles/sub!reader, minor hints of corruption kink, slapping like once, fluffy ending
1.4k words
interesting.
the word you’d choose to describe this lunch is interesting.
charles’ hand seems to grow tighter on your thigh with every passing minute, or, to be more precise, every time lando speaks.
“so am i, ahem, are we gonna be seeing you at any races soon?” lando teases, raising an eyebrow, gesturing to alex sat beside him to cover up his slip of the tongue.
“i’ll be there whenever charles wants me there. maybe i’ll even get to see you win a race.” you laugh. you’re enjoying the company, but the impromptu lunch with the other two drivers seems to be riling your boyfriend up to new heights.
you know the brit is teasing him, and alex is lapping up the drama, stirring the pot. you certainly don’t mind if it keeps charles’ hand wandering higher up your leg. you’re just being polite, lando knows that, charles definitely knows that, but his tight smile and clenched jaw paints a different picture.
“i think we need to get going.” charles pipes up suddenly, after what feels like an eternity of silence from the monegasque man, and he throws a few hundred euros down of the table. “see you in bahrain.” he glares at lando pointedly, and extends his hand to you.
you take it, grinning apologetically at lando and alex, who both wear the same shit-eating grins. they know exactly what they’ve done and they’re lapping up the visible irritation they’ve concocted in their friend.
charles opens your door when you reach his ferrari, silently closing it and walking around to the drivers side.
“not a word.” he grunts.
his hand slips into your panties as he starts the car, and your head tips back against the headrest.
-
he throws you onto the bed, no mercy, nothing forgiving behind his rage filled eyes. you wriggle up onto your elbows, watching the way his shirt sleeves are haphazardly rolled up, the way his hands rub together. your thighs clench. his jaw is ticking, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind, ideas brewing.
there’s no warning before pounces, shoving your floral dress up your thighs. he’s met with white lace, intricately textured, gone sheer with your arousal from the way he’d toyed with you in the car, and he sighs deeply, pained.
“this is what you wear out under this slutty fucking dress?” charles glares down at you, yanking at the fabric. the band snaps back against your belly and you gulp, hard. “nothing to say?” he tuts. “you didn’t seem to have a problem talking to my friends.”
“wore it for you, promise.” you whisper, eyes wide, pupils blown. charles scoffs.
“did you really? because it seems like you’ve forgotten who you fucking belong to.”
you don’t get a chance to reply because you’re stunned into silence when a tear sounds from between your thighs. you see a flash of white when he discards your underwear, throwing them to the floor. charles forces your legs apart, settling onto his belly as if he wants to examine you.
“still soaked.” he hums, impressed. “question is, cherie, for who?” he tilts his head condescendingly and your squirm.
as if to torture you, his nimble fingers trace your folds, spreading the wetness he’s created. you buck your hips at the pressure, it’s not nearly enough, and a low whine sounds from the back of your throat.
“all for you, baby.” you promise. “please, charlie.” you beg.
“is my precious girl getting desperate? hm?” he finds your clit, circling it with the pad of his calloused thumb. you nod profusely, and he’s obsessed with your compliance. “now you know how i felt watching him want you.” he spits.
charles plunges two fingers inside of you suddenly, and you cry out, grinding your hips to his rhythm. the stretch is so delicious that you barely register the burn, not that it matters with the way he’s slicked you up already.
“baby, ‘m all yours.” you’re getting desperate now, pleading with your eyes as much as you can between squeezing them shut every time your tummy tightens.
“i’m not so sure, think you need reminding still.” charles smirks, and his pace increases tenfold.
all you can hear is the wet slap of his fingers slamming into your pussy, his other hand teasing at your clit, just barely touching it. it riles you up endlessly, and your belly aches from how tight you’re clamping down around his hand.
“wanna cum.” you slur, dizzy from the shockwaves washing over you.
“ask nicely.” charles quips sternly, slapping your thigh. it sends a jolt through you and you can’t help it, spilling around his long digits.
you expect him to stop, to punish you for disobeying him, but he fucks you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s grinning when you manage to open your eyes.
“so that’s how you’re gonna be, hm? you wanna act like a slut, cherie? because believe me, i’ll treat you like one.” he speaks concisely, slowly, his voice low and threatening.
he points to your dress. “off. now.”
you scramble to peel it off, throwing it off of the bed, and your bra follows suit. you lay there bare, studying him. if you didn’t know him, love him, you’d think he’s his normal self, but you can see the way he’s digging his nails into his palm, can see the way his neck is flushed red. he unclenches his hands to undo his jeans, just enough so that his cock is on display, red and aggressively hard. you wonder how long he’s been like that.
charles kneels at the end of the bed, shifting until he’s hovering over you. the head of his cock nudges your clit, spreading the remnants of your orgasm over himself and your cunt, watching the way it flutters at the pressure. and then he’s sinking in, slow, deep. he’s heavy on top of you and you revel in the weight of him, his scent.
he grins when he bottoms out, letting out a low groan. he stills for a moment, looks at you, brushes a few strands of hair away from your pink flushed face.
“apologise.” charles coos, mockingly. your eyes well with tears, so much pressure swelling in your belly.
“charles.” you whimper, attempting to thread your fingers through his hair, but he catches your hand, sweeping up the other, and pins both of your wrists above your head.
“apologise.”
and you can’t help but ramble pathetically.
“i’m sorry, charlie, love you so much, ‘m so sorry.”
the feeling of his hips hitting yours is like water in the desert: luxurious, essential. the pace he sets is brutal, utterly fantastic, a stark contrast to anything he’s ever given to you before.
this entire experience is surreal, he usually dotes, whispers lovingly into your ear as he gently coaxes orgasms out of you. this could not be anymore different.
the power he exudes, fully clothed, rocking into your quivering, naked body turns you on endlessly, unlocking a part of yourself that you’d never let anyone else see before.
“you like it better like this, don’t you, cherie? when i fuck you hard like this?” you nod frantically. “pretending to be the sweetest little angel when really, you’re nothing but a dirty fucking girl, letting him gawk at you. bet you loved it, all that attention.” charles grunts.
you arch into him, the elastic band in your core growing that bit too tight.
“maybe i need to fuck a baby into you, make sure everyone knows you’re all mine.” he whispers.
that’s all it takes. you reach your high instantly, spurred on by the filth he spouts. the tight, hot hold you have on him makes him see stars, and then he’s cumming, too, spilling warm and white into you.
it’s quiet for a moment, the air still, the smell of sex settling over the space. you relax into the bed, and gently, he pulls out of you. he smiles softly, fingers grazing your sweat dampened face. he unbuttons his shirt as he walks to the en-suite, returning to you shirtless and with a warm, damp cloth.
you smile sleepily as he cleans you up, wiping away the mess he’s made between your legs - as best as he can, anyways - and then he strips off his jeans, and clambers into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms so that your back is flush to his chest.
“was that okay?” he asks quietly. you roll over in his arms, raising your head to peck his jaw.
“more than okay.”
“i didn’t take it too far?”
“baby, it was perfect.” you giggle.
“you know i’m not mad at you, right? but i swear, if lando ever looks at you like that again, he won’t be having kids.”
-
first 4k request happy dance 🕺🏻✨
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ride this cowboy
Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that's why, for the first time in forever, he threw carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.
Warnings: explicit language, smut, alcohol, angst, and so on, please check each chapter's warnings before reading.
Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Hamilton!reader (she/her)
Soundtrack: here
Series status: complete
A/n: I do not permit my work to be reposted on a different platform. This is my only account, if you see my work somewhere else, please let me know!
Psa. The pics from the social media chapter are not mine.
01. siblings or dating (smau)
02. cookies and free rides (smau)
03. breakfast dates and shared clothes (smau)
04. the first time they met (regular c.)
05. shoulder and sugar to lean on (regular c.)
06. paris fashion week and china gp (smau)
07. sharing playlists and history (regular c.)
08. sightseeing and race-week-dump (smau)
09. sharing is caring (regular c.)
10. privacy sign at the door (regular c.)
11. he's got a girlfriend (smau)
12. gathering the fam (smau)
13. spotted and discovered (smau)
14. the past comes to say hello (smau)
15. our love is a secret I'm trying to keep (regular c.)
16. closing doors (regular c.)
17. tulips, just like in Switzerland (smau)
18. red carnations and home (regular c.)
19. not alone tonight (smau)
20. closure, and packing (regular c.)
21. through their eyes (smau)
22. jealousy, jealousy (regular c.)
23. the most beautiful time of the year (smau)
24. king of my heart (regular c.)
creating a shared playlist
meeting Corinna and Gina
telling Lewis about Mick
Mick defending Yn from a mean journalist
slow mornings together
to build a home ✷
getting matching tattoos
💌 texts between mick and yn
oklahoma, memes, and pov
drivers room's nap, and tis the damn season
©thisismeracing do not copy, steal, or translate my work.