In Another Universe, You Were A Good Dad; Someone I Could Be Proud Of

baby trapper wilson... oh i'm unwell, oh take me to the hospital

you're wilson's pretty young thing. you're the arm candy he carries around, the kind of girl that gets stared at wherever she goes. and he's him, he's the sweetest man ever, the most caring, gentle, kind man you've ever dated. you're young and naive and he's divorced thrice, that's not lost on him. or you. but you like it, you like that he's older. but for how much longer? how much longer will you let him subliminally make all your decisions? even when you think you want something, you scarcely realize that he's the one who put the idea there in the first place. you're so fucking naive, so fucking stupid, he thinks sometimes. and he loves it. you don't talk taxes or bills or medicine or divorces. he likes that. you talk about inconsequential things that you'll grow out of a month or two later. he's always afraid he's one of them. he's so afraid of you growing up or changing or anything because he knows deep down that he's alone at his big age and you've got the whole world wanting you, if only you stopped seeing him, if only you stepped outside to the world he's shielding you from.

it starts that way. it starts with that fear.

that's why he doesn't let you take birth control. he strictly advises against it, purely his medical opinion of course. he'll wear a condom, he doesn't want your hormones to be so imbalanced, that's dangerous. and god forbid your taste in men changes and suddenly you feel stupid for wanting this old man as much as you do. so you shouldn't take pills. and iuds are too scary. he pledges to always wear a rubber, for your sake and his. you don't doubt him once. why would you? james wilson, doctor james wilson, is the most responsible, sensible and well adjusted man you've met. you trust him, always, to be good to you and only want the best for you. so you agree, and he tells you that he loves you. because he does, the guilt is caught like rheum in the back of his throat.

you're all over him, giddy at his touch and so wet and pliable under him and he knows you're ovulating. even if he wasn't tracking your cycle, he saw you were in your best mood. so hungry for him, and he intended to give you exactly what you wanted. but to break the promise he made, the one he never intended to keep, he had to make you cum as many times as possible. till you became a weak puddle of desire and need. till you became incapable of responsibility. he devours you. his tongue and fingers work tirelessly to bring his plan into fruition. he's fucking you like he knows he'll be missing out on nine months of this. and you're begging him to be inside you, fill you up. it's till you're tugging at his hair and pleading inside, please james, inside... me till he thinks you're ready. or he is.

he kisses you, tasting of you, smelling like you. you taste like nothing, just yourself; clean, pure, just the way he likes you. his tip ghosts your entrance and you're quick to buck your hips to meet his. that is, until god knows who reminds you to be responsible. you gesture at the drawer next to the king sized bed. you don't trust yourself to be coherent. wilson sighs, it's the silent kind of sigh he does when he knows his patient is dying or house is going to do something stupid and reckless. for a moment there he really hoped it would've been that easy.

he began rubbing circles on your clit. you looked away teary eyes, overstimulated, overwhelmed. you pleaded, you begged. he shushed you, he shushed you like a crying child. he placed small, soft kisses on your body, almost as if he was afraid. he opened the drawer, took out a condom. he tore the wrapper and watched you exhale, relieved. you spread your legs instinctively at the sound.

wilson enters you, bare. and fast. so you don't dwell on the feeling of his tip for too long. his hands run along your sides to soothe you, as him. his head falls forward at the sensation of your tight, spasming cunt and he sees reason in doing this all over again. his forehead touches yours. it's all so tender, you think, all so sweet and beautiful like james himself. you open your eyes to look at him. his graying hair sticks to his forehead, glued by the sweat. there's a sheen around his mouth from where it once was. he has these fine wrinkles that seem more prominent in the low light. he has those rough, experienced hands that hold you in place, because you need to be held in place. you need to be pinned down where you belong because you're restless and young and hungry for more more more. you touched his hair, his cheeks, his face, his lips. all of it.

"i love you," you told him, your voice small.

and that fear dissipated into the steamy, sex-smelling air. it was his fucked up way of thinking you wanted this. his strokes were deep, hard and punctuated with grunts, just the way you liked. he took things slow, promising to make you feel every inch of him. you clenched around him in that painfully delicious way that made him cum in minutes. he muttered a string of profanities.

he looked down at your messy, glistening cunt and thought, this is what it will look like. this is the sight he'll see in a few seconds when he fills you up and lets it drip out of you. he lets his eyes rake over the rest of you, all changed and plump in due time. and then he'll have you, he'll have baby wilson and all the people in the hospital to brag to. he'll take you wherever he goes, conferences, talks, medical stuff you never had to attended before. he imagines being seen with you and your creation in the hotel lobbies. "doctor james wilson," he'll introduce "and my wife." he'll say with a loving, doting smile. it could all be so perfect and sappy and comforting.

his hand now pressed your thighs into a gruelling mating press. he had to go as deep as he could. he was close, he could feel it. his paced switched from slow caresses to hard smacks. your body pained in this new position for a while, but you liked it so very much. you arched your back, you moaned so loud the walls reverberated them back to you. god, he fucked so good when he wanted to. you wonder why he never pushed you this far before.

"i'm gonna cum. baby, i'm gonna cum." he left inside you unspoken.

you nodded, feeling yourself close for the hundredth time today. his cusses turned into i love you's. he threw his head back, his hot, white seed spurred inside you. comfortably. like that was where it belonged anyway. you came seconds later, on the verge of passing out. he stayed perfectly still inside you. he exhaled, almost like a sigh. he couldn't pull out of you, not until he's sure you're going to get pregnant.

your lips utter a silent thank you, almost like a prayer. wilson shakes his head, telling you there's no need. he kisses you on the cheek before finally pulling out. you fall asleep in seconds. so peaceful, so oblivious.

react (pt. II)

toto wolff x fem!reader

summary: toto takes his game one step further.

warnings: dirty talk, smut (sex toys, humiliation kink, mean!toto, daddy kink, squirting), inappropriate use of a bow tie [18+ MINORS D.N.I.]

notes: my need to get dicked down by this old man will never tire. check out part one if you haven't yet! (ignore the fact that i wrote pt. 1 in past tense, i hadn't yet learned that i'm much more comfy with present 🤪)

words: 2,689

❣️ dirty thangs under the cut ❣️

"I’d feel sorry for you if fucking your brains out wasn’t going to be the highlight of my evening.”

Toto's crude words echo in your brain as he half leads, half drags your overstimulated body down the hallway to the elevator, making you nearly trip over yourself. Your legs shake as your nerves are set on fire from the continuous vibration inside of you.

"Toto," your voice barely rises above a whisper out as he punches the call button. "Please, can you turn it off just until we get to the room?"

He takes a beat to look at your quaking body - your eye makeup is starting to bleed from your sudden onset of tears that arose when he had you pinned against the wall, and a red flush is covering your chest, blooming out from underneath the sodden material of your dress. He loves you like this, wide-eyed and on the brink of breaking down for him, and he's never wanted to fuck you more. But instead, he says:

"Now, why would I want to do that," he smiles wickedly, "When I'm having so much fun?"

The bright ding of the elevator arriving nearly makes you jump out of your skin, and Toto roughly pushes you inside ahead of him. Before the doors even close, he has a hand wrapped around your neck and is backing you up into the mirror - the same one in which he had lovingly admired you only a while ago.

The bare skin of your upper back makes contact with the cold glass and Toto roughly slits a leg in between yours. The sensation of his muscular thigh tensing beneath the wool of his tuxedo pants draws a gasp from you. Only the thin scraps of fabric of your gown and drenched panties separate the two of you, and you desperately begin to seek friction with his leg, grinding your hips down.

At the feeling of your pelvis rolling against him, he lets out a small laugh.

"Look at you, so desperate to cum that you're actually humping my leg."

You let out a soft whine as you begin to relieve some of the tension that's been boiling inside of you, threatening to spill over at any second. The rolls of your hips begin to quicken and Toto is fast to clamp his free hand onto your hip, fingers digging into the plump skin painfully hard, hard enough to stop your movements.

"Don't you dare cum, schatzi," he warns, eyes fiery and fingers tensing around the column of your neck. "If you cum, I'm not going to touch you for a month. When I told you I couldn't wait to get you underneath me I wasn't fucking around."

Another ding signals the stop of your floor. With that, he withdraws his leg, leaving you somehow even more strung out than when you entered the elevator. He doesn't wait for you as he walks down the hallway, and you practically have to peel yourself off the mirror to follow after him.

As soon as the door to the hotel room closes behind you, he removes his tuxedo jacket, throwing it haphazardly across the king-sized bed. You clock the frantic motion - you know Toto wants this just as bad as you do, even when he plays up the cold and uncaring side of his demeanor. Toto catches your eyes and looks at you expectantly as he undoes the cufflinks of his dress shirt and begins rolling the sleeves up to his elbow.

Your skin heats up at the sight of those muscular arms and you're reminded of how much power Toto truly holds over you, both mentally and physically.

"Why aren't your clothes off, schatz?" he asks pointedly. "Don't just stand there staring at me."

Wordlessly, you slip the straps of your dress off your shoulders, the soft material falling to the floor where it pools around your high heels. Shame fills you when you push your wet thong down and feel the cool air of the room hit your wetness and your hard nipples. You crouch down to hide your nakedness and start to unbuckle the straps of your heels when Toto snaps his fingers at you.

"Leave them on," he says sternly. "And don't try to cover yourself up, either."

Your face grows hot at the authority in his voice and you tentatively begin to stand up, limply dropping your arms at your sides.

"Knees." Toto commands, beginning to undo the knot of his bowtie.

"What?" you squeak out, confused.

"I said," he repeats tersely, sliding the tie off his neck and pointing at the space on the floor just beyond the foot of the bed. "Knees. I think toys make you a bit dumb, darling. Or maybe you had too much to drink back there?"

Your cheeks flush at his crude words but you follow his instructions, knees sinking into the soft carpeting of the room. You're still fighting the instinct to cover up when he walks behind you and roughly pulls your arms behind your back, crossing them at the wrist just above the curve of your ass.

"What are you doing?" you gasp softly.

"Since you're obviously having a hard time following instructions tonight," he taunts, slipping the satin material of the tie around your crossed wrists. "I think you need a little reminder of who's in charge here."

He punctuates his words with a harsh yank of the tie, and you realize he's tied your wrists together. He steps back around in front of you and when you look up you feel the ache between your thighs grow stronger.

All 6' 5" of him practically towers over you, and he's just so painfully handsome, with his sharp bone structure and brown hair that's verging on the edge of wild from absentmindedly raking his hands through it during dinner. When you first met him, you were intimidated by his appearance and commanding personality, not to mention the largeness of, well...everything about him. You didn't know then how quickly and easily he could oscillate between soft and mean, or how much you'd love the feeling of him breaking you down bit by bit. He brings a hand down to cup your chin, caressing your tear-stained cheek with his thumb.

"I probably didn't even need to tie you up, all I had to do is say 'hold your arms behind your back and don't fucking move,'" he smirks, now stroking the pad of his thumb over your quivering bottom lip. "And you're such a good girl, you just listen. You'd never disobey Daddy, do you schatzi?"

His thumb slips into your mouth then, leaving you only able to shake your head side to side in response. You curl your tongue over the digit, sucking your own tears off of it gently and looking up at him through your wet lashes.

Toto looks at you with an almost adoring look on his face and reaches his free hand down to stroke the crown of your head, his fingers pushing loose strands of fine hair away from your face. The tender moment is short-lived, though, and he suddenly pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a pop and is quick to replace it with his middle and ring fingers, shoving them roughly against your tongue.

You whine at the metallic taste of his wedding band and the hand lovingly stroking your head moves to roughly grip the hair at the base of your scalp, forcing you to crane your head up towards him. He uses the new angle to push his fingers deeper into your mouth and you gag around the thickness of them.

"Open that pretty mouth up, liebling, I know you can do better. You take Daddy's cock all the time, no?"

It doesn't take long to turn you into a drooling, needy mess, shifting your thighs together as you let out frustrated, muffled whines. Somewhere in the cloud of need and spit and his fingers in your mouth, you barely notice that he's finally turned off the vibrator. The dormant toy, while still creating a fullness, is nothing compared to what you want - the familiar feeling of his dick stuffed inside of you.

He makes quick work of his suit pants, unzipping them only enough to release his cock from the confines of his underwear. It springs up, the tip hitting the bottom of his toned stomach, and you feel your mouth reflexively begin to water when you see pre-cum collecting on it.

Toto fists his length with one hand, leading it to your waiting mouth. Your wet tongue welcomes his heaviness, drooling around his warm cock as he slides lower in your throat.

You can only moan around the thick warmth pressing down on your tongue, gagging as he thrust his hips forward and bottomed out at the back of your throat. His grip on your hair tightens as his pace picks up, the lewd, wet sound of him fucking your mouth filling the large room.

"That's it, baby, fuck, taking my cock so well."

His hungry brown eyes don't break from yours as he bobs your head in time with his hips, saliva leaking from the corners of your mouth, gagging each time he forces the back of your throat open wider to make room for his thick cock. He finally allows himself to moan and the sounds go straight to the tightness between your legs.

"You fucking love this," Toto chuckles, fluttering his eyes shut in pleasure, head tipping back. "You little slut - you're desperate to cum in the lobby where anyone could see you, but as soon as you get a cock in your mouth, you can't think about anything else."

He pulls you off him then, strands of drool still connecting his throbbing length to your red, slick lips. His voice is low and rough when he orders you to stand up. You stay down, trying to catch your breath as your chest rises and falls rapidly, the spit from your face starting to drip onto your chest.

"It wasn't a request, schatz."

He doesn't waste time picking you up by your waist and throwing you onto the bed, making you land uncomfortably on your back with your arms pinned beneath you. He quickly sheds the rest of his clothes before he's on his knees on the floor in front of you, his height still making him loom over you despite the difference with the bed.

"D-daddy" you whimper, struggling against the binds. "Please..."

"Please, what?" he teases, prying your thighs apart to wrap his arms around them, yanking you down the bed even further so your ass is almost hanging off the edge.

"Please...touch me - I'll be good, I promise. "

"I'd make you beg for more, liebling, but right now you look good enough to eat."

Toto's hand snakes up to touch your soaking folds, running a fingertip up and down them, stopping to circle your weeping hole where the base of the pink silicone is sticking out. He gently pulls on it and you let out a soft cry at the feeling of its fullness leaving your weak, overstimulated body. You're finally exposed to him with nowhere to hide.

"God, look at you. Soaking Daddy's fingers like a little slut. I could practically smell your pussy at that table. I wonder if anyone else could, hmm? You think Lewis could smell how wet you get for me, baby?"

"No, Daddy!" you whimper, your bottom lip wobbling.

Suddenly, he swings his hand forward to slap the wet mess between your legs. “I want you to cum for me.” He repeats the action, again and again, getting harsher with each spank. 

He alternates the rough slaps with dips of his fingers inside your tight core. The combination of the movements and the filthy wet sounds of his relentless attack on your cunt quickly push you over the edge, and spasms spread throughout your body. You feel senseless, the relief almost taking you out of your body.

"That's it, squirt for me," he growls, landing another sharp slap on your cunt. "You've already made such a fucking mess on my hands, cum and make some more."

Your vision goes white as your arousal floods out of you, wetting his thick fingers and spreading down to the veins of his muscular forearms. It's seeping into the sheets of the bed beneath you and you know you'll be the one to have to shamefully make the call down to housekeeping to get the bed changed.

You feel the bed dipping with his weight as the world comes flooding back to you. With the edge of your heightened state finally being taken off, your senses can take in more of him now - the smell of his expensive cologne, the softness of his skin, and the weight of his body on top of yours. You're still too weak to move, even when you feel him moving in between your legs, the heat of the head of his cock dragging up and down your soaking folds.

"Been thinking about fucking you all night, love," he murmurs, dipping his head down to fit into the crook of your neck.

You both groan in unison when he finally pushes the tip in. Toto bites your neck at the feeling of his length sinking in, disappearing into you inch by inch.

"You've been so good for Daddy, schatzi," Toto purrs, nipping at the skin of your neck as his hips begin moving. He's stretching you out so good, filling you up to the brim to the point where you can't even speak. "You don't have to do anything except take my cock and let me use your sweet cunt, okay? Just have to let it happen...take whatever I give you."

He fucks into you hard then, pulling your hips up to meet his pumps as a loud squelching and skin slapping fills the room. Your breasts bounce in time with his movements, rocking against the broad expanse of his chest. It's better than what you had been imagining all night as you sat and suffered at that table, in the hallway, in the elevator, and on your knees. You start to whine as you feel that familiar sensation begin to build again when his cock hits that perfect spot inside of you, and he pulls his face away from your neck to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

"Cum on my cock, baby" he murmurs against your lips, pounding into your pussy with unspoken ownership. "Be my good girl, be Daddy's good girl."

You cry into his mouth as you come undone, the walls of your cunt clenching around his thickness.

"That's right, baby, Jesus, you look so beautiful when you cum."

You can tell by the way his hips are stuttering that he won't last much longer, and you wrap your legs around his waist, hooking him in and forcing him deeper inside of you.

"Please cum inside of me, Daddy" you beg, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

He praises you and your cunt endlessly, the words spilling out of his mouth as his thrusts get sloppier and sloppier

"So fucking good, just for me, shit - so fucking tight-"

"Fuck!" he curses one last time before emptying himself inside of you, the pulsations of his cock making you ache in the best way possible. You can feel his spent leaking out of you and onto your inner thighs as he collapses on top of you, your spent breaths and moans mixing together.

His breath is warm on your neck as you both come down from your orgasms. Toto lifts his head when he finally catches his breath, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, looking down at you with a soft smile.

"Was I too mean?" he asks huskily, eyes searching your face for any sign that he had gone too far this time, overstepped a boundary.

"No," you sigh contentedly. "You were perfect. Now, can you please untie me?"

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.

Fernando fucking you in your childhood bedroom? Fernando wanting you to call him daddy the whole entire time? Fernando whispering in your ear that he wants to breed you? I- besties thoughts have been thunk and literally I cannot think of anything else. Head empty, only daddy fernando wanting to corrupt you. Thank y’all SO MUCH for this🥵

Daddy Fernando wont leave our thoughts either! Hope you enjoy some more thoughtssss:

He would so nice and respectful in front of everyone else, acting like the perfect gentleman to win everyone over, and he would. Your family would absolutely love him.

When no-ones looking, he'd run his hand a little lower down your back, making you look up at him as he stands there with an innocent smile on his face. At dinner, he'd casually put his hand on your thigh, making sure no one could see as he draws it up higher whilst talking with everyone normally. Fully expecting you to keep quiet like a good girl for him as he has his fun.

After you've said goodnight to everyone, he'd take some time to walk around your room, teasing you slightly for the things you have in it as you sit there desperately worked up from earlier. He knows though. He can see how much you want him and he takes his time.

He'd eventually come over to you, pushing you gently down onto the bed and telling you that if you're good and quiet for him he will fuck you properly, just like you need.

He would slip his hand down into your pyjamas, capturing your mouth with his to stifle your moans. He'd tell you how wet you are for him, laughing gently as he kisses you.

"What do you want?" He'd ask. He loves making you ask for it, to beg for him, to say it for him.

"Please, I need you to fuck me, I need you inside me." You breathe out.

"I think you're forgetting something, no?"

You'd realise what he wants straight away and you look up at his cocky little grin.

"Fernando." You'd whine, not quite sure what you're trying to say.

"No. Say it."

"They're right next door." You'd try and protest and he grins down at you.

"Whisper it then baby."

He'd tease you with his fingers, waiting for you to say it before he slips them inside you.

"Daddy please." You'd manage.

"Thats my good girl. Shhh. Be quiet and let daddy take care of you."

He'd take his time with you, doing everything he can to make you cry out for him and getting his kicks in knowing you can’t this time. Knowing you have to be quiet but can’t help the small noises coming out of you.

He'd whisper filth to you constantly, asking you who owns your pussy, who can fuck you like you need, whose cock do you crave. You can do nothing but cling to him and whisper 'You daddy.'

"Yeah, thats right baby. You're daddy's perfect little slut. Taking me so well. Keeping so quiet. Letting me breed your tight little pussy. Keeping all quiet for me so no one hears."

You moan a little too loud at his words as he thrusts deeply into you and he grins. "You're going to have to be quieter than that if you want my come inside you."

God do you want it. So you'd keep quiet, just whispering daddy over and over as he uses you.

After, when he pulls out he'd spread your legs to watch some of his come drip out of you onto your childhood bed, smiling at your cheeks colouring as it does.

He'd run his fingers over you, catching it and fucking it back inside you, pulling up your pyjamas and pressing your back into his chest as he holds you knowing you're dripping with his come inside of you.

~

Also have a little fantasy of Nando fingering you under a blanket whilst your friends are in the room that I'm debating writing up because apparently I would let this insane criminal old man do anything to me ~🐝

I think this might’ve been the perfect Nando ask, but feel free to prove me wrong ~🐻

pussy drunk charles eating you out continously for what seems like hours and it feels so!!! good!!! - this has been on my mind since forever now

Behave | C.L16

Summary: Just one of those nights where your boyfriend just can’t have enough of you.

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, biting, overstimulation

You winced in pain when you felt Charles’ teeth dig in your inner thigh. The bite mark is definitely going to stay for a week. You whined out when you saw Charles softly leaving wet kisses on your bruised skin. Your reaction just made him smirk at you. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful this looks?” he asked as he admired his work of art. “Well your art is always beautiful baby, so I know it looks good” Your compliment made him smile. “Always admiring my work, huh?” He asked, rubbing your thighs with his palm. You just nodded as a response.

His smile grew bigger as he nodded his head murmuring a little ‘good’ to himself. “Now tell me,” his hand that was roaming around your thighs is now right above your already stimulated clit. “How many times have you came?” He asked as you started to think. But, fact is. You couldn’t think much.

You’ve already came thrice. Legs being numb. Head bit blurry. Dumbfounded at his touch.

“Can’t remember?” He asked as he smirked devilishly at you which burned your skin. “No wait, let me think” you said as you started to think. “Aweh you can’t remember-” “Thrice,” you said, interrupting him. “I’ve-I’ve came thrice” Charles looked proud. Proud that he already made you cum thrice. His hand that was resting above your clit went lower. His fingers lingered around your pussy folds. You then grabbed his hand and started to whine as a defense. “Please Charles, baby, enough for tonight” you pleaded.

But he didn’t listen, he knows that you can take much more than this. His fingertips lightly touched your puffy clit which sent shivers all over your body. “Baby, I know pretty well that you can take it. Now behave or else”

You knew what that ‘or else’ was. It’s not like this situation is new to you. Or new to Charles. This has happened before. So many times. But each time, it was a different ‘or else’

Behave or else no more touches for the whole week.

Behave or else you won’t get this cock tonight.

Behave or else I’ll just have to teach you how.

Behave or else you’ll regret it later tonight.

Behave or else…

So obviously this situation wasn’t too new for you. But yet, you know that you have to behave. For him.

His fingertips started to rub your clit in a slow but hard pace. “My princess is going to behave, yeah?” he asked, knowing pretty well that you’re going to say yes. “Y-yes yes” you said as your body started to shake uncontrollably. “Good girl” he said, lightly kissing your thighs.

A/N: Charles always always ALWAYS radiates the best pussy drunk vibe! There’s no doubt there. Anyway requests are open as always. So feel free to ask me what you want me to write. I love you. ❤️

THE COWBOY HAT RULE

🖇️ in which you, respectively, ride the cowboy

🖇️ part two to the cowboy daniel fic! sorry to keep you waiting this long. hope you enjoy 🤍

🖇️ warnings smut, like literally 4k words of smut.

🖇️ daniel ricciardo x mercedes!race engineer!reader

🖇️ the smut part of my smut with plot fic. part one is here.

You’re not sure what prompts you to kiss Daniel first.

You’re in the taxi on the way to the hotel, his hand resting on your thigh and your eyes on his, and it’s a mere moment before you feel yourself leaning in and kissing him.

Daniel’s eyes go wide but he smirks against your lips, one of his hands coming up to hold onto your face and pull you in closer. The air’s thick and mixed with the warmth of his lips, you’re sure you’ll melt into a puddle beneath his fingertips.

It’s all a blur from this point on. All you remember is his lips moulding perfectly against yours, his hands on the small of your back and the sounds of his hotel room door locking.

Daniel’s hands move rhythmically on your body, softly tugging on your hair as you’re pressed up against the hotel room door. The lingering taste of liquor on his lips and tongue mixed with the taste of *him makes you weak. You feel your arms wrap around his neck and play with the curls at the base of his neck, causing him to smile against your lips.

Daniel pulls away, his hand firmly gripping your face and a look of lust in his eyes. There’s something so soft about the tight hold he has on your jaw, yet something so vicious lying between the shades of brown that are staring at you.

You feel yourself slipping deeper into your feelings for him when he softly pecks your lips, letting his hand slip down to your neck, continuing to hold it tightly enough for you to freeze under his touch. Your heartbeat quickens when he leans in closer to your ear. “All mine.”

Something about the possessive tone of his voice made you that much more weak.

Daniel pulls away to look at your face again, his grip on your neck tightening and causing you to tilt your head up to loosen it. “All fuckin’ mine.” He grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Say it.”

You open your mouth to speak, but the tightness of his hand on your neck makes your mouth run dry. Daniel notices it and lets go, instead holding your jaw. “I’m yours, Daniel. All yours.”

“That’s right, baby,” he pulls you back in for a kiss, his hands finding their place on your hips as he leads both of you to the bed. You straddle his lap with the intention of riding the cowboy like he intended you to, but Daniel’s in no rush to get your clothes off.

The warmth of his kisses spread out over your face and down your neck, sounds of pleasure already threatening to escape your lips. His tongue swirls over a patch of your skin on your collarbone before his teeth gently dig into your flesh. You gasp softly, but the pain gets soothed by his tongue smoothing over the bite.

“This is so wrong,” you say, under your breath. You don’t want to stop feeling his lips on your skin, and neither does he want to stop kissing you, but fact is that *this is wrong. And you have no intention of making it right.

The curly haired australian nods, bringing his lips back up to meet yours. “So wrong.” He agrees, practically speaking into your mouth with how hard he’s kissing you. He knows it’s wrong, to some extent, yet he can’t help but enjoy every second of this. He dreads the moment he has to pull away from you and go back to living life without feeling your lips on his own.

He places soft kisses on your shoulder, his fingers resting the zipper of your dress, waiting for permission to undo it, as if he hasn’t undone you entirely just by mere touch.

“Take it off,” you whisper, looking down at his honey eyes when he pulls away from marking what’s his. Daniel’s fingers softly undo your zipper, pushing the top of the dress off of your shoulders. It pools at your waist and you watch as Daniel’s eyes linger on your body— it looks like he’s trying to memorise every feature of you in just that one glance.

The love-tinted shade in his eyes turns back into lust when his teeth find your shoulder, softly nibbling and leaving his mark, all while your lips emit the quietest moans.

Daniel softly places you down on the bed, his lips trailing down your chest. You feel his hand snake around your back and he unclasps your bra using one hand, while the other’s slowly tugging the dress further down your body. The sound of the bra dropping to the floor distracts you just enough for Daniel to make you gasp again, when his tongue swirls around your right nipple before softly sucking on it.

He licks around it once more before letting his tongue run across your chest and to the other breast, repeating the same action as he did on your right.

You’ve been hesitant to let yourself be vocal. Mainly because you don’t want to give Daniel the satisfaction of knowing he’s doing something to you, that he’s pleasing you. So instead of giving in and moaning when he marks your skin with his teeth, you bite your bottom lip and hold back any sound.

Daniel’s lips trail down your belly, soft kisses lining his path to the place you need him most. He lifts your hips and tugs off the dress, throwing it to the floor. You feel his head dip back to your abdomen again, but he doesn’t move his kisses past the waistband of your panties.

He stays there, teasingly kissing your stomach and you feel the ache between your legs getting unbearable. “Daniel.”

“Hm?” He lifts his head, a look of mischief in his eyes. He’s teasing. You look at him, a little shy to ask for more, knowing that’s exactly what he wants. “What do you need, princess?” He kisses your stomach again, the softness in his voice making you throb.

“You know what I need,” you mumble, your fingers coming down to play with his hair.

Daniel pulls away again, still staying situated between your legs, but his brown eyes stare straight up at you. His breath is warm against your skin when he says, “I won’t do anything if you don’t tell me what you want, baby.”

You roll your eyes. He’s still as annoying as usual, but you’re so close to getting him where you need him, so you don’t give that up. “I want you… down there.”

“What was that?” Daniel laughs, pretending he couldn’t hear you. “You want me where?”

“Down there.”

Daniel’s fingers ghost over your clothed clit, making your hips chase the barely-there touch. He runs a finger down it again, letting it press against your clothed entrance. A smirk appears on his lips when he feels the damp spot on your panties.

“Down here?” He looks back up at you, clearly pleased with how wet he has you. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Mhm,” you hum when he traces your slit with his finger again. You look down at him, rolling your eyes at the smirk on his lips. “Please?”

“Please, what?”

You roll your eyes again. “You’re so annoying.” You mumble under your breath. Daniel wants you to beg for him, to use his name. He needs to know you want him to please you, not just the pleasure. And you know that he wants that. The only problem is you’ve never been keen on giving people what they want.

“C’mon, sweetheart.” He coos. “You know you want my lips on your pretty pussy.” He completely pulls away, his eyes burning holes into you with the intensity of his stare. The second his hands and face pull away from your body, you miss the comfort of it.

“Daniel, please.” You beg, adding a little more whine to your voice so he doesn’t make you beg more. “I need you.”

“Do you need me or do you just need the pleasure?” He asks, seeming to be obsessed with the idea that you need him and not just an orgasm. Daniel needs to know he’ll be more than just a quick fuck. He knows you don’t do quick fucks, or else it wouldn’t have taken him this long to have you like this, quivering under his touch everytime he teases you through your panties.

“I need you, Daniel.” You look at him with pleading eyes, tired of the teasing and longing for more than just his barely-there touch. “Please.”

Next thing you know, Daniel’s fingers are hooking around the waistline of your panties and pulling them off. Still painfully fucking slow, but at least he’s doing something other than teasing you. Your panties fall to the floor with barely a sound and Daniel’s lips are slowly kissing their way down your thigh.

You let out a soft moan when his teeth dig into the soft flesh on your femur, leaving another mark there, as if it was proof. As if anyone needed to know that Daniel was there. It’s not like there was anyone other than Daniel that’s touched you like this, anyway, so the marks were more so for you than for anyone else.

Like a keepsake.

Something so sacred and so precious that it mustn’t be shared with the world. Your little secret. It feels almost religious, the way his lips caress your thighs and how he bites you with the hunger of a starved man. Now, he got a taste of your lips and he can’t get enough.

Daniel tries his best not to eat you out immediately, but the urge grows stronger with every soft whimper and plea that leaves your lips as his teeth dig into your skin.

He’s taking so painfully long, the ache between your legs getting almost unbearable. Daniel’s lips kiss your inner thigh and finally, his head dips lower.

“So wet for me, love,” he says, under his breath as he’s taking in the beauty of you. He can’t get enough of you, the more he sees. You feel him spread you open, and so you spread your knees apart giving him more space.

One of his fingers slowly rubs your sensitive clit, already throbbing at the mere thought of him touching you. You feel a slender finger of his slowly tease your hole as his thumb sloppily rubs your clit. He’s still teasing, despite seeing how badly you’re squirming under his touch.

Just when you’re about to beg again, you feel his tongue make contact with your clit and your eyes flutter closed. His tongue flicks over your throbbing bud and you bite back a moan. You feel him smile against your core as he lathers his finger up in your wetness and slowly pushes it inside you. You can’t fight the moans anymore, his finger pumping in and out, and his tongue on your clit getting too much to handle.

The dizziness of an orgasm slowly floods your brain as he pleases you so harmoniously. His tongue moves in tune with his fingers and the vibration of his own moans adds that extra bit of pleasure you were chasing.

“I’m close,” you manage to whisper under your breath. Daniel’s tongue adds more pressure on your clit and his fingers curl inside you, and your hand slides down to grip onto something just so you don’t completely collapse into the mattress. Your fingers tug on his curls and Daniel groans into you.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he urges you, pulling away for a mere second yet the absence of his tongue made you crave it even more.

It takes just that one last petname for you to come undone on his fingers. You feel Daniel lapping you up, licking every last bit of you up before he pulls away and licks his fingers clean. His lips return to attacking your neck as he pulls off his cum-soaked boxers.

All it took was hearing those sweet, sweet sounds coming from your mouth and he was coming undone, too.

You’ve barely recovered from the orgasm when you feel Daniel reach over and grab a condom from the drawer of the hotel nightstand. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he tears the small packet open with his teeth, spitting the trash somewhere to the floor and next thing you know, he’s rolling the condom onto himself, and aligning his dick with your entrance.

“Dan-” you get cut off with the painfully slow thrust that stretches you out unlike anyone has ever before. You didn’t expect him to be so big. He bottoms you out so perfectly, it makes you hum in content.

“You like that?” Daniel looks down at you, the playful smile never leaving his lips. “You like me filling you up? Huh, pretty girl?” He says, in between kisses to your neck.

Daniel hasn’t moved yet, letting you adjust to the size of him. And also because he likes to just watch you— the anticipation on your face as you wait for him to move, that single teardrop in your right eye at the feeling of him stretching you out, the crimson red in your cheeks from what happened just minutes ago.

When you feel Daniel pull out, as slow as possible, you feel some sort of relief. It’s only when he starts pushing back in, that you lock eyes with him and shake your head. “Wait.”

Daniel nods his head at you, his eyes half-lidded and looking deep into yours. “You can take it, c’mon.” His deep, australian accent stirs up some sort of feeling in your belly.

You feel his fingers brush hair away from your forehead, Daniel thrusting in as slowly as he can. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you and make this displeasurable for you. But he knows he’s big and he knows exactly how to use it.

He pulls out again, his lips trailing soft kisses down your neck. The way you moan his name hasn’t left his head since the first time, and hearing the absence of it makes him want to be aggressive, fuck you til you can barely think, use you like you’re his toy. But you’re not. He wouldn’t let himself treat you like that, no matter how much he’d want to.

You feel more comfortable now with the size of him, yet he’s still so careful with you. You feel his fingers softly caress your cheek as his hand comes down from pushing hair away from your face, and he keeps kissing you in a way that feels almost like he’s worshipping you.

“That okay?” You feel his voice vibrate against your neck when he speeds up his thrusts just a little. “Tell me what you need, love, I’ll take care of you.”

The way he’s so gentle paired with his accent makes you squirm underneath him. “Faster, ah shit—“ You can’t even finish your thought when you feel him pulling out and thrusting into you faster than before. “Harder, I need… Need to feel you.”

“Is that so?” You feel his lips pull into a smirk against your skin. He’s marking you up again. You’re not sure how you’ll hide all the hickeys, and, frankly, you don’t think you want to. It’s hot how possessive he is of you, despite you not being his.

The amount of marks he’s left on your body is only half as much as he’s been dreaming of.

Daniel knew this moment would come sooner or later. So many sleepless nights, jerking off to the thought of your pretty little self wrapped around him, moaning his name. It almost feels like a dream, now that it’s become reality.

“Daniel,” you moan his name, your hand reaching down to play with your clit as you feel another orgasm approaching. “I’m…”

Daniel understands you without words, keeping up the same pace, but rolling his hips against yours as you chase your high. He feels himself twitch inside you, his own orgasm soon to follow.

The Australian doesn’t answer you, instead moaning out your name, followed by a few curse words, as his thrusts become sloppy. Your walls pulse around him and that tips him over the edge as you both come undone. “Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth, sloppily kissing you with the dizziness of his orgasm still lingering. “You did so good for me, baby.”

“Mhm,” all you can do is hum. Your eyes are closed and you’re so tired you could sleep, but Daniel’s not done with you. You feel him pulling out and discarding the condom, and you’re sure you’ll both go to sleep now. But you’re proven wrong when he flips you over and sits you down in his lap, him leaning back against the headboard.

“You think you can gimme another one?” He asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He smiles softly when you shake your head. “You can’t take it?”

You look at him and realise he’s referring to his cock. The angle at which you’ll be riding him will allow him to completely fill you up, and that thought turns you on. “I can.”

“Knew you could.” Daniel pulls you by the neck, so you lean down, and kisses you. Less hungry, less aggressive. You feel a soft touch on your hips, his hands gripping them ever so gently to guide you back onto his cock. You whimper into his mouth when he stretches you out again. “I know, baby.” Daniel mumbles against your lips.

You brace your hands where his shoulders join his neck, and you earn a low moan from Daniel’s lips. Daniel’s hands are still on your hips and you feel him slowly moving them, helping you adjust as his mouth catches all the quiet moans and whimpers.

He pulls your hips down as far as they go and it hurts you in the best way, your fingers curling around the base of his neck. The vibration of a moan travels underneath your fingers and escapes through his lips, and you feel the grip of his fingers tighten on your hips.

Both of you moan into each other’s mouths and your hips jolt forward at the feeling of Daniel biting your bottom lip. He grips your hips and keeps you still as he continues attacking you with his lips. “Don’t rush.”

You feel his grip lighten on your hips and he helps you slowly move them. So slowly there’s barely any movement, but you prefer it this way. Maybe next time, you’ll ask him to fuck your brains out.

Daniel groans again when your fingers grip his neck tighter. It’s only then you realise he likes to be choked and the smallest smirk grows on your lips. Daniel can’t help but subconsciously buck his hips, thrusting into you. “Fuck.”

He needs you as badly as you need him, and that alone could make you melt into a puddle.

You trail kisses down his stubble, feeling the outline of his jaw with your lips. On his neck, you reciprocate the same thing he’s done to you this whole night. You suck on his tan skin and bite down softly in his shoulder, the rumble of his deep growl turning you on.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He says between strained breaths, when your lips trace over the side of his neck. You place tiny kisses before softly sucking on it and hearing the exact noises you expected to hear. He groans, trying his best to hold it in, but he can’t resist.

The noises he makes, the rasp and the groans, all make you want him even more and your hips start moving subconsciously. You moan against his shoulder when he helps you grind your hips into his.

You keep up the same pace and continue marking his skin. Daniel’s melting under your lips, and you feel every little shiver of his body when your skin ghosts over the sensitive parts of his skin. Your hands have found their way to the back of his head, playing with the soft curls as your hips slowly speed up, granting you a smile from the Australian's lips and a shaky breath leaving his nose.

“This okay?” You ask, pulling back to look at the mess of a man under you. The curls at the front of his head are stuck to his forehead, his eyes half-lidded and lips parted in such an inviting way. This sight alone makes you wonder what took you so long to do this.

Daniel nods, his hands softly speeding your thrusts up. His breath hitches and he looks at you. “That’s perfect, baby.”

You smile softly, watching how Daniel’s lips part when your thumb softly caresses his bottom lip. You lean in and kiss him gently, feeling how the last bit of your night is slipping past your fingertips. But the way he’s reacting to you, and the way he so carefully fucked you, makes you think that this isn’t the last time you’ll be close like this.

The quickening pace causes you to whimper into his mouth, his hands grabbing your hips again when you don’t keep up the pace yourself. “C’mon, cowgirl. I know you can do it.”

Daniel watches as you bring your hand down to where you’re both joined, and it turns him on to see you pleasuring yourself while he’s inside you. You rub your clit, sloppily and tired, and the soft gasps and moans leaving your mouth cause Daniel to speed up the pace himself.

His hands are still guiding your hips, but now he’s fucking into you and both of you bask in the noises of skin-to-skin contact and your shaky moans. Your breath hitches when you try to speak through your high-pitched moans.

You feel the rush of your third orgasm flooding in, taking over any ability to communicate with the man underneath you. He can feel your walls closing on his cock, his own release coming sooner than he’d thought. You speed up your pace and arch your back when you ride him, feeling him hitting your cervix. It takes less than a few seconds before both of you reach your climax, Daniel’s fingers digging into your hips and your hands holding onto his neck, applying just enough pressure for him to enjoy it.

Daniel’s chest heaves when he pulls you down to lay on him. You’re inhaling his intoxicating scent as his fingers brush through your hair and he kisses your hairline. “We gotta clean you up, baby.”

“Mm, no.” You shake your head, wrapping an arm around his torso. “Tired.”

“You won’t need to do a thing.” Daniel kisses your forehead again and picks you up, carefully carrying you into the bathroom and sitting you down on the toilet as he starts up a bath for you. You watch the way his back stretches as he turns off the tap and the way he swirls his hand in the water to check the temperature. He turns back to you with the softest look in his eyes. He hooks his arms underneath your knees and arms, picking you back up and placing you in the tub.

“Fancy,” you say with a small smile, your fingers tapping the black marble on the wall. You feel the water quickly warming you up and relaxing you, and you lean back into the tub with a pleased sigh. Daniel starts helping you wash up and you look up at him, his eyes looking at you as softly as they did back at the club. “Why won’t you get in?”

“Do you want me to?” His smooth voice blooms butterflies in your belly. Daniel stands up and gets into the bath across from you when you softly nod. He pulls you to sit with your back leaning against his chest, and you sink into his embrace. He pulls your hair back from your face to get a clearer look at you. “Princess?”

You turn your head to look at him. “Hm?”

He softly cups your jaw and turns you to face him further, his lips softly brushing against yours. Daniel pulls away and looks at you, examining your face. “Let me wash your hair for you.”

The gentleness of the question made you think for a second that, maybe, you could do this more often. Maybe someday you could be more than this.

Daniel’s fingers softly worked the shampoo into your wet hair, his fingertips massaging your scalp in a way you’ve never felt. He smiles when you sigh in relief. “Feels good?”

“Very,” you mumble, completely unaware of how lovingly Daniel’s looking at you.

You feel him tracing a finger down your spine, softly caressing your back as he does so. He washes the soap away, careful not to get it in your eyes. The gentleness in his calloused hands was astonishing. You felt it back when he was gripping your hips, or when his hands just travelled your body. It amazed you how such rough hands could be so gentle.

Daniel helps you soap the rest of your body, his hands carefully travelling over your skin as if he’s afraid to hurt you. You help him do the same.

He’s the first to get out, his hair dripping onto the tile floors as he grabs a towel to put on the floor and another towel to dry you off. The Australian helps you dry your hair, careful as always. His arms hook around your legs and arms again, carrying you back to the bed.

You watch him as he bends down to his suitcase, grabbing two pairs of boxers and one shirt. He tugs the black boxers on and makes his way to you. Daniel helps you put the orange boxers on, smiling when you become shy the closer he gets.

“Sit up.” You do as told and Daniel puts the shirt on you. You look down to see that it’s a dark grey shirt with a faded rock band’s logo on it. Daniel meets your gaze and you both smile at each other, slightly awkward and maybe a little nervous.

Daniel lays down in his spot on the bed, leaving some space between you two. You turn to him and lay your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you. The steady rise and fall of his chest makes for a perfect lullaby as your eyes begin to close.

His voice cuts you off from falling asleep. “Do you still hate me?”

“Definitely.”

“Just as much?” His puppy dog eyes look down at you, waiting to see if you’re serious or not.

“Hm… Maybe,” you pinch your fingers, bringing your hand up to show him the space between your pointer finger and thumb, “a little less.”

Daniel laughs at your answer, before kissing your lips and pulling you closer into him. “Good to know.”

🖇️ taglist for this fic: @taina-eny @itsallrandomcontent @barnestatic @ilove-tswizzle @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @marianastudiesart @macintosh-44 @moonvr @formula1mount @brettlorenzi3 @oscarssgirl @akimh @imalishaa

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.

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I want him to fill me with so much of his DNA that it affects my 23andme result.

(he is fictional)

how lucky we are to live in a world where tiramisu exists

Wanna Join? - Callum Ilott & Mick Schumacher

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

Prompt B107– “wanna join?”

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

W/C: 2.3K

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

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

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