REQUESTS CLOSED Formula 1 One Shots III

[38] - [Mick Schumacher]

A/N: for phoebe-durm

TAGLIST: 16allthelove07 MariPecs10 fraugoretzka RedBullRacingFan f1ismylifelol bluzklus _beyond_the_stars LandoNorris elliejones07 ferraritastic sxrryforthebadword justanf1fan _thaimilktea mickschumi jubmagcultthg laraF1lover lewavocado coffeeandblueberries sweetrose33 formulaliv

WORDCOUNT: 1556

WARNINGS: nsfw (soft, unprotected sex)

38. "Ride me, baby".

"I am so sore," Mick complained as he came out of the shower, a pair or sweats hanging low on his hips while he used the hotel towel to ruffle his blonde strands, which looked soft and fluffy after they have been washed and remained untouched by gel, wax or any kind of hair product. You chuckled at his whining, however you knew the aches in his muscles were totally worth it. He sat down on the edge of the bed and you moved towards him, which gladly made him envite you into his lap. "I guess you're sore... Right here," you muttered while pressing your fingertips onto the skin of his neck. "Yes," he hummed, sighing softly. "Did you like joining me to the testing days?" Mick asked, his bright eyes looking up at you while your other hand combed through his hair, sliding his hair back instead of leaving it to spike everywhere. "I loved it," you replied, even though you gave him his space and privacy during the on track moments, you had loved to see everything that included his world.

"Great, cause so did I," Mick smiled, his eyelids fluttering a little when your hands continued to massage his sore muscles. "Why don't you lay back?" you asked, your noses bumping against each other and it made you chuckle, Mick's smile widening as he pecked your lips before laying back on the duvet of the hotel bed, looking up at you nevertheless while you let your hands glide against his shoulders and down his biceps, the muscles there sore from holding the steering wheel of the car, which was of course still a lot different than the simulator work he had done before. Mick was trained and prepared well, however the real deal was always differing a little from the preparations. Mick let his head fall back as well, closing his eyes while folding his arms behind his head. Your palms pressed gently against his pectorals and the faint burn that he felt in response was almost pleasant. You massaged his chest before moving down to his abdomen, letting your hands wander over the defined pattern of muscles.