#sebmick

[river-ocean]

riccussell aaaaand sebmick

riccussell: doesn't make sense/compels me. i just feel like buttoned-up george and laid-back daniel (and also of course THEE trans george fic of all time...you know...the one that changed my life 💖)

sebmick: makes sense/doesn't compel me. i can understand it!!! i can!!! maybe it is my desire to put seb with lewis or mark or nico but...

[blorbocedes]

this is so midlife crisis 40 year old with 20 something boytoy... and he's the son of the guy who was 40 when YOU were his 20 something boytoy...

[maxz-b]

I heard it's rawe ceek or something so here's part 45/???

[xostarrynightt]

F1 x The Unsent Project

[rosyjuly]

mick asking his followers what they want to see on his youtube channel as if the people aren't demanding to see him and seb frot

[notthehardtyres]

(This is just a couple hundred words of otherwise contextless, postcoital sebmick... it is from MONTHS ago and it doesn't belong in anything else I'm working on, and I'm obsessing over them again thanks to ROC, so you can have it. <3)

.

“Sebi, oh my god,” Mick coughs, the sound of it wet and rattling and his voice even hoarser than usual. Sebastian has to remind himself—that’s because of him. Mick’s lips are pink and puffy and his hair sticks up at jagged angles and his bull neck and broad shoulders are glossy with sweat and it’s all because of Sebastian. Meanwhile, Mick is staring up at him with his eyes intent and plaintive, that look full of still-boyish determination. “Was it—was I—”

“Amazing, Mick. You were—you are amazing.” Feebly, Seb reaches to brush Mick’s cheek with shaking fingers. “What about you, do you need me to—”

Blushing, Mick shakes his head; a few locks of his hair sway for a moment afterwards. “I… no, I already…”

“You already came? Just from that?”

“From—against the sheets, and—and seeing you, tasting you, it was so…” He breaks eye contact, looks away. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, why are you sorry?” Seb chuckles, smoothing Mick’s hair back from his face. He thinks again, because of me. “That’s so hot. It makes me crazy. If I was physically capable of it, I think I’d already be hard again.”

Mick’s face softens, and he smiles, finally, even produces a gravelly little laugh. “Okay,” he acquiesces. Then he ducks his head, nuzzles at the base of Sebastian’s soft dick as his breath fans over Seb’s groin; he almost seems to sink, little by little, until his head is resting on the inside of Seb’s thigh as if on a luxurious pillow. He’s heavy; Seb has to turn partway onto his side so his hip joint isn’t stretched beyond its limit, and there’s some danger of his whole leg going numb, probably. But for now, it feels good.

“You aren’t falling asleep, Engel?” Seb smiles.

“No,” Mick sighs, the warm air flooding over Seb’s skin again. “It feels good, that’s all. Soft.” He doesn’t lift much, just enough that he can brush a lazy kiss over the tender skin just below the joint. It almost tickles.

Sebastian doesn’t say he’s still a bit self-conscious about his thighs, or his pecs, or the bit of belly fat he couldn’t get rid of even at Red Bull when he was Mick’s age. Soft. He’d thought, he wasn’t supposed to be soft.

“I like having you between my thighs, whatever you’re doing there,” he says instead, trailing his fingertips down the back of Mick’s skull.

Mick’s eyes half-close. “Whatever I’m doing, hm?”

“Well, maybe there are a few things I like best,” Seb grins. “But mostly I like that it’s you.”

[milflewis]

Q: At the driver parade you drove around with Sebastian, how did that happen?

MS: I didn’t want to drive around by myself […] so we borrowed a car for a second.

race of champions 2023 / unknown tumblr textpost / race of champions 2023 / transcript of mick’s interview at the silverstone gp 2022 / tweet from abu dhabi gp 2022 / headless john the baptist hitchhiking by c t salazar / transcript of seb after the miami gp 2022 / brazilian gp 2022 / road music by richard silken / race of champions 2019

[vettelsvee]

seb is coming out of his swiss cage next week, just to let you know i'll be annoying af with all the seb content i'll be posting and stuff <3

[beechersnope]

Summer of Cum Days 4/5/6: come inflation, facial, coming in public

seb/mick with a bonus dash of foot/pantyhose/pregnancy kink, 1118 words

***

Seb is so fucking weird about trains.

Mick secretly hates them. Finds them claustrophobic and slow. An impatient itch has wormed its way under his skin since they sat down in their car. Having Seb sitting across from him only makes it worse.

“Why are you wearing that?” he asks her once the novelty of watching the countryside fly by out the window finally wears off. It hasn’t taken long; Mick has been half-distracted by the peek of skin between the top two buttons of Seb's cream-colored blouse.

There’s nothing inherently obscene about the outfit as a whole—the pastoral scene depicted on Seb’s wool cardigan is almost childishly innocent, and the flowy skirt adorning her lower half extends several centimeters past her knees.

Seb shrugs. She leans back against the seat, the blouse drawing tighter over the swell of her breasts. “Paying homage to our shared cultural heritage, of course. You don’t like the design?” She reaches down to examine the milkmaid sewn over the pocket on her lefthand side.

“That’s not what I mean,” Mick replies, his mouth suddenly going very dry.

The blouse is almost see-through whenever she pulls it close against herself. It’s not overtly noticeable unless you know what to look for, but Seb has been picking and pulling at the fabric since the second they got on the train, as though trying to find exactly the right angle to reveal the dark shadow of her nipples. Seb almost always goes braless.

“No?” Seb replies, still playing innocent. “You’re right, it is a bit stuffy in here.” She reaches down, undoing the next two buttons on her blouse, letting the front hang open until all Mick can see is the slight curve of her small, flat tits every time she moves.

“Seb,” Mick pleads in a quiet tone.

If he’s being honest with himself, he’s been half-hard since the station, maybe even longer. Seb had kept a warm hand on the curve of his inner thigh on the car ride over, and Mick had done a good job of keeping himself under control then, with the driver right there in the front seat, but now he didn’t have that buffer anymore. It didn’t matter that they were on a public train and that theoretically, anyone could walk in on them. He can’t take it anymore.

Mick reaches down to palm at the swell of his erection through his jeans, whimpering at the pressure—too much, not enough.

Seb tsks. But she doesn’t tell him to stop. “Pull your cock out,” she says instead.

Mick almost swallows his tongue. “Right here?”

“No one can see you. Just me. And do you really want to show up in front of a bunch of cameras with a stiffy in your jeans? Come on, Mick, I’ll take care of you.”

Mick’s hands shake as he unhooks the button on his waistband. He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as his dick is freed from the restrictive confines of his jeans, but that relief is quickly outweighed by the nearly painful throb of his dick as even more blood rushes downward between his legs. He only gets like this with Seb, so hard it actually hurts.

“Pull your jeans down a little,” Seb says next. “I want to see your balls, too.”

Mick immediately obeys. He keeps the pubic hair above his cock trimmed short, knows Seb likes the way it looks, but he shaves his balls completely smooth, because he knows she likes that, too, the way they feel smooth and velvety against her tongue, inside her mouth. They’re already drawn up tight against his body, and it takes a bit of finagling to get his jeans down far enough to give Seb a full and unobstructed view of his package.

Seb gives a little hum of satisfaction once Mick’s cock and balls are fully in view, but it cuts short once he wraps a hand around his cock. “No,” she says, and that’s all it takes for him to let go. She doesn’t say anything else as she bends down to unlace one of her brown leather boots, and Mick just watches, silent and wide-eyed, waiting.

Seb has nude-colored pantyhose on underneath her skirt. She gives her toes a wiggle once she kicks off her boot, stretching the digits against the sheer fabric covering her feet for a second before extending her leg across the space between her seat and Mick’s. The car is small enough that she doesn’t have to fully straighten her knee to reach the apex of Mick’s thighs with the sole of her foot.

“My pussy’s so wet for you,” she tells him as she drags her toes up the length of his cock, pressing firmly with her foot and grinding his cock against his belly when she reaches the head. “Your cock’s so pretty; I love it. Love your little pink balls, how wet you get for me.”

Mick lets out an abortive whine as his cock spurts out what feels like an entire pint of precum, the slick liquid dripping down his shaft, soaking into the fabric of Seb’s pantyhose, easing the friction against his dick with every stroke. He can barely remember how to breathe.

“Wish I could ride you like this, let you fuck my ass and come inside,” Seb continues. “Want you to fill me up. You always come so hard, I bet if I plugged myself up after I’d look pregnant.”

Mick’s vision starts to blur.

“You want that?” Seb taunts as her foot strokes him even faster. “Want the journos taking photos of me big and round with just your come?”

That’s what does it, the thought of Seb’s taut stomach swollen because of him tipping Mick over the edge before he even realizes it’s happening. His whole body feels painfully tight, like the come is being dragged out of every part of him, and maybe it is—he’s shooting for what feels like entire minutes, in hot splashes against Seb’s foot, Mick’s black hoodie, his own face.

Mick shudders through it with Seb continuing to milk him from the base of his cock to the head with the flex of her foot, draining every last bit of come until it finally slows to a pathetic dribble that slides back down his shaft and soaks into his pubes. He tips his head back against the seat when it’s over and draws in a long, rattling breath.

“Still got an hour left before we get to the station,” Seb says casually as she flicks some of the come dripping off her toes back onto Mick’s already ruined hoodie. “Think you can get it up again?”

[ferrarihamilton]

dragons!!

WHEN I WRITE THIS ONE IT'S ALL OVER FOR YOU BITCHES. seb+mick, in a universe where instead of driving cars, they ride dragons.

The first dragon Mick rides is his dad’s.

He’s too young to remember it, but he’s seen enough photos of the moment to recreate the sensation in his head: his dad, firm and solid behind him; his baby cheeks bundled against the wind, small, gummy hands on the leather reins; He’d spent some time with Victoria afterwards too, when he was older, and he knows that she would have been gentle, careful.

He doesn’t remember the exact nuance of the moment, but he remembers enough that he knows he was meant to ride. That he’s wanted little else since.

The second dragon Mick rides is Sebastian’s.

+++++

After the announcement, Mick goes over to Switzerland. He lets himself through Sebastian’s gate quietly, but instead of winding up the long path to the house, he veers right, into the hangar.

Mercury raises her head when she hears him approach.

“Hello sweetheart,” he says to her, gently stroking her nose. She pushes into his touch for a moment, before settling back down into sleep. A little further down, he can see Chrysos and Lux curled around one another, and if he listens carefully, he can hear the faint rumbling of the others playing outside.

Mick didn't know this until he was older, but Sebastian's hangar is somewhat of a novelty in F1, so much that Architectural Digest did a profile on it a few years ago. Its vast structure feels more like a concert hall than anything else, with an opening out to the fields of the rest of the property. Inside, there's stone ledges and soft grass and hay, meticulously kept.

Not all the teams let you keep your dragon, and even when they do, some drivers choose not to. The drivers that do put them in huge enclosures, pay people millions of dollars to look after them.

Sebastian, who names and keeps all his dragons, takes care of them like his own. Mick's father had done the same, and Mick hadn't known any other way.

“She likes you,” Seb says, from behind him.

Mick doesn’t look up, continues stroking Mercury's nose, the fine, shimmery scales, softer than you think they’d be. Mick’s always had a soft spot for her: the second dragon he rode, steadied by Sebastian, then younger than Mick is now. Sebastian’s first dragon that he could call well and truly his, when he was at Toro Rosso. Mick might have been too young to remember that first time, but he was ten the second time.

He remembers it.

Why didn’t you tell me, he wants to ask. I understand telling the world like this, but me?

“I’ve made lunch," Seb says, half-turning towards the house. "Join me?"

As if it was ever a question. Mick follows him.

+++++

Of course, Mick doesn’t know at the time that Abu Dhabi will be the last race for him too.

He doesn’t even get to keep Aquilae afterwards. The goodbye hurts, but not as much as the knowledge that there will be another rider on her next season, another bond to override the one they had.

[6-epigraphs]

.

[youjustwaitsunshine]

photographers arent posting sebmick photos because every time they try to upload them their electronic devices overheat and die because machines are not equipped to process the amount of love

[mickriccenergy]

NEVER KILL YOURSELF.

2025 ROCK SEBMICK IS BACK.

[rosyjuly]

having a crazy day at work during RoC is a crime against my most fundamental rights

[notthehardtyres]

Ourselves and all things at your whim. Seb/Mick, 6.1k, general audiences. Based on (a prequel???? to) @rosyjuly's spoils of war.

“Your majesty…?” Mick’s brilliant blue eyes pierce the silence. He’s moved his bishop’s pawn up two spaces, into the square threatened by Sebastian’s pawn. Ironic, Sebastian thinks: the King’s Gambit. “For now, I think it’s best we stick to the terms of the agreement,” Sebastian replies. He tries to sound matter-of-fact, but Mick looks chastised regardless, his eyes flicking back down to the chess board. “Of course,” he says, uncharacteristically meek. Sebastian hovers a finger over his king’s pawn. Even now, he would be justified in locking Mick in the castle dungeons—Toto’s exact course of action might not be evident yet, but there’s no doubt as to his intentions, and Sebastian should respond in kind. Know I will not show you mercy, he should say. Know what awaits allies who betray me.

HERE ON AO3! <3

[milflewis]

seb/mick and lewis!

Mick waits until Sebastian is sitting down to say it, chair pushed in, fork in one hand, knife in the other. His hair is pinned back in two little clips shaped like race cars.

“I kissed Lewis.”

“Okay.”

Mick swallows, mouth dry. “Okay?”

Sebastian hums, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Ah, we have all been there.”

“We have?”

Sebastian nods, watching him, a smile growing across his face. Mick wants to hit him. “You’ve seen him, yes? And how he drives? Of course, we have.”

“Right, right.”

Mick takes a moment to look at him, and then at their plates. He picks up his fork to poke at the lasagna. The cheese breaks gooey and delicious under the prongs. He remembers Sebastian’s face in those pictures that were taken when he appeared in Monaco this year. He remembers Turkey and Sebastian’s going away dinner.

“This is vegan,” he says.

Sebastian shrugs, that annoying smile still on his mouth. “It is.”

“Since when do you cook vegan?”

Sebastian puts down his cutlery, placing his hand palm up on the table between them. Mick takes it, linking their fingers together. He rubs his thumb along the callouses on Seb’s.

“Since I saw you looking at Lewis like I do.”