Giving Gamer!james Head While He Is On The Headset 🤭🤭

If Daddy Knew || T.W x Horner!Reader

Warnings: 18+, hair pulling, oral (M&F reviving), handjob, fingering, degrading kink, praise kink

Wordcount: 2.1k

If she knew how this would end up in the long term, she would had agreed to go with her father a lot sooner

She would always say no if she was invited to a Grand Prix and to come to the paddock

She hadn’t always been the most social person, and she was scared she would mess up her words or don’t talk at all

This time was different

She felt confident that day. She has been invited again, and she said yes. It surprised her father. He couldn’t understand why she said yes

She couldn’t either, but she’s glad she did

As she stood in the Red Bull garage, she kept feeling like she was stared down by people outside of the garage

And she was right. When she got to the paddock afterwards, people still kept staring her down as she walked with her father. He wanted to introduce her to all the drivers and team principals

It all went good, until they reached Mercedes

Don’t take it the wrong way, they were all very nice, but after she had greeted the drivers, she had to meet the team principal

Toto Wolff

She had heard about him through her father, now, of course she didn’t take his word for it. They were rivals after all, they’re bound to say bad stuff about each other that weren’t true

“Darling, this is Toto Wolff” He said his name through gritted teeth

“Hi. I’ve heard so much about you” He didn’t answer her, he just looked her up and down and went back to what he was doing

She would have said something about his rudeness, only if he hadn’t been so handsome

Maybe he was all those things her dad said

The rest of the day, she thought about Toto and if it was something she did or said to make him rude, or if it was just how he was

It finally became Sunday and she stood in the garage. She knew it was bad, but she kept starting at Toto from the distance

“You okay, dear?” Christian asked her as he walked over to her “You’ve been kinda starting out in the abyss” He chuckled

“Yeah, I’m fine, dad. Thank you” She nodded up at him

The race went well. Max won, no surprise there. We all knew he was gonna win. Even the opposite teams knew he was gonna win

That night, they all went out celebrating the win, even though it was routine that he won by now

She drank to keep the thoughts away. She really wanted to be on his good side, but how could she do that?

The next morning she woke up with a slight headache, but nothing a few painkillers couldn’t take away

Just as she was about to brush her teeth, her phone started ringing. It was an unknown number

“Y/N Horner” She answered the phone

“Hi, Y/N, it’s Toto Wolff” His accent was thick through the phone “I just wanted to apologise my behaviour when we met. I’m sure you’re aware that me and your father don’t have the bestest of friendship, that was the only reason why I didn’t say anything, and that’s no reason, I know, but I just wanted to apologise. Can I buy you some coffee to make up for it?”

She stood and thought about her answer a while “Yeah, that sounds nice. When?” She finally answered and she heard him sigh on the other end

“Great. Shall we say 12 o’clock at the Café across the street?” God, his accent was to swoon over

“Yeah. That’s perfect” A smirk drew on her lips. They hung up and she looked at the time. It was currently 10. She had two hours

Two hours would have been fine if she had anything to wear. She tried to look through her clothes. She tried all the combinations of clothing that was clean

She finally settled for an outfit after 45 minutes and some going back and forth trough clothes

Before she put on her clothes, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She stood there for what felt like hours, but was actually only 10 minutes

She looked back at the clock after she got dressed and put on her shoes. 11:30. She debated if she should go now and be early, or if she should wait and be on time

She has only now realised she had forgotten her perfume. She founded and sprayed it lightly on the skin on her neck

She now decided to go out, but she should probably had waited. She bumped into her father in the hallway

“Where you going in such a hurry?” He chuckled as he looked her up and down

“I was just going out, checking the city out” She smiled innocently

“Okay. Have fun, don’t be out too late” He said to her before he continued to walk away

She continued to walk over to the elevator. The ride down to the lobby seemed like it took ages. She got to the lobby and walked out and across the street

She walked into the Café. She looked around to see if she could see Toto. She found him sitting at a booth up against the far wall. She sat down across him

“Hello, can I get you anything?” The waiter asked as she walked over to them

“I would like a coffee, black and a chocolate scone” Toto said as he looked from her to the waiter

“Can I get a hot chocolate and a croissant?” She asked as she looked up at her

“Of course. I’ll bring it down for you” She smiled and walked over to the counter

“I’m sorry for how I reacted, Y/N, I really am” He rambled and she just stared at him

“Toto, it’s fine. It’s no problem. I know how your relationship is with my dad, I totally understand” She smiled at him, trying to reassure him

“Yeah, I’m not friends with your dad, but I shouldn’t take that out on you” He sighed as he placed his hand on top of hers

“Toto, don’t worry about it, okay?” She smiled at him, looking him in his eyes through his glasses

All he did was nod before the waitress came over with their order. As they sat and drank their coffee and ate their food, they made small talk

The only annoying thing about this whole conversation was his smile. He would smile every so often, and it made her legs week

Everything that happened between that time and when they were in the elevator was a blur for her. All she knew was that she was pressed up against the elevators wall, her hands intertwined in his hair while his lips was on hers as his hands roamed her hips and waist

The ding of the elevator startled them. They hurried out into the hall and over to her room. She struggled a bit when she opened the door, but managed fine

As they got into the room, he pushed her up against the door. Her hands went to his waist, and in one swift motion, she had them turned around

Her hands went up his torso to unbutton his shirt. When she got the last button unbuttoned, she discarded the shirt on the ground

Her hand went to his hair to pull his head back so she could start attacking his necks with kisses and bites. He groaned at the sudden dominance from her. Her other hand went to unbuckle his belt

Toto covered his mouth with his hand to minimise the sounds that came out of him. She took her hand away from his belt and up to his hand to remove it from his mouth

“I want to hear your sounds, Toto” She said as she drew away from his neck, which drew out a groan from him “Fuck, you sounds so pretty” He could feel her smirk on his neck

She turned them around again, but this time, she guided him towards the bed, their shoes getting kicked off in the process

When the back off Toto’s legs hit the bed, she pushed him down to sit. She got on her knees and zipped down his pants

He bucked his up from the bed so she could pull down his pants and boxers. When she had gotten them off, she threw them beside her

She licked a stripe up his shaft before spitting into her hand, and started stroking him slowly. He started moaning low, almost silently

“Keep up those sounds, I wanna hear you, baby” She told him as she looked up at him from between his knees

Her words could make him undone right then and there “Fuck, I want your mouth around me, please” His voice was getting desperate and his accent was getting heavier

She removed her hand, but quickly replaced it with her mouth. His moans got louder as she started moving her head up and down

He started bucking his hips up, trying to fuck her mouth, but her hands came up to push him back down to stop his movements, which makes him groan in annoyance

“Fucking shit, Ah…” He wasn’t making any effort to swallow his moans “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, please. I’m so-Ah. I’m so close” His head leaned back and his eyes rolled to the back of his head

His hand was shaking when he drew it up to his face to take off his glasses as they started fogging up. He got them off and threw them on the ground, not caring if they broke or not

“I can’t- Ah. Fuck, please, I can’t take it anymore” His words didn’t stop her actions, if it did anything, it made her faster

A few seconds later and he came down her throat. She held her head down as he finished. She got off of him and swallowed his loath

He was panting hard when she stood up. She took his chin between her fingers making him look at her. She kissed him deeply, making him taste himself on her tongue

“Think you can return the favour?” She asked seductively. With closed eyes, he nodded “Good. Get on your knees” He quickly got on his knees where she once sat as she herself sat on the bed

She leaned back, her weight resting on her hands. She watched as his trembling hands tried opening the button on her jeans

She chuckled seeing him struggling “God you’re pathetic” She pushed his hands away to do it herself. She lifted her hips so he could pull down her pants and panties throwing them away with the rest of the clothes on the floor

He pulled her close to the edge of the bed, and therefore closer to his mouth. He drew his tongue through her soaking folds

“What wouldn’t my father say, hm?” She drew one of her hands through his soft, brown locks when he started attacking her clit

“His biggest rival eating out his daughter” He groaned into her cunt from her degrading, making her moan “What don’t you think he will do? Most likely kill you, or maybe, he would never invite me again to keep me as far away from you as possible so this could never happen again”

He groaned again, making her grip his hair tight and moan louder than before “Fuck, you’re so beautiful from here” She chuckled mixed with a moan

He drew one of his hands towards her cunt. One of his fingers drew through her folds, stopping at her entrance. She moaned as he entered her slowly

He started going in and out of her, drawing loud moans from her. He added another finger as he started curling his fingers up and hitting the spot inside her that made her see stars

Her moans got louder and heavier as she was pulled closer to the edge of her orgasm “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me, Toto” She moaned pulling his hair so his face got showed into her cunt

“Fuck, I’m so close. Fucking keep going. Ah” Her head rolled back while she bucked her hips up and into his mouth “You’re doing so fucking good” He groaned which send her over the edge. Her legs shakes as she came down from her high

“Fuck, you did so good for me” She smiled down at him as she drew his face up to look at her “So fucking good” She leaned down to kiss him

Control! Your! Self! - James Wilson

Summary: House knows you (a frathouse’s sweetheart and his favourite patient) have been hooking up with Wilson, despite Wilson’s constant denying. But, he just knows a way to make his friend crack—your sororities fundraiser.

Includes: Readers Nickname is Aelia, (Reader is 28ish), FratSweetheart!Reader, FWB, Nearly Getting Caught, Workplace Sex, Car Wash, Wilson Gets Flustered, Hilson (If You Squint), House Sorts of Gets Off Watching Wilson Get Off? Wilson Pops a Boner!

The bi-weekly checkups (that were scheduled to end months ago) with House since your knee surgery, always ended up with you in James Wilson’s office, the blinds pulled tightly shut and a hefty armchair pressed up against the door.

Wilson’s warm and veiny hands caressed the smooth crescent of your waist, squeezing at the fat of your hips whilst his bucked into yours painfully (but pleasurably) slow as you sat on his desk.

Your connected lips stifled each of your desperate moans, having to keep quiet as Wilson’s doctors and interns walked past his office, unbeware of the Head of Oncology’s absence.

Gosh was it hard.

Ankles crossed around his waist, you’re gripping the hair at the back of Wilson’s neck, fingers coiling around the chocolate waves. You tug every so often, eliciting a hearty guttural groan from the man above you, setting your skin on fire.

Forcing his cock all the way inside of you, tightening your hold around his body, Wilson lets out a deep whine, letting his head drop to rest between your bare collarbones.

“You’ve got to give me some sort of warning… what if House were to walk by and hear that?” Wilson hisses, his index finger tracing below your belly button, it tickled.

“You’re always bringing up House, I’d rather you didn’t with your dick inside me.” You giggled, pecking his lips and shuffling your body closer to the desks edge.

Pressing down on your abdomen, Wilson can feel himself in your stomach, rearranging your insides. His balls tighten, knowing you can take all of him inside your heavenly tight pussy.

“He’s ever-consuming…” he whined as you bite a sensitive spot on his neck, lapping your tongue over it to soothe the bruise, “… just like your pussy, my god.”

Ogling down at where your hips lay flush, Wilson feels tears tickling at his waterline, the sight of your walls inviting his length in never gets old.

The desk begins to rattle, Wilson’s impending orgasm creeping up at him at the sight of you under him.

Your fingers rub at your clit in circles, bottom lip tugged between your teeth and your gorgeous eyes curtained through closed lids—you felt like you were ascending.

Like ecstasy was coursing through your veins, your supplier being Wilson’s raw and passionate thrusts.

“Fuck, James. I’m so close…” trembled past your parted lips, heavy breathes brushing against his bushy eyebrows that are pulled together in deep concentration.

Looking into your eyes, Wilson nods his head frantically, “Good girl, come undone for me.” He ordered and you did.

Your orgasm came in red hot, causing you to shudder and clench around Wilson—who was so close too.

He groaned like he was in psychical pain as you rolled your hips onto his, to be honest he was in pain, he needed the sweet relief of coming soon.

Lifting your hips up as pure bliss came over you like a thick blanket, sweat beads painting your hairline, your toes clenched and your spine tingled as you finally came down from your high.

“Such a gorgeous girl, I’m so lucky.” Wilson said, cradling your face in his large palms, thumb rubbing over the apple of your cheek.

“Fucking me so good I might just make you mine.” your fucked our mind spoke for you, gazing at the doctor under hooded lids.

“Yeah?” Your pussy seemed to tighten again (somehow) and Wilson’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he mumbled incoherent nonsense.

“Mhmm, take you back to the frat house, show you off to the boys.” Wilson whimpered as pre-cum drizzled inside of you. “They’ll be so jealous, they all want me but I’m devoted to you, only.

“Imagine House’s face when he walks in on us in your apartment, looking so innocent sat on your lap watching ‘Tivo’, not realising you’re balls deep in me.”

Your dirtiest fantasies tip Wilson over the age, he cums staring into your eyes. His eyes gloss over with pure pleasure, his lazy eye (that you absolutely adore) turns in slightly when he moans.

As his hips jerk, balls pressing against your ass trying to shove his cock as deep as possible, you smile at each other through the haze of your orgasms.

Pulling out, a mix of both of your fluids seep out onto the desk, “Look at that, got me cumming so hard, baby.” You purred.

“And a lot, I think you might need to get checked out.” He tutted, spreading your folds, ogling at your soppy pussy.

If you had been any less sensitive, his mouth would’ve been lapping at your wetness immediately; that was too cruel though, he’d barely touched you and you were already twitching,

“Really, that much? You know any good gyno’s?”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Wilson nodded, “I’d say I’m pretty seasoned in that area, you could always come to me. You might need daily check-up, sweetie.”

Laughing, you slapped his hands away from your core, “But I thought you were an oncologist?”

“Who says a man can’t do both?” Grinning, he softly kissed your neck up to your jawline.

Scooping the mixture with your finger, you commanded Wilson to open up. Sticking your finger down his throat, Wilson suckles on your flesh before pulling off with a pop!

“You’re good, too good. Where’d you study?” You tease, leaning on your forearms against some of Wilson’s papers whilst he cleaned your wetness up with a tower (that he’d brought from home, knowing you had an appointment with House that day).

“I’m a Doctor, Aelia, I know all about anatomy.” He shrugged with a toothy grin, chucking the towel into an empty drawer.

Pulling his boxers over his hips and buttoning his slacks up (biting his tongue when the fabric brushed harshly against his worn out cock), he sat back in his leather chair, patting his thighs.

Eagerly dropping yourself into his lap after shuffling your tight shorts back on, you pressed a tender kiss to his Adam’s apple and then his cheek.

“I’m also a married man, twice divorced. I know how to please a woman.”

“You sure do, Peepaw.” Gasping, Wilson tickled your sides, ripping an almighty giggle from your throat.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain Head of Diagnostics, hobbled by. After trying to escape from Cuddy who was adamant on forcing clinic hours on the doctor.

He also was going to steal Wilson’s lunch, ergo why he stopped right outside.

House’s ears perked up at the sound of sweet giggles. Sure, Wilson had a nice laugh, but it was never that high-pitched.

And then, when he tried to burst in but was blocked by a heavy force pushing against the door, he knew something was up.

Eyes wide, you watched in shock as the handle to Wilson’s office rattled furiously. Facing the oncologist, he squeezed your hips and lifted you up onto your feet.

Passing you your little handbag and sweater you arrived in, he motioned towards the large windows adjacent to his desk.

Furrowing your eyebrows you shook your head rapidly, there was no way you were jumping out of that into the bushes below—you had dignity!

Tilting his head tentatively, Wilson clasped his hands together in a begging motion. “One minute House, the doorknobs going to fall off if you shake it any harder!”

“Another knobs going to be removed if you don’t let me in here, now!” House shouted, banging his fists on the wooden door.

Sighing deeply, running a shaky hand through his hair, Wilson rushed over to you and directed you towards the open window. He hushed you as you began to retaliate.

“Please just do it, I’ll stop by later and make it up to you.” Wilson promised, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the back of his finger along your cheek.

“You fucking better James Wilson. I’ll tell one of the frat boys to let you in.” Straddling the window ledge, Wilson gave you a pitied look and you rolled your eyes playfully.

Leaving him with a linger peck on the lips, you slid out of his office and landed on the soft grass—thank God he was situated on the bottom floor.

Otherwise you’d have no more legs for him to make weak.

Slicking his frizzy hair down, Wilson pushed the chair away from the door, allowing House to barge in like it was his own office.

He didn’t say a word as he leant on his cane, narrow his eyes, scanning the room for anything suspicious. He stopped when he reached the open window, the blinds fluttered in the Summer breeze, almost too much.

“Somethings fishy here…” House decides, plopping into Wilson’s chair and rifling through a draw pulling out a plastic container—his lunch.

Hiding his chuckle behind a cough, Wilson picked up the messy files that he was reading before you had strutted in. Legs for miles on full display, nipples perked that pierced through the hoodie—safe to say, he had gotten a little distracted.

“I’m not entirely sure Aelia would be too pleased with that statement…” he mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”, “Nothing.”

“No, I mean what is that?” House’s nose scrunches up, not in disgust, but in confusion.

Jutting his bottom lip out, too confused, Wilson turns and is greeted to a discarded blue lace bra, hanging off a picture frame. Oh.

That must’ve been hanging there since your entrance. Flung off and forgotten about in the midst of a passionate make out session, before Wilson received a soul sucking blowjob that left his teeth chattering.

Heart dropping to his stomach, Wilson reaches out to snatch at the bra, shoving it down his trousers, “There are the sneaky things.”

“Have you started wearing ladies lingerie, Wilson? Was part of the special dessert you were making for us tonight?”

Running a stress hand over his face, Wilson had to think fast, “No, those are my wife’s. Well they were until they went missing. Don’t know how they’ve ended up… there…”

“Can’t of been your wife’s, wayyy too big to be hers.” Wilson glares at House, whose face scrunched up in a devious beam.

Dropping the smile immediately, House began to poke at a cupboard with his cane.

“Aelia, I know you’re in there, come out. You’re busted.”

Scratching his head awkwardly, Wilson stuck his bottom lip up and shrugged, “She’s not in there, I haven’t seen her since her last checkup.”

Huffing, House shook his head and rolled his eyes sassily—like a deranged teenage girl—tutting at his best friend’s serious expression as he opened the cupboard door.

“I can assure you. Why would she be in my cupboard anyway?”

“Because, my dear friend… I have eyes and ears. You’re hooking up with my patient!” chewing on his lip, Wilson placed his hands on his hips and whispered.

“You’re right…”

Eyes widening, lips curling upwards ever so slightly, House’s voice dropped an octave, “You are?”

“No.” Wilson deadpanned, shuffling through his files and placing them neatly on his desk, grabbing a pen to sign off some patients further-going treatment.

“That’s it.” House banged his stick on the carpeted floor (for dramatic effect), Wilson raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “If you’re not going to tell me, I’m going to weasel it out of you.”

Pulling a rumpled flyer out of his blazer pocket, slamming it down in front of Wilson on the desk. Grumbling (because he now actually had work to do), Wilson unenthusiastically pickled the paper up, pinching the corners with his thumb and index finger.

“Sorority Fundraiser?” Wilson questioned, flicking the leaflet over, he was greeted with a group photo of a nearby sorority.

His eyes immediately gravitated to you, you were so much prettier than the others, a large cheesy smile gracing your features, sticking your tongue out cheekily, long hair cascading down your back as you leant your head against a friend’s.

The throbbing in his trousers he was so familiar with that day returned too, scoping your outfit; a bralette with tiny denim shorts.

“No… House, please.” Wilson pleaded, folding the leaflet over and shoving it into a drawer (the one with the sticky towel hidden in) for later use. “How’d you even get this, because I know Aelia wouldn’t invite you to this.”

“‘Course not, that’s like inviting your uncle to your strip show. I nabbed it off the Aussie Ken-doll, Aelia had slipped it to him before her check-up.”

Heat stirred in Wilson’s belly at the revelation, he was fired up with jealousy; why would you invite Chase and not him?

He must’ve been speaking his thoughts aloud as House tsked. “Maybe she needs someone less pre-historic?”

Chomping into (what was Wilson’s lunch) the bell-pepper with spicy rice and cherry tomatoes, House crunched onto a tomato, purposefully sending seeds flying all over Wilson’s clean shirt

Pulling into the car-park outside the sorority house, a crowd of girls circled House’s beaten down Dodge Dynasty.

Their tits squished together and pushed up through their tight bra’s, skin partially covered in soapy bubbles that overflowed from nearby buckets.

Hair tied back with multi-coloured scrunchies, lips pouty as they seductively rinsed sponges off over their collarbones—it was like a scene straight out of a 80’s porno.

Wilson had never seen his best friend’s grin so wide as a college student knocked on the window, House’s fingers trembled, placing a crisp 20 dollar bill in the girl’s palm.

“Girls look! It’s that hot doctor.” A close friend of yours, Estella; a bubbly girl whose wild curls matched her personality; shrieked from across the parking lot.

Pointing a manicured finger in Wilson’s direction, House swivelled to face the oncologist incredulously, who was slowly sinking further into the passenger seat, hands pressed firmly over his eyes.

“My, my would you look at that! You’re like a ol’ regular around here, you perv.” House nudged Wilson’s side.

Resting his forearm on the windowsill, House whispered something to one of your sorority sisters, handing them another 20 bucks before they hurried off towards another car.

“W-what did you do? 40 bucks, House that’s insane!” Wilson babbled, loosening his tie from around his neck that seemed to be suffocating him.

Dismissing him with a wave of his hand, House leaned back in his seat, slowly raising his sunglasses over his eyes.

“Paid a little extra for a select cleaner, and what’s the harm? It’s for the greater good of society.”

“I’m not sure practically prostituting these sorority girls for your sick entertainment is for the ‘greater good’, House.” Wilson scoffed.

“Hah, don’t lie. You’ll love it!”

That’s when you come skipping over, sporting a string bikini, tied loosely in bows at your hip, and… god does Wilson hate when House is right.

“Woah…” House voices Wilson’s thoughts, eyes trained on you as wiggle your hips in excitement at Tina (who was now wafting herself with the 2 20 dollar bills), beaming at the hot doctor’s special request.

Winking at your friends, they all wiggle their eyebrows towards each other, going back to cleaning the other cars to keep the other men waiting patiently with their tongues hanging out entertained.

Wrapping your finger against Wilson’s window, chewing on your bottom lip to hide your knowing smile, he smiled back weakly.

“Well morning, James.” You giggle after House rolled the window down, leaning into the car and purposefully pushing your tits together into the doctors face.

He can House stifle a snort beside him, “Ah! Aelia, fancy see you here.”

“Likewise, doctor and… other doctor.” You wave at House who waves back, body shuddering with laughter at Wilson, who was not-so discreetly averting his gaze from your breasts to your face every micro-second.

“We’re just in great need of a thorough wash, nice and soapy.” House drawls.

Quirking an eyebrow at Wilson, his face is steaming hot and you can tell he’s mortified. He’s sweating through his t-shirt and sporting a growing bulge in his trousers, something you’re now all so familiar with.

“I see, anything for my favourite doctors.”

As you move with purpose over to a discarded bucket of water and soap, Wilson slams the window switch and groans at House’s laughter.

“I get this is a whole thing to stitch me up, but this is plain humiliating, House!” He seethes, chest rising and falling dramatically as he catches a glimpse of you.

Leaning over to pick a sponge up, giving him a perfect outline of your sodden bikini bottoms, he lets out a shaky breathe.

“See, this is what happens when you don’t tell your old man things.” House shrugs, “I could get used to this you know.”

He adds, leaning against his hands, leaning into the drivers seat, watching his favourite client begin to scrub at the bonnet of his car.

Wilson grits his teeth in frustration, but his jaw falls slack when you make eye contact. When you tilt your head tentatively at him, flicking your braids sending them cascading over your shoulder, careful not to graze them with the soapy water, Wilson knows he’s a goner.

Pulling his right leg to his chest, he tries to hide his impossibly hard erection from his best friend, who stares at him like he’s insane.

“What are you doing?” House questions, fussing with Wilson’s knee to push it back down but he’s met with a whole body’s worth of force.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Wilson responds, squinting as he tries to find your blurry figure through the windshield, now covered in soapy water that you’d thrown onto the car.

“So you admit it?”

“Admit what?” Wilson sighs deeply, carefully palming himself through his trousers, praying House can’t see his desperate actions.

“That’s you two are… hooking up, having sexual intercourse, riding the flagpole? Fucking, shagging, doing the devil’s tango, indulging in a bit of hanky panky—“

“God, alright! Jesus House.” Wilson covers his ears with his hands, face scrunching up in disgust at his friend’s words, “We’re hooking up.”

Placing his foot back down on the mat, exposing his covered erection, House whistled lowly and scoffs. “My goodness, you hiding one of my canes down there?”

Groaning, tugging at the roots of his hair, Wilson pleads, “Not now, what am I supposed to do?”

“I say just rub one out here, no one will notice. It’ll match in with the soap Aelias using anyway.” House shrugs, the outside world would never know considering the car was covered in a thick layer of bubbles.

“Anyways, I’d dig it.”

I wrote the entire end of this in one go and Tumblr didn’t save it, so it’s extremely rushed I apologise 😭

i can't get no satisfaction // mick schumacher

summary: camping out in the library after hours, and too stressed to retain information, the student librarian has an idea about how take all of that stress away. and it doesn’t involve reference books.

pairing: college librarian!mick x student reader

warnings: sex in a library, semi-public sex, this is so fucking filthy, mick is a sweetheart but he has a dirty fucking mouth. mentions of masturbation and sex toys. why does this man bring out the feral in me? the terms ‘librarian’ and ‘sir’ used in a sexual context (but in a playful way…for the most part)

authors note: now tell me why I can add a song here but tumblr won’t let me add ‘shallow’ as a song link to my angsty top gun fic and I had to publish it without?

there was a reason she always picked that table. a reason she’d started coming to the library in tight tops and cutoff shorts.

it gave her the prime viewing across the old library, beyond the green tiffany lamps, at the perfectly coiffed head of of blonde hair that rested behind the check in desk.

mick fucking schumacher. he was the reason most girls came to the library, if she was to be honest.

however, there was no time for that today, astronomy textbooks strewn across her table as she poured over star charts. she didn’t realize how late it had gotten, her test review notes only half filled out and an exam creeping up on her.

her ballpoint pen trailed across the computer paper as she recorded the names of the main theories behind how the moon formed, mumbling to herself in an attempt to remember the facts better. she had one Bluetooth earbud in, playing jazz music softly to prevent her mind from wandering.

it was all hands on deck if she wanted a chance in hell of passing her elective course.

two hands clapped down on her shoulders. she started, yelping as her pen trailed a thick black line across her page before clattering to the floor. heart racing, she yanked her headphone out, head whirling to see who had interrupted her.

“oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.”

mick. he stood behind her, clad in tight black slacks and and untucked dress shirt, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just before his elbows.

and, oh god, were her nipples perking up underneath her halter top?

“no, no, I should have paid more attention.” her voice was shaking, cracking slightly. “did you need something?”

“we closed like, fifteen minutes ago.” mick said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I’m not getting paid overtime and I kind of wanted to go home.”

she sighed, massaging her forehead wrinkles with her fingertips. “yeah, okay. sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

her stomach sank to the floor. she felt guilty for keeping him, and a sense of crushing dread when she realized how little information she really retained.

and under the student librarians gaze, his stunning ocean eyes boring holes into her skull?

she’d be damned to admit it out loud, but she felt horny as hell. she was so stressed with exams, and so wired from trying to study that masturbation was the only way she could get herself to go to sleep: tire out the body, and the mind will follow.

but her fingers didn’t cut it any more, nor did the tiny vibrator her roommate made her buy on a whiteclaw-fuelled trip to the local spencer’s.

“okay, just give me a second and I can help you put all of these away. I feel bad for keeping you now.”

mick helped her gather her things and tidy the table, offering her a metal shelving cart to load full of all the textbooks she didn’t need. they moved in an awkward silence as the blond reshelved the books and she pushed the cart.

“so, astronomy?” mick clicked his tongue, shelving a book on star charts.

“yeah, it’s a shitty fucking elective, that’s what it is. it’s causing me more stress than my actual subject major.” she snorted, sliding a few other books into the shelf. “I’m pre-law, but I’m not even sure if law school is what I want any more. right now, I just want to shut down, if I’m being honest.”

she stepped back from the shelf, moving to go around the cart when mick spoke up.

“so is that why you barely looked in my direction today?”

she stopped cold, her foot thudding against the side of the heavy metal cart. she bit back a curse, stumbling as mick caught her, pressing her body up against the shelving cart.

“I know you have a crush on me. I think it’s cute. you’re cute.” his voice was husky, and there was barely any space between them. her heart was beating faster, heat rising in her cheeks. “there’s a reason I always work at that desk too. seeing you makes my day.”

he was so close to her that she could have kissed him if he wanted to. all she would have had to do was press up on her toes to match his height, and gently touch her lips to his.

“don’t hide from me, pretty girl.” mick whispered. “I know how pent up you are, I can see it in the way your body responded as I ran my hands over your back. I want to help you. let me help.”

she swallowed, thoughts racing as she gripped his arms, looking up into his cobalt eyes.

she needed this.

needed him.

“yes.”

when mick kissed her, it felt like all the air was leaving her lungs. he was intoxicating, the heady scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. she moaned into the kiss, aching and longing for human contact.

“my sweet girl.” he mumbled, trialing kisses up her jaw and over behind her ear, hands coming up to knead her sensitive breasts as she leaned back against the shelving cart. “when was the last time someone treated you right?”

“s-six months.” she stuttered, panting heavily.

it was pathetic, mick had barely even done anything and she was seconds away from whining for him.

he clicked his tongue, gripping her waist and pushing her back further against the cart. a few reference books fell to the floor, but neither student noticed. his breath was warm against her ear, the tip of his nose brushing her cartilage and making her shiver.

“that’s just won’t do. whenever you came in here, I bet you were thinking about sitting under my desk and using your cute little mouth the keep my cock warm.”

noticing how her body tensed up, the boy changed his tune. “or maybe you’re not into that. maybe you just wanted me to whisk you away to the rare book room and press you up against the bookshelf, have my way with you. our dirty little secret”

ah, yes. that was the reaction he was looking for, her thighs clenching at the thought as he slotted his knee on between her legs.

“that’s my girl.” mick cooed as she grinded against his thigh. “you just need my cock to fill you up, don’t you? those fingers of yours just aren’t the same, are they?”

she opened her mouth to respond, forehead resting against his, when she leaned back too far, the cart tumbling out from behind her.

mick caught her by the waist, smoothly spinning around and returning her to her feet, ignoring the toppled cart. nose to nose, the absurdity of the situation dawned on her.

and she laughed.

and he laughed with her.

that was what she needed from a man. someone who could laugh with her, even during their most intimate of moments, someone who let all the best parts of his non-bedroom personality shine through while also knowing exactly what she needed him to say to get her off.

a gentleman.

and that’s what mick schumacher was.

he carried her bridal style back to the long mahogany table, placing her down gently and sweetly before giving her a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips.

“so, pretty girl, the ball is in your court now.” mick began, taking her warm hands in his cold ones. “whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.”

“I mean, I’ve heard the rare book room is super sexy. the smell of old books is like an aphrodisiac for me.” she said in a sing-song voice, thinking about his teasing from earlier. “then again, so are the vaulted ceilings in here.”

“I bet I could make you come so hard for me that you can see those stars on the ceiling fresco with your eyes closed.”

“wanna bet, pretty boy?” she was confident in her decision, but there was still nervousness behind her eyes.

she’d felt the way his dick pressed up against the seams of the zipper on his slacks. taking it was going to hurt.

he kissed her nose softly, fingers reassuringly rubbing circles on her skin. “I’ve got you, princess. you just need to relax and let me fuck all of that stress out of your pretty little head.”

she kissed him again, one hand on either side of his neck as she tried to press her body up against his, body flushed with need.

he gently turned her around, guiding her body so that she was bent over the table, the wood cool against her body.

mick playfully smacked her ass over her denim shorts.“such a pretty girl for your librarian, aren’t you?”

instead of the expected response, mick was delighted to get a laugh out of her. her giggles made him high, heat rising on his skin.

“was that supposed to be sexy?” she giggled, one hand reaching behind her to cradle his, thumb passing over his knuckles.

“maybe.” mick chirped. “baby, you’ve gotta let me have my other hand so I can get your shorts off.” she let go of his hand, allowing his smooth fingers to undo the button and gently draw the denim down her legs. “and for the record, I think that librarian is a damn sexy title.”

“but it’s not really a title.” she laughed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her body, massaging the flesh of her ass before tugging her cotton panties to the side.

he smacked her ass again, cock perking up at the tiny moan she let out. “it can be whatever I damn well want it to be, princess.” his voice was playful, and it made her wet to no end.

she needed this adorable idiot to fuck her.

now.

there was little warning as he slipped two fingers into her, the cold of the rings on his fingers making her squeal as he started to flex his digits.

his fingers were so fucking long. they felt so much better than her own fingers did, that was for sure.

“that’s my pretty girl, taking my fingers like a goddamn champion. you’re fucking dripping, princess.” mick cooed, moaning at the sight of her arousal running down his wrist, the sound his fingers made as he scissored them inside of her. “atta girl, so good for your librarian, aren’t you?”

“yes.” she panted, bucking her hips against his fingers with a cry, reaching back to grab his free hand with the hand that wasn’t holding her steady on the desk. “oh, fuck, sir.”

god, she needed this. and for a nerdy guy, he sure fucking knew how to use his fingers.

she felt his hand come down on her ass again. “what did you call me?” his voice was light, with the hint of a smile behind it. “I want you to say it again, princess.”

“mhm, yes sir, please, I need more.” she exaggerated the moan, a playful smile on her face as she played right into micks hands.

she liked this banter they had going, this carefree way of looking at something most people took so seriously. no, this was an experience that felt uniquely her whereas other guys she had been with just did what they always did, not caring about what she needed to get off.

but with mick, yes, that dominant demeanour was still there, but in a gentle ‘let me take care of you’ way.

and that was sexy as fuck.

she whined as mick withdrew his fingers, tapping her side with two of his fingers. “turn around, pretty girl. I don’t like not being able to see your stunning face.”

while her thighs tingled, her chest bloomed with affection and love at the thought that mick thought she was pretty.

and it was true. the library was dim, the warm lighting from the tiffany lamps framing the flyaways from her hair and the pink in her cheeks. the cupids bow of her lips, and that gorgeous fucking smile.

he was so down bad for her, it made his cock ache.

she perched on the edge of the desk, wincing and attempting to hide her embarassment at the wet patch she was leaving on the old table, the unshaven landscape of her thighs (and between her legs).

goosebumps rose on her arms as she watched mick lick her juices off her fingers, moaning at the taste like it was his favourite thing in the world. sensing the goosebumps, he ran his hands up her arms to warm her up.

“you decide how far we go tonight, love. how many orgasms do you want?”

oh fuck.

mick laughed sweetly, seeing the overwhelmed look on her face. he kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “how about we start with one and see you feel from there.”

“yeah. I’d like that.” she answered shyly, feeling the cold creep in.

the old library was drafty, yet kept to a very specific temperature. she expected to be overheating from how hot this encounter was, but alas, the air conditioning system just had to go and ruin it

“here.” mick said softly, undoing his shirt to expose the silver chain that rested below his sternum, a pendant with an orthodox saint carved into it.

he undid the shirt slowly, allowing her ample time to rake her prying eyes over every perfectly sculpted part of his body, right down to the tent in his pants.

sliding the shirt fully off, he used both hands to drape the soft fabric over her body. she swooned at the motion, letting him flip the collar up against her neck.

“don’t want you catching a cold now, do we, sweet girl?” he said sheepishly, his face flushed pink and a sheen of sweat on his abs as he cupped her face, leaning in to kiss her softly.

“mick.” she whined. “I need you now. I’m aching for my librarian to make me feel good.”

“I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you.” he hummed, undoing the button on his slacks. he pushed down his boxers, erect cock springing to life.

“holy fuck.” she hummed.

his dick was impressive. all seven thick inches of it, resting against her thigh when she opened her legs and pulled him closer. she wasn’t even sure if it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but if it was, micks cock was the very definition of the word.

“so wet for me. I’ll slide right on home.” mick said, gripping his cock in one hand and running it all along her slicked up opening. now she knew her goosebumps weren’t from the cold, but from the anticipation of what was to come next.

“please, I need your cock.” she whined.

“whatever my girl wants, she gets. you just relax and let your librarian fuck all those little worries away.”

he slid in slowly, letting her adjust to take him inch by inch. the stretch burned slightly, and she found herself opening her legs wider with every inch. she had a white-knuckled grip on the table, her breaths coming out in a mixture of strangled moans and pants.

when he finally slid fully in, his heavy balls resting against her ass, she opened her eyes and changed a look down at where they connected, a moan leaving her mouth.

“that’s just what you needed, isn’t it love? a fat cock to fill you up and make you feel good.”

it was a question he didn’t expect an answer from as he started to thrust in and out of her, hands gripping her thighs to pull her in.

“oh, god!” she whined throwing her head back, breasts bouncing under her top as mick slammed into her. “feels so good, mick.”

“that’s my girl.” his voice was low and husky, but also soothing. his hands on her body was a grounding presence.

her fingernails scraped down his chest, leaving pink marks in their wake as she moaned, babbling incoherently about how good mick was making her feel.

it was heavenly. he overwhelmed every one of her senses. it was an out of body experience, if she was being honest. something out of her wildest dreams.

mick kissed her again, groaning into her mouth as he pistoned his cock in and out of her. she was practically dripping everywhere, but had no time or energy to worry about the mess she was making.

all she could think about was how good she felt with mick inside of her.

“just breathe, darling. you’re doing so fucking good for me.”

he shifted her position on the desk, maneuvering one of her legs over his shoulder. she yelped in pleasure, nails sinking into his shoulders as she screamed a curse.

“fuck, that feels so good!”

the new angle was dizzying, his length brushing up against her spongy walls with every thrust. her eyes rolled back and her vision went blurry from pleasure as she meweled under his touch.

“that’s it, pretty girl. come for me. come for your librarian.”

“oh, fuck, mick, I-“ her words tapered off into a hearty moan, micks shirt lying in a puddle behind her as she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her head in his chest as she came with a cry of his name, tears leaking from her eyes. “mick.”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” mick cooed, kissing her forehead as he slowed his thrusts, gently working her through her orgasm. “there we go, you’re safe here. just breathe with me, can you do that, princess?”

she nodded, out of breath as mick gently eased her achy leg off his shoulder and back down to the table. he slid out of her, and the empty feeling made her whine. he gently shushed her, covering her face in kisses.

“mick, you never finished.” she pouted

“don’t worry about it, princess. this was about you. all that mattered to me was that you got your earth shattering orgasm.”

she rolled her eyes, reaching for his still-hard cock. “let me do something nice for you, dumbass.”

and who was mick to complain when she was doing such a good fucking job stroking his cock? her hands were smooth and soft, and the angelic way that she looked up at him, that sweet smile on her swollen lips while her hands worked him to the edge?

within minutes he was bellowing, spurting thick measures of come over her hands and down her arm, his entire body shaking.

“Jesus Christ.” he muttered. “you’re good at that.”

“when you hate giving blowjobs, you learn how to give a damn good handjob.” she smiled softly, unsure what to do with her sticky hands.

mick scooped her up gently, carrying her away from the desk and down the long hall to the staff bathroom. “come on, love. let’s get you cleaned up.”

after they were somewhat presentable (because, after all, there’s little you can do about the flushed skin and sex hair when you’re still in a public library), they gathered the last of their belongings and started to shut the library down for the day.

“what about the shelving cart?” she asked shyly, gesturing to the cart they had knocked over.

mick laughed. “I don’t work tomorrow, so it’s someone else’s problem.”

she watched with a soft smile as mick turned all the lights in the old building off, before he linked his arm with hers and they began the walk out of the parking lot.

“I hate to sound presumptuous,” mick began “but you’ve been here all day and I haven’t seen you leave to get food or anything. you must be starving. there’s an all night diner about two blocks from here, and I’d like to treat you to dinner.”

she smiled, kissing his cheek. “I’d love that, mick. thank you.”

and they both knew that this was going to be the start of something wonderful.

as soon as exams were over, of course.

the rest of the student body’s female population was not going to be happy when they showed up at the library and found that y/n y/l/n had finally captured their librarian’s heart.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @twinkodium @thatsdemko @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck

Please Look Back

Jannik Sinner x Reader An accompaniment piece to a previous break up blurb, the same, but in Jannik's POV.

---

He told himself it was the right decision.

It had to be. He needed to give everything to this—this version of his life where everything mattered, where every match had weight, where every margin could mean the difference between winning and fading. He had plans. Goals. A career on the rise, to maintain, and not a second to spare.

He loved you, he had for months. That wasn’t the problem.

It was that he loved you too much to do it halfway. And lately, everything outside of tennis felt like it had to come second tier. His schedule, his focus, the way his mind wandered in the middle of matches or practice to whether you’d landed your flight or gotten out that game or had a bad day that you'd tell him about later. He’d scroll through your texts before bed, smile at them before your hour-long calls. He’d wake up thinking about you, and he couldn’t afford to start his days already distracted. And you didn’t deserve to be deemed a distraction.

He decided before he even knew it, and he never truly wanted it to happen the way it did—to have the comfort of loving you feel like a leaden weight beginning to be too much to bear. But he couldn’t keep burying it. It wasn’t fair to you. 

He didn’t voice his uncertainties in the month that they had come up, didn’t discuss the dilemma with you. Selfishly, he knew you could convince him to stay without much effort at all, so, silently, he convinced himself he had to let you go.

Then he ended it—and you couldn't have seen it coming.

He sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped, and forced the words out with a steadiness he didn’t feel.

"I can’t do both right now. You and tennis. I need to give everything to this." It was a wonder his voice didn’t crack. It felt like someone else entirely was speaking through him.

He almost wanted you to fight him on it—he held his breath for it. For you to yell, cry, anything. But you just nodded. Even smiled. Told him you understood.

That was the part that gutted him. The grace.

You left his room like something hadn’t just broken for good between the two of you, and so he thought maybe nothing had—maybe not for you. 

He just sat there, staring at the door long after it clicked shut.

For weeks afterward, he kept waiting for it to feel easier. But the pain never let up.

He trained harder than ever. Played with a new kind of desperation, letting the training of the off-season take up all of his conscious space in his mind. Slept longer because all his waking hours seemed to be filled with missing you. The quiet in his room felt wrong. Your absence echoed in the smallest details—two toothbrushes still by the sink, the way he reached for his phone before bed, forgetting there was no longer someone on the other side waiting to laugh and drift off with him.

His phone lit up with notifications that weren’t from you. His victories felt smaller without your hand to squeeze after the last point. He scrolled through pictures he hadn’t deleted yet and told himself it was for the best. That he’d done what needed to be done.

Still, the ache didn’t dull. It just settled deeper.

And it threatened to rip out of him at Melbourne.

He spotted you from across the walkway to the warm-up courts. Even before your face came to view, he could read it was you from the way you walked. The way you carried your bag. The way the air stilled inside his chest, and the way your name sat just inside his lips.

You were walking toward him, with no clean way to avoid it. Not that he wanted to—not really—but he hesitated when he thought maybe you did. But you continued towards him, ever so casual.

And, god, you looked good. Strong. Steady. Like you hadn’t missed a step.

But when your eyes met, he saw a flicker. Just a flash of something soft and sad, the same thing he felt blooming low and constant in his chest.

You stopped in front of him and he offered a smile, though it felt foreign on his face.

"Hey." He started, afraid to hear your voice in response—he wasn’t sure he could take it, he clenched his fists in the material of his pockets.

With a polite, practiced smile, you replied easily. "Hi." 

And he did feel himself give out a bit when you spoke, he had to hold in a sharp exhale at the familiar sound. But he didn’t manage to hold back the way he stepped towards you after you spoke, though he opened his arms to cover up the action—hoping the offer of a casual embrace wasn’t going too far.

You accepted, and the hug was brief. Just enough to feel the shape of you again, to remind him how little time had done to lessen the pull.

He wanted to ask something, anything. About everything, maybe. But he didn’t know how to start the words, or if he had the right to at all. 

You continued instead. "How’s training going?"

"Good. Busy." Always thinking of you when I’m not, he nodded the thought away. "You?"

​​"Yeah, same here." And it sounded forced to Jannik, but he figured he couldn’t claim to know that anymore.

You looked composed. Confident. Even sounded cheerful. Like you’d rebuilt something in the months since. He didn’t want to knock that down or assume otherwise just to soothe the ache still sitting in his own chest.

Another pause. You glanced through him and behind him, and he resisted turning to follow your gaze and see what it was that held your attention—hoping it wasn’t going to pull you away from him too soon, no matter how stunted and awkward the reunion was. 

Then you sort of took a step back. "I should probably get back to it. First match tomorrow.”

The run-in was wrapping up too quickly for Jannik, but it seemed you’d decided it was over. He wasn’t about to keep you when you so clearly wanted to walk away, so he decided to let you go a second time and, impossibly, it felt just as hard. His response was brief and concise. "Yeah. I saw. Good draw."

And he hoped it didn’t come off rude and choppy, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. The truth of it was, he’d checked your line-up in the tournament before his own. The way he always used to.

You nodded pleasantly, and stepped to the side of him. "Good to see you, Jannik. Take care."

He breathed in deep as you walked past him to continue on, trying to soothe himself and catch the scent of you at the same time. And when he saw you were smiling at him as you passed his shoulder, he hesitated. He wanted to say, Wait. To ask how you really were. To tell you he missed you. That nothing had felt the same since you left.

But the words caught in his throat. What could he even say? That he’d made a mistake? That he would think about you every time he passed by the quiet corner in the player dining where you'd always steal five minutes the last year, when you had just met? That seeing you now only confirmed what he'd tried to deny? None of that would do. For so many reasons.

So he swallowed hard and nodded once more instead. "You too." 

And he had to wrench his head away from you to let you go.

Every step you took away from him felt like something was falling apart all over again. He turned back to look at you, hoping that maybe you would too. So he could at least get another look at you. 

But he watched you walk away all the way until you disappeared from his sight, and you never once broke your stride. Never once turned back.

And how could he stop you—just because he was still hurting watching you leave?

He knew he was the one who asked you to go in the first place, that you’d gone in peace, and—though he’d been stuck in a hurting battle with himself ever since—he knew wanting more and being justified in asking for it were two very different things. And, really, he wasn’t entitled to either. Not anymore.

---

Okay fast turn over, but I was feeling inspired for it. Lowkey don't think I've even fully written from Jannik's POV and it was fun—especially when having something to reference. Actually proud of how it pairs side to side with the other, so if you want to flip back and forth between them to check it out, feel free... xx

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.

Hi love, how are you? Hope your doing good.

I have a request for you. Could you write something of Oscar x reader. That could be after his sprint win in Qatar and they have a very…agitated night? (You can write a smut or not as you prefer). The next day when they go to the paddock, the couple get weird looks from Lando and Charles (you can chance if you want I just thought of them too because they are such drama queens). When Oscar asks them what is wrong with them and they say that they heard everything from the night before since they were in the rooms on the sides of Oscar’s. And well, they would be very dramatic saying things likes “I thought you were a baby”, “a baby can’t make a baby”, “do you even know what sex is?” and mentioning how they were traumatised, and how loud they were. Other drivers that were passing by, maybe Lewis, heard and got just as shocked. After that Oscar started being teased by them all the time because of that incident.

I hope you like it, if don’t just ignore it. But thank you anyways <3

RARARARARARRA I LOVE THIS

We Heard You. (OP81)

Summary: One way to shock the drivers? Have sex with your girlfriend one room over.

Warnings: smut y’all, language, Lando and Charles being so scared its so funny, sexual conversations

Oscar and Y/n fell through the door, lips locking aggressively. He was adamant on stripping his girlfriend of her clothes quickly, his hands almost tearing off her pants accidentally when she involuntarily ground her hips against his.

She walked them further into the room, the couple falling onto the bed which caused a loud squeak. Their giggling ensued, loud and infectious as Oscar continued to gently remove the last of her clothes.

When her bra snapped open by Oscar’s familiarity with the material, he dazed upon her and said, “Perfect, pretty tits, baby.”

She moaned softly when he leaned up and took her nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the soft skin. He bit down, warranting a louder volume from his girlfriend that bounced around the walls of the room. Her hands tangled in his hair from her position on his lap, straddling him and beginning to slowly grind herself onto him. His jeans created a rough friction that teased spots of her core, initiating the same kind of groans that signaled how much she was enjoying herself.

“Fuck, Oscar.” She said when he grabbed her hips and pressed up against her.

He guided her movements, “Like that, baby? Get yourself off on my pants.”

She whimpered as he continued to play with her boobs, massaging one while he nipped and sucked on the other. Her head thrown back, Oscar flipped her over, stopping her impending orgasm.

He stared down at her, a mischievous grin on his face as his finger came down to rub her clit softly, “Think I’ll let you off that easy? You know how this works, love.”

Her pleading eyes and blubbering words had his pants tightening further, “Please, Oscar, please.”

He kissed down her stomach, meeting her eyes with his hungry ones, “Gonna have to be patient for me, pretty girl. Can you do that for me?”

Another whine emitted from her mouth when he kissed the bone of her hip, nodding begrudgingly in agreement of his request.

He let his hands trail down her legs, hiking them up to rest on his shoulders as he let his hot breath fan over the place where she needed him the most. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, even more so with the way she tugged harshly on his hair and the pleas for his attention.

He gave into her, like he always did, when he traced a line up her slit with his tongue. When he got to the top, he found her clit easily, like he always did, and sucked aggressively on it, the jolt of pleasure forcing a loud moan of his name out of Y/n’s mouth. He continued that specific ministration for a few minutes, collecting the wetness of her pussy and using it to tease her further.

“Oh, fuck, Osc!” She yelped when he let his tongue prod her entrance, lining its outside before slipping in.

His hand let go of his hold on her thigh, coming up to circle her clit whilst he continued to fuck her with his tongue. What really did her in was when he started moaning against her, letting the vibrations spur on the coil in her stomach.

She was persistent, riding his face eagerly while messing up the styled hair he had put together that morning. Y/n’s consistent whimpering signaled to Oscar that she was so incredibly close and if it wasn’t for his good mood after the sprint race win, he wouldn’t have let her finish. Nonetheless, he pushed harder, tongue going faster and finger using his saliva that had pooled around her clit to bring her over the edge.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, back arching as she yelled out his name, a moaning chant of the syllables.

He pulled back when she came down, his mouth glistening with the mixture of her cum and his spit. He smiled up at her as she mirrored the facial expression. When he came up to kiss her, his hands roaming her body, the body he was intoxicated by, she flipped them over again. He stared up at her, slightly confused by the dominance she was emitting as she got off him and slowly took off the last pieces of clothing he wore, his pants and boxers.

His dick sprung out, red and wet with pre-cum, when she said, “Let me take care of you, Osc. For the sprint race win today.”

She didn’t allow for argument, shutting him up when she closed her mouth over the tip and licked around. His head fell back with a loud groan, hands flying to pull her hair into a ponytail.

“Oh, yeah, baby, just like that.” He moaned as she pushed her head all the way down, his dick hitting the back of her throat as she gagged.

She continued to move up and down on him, changing the routine further in by continuously letting the tip hit her throat. It was when his hips moved off the bed that she looked up at him, silently asking if he wanted to take control. His frantic gaze on hers told her everything she needed to know and when her throat opened, he gripped her hair tighter.

He sat up, determined to catch his high, as he was relentless with his thrusts. His moans were the loudest they had ever been, Y/n remembering to tease him about it later when he wasn’t shoved down her throat. She was turned on immensely by the fact that, as he let his head fall down to his chest with his eyes squeezed shut and groans high pitched, she was the reason for his pleasure. The girl wanted to imprint the image in her brain for times when he wasn’t there to satisfy the urges she had.

“Fuck! Y/n! Yes, baby! Yes! Yes! Yes!” He yelled out, spilling into her as he opened his eyes immediately to watch her throat work to swallow everything he gave her. His ears rang and his vision went blurry under the sight, a picture so dirty he never wanted to forget it.

Y/n was still pursuant even after he looked spent, standing back up and sitting on him. He turned soft to hard again in seconds under the feeling of her. She pushed him back down to his prior laying down position, murmuring something about wanting him to relax.

He was completely with that idea when she sank down on him and his mind went haywire. All he could think about was the feeling of her wrapped around him, squeezing tightly. They were already overstimulated by the previous organisms that this one came quicker.

Her hips snapped to meet his when he joined in on the rhythm, fucking up into her greedily. He moaned out whatever came to his mind, however dangerous that might be.

“Mmm, yes, Y/n. Love the way you feel. This pussy’s mine, yeah?”

She nodded, eyes closed shut under his pulsating dick.

“Wanna hear you say it, love.” He said, hands gripping at whatever skin of hers he could find.

Her words were said between groans, proving hard to get out as her hands laid against his chest, “I’m yours, Osc. All yours.”

That was it for him, cum spilling into her aggressively as he let out a choked, prolonged moan. His own finish triggered her own, mimicking his sounds and volume with the way it felt.

She collapsed onto him, his hands coming to circle around her, as they breathed each other in.

She could hear Oscar’s smile when he cockily whispered, “Imagine what’ll happen when I win my first race.”

—

Oscar was incredibly confused as he lingered in the corner of the paddock’s cafe. Y/n had gone off to order them coffees, their sleeping schedules being shit after the night they had before. Being alone without her, while he hated it, was usually doable as he had many friends around the grounds. This time, he had tried to join in on a conversation with Lando and Charles, but they had moved away from him when he got close. His head tilted, confusion taking over which was something his girlfriend immediately noticed when she returned.

“What’s wrong?”

He looked down at her, sipping on the warm drink she had placed in his hands, “Lando and Charles won’t talk to me?”

Her eyebrows scrunched together, “Huh. Maybe try to talk to them again and ask what’s going on?”

She noticed the way he shuffled his feet, a telltale sign of his nerves. She smiled as she put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing softly, “Want me to come with you?”

A smile broke out onto his face as he nodded eagerly, “Yeah.”

So, the two wandered over. Thankfully, the two drivers were too into whatever they were talking about that they didn’t notice the couple’s approach. Weird looks are shot toward Oscar and Y/n by Charles and Lando, an uncomfortable silence encompassing the moment for reasons two of them didn’t know.

Oscar cleared his throat, “What’s wrong with you two?”

Charles looked down, cheeks tinting red as Lando spoke up, “Charles and I had the rooms on the other sides of yours.”

Y/n shook her head, “Okay, and?”

Charles met their eyes, “We heard everything you guys got up to last night. And I mean everything.”

Oscar’s mouth dropped open and Y/n’s grip on his hand tightened. The couple stood in shock, staring at the other drivers as they tried to regain their coherence.

“Everything?” Oscar tried. Surely, he thought, they didn’t hear everything.

Lando nodded, “Down to the fucking end when you made her tell you she was yours.”

Charles slapped his friend’s chest, scolding him for his bluntness.

Lando continued, however, looking at them in astonishment, “You’re supposed to be a baby! How do you even know what sex is?!”

His yelping had the guests of the paddock turning their heads, warranting a warning look from Oscar.

The boy shook his head, “Lando, you’re literally a year older than me and you’re not that pure either.”

Lando let out an exasperated sigh, “I’m still older! You’re a kid! Babies can’t make babies!”

Y/n choked on her coffee, “We aren’t trying to make babies, Bob.”

Charles chuckled, “Are you sure? You two didn’t use protection! Which, might I add, is a stupid move, dumbasses!”

Oscar groaned, moving to say something, but Lando interrupted him, “No, nuh uh, you’re not allowed to groan in front of me. I will never hear it the same.”

“Whatever,” Oscar started, “Y/n and I have been together for years. It’s safe to not use protection.”

Charles shook his head, mumbling to himself in French, “Still should.”

Fernando’s voice flooded the conversation, “Still should what?”

Oscar was about to shut down the entire interaction, but Lando was quick to spill it, “Y/n and Oscar were so fucking loud when they were having sex last night. And Charles and I had to endure it without saying anything because how the fuck do you interrupt two people having sex? But, anyways, we heard everything and learned that they don’t use protection! We are trying to teach them that protection, even if you’ve been together for a while, is a smart decision.”

Fernando’s eyes blew wide, staring at his grid kids. He definitely could’ve gone the rest of his life without having to hear about Oscar’s and Y/n’s sex life.

He let out an hesitant chuckle, “Well, they are right, kids. Protection is a good thing to use.”

Oscar just turned slowly to look at his girlfriend beside him, mouth agape at the events transpiring before them.

“I do not need your guy’s input on my sex life.” He gave, starting to smile at their antics.

Charles scoffed, “Clearly, you do! Promise me you’ll use protection next time.”

Y/n laughed loudly, shaking her head and downing the rest of her coffee, “Thank you for the advice.” She deadpanned, walking away from the group to find the rest of the girls, wanting to fill them in on what had gone down.

She left Oscar to the nosy wolves, not feeling bad about it one bit.

The last thing she heard before she was fully out of ear shot was Lando’s yelp, “I never needed to know what you sounded like when you got a blowjob, dumb bitch!”

okay I'll say it car sex with mark in one of those porsches of his :/

U ARE SO CONSISTENTLY BIG BRAINED!! stupid sexy man and his stupid sexy porsche...

afab fem reader (desc. as wearing a dress and panties, use of 'good girl'). do not use this as an example of safe driving!!

his hand grazing higher and higher up your thigh as you're in the passenger seat next to him, wearing that little black dress he loves

smug bastard, you see the smirk flicker across his face every time he inches closer to the heat between your thighs and your breath hitches in your chest

every time he gets closer, he pulls his hand away, going back to teasing, trailing touches up and down your thigh

and despite this teasing, i don't think he's fully expecting just how wet he's gotten you when his hand finally reaches your panties

his knuckles pressing against your clit through the damp patch of the fabric - his jaw clenching as you give a long, shaky exhale and nearly melt into the expensive car seat.

you don't notice the detour until the lights of the main road disappear, and you realise your surroundings have changed to a quiet, dark, country track

the very moment you realise that, mark's mouth is on you, large hand cupping the back of your head as the other undoes your seatbelt

(you vaguely realise that he's already undone his, the eager bastard)

your leg catches on the handbrake as he manoeuvres you into his lap, and you can't help but giggle, breaking the kiss as you do so, mark unable to stop his own chuckle as well

"you're such a tease," you tell him, leaning in to kiss him again, catching his bottom lip between your teeth and feeling warmth bloom in your abdomen at his answering groan

"is that a complaint?" he responds, tilting his head. "you seem to like it."

to prove his point, he settles his hands on your hips, pulling you down against the bulge in his pants as he rocks his own hips upwards into you

your head lolls backwards as you whine out someone suspiciously similar to "mark--", and he takes the opportunity to lean forward and attack your neck with bites and sucking kisses, soothing the red marks with his tongue afterwards

when you fumble with the fly of his trousers, he replaces your hands with his own to get them open, groaning again when you rock your hips against his his exposed underwear before you pull his cock out

it'll be a stretch - it is even when you've had preparation, when mark's taken you apart with three of his fingers spreading you out and a firm hand on your abdomen holding you down - but you need him, and you think you might go insane if you wait any longer

so you pull your panties to the side, dragging the swollen head of mark's cocks through your wet folds before you begin to sink onto him

he's rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs on your hipbones, pressing softer kisses to your neck and mumbling a gentle commentary of praise against the skin there

"always take me so well, what a good girl, so fucking tight, such a perfect cunt"

and when he bottoms out, your hips knocking against his one more, he pulls you in for another kiss before rolling his hips up into you to hear the way you moan

(and if one hand of his moves to press on your abdomen, hoping to feel the telltale bulge of his cock inside you, that's between him and G-d, he decides)

it's not so much you riding him as mark fucking up into you, holding you down on his cock to hit as deep as possible and hear you squeal his name against his lips

and when he cums inside you, he pulls your panties back into place, and smirks as you squirm the rest of the drive home, feeling him leaking out of you

TAKE ME

parings: mick schumacher x vettel!reader

request: hiya could u do a mick x vettel! reader (seb’s niece or smth) where they attend an autosport award show together w seb and he just couldn’t keep his eyes of her bc of the low back/high slit of the gorgeous dress he tries not to be touchy bc seb is there but succumbs to a quickie in the bathroom while seb is claiming his award really im in desperate need of some mick content 😫

authors note: oh my god my first smut with mick 🫣 idk what to put here 🤷‍♀️

warnings: (+18) smut, minors dni!

✩. . . masterlist !

Y/N knew it was a bad idea to wear the dress her secret boyfriend had picked out for her. It was a stunning gown with a high slit and a low back, revealing almost her entire back. She thought it was perfect for the occasion, a Formula 1 gala dinner with her favorite uncle, Sebastian Vettel.

But she hadn't anticipated how her boyfriend would react to her in the dress. Mick Schumacher and Y/N Vettel had been secretly dating for six months, keeping their relationship hidden from almost everyone. Well, everyone except for Toto Wolff, who had caught them kissing at a race. Mick had decided to ditch his role as Toto's apprentice that day and sneak off with Y/N for a quick make-out session in the tire warehouse. The memory still made her blush with embarrassment.

It had been a few weeks since they had seen each other, and now, at the Autosport Award show, Y/N found herself watching Mick's every move from across the room. Was it her imagination, or had Mick gained a few more muscles since they last met?

"Vettel!" Toto greeted the older man standing beside him, and Y/N felt her cheeks flush with a rosy hue. She tried to focus on the conversation, but her attention kept drifting back to Mick.

Seb glanced at her and then followed her gaze to where Mick was standing. He raised an eyebrow with a knowing smile, causing Y/N to turn even redder. She had a feeling her uncle was onto something, and it made her want to sink into the floor.

As the evening went on, Mick's eyes seemed to be constantly drawn to her. He was talking to people, engaging in conversations, but his gaze kept finding its way back to her. She tried her best to act natural, chatting with the people around her, but her heart raced every time she caught Mick looking at her.

Eventually, Mick excused himself from his conversation and made his way over to her. His smile was both charming and mischievous as he approached her.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and intimate. "You look absolutely stunning tonight."

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up again as she replied, "Thank you. You clean up pretty well too."

He chuckled softly, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Couldn't take my eyes off you, honestly. That dress is... wow."

She bit her lip, trying to suppress her own grin. "You like it?"

Mick leaned in a little closer, his lips almost brushing her ear. "I more than like it. But you're making it really hard for me to behave."

She felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, her heart skipping a beat. Mick had always been a charmer, but tonight, he was particularly irresistible.

"Behave?" she teased, her voice barely a whisper.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto hers. "Yeah, you know... not get touchy when your uncle's around."

Y/N laughed softly, the sound tinged with nervous excitement. "Right, right. We wouldn't want to give Seb a heart attack."

Mick grinned and took her hand, his thumb caressing the back of her palm. "But seriously, after this event, how about we go somewhere a little more private?"

Her heart raced at the suggestion, and she nodded, unable to hide her own playful smile. "I'd like that."

Seb's voice cut through the conversation, and Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, but she instantly felt her cheeks heat up under his gaze.

"Hey, Mick, Y/N," Seb greeted, his grin playful as he looked between them. "Am I interrupting something here?"

Mick's grip on her hand tightened slightly, but he managed to keep his composure. "Nah, just having a chat."

Seb raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just a chat, huh? Well, don't let me stop you. Carry on."

Y/N felt her embarrassment intensify under Seb's teasing, and she bit her lip, unable to meet his gaze. "Hi, Uncle Seb."

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with a knowing smile. "Having a good time?"

She nodded, still feeling a little flustered. "Yeah, it's been great."

Seb chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "Well, don't let me keep you from enjoying the party. I'll catch up with you two later."

As he walked away, Y/N let out a nervous breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Mick squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Don't worry, he's just messing with us," he said with a wink.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, her nerves easing a bit. "I know, but it's still embarrassing."

Mick leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "I think you look even more adorable when you're embarrassed."

Her cheeks flushed again, and she playfully swatted his arm. "Stop it, Mick."

He grinned, his fingers intertwining with hers. "You know I can't resist."

Just as Y/N was about to respond, a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses brushed past her, and before she knew it, she felt a cold splash against her dress. She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh no," she murmured, her gaze dropping to the champagne stain on her dress.

Mick's eyes followed her gaze, and he quickly took in the situation. "Hey, it's alright. Accidents happen."

Y/N felt a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, and she glanced around, trying to figure out what to do. "I need to clean this up before it sets."

Mick nodded, his expression understanding. "I'll come with you."

She gave him a grateful smile as they made their way towards the restroom. Once inside, Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, feeling a little defeated.

"Great, just what I needed," she muttered, dabbing at the stain with a paper towel.

Mick stepped closer, his fingers gently brushing hers as he took the paper towel from her hand. "Let me help."

As he carefully worked to clean the stain, Y/N's heart raced. She couldn't help but be struck by how considerate and caring Mick was, even in such a simple moment.

"Thank you," she said softly, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

He smiled, his eyes warm. "Anytime."

As the stain faded, Y/N realized how close they were standing. The air seemed to buzz with a newfound tension, and she found herself holding her breath.

"Mick," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He met her gaze, his eyes searching for something. Without a word, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a gentle kiss. It was slow and sweet, a promise of things to come.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N's heart was racing, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Mick grinned, his fingers tangling with hers.

"I think champagne stains might be my new favorite thing," he teased.

N laughed softly, the tension that had been building between them now palpable in the air. "Well, it's certainly one way to make an event memorable."

Mick's gaze was intense as he looked at her, and she felt her breath catch. "Do you trust me?"

Her heart skipped a beat, and she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes."

Mick's lips found hers once again, but this time the kiss was anything but gentle. It was fiery and urgent, a hunger that had been building between them finally unleashed. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor, their bodies pressed close.

As their kisses deepened, Mick's hands roamed over her body, igniting sparks of desire with every touch. He backed her towards the bathroom counter, his lips never leaving hers. With a swift movement, he lifted her up onto the counter, his hands gripping her waist possessively.

Y/N's head was spinning, her senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the feel of his hands on her skin. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. Mick's kisses trailed down her jawline, his breath hot against her skin, before he found the sensitive spot on her neck that made her gasp.

"Mick," she moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

He responded by pressing his body against hers, the friction between them igniting a fire deep within her. Mick's lips found hers once more, a demanding kiss that left them both breathless.

Desire pulsed between them, the urgency of their need pushing them to the edge. He pulled away just long enough to catch his breath, his eyes dark with want as he looked at her.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice husky.

Y/N nodded, her own desire mirroring his. "More than sure."

Their kisses reignited with a renewed intensity, their bodies pressed together in a dance of passion. Mick's hands roamed over her, his touch setting her skin on fire.

As their desire escalated, Y/N's fingers worked to undo the buttons of his shirt, her touch eager and hungry. Mick's own urgency mirrored hers as he kissed her fiercely, his fingers tracing the curves of her body with an intoxicating mix of tenderness and hunger.

Their mouths met in a series of heated kisses, each one leaving them both craving more. Mick's lips trailed down her neck, his breath hot against her skin, igniting a trail of fire wherever he touched. Y/N's fingers found their way to his hair, pulling him closer as a soft moan escaped her lips.

"Mick," she whispered, her voice a mixture of need and desire.

He looked at her with eyes darkened by the intensity of their passion, his own longing reflected in his gaze. Without a word, he lifted her off the counter, his lips claiming hers once more as he carried her towards the bathroom door.

As they stumbled out of the bathroom, caught up in the heat of the moment, they didn't notice the figure standing by the entrance. Toto Wolff's surprised expression quickly turned into an amused grin as he cleared his throat, effectively interrupting their heated embrace.

Mick froze mid-step, his eyes widening as he realized they had an audience. Y/N's face turned a shade of red that matched her dress as she buried her face in Mick's chest, her embarrassment palpable.

Toto chuckled, his tone teasing. "Well, I guess I won't be needing that bathroom anytime soon."

Mick cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged with a blush as he awkwardly shifted his weight. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about that, Toto."

Y/N peeked up at Toto from behind Mick, her voice muffled. "Hi, Toto."

Toto raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Having a good time, are we?"

Mick let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, you could say that."

Toto grinned, patting Mick on the shoulder. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. Don't let me interrupt."

As Toto walked away, Y/N let out a sigh of relief, her face still flushed. Mick chuckled, his arm around her shoulders as he pulled her closer.

"Well, that was... unexpected," Mick said, his lips brushing against her hair.

Y/N groaned, hiding her face in his chest. "I can't believe he caught us again."

Mick laughed, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "Hey, at least it's a memorable way to be caught."

She rolled her eyes playfully, her embarrassment fading as she looked at him. "You're impossible."

Mick grinned, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "And you're irresistible."

Their lips met in a sweet, tender kiss, the world around them fading as they focused on each other. In that moment, the outside world ceased to matter, and all that existed was the connection between them – a connection that had ignited in a bathroom and had grown into something much deeper and more meaningful.

And as they kissed, all thoughts of being caught or interrupted were replaced by the overwhelming feeling that they had found something truly special in each other's arms.

Masterlist

Two insane F1 and MotoGP fans with a multitude of unhinged thoughts who write together.

🐝- Resident Dom George expert of the blog. Unapologetic lover of Nando. Mentally dating Lewis Hamilton.

🐻- Resident Sub Fabio expert of the blog. Sebastian Vettel is my wife. Unapologetic about how some (most) of these drivers have strong sub energy.

Mainly writing for: Lewis Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, George Russell, Daniel Ricciardo, Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Nico Rosberg, Fabio Quartararo, sub Lando, occasionally Carlos Sainz - Will not write for Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez.

Warning: Every single thing we are going to write will be 18+ NSFW, but will be tagged. 

Trans!reader versions of the fics over at @trans-carboysandbikemen

Pls send us any thoughts u have- we love to hear them!

Masterlist: 

George Russell:

George's Rough Night (Driver!Reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Use me up (ft. Lewis Hamilton)

When the sun goes down pt.1

Fernando Alonso:

Feed My Ego

Childhood Bedroom (ask)

Constant Craving

Good Luck Charm (ask)

Phoning it In - (ftm!reader version here!)

Lewis Hamilton:

Use me up (ft. George Russell)

Consolation Prize (ask) // Part 2

Pecco Bagnaia:

Soft Worship (ask)

Fabio Quarteraro:

It's like a reward (AFAB GN!reader)

Lando Norris:

Sub Lando Thesis