#driver x reader

[somejazzinthemorning]

playing cupid.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: Mentions of sex and some curse words. There are some inaccuracies, such as in this short story, Carlos has an apartment in Milan] Word Count: 9.7K

You're in this situationship with Carlos Sainz—no fuss, no drama, just sex. But then your dads become friends, and Sainz Sr., with a soft spot for you, decides to introduce you to his son, whom you've been... acquainted with for a while. To make things more interesting, he's on a mission to play Cupid, all while Carlos enjoys the thrill of keeping your little secret, playing along with his dad.

this was a request! always feel free to request and if i have some free time, I'll try to write something 🫶🏼

“Apparently, our dads met”, you say, rolling off Carlos's lap, still flushed and your breath ragged. The soft bed cushions your fall as you curl up beneath the deep blue blanket that usually adorns the foot of Carlos's bed, but this time is just part of the mess.

Carlos studies you with a faint frown, tousled hair spilling over his forehead. He looks incredibly handsome, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. If it weren’t for the late hour and your impending early morning, you would consider straddling him again. However, it’s nearly 2 a.m. and you need to be at the atelier by 9, so you just wish to sleep.

“Really?” There’s an undertone you don’t quite understand.

“What?”

"You just killed the mood.” He lays back on the bed and turns to face you. His hands seek out your shoulder, and his nimble fingers begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin, a clear indication that he’s not ready to let the night end just yet. “Mentioning my dad right after I cum inside you? Not exactly what I expect.”

“I just remembered it, and now I know you’ll get your hands off of me and let me sleep.”

“Oh, that’s not what I was expecting, as well.”

You pout, mocking him. “Poor you,” he rolls his eyes and falls dramatically against his pillow. “I’m just expecting a good night of sleep because some of us have work to do during the week and not just on weekends.” He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know that sometimes you work during the week.”

Carlos opens his mouth to retort, but he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. In an instant, he sits up, looming over you, and seizes both your wrists, pinning them against the headboard. With his other hand, he's ready to tug the blanket over your form.

"Don't you dare tickle me, Carlos Sainz. Or I swear to God—"

"What are you going to do?" Carlos interrupts, his mischievous grin returning. As you lock eyes with him, you realize there's very little you can do, and oddly enough, you're entirely fine with that. Except,

"Spit in your face."

His playful smirk remains as he leans in closer, his voice a sultry whisper. "Spit in my face, huh?” he taunts, his fingers inching closer to your sides. “Think I’m going to risk it.”

"Sainz,” you squirm under his touch, desperately trying to maintain your composure. But he’s already grinning, and his fingers are approaching your sides. “I'm warning you..."

And suddenly, it's too late. He pounces, his fingers dancing across your sides, and you burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, some of them louder than you expected them to be. Carlos knows all your ticklish spots, and he exploits them shamelessly. It’s been what…? Four months since you first slept together. By now he knows your body better than any guy ever did. And honestly, you’re not sure what to feel about that.

"Carlos, stop!" you manage to gasp between laughter, trying to wriggle free from his grip. It's a futile effort as he continues his relentless assault, determined to elicit every giggle and squeal he can from you.

Finally, he relents, his laughter joining yours as he releases your wrists. You pant for breath, your cheeks flushed from both the laughter and the earlier efforts. You take the opportunity to jump out of bed. “You’re the worst. I gotta pee.”

You disappear into the bathroom, to pee, clean yourself and try to comb your hair, and by the time you go back to the bedroom, you’re expecting him to be asleep. But you find him awake. His eyes shine brighter when you go through the door, and he watches you with a tender smile as you enter the bed and curl against him, fitting perfectly into his embrace.

The warmth of his body against you is comforting.

"I think I'll let you sleep now," he voices low in your ear, as he pulls over the comforter and covers you both.

"You better.”

Carlos's chest rises and falls rhythmically beneath your cheek as you nestle closer. You can hear the faint hum of his heartbeat, and it lulls you into a peaceful state. He smells like Bleu de Chanel and the lingering traces of your passion. With every breath, you inhale the essence of the man who has woven himself into the fabric of your life, in more ways than one.

Just as you're about to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, it hits you like lightning—the visit your mom mentioned, the whole reason you brought up his dad’s name.

You nudge Carlos gently, rousing him from his half-asleep state. "Just remembered something."

Carlos doesn’t even open his eyes. "Hmm?”

“My dad invited yours over,” you were not sure if you should be excited or nervous. Not for the visit itself, but for Carlos’ reaction to the idea of you meeting his dad.

After all, you had just been sleeping together, barely leaving your apartments, except for that one time he took you out to dinner, and that was probably because it was your birthday and perhaps Carlos would feel bad about just booty-calling you and ignoring the whole birthday thing.

“Well, that’s a nice way to introduce you to him.”

“What?”

Carlos just pressed you closer to him, like you weren’t practically glued together already. "It's okay, cariño. They’ll love you. Now sleep."

It all started at Milan Fashion Week when Carlos was representing Ferrari at an event. You were there, lurking in the shadows, taking in the magic of the fashion show. Your mentor had gotten you there, a favour you'll always be grateful for. There's a lot you can't remember about the event, about the whole night to be fair, but you remember the man awkwardly sitting in the front row. Fashion is not his thing, you thought. You kind of knew that. You kind of knew him.

He drives for Ferrari, he's handsome, he has a thick Spanish accent and hair I would pay to touch.

And that was more than enough to make you introduce yourself at the end of the show. From there, making out in a club took a little more than two hours. To his bed, just a little bit more than that.

You continued to see each other, booty-calling each other when you were feeling horny, bored, or just lonely. Your situationship was a good deal for both parties. No strings attached, which you enjoyed because you had little time and no patience to make any kind of effort to actually maintain a relationship. And Carlos, well... he was also busy as hell, so... all good. So you never went on dates, never needed to put on expectable amounts of makeup for over-the-top dresses. Except for your birthday, when he decided to take you out, and you had to make the effort. But that was your birthday.

Other than that, you would only leave your apartments to go get food at a 24-hour store or McDonald's. You remember that one time you wanted gelato and Carlos took you to his favourite place in Milan, but... other than that, it was just sex. Okay, just sex and marathons of Game of Thrones and House of The Dragon (that led to more sex) and some cooking too. You once taught him how to make your nana's lasagna and how a true Italian bruschetta is done. And a few days later, he cooked you his mom's carbonara—not a real carbonara, not at all. And, let’s be fair, he often brought you pizza from your favourite place in Milano and expensive bottles of wine.

But… “That’s a nice way to introduce you to him”?

You were not expecting that at all.

The idea lingered in your mind all night, and you woke up thinking about it too. You left his apartment while Carlos was still in the shower, just shouting goodbyes while you gathered your stuff and ran to the atelier. He would be out of town for a couple of weeks, away at some races, and you would have time to figure out how your parents met and when said visit was going to happen. All good.

Turns out you didn't have as much time as you thought.

That afternoon, your mom calls you, excitedly recounting their amazing trip to Canada and how much fun your dad had at the race. So, that was where they met. She also shares her plans about taking your brothers to Monza in a couple of months. You nod absentmindedly, your attention more focused on the magazine in front of you than on her words. It's often like this.

Your dad travels for work and actually works. He's a sports manager, deeply passionate about football and motorsports, especially Formula 1. Lately, he's been leaning more towards the latter, especially since he's contemplating retirement. On the other hand, your mom, an ex-model who married a well-off man, has chosen to focus on being a wife and a mother, a role she fulfils with dedication. So, when they’re back home, dad has work to do, contacts to keep and your mom has… well, more than enough time to tell you everything.

"And your dad and Sainz met at the golf course, you know?" your mom continues, her voice full of admiration. "A charming young man. He was golfing with his dad too. Your father had to tell them you refused to join him on the greens."

"In that, he's absolutely right."

"So, they kept talking. They even played together, I think. And he mentioned we were going to the race, and Sainz suggested he could call, and he'd arrange a garage tour. We met him at the paddock, but we ended up not getting the tour because there were already enough guests in there, but… Isn't he just amazing? And so incredibly handsome, piccina. So handsome."

You cringe inwardly at your mom's thirst for Carlos, unable to shake the image of her ogling your... friend. But you hum in response, unable to voice your discomfort because the next moment, she's raving about a dress she bought for you and the amazing designer she met in New York just before returning to Milan, and that topic steals all attention.

But just before she’s about to hang out, you remember why she called you in the first place.

“Mom, about the visit you mentioned? The dinner?” you interject and she chuckles; you can almost envision her rubbing her temples.

"Oh, silly me. I actually called you to discuss that," she sighs. "He's coming to visit us this weekend! You have to come home and meet him; he's really looking forward to getting to know you."

"Doesn't he race this weekend?"

"The young—Since when do you care about F1?"

"I don't. I just—” You quickly think of something, but you’re not quite sure if you want to tell your mother that you’ve been fucking Sainz. The younger one. Of course. “I saw something on Twitter."

"Oh, I see. Well,” she clicks her tongue. “It's his dad who's coming. Weren’t you listening? And his mom. We invited them both. Your dad wants to take him to the club and network a bit and you know… I’m always down for making friends and Reyes seems like a lovely woman. She wasn’t there, but I’ve heard about her around. Even her name is super elegant. Isn’t it?” Once again, you hum, frowning, thinking about the movie where you just found yourself in. “So, please, come home.”

“Noted. So, this weekend?”

“Yes. Do you need Dad to pick you up tomorrow after work?”

You move in your seat. “I’m just so busy with work right now, mom. The new collection and—” She cleans her throat and you just nod to the empty room. “Okay. Yes, please, tell Dad to pick me up.”

Of course, the second you hang up you text Carlos. He’s probably busy, it’s Thursday so he’s doing interviews or something, and, as you expected, he doesn’t reply to your text right away. Despite everything, he doesn’t take too long.

Not surprisingly, he’s very nonchalant about it all.

hot wheels guy: just tell them we know each other, no big deal hot wheels guy: and we’ll tell them more when i’m back

But, yeah… You can’t help but frown looking at the phone. He’s golfed with your dad, met your mom, met again with your dad and he’s not even feeling weird about it all?

you: hm? no? hot wheels guy: why not? you: you went golfing with my dad!!! hot wheels guy: and? hot wheels guy: how would i guess he was your dad? you: how many Y/LN do you think there are in milan? you: he told you he’s from milan!! there are not a lot of us in here hot wheels guy: do you have any idea of how many people i meet every weekend? you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: stop being a brat you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: i don’t see a problem in golfing with your dad hot wheels guy: is that supposed to be weird? you: YES !!!! hot wheels guy: stop being dramatic hot wheels guy: if they say anything, tell them you know me hot wheels guy: if they don’t, don’t you: they will hot wheels guy: so you know what to do

Friday’s dinner went exceptionally well, with conversations flowing effortlessly between food and wine, despite the inevitable sports-centric discussions that seemed to dominate the evening. Your brothers were beyond ecstatic to have Carlos Sr. as a guest in their home. They'd had their fair share of famous athletes sitting at the family table, but never had they been as excited as they were when Carlos Sr. entered the house. As a result, you found yourself somewhat on the sidelines, listening more than speaking throughout the meal.

And you were grateful for that.

The same didn’t happen on Saturday. Your dad took the morning to showcase some of your work and discuss your future prospects in the fashion industry with both Carlos and Reyes. In what you think was a gesture of gratefulness, Reyes displayed a lot of interest in your little atelier, located by the pool, in what used to be a shed for the gardener. So, you spent the morning around there, talking with them about fashion and business, and then joined them for lunch in one of your dad’s favourite restaurants.

Let's be fair, you have an extraordinary way with words and a charm that makes your mother proud. It was easy for you. By the time dinner came, you were already adored by the Sainzes. Without making an effort, you found yourself talking about art and travel, and letting Sainz Sr. explain to you the magic and the challenges of Dakar.

However, it isn’t until the next morning that you find yourself alone with him.

You both sat down for breakfast on the patio, and he’s now engrossed in reading the newspaper, while you’re drinking your cappuccino and doing your best to ignore the fact that the man sitting in front of you is, in essence, your… fuckbuddy’s dad.

There’s the usual “good morning” and the “hope you got some rest”, to which the guest always has some lovely comment to say about the bed, or the room, or the house in general. It’s an amazing guest house, you have to admit. And Sainz is no expectation. You exchange a couple of pleasantries and he’s back at reading the news, so you let your guard down.

Then, unexpectedly, Carlos Sr. turns his attention from the newspaper and directs it squarely at you. Grey eyebrows lifting at the same pace his eyes fill with a weird glint.

“I would love to introduce you to my son,” he says, and a faint frown tugs at your lips as words form in your throat, only to wither away unspoken. "I'm not implying anything," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, "just that I believe the two of you would get along well."

You respond hesitantly, "Oh, I know him."

"I know you know him," he laughs, and you realise that something might have gotten lost in translation because when he talks again he says, "But what I mean is that you should meet. I'll make sure to introduce you two next time we're all in town."

And well, you feel too embarrassed to correct him, so you just smile and mumble an “I can’t wait. Excuse me”, before getting up from the table and sprinting up to your room.

you: great news. your dad wants to introduce us you: what do i do?

He takes a couple of hours to text back.

hot wheels guy: why didn’t you tell him you know me already? you: i tried to!

The next time you’re all in town happens one week and a half from there, when Carlos is finally back in Italy after a few races and a couple of days in Madrid. And, because the universe is a pain in the ass, you’re swarmed with work to the point you’ve been falling asleep right after dinner, even before the time Carlos usually rings you up.

It’s a terrible schedule.

You’ve been waking up at 5 am to be by the seamstress at 7, to have some work ready to show at 9 am, between your mentor’s arrival at the atelier and the time he leaves for some meeting or brunch with models somewhere in Milan. Somehow, during that interval, he has time to break your work to pieces, destroying it (and destroying you in the process) with criticism. Critique leaves you on the verge of tears, and by the end of the day, you’re a mess—stressed, irritable and utterly exhausted. Not to mention the ever-present sexual frustration, with vivid dreams of a certain Spaniard leaving you hot and bothered in your sleep.

The perfect recipe for a restless night.

Apparently, Carlos got to Milan on Wednesday, because that night you woke up at midnight on your couch, a half-empty glass of wine by your side, your unfinished sketches scattered before you and three missed calls from Carlos, accompanied by a series of texts. Thursday, the same happened. The texts were nothing too dramatic, just variations of “u up?”, “cmon its 10 pm”, and “you can’t be asleep”.

On both days, in your half-sleep haze, you manage to reply as you shuffle your way to your bedroom something similar to “sory, talktomorrw”.

And then Friday arrives, and your calendar pings with the reminder that in one hour your dad will be picking you up for dinner. You’re sitting on your vanity and already dreading the day your dad decided to go to Montreal.

You’re not feeling it.

Firstly, you have to slather on a ton of make-up just to feel decent. Your dark circles are as pronounced as ever, you’re skin is pale and your acne is acting up, probably all due to the lack of sun, sleep, rest of any food that isn’t reheated pizza or store-bought noodles.

So, yes, the prospect of dinner and being introduced as Carlos’ whatever doesn’t exactly lift your spirits.

The anticipation gawns at you as you finish getting ready. You can’t shake the feeling of unease, a nagging doubt that you’re about to step into a situation that might be more than you signed up for. Carlos’ dad seems nice enough, and his mom absolutely adores you, but this is different, especially because his dad is expecting to introduce you and well… you’re way past that.

As you stare at your reflection, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't just about you. Your brothers are looking forward to meeting Carlos, and your dad seems genuinely excited about his friendship with his dad. So, you summon a smile, albeit a forced one, and decide to make the most of this evening, even if you're not entirely sure what to expect.

Yeah. Scratch that. The dinner is about you.

As you approach the restaurant, a different sense of anticipation washes over you. It feels like a scene from a movie where you're about to meet an arranged husband. The Sainz family stands by the door, engaged in lively conversation. Reyes waves at you when she sees you making your way to them.

Your eyes naturally gravitate toward Carlos. Firstly, because you kind of miss him. It’s been a while since you last saw him and there’s no point in looking for comfort somewhere else, so you are, let's say… slightly needy. And secondly, because he’s clad in a baby blue button-up and pristine white pants. A vision. You're only human, after all, with eyes and perhaps a few too many hormones.

In summary: You’re fucked. Dinner will be fun.

From your back and close to your ear, a whisper arises. “Be nice,” your mom says. As you turn to her, her lips are curling into a wide smile. “Carlos! Reyes! Such a delight to see you both again. And, Carlos,” she turns to the younger one, “it’s an absolute pleasure to finally see you in a more personal environment.”

You take a deep breath.

Your brothers, bursting with energy, practically race each other to get to Carlos, almost taking you down in the process. He skillfully engages them in conversation, a grin playing on his lips, until your mom intervenes.

"Now, now, boys. You'll have plenty of time to chat," she chuckles. Your mom swiftly moves your overeager brothers and offers an apologetic smile to Carlos. "Apologies, they're just excited.”

“No problem,” he says, in Italian, something he doesn’t do often when he’s alone with you. He claims he still needs to learn dirty talk in Italian. You love to teach him by whispering it into his ear. More than that, you love watching his face as he slowly grasps their meaning.

Your dad, then, approaches him for a way-too-manly handshake, but a warm smile reigns on his lips. “Carlos, great to see you again.”

“Thank you, sir. Likewise.”

In the meantime, you went to Reyes. She graced you with a compliment, a kiss on the cheek and the promise to visit your atelier in the near future. Then, it’s time for her husband, and you’re already wearing your best smile because that man is beaming as he’s watching you.

“My dear,” after two kisses on the cheeks, he slightly turns to Carlos. “So nice to see you again. Son,” he calls, and Carlos turns to you, his smile radiant, his eyes sparkling under the warm, ambient lights of the restaurant. “Let me introduce you to Y/N.”

"You're even more beautiful than my mom described," he remarks, his words catching you off guard. You manage to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, opting instead for a faint smile. “My dad has shared so much about you. Couldn’t wait to meet you.”

A surge of mixed emotions washes over you. On one hand, there's a twinge of frustration that he didn't tell his family about your connection, correcting your mistake and saving you from embarrassment. Yet, as his adoring gaze meets yours, it's hard not to be swept away by his warm compliments.

“Oh,” you murmur, feeling something shift inside you. Your own words surprise you, leaving you momentarily at a loss. "Thank you. Likewise."

Unknown to you, you echo almost exactly what Carlos had just said to your dad. The similarity draws a chuckle from Senior, who seems to find the exchange quite entertaining. Carlos chuckles as well and motions to the restaurant with his head.

“Should we?”

As the evening progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Carlos when you think no one is looking. You catch his eye occasionally, and he responds with subtle winks and sly smirks that send shivers down your spine. It's almost like a secret language only the two of you understand. He’s sitting in front of you, of course.

“Piccina,” your mom calls. “Why don’t you tell Carlos about your job?”

With a smile, you turned to face Carlos. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and you have to take a second before answering. He’s no stranger to your job. Not at all. Sometimes he even lands a helping hand, providing some foot massages while you’re working through tight deadlines and he doesn’t take “no” for an answer when he asks if he can come over.

So you simply say, “I’m a fashion designer.”

“Oh,” it’s the polite oh, not the filled-with-curiosity one. You know he’s about to say something stupid when his tongue peeks through his lips and the corner of his lips starts raising, moulding his mouth in a smirk. “So you just play dress-up for a living?”

Laughter bubbled up from one of your brothers, earning him a scolding look from your mom. They’re just nine, which makes them fifteen years younger than you. Fondly referred to as "an accident" by your parents, they were the light of your life, even if they were quite the whirlwind.

“And you, Carlos, you just play with cars on the weekends?” Carlos's eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked down, a chuckle escaping him. Sr. Carlos wore a pleased smile, and a delightful warmth settled in your belly.

"Some might find it hard to believe, but we do manage to squeeze in some actual work during the week," Carlos chimed in, earning a laugh from you. "Have you ever been to a race?”

“No, and I don’t intend to.”

"The boys are the true racing enthusiasts,” your dad chimes in. “The girls prefer to stay at home, or walk around when we travel for a Grand Prix.”

Turning to you, Carlos's eyes danced with mischief. You remembered a previous conversation where he'd tried to persuade you to attend the Italian Grand Prix, just a few weeks away. Wanting to stop him, because he’s so predictable that you just know what he’s about to say, you try to change the subject.

“Talking about races, are you playing on doing Dakar again next year, Signore?”

Carlos dismisses your question right away. "I think your perspective might change once you experience a Grand Prix firsthand.”

And this time, Carlos Sr. joins him. "Why not extend an invitation for them to visit the garage? I'm sure the kids will love the opportunity. And, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find it all exciting. You seem like a curious girl.”

Carlos beamed. "Consider this an invitation. I can't wait to have you all there.”

Your brothers practically have a collective stroke, their young minds struggling to process the idea of visiting Carlos in the garage. As for your dad, despite his time in the paddock, had never had the chance to visit the Ferrari garage, so, despite keeping his composure, you know how much it means to him—he’s undeniably the most fervent tifoso you'd ever known.

With a grateful smile, you spoke up. "That's incredibly kind of you. Thank you.”

Carlos leans comfortably against his Alfa Romeo parked in easy reach of your dad’s Audi. Your brothers are sleeping in the back seat, while your parents conclude their chat. They’re getting along well, which is weird but comforting to some degree.

You shoot Carlos a serious glance. “How much longer are you going to keep up with this little thing you started?”

“Me? May I remind you that you were the one who didn’t tell him we met?” You roll your eyes at his words and grab the door knob. “Wait. Don’t you see he’s trying to set us up?”

“And?”

“Play along. Let him have it.”

There's a moment of silent understanding, the shared secret between you adding an extra layer of intimacy. Despite it all, you crack a smile.

“You’re so childish.” You say. “You’ll be the one who’s gonna tell him.”

“I’ll tackle that when we get there,” Carlos assures. And slowly, a playful glint shines in his eyes. “Should I swing by your place on my way home?”

“No way. I have work tomorrow, a lot of work to do and I can’t afford to be tired to do it.”

He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You can stay at mine, then. And I could drive you to work. It’ll give you an extra thirty minutes of sleep.”

You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You don’t even know where I work.”

“Of course, I do,” he assures.

That’s new. “Well,” you take a deep breath and discreetly hand him over your apartment keys. “I won’t ring the bell because the old lady on my floor will listen and I think she’s spying on me. I’ll call when I’m there.”

As you're about to bid him goodnight, your dad's voice calls out from a distance, catching Carlos's attention. He waves warmly and flashes a friendly smile, which Carlos mimics.

“Golf on Sunday?” your dad asks.

Carlos's eyes light up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Can't wait!”

You can't help but interject, “Golfing with my dad, again? What the heck are you doing?”

Carlos grins. “Finding a golfing partner, since someone here,” he gestures playfully at you, “refuses to join me. And unfortunately, my dad isn't always around in Italy to tag along.”

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Alright, Sainz. Nice to meet you. See you soon.”

He drives you to work and to your surprise, he actually knows where that is. How? You can’t tell. Apparently, he also remembers that you bring breakfast for your mentor on Saturdays because just before he drops you off, he offers to join you for a few minutes, just to pick up breakfast with you.

“Since you’ve got no time to eat with me, I’ll just tag along and annoy you for ten minutes more.”

You let him enter the coffee shop with you and he hovers on your back while you order two moccas and two brownies to go with it. Your mentor is not picky, and this Saturday breakfast tradition only started because you wanted to thank him for granting you a few hours from his weekend to help you with your designs. Technically, it’s not work, but it’s just as demanding.

You can feel Carlos’ breath against your hair, and the faint smell of his cologne, still hanging in his shirt from the previous night. This morning, the buttons are undone, and the sleeves are folded up. His hair is tousled and his beard is imperfect. Yet he’s the most handsome man around.

“First time picking up breakfast together,” he says as you’re walking towards the door. “Is this the equivalent to marriage in your dictionary?”

“Don’t make me regret all the past decisions I’ve made.”

“Hm,” he hums, tilting his head. “What could I possibly make you regret?”

“Simply the fact of accepting to be introduced to you,” You let an exaggerated sigh leave your lips. “I’m living the nightmare all over again.”

Just before leaving a kiss on your cheek, he whispers. “Didn’t sound like a nightmare when I made you come thrice last night, baby. But go off.” He then kisses you on the cheek. “Have a good day.”

Carlos is too busy that night, and your Sunday is reserved for a family gathering. By Monday, you're back to your routine of nodding off right after dinner, so by the time Tuesday arrives, you’re already missing him. Not him—just his body in your bed, the sensation of his thick lips sliding down your navel and the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, wrapped up in that beautiful deep Spanish accent of his. You know he’s driving next weekend, so you spend all Wednesday staring at your phone, trying to summon a text from him.

When it finally pings, around 5 pm, it’s from your dad.

papà: heading to squash in an hour. up for a game? papà: no use in saying no papà: you already missed two weeks you: 🙄🙄🙄 you: i’ll meet you there!

You were the one who introduced your dad to squash, and gradually, it evolved into a bonding activity for both of you. Words don't flow easily with him, and you’re not great at demonstrating feelings so it’s difficult to connect with your dad. On top of that, you moved out really early. Slowly squash became a great way to connect and have quality time with him, release some steam, and stay in shape.

“I’m surprised. You never mentioned that you play squash,” a voice chimes in from behind, and you can't help but let out a sigh when you turn around.

It's Carlos, donned in a stupidly tight turquoise shirt that perfectly hugs and draws the contour of his chest, and sporting the briefest shorts you've ever seen him wear. He smiles. He knows he looks hot.

“How could I?” You reply, trying to not showcase how weak your knees just turned. “We only met like… five days ago.”

Carlos chuckles. “You’re funny. Did I tell you that yet?”

“Hmmm. You haven’t had the chance, yet.”

Sainz Sr. approaches you both, moving at a leisurely pace, absorbed in his phone. When he looks up, his frown disappears and an adoring smile takes his lips. His hand rests on his son’s shoulder as he remarks, “Didn’t I tell you today would be a perfect day for a match?”

Carlos turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "You did. What a coincidence.”

"Indeed," you chime in. "May I challenge you, sir? My dad’s still on a call and I have no partner."

“Oh, Carlos can join you,” he suggests with a nod in Carlos’ direction. “I’ll wait for your dad. We have some matters to discuss. Carry on, you two.”

Of. Course.

As the two of you step onto the squash court, the competitive glint in Carlos' eyes is hard to miss. And the tension in the air is palpable, you feel it in your bones. But you take a deep breath and push it aside, focusing on the game ahead.

"Why the sudden cold shoulder?" Carlos inquires as you prepare to start.

You glance at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm getting radio silence from you��no calls, no texts. You're not picking up my calls, either. What’s going on?"

You roll your neck, trying to ease the tension. Yesterday you just collapsed onto your couch, once again. You were living in survival mode. And wouldn’t be there playing if it wasn't a long-standing tradition with your dad.

"Work's been keeping me busy," you shrug.

It's not entirely a lie. But it’s not totally true either.

Let’s see—you've been involved in this situationship for almost five months now, seeing each other sporadically, sometimes even daily, if Carlos is in Milan. Yet, it's all so casual. You can recall the day he mentioned introducing you to his parents, of course. As a matter of fact, that talk has been looping in your mind for the last few days, but… it was a joke. Right? Sure it was. Why would he want his parents to meet his... whatever?

You could have texted him earlier. You would have texted him a few weeks ago, before all this. You can’t quite figure out why you’re panicking and why you’re behaving like a rom-com character, but you are.

"Come on, that excuse won't stick with me."

“Too bad. Can we play?" You grip the racket, twirling it in your hands. You look back, at his dad sitting on the benches, watching you from afar. “Please?”

He lets out a sigh and nods. Finally, you think.

"Is this a date?" he asks, grabbing a ball from his shorts and meeting your gaze.

"No." You're firm, and once again, he frowns. "It's not. For one, you didn't invite me. We just happened to both be here. It's coincidental.” He laughs here, slightly tilting his head back. You both know it is not coincidental. “And two, that's not what we're doing."

He cracks a smile, almost teasing. "So, what are we not doing?"

"The dating thing. We're not dating."

"Aren't we?" He smirks, his tongue peeking out, licking his lips.

You shake your head. "Nope."

"Alright, cool. Just wanted to be clear on that," Carlos replies with a nonchalant shrug, though you detect a glimmer of amusement in his voice. He’s as annoying as he’s pretty.

The first serve is swift and precise. The sound of the ball hitting the wall reverberates through the court. You dive into the game, putting your all into each movement. It's a dance of strategy and agility. You’re exhausted, but you put on a fight, using banter as your weapon. On the outside, your parents are watching, and you can’t help but notice Sainz Sr. is thoroughly enjoying this.

Sweat starts to bead on your foreheads, but neither of you shows any sign of slowing down. He wants to win and well… you want to make him lose. As you play, you steal glances at Carlos, his concentration evident in the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes, in the curse words he whispers under his breath, ones that frustration draws from him. You’ve heard them before. Oh, God, you’ve heard so much worse. But it all combined? This is a side of him you haven't seen before, and it's exhilarating.

After a particularly intense rally, Carlos manages to secure a point with a deftly placed shot. He smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "You're not making this easy," he remarks.

You grin, determined. "Wouldn't want to go easy on you, now, would I?"

The court echoes with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the thud of the ball hitting the walls. Time seems to blur as you lose yourself in the rhythm of the game. He makes you laugh and shout insults in his direction, to which he laughs.

Finally, after a hard-fought match, Carlos clinches the victory. It's a close call, and you’re about to pass out. It’s a shitty mixture of disappointment and pride. Leaning against the wall of the court, you try toth catch your breath.

"You're pretty good at this," Carlos admits, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.

"Yeah, well, I have to stay in shape to keep up with you," you quip.

He chuckles, "Am I that demanding?"

"Am I that demanding?" You repeat, forcing a Spanish accent and a deep voice. He chuckles and stands up straight. "Did your dad tell you to come here today?"

"Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. Like I told you he would."

You can't help but chuckle at Carlos's words. "Well, he’s certainly enjoying playing cupid. But hey, fun game.”

Carlos nods a genuine smile on his face. "Yeah, it was. Finally got to see you outside the flat. It's quite weird to see you with clothes at this point."

"Oh, God, you're such a prick."

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Can I drop by later today?"

You glance toward your parents, who are engaged in a lively conversation, and then back at Carlos.

"No. Early morning tomorrow. And I still have work to finish today.” You’re not lying to him, you’re lying to yourself. Even when he’s looking at you with puppy eyes, you don’t go back with your words. Instead, you stand up straight and fix your hair. “Should I expect to coincidently meet you somewhere else in the next few days?"

You know the answer to that question. You know he’s going to be away for two weekends. And you kinda know he knows you know, because when he answers, there’s the faintest smile on his lips.

"I'll be off for two weeks. Hungary and Belgium.”

"Good luck at those, then.”

“Really appreciate it.”

Yeah, so…. That night, Carlos texted you. Not a casual “u up?”, but a “it was so fucking unfair to see you in that skirt and not being able to fuck you in it” and naturally you couldn’t help but to let out an exasperated groan and promptly respond with a “come over.” So, twenty minutes later you were being screwed against your kitchen counter.

And now you’re on the couch, his head buried between your legs, eating you up like a starved man. Yes. You need to be fit to keep up with this man’s stamina. He’s that demanding. But you can’t complain.

It’s been like this. A lot of pleasure. And then a lot of peace of mind.

Afterwards, he reclines on the chaise lounge, scrolling through TV channels, looking for something remotely bearable. You go get your sketch notebook and use his torso as a pillow. He watches tv and you work, until sleep creeps over you and you fall asleep in his arms.

Five months of this. You can’t put a label on it, but you can’t imagine living without it.

Carlos only wakes you up to take you to bed, and that night he sleeps over, sprawled across your bed like a starfish, leaving you clinging to him to not fall over. In the morning, you make out in bed, lazy and sleepy. He fucks you in the shower, and then he’s off again. He texts you when he's at the airport, and once more when he lands in whichever country he's racing in. Meanwhile, you carry on with your everyday life—a bit more mundane than being fuckbuddies with a Scuderia Ferrari driver but just as busy.

As it became regular, you exchange a few texts while he's away. It's become a ritual—complimenting him on how handsome he looks after his sessions, and him requesting a selfie so he can return the favour. He sends you snapshots of random things that made him think of you, and if truth be told, you do the same. You share selfies as you stroll by the Ferrari store in Milan and send him memes (which sometimes require a brief explanation). Without fail, he sends you a good morning and a good night, and whenever you're awake, you make sure to reply.

And life happens for those two weeks.

It’s boring. It’s dull. It’s ordinary.

And then on a Monday evening your bell rings and you can’t help but leave your apartment and wait for him on the landing, right in front of the elevator, not caring if your neighbour is watching through the peephole.

“Missed me?” he quips, already unburdening himself of his backpack as he steps out of the elevator. Sunglasses perched atop his head, skin kissed by the sun, eyes wide like the moon. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

“Never,” you jest, but it's a flimsy façade, quickly shattered as you pull him close, urgency coursing through you.

Damn, you've missed him. You crave him.

And he craves you too. He's straightforward in showing it.

After you both shower, you settle on the couch. You ask him about why he had two races that weekend and he teases you because you finally demonstrate an interest in F1, and only then, after you’re insulting him and threatening to not go to Monza, he actually explains to you how a sprint weekend works, but he’s being so nerdy and so adorable and his eyes are sparkling so much that you just get back in his lap and ride him again, but this time slower, and more passionate, like you’re feeling something materialise inside you. And you come on his lap, and he kisses you slowly, and you tell him you actually missed him.

For dinner, you agree on sushi and night falls while you’re watching The Office for the only-God knows-how-many time, curled up in each other and drinking wine.

Apparently, there’s a mandatory period of vacations in F1 and unfortunately, it doesn’t match your own. So, Carlos is away with friends and family, in boats and islands in the Mediterranean, and you’re torn between Roma, Venice and Milan, assisting in campaign photoshoots.

Your days are long, exhausting and you’re tired and wishing you could be suntanning somewhere in Greece, but you’re sitting on a train, pushing small talk with your colleagues so you won’t fall asleep and drool over yourself.

Until a notification pops up on your phone, and you drop everything you’re saying because there’s a small chance that is a photo from Carlos, or some text, or just a reminder of his existence. You mentally slap yourself. When did you get that dependent?

But it’s just an email. And it’s from your mom.

You frown.

She doesn’t usually use email. Nor is interested in art galleries in Madrid.

You read through the details and you notice something interesting. The invitation has been forwarded from none other than Carlos Sainz Sr. And it makes you laugh. You take a screenshot that you send to Carlos.

you: so, your dad's moonlighting as an art promoter now? did you fire him? hot wheels guy: seems like it. he said he was going to invite you hot wheels guy: and no, i didn’t fire him primarily because he doesn’t work for me you: well it actually does sound interesting hot wheels guy: so you’re coming? you: perhaps hot wheels guy: it’s a good chance for you to meet my sisters you: don’t you have like a dog for me to meet, too? hot wheels guy: two, piñon and oil hot wheels guy: oli is a really jealous girl. i doubt she will like you you: looking forward to meet them. and your sisters too, of course hot wheels guy: and about me? you: i already met you twice. don’t need another introdution

One week later, you’re in Madrid. Sainz Sr. arrives home while you’re talking with Reyes in the kitchen, while she cooks gazpacho for lunch. Oli is in your lap, licking your cheek as your fingers get lost in the small white waves of her fur.

“Hope you get here easily. Did you take an Uber?” Sainz says right after gracing you with a small hug and two polite kisses on the cheeks. Before paying, he also leaves a pat on Oli’s head.

“Carlos picked me up at the airport, actually.”

A pleased smile creeps across Sainz Sr.'s face, like a child in a candy shop. He glances over at Carlos, who's lounging on the couch, a few meters from you.

“She’s a guest.” He points out. You didn’t even realise he was listening to your conversation. You wonder if he was listening to what you and Reyes were saying before. “I wouldn’t have let her take an Uber.”

“You’re getting along well,” the dad points out. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

Between the art and the hushed corridors of the gallery, you often find yourselves alone. A stolen kiss in the quiet garden, where the fragrance of blooming flowers mingles with the electric charge between you. And then another, amidst the art, when the room empties and you’re left in the silence of creativity, where the only beauty that matters is reflected in the depths of his eyes.

He holds your hand and listens to your explanations about art and strokes and colour theory. And he calls you a nerd. Of course, he does. And you laugh and look at each other, and kiss again, not caring if there’s someone around.

When you come back home, his sisters and parents are still in the living room, so you sit with them, still wearing your cocktail dress and Carlos still looking gorgeous in his tuxedo. You picked up churros on your way home, so you’re just basking in the serenity and the domesticity of it all. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter weaving through the air. You share stories, revealing snippets of your lives to his family, like they’re slowly becoming yours.

Ana. Blanca. Oli. Reyes. Carlos. And your Carlos, who looks at you with a warmth in his eyes that is capable of melting every cell of your body.

You can get used to this.

You only spend one night in Madrid. You sleep over at the Sainz’s—Reyes didn’t let you consider a hotel, so she prepared one of the guest rooms in advance. Surprisingly, it’s not the first time you and Carlos sleep under the same roof without having sex, but it’s the first time you do so in separate beds. And you feel restless. You lay in bed, your gaze fixed on the wall as if by sheer will, it will become transparent and grant you a view of him sleeping—the contours of his face softened in serenity, his lashes grazing his cheekbones.

According to Google, Autodromo Nazionale Monza is exactly 39 minutes away from your flat by car. Which isn’t a lot.

You’re not sure what to wear, or what’s exactly going to happen.

It’s Friday. It’s his birthday. He looks gorgeous in the photos that everyone is posting. You just need to get to the track, meet your parents and take your family to the garage. It’s as simple as that.

But you haven’t seen Carlos for more than a week, and the idea of finally seeing him is consuming you.

So you dump your worries in your wardrobe. You search for the few Ferrari pieces you have in your closet and you put out an outfit, and make-up and pretend you’re just going to an event you know nothing about. Because that’s almost the case.

Between the small crowd and the electric atmosphere and the midst of the symphony of roaring engines, you spot your parents and your brothers—their eyes wide with wonder. They’re donning Ferrari shirts and hats, each one with a different number on their clothes.

This blend of family and racing feels strangely comforting.

There’s a guy waiting for you by the entrance, with your passes. You follow him. He asks about the ride to the circuit, if it's your first time, and you can actually relieve some of the anticipation with that small talk. But you’re taking so long.

The corridor leading to the garages seems to stretch endlessly, each step an eternity.

"He's in the garage, preparing for the session. You'll have to be quick," the man informs you, but his words are mere background noise. All that matters is Carlos, and he's waiting. That's all you need.

Stepping into the garage, the noise amplifies. It's a chaotic dance of technicians and engineers, each absorbed in their tasks. You scan the frenetic scene, searching for him, but his absence is louder than the noise.

“Carlos must be arriving. Boys,” he drops to your brothers. “Want to see the car up close?”

Of course, they say yes, and they follow the man. Your dad tags along and your mother? Well, she’s apparently very interested in the sport, as well.

The first Sainz you see is Carlos’ cousin, to whom you’ve been not introduced yet, but who quickly recognizes you. You introduce yourself, and he chuckles and you say you’re “Carlos’ friend”. And then Sainz Sr. appears, with Carlos right beside him, talking to a tall skinny guy.

And God. He’s a vision in that damned racing suit.

Time seems to slow as he approaches, and when he turns to you, his eyes light up with a radiant smile. The world fades away.

“Happy birthday,” is all that occurs to you.

And a “thank you for being here,” is all that he can say before being dragged away to the screens.

This time it isn’t Reyes or Sainz Sr., but Carlos who invites your family for dinner. It's an offer you simply can't refuse, and even though your brothers are practically nodding off from fatigue, the moment they step inside the Hotel de la Ville, and notice where they are, exhaustion seems to magically dissipate.

The entire day was amazing, but you’ve barely had a chance to be near Carlos. So, as he finally takes his seat across from you, the desire to kiss him simmers just beneath your skin, burning you whole. He's clad in his signature red shirt, his unruly hair falling playfully over his forehead. And he’s wearing white jeans, which makes the colour of his tanned skin intensify.

Caught in the act of admiring him, you see him move his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and swiftly adjust your position in the chair, refocusing on your dads’ intense discussion about the latest football market moves.

“Piccina,” your mother chimes in. “You never told me about the Madrid trip. The gallery. Was it nice?”

You glance at your mother and then at the whole table. Carlos has that playful twinkle in his eyes, clearly anticipating to hear you stutter as you try to talk about the exhibition. Well, you did pay attention to the art, of course, but what remains in your mind is the way Carlos’ eyes always managed to drift to you, no matter which room you were in.

“It was beautiful, Mom,” you reply, offering her a warm smile. “I’ve already told Carlos how grateful I am for the invite.” At the head of the table, Sainz Sr. smiles at you, with a simple yet approving nod. “The other Carlos tagged along with me. He got to learn a lot about art. Right, junior?”

Carlos leans to you, propping his elbows on the table, a trace of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I have to admit, you managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting."

Thankfully, Sainz Sr.'s hearty laughter momentarily steals everyone's attention, giving you a chance to regain your composure. Your cheeks are warm, and from the feeling of them, you know they’re red. You managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting. And he smiles, because he knows you badly you’re falling.

"Well, that's impressive,” your dad chimes.

And you're not sure if he's complimenting Carlos's smooth line or your ability to be a guide. So you ignore him and try to play it cool.

“So,” your mom continues, her hand resting on your arm, her curiosity fully piqued. "You two spent a good time together in Madrid?"

You share a subtle glance with Carlos before nodding. "Yes, we did. It was a great exhibition."

A brief hush falls over the table and you can’t help but feel like you’re under a microscope and everyone can see through you. Carlos’ gaze, steady and unwavering, is locked onto you, and you feel yourself softening, captured in his attention.

“Well,” Sainz Sr., who's been quietly observing, interjects with a warm smile. "It seems like you two have been getting along quite well."

Carlos chuckles and looks down, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his glass. You both exchange a quick look, a silent understanding passing between you.

It’s time.

"Actually," you start, "we've been getting along really, really well."

Reyes leans in. "Oh? Do tell."

“We’ve been…” You hesitate, glancing at Carlos for support.

He meets your gaze. “Dating,” he completes your sentence with a confident smile. “We’ve been dating for a while now. Six, seven-ish months?”

Sainz Sr.’s eyes light up, and then he furrows his brows, clearly processing the information. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch the gears turning in his mind.

“That’s before—way before I… introduced you.”

“In my defence,” you chime in. “I did try to tell you we’ve already met before. Blame your son. He’s the one who decided to play with you for so long.”

“Well, this is… wonderful news.” Sainz Sr. beams. You steak a glance at Carlos, knowing he’s definitely going to tease you about how genuinely pleased you looked after revealing the truth. “So, seven months, eh? Okay. When’s the wedding? And when do I get Carlos the 3rd?”

I had so much fun writing this one!!! I used every little break at work to write this. It's a bit different than what I usually write, so all feedback is appreciated. Thank you for the request! 🫶

#Carlos Sainz #Carlos Sainz Jr #Carlos Sainz x Reader #Carlos Sainz x You #Carlos Sainz Smut #Carlos Sainz Fanfic #Carlos Sainz Imagine #Formula 1 x Reader #Formula 1 x You #F1 x Reader #F1 x You #F1 Imagine #F1 One Shot #Driver x Reader #F1 Driver x Reader #Driver x You #F1 Driver x You #F1 Fanfic #FanF1ction

[checopereez]

how the f1 would react to you being pregnant

charles leclerc

charles would be so joyful. he is a total family person and he loves babies. charles has been wishing for you two to become parents for so long and when you told him the news, he first burst into tears before hugging you tightly.

pierre gasly

pierre would be shocked. he wouldn't know what to say, as pierre thinks having a baby would not fit into his life style. but then pierre would imagine having a little version of you or him running around and his heart would soften. he would then hug you gently and say that everything will be alright.

carlos sainz

carlos would be angry. not at you, of course but at himself. carlos knew you weren't sure about having kids as of right now and when looking at your eyes, carlos could see fear. he thought he pressured you into something you didn't really want but then you would smile at him and say that you couldn't wait to start a family with him.

daniel ricciardo

daniel would be joyous. at first you feared telling him because you thought having a child would not fit with daniel's style of life. but daniel would grin widely and press kisses all over your face, your clothed belly, telling the baby in your belly that he couldn't wait to meet them.

oscar piastri

oscar would cry. he wouldn't know what to do, as he felt like you both were way too young to raise a child. you would feel the same, scared that everything would fall apart. but after calming down, oscar would take your face into his hands, wipe your tears away and say that no matter what, he would always be by your side and that you two could do everything as long as you would stick together.

#f1 fanfic #f1 headcanons #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #driver x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #oscar piastri x reader #pierre gasly x reader

[landorris]

popular | lando norris x fem! reader

part two to this

fc; darianka sanchez

warnings; english is not my first language

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

your phone

landonorris

liked by yourusername, oscarpiatri and others

landonorris: italy off track 🇮🇹🍦

user1: he looks so happy

user2: oh to be rich

yourusername: wish you drowned tbh

landonorris: im a pretty good swimmer

yourusername: don’t lie mate

user3: not her calling him mate😭

user4: the ice cream he’s such a romantic

danielricciardo: you could’ve tagged me in the ice cream date

landonorris: you’re so annoying

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: italy is fun 🇮🇹🍦

user1: same emojis and everything they’re so sick

user2: the matching photos i love them

user3: she’s such a cutie

danielricciardo: wow another ice cream date?

yourusername: stfu daniel

user4: im loving the soft lunch era

landonorris: stai davvero bene in arancione

yourusername: not the google translate italian

landonorris: why are you mean

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your phone

landonorris

liked by yourusername, aussiegrit and others

landonorris: me and the bad bitch i pulled from being funny

yourusername: you’re not that funny

landonorris: why are you with me then

yourusername: cuz youre hot and british

landonorris: fair enough

yourusername: i love you sm💞💞💞

landonorris: i love you to babe🧡🧡

user1: we knew it

user2: the hard launch 🤭

aussiegrit: take care of her norris

landonorris: i will sir

danielricciardo: i ate this fr

user3: mark and lando in the comments

user4: how did he bagged her?

landonorris: that’s all i wanted to know mate

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: he was so hot i had to tie a bow on it

landonorris: delete this

yourusername: why?

landonorris: cause you’re dad will see it and he likes me

yourusername: my dad is not dumb he knows we’re not playing fights all night in the same room

landonorris: i love but pls delete

yourusername: love you too lan❤️

user1: she really said HARD launch

user2: ONG PARNEBTS

user3: i wonder how mark reacted to this post

danielricciardo: what about the children of this app

yourusername: if they’re children they shouldn’t have social medias 🤷🏽‍♀️

user4: this is so coquette

aussiegrit: you could’ve chosen better pics no?

yourusername: well it’s not my fault im like you❤️

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lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and others

lando.jpg: forever n always 💘

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#formula 1 #f1 #moodboard #cars #grand prix #aesthetic #mclaren #orange #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #driver x reader #mclaren f1

[lvis44]

Sex & Candy // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), FWB/Unestablished Relationship, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Swearing, Kinda Rushed?, Not Edited/Proofread

Word Count: 4.8k+

Summary: A long day at work and an even longer time apart can all be made better by some chocolate and the man that can make the whole world stop.

Notes: This was requested a while ago and I totally stopped writing it like halfway through and forgot about it, but here we are! I have some angst in the works and also maybe a little blurb for vegas, we shall see how that shit show goes.

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

MSG Lewis: In town for a few days, you wanna grab dinner tonight?

MSG: Stuck at work :(.... Drinks later?

MSG Lewis: As long as I get to see you

MSG: I’ll let you know when I’m done

You huffed, tossing your phone on the desk in front of you before daring a glance at the clock. It would be another few hours until you were able to leave the office and you hated to keep him waiting. The two of you weren’t in a committed relationship but anytime he was in the city, he would be at your door, taking you to fancy dinners or spending hours in your sheets. Every time you saw him it made your heart clench, always wanting more with him but knowing he wouldn’t be agreeable, not for a few years at least. The minutes ticked by like hours as you finished up the last bits of your paperwork, the sound of the clock on your wall teasing you with every tick. You had been ready to leave for hours but with the knowledge you would be seeing him now, the temptation to call it a day was tenfold. Your assistant brought takeout to your desk, making you sigh. You could be at a beautiful restaurant with an even more beautiful man, but instead you were eating barely warm pasta at your desk alone.

Finally you were done, the clock nearing 9pm. You half wondered if he would have found something else to keep himself busy for the night, you wouldn’t blame him. You pondered just going home, not wanting to embarrass yourself with an unanswered message. You decided to push your pride to the side, wanting him more than you wanted to keep your dignity.

MSG: Just getting ready to leave the office

You sent your first text, wanting to leave the door open for him to offer a plan, never wanting to impose, already too lucky to have his attention.

MSG Lewis: That’s way too late love :(

You frowned as you read his message, worried you had missed your window, but a second message came only a moment later.

MSG Lewis: How about you meet me at my place, I’ll send you a car.

Your frown was quickly reversed, he still wanted to see you, only worried about how late you were leaving work.

MSG: Can’t just leave my car at work silly

MSG: I’ll see you soon

MSG Lewis: Wait, have you eaten? I can get us something

You smiled again, the care he showed you would always make you swoon, wish you could keep it all to yourself.

MSG: Ate at my desk, now stop texting me so I can come see you xx

MSG Lewis: Okay okay! Drive safe beautiful, see you soon

Thankfully he didn’t live too far from your office, a trip that you had made a hundred times at this point. You were giddy as you pulled up to the gate to his house, having been too many weeks since you’d seen him. His schedule made things difficult but you would always be honored to have the small moments you could. He must have gotten a notification when you pulled in because he was already waiting with his door wide open. He was in his cozy clothes, large arms crossed over his broad chest and the most adoring smile on his face. You tried to keep yourself calm as you all but lept out of the car to reach him. His arms were open the second he saw you approach, meeting you halfway down the driveway, his feet bare against the pavement without a care.

“God I missed you.” He whispered into the side of your head as you nuzzled your face into his neck, taking in his scent that you missed for so long.

“I missed you too.” You sighed, placing a gentle kiss on the strong muscle of his neck.

He pulled away, only enough to look at you, his arms still firmly wrapped around your waist. Suddenly you felt self conscious, very aware that you had just come from a very long day at work and definitely didn’t look your best, but staring at his face you didn’t see a hint of judgment. Yet still you felt the need to apologize, very unnecessarily.

“Sorry I didn’t get the chance to change, was just excited to come see you.” You told him, looking away from his eyes and locking your gaze on his chest in front of you.

“Oh shush, you look gorgeous. You could show up here in a trash bag and I’d still be happy to see you.” Lewis chuckled at your suddenly shy demeanor. 

You finally looked up to him again. His eyes were gentle and you could tell he meant what he was saying. The moment your gaze held his, his hand was cradling your cheek and his lips were on yours. The kiss was much sweeter than many you had shared in your time together and it made your stomach flip. Something felt different.

“Come on, let’s go inside and you can tell me all about your long ass day at work.” He smirked when he finally pulled away. His large hand grasped yours and started pulling you along to his open door.

He led you to his kitchen, two glasses of wine already waiting on the island and you couldn’t help but smile. He grabbed them, letting you take one from his hand before pulling you close to him again. He raised his glass to yours in a toast.

“To finally being able to unwind.” He whispered, a small smile on his lips.

“To finally being able to unwind.” You sighed.

He sat you down at the island, asking if you needed anything before he was busying himself in the kitchen.

“Lewis, I told you I already had dinner, you don’t have to make anything.” You said, laughing as you watched him rummaging in his fridge.

“I know, but first of all, eating at your desk doesn’t sound particularly relaxing, second of all, you never said you had dessert.” He said, his head still in the fridge, making you laugh once again.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, “and what exactly do I get for dessert?” You questioned him, your eyes scanning the muscles of his back flexing through his t-shirt.

He shot you a look over his shoulder as he made his way to the counter with an armful of things you couldn’t quite see.

“All in due time darling, all in due time.” His voice was playful yet promising and you felt your stomach flip.

“You know I’m not good with surprises.” You whined jokingly.

“Oh I’m well aware,” He laughed, “now tell me, how was work?”

You knew there was no use arguing with the most stubborn man you had ever met, so you started to fill him in on the stresses of your day, watching his shoulders flex as he chopped things you couldn’t see. His eyes weren’t on you but you could tell you had his full attention as he asked questions and made remarks about coworkers he knew you didn’t care for. By the time he turned back around your glass of wine was empty and he was immediately filling it back up.

“Okay, so don’t laugh at me,” He started with a chuckle, “but I thought we could break out my chocolate fountain.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, he immediately sent you a playfully stern look.

“Your chocolate fountain? Why do you have a chocolate fountain?” You asked, trying to suppress your giggle.

“I bought it for a party and never touched it again,” He explained, “but I thought it could be fun. Besides, who doesn’t love chocolate and strawberries?”

“Touche.” You said, raising your glass towards him.

“Okay good, because I may have already set it up in the other room.” He said, giving you a sheepish look, rolling his lips into his mouth to avoid the grin threatening on his face.

“Of course you did.” You giggled, already hopping down from your seat.

“Alright, this way my dear.” He laughed, grabbing the bottle of wine and the bowl of strawberries, somehow also managing to pat your ass to get you to move.

When you walked into the den you wanted to melt. He had candles set up around the room and the lights low. The chocolate fountain was set up on the table in the middle of the room with a variety of pillows and blankets on the floor in front of it. He urged you to sit, right in front of the fountain, nestled into the pillows. The second you were comfortable on the floor he was taking off your heels and massaging your calves, making your head lean back into the couch behind you. Your head lulled to the side, looking at him. He had settled in right beside you, taking your legs and placing them in his lap.

“I know we haven’t seen each other enough recently and it sounds like work’s been getting stressful. I just want you to be able to relax.” He said softly, his arm draping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You couldn’t help but nestle further into him, enjoying his warmth and soothing touch.

“It’s okay, I know you’re a very busy man and work is always stressful.” You laughed at the end of your sentence.

“Well let me give you a little bit of peace.” He whispered, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know what would be amazing?” You said, lifting your head to look at him.

He raised his eyebrows for you to continue.

“One of the chocolate strawberries I’ve been promised.” You giggled, making him grin.

“Yes ma’am.” He said playfully, pecking your lips before leaning forward to grab a strawberry.

You watched as he carefully spun the strawberry in the chocolate making sure it was fully coated, ever the perfectionist. He leaned over bringing it to your mouth with his other hand underneath, making sure to catch any drops that may come off. He watched you intently as your lips wrapped around the chocolate coated fruit, a small content moan leaving you. He took his hand back, finishing the last bit of berry that you hadn’t eaten.

Your nose scrunched at his action, “Eating my leftovers now, are you?”

He laughed, “My tongue has had a lot more of you than just your leftovers, think I can handle it.”

Your face immediately flushed, looking away from him making him giggle, he loved to rile you up, make you shy.

“C’mon.” You heard him say, making you turn back to face him. He had another strawberry ready, right in front of your lips.

Once again he watched intently as you took a bite, his eyes growing heavy. A small bit of chocolate dripped onto his wrist. Before he could take his hand away you grabbed his forearm, licking away the drop, making sure to keep your eyes on him the entire time. You watched as he let out a deep breath, one that looked like he had been holding for a long time.

“Can’t let any go to waste, it’s delicious.” You shrugged with a smirk, enjoying being able to get him as flustered as you felt.

“Mmm,” He hummed, bringing his hand to your jaw, “well you’ve got some right here.”

His thumb brushed over the corner of your mouth, drawing over your bottom lip before adding just the slightest pressure, making you open your mouth. You welcomed his thumb onto your tongue, the taste of him better than the chocolate. You made sure to swirl your tongue over the pad of his thumb, watching as he licked his lips slowly, enjoying the show. His thumb drew your bottom lip down, his face now much closer to yours than before, his hand still cupping your jaw.

“You’re a tease, you know that?” His voice was low and taunting.

“How am I a tease when you know you’ll get exactly what you want?” You whispered, a small smile on your lips.

“Yeah? What is it that I want?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips coming closer to yours.

“More chocolate?” You giggled, pulling away from him.

You knew exactly how this night would end and you were more than happy with it, but it was always fun to tease him, it brought out another side of him that you were always happy to unlock. You watched as he bit his lip, trying and failing to suppress his smile, rolling his eyes as he shook his head.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.” He playfully sighed, watching as you leaned it to grab a piece of fruit. He chuckled as you took your time fully covering the entire surface with as much chocolate as possible.

“What?” You said over your shoulder, sending him a look.

“Just wondering if maybe you would prefer a spoon, skip the fruit altogether.” He said through a laugh.

“Oh hush, you know I’m a slut for chocolate, it has to be perfectly coated, needs to have the right ratio of fruit to chocolate.” You tried to explain, your own giggle coming through your words.

“I see,” His chuckle had calmed down now as his arms wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzling into your neck, “is that all you're a slut for?”

“I think we both know the answer to that.” You sighed as he nipped at the skin below your ear, forgetting about the candy in your hand almost entirely.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you further into him. He stopped his slow assault on your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder and nudging your cheek with his nose.

“You gonna eat that?” He whispered, reminding you of the fruit still in your hand, untouched.

You slowly shook your head, bringing it to his mouth. His bite was slow, keeping his eyes locked on yours. The way his lips wrapped around the berry made your stomach twist, visions on them all over your body. A low, content moan came from the back of his throat, almost as if he hadn't meant to make the sound. You were about to pull your hand away, but the second you tried he grabbed your wrist and brought it back to his mouth. He took the last bit of the berry as well as the tip of your finger into his mouth, wrapping his lips around your finger for only a moment before pulling away with a smirk. You could feel the heat in your cheeks and you knew he could see it too. You noticed a small smear of chocolate along his bottom lip, for a moment you contemplated wiping it off the same way he had done to you moments ago, but you opted for a different approach. You leaned into him, just ghosting the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip. That is all you had meant to do but within moments he had taken your tongue into his mouth, sucking on it like he had something to prove, something to claim. Within the blink of an eye he was kissing you hard, his own tongue making its way into your mouth as he pulled you fully into his lap. You were straddling him now, your arms making their way around his shoulders so you could pull him even closer, feel his strong chest against yours even if only through the fabric of your shirts. His hands that had been placed on your waist made their way down to your ass, taking greedy handfuls as he began to guide your hips to rock against him. You could feel him through his sweats, only half hard and already an impressive size. He groaned against your lips, the feeling of being together again in the smallest of ways already almost overwhelming. You had missed the feeling of being close to him so much and you could tell it was reciprocated.

“Need you.” He muttered against your lips, his voice breathless.

It was rare for him to seem desperate, never had you heard him even begin to beg. His small admission made your heart soar. You always knew he wanted you, he wouldn’t keep calling if he didn’t, but it was rarely something that he spoke.

“What about the chocolate? Gonna let it go to waste?” You teased him, you really couldn’t help it.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.” He whispered against your skin, his kisses now trailing down your neck. You could feel the ghost of a smirk spread across his lips.

Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was, but as he effortlessly lifted you to lay you back against the blankets on the floor, you were reminded once again of just how powerful the man above you was. His hands were under your shirt immediately, desperately trying to take it off. He was hasty in his movements, unlike himself, almost frustrated at the discovery of the buttons on your blouse. You leaned up, kissing him softly as you helped him undo the trail of buttons, shrugging the fabric off your shoulders. The moment that was done your hands were under his shirt, pushing it up until he had to sit up and remove it himself. He was back over you immediately, his toned chest pressing up against you making you sigh. You ran your hands down the bare skin of his back, reveling in the strong muscle you felt, imagining the tattoo you were blindly tracing.

“I’ve missed you so much,” His words were rushed, like they were being forced out of him, as he kissed down your chest, “haven’t even been with anyone else, I’ve only wanted you.”

Your bra was quickly discarded before he took your perked nipple into his mouth, not giving you even a moment to process what he had just said. Your eyes fluttered shut as a soft moan escaped you.

“That sound, fuck, I think about it all the time. It’s like fucking music.” He said softly into your skin as his wet lips trailed kisses to your other breast.

Only seconds later you felt his warmth leave you, as you slowly opened your eyes a warm liquid landed directly in the valley of your breasts making you gasp. Then you felt his tongue, flat and warm he licked the same trail before his lips were on yours again. You didn’t even have to ask what he had just done, immediately tasting the chocolate on his tongue.

“Told you we would figure something out.” He smirked against your lips.

As he distracted you with kisses his hand made its way to the hem of your skirt. The second you felt the tips of his calloused fingers running up the inside of your thigh you couldn’t help but buck your hips, making him giggle against your lips. He decided not to tease you too much, swiftly moving your panties to the side so he could run his fingers through your already drenched folds.

“Fuck, always so ready for me.” He groaned, nuzzling his head into your neck, leaving teasing nibbles on your skin as he softly stroked you.

When the pads of his fingers finally landed on your clit you moaned loudly, needing the relief.

“That feel good, baby?” He coaxed you as his fingers slowly worked you, barely enough but still heavenly.

“More, Lew, please.” You whimpered into the air as he pulled back to look at you.

He didn’t respond for a moment, gazing down at you with a look you couldn’t quite make out. He didn’t say a word before his fingers were slipping down to your entrance. With no warning he plunged a thick digit inside of you, curling in the perfectly practiced manner that would have you writhing in seconds. His thumb took over the actions against your clit as he gently eased a second finger inside of you, not waiting around for you to adjust. He was needy tonight, determined to have you exactly how he wanted. The look on his face was one of pure concentration and lust. His brows were furrowed, pupils blown out, his lips parted just barely. He was studying you, drinking in every reaction you offered, committing everything about you to memory for the next time he was gone for weeks on end. 

You were struggling to focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on you, but you wanted him more. You used your last bit of will power to get your hands to the front of his sweatpants, palming the heavy bulge there that you could tell wasn’t restricted by anything. You gave him a small squeeze before trailing your hand up to his belly, determined to get him out of his pants. He faltered for only a moment but regained himself quickly, rendering you just about useless as he began to scissor his fingers inside of you with purpose. You slipped your hand into the front of his sweats as you used your other to pull his head down to you, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy as they bore down into yours. The sigh he let out as you wrapped your hand around his rigid length was one that sounded almost pained. He was hot and heavy in your palm, could feel him pulsing, painfully turned on.

“Lewis, please, just want you.” You whispered against his lips, your words carrying more meaning than you wanted.

“Yeah, of course, fuck, yeah.” He said just as quietly, scrambling to try to get his pants off while still trying to touch you. He seemed almost like a teenage boy who was about to hit it for the first time and it made you want to laugh. The best, most experienced partner you'd ever had, and still acted like he never thought the day would come. He somehow managed to kick his sweats off while still keeping his fingers planted deeply inside you, steadily bringing you to a peak.

He was beautiful in the soft candle light, his features were sharper and his beard somehow looked fluffier, the glow of the flames made his tattoos glisten. It all almost distracted you from the other beautiful part he had just exposed to you. He was thick against your stomach, his tip almost burgundy from how hard he was, steadily leaking precum. It made your confidence peak. The man, who you thought was inarguably the most attractive being to walk the planet, was in this state because of you. There was evident displeasure across his face when he realized he would have to disconnect from you, even if only for a moment, if he wanted to take your skirt off. He did, throwing it off to the side making you say a silent prayer it hadn’t landed on a flame.

He knelt back on his heels in front of you, eyes wandering all over your body as one hand grasped his cock, the other came up to his mouth. You could see your glistening arousal on his fingers as he took them onto his tongue, groaning as he tasted you. Regularly he would have set up camp with his head between your thighs by now, making you come more times than you thought possible before he was finally inside of you, but you could tell that wasn’t going to happen right now.

“How do you always taste so good, hmm?” He asked with a small smirk as he positioned himself back over you, using the head of his cock to nudge against your clit. You couldn’t respond, only gasping as he did it again.

He pressed his forehead firmly against yours as he lined himself up with your entrance, barely any pressure but you could already anticipate the stretch that was about to come.

“Gonna make you come on my tongue so many times you forget your own name later, but right now I need this, we need this.” He said lowly as he started to push into you.

You wrapped a leg around his hip as you clung to him for dear life. Rarely did you take him without coming first, his size was notable and thankfully he knew that. He was slow and gentle, easing himself into you as he softly told you how good you were doing for him, how incredible you felt around him. He let out the most content groan you had ever heard from him once he was seated inside you. The stretch had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you dug your fingernails into his shoulder blades. He stayed still for a moment, letting you take your time adjusting, only moving once you started gently rocking your hips up toward him. Soft moans and groans filled the room as he fell into a steady pace, a rhythm you weren’t used to from him. It felt like he was melding the two of you into one, taking care of your soul. He was leaning down on his forearms, caging you in with his forehead still pressed to yours. Occasional kisses were left to your lips that you tried desperately to reciprocate but all you could do was whimper into his mouth.

“Let me take care of you baby, wanna make you feel good.” He murmured against your jaw as he brought your other leg up around his hip, making him press even deeper into you. He always managed to talk to you, no matter how much he was enjoying himself or how lost in pleasure he seemed. It was something you envied, usually left with nothing but the ability to moan and say his name the moment his hands were on you. 

His change in angle had you crying out, your nails dragging down his back causing a deep groan to escape him. Tonight was different and you could tell. You could feel your stomach clenching, your high approaching quickly despite the little prep he had given you, his hand hadn’t even made it down to your clit as it usually would right before you were about to come. The sex felt like more of a connection and less of just a fuck but you couldn’t let yourself get your hopes up.

“God, you're close aren't you?” He groaned as he felt you clench around him. All you could do was nod as your eyes shut tight.

“Come on baby, let go for me.” He said softly, kissing your neck, “I’ve got you, I’m right here, come all over me, you’re doing so good.”

His words pushed you over the edge, you pulled him down onto you very aware that he had simply let you, letting him crush you as you moaned loudly. The second he felt your walls fluttering around him, his hips were stuttering against you. You could tell he was trying to fuck you through your own release but losing out to the sheer pleasure he was in. The two of you came together, a rarity between you. Your ears were ringing but you were able to hear the beautiful pained sound he made as he released into you, painting your walls and throbbing deep inside of you. You felt him go limp on top of you for a moment, his fingers very lazily tracing up and down your thigh. You were no better, floating somewhere in between space and time. It had been a while since you had come that hard and your brain had simply turned to mush. It wasn’t until you heard his soft, raspy voice that you started to come back into yourself.

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” He giggled into your neck.

“Hmm?” You answered, not quite ready to form a full sentence, your fingers softly tracing over his sweaty back.

He propped himself up ever so slightly so he could look at you, still deep inside of you and making no move to pull out.

“I’ve really missed you, I always miss you like crazy when I’m away. I’m constantly thinking about when I’m going to get to see you next. I never want anyone else because nothing compares to this.” He said softly, more than likely repeating the words he had just said.

“I always miss you too Lewis.” You told him, reaching up to run your fingers through his beard. You weren’t quite sure what else to say, not quite sure what his admission meant.

“Stay the night? Please?” He asked, the last part sounding almost like a plea as he leaned into your touch.

“Of course,” You whispered, “but only if I can shower before bed.”

He chuckled at you, leaning down to place a soft kiss to your lips, “Always, but I think we need to have some more fun with the chocolate fountain first.”

His eyes were gleaming with mischief and you couldn’t help but question if you would be sleeping at all.

#lewis hamilton #lvis44 #lh44 #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #driver x reader #f1 drivers #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton one shot #formula 1 #formula one #lh #team lh44 #f1 fic #mercedes amg f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #sir lewis hamilton #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #lewis hamilton x you #driver x you

[merchelsea]

hotel room - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc + fem!reader

summary: charles decided to rent a room in a hotel that was not associated with f1 to take girls into without causing any drama, but it turns out that asking for extreme discretion on a cheap hotel is not a great idea.

author's note: this is obviously going to have a part two, i'm not a monster to leave you hanging like this

word count: 5,3k

part two

"hello?" you blurted out after a long minute of awkward silence in your hotel room. two men lay on your bed.

at first, you thought they were employees, but it took you exactly ten seconds to realize they weren't. first, because they stood there, just looking at you; second, because people who work in hotels don't typically carry louis vuitton suitcases.

"we didn't ask for room service." one of them told you. he had water-blue eyes, brown hair, a short beard, and a strong french accent.

"this is my room." you replied shortly. they exchanged puzzled glances while you stood there waiting.

"well, surely you got the number wrong. this one is mine." the other man said, showing you his key. the first man was handsome, but the second was exceptionally good-looking.

his green eyes, perfectly brushed brown hair, and the little facial hair he had fit together with the rest of his features, making him one of the most beautiful man you had ever seen. his accent was just as strong. were french men always this good-looking?

the logo on his red t-shirt, which you recognized all too well due to your tifosi brother's passion, left little doubt that he was likely in melbourne for the race.

"i did not" you insisted, showing him your own key. he furrowed his eyebrows and got up from your bed.

"they probably just gave you the wrong key." he had came closer and you handed him your key for him to see.

"no they didn't, i have this confirmed for the past two weeks. room 81 is mine." you had the right room, but so did he. and the worst part is that you both had your ways to prove it.

he looked back at his friend, and the three of you silently thought about what to do.

"call them, they must have an explanation for all of this." the blue-eyed man suggested. "i told you this wasn't a good idea." he mumbled to his friend, and french-number-two proceeded to follow french-number-one's advice.

they picked up immediately, and the ferrari fan asked someone to come. the silence lingered until a blonde woman, dressed in her work attire, entered the room.

"hello, sir. how can i help you?" she glanced you up and down dismissively. you thought, 'Bitch', but refrained from saying it out loud. you looked at the men to see if they had noticed, and french-number-one apparently had.

"we seem to have a complication here," he began. you moved closer, realizing that you were part of the problem too. "it looks like we both got the same room." he pointed at you.

the woman tilted her head to the side. "that's not possible." she said. a smile planted on her lips.

"well, obviously it is." you retorted, delicately handing her your phone for her to see the reservation. "just have one of us moved, please." you needed rest after a twenty-one-hour flight, and dealing with this was not what you had in mind.

"well, miss, that is not my job, but i'm pretty sure my colleagues can’t help you with that either." you and french-number-two stood silent as she explained that the hotel had run out of rooms due to the race happening in melbourne on sunday.

"what do people find so entertaining about this car thing, after all?" you mused aloud as you sat on the bed.

"oh, i don't know," the blue eyed laughed, while the green eyed looked at you, seemingly offended. you closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, trying to collect your thoughts. "well, can you tell your colleagues who deal with this to sort this out? you're not planning on making them share a room, are you?"

"no, sir. i’m sorry. you two can come with me, and i'll take you to talk to someone," she implored, begging them forgiveness with her eyes, though she never glanced your way.

whether she was desperate to get laid or they were important clients to the hotel, you couldn't help but feel enraged. you resisted the urge to scream, "i'm here too," and instead remained silent as you followed her to a more private area of the hotel.

the woman took you to a room that looked like an office, where a brunette sat behind a desk, wearing a superior expression. same expression that faded as soon as she looked the frenchman’s direction.

the blonde left the three of you alone, and the ferrari fan explained the situation to the woman behind the desk. she instructed you to sit, so she could make a call to figure out what happened. so you did, and in silence you heard her fingers press the numbers she intended.

your mind was elsewhere when the man next to you whispered, "what's your name?" his accent so strong that you were sure english wasn't his first language.

"y/n. what’s yours?" you whispered back.

"charles," he replied, his name matching the idea you had of him.

"now i can finally stop calling you french-number-two in my mind." you remarked. he furrowed his brows, and you cursed him for looking so good like this.

"wait, why is pierre french-number-one?" pierre was also a french name, you realized, amused by your accentology.

"he was the first one to talk, and everything about him just screams french." you explained.

"fair point, but I'm actually not french," Charles confessed. you looked at him with curiosity. “i’m monegasque.”

"that makes sense," you replied with a nod, and couldn't help but notice how well the name suited him.

"i’m sorry, i figured out what happened," the woman interrupted, her tone now more professional. "firstly, I would like to apologize to both of you for all of this mess. miss, you reserved and paid for the room two weeks ago, while..." she gestured toward charles. "you called us later. it turns out the person you spoke to that day is a fan of yours and gave you our best room without checking. we are very, very sorry, for this misfortune and we'll do everything we can to provide you with some comfort."

charles and you exchanged glances. you were curious with what she said about a fan, but you decided not to ask. on the other hand, he was preoccupied with how unprofessional this situation was turning out to be.

"well, 'comfortable' would be if we could have separate rooms," the, now known as monegasque, complained.

"that, i cannot offer, but we can transfer one of you to our affiliate hotel, which is an hour and a half from here and offers excellent service quality." anything that didn’t mess things up like this would be great.

both charles and you shook your heads in unison, declining the offer.

"it's too far from where i have to be." you informed her, hoping that charles had plans close to this hotel she talked about.

"exactly, it's too far for me too." he confirmed, and luck seemed to be as far from you as possible, even when you needed the most.

"i'm very sorry, but it appears you'll have to share the room." the woman concluded.

you took a deep breath and left the room before you could say something offensive. charles followed you.

"we can make this work," he said.

"we better." you replied with a sigh.

"i need some sleep too," you groaned when charles asked you to vacate the room until 2 a.m.

"it's friday! why are you planning on sleeping at 6 p.m. on a friday?"

"because i just endured an incredibly long and exhausting flight. i'm desperate for some rest." you explained as you collapsed onto the bed, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"why don't we let you do that now, and then pierre here can pick you up later so I can have the room for a couple of hours? you can sleep as much as you'd like when you return, i promise." charles suggested, making a last offer.

he had given up hope right after revealing his plans to you, mainly due to the disapproving look you gave him. it's not an everyday thing that you're asked to leave your room just because your unexpected roommate wanted to have a girl over.

"i want fresh sheets when i get back." you demanded as you headed to the bathroom to change into more comfortable sleepwear. the monegasque nearly jumped for joy when you agreed to this insanity.

"thank you, thank you, thank you." he repeated numerous times to express his gratitude. you could still hear his excited exclamations inside the private compartment. suddenly, you remembered that you had no idea where you were going.

"pierre can pick me up to go where, exactly?" you raised your voice so they could hear you clearly.

they remained silent for a moment, and you understood that they hadn't thought this through. after all, this was a bad thing for the both of you.

"i know of a few clubs i can take you to, i guess," pierre yelled back, his uncertainty evident in his tone.

"what do you wear to a club in melbourne?"

"something nice, i don't know, i'm not a woman. just wear whatever you wear to a club." you chuckled to yourself and returned to the bedroom.

"okay," you said, facing them again and ready to get some rest. "now, you two french things, get out. i'm going to catch up on some jet lag."

"i'm not french." charles mumbled as he exited the room, followed closely by pierre.

the actual frenchman retorted, "i don't think she cares at the moment."

with that, you found yourself alone, left only with your exhaustion and the comforting embrace of your bed.

you stirred awake, the relentless pounding in your head a cruel reminder of the little sleep you had. slowly, you opened your eyes, and the now familiar blue gaze of pierre greeted you.

"hey," he began with an apologetic tone, "charles insisted i wake you up. i'm sorry."

sleepily, you tried to check the time, scanning the unfamiliar room for a clock, anything to anchor you to melbourne's time zone.

"it's around ten, i think." pierre informed you once he realized what you were trying to do. he settled on the edge of the bed when you decided to sit up. "you need to go get ready, i'll take you to eat something."

"what are you? my body guard?" you smiled to him, still dizzy. the four hours you slept doing nothing but giving you a headache. "i can get my own food pierre."

he quickly shook his head. "charles would murder me." he confesses, his words leaving you puzzled. your groggy expression must have been quite evident. "i think the remorse is kicking in. he even tried to bribe me to stick by your side."

"how thoughtful of him," irony slips through your smile as you speak. "he does realize i would have preferred if he'd just let me sleep instead?"

"his brain has its limits." he lets out a chuckle and you sight, needing much more of that sleep you just woke up from.

dragging yourself out of bed, you clutched your suitcase and shuffled into the bathroom, determined to transform into a club worthy version of yourself.

with time in short supply, you limited your skincare routine to a quick facial cleanse and your trusty hydrating lotion. makeup took you, surprisingly, just a few minutes; you decided to go for a no-makeup, makeup look. the real problem lay in choosing the right outfit.

in your haste, it seemed you had packed either too much or too little to this club. with your birthday at the door, you had plans to party, socialize, and maybe even get a little wild. yet, the occasion left you stuck between a simple cropped top and jeans or your favorite dress, which felt a bit too extravagant.

of course you had tons of clubbing clothes with you, but you couldn't wear those. you soon enough realized they weren't regular people who worked in offices, and now that you knew charles even had fans it was all a lot more complicated. so where do people, who seem to be famous, take the girl that's stuck sharing a room with their friend?

that's when your white skirt caught your eye. it hugged you figure perfectly as if made specifically for you to use it. a quick search revealed the white, long sleeved top you'd thrown into the bag last minute. together, they formed the ideal clothing for the night ahead.

this may not have been part of your initial plans, but you were determined to make the most of it and fulfill your primary goal for this trip — meeting new people.

you step out of the bathroom, fully prepared to head out to wherever pierre decides to take you. he lounges on the bed, engrossed in his phone until you approach and gently pat his knee.

"get up." you instruct him, and his gaze sweeps up and down your body. it's only then that you take notice of his outfit – light blue jeans paired with a simple white shirt. it's casual yet an excellent choice.

you briefly wonder if you might be overdoing, but the thoughts quickly dissipate. "you certainly know how to dress for a night out in melbourne." he says, referencing your previous conversation.

"i wasted a considerable amount of time picking out these clothes," you admit and motion for him to rise so you can tidy the bed.

in a matter of minutes, your suitcase has been stowed away, and your phone now rests securely in your purse.

"what are you in the mood for dinner?" he inquires as you leave the room behind, ensuring everything is clean and ready for charles' girl later.

"anything," you reply, your hand instinctively moving to your stomach. "literally anything, i'm starving." you add, emphasizing your hunger.

"alright then, we’re going for italian" he decides, and you nod in agreement, already imagining the delectable Italian dishes that await, making your stomach growl even louder.

after returning to the room, well past 3 a.m., you tiptoed in to find charles cocooned in the sheets, presumably asleep. you quietly went to your suitcase, took your pajamas, and moved to the bathroom. after changing, you removed all you makeup, getting your face clean before heading out to bed. you hadn't put on that much, but you didn't like to sleep with it.

with hushed movements, you fetched your charger and silenced your phone, choosing to ignore your friend's texts.

the night had exceeded your expectations. initially hesitant when they suggested going out with pierre, who by then was a complete stranger, you eventually embraced the idea of this little escape.

pierre took you to a charming restaurant that couldn't be more your vibe. the ambiance, delicious food, and nice people made it a really great experience. you mentally thanked whatever god made you go out with this french stranger.

after getting to know each other a bit, you both headed to a club where you met a lot of new people, including some of pierre's friends. you couldn't have been happier about skipping that sleep.

as you slipped under the blankets, a voice startled you, "it's past three."

whispering, you responded to charles, "i thought you were asleep."

"i'm not, but it's past three," he repeated, his voice heavy with sleepiness.

"yeah, i know." you said, already nestled comfortably in bed.

"i told pierre to bring you back at two so you could rest; i've been waiting."

"oh, i met some of his friends and stayed a bit longer." you explained, turning your back to him. "are these sheets fresh?"

he chuckled softly, "yes. which friends did you meet?"

"a lot of people which i can't remember the names now. his girlfriend kika, a goddess. and some guy named lindo, landon, i think that's his name." you replied, still unsure of the pronunciation.

charles laughed at your attempt, "his name is lando. no 'i' or 'n'"

"not too far off," you quipped.

"if you say so..."

"oh, I have a question for you," you turned to face him, even if the room was in absolute darkness and you couldn't see a thing. "what do you guys work with? there were bodyguards and security procedures all night. i couldn't understand a damn thing."

an "oh" lingers in the air for a while. this was a topic the monegasque wanted to avoid as much as possible. he knew that you would figure it out, eventually, he just wanted to stick with "charles, the normal (french) dude" for a little longer.

"we're formula one drivers," he confesses. you burst into laughter. "i'm serious. i drive for ferrari, and pierre drives for alpine."

"shut up! you know lewis hamilton in person?" you didn't know much about motorsports, but c'mon, everyone knows lewis. "i do, actually." he's puzzled about why that was your first question.

"i recognized the logo on your shirt earlier. my brother's a fan, but i thought you were here just to watch the race."

"in a way, i am, just from a different perspective," he jokes. "how's your brother going to react when you tell him you're sharing a room with charles leclerc?"

"go back to sleep, charles leclerc." you tease, struggling to pronounce his name correctly.

"don't ever try that again." he laughs, turning his back to you.

"oh shut up." you playfully retorted.

you found yourself leaping onto your bed without bothering to check if charles was already there as night fell. meeting new people was exciting, but reuniting with old friends held a special charm. reconnecting with people ranked in the top three of your favorite things to do, even though it could be quite exhausting.

to be totally fair, you were tired because of the entire week you had just gone through. completing 26 out of 43 items on your bucket list was not easy, but you managed it all within a week and a day.

sharing the room with charles turned out to be much more enjoyable than expected. he was not only a genuinely nice guy but also a source of constant entertainment. when you went to bed, boredom was never an option as charles would introduce you to new games you'd never heard of and make you learn them to play with him.

it was really easy to get along with him, and you understood that as time passed and you were getting closer. sharing a room became something you no longer detested.

suppressing the urge to surrender to sleep, you got up to change and the next moments blurred together. all you could recall was your roommate entering a little while after you.

that’s until, in the middle of the night, your phone erupted with numerous notifications.

“geez, are you famous or something?” charles mumbled, awakened by the noise.

“it’s on your side, please turn it down." you groaned, covering your ears with a pillow. he reached for your phone but accidentally read one of the 47 notifications.

"happy birthday? is it your birthday?" he asked.

you buried your face in the pillow as more notifications poured in. "just turn that down," you demanded. "I love my friends, but this is too much." you knew they were doing it on purpose because of the lack of communication. this was their way of reminding you that you couldn’t be rid of them for so much time.

“it’s your birthday?” he inquired, sitting up.

“yeah, officially 22 now!” you replied, cursing the friends responsible for your rude awakening. exhausted, you had forgotten that your 6-hour nap was meant to be a quick one.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” charles exclaimed, throwing himself into an enthusiastic yet somewhat ungraceful hug. you laughed and thanked him. "why didn't you mention it earlier?"

“it didn’t come up.” you said, returning the hug.

"and do you have any plans for today?" he asked, returning to his original position.

"not really. i thought i might visit some places here in melbourne," you answered, rubbing your eyes.

"do you want to come watch the race then? consider it my birthday gift. if you'd mentioned it earlier, i would've prepared something better." the driver offered.

"i suppose the tickets must be sold out. have you seen how many people are here these past few days? there are no rooms since last week." you informed him.

"and you think I'd let you watch from the stands? no way. you'll… i mean, you would be in the Ferrari garage." he said with conviction.

"that sounds boring." you complain.

"is that a yes?" he asked, seeing a glimmer of a smile in your eyes. "i'll do my best to win, just for you."

“isn’t that your job?” you teased.

"yes, but doing it for you adds a little extra pressure," he admitted. you nodded in agreement, and he reclined again. "now, go to sleep. tomorrow is your big day."

"big day," you mimicked in a comical male voice, turning on your side. "thank you, charles."

"yeah, no problem." he replied. you couldn’t see him now, but you knew he was wearing a smile, and it made you smile too.

"wake up." you heard, your senses slowly returning. as you opened your eyes, you found kika, pierre's girlfriend, looking down at you.

what is it with people waking you up? it's always someone new.

"hey. it's time to get ready." even though your head was a big question mark, you did as she asked and sat up. she sat right before you.

"did charles sent you?" you inquired.

"no, he just told me you'd be coming to the race and since we've met that other night, i thought i would come to make you some company." she replied with a warm smile. "happy birthday, girl." she opened her arms for you and you embraced her immediately.

"thank you." you murmured into the hug. "do you want to get ready together?" you proposed. "i'm going to need some guidance."

"of course." her smile was the most beautiful one you had ever seen and it made your heart melt. "i'll just have to leave you alone with all the birthday wishes to get something to wear, and i'll be back soon."

"okay, see you in a bit." as she left, the first thing you did was grab your phone and start replying the overwhelming (and exaggerated) number of messages from your friend group. after that, you called your brother, not only because he asked so but also to let him know where you would be spending the day.

when kika returned, you were on the phone with your mother, crying your heart out. she loved you so much, and her words never failed to touch your soul.

"i love you too, mum." you whispered and ended the call. francisca smiled at you from the other side of the room. "come on, let's get ready." you wiped away your tears and got up from the bed.

yesterday, while charles slept peacefully, your mind had traveled through your current wardrobe to find the perfect outfit to wear. you knew it had to be ferrari red, but it also needed to make you feel special because it was your birthday.

in the end, you chose the red dress you had recently purchased. it seemed perfect for the occasion. as you shuffled through your clothes to retrieve it, kika had a chance to admire the piece.

"oh my god, that dress is going to look so good on you." she exclaimed excitedly and you both smiled as you made your way to the bathroom.

kika opted for a white button-up oversized shirt paired with pink pants that you discovered matched the colors of alpine's livery. She looked gorgeous, as always.

as you expected, your dress fell amazingly on you body, and it was incredibly comfortable. it wasn't an overly extravagant party dress, but it was just right for special occasions like your birthday.

"so, tell me what's charles doing here." the brunette asked when you both started getting your faces ready for make-up.

"charles?" she confirmed, and you glanced at your reflection in the mirror, somewhat oblivious to what she was referring to. "what's he doing here?" she repeated the question. "sleeping?" you half-answered, half-asked.

"yeah, of course, but why is he sleeping here." your eyes met hers through the mirror, and you noticed the smile on her lips.

"because it's his hotel room too, i guess."

"pierre told me that, but why is he still sleeping in this room if he has the one ferrari got him? he has one, doesn't he?" she asked.

"i don’t know." the truth was, you hadn't even thought about it. the monegasque had never told you, and you never asked, so you assumed this was indeed his only room.

"okay i’ll try again. what's going on between you two?" she smiled at you, a knowing look in her eyes.

"nothing," you replied as quickly as the question got to you. "seriously, tell me. you can trust me." she persisted, trying to get something out of you.

"i am telling you, kika." you laughed. in her mind, it was obvious that something was going on because there was no way the charles leclerc she knew would trade a king-sized bed in a five-star hotel for a cheap one he'd have to share.

"are you seriously telling me there's nothing going on between you two when he ditched a rich and attractive model for you, is lying to his team to come sleep in this room when he probably has a much better one waiting for him every night, and hasn't been bar-hopping to stay here teaching you how to play chess? Not to mention that he's taking you to a race to meet his team and friends. do you know how many girls he took to watch a race?" the portuguese counted on her fingers dramatically, as if accusing you of a proper crime.

you continued doing your makeup as she spoke, but you didn't miss a single word. in fact, you paid close attention to everything she said, the words penetrating your bones and getting to your brain automatically.

"yes, i am telling you that." you began and she sighed in response. "what do you mean he ditched a hot model for me?" curiosity filled your body when you heard that, you had to ask.

"that first night when we met, i know he was supposed to meet up with her because she was also a friend of mine, but he didn't show up. when i asked pierre about it, the only thing he said was your name." your face displayed confusion as you applied some contour to your cheek. you stoped what you were doing right away.

you were confused, yes. but you were also slightly irritated, because if the driver hadn't gone to meet that model, you could have slept through the night and avoided the exhausting day that followed.

"i assumed you guys had fancied each other, like love at first sight or something." you shook your head to deny it and picked up your pencil to blend the previously applied contour.

"that did not happen." another sigh left her throat and a question lingered in the tip of your tongue, ready to come out as soon as you opened your mouth. you weren't sure if you should ask, but you were certain you wanted an answer. "the thing you said about the number of girls he took to a race. how many?"

her lips immediately curved as if she said 'nothing may have happened, but you are interested', and of course you were.

who wouldn't be? charles was majestic, a genuinely good guy who knows how to treat people right, and he looked like the most adorable person in the world while sleeping. you would be lying if you said you didn't find him attractive, but he appeared too friendly for you to believe that he even considered flirting with you.

"two, and they were his girlfriends at the time." the smile never left her lips, but your mind was far from her grin.

you eventually finished getting ready, and so did she, a few seconds after. you chatted the whole way to the paddock, only stopping to catch your breath. kika apologized to you for pressing you to tell her what she wanted to hear, but you didn't mind; you knew you would do the same if the roles were reversed.

your social anxiety flared up when francisca had to go in a different direction to reach the alpine garage, but it quickly dissipated when your eyes found a familiar face approaching you with a smile.

charles hugged you once he was close enough and whispered a quiet "hey." he was well aware of how risky it was to show affection in public, especially with all the shit press would give him and possibly even give you. let's just say that he didn't really care.

he guided you to the garage, where you met carlos sainz, his teammate, and bumped into lando, whom you had met on your first night in australia.

meeting lando brought back all the thoughts kika had shared earlier, and those thoughts stayed with you.

charles must have mentioned your birthday to his team because every person you passed by wished you a happy day. you graciously smiled and thanked them, walking by his side.

he briefly introduced you to everything you needed to know and hugged you goodbye when he had to go. you snapped a lot of pictures to send to your brother, and when the race started, you paid close attention to every moment.

the headphones made it harder to zone out as you normally would but you appreciated that. being new to this world, you didn't understand a single word you heard, but that didn't stop you from trying.

all you knew was that the team was incredibly pleased with charles and carlos's performance today. It was evident from their tone and the broad smiles on their faces.

the spark in their eyes intensified when charles overtook the last driver, securing his lead in the race. from what someone told you, a first and fourth-place finish was a significant achievement for scuderia ferrari, and you could know it was true by the fans' excitement.

both ferrari drivers managed to maintain their positions, finishing the race with what appeared to be an outstanding result. you weren't entirely sure what you were cheering for, but you were genuinely happy.

you celebrated with the team and watched the podium ceremony from a distance, still uncertain about where you should be and how to act. you applauded the number 16 and engaged in discussions about his performance with people who had a stake in the matter. from what you heard, he was a really good driver.

people all around you started to move to one direction, and you followed them with your gaze to find the one and only race winner already looking at you. he paused to chat and celebrate with his team, before moving up to you.

opening your arms for him, you embraced him, smiling from ear to ear, genuinely happy for his achievement, even if you didn't fully grasp the significance of a win.

"this one was for you. happy birthday." he whispered in your ear while still holding you close. "thank you, frenchie, and congratulations." you laughed into his shoulder. he playfully protested against your nickname for him but couldn't help but laugh too.

you were engrossed in conversation with him when suddenly, pierre and kika arrived with a cake. everyone in the tifosi garage began singing the "happy birthday" song.

your cheeks flushed, matching the color of your dress within seconds, and you covered your smile with your hands. you were genuinely grateful for these people who didn't even know you but were singing and clapping for you.

the cake they brought was adorned with all your favorite flowers, and now you understood charles' early morning question. as if he could read your thoughts, he approached you, smiling, and hugged you sideways while still singing with his weird accent.

pierre had came closer and at the end of the song you were able to blow out the candles. the smiles on their faces enchanted you, how they all seemed genuinely happy for you, even though it was the first time they had set their eyes on you.

they arranged a table in which pierre placed the cake, and someone handed you a knife to cut it. you, of course, offered the first slice to charles, not only because he knew you best but also because of everything he had done for you. all of this exceeded your expectations.

when you had decided to come to australia to spend some time alone, you could never have imagined what awaited you. not only did you meet new people, but you had also made friends, or at least one friend.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles #leclerc #driver x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc 16 #formula 1 #formula one #formula one story #charles leclerc au #pierre gasly #francisca cerqueira gomes #kika gomes

[valstranquility]

DELULU - DR3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x mexican!singer!reader

summary: in which a fan thinks daniel ricciardo and yn ln are dating. crazy right?

face claim: becky g

notes: i love these!!! pls ignore that it’s not a grammy and PLS ignore ll*tg*t

APRIL 3, 2022

liked by karolg, landonorris, and 8,974,362 others

yourusername you guys are never going to hear the end of me 🧡

view all 11,283 comments

user4 she really went home with the best 3 awards

recordlabel We are so proud of you!! 👏

user5 I am so proud of you! user6 te lo mereces ❤️❤️

landonorris so happy for you

user7 what is lando doing here ??

user8 REINOTAAA 👑

APRIL 6, 2022

APRIL 8, 2022

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and 13,387,398 others

yourusername danny these past two years have been so amazing. you are the best person i have ever met and i am so glad i get to be called yours. i am so ready to finally show you off to the world. i know you are going to kick ass this weekend, just know i will always be in your corner 🧡

comments have been limited

danielricciardo i love you so fucking much, thank you for being here.

#— daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x fem!reader #daniel ricciardo x f!reader #daniel ricciardo x mexican!reader #mexican!reader #daniel ricciardo x singer!reader #daniel ricciardo au #daniel ricciardo smau #driver x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo fanfic

[ladymarvel27]

Live for someone | Carlos Sainz | (i)

Werewolf!Carlos Sainz x Witch!Reader

Summary: Years ago, you lost the love of your life. But when he has returned back, why is he hostile towards you?

Word count: 1.2k+

Warnings: Supernatural creatures, blood, injuries, mentions of smut, brief smut. English isn't my first language either, so apologies for errors if any.

A/n: What can I do? He gives off so much werewolf vibes that I had to write one.

Part 1 Part 2

Your eyes were heavily watered. He was standing in front of you, real and alive. For a moment, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

How It could be real?

You saw him disappearing into flames. The love of your life left you alone in this cruel cruel world. There was a strong bond between the two of you, despite being of different breeds. His big brown eyes always held his unconditional love for you.

But not today.

Today, his eyes held pure rage and hatred for you. You brought your hand forward to touch him, cup his cheek but it was soon dismissed on the way by his hand.

“Don’t touch me!” He snapped. Your smile dropped.

“Why, Carlos?” You asked as if you were begging.

“You are nothing more than a witch.” He answered as he walked away from you.

“I didn’t kill them.” You said, following him. “Those hybrids made it look like I did it. But I didn’t. The hybrids killed them.”

He was listening to you, his hands folded in front of his chest, but his eyes were down like he didn’t want to believe in anything you were saying.

You were searching for poison in the enemy's lair. You didn't expect yourself to run into someone you thought was dead.

The vampires had infiltrated and had been trying to take over your city. You thought they all were annihilated years ago when you had burned them to ashes with the same flames that had consumed the love of your life. Your destined mate, who has nothing but hatred for you.

You heard a distant foot approaching. He immediately grabbed you and locked both of you in a storage room. You were about to scream in pain when his hand was pressing on your shoulder. The footsteps outside faltered.  In an instant, he covers your mouth. You crossed your fingers to slow the volume of both of your hearts. He relaxes, removes his hands from you and moves away. The footsteps were now walking away and seemed to be gone. You allowed your heartbeats to be back to normal.

Suddenly, the door was banging. He immediately came in front of you in a protective stance. You know you and both his strengths combined will be negligible in front of whatever was banging the door.

Could this be your end? At least you were going to die alongside the love of your life. The love of your life who was filled with hatred for you.

The door broke down and opened, revealing a woman.

“Carlos!” It was your best friend. “Is this real?” She was the one in whose arms you cried when you thought your wolf-boy died. Your estimation was right because she was stronger than both of you. But, at least you were safe now.

“Yes,” was all Carlos could say.

“Y/n?”

“She is with me.”

“I am here,” You spoke. “I got a vial,” you pointed to the poison vial you had in your hand.

“Good job.” She turned to Carlos, “I hope you’re not a hybrid.”

“I am just a werewolf.” He replied.

She nodded. “Let’s get you both out of here.”

"I am going to get some groceries. Close the door behind, you two are the most wanted this time." You heard her saying to him before she left.

You took off your shirt. The open wound was throbbing with pain. It looked even more disgusting in the mirror. You didn't heal like that anymore.

You jerked when you made eye contact with him in the mirror as he entered the room. You immediately took a towel to cover your torso. "My apologies." He immediately apologised when he noticed you were shirtless and was about to leave until he noticed the wound. He came and stood behind you. Placing a hand gently on the wound, he asked, "Who did this to you?" You made eye contact with him. "The vampires." You replied. "And, did you see the injuries on your back?" You half turned to give it a look. "Lay on the bed." He ordered.

He closed the door behind him and came to you.

"How did you survive?" You asked out of nowhere. "Like how those vampires did. They captured me but didn't kill me." He answered. "They tortured me to near death instead."

"What else did they do?" You asked. "What else did you see?"

“They used to whip us with wolfsbane-coated whips.” He replied. “Some either died due to poisoning or due to brutal torture.”

"And he didn't, how lucky I am." You mumbled to yourself. "This wasn't your luck." He said and you jerked. You forgot he has superhearing. "I wanted to live. I knew if I were able to get out of there, a woman would be waiting for me." You turned to look at him. "But I expected you to move on." He removed his hands from your back. "You're done."

You got up to sit straight on the bed, wrapping a towel around your torso to cover yourself. “I never moved on.” He got up and opened the closet. He took out a button-up shirt. It was a powdered blue one. He always looked so good in them. He came near you and presented it to you. “Wear it.”

“I am fine.”

“You’re uncomfortable.” You sighed lightly and took it. You put it on and unwrapped the towel. The fabric when rubbed on your shoulder made you hiss.

“Are you fine?” He asked.

“Yes, just rubbing.” The wolfsbane whip. They must have left scars on him.

“Did you heal?” You asked.

“What?”

“The wolfsbane scars. They whipped you with wolfsbane-coated whips. Did they heal?”

He hesitated for a moment, but shook his head to answer, “No, they didn’t.”

“Show me.” You said but he started to walk away. You immediately grabbed his arm, “Please.” You requested again, trying to give him those puppy dog eyes, hoping that would make him melt.

You ran your fingers gently over his back filled with purple scars from wolfsbane. His breath hitched when a finger poked a little. Your eyes moistened. Why did he have to tolerate all this?

“Thank you,” you spoke up.

“For what?”

“For living for me.” You replied. “For tolerating all this torture just to survive. For me.”

“And thank you,” he turned around, “for waiting for me.”

“Carlos…” you moaned as you cupped his cheeks. He grabbed you by your waist to pull you closer. You grabbed him by his neck and closed the gap between him and your lips.

He pulled you onto his lap and his lips moved to your neck. You moaned loudly and wrapped your legs around his waist, with a tight grip of your hands on his shoulders to support yourself.

Your soft moans mixed with his loud groan as you both reached your climax. He collapsed next to you. You pulled over the duvet and turned over to close your eyes. Your eyes were too tired to keep open and your body was exhausted after the intercourse you just had with him. You heard him shuffling in the sheets. His one arm spooned you to his chest. He slowly kisses your eyes which lulls you into sleep.

Maybe he has forgiven you. All you need as confirmation is to hear those exact words from him.

A/n: Tell me in the comments if I should write a 2nd part. Thanks to @faithm120601 for continuing to write the supernatural fics or I wouldn't had the motivation to write this one, I've been trying to write these for the last 5 months. Also thanks to @samspenandsword and @saradika for the dividers.

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #f1 smut #formula 1 x reader #driver x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz vázquez de castro #werewolf!carlos sainz x witch!reader #werewolf!carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz au

[stupidfuckingwindow]

You // Driver

Tw: NSFW, Driver eats you out. That's it, that's the fic. He's also a stalker, but you're into it.

Driver holding you down was inspired by @silverlynx87 in the goosecord 🔥❤️

Word count: 598

His gloved hands cup your knees, slowly pulling your thighs apart. Momentarily, his fingers flex against your legs, slightly shifting his grip so he can better hold you open.

Driver plucks the toothpick from his lips, flicking it somewhere with little thought or regard directed towards the action. And, while he's still almost fully clothed, you aren't. There's no barrier between him and you. The raging erection he's harboring visibly strains against his jeans, and you're sure he's already cum just from watching you undress, based off of the way he can't keep still.

His hands lightly tremble against your thighs as he slots himself between them, breathing lightly hitching up in anticipation.

Not even ten minutes ago, you'd caught him rummaging through your drawers, your panties balled up tightly in hand. You've had your suspensions about the quiet neighbor a few doors down, but this is your first time actually catching him in the act.

As if seeing him everywhere you went wasn't already enough.

He hasn't taken his eyes off your face once, pupils blown out and heavily fixated on you. Driver's breath is warm against your exposed cunt, coming out in hot puffs like he's an overheating machine and trying to cool down.

His hands slide down from your thighs down to your hips, crowding closer and hooking your legs over his shoulders. You can hear him swallow harshly, breathing changing again into something shakier, like something's just wracked him.

Driver's shocked, in all honesty. Not that he'd ever admit it.

He'd been expecting anger, fear, confusion. Not being dropped to his knees and finally getting to see you in nothing. But that's what he'd wanted, isn't it? Going through all this effort to watch you because he'd wanted you. Wanted you so badly that he'd gotten caught in his haste. He hadn't heard the jingling of keys or your doorknob being turned.

His cock almost painfully aches between his legs, feeling trapped. Cum soaks through his boxers and sticks the fabric to his own thighs and abdomen. The usual familiarity of his jacket is now too hot for his skin, just barely restraining him. Though, without it, he's sure he would've already lost all semblance of control by now and would be fucking you against the wall.

He wets his lips nervously, peering at you through long, pretty lashes. His hair is slightly tousled, a few blond stands framing his face as opposed to being tucked in their normal spot.

Driver watches you, still, as his left hand glides over your lower stomach, holding you down as a precaution. Once he's sure you won't be squirming too much, he finally leans forward to softly suck at your clit. A muffled groan instantly leaves him at the feeling and taste, the sound vibrating against your core.

His eyes almost roll into the back of his skull, and they flutter shut from the pleasure he's giving you. The sinful moan that leaves you already has his dick twitching, and his hips buck, searching for any semblance of friction that he can get.

He pulls off your clit with a quiet, lewd popping noise, moving his head down to give attention to your centre. Driver's tongue dips between your folds, flattening his tongue to lick a long stripe upwards.

When your thighs threaten to close around his head, he lets them; desperate to feel you more.

When his eyes open again, they're back on you, studying how your face contorts from pleasure. The sight makes his hips rock against nothing, and he's already cumming, again.

Fuck.

#ryan gosling #drive (2011) #driver #n.sfw. #driver x reader #driver x you #driver smut #ryan gosling x you #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling smut #drive 2011 #He's so hot what the fuck

[ken-dom]

Gloves

Driver x afab!reader

1.1k words

Summary: Driver takes you somewhere secluded to make a move you’ve been fantasising about

Author’s notes: I can’t stop thinking about his damn hands ok? Gloves. Hands. God.

I originally posted this to my main blog but I'm re-posting all my work here to have everything in one place due to an unresolved tagging issue on my main

Warnings/content: NSFW, glove kink, making out, semi-public (it’s in the car), fingering, reader has a vagina, hinted premature ejaculation, hinted thought of a blow job if you squint

The moonlight filtering through the windscreen highlighted the curve of his beautiful nose, your eyes dragging up to his unreadable blues, shining back at you through the shadows.

He was, as always, seemingly emotionless, watching you without thought or intention colouring his expression. But you could feel it. A thrill ran though your body and settled at your core.

Your heart began to beat faster as you tried to catch your breath; you weren’t sure exactly when you lost it, but you were practically panting, trying to disguise it in case you’d got it all wrong. But for what other reason would he bring you here and park in such a secluded spot?

Something shifted in the air, then. Whatever you were feeling from him intensified and before you had a chance to wonder what exactly had caused it, his lips were sliding against yours, heavy but slow.

God, he was a good kisser. As intense as his gaze, yet kind of needy. His tongue pressed into your mouth, coaxing yours to glide against it, and you moaned involuntarily. Too loudly.

He didn’t make a single sound as his gloved hands slid from where they’d found your waist to under your ass, pulling you to him and onto his lap. The manoeuvre broke the kiss, but only briefly, and in that short reprieve you chuckled, feeling heady.

He didn’t laugh with you. But he was the one who pushed forward to thrust his tongue back between your swollen lips, so you didn’t doubt his desire.

His breath was heavy each time he paused to catch it, and you wondered whether to try and take his jacket off. Would he want that? Is that what this was?

You couldn’t think too much, though, or for too long. Not with his arousal pressing against your inner thigh so tantalisingly. And certainly not when his still-gloved hand began to toy with the fastening on your jeans.

He broke away to find your eyes again, and when they locked on yours, you gasped. You’d never seen him like this. You’d imagined it plenty of times, but this was so much better.

��This ok?’ he murmured, and you didn’t know better you’d think he was nervous.

‘Yes,’ you breathed, your hand moving to help him unfasten your zip, while his other hand was busy caressing your lower back.

He nodded, eyes falling down to where his fingers were slipping past the elastic of your underwear.

You weren’t sure if it was inexperience or simply the awkward position causing him to fumble slightly, but it barely mattered. He knew when the leather covered tips of his fingers found your sweet spot because you moaned a different type of moan and you dropped forward, your forehead pressing to his and your breath hot against his face.

He smirked, pleased with himself, massaging slow circles as you hummed and rocked your hips against his measured ministrations.

Fuck. You could probably cum right now, before he’d even pushed a finger inside. Before he’d even had the chance to fuck you. Why did he have to keep his gloves on? Your filthiest fantasy, something you felt you’d be too shy to share with him, and he was giving it to you right now without ever having to exchange a word about it.

Maybe it was his fantasy too. Maybe he kept them on when he thought about you like this.

Your fingertips drove into his shoulders and he let out a heavy but delighted little sigh, fingers exploring lower until he was finally sliding a finger into you. You guided him with your hips again, rocking against his gloved hand to drag his finger against your g spot.

He watched you intently, memorising every reaction your blissed out face gave him, noticing every tremble, listening for every sound of pleasure. It was that that brought you over the edge. That strong, silent stare of his that made your core clench every time.

As your walls tightened around his pumping, elegant finger and you ground against the leather on his palm, he finally made a sound, too.

You almost missed it, your own pleasured moans echoing around the car. It was a small, ‘Mmh-’ and it was weak and whiny.

As you collapsed completely onto him, you wondered if maybe he’d cum too. You hadn’t touched him. You hadn’t even pressed yourself against his obviously aching cock. But he was panting and trembling and shifted uncomfortably in his seat beneath you.

You didn’t ask.

The hand at your lower back trailed up to tilt your chin so he could kiss you again. Gentle and lingering, without tongue this time.

‘You alright?’

‘Yeah,’ you sighed. ‘Are you?’

‘Let’s get you home.’

And then you were back in the passenger seat, body turned to watch dreamily as the soft light from passing street lamps illuminated his handsome profile.

He only turned to face you again when he’d pulled up outside your place. A ghost of a smile graced his pretty lips for the briefest of moments, proud at how sleepy he’d made you, and with only his fingers. He was feeling pretty tired too. But you didn’t need to know that.

He removed his gloves then, biting at the slick-coated finger he’d fucked you with to drag the first one off. He flexed his fingers, watching them with a satisfied curl of his lips before he walked around to your side of the car, offering his arm to walk you to your front door.

There, you faced one another in comfortable silence, and you wondered whether you should lean up to kiss him again. You did smile, though, blushing a little, and he blinked his gaze away.

You inhaled deeply, biting your lips together as you got up the courage to do it, pressing your lips to his cheek.

‘Thank you for tonight,’ you whispered in his ear before dropping back onto your heels and finding your keys.

He nodded again, uttering a coy, ‘See you tomorrow,’ and casually popping a toothpick into his mouth.

You remained on your step, watching as he drove off into the night, your legs still trembling a little.

You licked your lips.

Tomorrow, you thought, would be all about him.

#not s f w 💀 #driver x reader #drive 2011 #drive (2011) #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling #drive fic #driver x reader fic #drive smut #driver smut #driver x you #driver x y/n #driver x reader smut #ken-dom writes

[tomhollandisabae]

secrets - lewis hamilton x reader

masterlist

fandom; formula one

summary; you and lewis have been in a secret relationship for quite some time now, trying to hide from your father toto wolff, but it all was revealed one way or another

warnings; fluff, mature language, smut (foul language, fingering, oral f and m!receiving, 69, p in v, unprotected sex, daddy kink) [18+ MINORS D.N.I.]

words; 4.1k

a/n; requests are open

The sunlight that was making its way through the dark curtains of your bedroom shined brightly on your skin. However, it woke you up from your peaceful slumber and you stretched on your bed while rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. As you turned on your side you noticed the beautiful man, that had been accompanying you on your bed for the past six months, still sleeping.  

You couldn’t help, but admire the way his dark- littered with tattoos- arm was showing from under the soft duvet. He was laying on his stomach with the blanket hanging low on his lower back, giving you a nice view of his muscular back.  

You also noticed the small scratches that you had created on his skin the previous night and just like that, flashbacks from your wonderful evening pop into your mind. You had enjoyed a delicious dinner that you both had made and after you watched a movie together you had found yourselves tangled between your bed sheets with him pleasuring you in every way possible. 

His hands had explored every single inch of your soft skin and his lips had kissed every part of it. He was the only man that was able to make you feel that way. Every time you saw him, butterflies erupted in your stomach, your heart was speeding up and your breath was cutting short.  

Lewis was the only man that you wanted in your house, in your bed and in between your legs. 

You had been dating for the past, at least, six months and you couldn’t be more grateful about it. However, you both had to be very careful because there were some certain people that wouldn’t agree with your relationship.  

One of them being your father, Toto Wolff.  

Lewis and your dad were not only colleagues, but also great friends so, he was feeling like he was taking advantage of his daughter, you. You had tried so many times to reassure him that that wasn’t true and you truly loved each other too much to consider something like that. Yet, that didn’t mean that your father wouldn’t go feral if he had found out about you two.  

Drowned in your thoughts you didn’t notice Lewis opening his eyes and starring back at you. 

“What are you thinking about?” he said in a horsed voice. 

“Good morning to you too” you chuckled and leaned down to peck his lips. 

“Morning baby” he pouted as soon as your lips left his, but didn’t waste any more time and wrapped his arm around your waist bring you once again down on him and connected your lips. 

The usual butterflies made their way in your stomach again and you were feeling too excited. His hand travelled downwards and grabbed firmly on your ass cheek as he pressed you against him, making you notice his hard bulge from under the blanket. 

You moaned at the feeling and he took his chance entering his tongue in your mouth and started exploring it just like he has done countless times before. Sooner or later, you found yourself on top of him, straddling his hips and pressing your soft skin against his. 

Lewis squeezed your ass once again as he bit on your bottom lip and you grinded your sex against his hard cock and he groaned at the thought of having your lower lips rolling over his dick. 

“Fuck y/n” he breathed out and threw his head back as you took matters into your own hands and lifted the duvet while you got on your knees between his legs. 

Without saying anything else, you grabbed his length with your one hand - as the other stroked his balls. You saw his strong chest rising and falling as he tried to calm his breathing down, yet you didn’t let him do so as you stuck out your tongue and licked teasingly his tip, before wrapping your plump lips around his head swirling your tongue on him. 

“don’t tease baby” he said as he grabbed your hair, forcing you on his dick. 

You moaned around him and relaxed the back of your throat as you tried to take him in deeper, while trying to breath at the same time. 

“Shit y/n, your mouth feels like heaven” he said between pants as his own mouth had fallen open wide. 

He started thrusting his hips upwards, slowly in the begging letting you know that if you weren’t comfortable with it, he would stop, but instead you sucked even harder making him thrust his cock into your mouth faster. 

You had placed both your hands on each of his thighs trying to keep yourself still as he fucked your throat and you started moving your head up and down on him. 

“God y/n I'm not gonna last long” he breathed out. 

One of your hands made their way on your sex and begun rubbing soft circles against your swollen clit. You hollowed your cheeks even more on him and you swore that you could cum just by the view of his hard – sweaty chest moving up and down. 

You entered one finger inside you and curved it while you started pumping it in and out of you with your hips following the same rhythm as you were practically riding your fingers. 

“Fuck baby... are you touching yourself?” he asked while looking down at you and you moaned around him “fuck come here” he instructed. 

You unwrapped your lips from around his cock, making a string of his precum mixed with your saliva fall onto your chin and then your exposed breasts. Immediately Lewis grabbed your hand and dragged you upwards turning you around. 

“Lewis...” you asked shocked as his face was right under your pussy. 

In all the months of your relationship, you had never tried to do something like that and it took you aback. However, you couldn’t think for much longer as his lips made contact with your wet folds while his tongue travelled from your entrance to your clit making you roll your eyes backwards and grind your sex against him. 

As Lewis continued to feast on your sex you lowered yourself on top of him, took his cock in your hand and started stroking him. His hands made their way on both your ass cheeks as he spread them apart, so that he could have a better access to you. You felt his tongue at your entrance and sooner or later he pushed inside you. He started thrusting his tongue in and out of you as his thumb begun stroking your clit in a steady pace. 

“Fuck Lewis” you cried out and wrapped your lips around him taking him in now all in once, not being in the mood to tease him anymore. 

You began pumping him with your hand as you moved your head up and down on him. 

“Shit Lewis” you detached your lips from his dick as you felt two of his fingers entering you “please fuck my mouth again” you begged and you heard him moaning against you. 

As you took him back in your mouth, he wasted no time and started thrusting himself in upwards while you grinded yourself against his face. 

“Shit...oh fuck y/n” you felt his hot breath against you as he pumped his fingers even faster inside you. 

The hot sensation he always was making you feel, made its way again in your lower stomach again and tears started spilling from your eyes as you knew that your hight was approaching. 

“Fuck baby I can feel you squeezing my fingers” he said and you felt the tip of his tongue against your ass hole, think which made you realize a whimper around his cock “cum for me baby” he commanded and you couldn’t hold back any longer. 

As your high hit you in waves of pleasure, you had to let go of him as you gasped against his pubic bone. 

“fuck” you cried out as he kept on pumping his fingers inside you for as long as you were riding out your climax. 

A few moments later he pulled his digits out of you and pecked your sensitive clit as he turned you back around and settled you on his lap, before rolling around on the bed, so that you were laying on your back. 

“You always taste so heavenly baby, wanna try?” he asked showing you his fingers and you nodded. 

He inserted hi digits in your mouth and you wrapped your lips around him as you started sucking on them tasting yourself. 

“you’re so sexy y/n” he said a while later as he grabbed his dick in his hand and run his tip all over your wet folds. 

“mhmm” you moaned around his fingers. 

“Fuck... what do you want baby?” he asked, but obviously you couldn’t speak so he continued “do you want me to fuck you baby?” he asked again and you nodded “do you want my cock inside you?” you gasped around his digits as he pushed slightly his cock inside you, but pulled out immediately reassuming on running teasing his length against your overstimulated now sex. 

“Do you think you deserve daddy’s cock, huh baby?” he raised as eyebrow. 

“mmhm yeeea” you tried to say. 

“Hmm... do you think you’re a good girl baby?” he proceeded to ask as he finally took his fingers out of your mouth. 

“Yes, please daddy please fuck me” you cried out as tears were now running down on your cheeks. 

“mhhm” he crashed his lips with yours and thrusted his cock inside you making you scream against his mouth. 

He didn’t waste any more time, though, and began pumping his hard length in and out of you in a fast pace. 

“Fuck baby you’re always so tight, always taking daddy’s cock so nice, aren’t you?” he questioned as he grabbed your jaw and you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“Yes daddy yes!! love your cock so much” you breathed out as a euphoric feeling surrounded you. 

“that’s right baby... fuck squeezing me so nice” he lowered his head in the crook of your neck and started sucking as the hand that was on your jaw made its way on your right breast massaging it. 

“Oh my god!! Fuck daddy... I'm gonna--” you tried to say but your legs started shaking around his middle as he picked up his pace. 

“You can hold on a little longer” he demanded as he bit down on the mark he had created on your neck. 

“ohh fuck” you moaned as you felt on of his hands now pressing firmly against your lower stomach making you gasp. 

“Fuck baby... can feel myself inside you” he groaned against you. 

“Please please please daddy please let me cum” you cried out and clenched your walls around him. 

“Let go baby, cum for me” he finally said and your high crushed over you right away as you came all around his cock with him following right behind you, spilling his seed inside you. 

“Fuck y/n” he said your name like a prayer and crushed his body against yours, trying to catch his breath. 

“That was a hell of a morning” he smiled after a while pecking your lips. 

“mhhm I feel like I need to sleep again now” you exclaimed with your eyes closed. 

“Sleep baby. I'll be right here” he kissed your cheek sweetly and you lost yourself in the darkness. 

A week later you had to travel to Monza for the Italian grand prix. 

You already knew that Lewis was staggered due to the fact that he had receive a penalty and had to start from last, so you didn’t want to let him alone and so you decided to surprise him. 

You told your dad that you wanted to come to watch the race so he had everything prepared for you and after the taxi that he had arranged for you dropped you of at your hotel, you found you room and took a quick shower after letting your father know that you had arrive safe. 

You knew that there was no chance that he would say anything to Lewis, after all he thought that you and Lewis were barely noticing each other throughout the season. Only if he knew... 

After your showered and got dressed you called a taxi and made your way to the paddock for the FP3 as it was already Saturday morning. Once you arrived there you tried to find your father while avoiding Lewis at the same time. 

“Hey dad” you greeted him once you saw him. 

“Hello honey, how was your flight?” he asked you as he hugged you and kissed your forehead. 

“It was nice, exhausting, but nice” you replied. 

“You shouldn’t have come this early, you should’ve stay at the hotel and sleep” he said. 

“No, I'm fine really. Afterall, I didn’t want to lose FP3” you explained and your father nodded. 

You looked around for a little bit, trying to spot a specific brit in the crowd. You had been looking around the garage for little bit, when you finally saw him making his way upstairs, probably going to his driver’s room. 

“Umm I have to go to the restroom” you exclaimed. 

“Sure honey, you know the way” he told you and just like that you started making your way upstairs. 

After a while, you had reached in front of Lewis’ driver’s room door and you finally knocked. 

“Come in” you heard him sighing. 

You silently opened the door and made your way inside where you found him sitting on the couch, legs spread and a hand over his head, covering his eyes, while the other one was resting on his thigh. 

“Good morning, sir Hamilton” you greeted him while biting your lip, after you closed the door behind you. 

He immediately took his hand off of his face and lifted his head to see you standing in the corner of his room. 

“y/n” he exclaimed in shock. 

“hi” you said and made your way towards him. 

Once you reached in front of him, he grabbed your hand and pulled you on top of him as you straddled his hips and he wrapped his arms around your waist while burying his head in the crook of your neck. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked after a while. 

“I thought I'd make your weekend better and after all I'm really bored all alone at home” you pouted your lips and he couldn’t help but peck them softly while smiling. 

“Does your dad know that you’re here?” he asked afterwards. 

“Obviously...” you said in a ‘duh’ way. 

“mmhm... you stay at the hotel, right?” he bit his lips and you knew right away where this was going. 

“Yes, I do, but there will be no funny business before the race.” you said. 

“y/n I really need y--” you cut him off. 

“No Lewis, we can sleep together, but nothing more than that. But on Sunday night if you have a nice race, I promise you, you can have your way with me” you told him while biting your lower lip. 

“y/n... I'm starting last, I don’t think that I'll succeed anything.” he sighed. 

“Lewis what the hell are you talking about? Just because this year’s car is awful, it doesn't mean that you’re not still the greatest driver out there. You can do this Lewis, even if you were driving the worst f1 car ever existed, I know that you will always find a way and get the best result that you could ever have.” you said while wrapping your arms around his neck hugging him. 

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” you heard him chuckling in your hair. 

“that’s why I'm here” you pecked his lips. 

“I love you” he told you and made your heart melt. 

“I love you too Lew” you smiled. 

Sunday had finally come around and it was time for the race to start. Indeed, as expected Lewis would be starring 19th as he had qualified fifth yesterday.  

Last night, you and Lewis had spent the entire time in his hotel room, having dinner and then watching a couple movies while having a light conversation as you had cuddled on his bed. 

Other than that, you tried to avoid each other on the paddock as usual, but he still stole a small kiss from you right before the race.  

Now the race was halfway through and Lewis had truly amazed you. After all, you knew that he still had it in him and that’s why you always believed in him.  

The race finally ended and Lewis had finished fifth. You couldn’t be happier about it. You knew that he was hoping for at least P3, but still from 19th to fifth with that car was amazing. 

As he made his way back to the garage, he smiled at you once he spotted you and you return it as you blowed him a kiss too. 

You had been waiting for your father and your mother to get back to the hotel, as Lewis had to finish with his interviews. 

“Hey sweetheart” you heard your father exclaiming as he approached with your mother. 

“Hey guys are you ready?” you smiled at them. 

“Yes of course, but we will not be going to the hotel right away” he told you and your eyes opened wide. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“Well, we wanted to celebrate tonight’s results with the drivers, but since George has already made plans with his girlfriend, we asked Lewis to come with us for dinner.” your eyes were about to fall off your head as you heard you mother talking. 

“I... umm okay” you gulped.  

The good thing was that either way, you would be spending your time with Lewis, yet the bad thing was that your parents would be there too. 

“Come on, we should leave now. Lewis will meet us there” your father said and you all made your way to the car. 

Once you arrived at the restaurant, the hostess led you to your table and you settled down while Lewis arrived a few minutes later.  

“Hello Lewis” your father greeted him and your mother followed right after. 

Your dad looked at you, letting you know that you had to greet him too and as awkward as you felt you tried to relax and turned to face Lewis who was already looking at you smiling. 

“hi” you said in a weak voice. 

“Hi y/n” he proceeded to hug you, but made sure he had hidden his face from your parents. 

“You look lovely sweetie” he whispered in your ear as he pecked your cheek and you tried to hold back your smile. 

When you all sat down on your seats and finally ordered, your father spoke; 

“So, Lewis, impressive race today, as always of course, but today felt somewhat special, didn’t it?” your father asked Lewis. 

“Well yes, with the right motive, everything does.” he replied and placed his hand on top of your thigh squeezing it lightly letting you know that he was referring to you, thing which made you slightly blush. 

“what’s your motive?” you dad raised his eyebrow. 

“Well, I have my eyes on that girl...” he chuckled. 

“Oh, I see” you father and your mother nodded. 

After your food had finally arrived, you started eating while keeping a small conversation with each other. 

“at least you have found someone Lewis, because y/n from here hasn’t even brought a male cat in our house” your mother looked over at you. 

“Mom...” you exclaimed while rolling your eyes. 

“What? It’s true, it’s been ages since we’ve seen you with someone” she complained. 

“I'm pretty sure that when she finds the right guy, she will bring him to you.” Lewis defended you. 

“I'm pretty sure that she has found that guy...” your father said and you lifted your head immediately to look at him. 

“What?” you asked shocked. 

“Well, the other day I was at your place and because it was too early in the morning, I decided to let myself in with the keys you have given me and let me tell you, I wish I had never done that.” he cleared his throat. 

“What? When was that?” you were still in a state of shock. 

“it’s not that long ago... I think it was this Tuesday morning.” he told you. 

Yours and Lewis’ eyes opened wide as you realised what your father was talking about. Tuesday morning you and Lewis had gone really wild and as flashbacks rushed through your mind, you felt your cheeks burning hot. 

“Dad...” you exclaimed. 

“I'm not judging. You are an adult now y/n, I just want to know if he treats you right.” he said and you sighed as you stole a glance over at Lewis who was already looking at you. 

“Yes, he treats me better than anyone else dad.” you bit on your bottom lip. 

“that’s nice to hear. So, what about you Lewis?” he turned to Lewis and you looked at him in confusion. 

“Me?” Lewis asked taken aback. 

“Yes, you. I was told that a girl was yesterday morning in your driver’s room.” you knew your father better than anyone else and you knew that he was up to something, but he couldn’t have known, could he? You had been extra careful with Lewis at the end of the day. 

“Umm I don’t know what you’re talking about...” Lewis gulped nervous. 

“Well, I came upstairs to search for y/n, because she had been gone for far too long and I was worried. I asked some people around if they had seen her, but no one had noticed her. Then I asked about you and they told me that you were in your driver’s room, but you were with some girl.” he explained. 

“It seems like they were wrong because I was alone” Lewis replied. 

“I don’t know about that, as a matter of fact when I passed your room, I heard you talking with someone and it was a she” your father raised his brow. 

“I...” Lewis was out of words and you couldn’t defend him too, because you really didn’t know what to say. 

“Now that I'm thinking about, that female voice... it sounded way too familiar.” shit shit shit, you thought. He had clearly caught up. 

“Dad...” you tried to speak, but he raised his hand motioning for you to stop talking. 

“For how much longer did you think that you could hide whatever is going on between you two from us?” he finally said and your mother nodded in agreement. 

“Toto...” Lewis tried to speak but was interrupted by your dad once again. 

“The thing is, what I heard... it sounded like you really meant the words you were saying, both of you.” he looked at you and then at Lewis “it really moved me how you y/n tried to cheer Lewis up, your words were so moving and you Lewis, the way I heard you telling my daughter that you loved her... I really can’t say or do anything to oppose you. So, you have my blessing.”  

By the time your father had stopped talking, tears had gathered up in your eyes and you couldn’t believe in your ears. He had actually given you his blessing. Now you didn’t need to hide behind closed doors to be with Lewis. You could be open in public with him and you could show him how much you loved him every single minute. 

“Toto...” “dad...” you and Lewis tried to say at the same time but stopped and looked at each other still in shock. 

“You don’t need to say anything. Me and Susie are going to leave now, because apparently, we have made other plans and don’t worry, dinner is on me” and just like that your parents bid you goodbye and you were left now alone with Lewis as you were still trying to comprehend what had just happened. 

“y/n...” Lewis tried to get your attention. 

“it’s... he knows... and he’s... he’s okay with it” you exclaimed as you turn to face Lewis beside you. 

“Yes, he is love and everything’s okay. We can have a normal relationship now.” he smiled at you as he wrapped his hand around your waist pulling you closer to him. 

“I love you so much Lewis” you cried as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him in a strong embrace. 

“I love too y/n... so much” he kissed the side of your forehead as he stroked softly your hair with his other hand. 

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x you #driver x reader

[elisysd]

4. If I'm being honest, feels like you don't even know me

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Dear Patience - Niall Horan

For once, he was not dreading going to the media pen. He was excited even. Nothing could bring him down. Not even your questions. To be honest, he didn’t know what mean questions you could ask him. Not aware of it, a smug smile appeared on his face and he made his way to you and was taken aback by your content smile. You were far from the disappointed image he had imagined you would be.

“First of all, congratulations for your podium, Charles.” you said and he couldn’t help the shock to be painted on his face. He stuttered, barely managing to thank her. He didn’t even know what he answered her and hoped he didn’t make a fool of himself.

The after race meeting followed by a quick celebration were over in a blink of an eye and, it was still smiling that he made his way out of the paddock. He saw you walking right next to Marion. He looked at you from afar. You were laughing after Marion showed you something on her phone.  Your colleague saw him and whispered something to your ear before motioning for him to come. He knew Marion very well, she had been one of the first journalists to follow him closely ever since he started to make a name for himself. She was someone important to him.

“How are you doing, Charles?” she asked softly.

“Amazing! Really. It was a nice weekend.” he replied, barely looking at her, too focused on you who were typing on your phone. Marion didn’t fail to notice his attitude towards you.

“I have a meeting with a PR officer from Haas, we’re trying to have Steiner in an interview” she told Charles. “I have to go. Will you be fine on your own, Y/N?”

“Yeah, sure. Do you need me for something?” 

“It’s all good. Enjoy your evening.” she added, winking at you.

As soon as she was out of sight, you proceeded to make your way out, for good this time, not caring if Charles was following you or not. But he was, matching his pace with yours.

“So… you can’t tell me I sucked today! You had to be nice to me, it must have been tough.” he jokingly teased you.

Unexpectedly, it made you laugh. A real laugh and Charles found the sound beautiful.

“You don’t suck. You never had.” you calmly said. “Sure you made some questionable career choices with Ferrari but even I have to admit it, you’re a great driver.”

“But then, why do you hate me?”

“Don’t take it personal, it’s not you I hate. It’s what you mean to me.” you cryptically explained, before walking faster, leaving him here trying to grasp a meaning to the words you’ve only half spoken.

Miami was everything you hated. Too glamorous, too wild, too flashy, too much. You only wanted the weekend to end and it hadn’t even started. You were enjoying a little bit of peace and quiet on the patio of your hotel. The air seemed cooler and you didn’t know if it was because of the AC or because of the fact that it was less crowded here. You were watching a few highlights of the previous race to try to prepare your next interviews. Notes scribbled down on paper sheets were on display in front of you and anyone looking at them would wonder how you would manage to understand anything in them. But it was your own organized mess, you were used to it and it was how you were working. Focused on your video, your headphones on your ears, you hadn’t heard Jean approaching you. 

“Y/N, right the girl I wanted to see.” he greeted you with a sneaky smile that involuntarily made you gulp. 

“Jean… what brings you here?”

“I have something to tell you. And I believe you will particularly like it.” he winked at you, making you curious. “If I was telling you that we managed to get a driver for a long interview broadcasted on Sunday before the race and we wanted you to conduct it, what would you say?”

You blinked a few times, repeating his questions, trying to register what he was saying. It was all you had ever wanted and you couldn’t believe that the team was trusting you enough to let you do it on your own. You excitedly agreed, it was an opportunity you wouldn’t pass on. 

“And who is it? Which driver did you manage to book?” you asked. 

“Charles Leclerc.” Jean told you and suddenly, your smile faded. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no of course not. It’s just… Are you sure I'm the right fit? He doesn’t exactly appreciate my questions.”

“Well, I guess you are since his only condition to make this interview was you being behind the mic.”

Getting inside the Ferrari hospitality felt impressive. It was not everyday that their doors were open to journalists and to have the opportunity to be there, for a whole hour, felt surreal. You felt prepared but anxious still. It was an overwhelming feeling. You met Silvia who told you that everything was almost ready and that Charles was on his way. She got you a cappuccino and showed you the room, giving you time to settle. You looked around. Pictures of the drivers were everywhere. Charles’ wins in Spa, in Monza, in Austria. Carlos’ win in Silverstone was hung as well. Pictures of the crew. Pictures of old wins were there as well. If you were just turning around on yourself, you could have a full 360 of Ferrari’s history.  When you looked at the door, you almost jumped. Charles was there, leaning against the door frame, a half smile playing on his lips, not bothered to have you here in the slightest. Jean hadn’t fooled you, he knew you would be there, bringing to your lips a thousand unspoken questions.

“You asked me to be here. Why?”

“I like a good challenge.” he simply said, sitting on the chair in front of yours as you quickly verified the equipment and did the same. 

You breathed in and out, asked him if he was ready and started the interview. 

“Thank you, Charles Leclerc, for agreeing to this interview. Today, I wanted to take a deep dive into your career, showing you some key moments of it and collecting your thoughts on them. I didn’t select your wins, though. I’m a firm believer that you learn much more from someone when you look at their failures than in the moments they thrive.”

You paused, taking a moment to judge his reactions but as a true professional he didn’t show anything only, nodded. You gave him the tablet and invited him to click on the link of the first video. French GP 2022, his mistake, his scream on the radio.

“What goes through your mind right at this moment, when you lose your grip and end up in the barriers?”

“Frustration. A huge wave of frustration because I know that it’s one hundred percent my fault. I can’t blame the team, or the strategy or the set up because we had a perfect car and we were in position to win. I’m very critical of myself, I don’t accept any mistakes because I think this is how you improve. I wake up every day wondering what I can do to get better. It took time for me to make peace with my mistakes during this Grand Prix.”

You asked a few more questions, trying to understand his thought process and making him talk about his preparations for a Grand Prix before you told him to click on the next link. It’s an audio and not a video this time. And soon, the now sadly famous line ‘Box, box. Stay out, stay out.’ echoed in the room. 

“You really decided to show me all the traumatic moments of my career.” he bitterly laughed. 

“I’m not going to ask if that hurt because I know that it did. What was the first thing you did when the cameras were off and you were on your own?”

“I called my mom. It’s stupid, I know but at that moment I needed to hear her voice. I felt like a kid, confused and lost. It’s one of the very first times in my career where I started to doubt, not myself, but the environment I was in. It didn’t take long because I was quickly reassured by the staff.”

“Were the tensions with Mattia Binotto already there at the time?”

“I don’t like to talk about tensions with Mattia, because I know at the time he thought he was doing his best with the situations he was in. But yeah, it broke something that day. But that’s how it is, you know. Mistakes are made, you learn from them and you bounce back.”

“The last moment I chose is a more recent one, if you want to open it.” you guided him. 

Bahrain 2023. It made Charles laugh and shake his head. You really are determined to make him relive his worst moments. But still, he somehow found it easy to talk to you. You actually let him talk, say whatever he wanted to say, you were not searching for a headline you could reuse to deform his words. You were listening, only asking him to be more precise when it was needed. And you finally wrapped the interview, Silvia looked happy. It had taken less time than expected and maybe Charles could actually do that sponsor video shoot that they thought wouldn’t squeeze in his very tight schedule. 

“No. And before you ask, I don’t intend to go anywhere. This interview was supposed to last an hour and it’s barely half of it. I still have thirty minutes to spare, so Silvia, please, I would like to be left alone for the time being.”

“But Charles…”

“It was not a suggestion. I was trying to be polite.” he cut her and Silvia, even if she looked visibly frustrated, ended up giving up.

“Fine. You know where you have to be in half an hour. No lateness will be tolerated.”

As soon as she left the room, Charles exhaled deeply and looked at you. You are cleaning your stuff and are tidying the place and you are surprised to not see him move. Instead, he sat on the ground and studied each one of your movements, making you painfully aware of them. 

“I think it’s time for me now to ask you questions. And I won’t give you any other choices but to give satisfying answers otherwise I won’t let you leave that room.”

You glared at him. Who did he think he was? But as he saw you glancing at the door, his instincts took over and slided towards it, preventing you from running away. You sighed.

“You don’t give me the choice, do you?”

“Nope. It’s you, me and the questions I’m dying to ask you.” he replied, a playful look on his face. 

Understanding that you might get stuck with him for the next few minutes, you sat on the floor as well, right in front of him. 

“You said, in Baku, that you hated what I meant for you. I don’t understand. What did you mean?”

You fidgeted. You hated yourself for telling him that a few weeks ago because you knew that he would keep it in the back of his mind. And you were right.

“It’s personal.” you said, a bit more harshly than necessary in hope he wouldn’t ask further.

Your gaze is everywhere but on him and your bouncing legs, giving away how awkward Charles had made you. Suddenly, he felt bad and slowly approached you until his knees touched yours. He was so close that you couldn’t ignore him anymore but in a desperate attempt to achieve it, you closed your eyes, focusing on your shallow breathing. You felt his hand, hesitantly brushing yours until he took it in his to squeeze it. That’s when you opened your eyes. You could feel them burning from the tears you were trying so hard to fight back.

“I lost my baby brother a few months ago. Leukemia.” you confessed. 

“I’m sorry.”

“He is… was a huge fan of Ferrari and of you. Our granddad introduced me and later him to F1, he died a couple years ago. Watching the Grand Prix was our thing, you know, to my brother and I. When he was diagnosed and forced to be hospitalized I didn’t stop watching them. It was just in his hospital room, now. He was such a fan, he had so much merchandising from Ferrari, posters and flags on the walls of his room. He was idolizing you. You were his favorite driver and he had promised to himself that when he would get out of this hospital room he would do anything to meet you. His hero. And then I had to go to New-York for my studies. I always had him on the phone, though. After each Grand Prix. He was the happiest when you won in Bahrain last year. And he cried of happiness about Australia. For a moment, the doctors thought he was going better and he was only saying it was because of you. But then his health started to get worse all at once. And it correlated with the moment your results were downgrading. He died a few days after Silverstone.”

You paused, trying to steady your breath as you felt a tear falling down your cheek, caught up by Charles. 

“I… I guess… I associated you with his death in a twisted way and I’m sorry. It’s just… I didn’t get to say goodbye. I wasn’t even there for his funeral, I preferred to not go because if I didn’t then it wasn’t real. I was a coward. I still am. And you didn’t deserve any of it. It was just… easier? I don’t know. I don’t make any sense and…”

“You make sense. I understand. A little bit. Not everything but I relate… in some ways. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Truly.”

“I feel so guilty… about so many things. But treating you the way I did was wrong. You were right, I wasn’t fair. I didn’t give the same treatment to you that I did for others.”

“It’s okay. It’s behind us. Are your parents still around?”

“They are. Not the greatest parents, though. But it’s like that. You know, that’s why this job is so important to me. Because it makes me feel close to my brother and because I hope that it will help me get out of that freaking guilt feeling. I do it for him. I hope he is proud of me, wherever he is.”

“I’m sure he is.”

Suddenly his alarm went off, signaling him that the 30 minutes he had set up were over. It startled them both. He got up and looked at your distraught and pale face and he felt awful to leave you like this. But he had work commitments that he couldn’t avoid. You saw his look on you and forced a smile. 

“I’m okay. I promise, it’s just… It’s the first time I talked about Luc aloud since he has passed away.” you explained. “Go. You can’t afford to be late.”

He reluctantly ended up leaving you, not without thinking that something had changed between both of you.

Author's note: It's race day! I hope for Charles and Ferrari that everything will go well and pray for a podium.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

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#charles leclerc 16 #formula 1 #writing #fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 #scuderia ferrari #ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #cl16 x reader #driver x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc

[somejazzinthemorning]

snapshot.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: overuse of pet names because i'm a romantic, masturbation, mentions of sex. not beta-d so sorry for typos or mistakes ] - Word Count: 1K

you capture a candid photo of your boyfriend sleeping. little do you know, this innocent act sparks some ideas in his mind.

(i needed to do something after i saw him in boyfriend mode taking photos of his girl. hope this is a good way to make my comeback. soon i'll post about the little break I took. love you all. hope you enjoy) 🫶🏼

The morning sun pours its golden rays through the curtains. You wake up with its gentle kiss. The warm glow envelops you, seeming to prickling your naked skin. You find yourself nestled in its embrace, entangled in a sleepy haze, locked in the limbo between dreams and wakefulness.

You sigh as you open your eyes.

The gentle glow of the light dances around you, creating a peaceful ambiance that centers on the man lying next to you. Carlos. His head rests on the pillow; hair falling in disarray over his forehead.

Owning the image before you, your eyes don’t shy away from taking in the whole scene—the slightly parted lips, the shadow of his long eyebrows, the naked chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slow breaths. There’s a serene vulnerability about him in that morning light, a beauty that begs to be immortalized.

And you know you can’t trust your mind for that. You can’t afford to have time tarnish it.

So you shift in bed and reach for the nightstand where your phone rests, and you aim the camera at Carlos. For a second, it seems a crime to so casually steal that image of beauty and serenity with something as mundane as a touch on a screen. Beauty like that deserves more effort.

Carlos stirs slightly, a fragment of a smile playing on his lips as he mumbles, with his eyes still closed,

“What are you doing?” There’s drowsiness in his voice, laced with a hint of amusement.

“Nothing,” you whisper softly. “You just looked so pretty.”

He smirks and runs his hands over his face. “I should feel violated,” he teases, extending his hands towards you, “My turn, now.”

Handing him the phone, you watch him. His gaze shifts to you with a different glint. You’re sitting on your knees in bed, the sheets around your legs, and nothing but your hair covering your chest. Reclining in bed, he points the camera at you. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your hands, the modesty you still hold translated into something similar to a pose.

Carlos lets out a soft groan. “No, no,” he protests, “you can’t hide those from me.”

“You want a photo of my boobs?”

“Sí, to have it as a keepsake in my wallet.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle at the sight of him. The sleepy eyes. The messy hair. The ridiculously overly feminine case on your iPhone that looks absurdly small in his big hairy hands. And all of this bathed in the soft glow of morning light and the memories of last night when you loved each other to sleep... God, you feel so lucky to have found this man.

Tilting your head to the photo, a faint smile grazes your lips as your gaze lingers on him, disregarding the phone pointing at you.

“The hair,” he directs.

This time, without even noticing, you were already obeying. You sweep your hair back, leaving the strands to cascade down your back. The soft sound of the clicks locks this moment into eternity. Looking down, you see the streaks of light cutting through your chest, drawing parallel lines over your naked bosom. You pass your fingers over it. Click. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the light. Click. Your arms stretch over your head, in a casual stretch like you've done any morning, without a camera aiming at you. Click.

When you look back at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.

A mischievous twinkle awakens in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. Probably way more than you.

You let your fingers rest over your lips. Click. And then they hover over your jawline and your neck, which is still sore and probably painted with small hickeys. Click. Patiently, they glide over the curves of your chest with a fatherly touch, a tease enough to make your skin erupt into goosebumps. Before you dare to touch yourself, you look up.

“Do you like this?” His voice cuts the silence. And God, it’s so much deeper than before. “Tell me, love. Do you like having me here… watching you?” You nod. “Go ahead then. Play with them.”

You obey his command, gently pressing your fingertips against the buds on your chest and grazing over your nipples. Without realizing it, you squeeze your legs together. Carlos probably notices it because he moves in his place. When you look up, his hand is cradling his cock over the blanket. The power of his words and the sight of his hand on his cock are enough to make your breath hitch. You intensify your touch, tracing circles around your nipples, feeling them harden under your touch. Click. Your eyes never leave him as you continue to play with yourself, knowing you're putting on a show for him. The thought sends shivers down your spine and makes you wetter than before.

His hand doesn’t move too much, almost like he’s saving himself for you. You can see the tension building in him, the way his muscles are tense and his jaw clenched. It's a game of self-control, and you both know it.

"Spread your legs," he commands in a low voice. You obey without hesitation, spreading your legs wider and giving him a full view of your body. Click. "Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I want to be inside you."

The mattress shifts, and as you look in his direction, you can see him crawl towards you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your heart race. Reaching for your chest, he kisses the spot your fingers are still pinching. He circles his tongue around your hard nipple, making you shiver, as if an electric current is flowing between the both of you. You arch into his touch, wanting more.

And then his teeth graze over your chest, ever so slightly, before he bites into it, making you gasp and whimper. The combination of pleasure and pain has you gripping the sheets tightly as he continues to tease and torment your sensitive nipples.

His hot breath is fanning over your face as he looks down at you, panting and begging for more. A smirk plays on his lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Such a good girl,” he praises, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his tongue is demanding and forceful, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you desperately try to deepen the connection.

His fingers trail down from your chest to your stomach and then lower, slipping between your legs. The other hand keeps holding the phone, registering it. You take a couple of seconds to notice it, but you’re shaking. Burning.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he growls, before abruptly pulling away from you and returning to his seat. Arousal is dripping down your thighs as you watch him recline against the headboard. “Go ahead. Touch yourself.”

The memory of his lips and teeth seem to feed your body and arousal. You’re burning. The feeling of the sun on your skin only feeds that feeling. A warm tingling spreads through your chest and down to your core. You slide your fingers down. And God, you’re truly wet. You didn’t realize how hot this little game had turned you. You push your knees further apart, which earns a satisfied groan from your boyfriend.

"Do you want a photo of that too?" he asks.

You nod eagerly, feeling the heat radiating off your body. Without losing eye contact with him, you slide your fingers down to your throbbing center, spreading your folds and teasing yourself with light touches. His eyes are dark and intense as he watches you pleasure yourself under his gaze.

"Fuck," he groans, snapping another photo of your hand between your legs. You moan at the sound of his voice. "I love watching you, baby. You look so pretty."

Carlos repositions the phone to make you be right at the center. It’s a masterpiece. Your body fits perfectly within the frame of the phone. Your skin taken by the streaks of light, golden sunshine gilding your naked body almost like blessing the pleasure you're implying on yourself. You’d later learn that you looked unreal in those photos—something pulled out of a painting, shadows and light in perfect harmony. But in that moment, you just felt needy and desperate.

"Can I move?" You ask, your voice shaking with need.

"You can do what the fuck you want, baby," Carlos replies, his eyes never leaving you as he slides out of bed. You feel a surge of confidence and power as you take his spot, spreading your legs wide.

Your fingers slide over your wet lips, teasing yourself with light touches. Carlos sits at the end of the bed, watching intently. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on your juices and they sparkle in the light.

Your eyes meet his, and he nods encouragingly. You let out a breathy moan as you start to move your fingers in circles over your clit. The pleasure builds quickly within you, and you hear Carlos let out a low growl.

You slide two fingers inside of yourself, the wetness making it easy for them to slip in. You let out a loud moan around your fingers, imagining they're Carlos' instead. The thought of him filling you up makes your walls clench around your fingers.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you want Carlos with you. "Carlos," you cry out his name, hoping he'll join in and take over where your fingers are currently working.

But he doesn't move from his spot at the end of the bed. He continues to watch you with dark eyes, his hand still hovering over his erection but not touching it.

You can see the longing in his gaze and it only fuels your desire further. You want him desperately, to be taken by him until all sense is lost.

You call out to him again, pleading for his presence and touch. You long for him. His hand tightens around his erection as he struggles to hold onto control. Your eyes lock with his, and he lets out a small laugh of helplessness.

"Use your words, baby," he grunts. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, come here."

"Not yet."

"Can I?... Please? Can I cum?"

"Yes. Go ahead. Give in for me."

You comply, arching your back and pushing your hips forward. Your fingers glide in and out of your body at a rapid pace, your breaths becoming shallow and erratic. Carlos' gaze never wavers from you, and the sound of his gentle moans fills the room.

Climax is imminent.

You can feel it building, a searing warmth spreading through your veins, threatening to consume you completely. You know you're on the edge, but you want to prolong this moment, revel in the pleasure of it all.

When you open your eyes, he's standing by your side. The camera is focused on your face, but his eyes? His eyes are fixed on yours. All his attention is on you.

"I'm—," you gasp, meeting his gaze, your voice barely audible. “I'm so close.”

“I know, my love,” he whispers. Click. “Let yourself go for me.”

As the words leave his lips, you feel yourself start to unravel. Your body trembles with ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You let out a guttural moan, your fingers still working their magic on your slick folds. It hits you like a wave, stealing your breath and lifting you higher, as you cry out his name and arch your back, almost like being pulled towards him by an invisible force. The camera continues to click as your body convulses, capturing every bit of your ecstasy, your face twisting into a mix of pain and pleasure.

As you come down from your high, you're aware of Carlos moving around the room. The bed dips slightly, and then he's beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your sweat-damp skin.

“Can you take me now?,” your voice low. “Please?”

Had this one in my mind all day so I just needed to sit down and write it down before it would vanish. I know I've been MIA, but I see all the support you keep giving me. You're all incredible. Hope you enjoyed this one silly thing. As always, all feedback is appreciated. 🫶

#Carlos Sainz #Carlos Sainz Jr #Carlos Sainz x Reader #Carlos Sainz x You #Carlos Sainz Smut #Carlos Sainz Fanfic #Carlos Sainz Imagine #Formula 1 x Reader #Formula 1 x You #F1 x Reader #F1 x You #F1 Imagine #F1 One Shot #Driver x Reader #F1 Driver x Reader #Driver x You #F1 Driver x You #F1 Fanfic #FanF1ction

[checopereez]

how the f1 drivers are as lovers

lewis hamilton

lewis is a passionate lover, not shying away from showing everyone that you are his, having you constantly by his side, showering you in gifts and doting over you.

oscar piastri

oscar is a silent lover. he loves you in the silence, meaning he doesn't show his love for you to the whole word. which doesn't mean oscar is ashamed of you, he is just a private guy who loves worshipping you behind closed doors.

charles leclerc

charles is a caring lover. he may seem like a playboy to the public eye, but concerning you, charles is the most caring person you have ever met, making sure you feel comfortable everywhere and anywhere. he is instantly worried when you show any signs of discomfort, especially in the paddock.

max verstappen

max is a simple lover. he is not big on gestures, not big on showing you off to the world. sure, max will buy you roses for your birthday or treat you to the finest dinners, but it won't be extravagant which is totally fine as this is exactly how you prefer it.

#driver x reader #f1 headcanons #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader #oscar piastri x reader

[landorris]

popular | lando norris x fem! reader

summary; who says instagram models don’t know a thing about f1?

fc; darianka sanchez

warnings; english is not my first language, this is my firts ever smau

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourusername

liked by friendsuser, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: back in ny for a bit ⭐️💋

user1: she’s so mother

frienduser: come home i miss you😕😕

yourusername: ik i miss you too, it’s just for this week 😖💞

user2: who is she and why is daniel in her likes?

user3: she’s an instagram model from australia, oscar and her have been following each other for years now but we don’t know if they’re friends

user4: isn’t she a bit young for danny?

view more comments

lando norris phone

your phone

lando norris had followed you on instagram

you followed lando norris on instagram

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, lando norris and others

yourusername: finally home

user1: you’re so coquette coded

user2: lacy

user3: not lando joining

user4: lando norris what are you doing here?

user5: idk what they see in her

landonorris: you like bows?! i also like bows what a coincidence

yourusername: ahah so cool norriz

view more comments

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and others

danielricciardo: home race was alright 🦘

tagged: yourusername

yourusername: i’m so cool😎

danielricciardo: i got payed to post that photo

yourusername: all i see is lies👩🏽‍🦯

user1: MOTHER IN THE PADDOCK

user2: i want a win

user3: what is she doing here?

user4: i hate when f1 teams just invite this instagram models who know nothing about f1 instead of inviting people who actually like it

user5: right?! she probably doesn’t even know how many drivers are in f1

landonorris: good race mate🙂

danielricciardo: you two lando, wonder why🤭

user6: what is this supposed to mean?

view more comments

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, frienduser and others

yourusername: damn i wish my dad taught me more about f1 🫤

tagged: aussiegrit

aussiegrit: damn you should’ve spent more time in the paddock with me

yourusername: yeah, it’s not like i went to ALL of your races

danielricciardo: now everyone knows im besties with your dad

yourusername: no you’re not

aussiegrit: come to dinner tonight daniel

danielricciardo: see!! i’m going mark 😁

user1: now i understand why is she so beautiful

user2: this explains a lot about her relationship with daniel

user3: OH SHE ATE THIS

landonorris: 😦

yourusername: what?

landonorris: text!

yourusername: kay

user4: not lando discovering with us😭😭

user5: she gagged that girl in daniel’s post

user6: i want your dad 🤭

view more comments

your phone

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: last few days at home before japan

danielricciardo: you’re coming to japan?

yourusername: yeah! i got invited

danielricciardo: and why am i only hearing about this now?

yourusername: i only got the invite today

danielricciardo: he’s cooking 🧑🏽‍🍳

user1: who is stealing my gf?

user2: is it lando

user3: guys hear me out i think it’s lando

view more comments

lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, aussiegrit and others

lando.jpg: japan🇯🇵⭐️

user1: are they……soft launching?

danielricciardo: i wonder who it is on the second picture

user2: still don’t like her

user3: they think we don’t know 😂

user4: ladies we lost him

user5: he posted her, man is in love

view more comments

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: i think i like japan

danielricciardo: i knew you would change your mind

user1: can he fight?

aussiegrit: have fun kiddo!

yourusername: i love you dad💞

user2: yeah it’s defensively her

user3: are they dating ?

landonorris: i think i really really like japan too

user4: never beating the norriz allegations

view more comments

#formula 1 #f1 #moodboard #cars #grand prix #aesthetic #mclaren #orange #lando norris #f1 smau #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #driver x reader

[lvis44]

Freak Like That // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Angst, Kind of Cheating? (depends on how you look at it), Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Not Edited/Proofread

Word Count: 8.9k+

Summary: Seeing him again shouldn't be as hard as it is, but the universe has funny ways of making sure you end up back in his arms.

Notes: I'm aware I said this was coming like 3 weeks ago but your girl has her first corporate job that has been much more demanding week by week so I've been busy!! I toyed with turning this into more of a fic so if you're interested in a pt.2 of them LMK. Sweet Escape Epilogue is still on its way but has turned into a bit of a stand alone fic within a chapter, don't hate me, or maybe you'll love me for it. I didn't proofread this and wrote part of it while I was a tad bit drunk, oopsie! Love you all!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

It had taken everything in you to move on from Lewis. You had done everything in your power to forget him, how he felt, how good he was to you, but the thought of him always lingered. You would have been a fool to ever think that anything could ever truly happen between the two of you, you were mature enough to know it was always just sex, it would always be just sex. That didn’t mean you never fantasized about how it would feel to be loved by him. It was never a relationship between the two of you, there was never any commitment from him. He had been more of a fuck buddy, a sugar daddy in many senses. He was older than you, detached, and loved to shower you with gifts. You only ever had his attention in private, and when you did he made you see stars. Lewis had always managed to unlock something within you that you didn’t know existed, bringing alive senses you’d never felt. He taught you things about your body and needs that you had been so naive to. No one had ever been able to compare to him. Parting from him had been one of the most difficult tasks you had ever been faced with, but you knew the agreement between the two of you wasn’t sustainable, you were only ever destined for heartbreak if you continued with him. You had done so well for the last year, ignoring his texts, doing your best to avoid his heavy presence online. Him being in the same room as you however, was something that you were not prepared for. He looked ethereal, his beige suit jacket showing off just a peak of his chest, enough to force the images back into your head, his tattoos glistening above you as he wears you out. He has one braid hanging perfectly in front of his face, all you can think of is how his braids felt tickling your neck when he would pant dirty words into your sticky skin.

“Y/N? You okay darling?” The voice that came from beside you startled you. When you looked to your side, your boyfriend was looking at you with concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, sorry about that, just zoned out for a second.” You try to fake laugh it off, not wanting him to pry.

He continues to look suspicious but doesn’t press any further, instead seamlessly transitioning into a conversation with one of the businessmen standing with him. You find your attention returning back to where Lewis had stood, his attention now fully on you. His smirk is knowing as he drags his eyes shamelessly up and down your body. You have to use every ounce of power in yourself to pull your eyes away from him as one of your boyfriends business partners directs a question to you. You put your fake smile on, engaging in boring conversation as you do your best to ignore the strong presence that is Lewis. You had been worried that one day you would run into him, your boyfriend working in the fashion industry made it almost inevitable.

You managed to stay relatively strong throughout the night, the champagne helping immensely. Lewis had disappeared into the crowd and you had done your absolute best not to look for him. You spent your evening tailing behind your boyfriend, being introduced to random men that you assumed worked in the same circles as him. Your boyfriend kept his hand on your lower back throughout most of the night, the only acknowledgement that you were even really there. He was a fine man, he had taken his time winning you over, taken you on romantic dates, but the spark still wasn’t there, and the arguments were becoming more and more frequent. You knew he cared about you, treated you well, but he was simply the safest option, and he was getting sick of your lack of interest in his work. You were growing increasingly tired of being his arm candy, using you to show off to his business partners. The intimacy lacked passion, nothing matched the raw passion you had with Lewis once upon a time. It wasn’t fair to compare him to Lewis, he was actually there to be your partner, not just a fun time, but it was almost impossible. 

“There’s only a few more people I need to talk to and then I promise we can go.” Your boyfriend whispered into your ear. You couldn’t wait to get out of your heels and be in a quiet room, away from the people faking sincerity in hopes of investments and business opportunities.

You grab another glass of champagne as your boyfriend orders an Old Fashion before once again pulling you along through the crowd of people, evidently in search of someone.

“Ah, there he is.” You hear him exclaim, not yet able to see who he’s approaching.

When you come out from behind him you want to scream, he has approached Lewis, completely unaware of the situation he has just put you in.

“It’s so fantastic to meet you, I’m Brian, we work with a lot of the same people around here. It’s an honor, I’m a big fan.” Your boyfriend extends his hand to Lewis eagerly.

You can’t help but be confused, your boyfriend has never once mentioned racing, you can only assume he’s a fan of his work in fashion, or he’s lying.

“Nice to meet you too,” Lewis responds politely with a small chuckle, returning the handshake before turning his attention to you, “and always wonderful to see you Y/N.”

You want to melt into the earth below you. You can see the devious look in his eyes, blatantly announcing your familiarity, you thank god your boyfriend doesn’t know the depth of familiarity you have with the man in front of you, not yet at least.

“You two know each other?” Your boyfriend asks, confusion covering his face. 

“Oh yeah, we know each other well. Y/N hasn’t told you?” Lewis continues, a wide smile across his beautiful lips. To anyone else it would look kind and genuine, but you know he’s playing at something else, daring you, challenging your boyfriend in the simplest of ways.

“No she’s never-“ Your boyfriend starts before you cut him off.

“I wouldn’t say we know each other well, we’ve just met at things like this before.” You rush out, it’s not entirely a lie, that is exactly how you first met him. Your boyfriend doesn’t need to know the rest.

Lewis sends you a smirk, cocky and mischievous.

“All I can say man is you landed a very talented woman.” Lewis says to your boyfriend, the words falling off his lips in such a tone that your stomach flips.

“She is pretty incredible.” Your boyfriend smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your waist, completely oblivious to the meaning behind Lewis’ words. You can see out of the corner of your eye how Lewis glances down at the action, his jaw tightening momentarily.

Your boyfriend is on a mission, immediately transitioning into talking business with Lewis. You do your best not to undress him with your eyes, opting to look down at his feet throughout most of the conversation. You can feel Lewis glance at you every once in a while, trying so hard to ignore the way his gaze makes you feel. As you hear someone calling your boyfriends name you think you are finally free from the situation.

“So sorry, it sounds like I’m needed elsewhere, it was truly great meeting you, it was an honor.” Your boyfriend says to Lewis, shaking his hand once again before turning to you. You're ready to follow after him, happy to be dragged into yet another boring conversation, “Why don’t you stay here and catch up for a moment, I’ll find you later.”

He doesn’t give you even a moment to object as he presses a kiss to your temple and quickly makes his exit. You both watch as your boyfriend walks away, you in fear of the situation he’s left you in, Lewis in excitement of the exact same thing.

“Soooo,” Lewis draws out, finally looking directly at you, “how have you been?”

“Seriously?” You bite at him, unamused by his behavior.

He just shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, the glass barely hiding his amused smirk.

“What the hell was that? There’s no reason he needs to know anything.” You say, your tone low and harsh.

He just laughs, “There’s no way youre fucking that dude. I doubt that square can make you cum. Not the way I did.”

“Lewis,” You hiss at him, looking around hoping no one heard him, “he’s good to me, leave him alone.”

“So I’m right, he can’t make you cum can he.” His words come out as a statement not a question, so confident in himself, in his knowledge of your needs.

“Untrue, he’s perfectly fine, and he offers so much more than you ever did.” You throw back at him, not happy at his assessment of your relationship, he has no right to assume anything. Even if he’s partially correct.

“He might not break your heart baby, but I doubt he can break your back the way I did.” He’s gotten closer to you, his voice lower, seductive.

You can feel your breath hitch, the familiar smell of him engulfing your senses, his words going to your core unwillingly. He notices it too, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. All you can think about is how that same tongue has felt in your mouth, all over your body, inside of you, so many times. He chuckles as he watches you get lost in thought, knowing exactly where your mind has wandered.

“He’s gonna be busy for a while, we could relive some old times.” Lewis says quietly, his head gesturing back toward the hall where the bathrooms are.

“Lewis, no.” You say against your will, desperately wanting to follow him mindlessly down the hall and let him have his way with you, but you can’t let yourself do it to your boyfriend.

“Offer stands, always, ya know when you finally get sick of him.” Lewis says casually.

Within moments your boyfriend has appeared at your side once again. You worry that he’s heard something but he seems unbothered, unaware of what you were just offered.

“Vance and I are going to go grab drinks down the street, talk about the contract somewhere a little quieter.” He says to you, ignoring Lewis entirely.

You sigh, realizing just how much longer your night had just gotten, “I really just want to head back to the hotel.”

“Really? You know these meetings always go better when you’re around. You take the focus off of me.” He half complains half laughs.

“We’ve been here forever babe, I really just want to get out of my dress.” You say softly, trying to get out of the boring boys club meeting.

“You’ll be fine, besides how would you even get back to the hotel? I need to have the car take Vance and I and you’re never going to find a cab with all of this going on.” He gestures back towards that large party, his voice starting to sound annoyed.

“I’ll figure something out, I really just want to go back to the hotel, the day has been long enough as is.” You sigh, hoping he lets it go.

“C'mon babe, we’re supposed to be a team.” He continues to try to convince you. 

Never have you been part of his business ventures, only the arm candy that he  brings to meetings when he is trying to show off to someone.

“And we are, I’m just not up to staying out so late tonight.” You say, growing agitated, embarrassed that this conversation is happening in front of Lewis.

“We won’t be out late.” Your boyfriend continues to argue, “And how are you even going to get to the hotel?”

“I’ve got a car coming in just a little bit, I’ll get her back.” Lewis pipes up before you can respond, not looking at you but directing his attention to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend lets out a frustrated huff before conceding.

“That would be great, I appreciate it man.” Your boyfriend agrees without asking you, shaking Lewis’ hand.

“Anytime, don’t worry, she’ll be well taken care of.” The smile on Lewis’ face is so sweet you could almost believe he is just being polite.

Your boyfriend doesn’t even say another word to you, walking away toward his business partners after patting you on the shoulder.

“He evidently trusts you.” Lewis says, raising his eyebrow at you.

“He has absolutely no reason not to.” You fire back at him, feeling defensive.

“Come on, let’s go get a drink.” Lewis ignores you, wiggling his now empty drink in the air. 

“I thought your car was going to be here in a second.” You say, raising an accusatory brow at him as you cross your arms over your chest.

“I said it would be here in a little bit,” Lewis starts, taking note of your eye roll at his words, “It will be fine, I’ll have you back before Prince Charming gets his drunk ass back to your room.”

“He’s not drunk.” You defend him unnecessarily, making Lewis laugh.

“If he’s getting drinks with Vance, he definitely will be by the time he’s back. Come have a drink with me, I’ve missed you.” Lewis shakes his head, evidently familiar with the man your boyfriend is getting drinks with.

“You’ve missed me?” The words come out of your mouth without meaning to, you’re genuinely surprised he’s even thought of you since you parted ways.

“Yes, of course I have,” He laughs, directing you toward the bar, “I always enjoyed myself with you. I still don’t get why you left.” His voice sounds vulnerable as he lets the last bit slip.

“You know exactly why I left.” You say, mindlessly following him to the bar against your better judgment.

“No I really don’t, you never really gave me an explanation. You just disappeared.” Lewis argues with you, keeping his voice low as he directs you onto a bar stool.

“Lewis, we both know nothing about what we were doing was sustainable. There’s no way you could have ever given me what I need.” You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation, especially not in public.

“And what is it that you need? Some guy that can’t satisfy you? You’re really trying to tell me that you’re happier with him than you were with me?” Lewis continues to push you, waving down the bartender.

“Lewis, I was never with you, and besides that, you have no idea what our relationship is like.” You defend yourself, not directly answering him.

“I think I saw enough to know that you’re not having fun.” Lewis shoots back at you, waiting for the bartender to make his way over to the two of you.

“It’s not about fun, it’s about stability.” You say, trying to stand your ground.

“You deserve both.” Lewis mumbles as the bartender appears in front of you.

Lewis orders for you, not needing to ask what you want, confident in his prior experience with you.

Your mind wanders back to the rare times that you would go out in public with him, hidden in the back corner of dive bars. The two of you getting tipsy off of shitty drinks before falling into bed together. It was rare times like those that made you fantasize about actually being in a relationship with him, dream about what your life would be like with him giggling through kisses as a permanent fixture.

“What have you been up to?” Lewis pulls you out of your thoughts, thankfully changing the subject.

“Just the usual, not much has changed.” You shrug, taking a sip of the drink in front of you.

“Descriptive,” Lewis teases you, “nothing new? How’d you meet your square?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “You really want to talk about my boyfriend?”

“I need to know what I’m up against.” Lewis shrugs as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“You’re not up against anything because it’s not a competition.” You deadpan, annoyed with his confidence.

“Everything’s a competition babe, that’s life.” Lewis laughs, taking a sip of his drink,

You can’t help the way your stomach flips at the familiar pet name, it’s been so long since you’ve heard it fall off his lips, it came so naturally to him.

Somehow you find yourself engaged in a normal conversation with Lewis eventually, discussing his race season and other projects he’s been working on. You’ve always loved to hear him talk about the things he’s passionate about, easily getting lost in his words. You stay with him, enjoying the shockingly easy conversation, indulging in more drinks than you should. It’s not until you see him check his watch do you think about how much time has probably passed.

“So is your car here yet, or are you planning on holding me hostage?” You ask him, filling the momentary silence.

“Not used to many hostage situations that include free drinks,” Lewis laughs, “but we should probably head out front, car will be here soon.”

“Thank you for the drinks by the way.” You say quietly, sliding off your stool to follow him out of the venue.

He just smiles, no words leaving his mouth as he places his hand on your lower back, guiding you out with him. It doesn’t take long before his car is at the curb, his hand not having left your back as he urges you into the car. Despite the multiple seats available, he settles into the seat directly next to you, his thigh touching yours sending electricity through your whole body. You curse yourself for how simple it is for him to draw a reaction from you. 

“So where’s the square got you staying?” Lewis asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Shut up.” You mumble before giving him directions that he relays to his driver.

There’s a large part of you that’s surprised he seems to actually be taking you back to your hotel, expecting him to try so much more before actually granting you your freedom. You can’t help but be slightly annoyed with your boyfriend for putting you in this position, even if he doesn’t know your history with Lewis, the rumors surrounding him should be enough to keep your girlfriend from being alone with him. Even if your boyfriend trusts you, why does he trust Lewis so much?

The drive is mostly silent. Lewis has his arm up over the back of your seat and as much as you want to fight him on it, push him away, you can’t bring yourself to do so, you enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. His body heat is intoxicating in the worst way, you can’t help but relish in the familiar feeling, so used to being cocooned in his arms. You can tell that you’re getting close to your hotel by the familiar streets, Lewis still scrolling on his phone as if he could care less that you’re sat next to him for the first time in nearly a year. Maybe he’s given up, you think. Maybe he’s finally respecting your boundaries. All of that is thrown to the wind when the car begins to slow down. He scooches even closer to you, his head dropping to your neck.

“My offer always stands, I meant it when I said I miss you.” He whispers in your ear before placing a kiss to your throat.

A small whimper leaves you involuntarily, secretly missing the way that his lips feel on your skin. You can feel a slight smirk on your skin as he pulls away, not far. His face comes up, directly in front of yours, his nose just grazing your own. Everything inside of you is screaming at you to get out of the car and not turn back, but your body is drawn toward him, he can feel it too. One large hand finds your thigh, running up the outside of it, just under the hem of your dress. You relish in the feeling of his calloused fingers on your skin for the first time in far too long. His eyes are heavy as he stares at you, hooded and darkened with lust. He leans forward just the slightest bit, ghosting his lips over yours. When you don’t pull back or fight him, he takes it as a good sign. His grip on your thigh tightens as he leans forward and properly connects your lips. The second his mouth is on yours he lets out a deep groan, one that seems to have been locked inside him for a long time. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, his tongue finding yours mindlessly. His tongue swirls against yours as his other hand comes to find the back of your head, pressing you harder against him. Your hands have a mind of their own, coming up to find the sides of his strong neck, not even thinking, you’ve been in another world since the second his lips found yours. When he finally departs you find yourself chasing his lips, making him peck yours once again.

“Come back to mine, babygirl.” He whispers, out of breath.

You let out a small whimper, your brain clouded by all of the ways you could explore him tonight, let him explore you.

“Yeah?” He coaxes, his head dropping back to your neck, “We can have so much fun babe. Everything you’ve been missing this last year, I promise.”

“Lewis, I can’t,” You just about groan, frustrated but sticking to your guns, “we’ve already crossed too many lines. I can’t do that to him.”

You try to push Lewis away but it’s worthless, his light assault on your neck is welcomed despite your words.

“Yeah, maybe we crossed a line. Why not cross some more? Hmm?” His words are spoken through kisses trailing up your neck and across your jaw, slowly making his way back towards your lips.

“Lew,” You breathe out, pushing at his chest once again, finally he disconnects from you, just barely, “I shouldn’t. I can’t, it’s not fair.”

“No, it’s really not fair is it.” Lewis shakes his head, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, a whole different meaning to his words.

“I need to go.” You whisper, moving to get out of the car.

“Hey,” Lewis stops you, a hand on your wrist, “you still have my number, let me know if you change your mind. I’m only a few blocks down.”

You offer him a small smile, not sure how to respond and not able to be in his presence any longer. You slip out of his grasp, closing the door on him as you do. You can feel the heat from where his fingers gripped you, a burning sensation on your skin. You try to shake the sensation from your body as you make your way up to your room. You can hear his car drive away in the background, having to stop yourself from turning around and going back to him. When you arrive back to your room, its empty, your boyfriend nowhere to be found, evidently still out at drinks. You sigh, flopping down onto the mattress. You want to scream. It’s so unbelievably unfair that someone can still have such a hold over you, despite having not seen him in a year. Lewis is addictive, and reintroducing an addictive substance to someone who has just barely become clean is always dangerous.

It’s a few hours before your boyfriend finally returns to the hotel. You’ve long since changed into comfier clothes and are lounging on the bed watching a random show, grateful to finally be out of your heels. When he finally arrives you can tell he’s beyond wasted, just like Lewis had predicted.

“Hey hun.” He slurs, swaying in the hallway as he tries and fails to steady himself.

“Hi,” You giggle, “have a good time with Vance?”

“Yeah,” He laughs back, “woulda had a better time if you had came along though.”

“You look like you had plenty of fun,” You raise a brow at him, “go change and come to bed.”

“I just don’t get why you didn’t want to come, honestly I would have closed that deal so much quicker” He says as he goes into the bathroom 

“I told you I wanted to get back to the hotel, I was tired.” You sigh

“Not too tired to hang out with Lewis Hamilton.” You can hear the anger in his voice and it makes you want to laugh.

“Really? You’re the one who told me to stay and hang out with him, not only that but you trusted him to take me home. How is that my fault?” You’re already annoyed as the words leave your mouth, already frustrated beyond belief in so many ways.

“Jesus Y/N, if I knew getting drinks would put you in such a mood maybe I would have come home sooner.” Your boyfriend says from the bathroom.

You have no idea where his sudden attitude has come from, you refusing going to drinks should not have put him in such a mood.

“I’m not in a mood, I just don’t appreciate you implying that I turned you down just to hang out with Lewis.” You argue as he exits the bathroom, his shirt now off, just in his suit pants.

“I know you didn’t leave that gala for quite some fucking time.” He spits at you drunkenly.

“What are you even talking about?” You ask him, confused how he even knows, not that it should even be an issue.

“You were too tired to come get drinks with me to help me with an important investor but you can stay and have drinks with Lewis Hamilton for another hour?” He accuses you, not taking into account that it’s partially his fault.

“We were waiting for his car so we got a drink,” You defend, “and how do you even know how long we were there?”

“People know you're my girl Y/N. Apparently people find it a bit strange when they see my girlfriend drinking at the bar with one of the most notorious playboys in the game.” His voice is slowly getting louder, putting you even more on edge.

“Oh so you have people keeping tabs on me now?” You question him.

“I don’t need to ask, they just do it. It’s embarrassing Y/N. I don’t need people thinking that my girlfriend is out fucking athletes.” He throws at you, rolling your eyes.

“All that should matter is that you know!” You yell at him.

“Do I?” His voice is laced with venom, a sudden distrust that you’ve never seen from him before.

“Well you certainly fucking should.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“How do you know him?” He ignores your argument, taking a step closer to you.

“I told you.” 

“Yeah you told me how you met him, sure. How do you actually know him, because you seemed to be pretty fucking close.” He fires at you.

Your anger has reached a peak, not wanting to deal with your boyfriends drunken anger, you let the walls down.

“You really want to know how familiar I am with him? Hmm?” You challenge him.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, he fucked me for a year straight. Best I ever had.” You shrug, your voice venomous. You have let all of your cares slip away.

“Excuse me?” Your boyfriend is seething, your last comment sticking with him.

“You heard me.” You say, your voice eerily calm. 

“You say that and then expect me to believe you didn’t fuck him tonight? How stupid do you think I am?” He sounds almost amused as he asks the question.

“I could have, oh god I could have, I was this close,” You hold up your fingers to emphasize your point, “but I didn’t. Ya know why? Because I’m in a relationship, I fucking you! I couldn’t do that to you. Yet here you are accusing me of going behind your back. You left me alone with him, you let him take me back to the hotel. Why? So you could prove a point about what you think of me?”

“If you were so close to fucking him, why don’t you go do exactly that?” Your boyfriend just about screams at you.

You’ve never had a fight of this magnitude, especially over something like this. Hearing his distrust and anger makes you rethink everything about him. Your mother always told you that drunk words are sober thoughts and you can’t help but feel that in this moment. In that moment you give up, why even try to convince him to trust you, if he thinks you’re going to cheat on him now why would he ever think differently.

“Fine.” You shrug, your voice calm.

“Seriously?” He’s taken aback, clearly not thinking you would act on it.

“You obviously don’t trust me so why not.” You say, not looking at him as you gather your things. You have no real plan about where you’re going to go, sure you are leaving things behind but not caring, just needing to get out of the room and away from his vile behavior.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re literally proving my point right now, you’ll fuck anyone who gives you attention. I thought I had managed to tame that shit in you.” He spits, watching you pack your things.

“Tame me?” You whip around at his words, “First of all, I’m not a fucking zoo animal. Second of all, if you’ve never trusted me why the fuck are you even here?”

“Jesus, I thought you could be better, you had so much fucking potential.” He sounds remorseful and it makes you want to scream. How dare he think you needed fixing.

“Fuck you, I’m done.” You say, your things finally zipped in your bag as you put on your shoes. 

He’s still yelling things at you as you make your way out of the room, not caring to stick around to hear what other awful things he has to say to you. You don’t properly breathe until you’re in the elevator, finally sure he’s not following you. That’s when you realize you don’t have anywhere to go, a lump forming in your throat as you think of everything that was said. Mindlessly you take out your phone, hesitating for a moment as you look at Lewis’ number, blocked for so long. You unblock him as you step out of the elevator and into the lobby, walking out to the street as you call his number, praying he’s not asleep. Going to him is probably the last thing you should be realistically doing, but he’s the only person you want to see right now.

“Hey stranger, I knew you’d end up calling.” His voice is cocky through the phone, you can hear his smirk.

“Lew.” You croak out, your tears finally coming to the front.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his tone changing drastically, immediately aware that something isn’t right. 

“You said you were staying nearby, can I come over?” You almost want to laugh at how desperate you sound.

“Of course, I’ll send you a car. Are you still at the hotel?” His voice is laced with concern and care and it makes your tears fall harder. It’s ridiculous that someone who had never been emotionally available could care for you more than your boyfriend.

“I’ll walk, just tell me where you are.” You shake your head as if he can see you.

“Y/N, it’s too late for you to be out walking alone, I’d be worried the whole time. Let me send you a car.” He argues.

“I need the fresh air honestly, just tell me where to go. Please.” Your voice breaks at the end of your plea, convincing him not to argue with you more, he can tell he won’t win.

Against his better judgment he finally tells you where he is, offering to stay on the phone with you while you walk. You’re tempted to take him up on it but you need the time to yourself. You’re still not sure why you feel such a desperate need to see him but it’s all you can think of at the moment.

The walk helps your head immensely, your agony switching to anger. Part of you wishes you had just gone back with Lewis when he offered, you would have proved your boyfriend right and still had a good night. If he doesn’t trust you, why be good for him?

When you arrive at Lewis’ hotel, he’s waiting in the door to his suite for you, his suit from earlier still on. He immediately takes note of your scowl and bag, his eyebrows raising. He doesn’t say a word as he steps aside to let you enter the room.

“That fucking asshole.” You say, dropping your bag as you finally turn to face a very concerned Lewis.

“What happened?” He asks you, cautiously approaching you.

“He doesn’t trust me! I could have come here and fucked you hours ago, but no, I stayed in his room and waited for his drunk ass to get back like a good little housewife. What do I get when he gets back? Accused of fucking you.” You let out in one big breath.

Lewis’ eyes widen, a slightly amused look on his face underneath the concern.

“So he accused you of cheating on him?” He questions, still trying to fully figure out what he’s dealing with.

“Oh not only that, he said he thought that he had tamed me, told me I embarrassed him.” You let out a bitter laugh.

“So he’s a square and a dumbass.” Lewis states with a cock of his head, frowning.

“Oh fuck you.” You spit at him.

“I’m just saying, no man in his right mind would ever be embarrassed by you.” He says softly, approaching you to put his hands on your arms gently, rubbing up and down softly in hopes of calming you somehow.

The gentle action makes you want to cry again, fall into him and never let him go. As if he can tell, he pulls you into his chest, holding you tight. You wrap your arms around his neck. You let yourself revel in the feeling of being in his arms, holding you so tight you almost can’t breathe, but you welcome it, you’ve missed it for so long.

“So why are you here baby, to piss him off?” Lewis asks quietly, loosening his grip on you slightly to get you to look at him.

“I don’t even know, I think I just wanted you.” You sigh, embarrassed by how needy you sound.

He smirks, pleased in the knowledge that you may want him in any way shape or form.

“Why the hell are you still dressed up?” You suddenly ask him, confused by how much time has passed since he left the event.

“Had an after party I had to go to, just got back a little while ago.” He shrugs, his arms still wrapped around you.

“So why the hell were you trying to get me to come back with you if you had things you had to do?” You question him.

“If there was any chance in hell you would come back with me I was blowing that party off in a heartbeat, don’t care if I pissed anyone off. Haven’t seen you in ages, couldn’t let the chance slip.” He explains, looking you dead in the eye.

The thought that he would have rather spent his night with you than going out and networking makes your heart clench, it’s something your own boyfriend never would have done, evidently. His admission makes you throw caution to the wind, missing the feeling of being wanted, you pull the back of his neck so you can connect your lips to his. He seems almost surprised for a moment, not expecting anything to happen due to the state you had arrived in. He only hesitates for a moment before responding with full force, his lips fully claiming yours like they’ll never touch another set.

He groans into the kiss, the sound going to your core immediately, its always been one of your favorite sounds. You take your hands from around his neck, pawing at the button of his jacket, desperate to feel the smooth skin and hard muscle he has hidden underneath. The second his jacket is open, running your hands up his torso, reveling in the strength, your lips never parting from his. He pulls back slightly, a cocky smirk spread across his swollen lips, his hands firmly on your backside.

“What do you want, baby?” He questions, his tone knowing.

You whimper in response, trying to catch his lips again as you work to push the jacket off his shoulders.

“Words Y/N, you know that.” He reprimands you even though he is reaching behind himself to pull his jacket off, throwing it over the nearby chair.

“Fuck, I want you, please.” You whine out, annoyed you even have to ask. 

His hands come back to your ass, taking greedy handfuls as his lips drop to your neck, brushing over the skin as he speaks, “You want me to show you what you’ve been missing out on? Remind you how good I can make you feel?”

All you can do is nod as you brace yourself on his large biceps, a panted ‘yes’ falling from your lips. Within seconds his hands have fallen to your thighs, scooping you up to walk you towards the bed in the large suite. He drops you down on the bed, letting you bounce as he stares down at you with hungry eyes. The mood has shifted so drastically since you arrived, the whiplash is making your brain spin. Within moments he’s on you again, his lips hungry against yours as his large hand trails up under your sweatshirt. You wished you were wearing something cuter but the feeling of his hands on you threw every thought out the window. As his lips trailed down your neck you explored every inch of his muscular back under your palms, feeling the way the muscles flexed every time he adjusted his position. Wordlessly your sweatshirt was thrown up and over your head before his lips attached to your bare breast. The moan you let out was something you didn’t recognize from yourself anymore, a sound you hadn’t made since the last time you had him.

Over the course of your relationship with your boyfriend, sex had become more of a chore, something you knew you needed to do to keep the relationship working, it obviously didn't work. Your boyfriend tended to rush through things, chasing his own high with yours as more of an afterthought. Lewis however, he took his time with you, he always had, he would never be done until you were absolutely wrecked beneath him.

Lewis’s lips were trailing down your body, his tongue tracing every inch of skin it could reach. Hot, wet, sloppy kisses being left against every dip and curve of your figure. When he reached the waistline of your sweatpants, his eyes flicked up for a moment, locking with yours. There was a faint question in them and all you could do was nod, bucking your hips up towards him, urging him to take them off. 

“So eager.” Lewis just about chuckles, pulling down your pants and thong in one move.

You can’t help but squirm when his eyes lock onto your heat, staring at you like he’s going to destroy you. His large hand splays across your bare waist, keeping you in place as his other holds one of your thighs out to the side.

“Patience babe, don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you.” His voice is teasing but you can hear the tension behind his words, he’s just as worked up as you are, the evidence is visible in his dress pants.

He leans down, pressing soft kisses along your hip, making his way further down slowly, much too slow for your liking.

“Lewis, please.” You whimper, hoping he will speed up the process and ease the ache between your legs.

He smirks, locking his eyes with yours as he latches his lips around your clit with no warning. You shriek, the sound turning into a guttural moan as his tongue laps over your nerves. You can feel the stubble of his beard on the inside of your thigh, his eyes still have left your face. You can feel the cocky smirk that spreads across his face as he lowers his face, lapping at your drenched entrance.

“Fuck baby, you really needed this didnt you?” He taunts you, breathless.

All you can do is whine his name as his skilled mouth returns to your core.

“God I missed you, always taste so fucking good.” He murmurs against you.

His tongue makes his way inside of you as his thumb comes to rub at your clit, making your back arch. Finally having him inside of you feels so good, but you need so much more and he knows it.

He pulls his mouth away, his thumb still tracing patterns across your nerves.

“Need you to come for me babygirl, could feel you clenching around my tongue, I know you’re close.” He’s out of breath and when you finally look at him you can see your arousal glistening on his lips.

You writhe on the bed as he presses a finger against your entrance, teasing the slightest bit of pressure before inserting the thick digit deep inside of you. His tongue comes down to replace his thumb against your clit as he slips another finger inside of you, massaging the spongy spot inside of you just right that you scream. The sound rips out of your body coming from deep in your throat as your pleasure courses through you. You can feel yourself soaking Lewis as he laps up your release, humming contentedly, like youre the best meal he’s ever had. You barely have the ability to push him away, too sensitive and he knows it, that cocky smirk plastered across his face as he finally sits back. You barely even register that he’s moved back over you until you feel his fingers on your bottom lip, your own pleasure covering them.

“Open up babygirl, need you to taste just how amazing you are.” His voice is soft yet strained as you let his fingers slip past your lips, swirling your tongue around them. He lets out a soft groan, his eyes locked on your mouth as you put on a little show for him, still half delirious. 

When he finally slips his fingers from your lips he trails them down your chin and across your chest, leaving a trail of moisture that makes you shiver.

“Think you can take more? Hmm?” His lips are near your ear, you can feel the hot air of his voice against your humid skin.

“Please, god please.” You beg him, desperate to feel him again after so long.

“Been dying to be inside of you since the second I saw you tonight.” He admits into the skin of your neck as he works on the button of his dress pants. You attempt to help but its useless, you’re a useless pile of mush at this point.

He moves himself to stand at the end of the bed, finally kicking off his pants before grasping himself in his large palm. Your lips part inadvertently at the sight in front of you. His bare chest is glistening with sweat, making his tattoos that much darker and showing off the prominent shape of his pecs, his tattooed bicep is flexing ever so slightly as he slowly strokes himself, his eyes wandering over your naked body. When you finally trail your eyes down, your breath hitches in your throat. You’ve been with him countless times, but nothing can ever prepare you for just how thick he is, just how long he is. He has a cock that most men would pay to have and he knows it. He notices your staring, one side of his mouth curving into a knowing smirk. You’re sitting up, crawling towards him mindlessly, desperately trying to get your hands on him. You don’t even have time to properly register it when all the sudden you're being picked up like a rag doll and maneuvered onto all fours in front of him. You’re not even sure how he did it, his strength and your delirium making everything happen so fast. Within moments you feel his body pressed up behind yours, his mouth coming down next to your cheek.

“Gonna make sure my girl knows that no one will ever make her come like I do, gonna have you screaming my name baby.” He whispers, his voice sounding like pure sex. Your stomach clenches when he calls you his girl.

You feel him lining himself up with your entrance and all you can do is whimper into the pillow below you. With one hand grasped around his cock and the other a bruising grip on your hip, he takes a second to tease you, giving you the slightest pressure at your aching hole before slipping out and thrusting forward to nudge your clit. He’s leaving you a whining mess before he’s even inside of you and he’s absolutely loving it. He stills momentarily, lined up with you again before thrusting into you all at once. The force makes all the air leave your lungs as you slump even further forward. You hear a loud groan leave his chest and you wish you could see him, see the ecstasy across his face. His large palm soothes down your spine before pushing down, making you arch your hips up toward him even more. He barely gives you a moment before he’s rocking his hips, your body still working to accommodate the size its gone so long without.

“Good girl, you can take it.” His voice is low, demanding yet endearing. He’s the one that taught you about your praise kink, always so vocal about how good you make him feel.

His pace slowly starts to build, his thrusts becoming harsher as he keeps pressure on your back, keeping you just how he wants you. You can feel yourself getting even wetter as you listen to the moans leaving his body, your own sounds being nothing but gasps and whines. He’s hitting the perfect spot, over and over, and you can feel your stomach start to tighten. Rarely have partners even been able to make you come with just penetration, but everything is different with Lewis, it always has been.

“Fuck, already?” Lewis asks, his voice sounding almost amazed from behind you, “Fuck babe, I can feel you clenching my cock already, you gonna come again? Gonna fucking soak me like a good girl?”

His pace picks up, determination behind each thrust as his grip on your hips becomes even tighter. His voice alone is enough to send you over the edge again, the sound of pure sex. He groans loudly as he feels you come around him, working you through it but collapsing over you. He lets your hips go and you're dropping down flat on the mattress as he continues to pound into you from above. You can hear the slick sounds of him fucking into you and it makes everything so much dirtier. You’re moaning his name like it’s the only word you’ve ever learned.

“That’s it baby, just like that.” He coaxes you through a groan.

He doesn’t let up, the new angle making your toes curl as his weight bares down on you. He has one hand on your hip once again while he leans on his forearm next to you. You feel him start to move himself up, hooking your legs over his hips, your back bending backwards for him. He slows his pace ever so slightly, adding more force behind every thrust, making you squeal and grab at the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck, Lewis, I can’t, I-“ You whimper, too sensitive and too fucked out to properly string a sentence together.

“Yes you can baby, I know you can, go ahead and give me one more.” He soothes you, slapping your ass in contradiction to his kind tone.

You blindly reach your hand out behind you, wanting something to ground yourself on. He grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze before pulling out of you entirely. The sudden loss of contact leaves you confused before he’s flipping you onto your back, spreading your legs and sliding home once more. This time he grabs both of your hands, lacing your fingers with his as he braces them next to your head. His pace is still slow but unforgiving. His pupils are blown out and hooded as his eyes bore down into your own that are now teary.

“I got you, m’right here, let go, I know you can.” His voice is strained and you can tell he’s trying to hold his own release off, desperate to feel you come again.

His lips attach to yours, sloppy and wet as he sucks on your tongue. One of his hands lets go of yours as he trails down to your cores, gently flicking at your nerves to feel you clench before settling on a relentless speed that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Say my name baby, tell me who’s making you feel this good.” His tone is possessive and cocky as he pulls away to stare at you, obsessed with your face as you climax.

You scream his name as your orgasm washes over you, feeling like a tidal wave that has washed away anything but him and the ecstasy youre floating in. You hear him let out a deep guttural groan as his hips falter, trying so hard to fuck you through your own climax but the feeling of you squeezing around him is too much. You feel like you're floating when you feel him twitch inside of you, coming for longer than he ever has with you. You revel in it as he collapses down onto you, a comfortable crushing feeling that makes you never want to leave the bed.

You’re not sure how long you laid there, letting him pepper your neck with sloppy kisses as you tried to stroke his sweaty back, your efforts not the most successful as you felt like jello. You could feel the comforting feeling of him softening inside of you, still so big. You still didn’t feel like you were inside your own body when he finally pulled out and cleaned you up. It wasn’t until he was turning off the light and climbing into bed next to you, still naked, that you really felt human again. As he pulled you into his chest you felt an overwhelming sense of dread, knowing there was no good way for this to end. You were silent, nuzzling into his chest, trying to hold on to the moment for as long as possible.

“For the record, I meant what I said, no man in his right mind would ever be embarrassed by you.” Lewis says, tightening his arm around your waist.

You don’t respond, just press a kiss to his chest, enjoying the scent of him.

“I should know, I fumbled you pretty fucking hard.” He continues, much to your surprise.

You lift your head to look at him, shock written across your face.

“I’ve missed you.” He says, staring into your eyes in the dark room.

“I’ve missed you too.” You admit, laying your head back down to rest on his chest.

“I’ve got some other events to go to this week, come with me.” His words sound less like a question and more of a statement.

“Excuse me?” You look at him again, once again surprised.

“Come with me and let me show you off how you should be. I fucked up once, not doing it again.” His words are confident, sure of himself in every way.

You’re not sure how to respond, elated by the fact that this is exactly what you’ve wanted for so long, and terrified by the same thing. Words don’t come to you, all you can do is stretch up to kiss him, your mouths frantic against each others. His arm tightens around your waist as he pulls you up to lay on top of him, your legs falling around his waist. You kiss him mindlessly, brain dead at the feeling of his lips.

“Like I said, my girls gotta be taken care of.” He says against your lips as he moves you to slip himself inside of you once more.

As you slide down onto him once more, feeling him fill your heart and your core, you know no one else will ever be good enough for either of you again.

#lewis hamilton #lvis44 #lh44 #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #driver x reader #f1 drivers #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton one shot #lh #team lh44 #formula 1 #formula one #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #Spotify

[merchelsea]

a year ago - max verstappen

pairing: ex!maxverstappen x fem!reader

summary: this is what happens when reader moved on but he didn't.

author’s note: being a mercedes fan and liking max at the same time is kinda bipolar, ngl.

word count: 673

warnings: sad max

a triumphant cry echoed through the air “a third time champion of the world, max verstappen!” it reached your ears as soon as he emerged from his car, having secured the second position in the sprint race.

you weren’t supposed to be watching, but you couldn’t help it. max deserved this more than anyone in this world, and even after all, you wished him the best. you tuned in to F1TV and watched the entire sprint race to see if he could pull it off.

you couldn’t deny your happiness for the drivers triumph, but you also couldn’t say that you missed being with him. it was a troubled relationship, and even though you loved each other deeply, it was clear you were never meant to be.

you had come to terms with this fact after your breakup, but max had not. in his mind, he held onto the hope that you two would find your way back to each other. he believed that you still belonged in his arms.

that's why he wore a serious expression throughout the celebrations, not even recognizing his win until he retreated to his driver's room to shed tears.

max couldn’t believe this was happening, he couldn’t believe you weren’t there to celebrate this with him. he never wanted to celebrate alone, and even in the midst of the crowd, he felt utterly isolated.

and so, as soon as he could, he left the celebration, rushing to his car, abandoning his team and the party behind.

it was not fair to all the people that worked their asses of for his conquest and the dutch was well aware of that, but he could not stand another minute of pretending like he wasn't looking for you.

he knew you wouldn't come, but he hoped that you would. that you'd run into his arms. that you'd kiss him proudly. that you'd at least congratulate him.

we all know that didn't happen.

so he did what he knew best — he drove. every road of that damn city was left scarred with his loneliness and grief. he hoped, he prayed, he sobbed, but none of his prayers were answered.

back in monaco, max put on a facade, pretending everything was as it should be. he was a three-time world champion in a row; how could he not be ecstatic? he had everything he needed, he was surrounded by friends, family, girls.

getting things off his mind was a easy task. all he needed were three vodka-cola's and a stripper on his lap.

that helped a lot to ease his mind for one night, cause the next one, all he could think about was how you hated clubs and alcohol. and how disappointed you'd be in him.

after a week, he quit, convinced it might somehow ease his pain. he returned to his previous way of easing his mind – driving. the streets watched him channel his emotions through the accelerator and brake, a depressing sight to behold.

until one day, he grew the guts to drive around your block. it was 2a.m. and by this time you were always asleep. he wasn't even sure of why he was driving there.why he was there.

a mysterious mercedes-benz parked in front of your house, a sight he knew all too well, raised one of his eyebrows sharply. why was a mercedes next to your bmw?

the pieces of the puzzle fell into place when he realized your lights were on.

"oh-" he let out. you were not alone.

he stopped his car, unable to drive further, consumed by anxiety. he didn't actually knew it was a man, but the thought of it made him sick.

so, he waited. waited and waited until it was morning when you emerged from the house with a man, with a bright smile on your face, and kissed him before heading to work.

you never got to see max, and he was thankfull for that because he was devastaded, destroyed even.

he never, ever, drove back there again.

#max verstappen x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 imagine #formula one story #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 masterlist #driver x reader #f1 x reader #x reader #female reader #max verstappen fic #f1 #redbullracing #rbr #rbr x reader