Give You My Wild

kinktober <3

phone sex

Oscar x reader

warning: masturbation, swearing

You had just walked in your shared apartment when your phone rang. You saw Oscars name pop up and you thought, how odd. It’s practically midnight in Qatar while it’s mid afternoon where you were. 

“Osc? Is everything alright?” You asked as you set your things down and tried to focus on the conversation. It was quiet for a minute, then you could hear Oscar breathing heavily. “H-hey yeah, I’m alright just..frustrated from the results today.”

You smiled as you heard his accent in certain words he said. “I know baby, I’m so sorry they did that to you. Mid interview too? Brutal. How are you though?” 

Oscar barely heard your question, to busy stroking his cock softly, whining queitly. “Ozzy? You don’t sound very good, are you okay?” He lifted up his shirt so he could see his torso and pants down to his knees, like you would. “Yeah love I’m alright just uhm, keep talking. I missed your voice.” 

You made a confused face behind the phone. Oscar isn’t usually a feelings kind of person, he showed affection quietly, always level headed, and rarely did he ever call you just to hear you talk. “Uhm yeah okay sure..” You launched into everything you did, the mall, the grocery store. All the things you got for him today, every small detail mattered.

Meanwhile, Oscar was trying to hold in every sound that wanted to escape. His big hand moved up and down slowly amongst his shaft, his thumb coming around to gently circle the head. His hips stuttered as he thought about your hands instead of his. How you’d praise him, tell him how good he looked, or how hard she made him. You’d also already have your mouth on him, licking a long stripe up his cock, sucking on the head, using your hands-

“Osc? You almost finished, or should I keep going?” 

He paused his hand, “W-what? I uhm what do you mean?” You giggled and he swore he almost came just from that. 

“Baby, you aren’t exactly subtle. I can hear your hand stroking yourself, and you aren’t doing much to conceal those adorable whimpers. Go ahead, keep going.”

He moaned and moved his hand a little faster. He could only hear some shuffling on the other end, “Y/N?” 

“Yeah baby? Sorry, I was just getting out of my clothes, can’t just let you have fun can I?”

“No right, absolutely, whatever you want love.” He couldn’t help but close his eyes and imagine you alone in bed, naked, fingers running over your body. “Tell me what to do Ozzy, guide me through it.” oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. You could not be saying things like that to him right now, in that low whisper and whiny voice that gets him going. 

“Run your hands down your chest, give those gorgeous tits a squeeze ah fuck-rub your nipple for me baby.” He listened closely to the small sounds you made, knowing exactly what you were doing by the pitch change of your moans. “That’s it, atta girl. Now take your hand and touch your pussy-just a finger, feel how wet you are. God I bet your soaking huh sweetheart?” He needed to slow down, take a deep breath so he doesn’t blow his lid. 

“Yeah Osc, fucking wet. Soaking my fingers-just for you, only you” His heart almost stopped. 

The way you spoke, the moans, the whines, he missed it all. He could almost smell you, feel you around his fingers, even a continent away. 

“Yeah? Couldn’t take it anymore huh love? Just needed a reason to touch yourself. Fuck I wish I was there, I miss your pussy, the smell the taste, everything.” He could hear you fucking yourself. He could hear your fingers plunging in and out of you. He could hear your hips moving along the bed, the neediness of it all. “Ozzy, baby, please come with me oh god please.” 

“Y-yeah, I’m here, I’m right there with you.” he squeezed himself tighter as he stroked himself a little faster. Listening to your moans and gasps of his name, he came. Not a second later he heard you still, and your hips drop back down to the bed. 

No one said anything for awhile, just heavy panting as you both came down. 

Just as he started to drift off, “Oscar?”

“Mmm yeah?”

You giggled and pulled the blankets over your naked body, “I love you but next time just tell me you need to get off.” 

He smiled, “yeah alright, seems fair.”

INDYCAR DRIVERS AS ROMANCE BOOK TROPES

summary: I give romance tropes to my favourite funky indycar men. if y’all actually want to see me do any of these, please tell me in the comments 🫣

dedicated to my bestie @magnummagnussen who helped ghostwrite and give her ideas on a few of the tropes! (sorry for not including sting ray bestie, I have his trope to callum!)

pato o ward

reverse grumpy sunshine!!! pato is a bright ball of sunshine and in an ideal romance book he would pair with a girl who is a little grumpy (just a little bit) and cynical about falling in love and then dear sweet patricio would sweep in and show her just how magical being in love can be and show her that soulmates are real and life doesn’t have to be doom and gloom all the time

josef newgarden

single dad x nanny trope! I can see this playing out as recently widowed josef (probably not the right word) struggling to balance being the only caregiver for his son next to his racing career. cue y/n, the nanny he hires to watch after his son while he’s away and competing. he’s scared to fall in love again because he’s still grieving what he once had, but his son grows attached to y/n and how could josef not fall in love with someone his son loves so much?

kyle kirkwood

second chance romance! he lost her once, and now that she’s back in his life he won’t give her up!! the way I see this one playing out is that maybe they were together before kyle made it to the big leagues, back when nobody in america knew his name. but while she was deciding which ivy league scholarship to choose, Kyle is thinking about his career. she gives him an ultimatum, and he picks racing. so she goes to her big fancy school and forgets about him. but when a family tragedy brings her back to florida and she comes face to face with kyle, who is now a grand prix winner, hes desperate to keep her from being the one who got away.

colton herta

accidental pregnancy!! their relationship was falling apart, the distance and the pressures of colton’s career. eating them alive. words were said that couldn’t be taken back. so they called it quits, he moved to nashville and she tried to keep her head down and finish school. until she missed her period. her world seems to be ending with those two little lines, but she still cares about him. she can’t just keep coltons child a secret from him, this disaster is as much his fault as it is hers. so she goes to indiana the weekend before the 500 and she tells him. tensions are running high between them both, but they’re trying to do right by each other and the baby, and the experience reminds them that maybe they were meant to be together all along.

marcus armstrong

brothers best friend!!! y/n ilott knows that marcus is off limits. since she was fifteen she’s thought all her brothers friends were gross anyways. marcus was always by far the most annoying. fast forward a few years and they’re racing together in the same series again and suddenly marcus armstrong isn’t a gross as she remembers. and has his voice always been that sexy?? but callum can NEVER know.

david malukas

wrong number! let’s face it this man is too lazy to make contacts for half of the names in his phone. he was so sure that was sting rays number. why wouldn’t it be, the man from idaho had typed it in himself. turns out, it wasn’t sting ray at all, but some random college student who lived over a thousand miles away. he starts to text her when she gets bored, eventually progressing to face time calls, and begins to get flustered once he has a face to put with the personality. ends with him flying out to meet in her in person.

christian lundgaard

fake dating! he shouldn’t have done it. every bone in his body told him not to do it but the panicked look on her face was enough to make christian agree to pretend to be her boyfriend to scare off her cheating ex boyfriend, who was making her seriously uncomfortable. it was just supposed to be for the weekend, until the guy started leaving her alone. but a lot can happen on one race weekend and suddenly it doesn’t seem so fake anymore.

callum ilott

childhood friends to lovers! they were always just supposed to be friends, but if that’s the case, why does callum hate her new boyfriend now that the relationship is getting serious? why does y/n still feel like something is missing? cue a drunken night out leading to the hottest sex callum has ever had and lingering questions on both sides about what they really truly want out of life and love.

TAGS:

@clemswrld @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiasundays @scuderiamh @lorarri

Seb and jenson would totally dom her but so softly, soft doms and worship her

yeah this definitely sky rocketed on the smut priority 😩😩💖

so much eye contact and assurance; you're the priority, so they're constantly asking if you feel good? if you're sure? just, so much comfort and putting you above anything.

and so much kisses; their mouth is literally touching upon every part of your skin, as if writing poetry on every inch of your body.

they hold you tenderly, marvel at you with so much awe and hold you in that blissed out haze. they're coaching moans and whines out from you, praising you for doing "so well, pretty girl. the most beautiful sight i've ever laid my eyes upon..." while jenson literally made your back arch from his expert ministrations.

(i had a really filthy thought after this... like just sebastian gripping your jaw and holding you captive in a hungry gaze... telling you to open 😩😩😩 if ykyk )

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

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

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

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

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

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

however, it absolutely sends you into subspace

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but it isn't foreplay, in a sense

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

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

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

idk man, that vid of seb doing pushups in the am plank video makes my mouth water and pussy clench

GEORGE RUSSELL P2 | 2022 DUTCH GP © Steven Tee

“remember that night?” - ms47

pairing: mick schumacher x ex!reader

in which they spend one last night together

word count: 2.4k

content warnings: none, lazy writing towards the middle i’m sorry

song: remember that night? by sara kays

masterlist

you don’t know how long it took to get over him the first time, but you remember how hard it was. sleepless nights spent crying and reading old text messages, sad songs made as a soundtrack for each of your memories, endless rants to your friends about how you were so good together and you don’t know what went wrong.

eventually, you found it was easier to just forget about him than to patch up the hole shaped like him in your heart. it worked - you hadn’t thought of him in the weeks since you finally deleted all his photos and messages from your phone. 

his contact was the one thing you didn’t delete though, but even then, when your phone starts ringing on a quiet tuesday night, you never would’ve expected it to be him. 

you start to reach for your phone to mute the call, then pause, waiting to see if it would keep ringing. then the buzzing stops, and it’s just his name sitting as a missed call in your notifications. you contemplate messaging him to see if everything is okay, but quickly decide against it. 

but maybe it’s the sight of the blue heart still next to his name, or the sudden longing you feel at the realisation you were so close to hearing his voice again after so long that it strikes something in your chest and compels you to pick up your phone and dial back his number. 

it rings once, twice, and you’re already anticipating his voice after the third ring. he’s never let it ring more than three times when it comes to you. 

“liebling?” his voice is raspy, like it how it used to be when he was close to falling asleep or had just woken up. the sound of your old nickname masked in the voice you once so ardently loved makes you grip your phone tighter in both hands as you try to stop yourself from saying something stupid. “y/n? are you there?”

“hi, mick,” you finally breathe out. 

“hi. i didn’t think you’d answer.” and you must be imagining it but as his voice starts to clear, you can hear the underlying hints of a smile in his tone. 

“is everything okay?”

“yes. i just… i mean you can hang up if you want.” then he falters. “no, actually. can i pick you up?”

“like… now?” it’s almost 11pm, and while you’re nowhere close to sleeping, it’s sure as hell not a time you go out. 

“yes.”

“you’re in town?”

“yes,” he repeats. 

“why?”

“because why not?” 

you’re tempted to say yes, even though seeing him again would just unravel all the effort you put into getting over him. but he’s always had that effect on you, where because of him, you make stupid decisions. the first was falling in love with him. the next? 

“yeah,” you say quickly before you can take it back. 

there’s rustling on his side of the call as he makes his way around the house. “i’ll be there in thirty minutes. dress warm, it’s going to rain out.”

you’re about to thank him for the tip when he hangs up, leaving you alone to wonder what the fuck you just got yourself into. just then, it starts to pour. 

—

his car pulls up in front of your house forty minutes later. the driver’s door slams as he gets out, rounding the car to open your door for you. 

“hi.”

“hey,” he grins at you, jacket and beanie engulfing his large frame. he gives you a quick side hug and even through all your layers, every nerve in your body is set off at his touch. 

he waits for you to get in the car and you realise that he put on the seat warmer for you, just how you liked it when it was cold out. 

the gesture warms your body and face. you hadn’t thought he’d remember that about you, but that was only one thing to add to tonight’s list of surprises. 

he’s quiet when he gets in, starts up the car and drives away from the curb, before asking, “how’ve you been?”

“i’m good. i got laid off a while ago, but i start a new job on friday. what about you? i heard you’re a reserve driver for mercedes now?”

he glances over at you, raises a brow. “you still keep up with formula one?”

“i like the drama,” you shrug.

he whistles lowly. “drive to survive fan over here, guys. tell me, what’s drs?”

“no,” you say softly. “someone i used to care about recommended it to me.”

and even though you said used to, he suppresses a smile at the fact that you’ve kept something from your relationship close to you. 

you make small talk for a while - how’s his mother, father? is angie doing well? how’s the past seven months fared you? you fire questions back and forth between each other and for a while, there’s a semblance of normality in whatever is going on between you. 

soon, he notices the way you shiver slightly despite him having run the heater. 

“are you cold? here, take my beanie.” he tugs his beanie off his head before giving it to you to put on. you take it gratefully, slipping it on. 

you both fall silent for a second, and just as you open your mouth to ask him what the hell you’re doing here, he’s blurting out, “why did you call me back?”

you freeze. that hadn’t been what you were expecting. but you reckon if there’s a time for honesty, it’s now. “because i missed you.”

you catch the way he throws his head back in relief, a grin spreading across his face. “why did you call in the first place?” you ask. 

“because i missed you.” he states simply. truthfully. 

it’s like a weight has been taken off your chest at your admission. in that little moment, with him by your side, you feel content. happier than you’ve been in a long time. it’s a brave move when he nudges his hand against yours, but you accept it quickly, placing your palm over his. 

you look out the window as he drives, headlights casting shadows over the rainy streets. through the dim lighting you can make out the familiar scenery. 

the long winding road brings back memories of singing karaoke in the car, conversations with no meaning and driving around with no place to be and nowhere you wanted to go, so long as you were with each other.  

you recognise the path he’s taking - towards the small observation point that overlooks the whole town. you know he’s going to swing by the 24 hour ice cream shop on the way there, and there when you realise he’s taking you out for a night of old traditions. 

the car rolls to the stop and then he pats your thigh with an i’ll be back, running out into the rain to the store before you can even remind him of your order. you doubt he’s forgotten. and in his absence, you can’t help but smile to yourself at his kind words and sweeter gestures, despite knowing better. despite knowing that going with him was stupid and risky and chances are, when you leave him in the morning, you’re going to leave with a broken heart. 

your thoughts are cut off by mick sliding back into his seat, a cup of chocolate chip ice cream in one hand, a cone of strawberry in the other. 

“strawberry, please,” you say and he hands you the cone, watches you take it then wrinkle your nose before grabbing at the choc chip. 

his laughter rings through the car, clear through the pounding rain and you’re sure you’ve never heard something more joyful than in that moment. “you’re so predictable.” 

mick drives you to the lookout so you can watch the views as you eat. you sit in silence at the top, “strawberries & cigarettes” by troye sivan playing softly from the radio. the town is quiet below you too, lit by the starry night sky, only a few stray lights on in the odd night owls’ home. it’s peaceful and calm, and you’re content with mick and for moment all feels right, despite everything about your night being completely wrong. 

and when you’re both done, he turns you, brows furrowing as he realises something. 

his hand cups your chin, guiding you to look at him. “you’ve got a little…” he mutters, thumb gently swiping the ice cream from the corner of your mouth. 

“thank you,” you whisper. his gaze flicks across your face - from your eyes to your mouth then back again. you find yourself mimicking his actions and there’s an intense panging in your chest when your eyes meet his again. 

“i want you back.” 

your heart plummets - those were the words you’d been dreading to hear. “mick, don’t say that. don’t do that to me.”

he rears back at the sudden sharpness of your tone, and you see the exact moment he begins to disassociate, his composure breaking and demeanour falling. “but i do, i’ve always-”

“mick, can you please not?” you beg. you reach up to hold his face so that his gaze is focused solely on you. “what we had, mick, it was good. but when we ended, it hurt me, because losing you felt like losing air. yes, i miss you but missing you is different to still wanting you. i can’t afford to want you again because it might just kill me this time.”

“liebling-”

“this, right now, is good. so can we please keep it just like this? nothing more.”

it’s as though the light in his eyes dim at your words and he just nods, before turning away and turning the ignition on. his voice is hoarse when he says, “it’s way too late. let me take you back home.”

an apology is at the tip of your tongue - if you take back what you said, what would change between you two? you didn’t want to go back to what you used to be, you just wanted him. but wanting him again is impossible. you don’t know what to do; you just want him to stop frowning. so you reach out for his hand, and he lets your fingers find home in his palm before closing his fist around yours. 

“mick, we’re okay,” you reassure. “but we can’t do this again.” 

he nods again, swallowing deeply. “i understand.” 

and you leave it at that. 

the ride home is silent and tense but not awkward. things are never awkward with mick. he parks in your driveway before getting out of the car to open your door. you step out of the car with a thank you and stop in front of him. it’s still raining heavily, so he goes to pull the beanie he gave you further down your head, but stops halfway to rest his palms on your cheeks. 

“can i have a hug?” 

and with mick’s hands cradling your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks, deep blue eyes staring into yours, you have no choice but to nod, and he practically falls into your hold, arms dropping to wrap around your waist and keep himself steady. “nothing more.”

“then i just need this,” he mumbles into your neck. but you know it’s more than that, so you just hold him. you feel his body loosen as he relaxes, breaths evening out. he emanates warmth and goodness and-

“it’s getting late,” he groans, tearing himself off you. “i have to go.” 

you don’t want him to, you’d much rather stay wrapped up in this moment forever. wrapped up in him forever. but you know better so you just nod. “okay. okay.”

he leans forward as though to kiss you, but you flatten a hand to his chest. “mick…” you warn lowly. 

his eyes soften before he whispers an apology and presses a light, barely there kiss to your cheek. he moves to reach behind you and get your things, then hesitates for a second. 

and then his lips are crashing to yours in a desperate kiss, and he’s telling you every i’m sorry, i love you, it’s okay through it. it’s frantic and passionate and everything you’ve loved about him since you first met him. so you grip onto his jacket, pressing into his body as much as you possibly can, savouring the moment because you know you’re never going to have another like it.

he pulls away first, resting his forehead on yours, before handing you your things, even going so far as to tugging your jacket tighter around your body. so my girl doesn’t get sick. 

even though you’re just in your driveway, two steps away from warmth, you’d stay standing in the pouring rain just to keep his hands on you longer. 

“i’ll see you around, yeah?” his hand is warm in yours when he holds it for the last time, tightening his fingers as though it would meld your bodies together and you’d never have to be separated again. and then mick is pulling away from you one last time, his face unreadable, and his smile never quite reaching his eyes. 

the rain starts to come down harder, soaking you cold to the bone, and you turn around, making a beeline for your front door. you’d never say it out loud but you’re glad it rained - it’s the only thing that keeps you from running right back into his arms. 

it’s harder to move on from him this time. 

months later, no matter how hard you try, that night never slips from your memory. you can recall every brush of his fingertips against yours, the calloused pad of his thumb on your skin, and the heavy weight of his hand on your thigh when you two finally became comfortable again in each other’s presence. the way his voice changed and his laughter erupted whenever you smiled at him is engraved into your brain, and you’re sure the way he kissed you became your lifeline.  

most of all, you remember the way his face fell when you pushed him away again, his dejected sigh as he accepted your decision, blue eyes electric with so many words left unspoken as you turned away one last time. 

but the one thing you desperately try to forget is the way he lingered in the driveway, waiting for you to come back. 

—

author’s note: thank youuuu @disneyprincemuke i don’t know how i feel about this but i hope i didnt disappoint

kissing him from forehead to waist on a lazy day spent in bed just so that he gets all warm and flustered and hard as a rock before i pull down his underwear and ride him until he’s moaning broken i love you’s into my mouth