The Youngest Student

KSNFIDHE YES!!

ANOTHER BEING THAT WRITES FOR TOTO!!

lowkey I'm so horny for him tho. he's such a dilf and he knows it!

lowkey i want him to just pick me up and bounce me on his cock like sjdkfbdi 🤤🤤🥵🥵

and him pulling my hair to suck on my neck like asdfghjkl

and what makes it better is that I'm so smol compared to him! I go up to his shoulder! (also could reader be wearing pants or shorts? I'm just a simple tomboy who doesn't like skirts and dresses also if ur cool with it short hair would be preferable but it's alright if u don't)

sorry this had been sitting in my inbox for soooo long babe but literally, he's a dilf <3333 // hopefully this is okay! 

You were surprising your husband, his home race was this weekend and tensions are on a high. He didn’t know you were coming down but you had set everything up with his assistant, making sure he didn’t find out. 

She left a key for you with the hotel lobby so you could go up and put your stuff away, shower and get ready before coming to the track. Now you were walking through the hallways until you found his office.

Toto Wolff - Team Principal - the silver sign on the door reads. You knock on the door and wait for him to answer before stepping in. 

He doesn't look up until he hears the door shut, he can’t help the smile on his face when he sees who it is. “Darling, what are you doing here?” His arms open for you as you walk over and sit yourself on his lap. 

“It's your home race, of course I’m gonna be here.” You smile as you sit down, kissing him. 

“Good, I missed you.” 

“You saw me yesterday morning.” 

“I know, that's too long.” He mumbles, his lips on your neck and he pushes you hair away from your neck. “You look pretty,” he smiles, lifting you off his lap onto his desk, your feet resting between his legs. 

You wore a pair of black shorts and one of his button ups you found in the wardrobe in the hotel. 

“Thank you, we match.” You smile and he nods. “But I think yours would look better on the floor,” he hums, fingers already working on unbuttoning the shirt you had on. 

“Stop it,” you giggled, “anyone could walk in.” 

“Honey please, no one is going to walk in.” He kisses you, leaving the shirt unbuttoned before he tugs your shorts off, leaving you in your panties. 

Toto pulls you back onto his lap, working on moving his own pants down so you can ride him. Once he gets them down enough, he pulls you to line yourself up with him, letting you sink down onto him. 

“Fuck,” you breathe, your head dropped to his shoulder. 

His hand resting on your lower back as you slowly bounce on his lap. His hands find your hips, moving you to his own pace, a lot faster than you were moving but you could take it. 

“Taking it like a good girl,” he whispers in your ear, moving your hair behind your shoulder to kiss your neck. 

“Hm, like that.” You mumbles, biting down on his shoulder just a little. “Yeah?” He quips, pulling you down a little rougher, “like that?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, nodding. Your hand meets his face, kissing him roughly. 

hi bestie 🫶🏻 i read that your reqs are open for valentine's day and i'm so sorry that i keep talking about mick but the content is just. giving me life during finals phase i'm sorry🫠

but what do you think about reader preparing a special striptease for him for day that ends up with her riding his thigh? perhaps with prompt 35

sorry if this is too specific or not specific enough, it’s my first time properly requesting 🙈

- 🐣

all good babe! // prompt:  “you’re so filthy… all this for me? how cute.”

His first points was a huge accomplishment and you two have yet to properly celebrate his success. 

Mick’s mum and sister has joined you two for the race and you didn’t wanna take away from his time with them so you celebrated with them instead of you two alone. 

The next day he had a flight so you two didn’t really get time together until now, when you returned home. 

You decided you’d finally put that set you bought a while ago to good use; red with all the straps and bow, the full nine yards. Mick had no idea what you were up to, he was busy catching up on this new show his sister had told him about, the tv keeping him busy long enough that you were to get ready and walk down. 

Mick’s eyes move from the tv to you the moment he saw you. You walked down, sitting yourself on his lap and straddling him. He’s yet to see what you have on under the button up you pulled on. 

There was a bit of red lace peeking out seeing that you didn’t full button up the top but Mick was nothing if not patient. “You look nice,” he tells you, a hand on your waist as he smiles at you. 

“Thank you, baby.” You smiled back at him, his eyes fixed on your hands as you slowly unbuttoned the top. The fabric pooled behind you down, draped over his lap. 

“All this for me?” He admired the woman on his lap, his hand rubbing up your side. “All for you,” you leaned into him, kissing him as you hand rests on his jaw. 

Mick shifts you into his thigh, his hands moving you back and forth slowly. You can feel the panties and the denim on his jeans brush over your clit, your face buried in the crook of his neck. Your boyfriend whispered the filthiest things to you but his voice sweet like honey and you’re putty in his hands. 

You wanted nothing more than for Mick to fuck you but he was a bit too preoccupied with how pretty you looked to let you get undressed. He could feel how wet you were on his thigh and a glance down confirmed it. 

“You’re so filthy.. all this for me? How cute.” He mumbles, the words bringing a blush to your cheeks. 

F1 alignment chart 2 📈

do you have that pic of mark and jenson clasping hands but seb’s hand is just… in the middle??? bc i’ve been wracking tumblr trying to find it but i can’t!!!

Anon, I am so honored that you came and asked me 🙏 So I instinctively thought of Singapore 2011 because I remembered Seb standing btwn them, and I really hope this is what you're looking for BECAUSE I'VE NEVER SEEN THIS PIC BEFORE OHMYGODDDDD

I'm staring at this.....the size difference..........I appreciate you asking me this bcs I never even realized that this happened when I was watching this post-race

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.

Age Is A Number

Pairing: Fernando Alonso x Vettel!Reader

Rating: R

Warnings: Age gap (21 year difference), smut, oral (m receiving), face fucking, protective!Fernando, dominant!Fernando I’m sure there is more

Words: 2.9K

Requested: Yes/No

Request: @poisonlily444 Hi!! I was wondering if you could write a fic with Fernando cuz lately I’ve been obsessing over him sm And maybe she’s like toto’s daughter or lance’s sister or smth like that (you pick who she’s related to idrc) and they have been in a secret relationship cuz she’s like 20 but actually he’s very protective with her and stuff Maybe they attend a gala or smth and she goes as his date in a green dress and when asked Abt it Nando is like “yeah she’s really beautiful and hot and she’s also my gf of a year” and everyone loves them after P.S. maybe a bonus scene at the end where they get home in Monaco and it s just pure filth 🤭 i loved how you wrote the sergio one so please please please make nando really possessive and overprotective

A/N: you can see where I lost my focus on this, I hope you’ll all enjoy it and hopefully I can get used to writing without my meds, it here ya gooo ☺️🤭

"I'm sorry, what?"

You want to curl in on yourself as your brother stares at you. He wasn't expecting you to drop this bombshell on him. He didn't think that when you called and told him you were coming home, you'd say to him you had a boyfriend.

Or the fact that your boyfriend is 20 years your senior, older than him. Oh, and that your boyfriend is Fernando Alonso. You rub your eyes and prepare yourself for this conversation. Wanted the earth to swallow you, but this was something you both needed to talk about.

"I'm dating Fernando." You whisper, hanging your head. You've been hiding this relationship for about a year, almost 2 years soon. "As in Fernando Alonso?" Sebastian asks, still not fully understanding. "Yes, as in Fernando Alonso." You groan and spin on your stool, standing as you rub your face.

"No, you're not. Nope. Nuh huh." Sebastian laughs, pulling his hair as he tries to remain calm. "Seb-" "He's TWENTY-ONE YEARS YOUR SENIOR! Fuck, Y/n. He's 6 years older than me! What the hell are you thinking?" Sebastian yells, causing you to flinch as he never raises his voice at you.

"Sebastian......he's good to me." You whisper, not sure how to explain this to him. Fernando was fantastic to you. He didn't play with your feelings, confuse you, or anything like that. When you argue, he makes you both talk and understand one another.

"Y/n, he's known you since you were a kid!" He snaps, and you step back, not wanting to start fighting. "Seb, he only met me a handful of times when I was a kid. It's not like you and Mick." Which only has Sebastian laugh humorously, shaking his head at this whole situation.

"Go home, Y/n." "Sebastian." You sigh, reaching out for your brother, who only steps back. "Let me, let me think this over; go home before we both fight." You blink, trying to keep control of your tears, and gather your things, heading to your apartment.

You're not over-emotional, but you did when it came to your brother. He was someone you looked up to. Sebastian was your world; he made you who you are today. He was more of a parent to you than a brother, so having that conversation with him and how it went. Hurt. Stepping into your apartment, you throw your purse and kick off your shoes before standing in the middle of your living room and crying.

Crying to being hurt. Crying because Sebastian didn't support you. Crying because you didn't know what to feel. You were hurt, angry, sad, and confused. You cover your face, crying as you hear the familiar beeping of the code put in, and then the tinge of spice and mint wraps around you, signaling that Fernando is here. "Princess?" Fernando calls out for you, smiling like a goofball.

He smiles at the bouquet of flowers in his hand, a small gift to make you smile. Not hearing a reply, he steps father into the apartment but stops to take in the mess you left as you came in. "Princess?" He waits for a beat, hears the soft muffled sniffles, sits the flowers down, and moves quickly to your side.

"Y/n? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Where? Princess, look at me." He pulls your hands off your face and sighs, seeing your blotchy face. He steps back and looks you over, ensuring you aren't physically hurt. Seeing that you're okay, he reduces it to emotional or mental. "What's wrong? I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." His voice is soft. Hearing how soft and the anguish on his face makes you choke on a sob and fall into his arms.

"Okay. It's okay." He pulls you closer, his grip tight. It almost hurts. "He..he.." You gasp out, trying to get the words out, but they're just gasped. "Princess, take a deep breath." You shake your head no, unable to do it. "Yes, you can." Grabbing a hand, he puts it on his chest and takes a deep breath. "With me." He whispers as he does it again. You copy the movement and start to calm down.

If there was Fernando hated most, it was when he couldn't help you. Seeing you in this state was the worst. He couldn't just tell it to fuck off like he'd do to people. Fernando wanted to protect you from everything, but sometimes the things inside you are the one thing he can't protect you from, only watch and help calm you down.

Seeing you calm, he takes a deep breath and tries again. "Okay, what happened?" He asks and sees tears form again, but you take a deep breath and blink them away. "I told Sebastian." Hearing that, the first emotion is anger. The only reason you'd cry like this is because Sebastian is mad.

"He's mad about our age gap." Fernando sighs, rubs his face, and leads you to the kitchen to give you some water. "Of course, he's mad." You scuff and roll your eyes. "That's all you have to say?" Gulping down the water, he hands you. You can see him thinking because if he was in Sebastian's place, he'd react the same way.

At the same time, he knows that what he is doing with you isn't for fun or just to feel young again. He loves you. He wants to get married and have children together. He couldn't say that Sebastian, the fucker would punch without a second thought.

"No, princess. But I understand your brother's worries. He raised you. You're more his daughter than a sister." Fernando pushes off the counter, walks around, and grabs your face, tracing your jawline. "He's protective. Like me." You giggle, knowing just how protective Fernando can get with you. "All he sees right now is me fucking his sister. He doesn't see how much I love her, worship her, or constantly ruin other men for her." He whispers the last part, making you laugh and blush.

He was right. You'd dated a little, but they couldn't give you the type of relationship you craved. They were mainly boys than men, and damn was Fernando, all man. He knew what you needed even when you didn't ask; he was always there, showing how much he loved you.

"You didn't ruin other men for me." You retort, which has your boyfriend leaning back with a smirk. "Really? Maybe I should try harder." He teases, which has you nodding as he leans in to kiss you. He halts when he hears knocking at the door and groans, cussing softly in Spanish.

A smile pulls at your lips as your grumpy boyfriend walks down the hall to the door. Opening the door, he grumbles but stops seeing Sebastian. "Oh, hey." Sebastian just stares at Fernando and sighs, shaking his head. "Don't tell her I was here." Walking away, Fernando curses and yells he's going to get the mail, following after Sebastian. "Hey! Sebastian!" Fernando yells, jogging down the stairs. Grabbing his shoulder, he forces him to face him. "I don't like this." Fernando chokes on a laugh and shakes his head, letting go of his old friend.

"I'm serious about her. She's not some distraction. I want to marry her. I understand the age gap-" Sebastian scuffs at hearing all this and hangs his head. "She's 20. You've lived a life. She's barely lived hers." His voice lowers as people walk past them, paying them no mind. "Don't. She's not a fucking child Sebastian. Y/n is a woman I love and building a life with. So don't you dare diminish her because of age, 'cause she's far more mature than you right now?" Fernando stares down at your brother, refusing to let anyone, including your family, talk down on you.

"Give me time," Sebastian whispers, hating his feeling. "Talk all the fucking time you need. Don't ever, ever talk to her like that again." Turning on the ball of his foot, he stalks back upstairs and into your place.

"Any mail?" "What?" Fernando asks, hearing your question, confused by you asking him that. "Nando, you went to get the mail. Was there any?" He shakes his head and removes his leather jacket showing off that tight white t-shirt underneath. "Hey, do you want to go to this gala with me? It's in Monaco." You turn around, holding the flowers he got you in a vase, and he smiles, seeing the light back in your eyes.

"How come you want me to go?" You weren't going to say yes. It's just that Fernando hated how the media eyes you like candy. Of course, they didn't know the two of you are dating. He despised how they constantly tried to pair you with the other drivers. Wanted nothing more than to show you off as his.

Walking over, he grabs the vase and sits it down before grabbing your chin, keeping eye contact. "When I say this, I fucking mean it. You are mine. You aren't the rumored girlfriend of Charles, Mick, or any fucking else. You're mine. Mine to fuck, love, mark, and show off. If you think for one goddamn second, I'll continue another year of little boys panting after you. You're wrong. Yeah?" You swallow and nod slightly, rubbing your knees, hating how you react to his words. He always got you wet when he showed off possessiveness.

"Okay." You whisper, and soon Fernando smashes your lips together. It then softens as he pulls away. "Good. You have work that day, so we will meet there." You smile, already knowing which dress you are going to wear. He'll lose his goddamn mind.

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Oh, he would bend you over and fuck you hard and good when you both get home. He had no idea you even owned a dress like the one you were wearing. He had expected an elegant dress that covered your skin. Something you'd be comfortable in. Not this.

Stepping out of the car, you thank your driver, who you smile at. Even that simple smile has Fernando wanting to rip the guy's eyes out for even looking at you. For being the center of that smile, not him.

You fix your dress, eyes searching for Fernando before you find him staring at you. You are wearing this stunning emerald green, self-tie plunging halterneck fishtail dress. The bow was light and rested on the back of your shoulders while the strings fell to your mid-thigh giving your back some cover, but if you moved the tie, it'd reveal your whole back. The front has a plunging front that shows off your chest.

Fernando had only seen the back but lost it when you turned to show off the front. He's next to you in quick strides, snatching your hand out of the driver and pulling you close. "The moment we get home, that dress will be off, and you choking on my cock, yes?" Fernando whispers in your ear, having you nod dumbly as he kisses you sweetly and guides you to the entrance.

The moment you two stepped foot in the entrance, you were blinded by cameras and the deafening sound of the shutter of cameras. Fernando places a comforting arm around your waist and directs you through the sea of people. You stop seeing your brother and Hanna as they stare at you both. Hanna smiles brightly, while Sebastian seems skeptical of the two of you.

"Shit, I forgot he'd be here," Fernando whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss to the side of your head. Doing that has the cameras going wild and people screaming. "Y/n! Come take a photo with us!" Hanna yells, and with a slight nudge, you move into your brother's arms. "I'm going to do some interviews; take care of her." Fernando nods at you making Sebastian smile tightly. "I know how to take care of my sister." You sigh and smile, dragging your brother away.

"Fernando! Over here! Fernando!" A reporter yells, and their enthusiasm gets his attention and goes to them first. "Easy there." Fernando grabs the young reporter, who smiles brightly and about falls over when he approaches him. "Thanks! When did you start dating Y/n Vettel? Is there a problem with the age difference?" He rattles off and then blushes, unsure if he overstepped, but the driver laughs.

"She is my girlfriend of almost 2 years, and as of now, the age difference isn't a problem for her family." He jokes, making the others around them laugh. "She is a wonderful person!" The reporter gushes, and the stupid smile on Fernando's face gives him away. "Y/n is the love of my life. She's gorgeous, intelligent, just an energy in my life that I can't live without anymore. She's, just yeah." A blush covers Fernando's face before he laughs and waves goodbye going to find you.

Walking around, he finds you at your designed table, seeing that Hanna and Sebastian are also there, but Sebastian seems to be messing with your heel. "Something wrong, princess?" Fernando asks, making you look up with a smile and blush, having heard everything he said about you. "The strap to my heel broke. Seb is trying to fix it but failing." Sebastian grumbles and steps away. "Fine, you try fixing the damn thing." Sebastian goes back to his seat, and Fernando sits down. He gently lifts your ankle and places it on his lap.

His fingers trail patterns on your ankle, making you squirm but look away, trying to talk to Hanna, who giggles. She loves seeing you in this situation as she loves Fernando and knows he'd care for you. Sebastian just looks ready to die but refuses to admit the way Fernando treats you will reign supreme.

"Here you go, baby." Fernando fixes the strap as you thank him and lean forward, grabbing his jaw and pulling him close as you kiss him slowly. You do pull away to not freak your brother out. Pulling your heel away, you put slight pressure on Fernando's dick, making him jump slightly and eyes narrow at you.

"Careful." He mouths, but you just give a soft smile and carry on for the rest of the night. Until you leave, you tease each other, slightly flirting with other men, and Fernando gives you touches under the table to unsuspecting company.

"We're heading home. See you later?" Fernando asks Sebastian gathering your things and pulling you close, slightly tipsy from the alcohol. "Get her home safe," Sebastian orders kissing your side of the head, watching a lazy smile appear on your face. "I know how to protect her. Later Hanna." With a nod of his head, Sebastian watches you both leave.

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"Fuck!" You moan loudly. Fernando moves fast, slamming you into the wall. "Let me see you, Kitten, fuck, you're probably dripping for me." Fernando rasps, making you whimper and spread your legs. "Wore nothing underneath for you." You whine, hands tangling in those gorgeous locks of his.

"Kitten." He growls, hating that you are so exposed where anyone could see you, but he also dies a little when he was teasing you and could have easily slipped his fingers into you. "M sorry, Daddy. Fuck. You were so close to finding out my secret." Fernando smiles, stands back up, and lifts you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

"Y/n, kitten. You know the rules, baby. What are they?" He asks, undoing his belt, having your mouth water, having always enjoyed this punishment. "Only Daddy comes, not me." You whisper, which has Fernando nod his head to the floor and have you sliding off the bed and onto your knees. The sound of his pants being undone has your heart rate pick up before you take over helping him out of his pants. "Damn." Fernando groans, feeling your hand wrap around his base. With slow strokes, you assess him trying to figure out the best way to take it first, and you lean up and poke your tongue out. Fernando moans feeling your tongue tease him before your lips wrap around the head of his cock. Fingers curl into your hair and pull you forward, making you choke. You take a deep breath and calm yourself. You freeze when you feel Fernando touch your throat, looking down at you.

"Relax your throat." His fingers ghost your neck, and he feels the muscles relax before he positions himself and both hands anchor your head. "I'm going to fuck your throat, okay?" He asks, and you nod, tongue moving slightly before it settles on, tracing a vein on his underside.

"Good girl." He pulled out slowly before moving his hips, testing to make sure he wasn't hurting you in any way. When he feels how relaxed your throat is, he starts to pick up his pace, groaning at how you feel.

You swirl your tongue but also moan, sending small vibrations through him, moving his hips faster as the slight twitch in his balls lets him know he's close. "M gonna come, Kitten. Swallow if you want." He groans, which has you relaxing your throat more as he moans and stills in your throat. You have no problem swallowing as Fernando pulls away, seeing the slight string of spit, and smirks, leaning down and kissing you deeply.

"Now, your turn." You squeal loudly as Fernando lays you down on the bed.

Ooh looking through the men who don’t get enough requests !!! Maybe 31: “the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.” With seb Vettel? Any version of seb does it for me but I won’t lie rbr seb !!! gets a girl goin!!

I know you wanted rbr seb but aston seb my beloved <3 // prompt: “the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

He's back on podium and you couldn't be more proud of him. It reminds of you when he was at RedBull and fighting for wins, for championships.

Seb was in his driver's room, Britta was on her way out as you were on your way in. "He's got press in 30 minutes," she reminds you, knowing how the two of you are.

You wave her off, promising to make sure he'd show up on time. You shut the door, finding your husband on the couch in his driver's room.

Seb smiles, patting his leg for you to come over and have a seat. you walk over, sitting. "I'm so proud of you," you tell him, holding his jaw.

"Thank you baby," he smiles. You were loving on him, kissing along his face, down his jaw to his neck. Seb's not stupid, he knows where this was going; the same thing he got scolded for over and over again at red bull.

"I have media," he reminds you. "I know." you tell him, kissing on his jaw.

Seb shifts you on his lap, "well since you know, the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

"You say that as if that's an issue for me," you giggled, the man kissing you as you shift to his thigh. Straddling his thigh, your dress bunched over your hips. Seb's hands rest on your ass, squeezing it before giving it a smack.

You start rocking yourself on his thigh. Back and forth very slowly. Your nails scratch down his chest, faint red marks being left behind.

Seb groans, his head tossed back and he lifts his leg slightly. The sudden change caused you to slide forward, clit rubbing against the fabric of his race suit under you.

The sound that left your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

I want Fernando Alonso to **** ** **** * **** *** *** ******* *** **** ****** ******

hello fellow nando fucker. may i humbly request some nando mirror sex. because i know he loves looking at himself <3

hehe ofc u can!! as we know, this man's ego has its own gravitational field

afab gn reader ♥

first of all: mirror foreplay

he's got you between his legs at the end of the bed, the mirrored door of the wardrobe in front of you both

your legs are spread, tangled over the wide muscle of his thighs, and your back is nestled against his broad chest

nando reaching around you to cup your chin between finger and thumb, tipping it up so you make eye contact in the mirror

"want you to watch"

(the 'if you don't watch, i'll stop' is unspoken, but clear)

constant praise, whispered into your ears and against your skin as he covers your shoulders and neck in love bites and bruises

"you look so lovely, so perfect for me, such a pretty pussy, all wet and ready for me already, don't look away, want you to see how lovely you are"

one hand playing with your tits as the other slides towards your pussy, gliding the pads of his fingers thru the wetness gathering there

your eyes flutter shut as he slides two thick fingers inside you, the stretch already delicious, and he rumbles a reminder to you to keep them open

and oh, when you open them -- you already look debauched, red and purple littering your neck, your pussy pink and swollen as fernando fingerfucks you with obscene wet noises

he makes you keep eye contact with him as he adds a third finger and speeds up, bringing his other hand down to circle your clit

"cum for me, want you to watch yourself come, so pretty, so lovely..."

and after he fingers you through that orgasm, and you come back down to earth and stop trembling against him, he manhandles you onto your hands and knees

(even if your arms give out, and you end up kneeling down and presenting your ass to him. which he spanks a few times)

and he makes you watch, maybe tangling a hand in your hair or wrapping a hand around your throat to pull your head up, as he fucks you from behind 😇

youngest intern in the history of ppth's oncology. thats you.

"you're still here?" wilson calls out to the void seemingly. your head peaks out from the crowded shelves of the lab to give him a nod.

oh this is bad.

this is not what you need. you dont need you're hot boss to distract you when you're trying to conduct some tests he asked you to. especially not when you haven't slept in 2 days and have had copious amounts of coffee in your system making you jittery. you dont need him to increase your heart rate to the point where your capillaries explode. oh you're gonna fuck up somehow. you're tell him you like him. because lord knows you do. your boss. you have a silly schoolgirl crush on your pathetically gorgeous boss. the kind that makes you nauseous and unwell because he's just so, so pretty. and you'd end up telling him that you'd risk it all if he just gave you the chance.

but you like this job. you need this job. you can't let it go just because you've got a thing for older men with kind eyes whose soft lips spill praises like...

"you there?"

"mhm" you gulp. somehow your mouth is really fucking dry. good god, james wilson. good fucking god. you just want to rub your face on his chest like a cat. you need him to touch you. to pet you. to run his deft fingers refined from years of surgery and paperwork and everything else through your hair or something... what's wrong with you? there's a pit in your abdomen that needs him. you need him to praise you, like he always does. you need him to look at you, take you in, take advantage of you. just dear lord do something. not just stand there and express concern as your employer. just come closer, please, your mind whimpers to him.

"i really think you should rest. we've made considerable progress thanks to your good work and extra hours. you've really proved yourself."

but you don't want this to stop. he thinks you're good. useful. your boss, the intellectual, witty and beautiful man you work for, the best doctor you've met. the one who puts in the hours and effort to better himself in what he does... thinks you did a good job.

wilson does find you admirable. he likes your work ethic, your thirst to prove yourself. he likes your obsession, he compares it to house's sometimes. he like the way you talk, not much to him for some reason (maybe it's the "boss" thing or...) but everyone else in the oncology department. he likes that you're young and you hold him in high regard. you're always so attentive when he talks, so perceptive, so willing. among those things he commends, the ones he can tell his colleagues about, he also likes the tint in your skin when you stand under the dim lighting in the lab. some of it reflecting off your hair, slightly unkempt but beautiful. he likes you without the lab coat. he likes your keen eyes, your smile, your hands, your face, your tits, your...

he lets out a deep sigh. wilson likes you. admires you. maybe overstepping his place as your boss, as your mentor, as whatever that is you're making him in your head, the reflection of which he sees in your eyes sometimes. something desperate. aching. calling out his name, as if to say "come heal me".

and he knows what it is. it's the same look of admiration he gives you. the murky one. the slightly lustful one. he knows what you are. pretty young thing, final year med student, who'd rather flirt with house than chase or foreman. but he'd rather pretend he didnt. rather kid himself into thinking he doesn't care when chase of all people calls you young. that he doesn't feel guilty for wanting you to want him.

but maybe if he played into it long enough, played dumb long enough, made you feel like this is just how he is. just this sweet. if he made you believe that he had a reason to fold his cuffs to reveal his rather slutty forearms, loosen his tie on a late night, take off his coat complaining about the new jersey weather, gaze into your eyes at every occasion he got, all in pure innocence. this isnt flirting. this isn't an old man's desperation and desire permeating his professionalism.

no. this is okay. all he hopes for is that one day you'll give in. confess your love to him like cameron did to house. fight for him. shed a few tears. maybe then he could wipe then off your pretty cheeks and sigh. he could then reject you. just speak those words of "i'm sorry, it's inappropriate and your much younger than me" into existence. make them real, if only he could use all the rationality in the world to convince himself that he doesn't want you as despicably and carnally as he does.

he shuts his eyes and takes in a sharp breath. no. this isn't right. he'd be taking advantage of you. even if its what you want. even if it could be his little present to you.

"go home, doctor."

he leaves the door of the lab open on his way out.