formulanaughty

[formulanaughty]

hi! it's been more than a year since i posted, wow. i haven't watched an f1 race in god knows how long, but i just can't seem to keep away from tumblr. i'm back but not really.

i'm likely going to archive formulakay as i've started fresh over on @officialgr63. my new main is itsjustkay.

i'll also be leaving @formulanaughty up in perpetuity, but it won't be updated.

no pressure to follow along on any blog! just wanted to share for the mutuals that i love and miss dearly.

#just so y'all know - i realize a lot of people have followed during my hiatus #thanks!!

[formulanaughty]

it’s literally 9 am but i can’t stop thinking about hooking up with toto at a gp every year. like y’all have an arrangement. idk i just need mean!toto telling you to get out when you’re done. can you write something like that por favor? 🥺🤝

it’s now after 1pm here and this has been on my mind all morning.

he texts you sporadically throughout the season - from a number that’s changed three times since you started doing this - asking for nudes, wanting a video of you getting off, moaning his name. you know he’s married but that doesn’t stop you from fulfilling his requests, from changing the ringtone associated with his contact just in case. when he does call, you drop everything, and it’s a :15 second conversation: he tells you where he’ll be and when. it goes without saying that you’re expected to be there.

he pays for the hotel, he maybe sends a fancy gift or flowers. they never have your name on them and they’re only ever signed with his initials. you aren’t invited to the races but he doesn’t forbid you to go - he wouldn’t acknowledge you anyways if you were somehow able to make it down to his domain.

i’d love it cause it’s dirty. you are his actual, honest-to-god dirty secret. but yet — you still don’t really think you matter to him, not in the ways that means anything, anyways. you’re a hole (or two, or three) for him to use for all of four days out of the year. and then he’s onto the next track or back home to his wife, kids. like — what if he has others waiting for him at other tracks? does it matter? (not to me.)

and when he finally does grace you with his presence? it’s a hard, unapologetic, harsh kind of fucking that will probably leave your mind swimming for days. he’s careful but cautious — he is in control. he’d never get you to the point where you have to say the safe word he’d instructed you to use years before but damn if he come close. it’s brutal and he barely speaks, just takes and takes and takes and takes and-

afterwards, maybe he lights a cigar and opens the balcony door, the too-cold breeze making goosebumps breakout on your skin. you pull the blankets up over your chest and watch as he takes a deep inhale of the acrid smoke

“you can go,” he says, exhale of smoke escaping with his words, a wave of his hand dismissing you.

you glance around the room - the soft glow from the light on the end table, his closed laptop sitting quietly on the desk next to his neatly folded clothes from earlier in the evening, the discarded pillows from his side of the bed, his muscled back in the frame of the door. “oh. okay, sure. i’ll uh— i’ll go. thanks, i guess, for tonight.”

another wave of his hand, smoke trailing from the lit end of the cigar. you aren’t even worth a ‘goodbye’.

#because austin would likely be my hook up gp of choice 🤷🏻‍♀️ #reblog #tw

[formulanaughty]

Toto gifting you a diamond choker for your birthday and fucking you in nothing but that 👀👀 mans goes wild for displays of his wealth and of you basking in his wealth

mama 🥲

this is… this is everything.

he gifts it to you over dinner, watches reverently as as you unwrap the velvet box, grin bright when you open it and look at him in shock. the double-stacked rows of diamonds reflect the gentle light onto your skin and he doesn’t remember the last time he saw something so beautiful.

“toto, this is too much!”

“nonsense, it’s perfect. nothing is too much, not for you. let me put it on”

and so he does, fingertips delicate on your neck as he clasps it. it’s somehow perfectly fitted, a snug, constant reminder of his love and adoration. “how does it look?” you ask him, turning to face him.

and he’s just blown away. he always is, but now more so than ever cause he gets to play a small part in your beauty, and it sort of throws him off kilter. “incredible. you look breathtaking,” he says and has to sweep you into a sweet kiss before he swallows his own tongue trying to say all of the things that he wants to.

he watches you fuss with it through dinner, watching your fingers delicately caress the tiny heart pendant that hangs at the front, knowing you can likely feel the engraving of his initials. his his his his hi-

“you’re staring,” you whisper, amused, over dessert.

his eyes lift from your neck to your lips as you slide a spoonful of cheesecake between them. “would you like for me to stop?”

“no, please. don’t.”

—

later, back in the too-fancy hotel room he’s reserved for the weekend, his hands settle on your hips as he turns you both to face the mirror on the wall

“do you like it?”

your hands rise up to run along the neat rows of diamonds once again, eyes following his gaze as you move. “i love it. i love everything you get me. i love you.”

he stoops to kiss your temple, murmuring his love back. he moves to your jaw, to the hollow beneath your ear. you tilt to give him room and he growls, the sound barely audible low in his throat. his kisses press along your skin next to the necklace, carefully barely brushing the jewels with his lips.

“i need you, love,” he begs, presses in close like he can’t help it.

“you have me. take me.”

his fingers drift to the zipper of your dress and he unwraps you slowly, his own present on your day of birth. he watches the reflection of you - you, the unit of two, you - until you’re bare before him in nothing but his gift.

he somehow moves you to the bed and spreads you out before him, drinking you in like a man dying of thirst. you offer him a grin, a giggle, before pulling him down against you by his shirt collar. he doesn’t let you lead the kiss for long but he does let you take in the way he knows you need - the desperate, feverish way you move against him proves he isn’t the only one needing tonight.

but he forces himself to pull away; steps back to admire, to take in this image so he never forgets the way you look - the way you look like this - draped in the culminated efforts of his hard work, the proof that what he does is worth something.

your hands drift to the choker again and he can see the question in your eyes. he thinks it best to answer now, rather than later.

“$132 thousand, give or take. it’s custom made for you. no one else… no one has anything like it.”

you gasp and it’s a sound he wants to hear you make time and time again. one taste and he’s addicted to it, drunk with the idea that he can still shock you.

“i would’ve spent more, made it more elaborate… but i like this. it’s you.”

“it fits perfectly,” you comment quietly, your hands caressing your own skin. there’s something about it - about wearing such a vibrant flash of his wealth - that has your core catching fire.

he adjusts himself in his slacks, smirks.

“thank you,” you continue, hands moving further down until your knees fall apart, spread wide, and only then do his eyes stray from your neck. “thank you, toto.”

“anything for you,” he says, moving to his knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed, moving so close he can feel the heat radiating from your skin, igniting him. “anything.”

#happy wolff wednesday!! #rereading old stuff to reinspire me #reblog #tw

[formulanaughty]

Oh my gosh you’re back? I missed you SO so much! I’m so excited to see you on my dash again! I hope you’re doing wonderful! 🥹🫶

i am back!! (mostly, anyways.)

i seriously missed you guys too! i missed chatting and catching up with you all, and having a space to vent or bitch or squeal.

i also missed fic in general - i haven’t written anything in so long (which sucks for all of my wips), and i haven’t read much either. feel free to send some recs if you’ve got any!! i’m thinking i can work on some naughty/nice posts tomorrow, or maybe a drabble or two, we’ll see 🙈

#thank you love 💜 #other anon i added nando to my list!! #fn.answer

[formulanaughty]

#george #gr #reblog

[formulanaughty]

on my to do list for the naughty and nice series:

seb

charles

big mike

pierre

george

… anyone i’m missing?

#toto dan lewis and mick are already done! #(but i suppose i could add to them…) #let me know what you think! #naughty and nice #fn.txt

[formulanaughty]

Neon Cowboy | m.schumacher

summary: you get to know a handsome stranger in a dive bar....intimately...

pairing: mick schumacher + reader (f)

warnings: smut 18+ (minors DNI)

word count: 2.4k+

He had caught your eye as soon as you walked in. It was no surprise that he did; his blue eyes shone from across the bar, his smile was magnetic, the coloured lights dancing across him like something out of a dream. But even though he looked like a good, decent boy from the outside, you couldn't help but feel that there was something darker within him that lay beneath the surface, which only made you feel more drawn to him.

He had noticed you right away too. He was a regular around here, but he doesn't remember ever seeing a girl so beautiful walk into this joint. You stuck out like a sore thumb, looking all pretty and nice in your sundress; the polar opposite to the grimy and grungy dive bar he often frequented after a day working the ranch.

When he saw you sit at the bar by yourself, he knew that was his chance. He slipped away from his friends without even saying a word, and walked right up to you after you finished ordering your drink.

"Put it on my tab, Steve," Mick told the bartender with a friendly smile. You turned to face him and were met with those piercing blue eyes you saw earlier and immediately felt flushed. He had one elbow leaned against the bar, his body angled towards yours. He wore a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans held up with a belt that hugged his body entirely too well. You tried your best not to let him notice your wandering eyes, but it was no use.

"Now tell me," the blue-eyed stranger drawled. "What's a fine young lady such as yourself doing in a place like this on this fine evening?"

You turned to meet his gaze, trying hard not to let on how his voice made you feel. 

“Just passing through on my way to Austin. Been driving all day, needed a break,” you replied with a shrug, taking a sip on the drink that the bartender had put down for you, never once breaking eye contact with the handsome stranger. 

He studied you while you studied him, each of you sizing up the other, creating unmistakable sparks of electricity between the two of you. He sipped on his beer and you had to cross your legs to relieve some of the tension between your thighs at the way he tipped his thick neck back while still looking down at you. Yep, he had you exactly where he wanted you and you both knew it. In that moment, you were thankful for the way the moody, neon lights helped mask the flush of pink that now tinted your cheeks. 

“Do you play pool?” he asked, finally breaking the silence, cocking his head to one side. 

“Never have,” you said back, eyeing him up like a silent challenge. 

“Well, I happen to be an amazing teacher,” he boasted, holding out his hand which you gladly accepted with a chuckle, letting him lead you to one of the free tables. 

It played out like a cliche. Over the next hour or so, the handsome stranger was nothing but charm itself as he taught you to play. You learnt that he ran his family's ranch on the outskirts of town, which helped explain his sun kissed skin and rough hands, which couldn’t help lingering on your body whenever he stood behind you to correct your stance. At first, he was the perfect gentleman, maintaining a sensible distance and keeping up polite conversation, but as the night continued, so did the drinks, and the more people that entered the bar, the hotter it became, and the closer you had to stand together. 

Not that either of you minded. Even though the place was now packed, it felt like you were the only people here. You were lost in each other, the energy between you palpable. After a few rounds of drinks, he couldn’t not touch you. His hands felt like they were all over you, holding your hips when it was your turn to play, playing with your hair as he whispered in your ear, not so innocently wrapping around you as you danced to the music playing from the nearby jukebox. You were wrapped in him and you were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to take this to the next level. 

Thankfully, you didn’t need to wait long for that opportunity to come. It was the last round, with him in the lead, but you had the final shot. You were bent over at an angle, lining up your cue for the perfect shot, when you felt his warm hand trail softly on the inside of your thigh, which was exposed by your short hemline. You peered at him, buy he was standing next to you watching you play, feigning innocence, despite his hand creeping higher and higher, dangerously close to where you wanted him most. For the sake of the game, you tried your best to ignore his teasing, but when you fumble the shot, you both knew why. 

You stood and turned to him, his hand still under your dress. 

“Oh well,” you hummed, stepping closer to him and touching his toned arm. “Looks like you're the winner.”

He looked down at you and smirked, and you could have swooned. 

“I think I know exactly what I want for my prize,” he said in a much deeper voice than you remembered him having, but you knew what he meant. Without saying anything else, he took your hand and led you away from the pool tables and the crowds of people.

…

He bends you over the sink, hand nestled between your shoulder blades as he meets your eye in the mirror. The bathroom looks like it hasn't been cleaned in weeks, and you could hear the muted sounds of voices and music from just outside the bathroom door, but you didn’t care. You just need him. 

Words aren't necessary, not for this. Right now, he needs to be inside of you and you need to watch him fuck you until your legs buckled out from under you. His hands move downward, caressing your legs and ass as he moves your dress up and over your hips. You bite your lip in anticipation when he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you. He let out a low whistle, no doubt seeing the wetness that had been collecting at your entrance all night, even in the warm red glow of the neon sign above the mirror. 

“I’m just going to ask you this once, sweetheart; do you want this? Because once I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

You nod, words escaping you at the way his eyes burned into yours in the mirror just inches from your face. But he shook his head. 

“Need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes, yes I want this,” you choked out, almost on the verge of pouting. “Please.” 

Without missing a beat, his deft fingers make short work of the belt, button and zipper of his pants, freeing his cock just enough to be comfortable, but keeping the denim on his legs. You whined pathetically as he took his length in his hand, using the heavy head of it to grind into your clit, slapping it a few times which only made your legs shake. The full night of teasing has left the two of you with no need for further foreplay. You're convinced your juices are coating the inside of your thighs and he needs no further coaxing to reach full mast.

His eyes stay locked on your face as he eases into you, filling you inch by inch until he bottoms out with a breathy moan. It felt like you were made just for him, your body perfectly accommodates his dick like it was meant to be. Once fully seated inside your cunt, he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to his thickness. But you wanted, no, needed more, so you wiggled your ass back at him, trying desperately to relieve some tension. And that was all the confirmation he needed to truly begin. 

It was like he already knew exactly how you liked to be fucked. He was rough and fast, wildly animalistic. You revelled in it, relishing every forceful thrust, every slap of his balls against your clit, every nudge of his cock against your most sensitive spot inside you.

While you had certainly hoped, you never expected to end up like this- straining to take all of his cock in the bathroom of the bar, one of his hands on your hair while the other gripped your hip like there was no tomorrow. Your own hands were trying to keep yourself up by holding the sink in front of you, your eyes hypnotised by the image staring back in the mirror. 

It made you even wetter, having never seen yourself like this. Looking so fucked out and happy at the same time, lust clearly visible in my half-lidded eyes, lips all pink and puffy from the way you were biting them in hopes of quieting your moans, but you weren’t doing a very good job at being quiet at all. 

Even worse was the image of the man behind you, a neon cowboy that looked like he didn’t know mercy in the low light of the bathroom, his grip on you overwhelmingly tight, like he feared you were a dream that he’d wake up from at any second.

Suddenly, his eyes left your ass to meet yours in the mirror, and he opened the most predatory grin you’d ever seen.

“You like seeing me fuck you like the little slut you are, sweetheart?” The teasing of the names made your head swirl, but your lack of response wasn’t enjoyed by him. “Answer me.”

The loud slap he gave your ass echoed around the small bathroom, followed swiftly by your wanton moan at the sting that it left behind. “Fuck, yes I love it so much, so fucking much.”

He took your choked out moans as a hint to fuck harder, so he pulled you up closer by your hair so you were now upright his mouth right next to your ear.

“Oh sweetheart”, he growled so sinfully that your back arched. “This pussy is fuckin made for me. Open that pretty mouth for me.” You did as he said, expecting him to make you suck on his fingers, but instead he gripped your jaw to turn your head to the side and spat in your mouth before colliding his mouth with yours for a hot, wet kiss. 

He releases you, making you turn back to your reflection so you have no choice but watch him work your pussy. You positively preen under his gaze and you lean back against him, eyes still locked through the mirror as your skin grows flushed with arousal. His magnetic blue eyes regard you with such thirst it's impossible not to tremble in his hands. He catches the wave of pleasure in your features and moves to finish you off. You were a slave to the feeling at this point, a ragdoll in his arms. 

As his hips snap against you in deep thrusts, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, holding you up, kissing and breathing against your cheek. It was all too much; the way he was fucking you, the sinful reflection in the mirror, your whimpers and moans vibrating off the walls, the fact that you were doing it in public where you could get caught at any second, the fact that you didn’t even know his name. You felt dirty, but you loved every second of it. 

“I- fuck, I’m close,” you stuttered, your body beginning to tense up as your approached your high. In the reflection, you saw him smirk once more before biting his lip, fucking you with newfound intensity. You buckled, almost making him slip out of your cunt, but he manhandled you back up so you now had one leg lifted up onto the bathroom sink while the other kept balance on the ground, your cunt stretched so deliciously in this new position. With one hand, he started playing with your clit in fast, ruthless circles that made you see stars. 

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Let go for me, m’right behind you,” he groaned before leaning over you to bite your shoulder to keep his moans in. 

That combination of pain and blinding pleasure made you soar over the edge, your body a shaking, spasming mess as your orgasm flooded you. He felt your walks flutter and clench, milking him for all he was worth and suddenly, he was cumming with you. In the throes of your pleasure, you felt his warm release flood you, mixing with your own juices to drip down your thigh.

As your orgasm began to subside and you were brought back down to earth, you felt the stranger who just fucked you within an inch of your life touch you with a gentleness you hadn’t seen from him yet. He helped lower your leg, bring you to standing, straightening your dress and smoothing down your hair, all with newfound tenderness. You met his eyes in the mirror once more; he looked just as fucked out as you did, but now there was warmth and another emotion you couldn’t quite put a finger on. 

“Did you have fun?” he asked with a tired yet playful smile, and you laughed. 

“I did, couldn’t you tell?” you joked back, leaning your body back against him as he wrapped your arms around you. 

You would have expected this to be awkward. You didn’t know who he was and fucking a stranger was very out of character for you. While you had a nagging feeling that the ‘correct’ thing to do would be to act nonchalant and bid him farewell, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to do that and neither could he. 

“You know, my truck is parked out front. What say we head on out of here?” he asked softly. It wasn’t presumptuous, it wasn’t flirty; he just didn’t want to say goodbye to you just yet, plain and simple. 

You smiled and sighed, feeling relieved that this wasn’t the end. 

“I’d like that very much.” 

“Good. My name is Mick by the way.”

Mick. How did it suit him so perfectly? You told him your name, and he smiled, whispering it back to himself. 

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, y/n. Now come on, let's get out of his hell hole.”

#highly recommend!!!! #phew 🥵 #ms

[formulanaughty]

Miss FN!! You're back!!!!! Welcome back queen ❤️❤️

My dash hasn't been the same since your hiatus - and while I can't speak for the rest of us gremlins, I absolutely can say that no matter who you're writing about, I'll read it and love eveey second unless it's about lando

I'm so happy your back, I hope you're doing well (you were one of the first blogs I started following/interacting with when I got onto F1blr) and hopefully there'll before Miss FN brain worms in the future soon 💖

🦊

hi foxy sweetheart!!

i’ve missed being here - i’ve lurked, sure, but nothing beats interacting with everyone and getting whipped into a frenzy with y’all. anything major i’ve missed??

expect some brainworms!! it may or may not be f1 focused, but i’ll get some words going soon, i promise 😚

#I AM doing well!! #did a big life changing thing for myself back in september #and i had a lovely quiet summer! #i hope all you gremlins (lovingly) have been good as well!! #fn.answer

[formulanaughty]

miss naughty i miss ur posts and i hope you’re okay <33

hi baby <3 i’m good!

but idk if i can bring myself to write for f1 again. maybe the desire will come back with some more exposure (already got brainworms about DR and the song save a horse ride a cowboy by big & rich), but if it doesn’t - would you still want to read smut drabbles? even if it’s not fic/fandom-related? like literally just reader insert or unnamed/random stuff?

i miss writing. and i miss you guys. so maybe i’ll start posting bits and pieces here and there. but i understand if you’re only here for the f1 content! so no pressure to stay. but many thanks to everyone for sticking around - sending every one of you a massive smooch 💋

watch out for my potential return to main soon (when i work up the nerve 🫣)

#missed you guys ❤️ #don’t call it a comeback or whatever #but #hopefully this time I’ll stick around #fn.answer #i’m sorry this is from back in april #but it felt like the best way to post after so long 🙈

[formulanaughty]

You're leaving us?🥺

not leaving babe!! just wanted to let everyone know that this bit of a writing sabbatical may be a long term thing.

i’ll still be around lurking!!

#fn.answer

[formulanaughty]

What led you to give up on writing? You were one of the first blogs I followed when I came back to Tumblr and dove into the F1 fandom and you were prolific then around new year went radio silent. Don't feel obligated to answer why if you're not confortable doing so but I'm curious and would like to know 🙂💕

❤️🏎❤️🏎❤️🏎

i wouldn’t say i’ve given up on writing, i just lost the love i had for the subject matter. i haven’t watched a single race this entire season. and i guess the reality is, i’m 27, i’m engaged (surprise!), i have a full time job (and have been unhappy/looking for a new one for six months), and this blog just took a back burner to Real Life Things for a while. when i realized i wasn’t missing it, and the the lack of pressure to “perform” wasn’t there anymore, i was a little happier and more at ease in general.

i still write, let that be known. i just haven’t felt the desire to write for f1 in a while. maybe that will change, or maybe this blog will change, but i’ll still be lurking no matter what

#fn.answer

[formulanaughty]

I've just read your texts with Toto saga for the first time and holy helllll, you are an amazing writer.

Will there be any more on this series, please?

(Sorry if this has been asked before, I'm new to your page) ❤

hiya babe! thank you so very much!

unfortunately, i think that my time writing for toto and f1 in general has come to a close. maybe i’ll return one day and post/reblog something, but this chapter of my life sort of ended with a calm, satisfied sigh and that’s the best finish that i can give it.

i love that you all love this blog, and it will stay up forever (in case i ever want to return). wishing all my naughty babes the best ❤️

#fn.answer #love u guys 💜

[formulanaughty]

Do you happen to have a masterlist of fics please? Or a link to the text with Toto fics?

I've seen them recommended everywhere but I can't find them 😁

yep, all of my f1 writing can be found on @formulanaughty and TWT specifically can be found on ao3 here, but is locked to registered users only.

hope you enjoy!

#just so all you new folk know! #back to my hibernation hole now

[formulanaughty]

#reblog

[formulanaughty]

omg just wanted to say thank u so much for reblogging my stuff 🤗 i'm so glad u liked it hehe, have been reading u long before making my own blog and devouring ur lewis hamilton tag hehehe. hope ur having a lovely day xx

you’re so very welcome! i don’t read fic often but i was so glad to have stumbled upon yours! i’d love to keep up with your future fics too!

hope you have a lovely one as well!

#fingers crossed for a good + safe race day tomorrow ❤️ #fn.answer

[formulanaughty]

alright y’all, i’m in my toto feels. if you’ve got any ideas/headcanons/prompts you’d like to see, send them my way and i’ll try tackling them this weekend!

#partially need a distraction partially miss twt (which is more than a year old now!) #i’d love to write little drabbles for him or even shoot for something longer #thanks naughty babes 😚 #fn.txt

[formulanaughty]

just the two of us - lewis hamilton x reader

summary: after bahrain 22, you and lewis celebrate in the hotel room.

warnings: 18+, choking, dirty talk, unprotected sex, language, established relationship

feel free to leave thoughts/feelings/requests here x

Your throat is raw from screaming the whole last lap. Or maybe from the dry desert air, maybe the late hour. The roar of the cars still echos in your skull, a buzzing to the quiet of the hotel room. A headache threatens. It always happens to you, after, the combination of noise and adrenaline. The tingling excitement dulls the pain though, the spark of hope. The car can be fixed. The pace will improve. Lewis will win. You wriggle your toes under the covers, smiling to yourself, all tucked up in the big hotel bed. The nerves from the day have faded, replaced by the satisfying warmth of a podium finish.

The big windows look out over the city, blinking lights, sluggish cars, the moon high in a dark sky. The sound of running water from Lewis’ shower, the muted television flashing a late news broadcast, open suitcases spilling open on the floor. These race weekends never feel like real life. The rush, the luxury, the masses of people. It’s like a break in reality, a pause in time to experience a neon dream. This is familiar now, though, in an anonymous hotel room, waiting for Lewis to come to bed. Fatigue sits in your bones, the jet lag, the comfort of the bed, the drop in adrenaline. There’s a book in your carry on bag, somewhere, but that would mean emerging from the covers to find it, turning the light on. Save it for the flight home. Heavy eyes, heavy body.

You must doze, waiting for him, because it surprises you when there’s hands on your body, a rustle of the covers, dip of the mattress.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lewis is saying when you stir, his mouth on your hair, “Go back to sleep.”

You hum your resistance, opening your body to let him fit against you, half a yawn, head tucked under his chin. He smells like the hotel’s soap, skin warm from the shower, his leg between yours, pressing. It takes you a moment to realise, half asleep still, wriggling to tilt your face back so you can see him, that he’s come to bed naked. Soft smile, crinkly eyes as he smoothes hair off your forehead, shared breath.

“Happy?” You ask, hand on his ribs, feeling him breathe. Lewis nods, kisses the very tip of your nose. The twists of his hair are damp from the shower, gentle rustle on the pillows. You pet at his chains, warm from his body. His heartbeat against yours, steady.

“So proud of you,” you say, must have said it a thousand times before, but meaning it all the same.

“Always,” you continue, his hands flexing around your waist in warm appreciation, dropping his head to kiss you, slow, soft. Sometimes you feel like the pride must shine out of you, a blinding, golden light, spilling from you, overwhelming.

“So cosy,” Lewis mumbles into your mouth, a huffed laugh, rucking up your (his) t-shirt around your chest so he can touch more of you, gentle fingers. He’s right. Everything is warm and hazy and lovely. The familiarity of him in an unfamiliar place. The quiet sounds he makes as you feel him grow against your belly, unconscious rocks of his hips, the way he knows how good it is when he presses his thigh up between your legs. It must be the early hours of the morning now, the world asleep outside. He should be asleep too, recovering, but instead he’s kissing a lazy line down your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breast. The softness of his mouth, the scruff of his beard. His big hand on your hip, the sweep of his thumb over your tummy, back and forth, almost teasing. Wet sounds from his mouth on your breast, press of his tongue, the hot knead of his hand when he pulls off. Dark eyes in the dim light, watching, smiling. Helping you out of your underwear, legs wriggling under the duvet. You could take him in you now, maybe, if he went slow, and you want too, always in a rush to get there, hear him sigh, the way he says your name when he settles home, but Lewis’ hand is already there, solid and warm. Just presses for a long moment, holds you, before he slides his finger into you, crooks it just right, another, the heel of his palm pushing pressure on your clit.

“So pretty,” he says, voice thick, and you open your eyes enough to see him watching you, one hand tangled in your hair, angling your neck so he can see your face, his pupils blown wide, a lazy smile, “Can’t wait to be inside you.”

Your hips rock into his hand, the length of him against your thigh, hot and hard. A whisper of his name, half a breath. It’s almost suffocating, like this, hot under the duvet, pressed up against his body, but it’s good, feeling him, the strength of him, the way he handles you, too easy for him to pull your leg up over his hip, angle your body for him, the blunt press of him where you’re missing his withdrawn hand already.

“What do you want?” Lewis says, doesn’t push in, just holds himself there, a promise.

“Want you,” you say, your mouth against his, it almost hurts where you wait for him, an ache, a wanting that never goes away, “Want you.”

“Like this?” Lewis asks, kisses you, licks in, tight fingers around your thigh, betraying his appearance of calm control.

“Yeah,” pulling at him, his arms, feeling him laugh, all fond and lovely.

“So hot when you’re needy,” he’s saying, and then he’s pushing into you, thick and strong and big. It knocks the breath out of you, every time. The size of him, the way he holds you against him, like he wants to force your body to become part of his, one living thing, entwined together. The way he says fuck against your swollen mouth, and his voice breaks on the vowel. He always talks, during it, makes your body hot, your thoughts all blend together. Lewis is half on top of you, the press of him, holding your hip so he can fuck into you, his other hand holding the back of your head, his cheek pressed against yours.

“So good, you feel so good,” he’s saying, his voice low and heavy, stops talking to kiss you, look at you, kiss you again. You must look fucked out, the way you always end up gazing at him, mouth open, hanging onto every word.

“S’my favourite part,” Lewis rasps, and you almost laugh, because it can’t be true, that this is the best part of his weekend, but you love when the simplicity of him comes through, not pretending, doesn’t need to fake it, can just hold you down with his body and tell you you’re his favourite and mean it. He’s shaking, a little bit, exhaustion, probably, hitches your leg up around his waist higher, somehow slides deeper, makes you cry out.

“I know, I know, fuck, wanna stay like this forever,” he says, feels your body begin to tighten around him, the catch in your breath, knows your warning as well as his own.

“Wait, wait for me,” Lewis is saying, his rhythm quickening, becoming sloppier, the sound of your bodies, the way he’s panting, sweat shining on his skin. The city lights are making the dark lines of his tattoo’s stand out. You can’t wait, surely he must know that. Just looking at him, his red mouth, the muscle in his shoulders. His hand on your throat now, just enough pressure for your eyes to glaze, everything to narrow down to just his face on the pillow next to you, the sound of his voice.

“Lewis,” you’re saying, must be repeating it over and over, a whisper, almost a whimper.

“I’m gonna come,” he’s panting, a messy kiss, the press of his forehead to yours, tries to hold himself steady and keep a rhythm while you let go, fingers in his back, feeling the pull and release of his muscles, rasp coming, coming, coming into his mouth with his hand around your throat. Lewis groans a warning, eyes screwing closed as he comes, lips dragging on yours. The pulse of him in you, the warmth, the way he goes boneless, melts into you, eyes half closed, happy little sighs from his chest.

Sleep is pulling at you, lulled by Lewis’ tracing soft circles on your ribcage, still inside you, the heaviness of him along the line of your body. Lazy kisses on your jaw because he can.

“You sleeping?” He whispers, the rumble of his voice.

“Almost.”

Your hand around his wrist, gentle, holding him close, feeling him breathe. He must say I love you because you murmur it back, cringe with him when he pulls out, kisses you once more on the mouth. His leg slung over yours. The weight of him tethers you, draws you down into sleep. Lewis follows you into your dreams.

#another one!! #these are great op #reblog #lh #fn.ficrec #m/f