Throat Training Thoughts Tonight. ♡︎ Fictional Man Forcing His Fat Cock Down Your Throat Until Your

throat training thoughts tonight. ♡︎ fictional man forcing his fat cock down your throat until your little nose is in his pubes and he’s taking up every single one of your senses.

More Posts from Pleaseultraviolenceme and Others

in another universe, you chose me.

ex's and oh's - CL16

Ex's And Oh's - CL16

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo

THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 

You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.

There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.

“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”

“Already fucking other people, hm?”

As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 

“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.

Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 

“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 

He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 

“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.

“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.

“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?

He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.

So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”

He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.

His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.

“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.

The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.

For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 

“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?

The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 

The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.

“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 

The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.

“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 

The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.

You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.

You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 

And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”

The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 

His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 

“Porquoi?” Why?

“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.

You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 

His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 

You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.

“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 

It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.

"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."

“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 

You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.

“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?

You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.

“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”

His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.

“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.

The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.

You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.

His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.

“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 

Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

6 months ago
❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

day 04: christmas sweater — sebastian vettel x reader

❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃
❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃
❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

song rec: no one noticed - the marias

“hold me, console me.”

note: sorry if i skipped 3 days i had an exam. this one has a little bit of smut by the end

fluffcember masterlist | main masterlist

✧・゚: *✧・゚:*   *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

Sebastian rubbed his gloved hands together., shivering inside his jacket, as the two of you closed the door of his house.

“Damn, it was cold! But we had fun, right?” You smiled at him. Sebastian was your best friend. He got out of a toxic relationship just before Christmas and you really wanted to make him feel better.

“Right.” He returned the smile, but you could sense still a bit of sorrow behind his joyful tone. He took off his outside clothes and hanged them on the coat hook. He was wearing a white sweater, embroidered with little deers, trees and bells. It was the cutest sweater you’ve ever seen. “I’ll make some tea. Do you want some?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

You two sat on the bed, put some tv on and drank your tea. As you were silently watching a movie, you couldn’t help but cast looks on his afflicted expression. You really couldn’t see him like that, it was breaking your heart. “Seb, tell me what’s going on.”

He shifted his ocean blue eyes on you. “What do you mean?”

“You know you don’t need to fake with me.”

He sighed, lowering his gaze. You put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m really sorry for your break-up. It must be hard.”

He shook his head. “It’s not only that. She really was the worst and I don’t regret leaving her. I just…” He fidgeted with his empty cup of tea, a bit embarrassed for what he was about to say. “I just feel lonely sometimes. My friends are all back in Germany and my family too. You know I don’t see them that often.”

You nodded, and put a hand above his to stop his fidgeting. It was cold, as you’ve been playing outside in the snow. You stroked it slowly. “I understand. You don’t have to feel ashamed of that. You know I’ll always be here for you.”

Seb finally showed his genuine gummy smile that always made you melt. “Thank you, Y/N, it means a lot. The same goes for me.” He put his cup on the bedside table. “I wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind.”

You did the same with your cup. “At all.”

He hid his hands in the sleeves of the sweater. “Would you mind if I asked you to cuddle with me?”

The look in your eyes after the question must have been very shocked, because he started panicking, getting up suddenly. “You can say no, don’t feel forced, of course. I meant as friends, of course.”

“No, wait–“ You really didn’t know what to answer. Of course you wanted to cuddle with him, but what if he thought you were into him? Because you weren’t. You weren’t, right? Besides, friends cuddle all the time. You two used to do that when you were kids, why would it be any different now? “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

Seb’s worried expression relaxed again. He lay back on the bed, his head on the pillow, as you scooped closer. You let him wrap his arms around you. His hold was strong and gentle at the same time. You nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, your hands gripping the soft wool of his sweater. He smelled like wood and fresh snow.

Sebastian hummed. “You’re so warm. It was freezing outside.”

“I think I can help with that.” You slid your hands under his sweater, feeling his long back twitch slightly under your touch.

A little moan of satisfaction escaped him, a sound that would be engraved in your mind forever. “Thank you, Y/N. I wish I could stay like this forever.” He placed a kiss on your bare neck. It was tender, but you felt the wetness of it, as if he had licked his lips before. You had to hold back not to quiver.

“Me too.”

You stayed in that position for what felt like hours, exchanging caresses and little kisses. Well, obviously it wouldn’t be the last time.

i am the worst person to sit beside watching the brawn documentary because they’ll be talking about something very interesting and important and then the camera pans to baby seb for a split second and i have to shout SEB!!!!! and point at the tv

needy ☆ cl16

genre: humor, fluff, jealous/possessive!charles, smut, established relationship

word count: 2.3k

A certain dislike bubbles deep inside of the Monegasque when you attend your first race and continue praising his teammate.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, doggy position, m!receiving, blowjob, elevator sexxxx, choking

req!...aghhh i wish men existedddd

 Needy ☆ Cl16

You’re smiling wide, face flustered with genuine happiness as you beam up at the podium from afar. The lights, fireworks, music, and environment fill you with pure adrenaline, and suddenly, you get it. Why a lot of people enjoy the sport, you mean. It was an exciting thing to witness.

But from the garage, where your boyfriend is getting weighed after a tiring race, Charles glares at you and then at Carlos who he can’t quite see but can hear the applause for as they announce his name. He can see the way you clap, the way your eyes crinkle up at his teammate. 

It should’ve been him. 

“You were amazing, baby!” you cheer as you skip towards him, arms flying over his broad shoulders. He grimaces. I’m sweaty, he protests as he lightly nudges you away. “Oh.” You take a wary step back at his odd behavior that had never taken place before. “I- um…Carlos and Rebecca invited us out for dinner to celebrate. Do you want to go?”

He could tell you wanted to and he hates how much it bothered him. The way it tugged at his heart like a painful needle. “I’m sweaty,” he simply states again. 

“You can shower first, I’m sure they won’t mind if we’re a bit late-”

“Or you can go without me.”

You frown, shoulders drooping. “But I don’t want to go without you…”

He blinks. Just as he’s able to speak again, Carlos proudly makes his way over with a shiteating grin. “Charles! Great race, man, I’ve missed driving like that.” They share a fierce hug before the Monegasque sheepishly smiles.

“Yeah, I did too.” A beat. “We’ll probably be a bit late to your dinner.”

The Spaniard waves him off. “That’s alright, as long as you make it. I want to celebrate something like this with my team. Especially since this is our last season together.”

Charles can feel a wave of annoyance towards himself for envying the 29 year old. He did enjoy the race, he was extremely happy for his friend, but it didn’t quite click why it nicked him how you wore a bright smile. He nods, a lazy arm pulling you in towards him. Your brows pinch with confusion. “We’ll be there.”

-

“I’m glad I was able to make it,” you ponder as you reapply with a fresh coat of lipstick. Charles dries his brown locks with a white towel as he stands close by. Me too. You hum, eyes trained on your reflection. “It didn’t seem like it.” 

His stomach churns at your sad tone. “I swear I am. Why would you say that?”

A tint of red colors your cheeks as you purse your lips. “For starters, you wouldn’t even let me get close to you. You pushed me away, remember?” He winces at the reminder. 

“I d-didn’t want to cover you with my gross sweat,” he tries as you shake your head.

“Like that’s ever been an issue. You’ve played soccer and kissed me. You’ve had a round of basketball and hugged me after an hour of attempting to make a hoop. Or when you played golf under the blazing sun and kept me close no matter what.” You grab your purse as you make your way towards the door. “Don’t make up some stupid excuse, Charles.”

Guilt slithers all around the green eyed boy as he watches you converse with the Scottish model. He feels like an old grump around the most colorful flower, and he’s ruining it. He was determined to make it up to you. “I’m glad you were here to witness my first podium of the season considering it’s your first time attending a race. That way you remember me as your boyfriend's best teammate,” Carlos gloats as you laugh.

“Oh, for sure.”

Jealousy pangs Charles once again as you continue. “I don’t know how you did it…it was a close one. But definitely a great race, you live up to your last name,” you salute as he winks as a thank you. Rebecca agrees besides her boyfriend. “You got me though because - no offense - I thought Charles had it in the bag.”

You’re getting back at him now. He can hear it in your voice as his eye slightly twitches. The Spaniard chuckles. I thought so too. Placing a warm hand over the Monegasque, you swiftly kiss his stubble. “But you were great nonetheless, Cha. My favorite driver without a doubt. My number one…Ooops. Four.”

“Ah, shit,” Lando hisses from down the table as he nibbles on a piece of cake. 

Charles fumes. “Aren’t you the sweetest thing, amour? Thank you, thank you very much.” 

You giggle. “No problem.”

Coughing awkwardly, Carlos diverts the conversation from the sudden tension as a new topic comes up. You simply jump in with ease as the Monegasque keeps to himself.

He could’ve gotten a podium if it weren’t for his front brake locking. He could’ve been the one celebrating right now with all his friends. He was simply better.

“I’m really going to miss this,” a deep voice rips him away from his thoughts. Carlos sighs. “It’s a struggle, but I will miss it when I’m gone. Especially you,” he says as he points to his teammate. “A sore loser, but you gotta love him.”

Charles scoffs. “I am not a sore loser.”

“He’s right,” you muse. “But trust me, it's incurable. For God's sake, he pouted when I beat his time on the stimulator.”

Pierre gapes. “She beat you? As in her?” Kika laughs, pulling him back by his linen shirt. “That’s actually pretty impressive.”

The Monegasque blushes. “It happened one time. It was probably broken that day.”

“Ahh,” Daniel says as he clicks his tongue. “I totally see it.”

“Would you stop it?” Charles deadpans as the table laughs at his defensive behavior. “I’m honestly happy for Carlos. I am.” 

The Spaniard wiggles his dark brows in a teasing manner. “You hate me a little bit though, no?”

He squints his eyes before aiming a napkin at the brown haired driver. “In the very moment, yeah. Maybe a little.” Carlos raises his hands up before smiling. As the night grows older, the more you lean into your boyfriend's touch, eyes fluttering tiredly. “Wanna leave?”

“Not yet,” you murmur against his chest. “One more round of drinks.”

He snickers. “I think you’ve had enough. Here.” He hands you a glass of water. “Drink it all.” Rolling your eyes, you oblige before it actually sobers you up enough to call it a night. 

“Congrats again, Carlos!” you chirp as your boyfriend drags you away, swinging Charles’ hand like a glass of champagne. “Here’s to more podiums!”

“More podiums, my ass,” he growls as tugs you out. “You’re such a flirt.”

“Only with you,” you hum as you sloppily kiss his lips. “You look so pretty, Cha, you know? Your eyes, your lips, your hair.” You lean in closer to his ear, whispering. “Your cock.”

“Pretty?” he retorts, trying his best to hide his hard on. You giggle. You’re also so fucking hot when you get territorial. It’s sickening, but I love it. His breath hitches.

“Oh, that was fast,” you cutely muse when his car rolls in by the valet. “Ready?”

“Y-yeah.”

As soon as you step foot inside the wide room, you jump onto him, lips clinging onto his neck, hands rushing through his hair frantically. I’m sorry for all I said. I love you, you’re my favorite driver, my number one. You’re-

“Oh,” you sigh as he kneels down in front of you, kissing your legs all the way from bottom to top, worshiping you until his head is beneath your dress, nose brushing against your panties. You shudder. He nips as you leap up in surprise. His teeth wrap around the thin material before sliding down and looking up at you like a dog. 

“Go to the bed. On all fours. Your favorite number, isn’t that right?” 

It’s a lame joke, but it still strikes you with shock as you carefully make your way over, following his clear instruction. And you think he’s going to fuck you, the way you were waiting for, but instead unzips his jeans and takes his boxers off, and stands in front of you. Open. “I thought we were-”

“Well you thought wrong, now open,” he grunts, hands grabbing your chin as he forces your mouth wide. Following along, you stick your tongue out eagerly. Like a dog. You should be ashamed, but can’t find the strength when he slips down your throat. You gag as he groans. “That's it, baby. Work your jaw f’me.”

Deepthroating him, you hum around his length as you take him all. He growls when your teeth graze his skin for a second, harshly pushing you back. “And you’re still being mean to me?” He tsks. “What did I do to you today for you to ignore me?”

Your brows arch. “I wasn’t ignoring you. You were ignoring me.” Fixing your dress, you climb off the bed, but not before he grabs your hand, dark eyes staring back at you. Where are you going? “Far away from you.” He fixes himself before marching after you. Just as the elevator is about to close, he manages to slip in. “I’m not talking to you,” you promise, arms crossed.

“Great.” The elevator comes to a halt. “Because this doesn’t require talking.”

Pushing you against the glass, he kisses you hungrily, greedy hands squeezing your ass as you squeal, attempting to push him off. This only makes him take a step back, rubbing his jaw. Seriously? You debate with yourself for a while before biting down on your lip and pulling him back towards you. 

There’s no sound other than moans and groans as he fucks your against the elevator. The angle causes his tip to hit your g-spot at a mindblowing pace as your head rolls back with pleasure. He’s the first to break the silence as he places a hand next to your head and the other secure around your waist as he pounds into you, loopy eyes admiring the way your breasts bounce. 

“I want you to know that despite my attitude, I’m happy for him, I am.” You don’t need to ask to know who he’s referring to as you hastily nod. I know, Charles. Leaning down to kiss him, you pout when he turns his head, leaving you to peck his jawline. “But you’re mine, all mine.” He sucks on your breasts that spill out in front of him as you whimper. “Repeat it back to me.”

“I’m all y-yours, you doofus,” you grin, tangled hair flying into your mouth as you squirm. “I didn’t even think I’d have to say it.” Squealing in shock, you hurry to grab the metal bar as he places you down and spins you around, leaving you mushed up against the tinted glass. “Oh shit.”

“Pretty view, no?” he quietly questions behind you, lustful eyes laser focused on the way you take him like no other. He grunts, head rolling back, messy hair following along. There’s no room to worry about the possibility that there could be a camera in the tiny space, or that help may be on the way despite the red button being pushed on purpose. And then he wraps his large hand around your throat and your breath hitches, tiny hole enveloping around him even harder. “S-so good, chérie.” He kisses you shoulder sloppily, mouth hanging a tad bit open as he tries to push back his fierce sense to come inside of you. 

I think it’s stuck, a familiar voice clarifies from outside. 

It is, you dimwit, another retorts as a group of mumbles follow with agreement. 

“Oh shit,” Charles whispers as he rapidly pulls out of you, fixing you dress and hair to the best of his ability before focusing on his equally fucked out appearance. A soft wail escapes your lips at the sensitivity that remains in between your legs as Charles apologetically pecks your temple and the door finally slides open.

“Charles?” Pierre squeaks as soon as he spots his friend. “Holy shit, are you guys okay?”

“Completely fine!”

“It was so scary,” you add, shivering with theatrical fear to emphasize your words. “Thank God they were able to help us,” you say as you signal to the hotel staff members who stand by with a skeptical smile. “I don’t know what we would have done.”

“I have a theory,” Lando whispers to Carlos as they snicker, taking in your sweaty state. The way your zipper isn’t all the way up, showing off a bit of humid skin. The way the Mongasque keeps his hands adamantly in front of his hard on. It’d be stupid not to know what had been taking place prior seconds.

“Well thank God you guys are okay,” Pierre breathes, already making his way to hug you and the 26 year old. Kika grimaces while you two cringe at the fact that the Frenchman was getting a good look and feel of the forbidden afterglow. Patting his shoulder away awkwardly, Charles hums enthusiastically.

“It’s been quite an eventful day... Charles?”

Dark brows fly up before nodding hastily. “Yeah! We should go to sleep…Take care guys! Au revoir!” 

Pierre smiles happily as he watches you two scurry away, Charles almost tripping as you grab onto his shoulder to level him up. “That’s actually really scary, I think I would cry if I were in their situation,” he admits, wide eyes blinking towards his friend group.

“Oh, honey,” Kika sighs, leaning up to pat her boyfriend's chest with empathy for his naiveness. What? Wouldn’t you? 

Lando can’t help but let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands with amusement. 

“Open up your eyes, Pierre. Those two totally fucked.”

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do this quiz that took me wayyy too long to do

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2000s to present day bc who knows what was going down in 1954. shoutout to niki lauda and james hunt tho #homosexuals.

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 ☺️🤭

Age Is A Number

"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.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"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.

4 months ago

hi uhhh house being a more oral/handsy top bc he doesn’t have to strain his leg or get his old man dick hard. so he'll call you into his office just to plop you in his lap and grope you. pinch you. scratch you. bite you. lick and suck gross tacky hickeys into your neck while he fingers you. and you KNOW he’s a yapper. and he’s mean.

“oh, please, i’m barely touching you. and i KNOW you’re not a virgin. so you’re either just moaning for attention or you’ve never had a half-decent orgasm in your life. which is it?”

“ugh, look how wet you are. got your whore juices dripping down my wrist. you’re fucking pathetic, you know that? you came over as soon as i called you. just couldn’t resist opening your legs for a man twice your age, huh? is that your daddy’s fault?”

“you know what’s fun? if i wanted to, i could just page my team and make them watch you. i could call them in, tell them it’s a really urgent update about a patient, and instead just show them this dumb little whore i have cumming all over my lap. ah-HA! i felt you clench at that, you slut. want me to do it? seems like your cunt wants me to.”

(he slaps you on your clit) “get on the desk and spread ‘em, bitch. i’m hungry.”

Hi Uhhh House Being A More Oral/handsy Top Bc He Doesn’t Have To Strain His Leg Or Get His Old Man

lowkey I wanna sit on young mikas face. just smother that pretty face with my pussy

anon ur so right. why do you, as a man, have an INSANE JAWLINE if not to give me a nice seat!!

Lowkey I Wanna Sit On Young Mikas Face. Just Smother That Pretty Face With My Pussy

he loves it. he loves eating you out anyway, but having you sit on his face is on a whole other level for mika

wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you down onto his mouth, moaning against your pussy when you tangle your hands in his hair

the noises are obscene

your stifled whines, a gentle, constant repetition of "mika, mika mika--" as you roll your hips against his face

the wet, desperate noises from mika pressing his tongue against you, dragging it through your cunt like he can't get enough of the taste of you

the one downside of the position is that he can't finger you like he normally would going down on you - can't fuck you with three fingers while he suckles your clit until you squeal and squirt over his hand

but that's okay (-: he's more than happy pulling you to an orgasm or two with his mouth alone, grabbing handfuls of your ass to knead and spank

sucking on your clit and lavishing the little bundle of nerves with tight circles of his tongue, bringing you closer and closer to the edge

the tipping point is when he pulls away, just enough for his "look at me" to be audible

and he doesn't break eye contact with you once you look down, his baby blue eyes turned dark with lust-blown pupils, the absolute need in his gaze pushing you over the edge as you cum

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