#max verstappen x black reader

[cialovesklopp]

prologue

❪ masterlist — ❫

summary — it's no secret anymore to anyone that follows f1 that mercedes is doing bad. something just isn't going the way it should. the silver arrows are going through a rough phase which leads toto to become a bit more creative about recrutement.

song — mercedes [ brent faiyaz ]

warnings — light mention of death and toxic environments

word counts — 5k

cia’s quick rambles — so sorry for the long wait, exams came up and i couldn't find enough time to edit this over. i'm so excited for this and hope i can make it justice to all the other good max stories.

— july 2023

there was always a certain sense of belonging that people attributed to specific persons or locations. often it was due to certain attachments and feelings people had grown for those persons or places that created this invisible bond. but it had never been like that for aaliyah. 

she failed to form connections, to embrace attachments to people or things. like a program glitch in a computer, she couldn't fulfill the command despite the correct codes. she never truly felt rooted in any place — she never belonged somewhere.

she was too smart to be here, to sit in a back with other people that attended this class of university. yet the fear of her own intellect hindered her from leaving it. going to university was like going to school again — one schedule and one job. nothing else to worry about for the moment. she was relieved of the concern for something else. 

going to university eased the pain of knowing that she felt like she would never belong somewhere. 

after her father died, all she had received for giving ao much love was rejection. as if an unspoken rule had been set up, that stated that aaliyah had been the cause for it. and it certainly screwed up the rest of the life she had lived till now. 

aaliyah had been destined to do great things — she remembered the way her middle school teachers told her that she would be the one to cure cancer. she had always been intelligent, not just smart — but terrifyingly intelligent. 

they would laugh if they saw her now and where she was. wasting her potential away at a simple university in munich. 

sometimes she looked out of the window and the resentment towards her family, especially her mother, burned hot in her stomach. getting lost in her thoughts meant her mind wandering off to far and opening boxes that were meant to stay closed. memories being replayed that contained secrets she wanted to take to her grave with her. 

she may be closed off towards others but it was an efficient way to live. to protect her heart from disappointment again. she did not have the space to let a lot of people in again. 

her heart had built a thick stone wall around itself after the accident. an accident, she would always blame herself for. everything was different from now: she was left with nothing but the void created by the loss of the only thing that held any meaning in her life.

now she felt like an empty shell of her former self, with no purpose or path to follow. the man who had said, a man with no purpose is no man knew what he was talking about. 

aaliyah was walking on an endless journey that seemed to have no finishing line, a particular hopelessness gripping her tighter with each step she took. and it felt like an invisible string was always pulling her back. 

tugging at her harshly till she fell back to where she started. it was a vicious circle, a haunting loop of pain — one that seemed to take no end. aaliyah was simply lost and no amount of therapy sessions could cure the inner pain she wandered around with. 

“just one more day,” aaliyah murmured to herself. it was her typical mantra she told herself everyday to calm herself down, to reassure her that she was not caught in her past life anymore. 

there were always the easier days and the harder days that needed assurance. days she passed on ease were often spent with eva. harder days however had her shivering in her bed, her entire body shaking and freezing. 

she sat down on her usual spot in her physics and thermodynamics that were part of her engineering degree, her mind shutting down again while her eyes travelled around the room. it felt good to be able to think of something else when your brain was working twenty-four seven. when thousands of thoughts travelled through her brain every second and seemed to over analyze every information too quickly. 

but something felt weirdly off today. the room was busy, full with more people than usual. this wasn’t a class for just anybody — people in here were ready to get their degrees in engineering. this class could compare to a harvard’s law class in terms of difficulty and intelligence. not everyone was able and allowed to take it and yet today the room was bustling with more people than usually. 

aaliyah noticed the long queue outside the door, filled plenty with faces that she had seen on campus but all unfamiliar to her. she was not one to usually look for socialisation when it wasn’t exactly necessary. in addition to that there was also a feeling of anticipation, lingering lightly in the air. she was curious what all the turmoil was about but at the same time, she was reminded of caution towards it. the less she knew, the less were the chances to be entangled in it. 

she smiled when her professor — who was her favorite — walked in and aaliyah instantly remarked that even he seemed excited about something. so she had definitely missed an important detail. but what exactly?

just like in every class, the professor began with reading out the attendance list, aaliyah lifting her hand to confirm her presence. she was surprised however when her professor then sent everyone else, that had not been named, out of the class. 

“everyone whose name i have not called for the attendance of my class may leave now. i’m sure you all have your classes where you’re supposed to be today,” said her professor loudly, so that even in the back it was clear who was welcomed and who was not. aaliyah turned around and was surprised by the large number of men who all walked out disappointedly.

the rest exchanged excited whispers, all giddy about something but she couldn’t care less. it wasn’t like she had any friends in her class anyway. she wasn’t the only girl that took this class but she was one of the few that seemed to excel in it. and for some universal reason, women found it easier to be jealous than to work together. 

their class started just like always, with one of them presenting their work about the mechanical piece they had been assigned to design as homework. the professor went on with his class, and aaliyah felt herself drifting off, her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier with every minute that passed. another impact of her insomnia that plagued her in the night. even running on several cups of coffee wasn’t doing it for her anymore, so that she resorted to sugar to stay awake. 

she flinched, jolting awake when there was a knock on their door. she watched the way her professor’s lips turned upwards, forming into a smirk as he turned towards the door. “come in,” he said and in walked a man, tall and formally dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black pants. he oozed a certain air of authority that had everyone quieten. 

the atmosphere in the room changed instantly, aaliyah noticing her seat neighbour’s eyes widening but all she could observe was that he definitely did not belong here. he was definitely overdressed in comparison to her loose grey sweatpants that she had matched with a sweater that had yale university printed on. the irony of it. 

her professor greeted the man like an old friend, making it clear to aaliyah that the two knew each other and it wasn’t a mandatory visit like the others they had gotten. however to her she did not know of his significance, completely left in the dark. 

“so for today we have a special guest some of you may already know,” he interrupted them from their work, everyone stopping what they were currently doing to listen to him. “he is an old friend of mine and owed me a favor. but i’m going to let him present himself.” 

the instant the guest began to speak, aaliyah could immediately make his austrian accent out. she was sure to have seen the man somewhere before but her brain, that was usually running at one-eighty, was failing her tragically. 

“some of you may know me from racing, others just from motosport — but for the rest who do not: i am toto wolff and i’m the team chef of the mercedes-amg formula one team as well as the ceo of mercedes-benz motorsport.”

— so apparently, they had a celebrity in the room with them. explains the queue outside, aaliyah thought to herself. 

“for those who do not follow motorsport as much: formula one is the elite of what concerns motosport. it’s the best against the best that compete there and the world of f1 is constantly changing due to this. as eighth time constructor’s champions we know that and what is expected of us. but for you, who are the future of engineering, i think it’s important that you get a realistic insight into what that actually contains.”

aaliyah now understood what all the turmoil really was about. they didn’t just have anybody in front of them — they were speaking to engineering royalty. not in the sense of wolff actually working in engineering but he was the reason the best worked with the best. because they absolutely needed to excel. 

standing in front of them with their professor sitting down at his desk, he began to speak and tell them about the world of motorsport and the constant changing requirements they had to adapt to. he instantly had all of them hanging onto every of his words, captivating them with the way he spoke about the subject.

the main point of his entire talk was of course mercedes amg and its evolution; however he also highlighted the complexity of the entire motorsport business and how the industry actually worked. something that reality was hiding from them. it was a big field that covered all kinds of sections. aaliyah listened closely even though she didn’t see herself ever working in that kind of environment. 

who would even hire her?

when the talk ended and students were allowed to ask questions, she found herself drifting off again and started to sketch mindlessly into her college block. it wasn’t that she shied away or conceived her fellow students as annoying; she just found socialisation exhausting and it wasn’t like they were going out of her way to speak with her. 

her existence was only acknowledged by them when they required something from her, leaving her to always sit all alone in her row. her presence faded there into the loneliness and solitude she felt comfortable with. now she wouldn’t want to change it anymore. 

after the whole questioning round, toto challenged the class to design a specific piece for a car to apply what they had learned the entire semester long. something that aaliyah was able to do in her sleep now. it was one of the rare occasions where she liked to let her brain run crazy to overanalyze every detail. to say that aaliyah was a perfectionist would be a clear understatement. 

it was the curse of a mind that raced ahead of the rest, interpreting sometimes more than what was needed and leaving behind a lonely trail that she herself couldn’t always understand. 

it was no surprise to her that she finished her sketch earlier than the others. however instead of just leaving it like that and calling toto over to see if she had gotten it right — which she had of course — she continued to develop her idea, letting her mind do its own work. 

it wasn’t really refining that aaliyah was doing. the perfectionist in herself would call it stepping outside of comfort zones — and as long as it worked, no one cared anymore that there had been one. it was something her mother had taught her.

gloria, aaliyah’s mother was no saint. and she had enforced the lifestyle to aaliyah of finding loopholes in the system whenever she could. last time aaliyah had spoken to her had been two years ago, shortly before the accident. 

possessing the knowledge that her own mother did not come by to see how her daughter was doing who was fighting between life or death — that had done it for aaliyah. cutting her mother off had probably been one of the easiest and yet also things she had accomplished. it wasn’t exactly a secret but it also wasn’t something she just shared with anyone in order to let the deep-etched wound in her heart heal. 

the whole trauma-dumping aspect and all that.

caught up in her mind, aaliyah didn’t notice toto going around and looking at what the students had produced. his eyes stopped once they fell on aaliyah’s drawing and a slight look of surprise appeared on his face when he saw her drawing.

it was more like the astonishment and impression that appeared on his face when his eyes caught her sketch — he had given the same task to all the classes, especially those at harvard, and while they had all completed the task no one had ever thought further than the solution. 

just like math they had solved the equation; found the x and that was it. they did not think about the correlation in which the answer might be related with the task or how they could give it more depth.

toto walked back down to the front where the professor sat and pointed discreetly at aaliyah who still seemed caught up in her thoughts. 

“who is she?”

a mishevous twinkle lit up in the professor’s eyes. “ahh, that would be one of my students,” he retorted playfully. 

“i’m serious.” he replied with a dry chuckle.

the professor looked at aaliyah, studying her in an interesting way, trying to take her all in again. “the student you’re so interested in is aaliyah prince. she’s one of my top student.”

toto nodded, his brain processing the information. “she’s smart. you’re teaching them well.” 

“i can assure you she’s more than smart. it’s all her brain.” he had seen where toto wanted to go. one did not have to be an idiot or live behind the moon to know that mercedes was doing badly at the moment. 

and he would be lying if he denied his soft spot he had grown for the black student. especially after find out out what she had all gone through. 

the professor stood up, leaving toto with a perplexed expression. he cut the working phase in order for them to compare their results. aaliyah looked up and secretly took her airpods out to listen what they had to say.

she did not need any confirmation to know that her exercise was done correctly — it wasn’t really to sound (überheblich) but she had designed the same thing a hundred times before for exam preparation. so she only listened half-mindedly to what the others had to present. who were trying their best to impress the f1 team chef.

a small smile made its way onto her lips when she saw the message her best friend had sent her. with eva studying psychology and ethics, she often had more time than aaliyah and usually finished class earlier than her. and the two girls had started the habit to always get lunch together when possible — it was often the one thing aaliyah looked most forward to during the day. 

class finally ended and she was one of the first persons to pack her things together and leave however her professor had other plans. 

“frau prince, könnte ich kurz mit ihnen sprechen?” he asked her and aaliyah slowly trodded back into the room. she suppressed the growl her stomach let out and waited patiently for what her professor had to say. — could i speak to you quickly

her professor pointed to toto, who was still mustering her with a skeptical yet curious glance. “he is the one who would like to talk to you.”

“me?” she asked perplexed.

toto nodded. “your drawing was very impressive. you thought ahead of the task and developed it to make it more than just a simple design. that’s exactly what we need.”

“for what?”

“a job,” toto replied in a short way. “we need someone like you and you do seem to fill out all the requirements.”

aaliyah looked at him confusingly. “excuse me sir, i don’t want to be rude but do you usually give out jobs to students after giving a lecture?”

toto let out a small-wholehearted laugh. “no, i actually do not. you’re a special case i guess.”

was zum himmelswillen, aaliyah thought in her mind as she looked at the man in front of her. and people told her she was crazy sometimes. 

she pinched herself, just to make sure that she was not dreaming this and still in class and stared at toto with wide eyes. she was no one special, she did not come from huge money and she had a huge past that she would prefer if it stayed hidden. 

aaliyah couldn’t leave, even if she wanted to. all roads led back here anyway. 

“and this job… where and what would it be?” she inquired carefully. 

“i want you to become your new chief technical engineer. well not officially but i want you to fill someone’s position while they’re on personal vacation.”

her professor smirked at her whereas aaliyah’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

“i thought you needed the best of the best? i’m sure there are thousands of people who probably meet the requirements you have and have the actual experience. i know nothing about formula 1 and racing cars.”

“maybe but i think a fresh pair of eyes would do us some good. and i’ve been told you have a degree in physics which is incredible at her age.” he reached for his bag and pulled out a small green card. “think about it and then give me a call.”

“why me? if it’s because of the task, everyone finished it and got it correct.”

“but they didn’t think further than the basic task which you did. you thought ahead, developed your starting idea and that’s exactly what we need right now. innovation. someone to think outside of the box.”

he bid goodbye to her professor, waved one last time to aaliyah with a small smile and then left the room. her eyes did not leave the door, even after he had left the room as she stared into the distance. she had already forgotten eva and their planned lunch date. 

she looked at the card in front of her and turned it around to inspect it more. it was probably the weirdest thing to have happened to her in the past two years. 

the thought of leaving, as nice as it sounded, also terrified her deeply. petrified her mind when she wondered whether she could. she had rebuilt a life here, created a new identity that was not instantly connected with the pain and trauma she had to go through. 

she wasn’t aaliyah, the stupid girl from back home anymore. who had mistaken attachment for love and fallen deeply into a trap that could be described as the demise of her life. the peripety if her life story was ever made into a movie. 

“i can see the wheels turning in your head from here,” her professor tore her out of her thoughts and aaliyah turned. 

she let out a small chuckle, staring at the card in front of her. “this is probably the weirdest thing that has happened to me since i started here.”

“could also be seen as the best thing,” her professor replied. 

“i don’t know how smart it is to start something else when i haven’t finished this. finished here.”

“aaliyah, you’ve always dreamed of doing this, getting out of here. and somebody just handed you your way out of here on a golden plate.”

aaliyah put the card into her bag. “not everything that shines is usually gold. this could hurt me in many ways if it backfires. and what about my degree?”

her professor waved dismissively. “i’ll simply write this down as a project. we’ll admit it as your fourth semester internship that you would have to do anyway.” 

it seemed easy, way too easy for aaliyah. it couldn’t be as simple as this. 

she grabbed her bag and was about to walk away when her professor called her back again. 

“aaliyah, please think about this. i know you probably think you do not deserve this but you do. let some happiness into your life again.”

“i’ll think about it.”

she nodded and exited the class. at least this time she would have something to tell eva in her class. she would rather drink acid than listen eva rant about her crazy sex escapades from last night.

the two girls were sitting on aaliyah’s bed in her bedroom, adorned with the soft rays of light as it took its descent and a bottle of wine between them with two glasses in front. they were sipping on the bordeaux liquid while she recounted what had happened to her today, the wine making aaliyah pour all her feelings out. 

the blonde sat across from her, listening patiently as she tried to console the black woman. too often the two found each other in this position, with eva either bringing the best wine or the cheapest vodka she could find. 

aaliyah always found a certain sort of solace and calm within her best friend. the two had met at a stupid frat party aaliyah had been forced to go by her roommate and had been inseparable since then. and over that time, eva had stayed by her side when she had gone through the endless trauma of her mother and had helped her get out of her toxic environment. 

they were connected through more than friendship at this point with the amount of shit the two had already gone through. 

“i have no idea what i’m going to do,” she sighed, swinging her glass absentmindedly. “it’s a good job offer — like i  want to do this but i can’t leave everything just here.”

“girl, the only thing i see is you sabotaging yourself again. i mean, what are you leaving here? your annoying class of misogynistic assholes? that sorry excuse of a woman that calls yourself your mother? i’m sorry honey but the only thing you would be leaving behind is me and i can take the family jet anytime if i wanna visit you.”

aaliyah threw a pillow at her best friend. “hey, they’re not all bad. we are five girls in my class.”

“and four of them choose to be jealous, racist bitches towards you,” eva replied sassily. “look, i get it. change can be scary as fuck and speaking as a philo-major, we humans don’t like stepping out of our comfort zones. but staying won’t make you any happier.”

she chewed on her bottom lip, taking in eva’s advise. “but you know how much they sacrificed for me, to come here and start over. how much it meant to him for me to do this.”

eva threw her arm around aaliyah, pulling her back  with the sudden force and making her nearly lose her drop her glass. "oh love, i can assure you the last your father probably wanted was for you to stick and waste your entire potential here. clinging to familiarity is never going to change things and it’s not gonna be the salvation you’re seeking so much.”

deep down aaliyah knew that eva was spot on with her analysis of her. but behind the truth hid so much more. aaliyah wasn’t looking for happiness and forgiveness anymore, she had accepted that she could never deserve his pardon. she had tried to forgive herself, to move on but she always stayed in the same spot. the huge amount of guilt that paralyzed her from moving on would never allow her to thrive and live. because she was the reason someone else couldn’t. 

and that person deserved it so much more than she did. 

eva grabbed aaliyah’s hand. “i don’t want you to stay here because i know you’re not happy. this entire city will always remind you of them. and you’ll never get over it if you stay here. you deserve to thrive and let’s be honest, that’s not gonna happen here.”

“but even if — this job is just a lot. working there would mean constantly traveling and not settling down.”

“wasn’t it your dream to travel the world just like your dad? taking this job would make it ten times easier. it’s practically your ticket to do this.”

“so you really think i should take this leap?”

eva snorted. “i would be lying to you if i said i want this completely because you’re my best friend and i hate you leaving. but for you, yes. take this job and be happy. it’s not only what your dad would have wanted for you — micah would have wished for you to do the same.”

she nodded, disregarding the pang in her heart at the sound of his name. her presence here, away from the turmoil she'd created, stemmed from the cascade of events that led to his demise. a single misstep initiated the unraveling, each consequence toppling like dominoes until the crash. it all lead back to her.

when the last drops of bordeaux had been consumed by the two students, the blonde stood up and bid her goodbyes to aaliyah, announcing that she had an early morning tomorrow. eva hugged her once more and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek — a habit they had developed. 

“please promise me that you’ll think about it,” eva had murmured into her ear and aaliyah had nodded, which seemed enough to satisfy her. her best friend had left then and she found herself all alone again. 

taking this job seemed to be so easy, everyone she had talked to seemed to push her towards it. but it was almost too easy which frightened aaliyah so much. 

she was qualified enough for the job in terms of intelligence. the job was not completely out of world for her but she could not imagine herself leaving. her mind had twisted everything to the beautiful life she lived in that in the end was just an illusion -- but an illusion so ideal and perfect that she didn’t want to leave it. 

it was like knowing that one was wearing rose-colored glasses and deliberately leaving them on, with no regard for all the consequences it could cost. 

taking this job was a risk for her, she knew that much already. but eva was right, micah would have wanted this for her. and she owed it to him to at least try. no matter how big the impact of her fall would be. it was the least she could honor him with after destroying everything. 

accepting this position posed a gamble for her, she knew that much already. but eva was right. micah would've wanted this for her. she felt indebted to him, compelled to make the attempt, regardless of how big her potential downfall could be. it seemed the minimum homage she could offer after dismantling everything.

it was way past eleven when aaliyah grabbed the card toto had given her earlier and her phone and tipped in his number. she was anxiously tipping her foot as she waited for the caller to take the call and was surprised when it only had to ring three times. 

it was now or never. 

“hello?” a hoarse voice asked on the telephone and aaliyah innerly groaned. people were sleeping at this hour, of course it was the wrong timing. 

“this is aaliyah, the girl you offered a job today sir,” she said nervously. 

toto gave a small laugh. “yeah, i remember and you really don’t have to call me sir.”

she nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “okay, understood. i just -- well, i wanted to inform you that i’m taking it. the job as interim chief technical engineer.”

“i’m very happy to know that you’re accepting my offer.”

there was no going back now, aaliyah realized. she had taken the first step towards a vast mountain that had no way to return back. there was only one path and she had just sealed her fate by taking it. 

“yeah, i just hope i won’t regret it.”

“i have no doubts that you’re going to excel. but remember: formula one is ruthless and you’re competing with the best now.”

if she had known before, how far people were willing to go to win, she definitely wouldn't have taken the position.

#max verstappen x black oc #max verstappen series #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen x black reader #max verstappen imagine #mercedes #mercedes amg f1 #mercedes amg petronas #f1 x female reader #f1 #lewis hamilton

[thatsdemko]

unknown - m.verstappen

masterlist | pairing: max verstappen x Hamilton!fem!reader. summary: when an unknown number comes across his phone, max can’t help but discover who’s sent him the image he can’t erase from his mind. warnings: 18+ + fingering (f receiving) + mentions of nudity + fluff (at the end). a/n: I want to give a huge shoutout to @monzabee for always being my inspiration to finish my smut, but also for convincing me to read twisted games (this ones inspired by that xx)

unknown

attachment: 1 image

the pinging sound distracts him from the current game on his television. pausing for a quick second, max glances at the unknown number and slides the message open as curiosity struck him.

unknown

can you see my nipples through this?

Max’s phone nearly drops into his lap at the second message. he barely got the chance to even open the image, the second message was far too appalling and his hands got too slippery from the precipitation building around him.

“max! come on!” the chatter from his headset snaps his attention from the black phone screen in his lap. red slips across his cheeks as he apologizes quickly for the distraction, and continues on like nothing happened.

though he couldn’t lie, the curiosity of the image was certainly looming around him. what was the person wearing? could he see said nipples? he couldn’t help but try to sneak peaks at his phone whenever he got the chance before the stream ended.

finally free from his friends, max slides open his phone and his breath sucks inward. you could definitely see your nipples through the sheer linen tight white top. in fact, if it weren’t for your underwear, you could see the very outline of your vagina.

fuck. max was unsure to text back. if he did, what would he even say? there was no clear indication on who it was sending the message. he didn’t recognize the number, and on top of that there was no face. the image was purely just the outfit.

max verstappen

a bra would be appropriate.

your heart fell about five stories down, and right into the pit of your gut. shit, you didn’t send the message to your friends. instead, you mistook the ID you tapped on for one of them, and it turned out to very clearly be your brothers rival: max verstappen.

unknown

don’t mention this to Lewis.

max verstappen

secret is safe with me.

while this made perfectly good blackmail, max had nothing against you. you were completely innocent and most likely too stupid to notice you tapped his phone number instead. he’d never utter a word to Lewis, and the photo would die with max whenever the time may be.

max verstappen

where are you headed looking like that?

y/n Hamilton

your moms house.

max stifled out a chuckle unable to believe that you were born by the same parents as Lewis. when it came to humor, Lewis used it very minimal, but from the select times max had spoken to you, you were the complete opposite. meditation was joke, veganism was impossible to follow, and driving at fast speeds was too boring. y/n hamilton was every opposite of her brother.

max verstappen

I think my house is a better place for that

your heart somehow jumped back into its place, attempting to thump its way out of its cavity. max could easily be joking, he could easily be serious, but either way you shouldn’t go. max was probably not interested in women like you, and sure the photo might’ve tipped the scales in your favor, but you weren’t really into vanilla sex like he could offer.

y/n Hamilton

you wish I was headed to your place like this.

max verstappen

I do.

fuck. you close your eyes, letting your fingers type the message and hit send before you can even have a single regret. max might be your opposite in the bedroom, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s got up his sleeve.

y/n Hamilton

I’m free right now.

—

twenty minutes later his soft lips are leaving trails down your neck, his fingers work the buttons of the top that sickened his soul into this. he was careful not rip the material, but he was so the opposite of careful when his lips wrapped around your nipple.

his tongue and teeth graze the sensitive skin while you melt against his mattress into a puddle.

you were so wrong about him. oh so so, wrong.

he’d practically ripped that white shirt to shreds the second you entered his place. his tongue was a dominate force, shoved down your throat, his lips were passionate and full of eager. vanilla sex was so not max. you could write pages about him, no fantasy or book explored the way max did.

his fingers. oh gosh, they could write stories about how delicate, and soft they were. how they expanded your folds and had you clenching around nothing. they worked wonders— magic perhaps, pumping at such a fast speed you didn’t have time to react feeling him floor you until every drop of you was around him.

“these,” his tongue swipes across your breast, lips wrapping around the tip of your nipple, sucking you like a baby its thumb. it was relaxing, gut twisting, and chilling. he left you panting, begging, and still he wasn’t finished. no ounce of him showed signs of stopping.

when finally he was done toying, done with whatever ‘warmup’ he claimed this to be, his large cock filled you, warmth overtook with pleasure when you felt his hips grind yours. the rhythm was nothing like his fingers, nothing like how his tongue moved on your skin, it was slow. he was slow, like he were to savor every moment of this.

you clench, you squeal, beg, whatever could come from you as noise. nothing was coherent, and max liked that. in fact, it quickened his pace with a smirk as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan his name.

“you’re taking it well.” his voice is raspy, husk and faint. a moan rippled through your body at the sound of him, you could feel butterflies unleash in the warmth of your stomach as you cry out and come on his cock.

“you’re different than I expected you to be.” you say watching him roll to the pillow beside you, his blue eyes fixed on yours, they still have that hunger in them that turns you on.

“when you wear a top like that,” his breath sucks inward, a simple shake of his head at the newest dirty ideas floating in his mind, “I can’t control myself.”

a breathy chuckle escapes your lips as you curl your body into his, perfectly molding together, “I guess I’m glad I ditched the girls for you.”

a smile stretches across his lips that he carefully plants on your forehead, “thanks for the text, I hope to receive more in the future.”

“you earned yourself a spot on speed dial.”

#f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fics #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 smut #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one x you #lewis hamilton

[httpsserene]

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊’𝖘 1𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 - 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖘

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞: 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫

summary: tonight, innocent and virgin!reader will be defiled, deflowered, tarnished—whichever word you prefer. from the moment she told them she was ready to lose her virginity, they’ve been carefully planning out a special night, for her. and shockingly, there’s not an ounce of fear, anxiety, or doubt in her mind—max and charles have gained her complete trust. they haven’t given her a single reason to believe that they wouldn’t treat her right. she couldn’t have asked for better men to take her virginity—if this is corruption, she’s delighted to experience it. content warning: 18+ only. explicit. safe sex. penetrative vaginal sex. corruption kink. oral sex. cunnilingus. multiple orgasms. fingering. handjobs. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. sweetheart charles leclerc. sweetheart max verstappen. word count: 3.1k words pairing: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader soundtrack: wet dreamz • j.cole

preface: word to my mother, i've gained 400 followers from this series alone and that terrifies me. because it means a 2k special is coming soon, and this was a crazy experience, and me thinks i'm not ready to do it again so soon. thank you for the love on this series, and i might do little snippet pieces for it in the future, but goddamn do i need to sleep for a few days to make up for the sleep i lost getting this done lol. enjoy loves, send me plenty asks about this series and i'll respond when i have the time!

prev 1k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents ↻

your thighs are mottled with bruises and bites, some sensitive enough that you can feel the skin throb. charles–who’s came twice–looks deliciously delirious in between your legs. his green eyes are wide and glassy, solely locked onto your cunt. his parted lips are swollen and flushed red from his generous treatment of your inner thighs. his hands have a tight grip on the tops of your legs, his veins popping at the force of his grip as they keep you spread open enough–your heart stutters as you realize he’ll leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints and palms on you too. you see the muscles of his shoulders and biceps straining to reach your tantalizing warmth splayed out right in front of his face but, he’s held back with max’s hand firmly keeping his head pulled backwards. 

“charles, give her at least two. you’re welcome to use your fingers.”

max releases his grip, and charles rushes forward to taste the wetness that’s already leaked from your pussy. the monegasque’s moan is muffled against you, but it still manages to be the same volume as the shocked moan that escapes you. eagerly, the younger man drags his tongue through your folds, relishing in the plush pinkness he never wants to leave, and shifts to suckle on the hood of your clit. you cry out, back arching at the focused pleasure–and max sighs. he sees the drool from charles’ overeager perusal leak out of the corner of his mouth; he’s glad he put down the towel you told him to get. sure, max is well aware that you tend to drip like a broken faucet but, charles can tend to get a little…messy, when he’s using his mouth.

charles pulls your first orgasm from using all of his energy dragging his tongue across your labia frantically, pausing either to draw rapid circles against your clit or tease the entrance of your cunt without pushing his tongue in. you shudder forcefully, hands flying down not to pull the monegasque off of you, no, but to keep his mouth on you. it’s not like he needed the help—he wasn’t going to pull off until max tore him away. regardless, he is mindful of your oversensitivity, and slows the assault of his tongues to slow swipes, humming deeply at the gush of wetness that seeps into his mouth.  and when your thighs stop fighting against his hands keeping you spread open, when he feels the tensed muscles go dormant—he pushes his tongue into you, happy your orgasm caused you to relax and allow him to slip in.

and, this is when you lose your mind.

his tongue is dexterous, firm, and unyielding, his plush lips brush against the outside of your cunt and only causes more bolts of pleasure to rocket up your spine. he’s unrelenting–he moves with the overwhelmed bucking of your hips, you’re not sure if you’re trying to move away or move closer, and it doesn’t matter because charles follows you without the solution of his moth slipping away once. he whines highly into your pussy, and the vibration only has you making sounds to mimic him. your tummy undulates, tensing and relaxing with every thrust of his tongue, and he shifts one of his hands away from your thigh to push down on your navel. he changes the angle of his head and his nose bumps against your clit from the force of his jaw working against your entrance.

the combination of the clit stimulation and the pressure on your navel, causes your eyes to roll back with a heaving chest, the orgasm dancing somewhere on the back of your eyes. 

“such a pretty girl,” max adds from where his eyes are stuck on your cunt, and you cum.

the towel underneath you has a wet spot spreading, and charles allows your thighs to shut around his head as your hips push up dragging your pussy on the lower half of his face to ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. this feels twice as intense as the first, and based on the way you can hear your blood rushing in your ears, and feel your heart beating in the back of your knee, you know you’ll never settle for riding a thigh again.

you attempt to squirm away from his mouth, hips twisting desperately to try and escape the pain-tinted pleasure of charles’ talented tongue, but the man follows every shift of your motions, with his half-lidded eyes giving the expression of him being entranced. it does end up taking max forcing charles away from you when the tears gathered in your waterline spill down your cheeks. and the sharp flare of pain from max tugging at his hair, clears the haze in charles' eyes and the cotton stuffed in his ears.

if his lips were swollen before, you don’t know what to call the state of them now. you screw your eyes shut to avoid looking at the pleased glimmer in his eyes, it only makes a surge of arousal peek out again. 

“schatje, i said you could use your fingers too,” max prods at charles’ shoulder with a pout on his face.

“i,” the man says airly, “didn’t need to. i made her cum twice, like you wanted me to.”

“ah, well, move out of the way, cha,” max hums throatily, “if you didn’t use your fingers, i guess i’ll have to,” your eyes fly open as you look at max in surprise, “do you think she can handle a few more?”

the monegasque pulls back, allowing max to fill the space without arguing, and looks away from him to pierce you with a lustful glance, “she knows what to say if she wants us to stop. let’s find out her limit tonight, maxy.”

they’ve broken you. max and charles said they got you to five orgasms that night, but you don’t really remember anything after the fourth. you vaguely recall charles eating you out while max rubbed at your clit (it was a hot image, there’s no way you’d forget that), but anything over four orgasms you can’t expect to process.

however, the night was such a pleasure even if you can’t remember the last half of it—they’ve absolutely erased your fear of oral. or, sex in general. you say they’ve “broken you,” because they actually have, it feels like your eyes have been peeled open wide from how they’ve indulged you. you thought it was bad enough when you gave yourself a friction burn when you were humping them like a dog in heat, but this is objectively worse.

charles emerges from his gaming room after his stream to refill his water bottle and you drop to your knees in the middle of the kitchen to give him head. max makes a comment about how addicting you taste over dinner and you shove the plates to the side to climb on the table and let him eat you out like a buffet. charles is losing a game of fifa to max, so you gave him a hand and stuffed a hand down max’s pants to give him an advantage (he still lost, so it was just a convenient excuse to get the dutch off). 

most recently, you and the men were laying in bed, letting your breathing slow down and the sweat cool after you let your legs fall open for them wordlessly. 

“it’s clear i trust you both with my entire being, right?”

charles and max pause their quiet chatter and turn to look at you, “oui, “ “of course.”

“ok, well: i want you to take my virginity,” the two gape at your blunt words, “it’s what this has been leading to, and i said on the very first night that i was ready to have sex with you. i trust you guys, and i’m ready.”

max, for all he likes to run his mouth, is silent. charles picks up his slack.

“thank you for trusting us, mon coeur. having your trust to allow you to perform the most intimate and vulnerable actions with you is something we thank you for. give us time, mon amour, we want to make the night special for you, a perfect night that you deserve, yes?”

you smile wide, and nuzzle your face into max’s bare chest who only chokes on his agreement with charles, and respond, “a night that i deserve. i like the way that sounds.”

the night that you deserve, comes two weeks later, in a week and a half-gap between race weekends. you have mixed feelings about flying air-max, but privacy is something that you can’t beat. they’ve promised you five days in a private villa in mallorca (after a few recommendations, courtesy of carlos), just the three of you. and it’s beautiful, the villa, the land, your boyfriends. 

you questioned why the vacation needed to be five days long, when they only needed a night to have sex with you. charles raised an eyebrow at you, unsure if your question was of a serious nature. max answered, “do you think one night will satisfy us?” your brown-skin lit ablaze, and you didn’t feel the need to answer the question.

the three of you fall straight asleep once you arrive in the villa—and you don’t know why there was a slight twinge of disappointment swirling around your mind. it’s not like you expected your tired boyfriends to fuck you after a greuling weekend; you’d rather them be properly rested and well energized for that activity. and in the morning, you’re woken up by max peppering kisses along your neck and charles tracing unknown patterns across your waist, and a brief smidge of nerves floats across your consciousness before disappearing. the nerves weren’t needed anyways, because when you try and deepen each man’s morning kisses, they slip out of bed and scold you for trying to ruin their plan. while your cheeks flame at the warning, your heart warms at their seriousness—they made a special night just for you. 

they feed you breakfast in bed, coax you into a mid-morning nap, join you for a shower, let you lounge in a hammock while max embarrassed charles in football, they join you in another nap in the shaded cabana, and by the time you wake up it’s settling into the evening, and the boys rouse you into preparing dinner with them.

the evening belongs in one of the rom-com movies max claims to hate but secretly loves. charles is playing romantic french songs quietly through the sound system, max steals bites of ingredients right out of your hands, charles is firmly kept away from any knives and his only job is to shred parmesan for the carbonara you’re putting together, and max pops open a bottle of wine with a date so old you fear to learn its price tag. 

dinner simultaneously crawls and flies by. the anticipation for tonight’s dessert has you nearly vibrating through the chair and you can see the amused smiles on the men’s faces. the minute dishes are set to wash, they lead you to the bedroom.

it’s like the first night all over again.

max sits at the foot of the bed, and charles helps you sit on his lap. the desperation tonight isn’t present; the men are thorough, unrushed, and plentiful in taking their time exploring your body again. max undresses you on his lap, his eyes not falling to look at the length of your body and charles is focused on peeling off his own clothes. the dutch guides you gently to lay on your back, and only with your permission do the two let their eyes wander.

and everywhere they trace with their eyes, they follow with their lips. from your forehead, to your brows, to your temple, to your nose, to your cheeks, to your lips, to your jaw, to your pulse, to your throat, to your collarbone, to your shoulders, to your arms, to your chest, to your ribs, to your wait, to your navel, to your hips, to your thighs, to your calves, to your ankles, and back up to your cunt.

charles has the pleasure of relaxing you with his tongue, while max follows after him with his fingers. when max removes his three fingers, deeming you prepared, the nerves are back. when you hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper, the nerves build. when you hear max hiss at the feeling of charles’ hands rolling the condom on, the nerves amplify–and you panic.

“waitwaitwait,” you rush out, sitting up and pulling your thighs clothes. the men freeze, and quickly reach out to soothe you, murmuring words of reassurance and reminding you they won’t move any further without your consent.

you laugh, embarrassed, “i-i’m nervous…”

charles coos, and sits at your side to pull you into a hug, while max rubs a hand on your waist tenderly.

“liefje, being nervous is normal. i know we’ve talked about how it’s going to feel multiple times, but i understand that’s incredibly difficult from experiencing it. if you want to stop, we won't be mad, answer won’t mind waiting longer,” max says, making sure he holds eye contact with you so you are aware that he’s being honest with you.

you pat and charles so he’ll loosen his grasp on you, and lean back flat on the bed, “will you hold my hand, cha?”

charles bites his lip for a second before he chokes out a “oui,” and locks hands with you. max has to let his eyes shut for a few seconds before he allows them to open again. the innocent lilt to your voice has not lost it’s attractiveness, your inexperience clearly showing and it still sends them both reeling.

max pulls your legs around your waist, and guides the head of his cock against your entrance. he leans down to lock his lips with yours, waiting for you to relax again, and it doesn’t take long. your cunt gives way at a little pressure from max, and the pop of the tip of his dick within you stops your breathing. charles shushes your whine, brushing stray curls out of your face and kissing the back of your hand. your breathing resumes when max presses more within you, and your face tightens and the stretch—it’s not painful in the way you thought it would be, it’s uncomfortable, with a slight twinge of pain you expected, but the fullness makes up for it. 

when max bottoms out, the two of you moan brokenly into each other’s mouths. max sees the uncomfortable look on your face and remains as steady as he possibly can, dropping his head to paint new marks across your neck while you adjust to his size. the two men are probably running their mouths, chattering away their praises at you, and even though you are already too gone to register their words, they turn your brain to syrup and one of max’s “pretty girl”’s you grind your hips forward. 

max hums at the movement, and carefully shifts forward to meet you, his eyes reading your expression carefully. your eyes are glazed over, and they dance loosely around his face before settling on his eyes, and he smiles sweetly, chuckling a little at the embarrassed tint that he knows rests underneath your brown skin. his hips slowly start to turn into a rock, and he brightens at the sighed moans of pleasure you begin to fill the room with. 

charles slides his hand in between your bodies to drag a firm thumb against your nipples, and the two men relish in the sharp squeal you let out–max choking at the even tighter grasp of your pussy. max shifts to rest kneeled between your legs and his next thrust within you at the new angle, has your body trembling against the sheets while a near scream escapes your chest, with toes-curling, and tummy tightening. 

the dutch coos, “oh, that’s the spot—right there—isn’t it, liefje? you’ve been so good for us, pretty girl, yeah? you deserve to feel so good, baby. take it.”

your whines, moans, cries, and whimpers only increase in frequency and volume as max keeps his precise assault on your g spot as his thrusts work up to a faster speed. the sound of your absolutely soaked cunt being speared open by his cock will never leave your mind—the slaps and squelches too enticing. your cunt flutters around max’s cock sporadically, and he turns to charles with a pleased smile, “she’s going to cum already, schatje. it’s a good thing we have a few more days here.”

you whine, taking your free hand and pulling max face back to look at you again, “‘wanna cum! please, maxy—i wanna–”

charles hand that was previously playing with your chest, slips lower and rubs tight and quick circles around your clit, and the surrounding shriek and tightens, has max shaking above you. he hides his face in your neck and his thrusts are movingly quickly now, deep and short movements filled with power that you can hear from the slap of his skin against yours.

your grasp on charles’ hand tightens, and your other reaches mas to dig your nails into his shoulder for purchase, and with staccato breaths, whited-out vision, and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth, you cum—and real pleasure coasts over you in waves. 

max slows the forceful rolls of his hips to slight grinds, pressing deep within you and relishing the way your cunt fluctuates around him, and with pure will he staves off his own orgasm while you come down. he pulls his head away from your neck, and searches your face.

your babbling nonsensically, words mushing together in a murmured fashion, with a blissed-out smile dancing across your lips.

“oh–,” max hums, “you’re so gone, sweet girl. haven’t even fucked you for real, and you’ve forgotten how to act.”

charles tuts, flicking max on the hip, “max. be nice to her—your dick tends to make people lose their train of thought.”

“i think she’s lost a little more than her thoughts, tonight,” max snorts, “i’m going to pull out, and you slide in, yeah?”

when the older man pulls out of you, you claw at his shoulders trying to get him to stay on top of you and back inside of you. none of their words soothe you, and max is very glad he’s an athlete and that he’s turned your limbs to jello with your first orgasm to make you malleable. charles is quick to press his wrapped up cock inside you, and moans deeply at the hot and soaking wet channel. your whines and tears at your previous emptiness cease, and you buck your hips up to have charles deeper in you quicker.

“max~,” charles moans highly, the call of his name slurred and clumsy, “putain–ah–she’s too tight, how did you not come?”

“years of fucking you, charlie,” max laughs, pressing a kiss to the monegasque’s temple, “make her cum pretty boy, and then i’ll fuck you too.”

1k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri@inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool@barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea@dreamingofautopia @jayswifee @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @sophia12345678 @benstormy @userlandonorris@xxniallxxsworld @starfusionsworld@hangmandruigandmav @spicybagel14 @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101@valent1na-ferrari @dark-night-sky-99@svinzlec @angelfreckless @gg-trini@tallrock35 @angelbunny222 @spideybv28 @iloveyou3000morgan

© httpsserene2023

#f1 smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #lestappen #charles leclerc x female reader #max verstappen x female reader #charles leclerc x black!reader #max verstappen x black!reader #poly!formula 1 #poly f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 x female reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfiction #serene’s chapters. #serene’s fave. #⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: cl. #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: mv. #httpss :// 1k special.

[cinnamoodles]

you did not kudos? you left the fic without a reblog? oh! oh! jail for reader! jail for reader for One Thousand Years!

#anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #james potter x reader #john price x reader #jake seresin x reader #jason todd x reader #ghost x reader #daryl dixon x reader #kaz brekker x reader #clark kent x reader #kageyama x reader #jungkook x reader #azriel x reader #peter parker x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve harrington x reader #simon riley x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #rafe cameron x reader #eddie munson x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader

[hookhausenschips]

As She’s Walking Away

Masterlist

Summary: At the Monaco Gala, Formula 1 driver Max Verstappen is captivated by Y/N. Encouraged by mentor Dr. Helmut Marko, he overcomes his shyness to ask her to dance, leading to a promising new connection.

Join my taglist here!

———————————————————-

Max Verstappen was usually a master of control, navigating tight corners and high speeds with unrivaled precision. Yet, during the illustrious Monaco Gala, held annually after the Grand Prix, he found himself grappling with a different kind of challenge. In a grand ballroom filled with the glitz of Formula 1’s finest, it wasn't the glittering chandeliers or the clinking of fine crystal that caught his attention—it was Y/N.

Y/N, a guest of one of the sponsors, was unaware of the stir she caused when she entered. Her grace and simplicity, a stark contrast to the opulent surroundings, caught many an eye, but none as keenly as Max’s. From across the room, he watched her, noting how she laughed, the way she listened intently to conversations, and how she preferred sparkling water over champagne.

Though they never spoke, every gesture she made seemed to whisper to him across the clamor of the party. Max, despite his usual confidence, found himself rooted to the spot, unable to muster the courage to approach her. As he watched, he concocted conversations in his mind, each clever line followed by witty replies he imagined she'd say. But when the moment came to step forward, his racing heart couldn't persuade his feet to move.

“I don't even know her name,” Max muttered to himself, his gaze following Y/N as she navigated through the crowd. Every time their eyes nearly met, his own would shy away, betraying his usually unshakable nerve.

As the night drew on, Max’s opportunity to speak to Y/N seemed to slip away. She was preparing to leave, her goodbye as graceful as her entrance had been. That’s when the old, seasoned voice of Dr. Helmut Marko, his team advisor, reached him. "Son, I once watched the one that got away disappear into a crowd just like this. I regretted it for years. Don’t make the same mistake. Go on, ask her to dance."

Spurred by Helmut’s advice and his own burgeoning feelings, Max finally broke through the invisible barrier that held him back. He swiftly moved through the crowd, his determination fueled by the fear of regret. Reaching Y/N just as she was about to exit the ballroom, Max felt his rehearsed lines dissolve into the air.

“Wait!” he called out, his voice more urgent than he intended. Y/N turned, her expression one of mild surprise. “I... I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to find the courage to talk to you all evening.”

She smiled, an amused twinkle in her eye. “And now that you have me, you’ve run out of things to say?”

Max laughed, relieved by her light-heartedness. “Seems so. But maybe we could start with a dance?”

Y/N nodded, her smile widening. “I’d like that,” she said as Max led her to the dance floor.

As they moved to the soft melody, the world around them blurred into obscurity. Max found that speaking to Y/N was easier than he had imagined. They talked about everything and nothing, from the trivial to the profound, and with each word, Max felt a connection forge, one he hadn’t anticipated but deeply cherished.

The dance ended all too soon, but as they parted, Max felt a sense of victory, not unlike crossing the finish line first but far more profound. He had rolled the dice, as Helmut advised, and though he might still stumble, he was no longer falling in love as she walked away. Instead, he was stepping forward, heart and mind finally in accord, ready to see where this new race would lead him.

#x black fem reader #x black!fem!reader #x reader #x black!reader #x black reader #mv1 x reader #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 fic #mv1 x you #mv1 x y/n #mv1 one shot #mv1 smut #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen #red bull f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 x black!reader #f1 x female reader #x fem!reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic

[blackgirlsrxck]

Krispy Kreme

Paddock x Driver!reader

Summary: Y/n wants Krispy Kreme

Note: This is just something funny that I wrote to try to help with my writer's block as well as cope with the fact that I actually can't have Krispy Kreme because I'm on a liquid diet :(

The prestigious F1 Conference had gathered the world's top drivers, including the talented female driver, Y/n, who had been making waves in the racing world. The conference panel discussion was underway, and Y/n found herself seated among her fellow drivers, ready to share her insights and experiences. As the panel discussion progressed, Y/n's passion for racing shone through her words. She spoke eloquently about the challenges she had faced as a female driver and the triumphs that came with perseverance and determination. The audience hung onto her every word, captivated by her presence and undeniable talent.

As the panel discussion moved to a Q&A session, one audience member asked a lighthearted question, attempting to break the intensity of the conversation. "Y/n, if you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?" Y/n paused for a moment, her mind drifting away from the intense world of racing. A mischievous smile spread across her face as she answered, "Honestly, all I want right now is a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. But unfortunately, they don't have a store here in Monaco."

A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd, appreciating Y/n's unexpected response. But beneath her playful demeanor, Y/n couldn't deny the slight tinge of sadness and stress that came with her Krispy Kreme craving. As the conference concluded, Y/n made her way backstage, feeling a mix of exhilaration from the successful panel discussion and the lingering disappointment of not being able to satisfy her Krispy Kreme craving. Little did she know that her fellow drivers had overheard her remarks and were planning a surprise intervention.

Lewis Hamilton, the legendary driver and fellow panelist, approached Y/n with a mischievous grin. "Y/n, I heard about your Krispy Kreme craving, and I think I may have a solution for you," he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. Curiosity and anticipation filled Y/n's heart as Lewis led her to a waiting car. They embarked on a secret mission, racing through the streets of Monaco. Y/n couldn't help but wonder what surprise awaited her.

As they arrived at their destination, Y/n's eyes widened in astonishment. There, in the heart of Monaco, stood a pop-up Krispy Kreme doughnut shop, specially arranged for her. The familiar scent of freshly baked doughnuts wafted through the air, and Y/n's heart filled with joy. Surrounded by her fellow drivers and the conference attendees, Y/n indulged in the delicious treats she had longed for. Laughter filled the air as they shared stories and bonded over their love for racing and, of course, Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

In that moment, Y/n realized the power of friendship and camaraderie within the racing community. It was not just about the competition on the track, but the support and shared experiences that made the journey all the more meaningful. From that day forward, Y/n's Krispy Kreme craving became a running joke among the drivers. In every race and event, they would playfully tease her about it, reminding her of that unforgettable day in Monaco.

But beyond the laughter and lightheartedness, Y/n carried with her a deeper appreciation for the small joys in life. And whenever she crossed the finish line, the taste of victory would be even sweeter, knowing that she had the unwavering support of her fellow drivers and a delightful memory

#f1 x female driver #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #daniel ricciardo #formula 1 #mercedes #carlos sainz x reader #max verstappen #lewis hamilton x black reader #f1 #monaco f1 #monaco gp 2023

[jellyfishsthings]

✨️Biker boyfriend ✨️

Your boyfriend has a motorcycle. And come on there are so many perks at having a biker boyfriend.

Having his destroying your insides while wearing his helmet because uhhhh.

Seeing those leathers hug his muscled body 🥵🔥 being all attractive as his legs wrap around the motorcycle and speed off in huge roads.

His favourite position is undoubtedly you on top of him. How could he possibly not enjoy you bouncing on top of his cock, hair flailing about as your tits jiggled freely in front of his eyes. Letting you ride him as if he is your bike. Letting you take control for as much as you can handle, bouncing up and down, rolling your hips and grinding against him.

“That’s it darling, keep going.” you’d continue moving at a quicker pace upon hearing him speak, upon hearing his praise, not slowing down even when you felt your legs pain — head only throwing back in utter gratification as you felt your cunt grip onto his length.

He would only chuckle in reply, holding onto you tightly, before wrapping your hair around his hands and slamming himself up into you, as he sees you in your weakened state. You can not hold yourself up from all the pleasure, giving in, letting him take the reins. The unholy sounds of his balls hitting against your cunt mixed in with your breathy moans and his loud grunts bouncing of the walls and only intensifying the urge to cum faster. He would love watching your face when he hit that spot, your body coming to a halt as you shuddered, eyes rolling back and fingers digging into his pecs. You would fall on top of him, letting your weight rest on his body not sparing a single thought about the mess between your legs.

Or think about all the little daytrips he will take you. Forests and beaches all of them then being plagued in your mind by very good sex and multiple orgasms. Maybe even on his bike trying to balance the both of you as wrecks your whole being.

#elena's smutty scenarios #biker fic #biker boy #f1 smut #remus lupin smut #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x you #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #remus lupin imagine #sirius black imagine #marauders x reader #marauders x you

[non-stop-imagines]

what about Maxie finding out that the reader hid the fact that she’s sick since she knows how protective he is. Perhaps a spanking 🙈 since he found out through another person #RepeatThatBlurb

It's so funny how often I get messages of people just randomly 'thinking of Maxie" 😂 and you can tell that we all have kinda just created our own delusional fantasy world Max.😚 Anyway let's get it. 💖

Just Tell Me When You're Sick

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Black Content Creator!Reader ( Halle Bailey face claim)

Word Count: about 500 words (again I didn't count 😊)

Warning: Reader is sick and lied about it, mention of food, spanking and slight NSFW description, Max is stern but it's because reader still doesn't understand that he doesn't want her to lift a finger ever 😚

Translation: lief=dear; mijn liefde=my love

_____★_____

Standing outside of the Red Bull motorhome, now that it has been mostly cleared of Qatar paddock visitors, Max had his fingers typing away on his phone letting you know how media day went. You were absent this weekend, as you told Max that you had to stay and prepare for an event you were going to in LA, but that was a lie. It wasn't a major lie, because there was an event, but said event wasn't for a couple of months. And sure, a race weekend without you wasn't exactly ideal for Max, but he was getting through.

"Hey, sorry to hear Yn wasn't feeling well. I know that's a presence that'll be missed this weekend." Carmen approaches Max with a gentle touch on the arm as he continued tapping out a long text to you, a habit he only just started after you and him began dating. He was at a part where he was reassuring you that he wasn't anymore snarky than he usually was during the press conference, but hearing Carmen's condolences made him stop in his tracks.

"No, she's just staying home because she had to start getting ready for a trip to Los Angeles..." He adjusted the cap on his head and puts his phone in his pocket, pausing his text to you. The squint he gave Carmen made her simultaneously want to run away and spill every secret she knew.

"It-it must've just set in. I, uh, texted her to let her know that she was missed in the paddock today and she replied saying that she didn't feel well and...oh." As Carmen read the text on her phone verbatim, her voice trailed off as she realized the mistake she made. "Damn it."

"And what?" Defeated, Carmen just turns the phone to Max so he could read the rest of the message himself. 'Makes sure Max doesn't find out, he doesn't know I'm sick.' was what it read. "You can't be fucking serious."

"Sorry, I didn't-I'm just gonna go..." Carmen begins to back away when Max pulls his phone out of his pocket. What he wanted to do was use it to teleport himself to you, but the best he knew he could do was FaceTime you and he didn't even want to do that. And he couldn't text because he knew the tone of his text wouldn't be conveyed correctly. He'll just have to wait until the weekend was over. He deleted everything he wrote and just sent a text that let you know that everything went fine that day.

"No, thank you for letting me know." He flashes the best smile he could, then heads back into the motorhome to figure out what was keeping everyone.

_____★_____

You havent heard from Max since Thursday, which was highly uncharacteristic of him when he was away from you for longer than an hour. But you had watched each session of the race that weekend, or at least you did when you weren't knocked out from your medicine, and had noticed how tense he was, how he was snippier to GP and how he seemed to rush towards his win this time, nearly 20 seconds ahead of Oscar in second. He was short in his interview and spent as little time as he could on the podium, and you could cut the tension in the cool down room with a knife, with the two McLaren drivers huddled together on the opposite side of the room saying very few words to your brooding boyfriend. He was obviously mad about something, but unless Carmen let it slip that you were sick, you had no idea of what it could've been.

You were in the kitchen, face burning up but a blanket draped over your shoulders as you attempted to make chicken noodle soup. You've made it many times before, but with your brain clouded by sickness, following the recipe has proven to be a challenge. That and you were severely disappointed that you had to use canned chicken as you were out of fresh chicken and definitely not up to going to get any. You had only just gotten the pot of water on the stove and salted when you hear the front door of the apartment open and close. There were no words, just the ominous clomp of Max's shoes dropping onto the floor and heavy steps as he headed straight for you at the stove.

"Maxie! You're back!" You try your best to sound chipper, but the strain the tone put on your throat was brutal, and your voice had an obvious rasp.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" He turned off the stove and leaned against the counter, his stern neutral face sending a shiver down your spine.

"If I told you, you know you would've stayed with me, even if it was a race weekend. Either that or you would've forced me to come, damn whoever catches what I have." You roll your eyes, an action that you immediately regret as it irritates your headache.

"Exactly, what's so wrong with that?" Max shrugs, face still unemotional as he reaches his hand out to feel your forehead, the heat of your fever radiating from you before he even touches you. "You're burning up." He whispers to himself while you go to answer his previous nonchalant question.

"You're either missing a race or I infect a whole paddock of people. And I refuse to be patient zero." Max shrugs again, his eyes widening briefly to nonverbally show that both scenarios were risks he was willing to take. "You're impossible. Geez." You reach to turn back on the stove but Max grabs your wrist before you could, keeping his grasp on your wrist as his face finally changed while visually observing you, eyebrows scrunching together.

"Okay fine, I wouldn't actually do either of those, but do you know how it felt finding out you were sick through Carmen, instead of you just telling me?" You avoided eye contact with him, realizing that it may not have hurt to tell him you weren't feeling, at the very least once he was in Qatar, so he at least was aware of the real reason you would be absent. He brought his other hand to your chin so you could look at him again. His face was softer and more caring. "If you told me, I could've made sure that you had everything you needed before I left. Like soup." He tilts his head to the salted water in the pot on the stove, a grin teasing the corner of his lips.

"I know. But I took care of myself just fine, fyi." You were playfully defiant in your rebuttle, but it still brought a subtle darkness to his eyes.

"You don't have to. And as long as you're my girlfriend, you won't have to." He flashes that smile he gives when he states something that he believes should be known universally, a slightly condescending yet sweet grin that made your heart race. "Which reminds me..." He begins to head to the bedroom, his grip on your wrist giving you no choice but to follow him.

"Reminds you of what? Maxie?" He pulls you into the room, beelines it to the bed, plops himself on the edge while seamlessly pulling you to him and tossing you over his lap, the smallest shocked shriek coming from you in the process. The blanket you had wrapped around you had long been lost, so all that was in view for Max was your butt, half exposed due to the sinfully short length of your pajama shorts, which was all Max needed.

"You just can't seem to get it through your head that I am here to help you. So we'll just have to try a different approach." His hand slowly gropes the bottom of your exposed butt, running along the curve before delivering a sharp slap to it.

"Ow! What the fuck, Max!?" With Max man-spreading where he sat, your ass and upper body were supported by his legs, so to look at him with the confusion and shock you would obviously have in this situation, you just had to look over your shoulder. It did unfortunately agitate your head again, making you groan and turn back around.

"I worried about you all weekend, lief." His hand groped your ass again before delivering another smack. Neither were extremely painful, but caused enough of a sting for you to want him to stop, despite the nagging part of your brain that was turned on by his sweet sternness. "I don't know why you won't just let me help you..." Another smack was applied to your ass causing another whimper to drip from your lips.

"Okay, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You whine frantically as you felt his hand retract again.

"Sorry for what, mijn liefde?" He goes back to groping your butt again, his other hand picking at loose locs that didn't make it into your quick bun that you put up days before.

"For not telling you I was sick." You yelp when he spanks you again after you admit your assumed fault, running his hand over the stinging spot.

"Lying to me, but we'll go with that. What else?" He was still massaging the abused area of your butt, and it was in this moment you realized tone never got harsh, which was something that intrigued you. He was never harsh or mean, only ever stern in wanting you to understand that he was there to help you. This was a new way of showing it, and you were unsure of how you felt about it as you felt yourself becoming more and more aroused with each spank, but at the moment you would do whatever you could to make it end.

"I-i don't-" Another stinging smack had you racking your brain for something you could say. "For-um-not asking for help! And for just not coming to you when I know I can." You brace yourself for another spank but it doesn't come.

"Get in the bed, love." Max helps you back off of his lap and get up from the edge of the bed so you could climb in. Once you were fully under the cover, Max pressed a long kiss to your forehead before making sure you had the remote for the TV. "I love you, okay? And all I ever want is to make life easier for you. You don't have to hide anything from me."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." He was hovering over you, a hand on either side of your head as you looked up at him with the doe eyes that make him melt everytime. You knew he cared, he just showed it in his own seemingly emotionless way, so you often forgot that he has only ever wanted what was best for you.

"No, no need for sorry. I'll try to be a bit nicer about it." He flashes you that bright smile you love. He doesn't show it often, but it made him look sweet, and diffused the admittedly scary aura he gives off. "What were you making out there? Chicken noodle?" He began to back towards the door so he could finish the soup for you and bring you more medicine.

"Yeah." Your voice got softer than before, as you finally allowed yourself to settle into the bed and be taken care of.

"Okay, I'll be right back." Max leaves the room and you turn on the TV, but a sudden onset of loneliness kicks in. "Hey Maxie! Could you bring..." You didn't even have to finish your request when Max came back in with your cat and your phone, which you honestly forgot you left out in the kitchen.

"Don't yell, lief. You'll hurt your throat. Text if you need something." He presses another kiss to your head before heading to the bedroom door again.

"Thank you, Maxie." You watched him leave the room, fingernails scratching the head of the cat in your lap.

"You're welcome, my love." He only turns his head to speak to you and flash one more soft grin as he exits the room again to finally make his way to the kitchen. "I am not using fucking canned chicken in this soup. I'll be right back. I'm going to the store." In quick successions you hear his keys jingle, his shoes clomp in the floor, and the front door shut.

#anon #black reader #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #request #formula 1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

[cherrymiffis]

where the reader is an F1 driver and people speculate about her sexuality and make up rumors about her with other drivers and she comes out as bisexual...

I also thought she might get involved with some of the pilots after her relationship with her girlfriend ended...

I thought of it as a not very big series, I thought of Lando, Max or Charles as possible romantic couples, I thought about showing her previous relationship like those twitter threads, I think it would be good and also show the development of her relationship with the chosen driver...

things I thought about the reader:

Brazilian nationality 🇧🇷 <3

23 years <3

goddaughter of Rubens Barrichello (could be daughter)<3

I thought of very specific things about the reader's relationships because of the photos I found on Pinterest <3

I just wanted to share this because I'll probably forget it later, I'm not good at writing so if anyone wants to just send me a dm 🫂🫀

#f1 x black!reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #max verstappen x reader #plot driven rp #alex albon x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 #summary

[pinkflower2003]

welcome to my masterlist! I currently write for F1 drivers, Harry Potter universe, The Beatles & Marvel!

My requests and blurb submissions are currently open! Let’s chat about whatever your heart desires. This is also (slightly) a NSFW page so minors do not interact<3

Ask Berry! (thats me!)🍓

f1 x Taylor Swift inspired masterlist - requests open

MASTERLIST:

FORMULA ONE 🏎️:

Max Verstappen:

Stay

Finding Our Way Home (stay pt2)

Loss Of My Life

He Just Comes Running Over To Me

Racing Hearts and Risotto Dreams

A Family’s Victory

Lucky Charm

Charles Leclerc:

Ferrari Family

Baby Blues

Lando Norris:

Overdue Love

Daniel Ricciardo:

Morning Glow (18+)

Summertime on the farm

Not Goodbye, Just See You Later

Carlos Sainz:

NSFW request (18+)

HARRY POTTER ✨:

Marauders:

Sweet Like Honey - James Potter (18+)

BLURBS:

Thigh Riding - MV1 (18+)

Winning Night - LN4 (18+)

#formula one imagine #f1 smut #harry potter #the beatles #f1 imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry styles smut #marauders #max verstappen #masterlist #james potter imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #the beatles x reader #the marauders #sirius black #lando norris x reader

[leclerqueensainz]

FRENESI (C.S 55) (EN VERSION)

PROLOGUE

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. X Louise Evans ( OC)

Synopsis: Carlos Sainz is a scoundrel. That's what all the women he's slept with — and the list is not short — always say after having their hearts destroyed by the Spanish heartthrob. Carlos Sainz Jr. is the worst scoundrel of all time. But worse than being a scoundrel is liking to be a scoundrel. But even the worst scoundrel can have his heart tamed. And when Louise, Carlos' best friend, asks him to give her a baby, Sainz finds himself caught up in a frenzy.

Long dormant feelings resurface, and Carlos realizes that winning the world drivers' championship won't be his only challenge.

WARNING: THIS IS A +18 STORY and contains: Sex scenes and explicit sexual language, reproduction kink, swearing and a few other things that I may or may not be forgetting.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

Carlos Sainz is a scoundrel. That's what all the women he's slept with - and the list is not short - always say after having their hearts destroyed by the Spanish heartthrob. Carlos Sainz Jr. is the worst scoundrel of all time. But worse than being a scoundrel is liking to be a scoundrel. Don't get me wrong, Carlos cannot be considered a bad guy in general; he is just a millionaire playboy who can't keep it in his pants when it comes to a beautiful woman. However, in his defense, he has always been a thoughtful lover during sex. He cares not only about receiving pleasure but also about extracting it from his "victims." He doesn't mind spending hours and hours pleasuring a wet pussy, or fulfilling a strange fetish so that his nighttime company can reach the highest peak of pleasure. In Carlos's mind, if his partner is screaming or crying for more, then it's worth it. However, being the cause of the greatest sexual delight for women also ends up contributing to his reputation as a womanizer, dog, scoundrel, heartbreaker, etc. So, it's no wonder that he is taken aback by his best friend Louise's request.

However, being the cause of the greatest sexual delight for women also ends up contributing to his reputation as a womanizer, dog, scoundrel, heartbreaker, etc. So, it's no wonder that he is taken aback by the request of his best friend Louise. — You want me to what?! — He asks, stunned. — I want you to impregnate me. — She says, biting her lips and staring at him with dark Bambi-like eyes. Carlos breathes astonished, unsure of how to respond. He looks around the living room of Louise's apartment, searching for any sign of a hidden camera. Dios! This must be a joke. Carlos is aware that his best friend hasn't been doing well in terms of mental health. But now it's like she's completely gone mad. Louise is Carlos's oldest friend. They met when Carlos joined Toro Rosso in 2015, while Louise had just started interning in the communications department at Mercedes. They would constantly bump into each other in the paddock, with her always behind Lewis and Nico, and Carlos trying his best to prove his talent in his rookie year in the category. During that time, it was just looks and nods as a greeting between the two, but a few months later, the first signs of flirting from the driver began. Always a compliment about what Louise was wearing, or about how her work was impeccable, even though he wasn't exactly sure what the girl did. However, Louise always rejected Carlos and said she was there not to flirt with playboy drivers but to seize the incredible opportunity that could greatly boost her professional career. And that was the rule she stuck to firmly until Sainz gave up and they both got closer to being two rookies who needed someone to trust. As the season progressed, what was initially just pleasant company for each other progressed into a solid friendship, and soon enough, the two were inseparable, of course, except when they were focused on their respective jobs.

This brings us to this moment, with Carlos staring at his best friend as if she had grown two heads on her shoulders. Carlos is neither dumb nor blind; it's obvious that he finds Louise attractive, and only he and God know how much he has fantasized about taking this woman to bed. But giving her a child - as tempting and sinful as the thought of hearing her moan and be filled with his seed underneath him may be the hottest thing he has ever imagined - is certainly the peak of madness. — Have you smoked Lando's weed again? — Carlos asks, as that is the only explanation that comes to his mind. — No! I am completely sober, well, aside from a few glasses of wine. But I only had them to gather the courage I needed to ask you. — She says plainly, leaving Carlos even more terrified. Standing up, Carlos took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand while the other rested on his hip. Louise, watching from the sofa where her friend had been sitting just minutes before, tries her best not to laugh at the situation. In Louise's mind, what she is asking for is quite simple. She is 27 years old, turning 28 in a few months. Throughout all these years of her existence, it seemed like something very serious was influencing her love life, as none of her relationships lasted longer than a year. Even Carlos had had longer relationships, with a fling here and there, but still, longer ones. Louise has always dreamed of having her own family, and the maximum time she has given herself to have children is by the age of 30. However, over the years, she realized that the only man who remains in her life after getting to know her is Carlos.

So when she finally broke up with her twentieth boyfriend, Roy, who was a nice guy but seemed more excited about plants than about her in lingerie, she decided to skip all the hassle of finding the perfect guy and instead continue her lineage with the help of her best friend. Of course, if he's willing to go along with this madness.

Louise isn't ugly she's very aware of it, with the amount of compliments she gets when she walks in the paddock or notifications from strangers and acquaintances in her social media DMs, she can't deny it. However, even though she's highly coveted, she hasn't found any man good enough to procreate with. She wants her children to have good genes, and that's not asking for too much.

She also knows Carlos isn't the most honorable guy in the world; God knows she's judged her friend as a gigolo dozens of times, but she loves Carlos. And he has great genes.

Carlos is handsome, very handsome, actually, a spectacle of a man. With thick, dark hair like a Disney prince, large eyes deep brown, a long nose, full lips, and of course, a perfect body. Carlos Sainz Jr. is truly a hottie. Does he have a questionable character? Yes! But he's still a hottie.

However, beyond the beauty the man possesses, what pleases Louise the most about Sainz is his dedication to everything he considers important, and that majestically includes their friendship. Louise would trust her life to Carlos with her eyes closed.

Carlos has always treated her very well, even after all the rejections she had given him during the beginning of their friendship.

He has always been kind, and attentive, and moved heaven and earth for her to have everything she needs, whenever she needs it. Does she want raspberry ice cream that's specifically sold in a city thousands of kilometers away from where they are? Don't worry, Carlos's assistant can take a jet and go get it for her; after all, it's not like Tina has anything more important to do than fetch ice cream from the middle of nowhere. All good.

Or when Louise has a sudden breakup with a guy she really liked, Carlos doesn't mind staying up all night listening to her cry on an endless call, even if it's been a tough day of racing and his body is begging for a good night's sleep. No, Carlos would stay with her. He would listen to her speak ill of Roy, Ben, Jude, Lorenzo, Michael, or any other bastard who had hurt her best friend's heart.

To outsiders, Carlos Sainz was a heartless womanizer. But to Louise, he's the nicest and kindest man she's ever met. And secretly, that might have also contributed to none of her relationships going anywhere.

Roy would never send an assistant flying miles away just for her to get a damn ice cream. To be fair, Roy didn't have an assistant, let alone a jet, but there have been times when he refused to go to a bakery around the corner from her apartment to buy the sweet bread she was craving. They fought, she told him to leave, and an hour later, an exhausted Carlos with tousled hair showed up at her door carrying a suitcase and a box of bread in every flavor for her.

And it's no surprise to anyone that Ben wouldn't stay up all night to hear her talk about a silly series or movie she watched during one of her long trips. After all, Ben is a very busy lawyer who doesn't have time for nonsense, only to sleep with the 19-year-old secretary who had started working at his firm. A curse, a middle finger, and three hours later, Carlos shows up with a bottle of wine and the hoodie he knows she loves and watches all the movies and series she wants.

None of these jerks would be good enough to do these things for Louise, only Carlos. Carlos is a womanizer of women and a great pilot for the world, but for Louise is the only person who really matters.

It turns out there will always be comparisons. No matter how many people she dates or tries to create her story with, no man or woman will ever be like Carlos. What they have is something unique and special, which goes beyond the barrier of friendship or even a romantic relationship. They were simply born to be.

For all these reasons and many more, she had made up her mind. Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro Cenamor Rincón Rebollo Virto Moreno de Aranda Don Per Urrielagoiria Pérez del Pulgar Jr. will be the father of her future child. Well, that's if he accepts and the way the Spaniard is looking at her, she might need a few more things to convince him.

— Carlos, please! - She says, pouting, which for a woman of almost 30 is ridiculous, but every effort will be worth it.

— Dios, Louise! No!— he says, running his hands through his hair in an exasperated way. - -You can't just ask me to put a baby inside you just because you're in a crisis!

Carlos throws himself back on the sofa next to her.

— This isn't a crisis! — He looks at her with an arched eyebrow. — Yes, it may be a crisis, but Carlos, I'm going to be 30!

— Yes! In two years, Louise! — He grabs her shoulders. - You're still young and you're a sensible woman, I mean, at least you used to be. — Louise digs her nails into Carlos' bare thigh, making him cry out in pain.

— I'm still sensible, Sainz! And that's exactly why I want you to get me pregnant! — Louise shouts, getting up from her seat on the sofa and standing in front of the pilot.

Even though Carlos is fighting hard, he's still a man and his flesh is weak. He evaluates every inch of his body covered only by a T-shirt, which he happened to know very well because it was his Real Madrid shirt.

— Come on, Cabron! Don't tell me you don't find me attractive. Do you know how many people would love to put a baby in me? — She asks and leans in close to his ear. — It's been eight years of you wanting to have sex with me, Carlitos. And today I'm begging you to throw me on that bed, or that sofa, or whatever the hell place you want. I want you to take off my clothes and fuck me until I have a part of you growing inside me. - Her lips lightly touch his lobe.

Carlos swallows dryly, the images of him bending his best friend over in every corner of the house, making her moan as he thrusts inside her without stopping until every drop of his cum drips into her... Oh! Dios!

Louise realizes that her goal of seduction is working with the way Carlos tenses up underneath her.

— Come on, Carlos... — A kiss below his ear — We could do this so well... - Another kiss on the jaw. — Imagine a mini part of both of us running around... - She licks his neck.

Carlos closes his eyes and lets himself imagine the scene. A mini him, or a mini Louise running around everywhere. He takes her or him to the paddock to watch him or her race a Formula 1 car. He allows himself to be even more daring and imagines not only the child already born, but also Louise pregnant with her second child, wearing a loose summer dress, with a big round belly and...

Carlos gasps and involuntarily tilts his head to the side so that Louise has more access to his skin. One of her hands moves slowly up his firm, dark-haired thigh. The sharp nail slowly scratched the sensitive skin, so close to his cock. Just a few more centimeters and...

— You don't even have to be his father if you don't want to. I can take care of everything, he won't even need to know you're the father and...

And then came the bucket of cold water. Of course, it's only because she wants a baby. Carlos feels a bit stupid for letting himself believe for a moment that the idea of making a family with him was what Louise wanted. She doesn't want a family with Carlos, of course not. She just wants him to be the father of her child.

Carlos quickly gets up and throws Louise onto the sofa. His mind was racing and a bizarre burning in his chest.

— What the fuck, Louise! You've really lost your mind! — He paces back and forth frantically.

— Carlos, what's the matter? - She gets up from the sofa too. — I thought you wanted me to be happy!

Carlos stops for a moment, his mouth tasting bitterly of anger. How dare Louise say that? Carlos has already made it more than obvious that he would do anything to make her happy. He would give up almost everything he owned for her, even set fire to Madrid if necessary!

He really thought that this was something that wouldn't even cross her mind. But this? Just being the cock that will empty inside her so that she can have a fucking baby — all babies forgive him - and then wanting him to act as if she were nothing to him, that's too much. Out of the question.

— If you want to play the black widow, Louise, you should know better than to think I'm the wrong guy for it. - He says, grabbing his jacket and turning towards the door without looking at her. — I don't care what anyone says about me. I'm everything women say and then some, but even so, I'm not an idiot who shirks my responsibilities. I expected more from you.

He opens the door and leaves.

Standing in the middle of the living room, Louise looks at the door her best friend has just left. She's confused, but above all, sorry.

#carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #f1 smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x black!reader #charles leclerc x leitor #charlos #charles leclerc smut #carlos sainz imagine #CARLOS SAINZ X BLACK! READER #lewis hamilton #f1 2024 #formula 1 #max verstappen #japan gp 2024 #china gp 2024 #formula one #charlos fanfic

[theemporium]

hello again!

smutober is still happening and I’m very excited for it, however, I want to kinda revive and remake the whole thing. the last prompts were fun and all but I wanted to spice things up a little. so, I’m opening the requests back up so I can revive the calendar!!

just send in either a kink or a trope or a supernatural au, and i’m gonna mix them into the current calendar. listed below are the boys I’ll be writing for, if you want inspiration, but I can’t promise that the kink you’ve given will go to the boy you’ve requested!

•formula one: daniel ricciardo, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, max verstappen, sebastian vettel

•stranger things: steve harrington, eddie munson

•marauders: james potter, sirius black, remus lupin

•nhl: quinn hughes, jack hughes, luke hughes, trevor zegras

thank you and don’t be shy to pair some boys up!🫶🏽

#cece's smutober #stranger things #marauders #f1 #nhl #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 x reader #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #trevor zegras x reader #nhl x reader

[httpsserene]

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊’𝖘 1𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 - 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖘

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞

summary: tainted, virgin!reader is growing tired of grinding against her boyfriends. she’s never touched herself before—no toys, no fingers, no fondling—the friction from a pillow used to be enough. but, maybe having something inside of her isn’t as terrifying as she believed. charles’ pretty pianist fingers don’t look too scary, and they way he raves about how talented max’s daunting thicker fingers are; well, she could be convinced to see what all the fuss is about. content warning: 18+ only. explicit. no penetrative sex. corruption kink. fingering. hand and finger kink. guided masturbation. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. dialogue heavy. max is a brat tamer. word count: 2.7k words pairing: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader soundtrack: pressure • ari lennox

preface: *laughs maniacally*

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max stated, “when you get your nails done today, don’t get a new set. keep them natural; you can get polish but keep them short and rounded with no sharp edges.”

you stared at max with a lukewarm expression. it’s seven in-the-fucking morning, and he’s woken you up from your extremely comfortable position tucked into charles’ chest to tell you that you’re getting your nails done and exactly how he wants them done. he must have lost his mind overnight.

“d’you think,” you croaked out, voice unused from sleep, “that getting my nails done will distract me from realizing that my thighs have healed from the friction burn?”

the dutchman opened his mouth to speak but you held up a hand to shush him, and continued scratchily, “‘cause it hasn’t worked. ‘n i don’t even have an appointment to get my nails done? ‘s not happening today.”

“i made one,” he responded with a self-satisfied smile, “it’s in an hour.”

“WHAT THE HELL, MAX?!” you exclaimed, fighting through the layers of blankets tangled around you to make your way out of bed to rush through getting yourself ready. charles, still asleep, snuffled unhappily at the commotion and rolled over facing away from the two of you.

max chuckled mutely as he watches you stumble off the bed towards to en-suite bath, “use my black card–i’m sure it’ll cover the late fee.”

slamming the bathroom door shut, your yell carries through the door, “I WAS GOING TO USE IT ANYWAYS!”

thanks to years of lounging in bed to the last possible second before you needed to get ready, you were exactly on time to your appointment. it’s a boujee “self-care salon” that you don’t usually go to but it’s pretty much impossible to mess up a soak-off and basic manicure. actually, max is paying so there’s really no harm in treating yourself. you go from a basic manicure to the most luxurious mani-pedi package they offer, there’s even a hand, arm, foot, and calf massage included. you leave a healthy tip too; it’s not like you can run up max verstappen’s black card, he won’t even notice.

by the time you get home, you’ve completely forgotten about being mad at max for terrorizing you with morning. but, you’re quickly reminded of why when he jumps you as soon as you walk in the front door, tugging you in by your hands as he examines your nails.

“sheesh,” you gasp, “can i close the door first?” 

charles, more awake but still disgruntled (he considers any-time before noon “too early to be awake), apparates from around the corner and walks to shut the door behind you. he wordlessy shimmies your keys and bag out of your hands, and presses a kiss to your cheek, “bonjour, mon coeur.”

“good morning, charlie,” you murmur sweetly, ignoring max’s general incompetence, “may i…” you shift awkwardly on your feet, “can i have a real kiss, please?”

the brunet’s discontented gaze turned to liquid gold warming your body with the amount of love that poured through just one glance. he leans in to kiss you but yelps, flinching away from you at a pinch on his arm from max.

the older man grunts, “bedroom first. then you can make out with each other to your hearts content.”

your legs have turned to mush from deep kisses, so you’re thankful to be seated on top of charles’ lap on your vanity chair. the monegasque has one hand fisted in the curls at the nape of your neck, moving your head to just the angle he likes as he continues to explore past the seam of your lips. he doesn’t allow you to pull away for more than half a second to catch your breath, all of your hums, moans, and whimpers of delight are caught in his mouth. the lust fogs your brain as he nips and tugs at your bottom lip, the soft skin surrounding your lips raw already from his stubble. the weight of his large hand resting on the small of your back combined with the overwhelming sensations has you shifting your hips rocking back and forth on charles’ thigh, yet you haven’t consciously noticed you actions yet. you haven’t noticed how max has been calling your name to get your attention for a while now.

“liefje, come here,” max’s voice has a commanding edge to it, that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention, “you’ve been patient like i’ve mentioned. so, i think it’s time you experience more than one of our thighs, hm?”

you squirm of charles’ lap, prying his hands off your waist when he tries to tighten his grasp, and eagerly make your way over to the foot of the bed where max is sitting–has he been watching the whole time? the monegasque huffs loudly to inform the two of you of how displeased he is at you discarding him quickly at the promise of something more. the younger man stands up and doesn’t manage to take more than one step in your direction before max halts him.

“and where do you think you’re going?” max asks condescendingly, he pulls you down to sit in between his legs, his chest to your back, so you can face charles, “only good boys get to participate. and if i can remember…two days ago, you decided to be a brat.”

the brat in question reddens, “yes! i was…being mean–but, you said that i don’t get to come, not that i don’t get to touch her?”

max shrugs dismissively, and he starts to undress you–pulling off your shirt to leave you in your bra, while he motions for you to tug off your jeans.

“mon chat–this is unfair,” charles whines, “let me touch her!”

“you want to touch her?” max asks, charles nods eagerly in response, “say you were a brat and apologize, and then maybe i’ll let you touch her.”

the brunet gapes at his boyfriend, stumbling over his words for a few seconds, before he turns to look at you, expecting you to help him out. you curl up, dropping your gaze to your lap and pulling max’s hand around you to play with it while he sorts out charles. the monegasque, too stubborn to do anything but disagree with max, clenches his jaw and fists, before he steps and back and sits in your vanity chair again. he crosses his arms across his chest, and turns his head up at max to emphasize his attitude.

“mmm,” the blonde’s chest rumbles behind you, he dips his head to press a kiss to your temple, “he’ll learn how to act once he realizes he won’t be able to finger your pussy, pretty girl.”

you and charles both jolt with matching gasps of surprise at the reveal of today’s sexual exploration. a meek whimper escapes you and max coos sweetly, “do you want to this, liefje?”

you nod shakily, ignoring the flush of heat to your cheeks and the way you press your thighs together a little tighter. 

“words, baby.”

“y-yes, maxy.”

“remember the rules: any time you feel uncomfortable, tell me and we can stop or take a break.”

“y-yeah,” you say airly, “ok.”

“good girl.”

max tilts your head to the side and lavishes kisses along your neck. your breath catches at the unexpected attention, you can only rest limply against max as he sucks marks into your skin. he nips teasingly at your pulse point and you tighten your grasp on his hand to prevent yourself from moaning embarrassingly loud. you let your head fall backwards to give max complete access to the length of your throat, and in the motion you make eye contact with charles. his green eyes are piercing–you can see the envy, yet you can’t tell if he wishes he was max in this moment, or if he wishes he was you.

the dutchman moves lower and focuses on bruising up your collarbone, tugging and biting at the thin skin and you’ve quickly lost your ability to regulate your volume. every exhale transforms into a moan and max’s free hand gets more exploratory as a result. his lips are wet and flushed red when he pulls himself away from the expanse of your newly bruised neck, playing absently with the strap of your bra and whispers next to your ear, “may i take this off, liefje?”

“yeah, yes, yes–take it off,” you rush out, turning shy at the sound of max’s amusement, “you can take it off, please?”

the use of manners quiets the man’s laughter easily; something about the way you use ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ unhesitantly in bed causes his brain to misfire. he rids you of the bra, tossing it at charles, who catches it and stares at max in disdain.

the older man smirks, and brings both of his hands to your chest to ghost the pads of his thumbs against your nipples. the barely there touch had your back arching, pushing your breasts more firmly into his grasp to seek more of the sensation. his chest rumbles behinds you and he steadfastly applies more pressure as he toys with the buds–your moans are more like sharp whines now, and whenever he throws in an occasional pinch you shriek, as your vision already blurs from this level of pleasure. you’ll cum before he gets his hand inside your panties.

you clumsy pull at his right hand, trying to tug it away from your breast to direct him further south, but max tuts disapprovingly and you cease your motions as soon as the sound registers.

“actually, liefje–you won’t need my hand for this part, only my voice.”

you tilt your head towards him to stare in confusion, and max brings his hand up to caress your cheek, “i’m going to teach you how to finger yourself, if that’s okay?”

you gulp, the pressure in your tummy only building, “more than okay.”

max nods, and presses a kiss on your jawline.

“be good for me and touch yourself over your panties, pretty girl.”

you squirm anxiously, but do as he ordered. you drag your hand down past your navel and in between your thighs, trying to keep them as closed as possible without having yourself spread out obscenely. max, obviously, doesn’t allow that to slide, and spreads your legs for you, draping them along the outside of his, his knees pressing outwards to prevent you from slamming your thighs shut. you whimper shamefully, but continue to drag two fingers along the seam of your cunt over your thin panties, the fabric beginning to darken as you start to leak.

“nice and slow until you start to get wet for me, yeah?”

“‘m already wet, maxy,” you murmur, biting your lip to suppress a whimper.

(“merde,” charles groans from across the room, throwing his head backwards.)

max brings his hand down to tug your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to the cooler air of the room, and moans at how your glistenting already, “shit–always so wet for me. keep dragging your fingers up and down, liefje.”

max’s hand continues to rest on your navel after he tucked your panties away, and you quickly bore of the slide of your fingers, huffing silently and nudging your nose against his jaw for the next direction, “once your fingers are nice and wet, you’re going to take just one–and gently press inside, yeah? you should be nice and relaxed, okay–if your pretty hole doesn’t open up easily just keep rubbing at yourself and then try again.”

you nod jerkily, and your first attempt at breaching your inner walls fails. you chickened out–after your felt yourself opening up, the pressure was odd. however, with max’s reassurance, you took another pass over your cunt and then tried again. and this time, your finger easily slid within in you–a shocked gasp pushed from your chest at the intrusion. 

“you’re okay,” max murmurs, rubbing at your side and navel calmly, “take your time, get used to the feeling, and when your ready you can start moving that finger, liefje.”

it’s odd–the feeling of something inside you. a little uncomfortable, but not painful like you thought it would be. the strange feeling passes quickly, especially when you draw your finger out and press deeper–it feels good? you think, it feels good at least. max watches the array of emotion pass over your face, and once he sees the previous apprehension dissipate, he instructs you to slide in another finger. the addition for another finger is easier for you this time, even though the pressure is multiplied–as if once you learned that this wouldn’t be painful you were a lot more receptive to the intrusion. 

and when your second finger pops in, the stretch feels good. you sigh breathily, and without further instruction, you begin to slowly thrust your fingers. max leans back and allows you to awkwardly fumble through your own motions, allowing you to figure out what brings you pleasure and what doesn’t. you mimic what you’ve heard girls talk about before, curling your fingers, scissoring them wide, pressing them upwards–and it feels fucking euphoric. your moans begin to ring through the room, and your hips buck dowards to meet your palm, pushing in your fingers deep.

“hm–you see why you needed your nails cut now, pretty girl,” max teases. his words go unheard by you, you’re more focused on trying to find the one spot everybody raves about–you want your vision to flash white, your toes to curl, your eyes to roll, your back to arch, your chest to heave–but you can’t find it. you whine in displeasure, kicking your foot out angrily, and begin to more vigorously thrust your fingers to no avail. 

“let me give you a hand, pretty.”

max gently removes your hand, a sob falling from your lips at the newfound emptiness, but quickly soothes you with the press of two of his fingers inside of you. you and max moan in unison–max at the feeling of  just how tight and dripping wet you are and you at the size of his fingers. max patiently waits for you to adjust, before he begins to absolutely ravage your pussy. his fingers are unforgiving; his rhythm is consistent, the pads of his fingers press firmly along your walls, and he finds your sweet spot after his second attempt of searching.

you shriek, legs trying and failing to slam shut at the overload of pleasure—max coos, ‘good girl’s’ and ‘so pretty’s’ falling from his lips freely. it’s a testament to how talented he is with is fingers that as soon as his thumb falls to press at the bud of your clit–you cum.

it surprises you, max, and charles (from across the room). it’s so overwhelming you cry–forget a toe-curling orgasm, you’e pretty sure you’ve just forgotten your name. your hips are frantically thrusting forward freely, and maxx continues to rub his hand over yout clit until you start bucking away from him in discomfort. you’ve soaked the bed, again. the dutchman tenderly pulls his fingers from the pulsing warmth of your cunt, and calls charles to the bed.

the younger man rushes forward, kneeling on the bed next to max. wordlessly, the blonde shoves his fingers covered in your essence into his mouth, smirking wide at how charles’ eyes widen, exposing his blown out pupils, before they drop to a half-lidded gaze as he thoroughly slurps max’s fingers clean.

when charles pulls away from max’s hand, panting heavily like he was the one who was just brought to a mind-blowing orgasm, max drops that same saliva-covered hand to grope at the bulge in charles’ pants.

the monegasque moans highly, hips thrusting forward to press deeper in to max’s hand–but he pulls it away cruelly.

“you better go take a cold shower charles, since you still can’t come for a while,” max orders nonchalantly, “you might want to put some music on while you’re in there. i would hate for you to get hard again when you hear me make her squirt.”

1k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarrii @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock@biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @dreamingofautopia @jayswifee @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @sophia12345678 @benstormy @userlandonorris @xxniallxxsworld @starfusionsworld @hangmandruigandmav @spicybagel14 @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101 @valent1na-ferrari

© httpsserene 2023

#f1 smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #lestappen #charles leclerc x female reader #max verstappen x female reader #charles leclerc x black!reader #max verstappen x black!reader #poly!formula 1 #poly f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 x female reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfiction #serene’s chapters. #serene’s fave. #⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: cl. #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: mv. #httpss :// 1k special.

[lucyrose191]

I usually write my Harry Potter/Marauder fics in second person and f1 fics in third person. It would be a great help to know what you prefer!

#formula one #motorsport #formula one x reader #seb5 #kimi raikkonen x reader #jenson button x reader #jenson button #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #james potter x you #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders fanfiction #mark webber x reader #marauders x reader

[falaihullo]

IM BACKKK

Hey besties, haven't seen me write in so long. Being a streamer kind of taken over my life so awhile but I want to co-work stream me writing fanfic for you guys. Let me know what you want to see from me. I will take request too.

-i will make a tag list for those who want it

-the hashtags on this post is what I'm more fond of but not strict

-please be aware of any mistakes i may have...i speak so many languages and slightly dyslexic

#f1 #twilight #carlos sainz #max verstappen #twilight fanfiction #embry call #jacob black #bella swan #f1 angst #lando norris imagine #fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #fanfiction #tangerine fanfiction #lando norris angst #lando x reader #ln4 #formula 1 #lando norris #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo fluff #rodrick heffley #max verstappen x reader

[hookhausenschips]

f1 drivers x their crazy girlfriends

#ln4 one shot #ln4 smut #f1 texts #f1 charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #carlos sainz imagine #oscar piastri imagine #max verstappen imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #x black fem reader #x black!fem!reader #x reader #x black!reader #x black reader #lando norris #max verstappen #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #oscar piastri #lewis hamilton #mv1 one shot #lh44 imagine #cs55 x reader #cl16 x reader #op81 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #red bull f1 #mclaren formula 1