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daisybianca · 4 months

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pairing: lando norris x femalereader

summary: ruining Lando's live stream is your favorite thing to do when in the mood.

warnings: female masturbation, mention of sexual actions, cursing words

(a/n): lando's recent stream look. I'm unwell.

YOUR HEADPHONES WERE filled with the sweet melody of Taylor Swift's "London Boy" and then you remembered that in the next room of the house you really did have a London Boy waiting for you.

Your boyfriend had one of his usual streams, and it was always your choice to step away from the place where he was doing them and not take part in it. You didn't like the idea of giving fans more content about your relationship than there already was.

By changing the song of the playlist, you settled on something more freaky, like the wreeknd.

Hearing Lando's voice and loud laugh echoing from the next room, you opened the app on your phone and joined his live stream.

Your username was a random name that only Lando recognized.

God, he was so hot.

Messy curly hair, an unbuttoned white t-shirt, and grey plaid pants.

He had heard your wish to let his beard grow long, and you loved every moment of it. Watching the screen intently, listening to his strong accent through the device and from the adjacent wall, you felt your heart flutter loudly. Your jaw nearly hit the floor when you saw from the screen Lando laughing at something and pulling back, spreading his legs widly while bending his head back.

Swallowing, you decided to write a message in the comments that only he would recognize "Turn off the Stream and come over here. Im in the mood."

A few seconds later, he read it. He didn't say anything. He just smiled.

Again, you chose to write the same comment in case he didn't pay much attention to it the first time.

"I'm not shutting down the live. If anyone wants to tell me something, they can come here and tell me themselves."

You smiled and turned off your phone.

Is that how he wanted it? With games?

He asked and shall receive.

You got out of bed, opening your closet and wearing the most revealing and slutty piece of clothing you owned. You also put on a pair of high heels and began to walk slowly towards the next room.

The door was closed so you touched the handle and began to open it gently.

Two beautiful eyes met yours. Then they scanned you from head to toes.

Whatever Lando was trying to tell his viewers was now forever gone.

His jaw closed and he licked his lips. His eyes were on the verge of popping out of their sockets.

Bringing a finger to your lips, you murmued "Shhh."

You felt his eyes follow you as you closed the door and sat comfortably on the couch across from him.

You weren't, of course, visible on the camera. And your boyfriend did his best not to show his viewers the uncomfortable situation he was in. He kept talking, but you were sure he didn't understand what he was saying either.

You stopped looking at him and tried to forget the fact that you had to be discreet because thousands of people were somehow in the room with you.

Spreading your legs, you pushed your warm hand where you wished Lando's was right now.

You immediately shuddered at the very first contact. Twisting your body a little, you gave your boyfriend a better angle of your wet--dripping actually--spot.

His eyes never abandoned you. At one point, you heard him hissing plaid from his breath. "Fuck." His voice made you shudder. "Thats it." He said and closed the live show without saying anything else to his audience.

You stopped the movements and touches on your body and looked at him throwing the headphones on the chair and walking briskly over to you.

That's my boy.

"You want to fucking make me come in front of thousands of people? Huh?" He walked towards you and started unbuttoning his pants. You just smirked and bit your bottom lip. "Acting like a little brat, getting treated like one, right?" He grabbed your neck and forced you to him. After taking one huge taste of your lips, he let you down and removed his white t-shirt. "Open your legs. You're lucky I didn't choose to fuck you live, baby."

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daisybianca · 5 months

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pairing: lewis hamilton x yn

summary: lewis is kind of a mafia type of guy here, but he still remains the best f1 driver in history with 8 championships (!). mafia means that he kinda kills people. he's always hot put now he is double hot. idk if that's even possible, but anyway. you're his girl, and he sees that someone made a bruise on your hand. spoiler alert: i doesn't end well for the guilty man.

warnings: lots of cursing words, sexual actions, mentions of death, etc

(a/n): it is written in 1 pov, from his point of view. though it couldn't get any hotter? nah, it can.

WHEN I UNLOCK my mansion's door and come see my girlfriend crying, three completely different options pass through my mind.

One. Killing someone.

Two. Making someone regret.

Three. Doing both of those after kissing my woman's tears until the don't exist anymore.

I rush to her on the couch, not even bothering to shut the door behind me. "What happened, baby?" I get on my knees and try to hold her close to me. She doesn't meet my gaze. She's hidden her face behind her little hands, but I can still take a glimpse of her scorching hot, red cheeks. "Hey, y/n, talk to me." I try to persuade her, even though it seems impossible.

"P-please," she stutters, and something dark and colorful captures my attention on her left wrist.

Fuck.

It's a bruise. A fucking bruise. A huge one to be exact.

I try to compose myself. It's not even enough. I think my jawline starts to tremble, and I don't even notice at first. "Y/N," I force her to look at me, forcing her hands away off her beautiful face. Her features are soft but her precious eyes have turned swollen and her lips are tighter than ever. "Who did this to you?" The words come out sharp. I don't even think about them to be honest.

She is my fucking woman. These are the rules. Nobody is allowed to touch her in a way that she doesn't want to. Not even me.

I cup her small face with both my hands. "Who hurt you, baby?"

I hear a soft cry and then she tries to speak again but doesn't manage to do it properly without stuttering.

Fuck, I won't look good in jail clothing.

I bit my lip in order to not lose it just at this fucking moment. My fists become a ball. My girl notices and places her little ones over my hands to stop the shaking.

"Baby, please," I mouth. "Tell me who the bastard is, and I swear, he'll never see sunlight again to touch you." Forcing myself to stand up, in a matter of seconds, I sit on the couch, and she's moved on my lap. I think I'm losing my mind each time she looks at me, and I don't know who to kill. "Just tell me a name, Y/N."

She finally stops crying. Fuck.

My heart jumps each time she attempts to speak but is unable to due to the silent sobs.

A few seconds pass.

A few more, too.

Eventually, I feel a hand pressing on my chest and immediately blood rushes straight to my cock.

Damn it.

Of course, my dick doesn't get the whole situation. It has a whole brain of its one. In fact, we are under hard circumstances right now. And surely, there can't be anything harder than that at the moment.

She hides her face in my neck. I place my hand on the back of it and wait.

I think my blood pressure is on its fucking limits when she turns to face me. "It's my ex." She blurts out suddenly. I want to laugh but I don't.

Oh this fucking bastard again... Though we were done with him by the time I threatened him with his life if he ever got close to my girl again. But he definitely isn't the type of guy loyal to anything. Not to promises, not to threats, not even to his ex-girlfriend.

"He asked to meet me. I said no, but he wouldn't understand. He was waiting outside my place this morning, claiming he'd like to talk. I wanted to get away from him, but he grabbed my arm and..." her voice breaks.

I hold her for a few seconds as the sobs initiate again. Afterward, I get up and make a very important call. Returning, I am very pleased to meet a much-better-looking, without-any-tears woman sitting on the couch and scrolling through her phone.

Noticing me, she looks at me. I try to smile. "He'll be dead till midnight." Sitting next to her, I take her on my lap and kiss the dry tears off her cheeks.

And then I start undressing her, not because my dick is asking for it since one hour ago, but because she seems in the mood for it.

"I just want you to fuck me, Lewis." She says as I press my palm around her neck and spread wet kissing along her breasts. "Fuck me like you hate me."

I smile. "Baby, I could never hate you."

"Just do it for an hour," she moans against my ear. "Please."

I stop to look at her, laughing. "An hour?" I rise my eyebrows. "Love, you underestimate me."

She laughs too, and we're off to upstairs, where one of the mansion's bedrooms is located.

I want to make love to her, truth to be told. Passionate and delicate. But she asked for a rough fuck.

She knows I'm a man capable of doing both. So I proceeded to doing them.

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daisybianca · 7 months

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pairing: carlos sainz jr x femalereader

summary: carlos wants you to be his cowgirl.

warnings: mostly fluff, slight mentions of sexual activities.

SCROLLING ON IG, a sight blessed your eyes and surely made your day a little more interesting.

Your boyfriend had posted a fresh new photo and a video on IG. And it definitely was not something you could just like and scroll past.

Fuck, he was so, so...

Hot. And sweat. And kind. And his hair was messy. And his voice ridiculously harsh. And his accent is too cute.

His eyes, though... They were glistening. Bright just like dimonds.

How the hell were you so lucky?

And horny...?

A hand caressed your cheek, retrieving you from the dead of the sleep.

You opened your eyes after feeling a pair of soft and wet lips touching your cheek, then neck, and hand.

"Babe..."

"I'm back, love." Carlos smelled like vanilla. Your favorite. "Sorry to wake you up. You were just... you looked so beautiful." Carlos pulled you in his firm embrace, his big arms locking you close to him as if you were his captive.

"You think I'm beautiful while asleep?" You laughed, smelling his intoxicating aroma. "My mom used to tell me I look like a raccoon."

Carlos chuckled. "I assure you, baby, you don't look like a raccoon at all." He said. "I'd say you look like an angel."

The soft light of the bedside lamp illuminated your face as Carlos turned the lights on.

You yawned and stretched your arms up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "What time is it?" you asked, still half-asleep.

"It's late," he replied, glancing at the clock. "Go back to sleep if you want to, baby."

"No." You curled up under the covers and nuzzled into his chest, resting your head on his chest. "I'm glad you're here," you said softly. "I missed you."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Of course I'm here," he said. "I missed you too, (y/n)." His lips found your temple.

You smiled and closed your eyes, feeling content and warm in his embrace. "I love you," you murmured.

He caressed your hair lovingly. "I love you too," carlos said, his voice gentle and tender.

At first, you tried to dorce yourself into sleep again, but then a sudden thought popped up. "Hey... about the post you made this morning..."

"Yeah? Did you like it?"

"Yes, well.." you hesitated for a brief moment. "Have I ever told you I adore your puppy eyes?"

Carlos laughed. "My what?"

"Your puppy eyes. Don't tell me you've never read your comments."

"What comments?" He looked at you confused.

"Under your posts." You replied. "Girls and even men are thirsting over you every day. I gotta admit I am one of them too. Proudly."

"Hmm," Carlos kissed your nose and cheek. "Why do you like my puppy eyes then?"

"'Cause..." you hesitated, trying to find the rught words ro describe what you actually felt.

"Go on."

This could only be said in one way.

"It kind of..." You looked up at him. His arms were still locked around you. "It kind of makes me want to ride you."

"Kind of?" Carlos chuckled. After a few seconds of silence, he turned to look at you. Serious this time. "Do it."

"What?"

"Do it, baby." Carlos repeated. "Be my cowgirl."

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daisybianca · 7 months

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pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader

summary: seb is your professor.

warnings: implied sexual actions

"MRS (Y/L/N), do you have any questions on the topic?'' Professor's voice mentioning your name dragged you out of your very inappropriate and constantly-existing fake scenarios.

Or maybe flashbacks.

Raising your gaze, your eyes met a pair of blue eyes across the lecture room. You had to get a moment to compose yourself. His blue stare was intensely focused on you behind your desk and his silhouette had already started making small but confident steps towards you.

Sebastian's blond hair was kind of messy and his thick glasses were honestly the sluttiest and most filthy thing you had ever encountered.

He was now a few feet away. Maybe five. "Did someone cut your tongue, (y/l/n)?''

No, but definitely someone used it for his own pleasure last night, professor.

"No," a weak voice escaped from you.

His blue eyes narrowed as if he was studying you, waiting for something more.

Thank God the class consisted of the stupidest people on the planet. Someone smarter would've already figured out there was something between you and Mr Vettel.

Sebastian came to a halt right in front of your desk. Nick and Stella next to you were fortunately enough minding their own business. Just like the rest of the class.

"No, what?" He asked.

You had to be shallow in order to not choke on literal air and saliva. "N-no, sir."

Seb's beautiful eyes did not leave yours. He watched your expression for a brief moment, which appeared as an endless eternity from your point of view. Then, he got up, arms crossed on his chest and intense veins produring, and walked to his own desk a few feet away. "See me after class, Mrs (y/l/n)." He exclaimed and turned to look at you one last time. "And don't run away thinking I will forget about it. I won't. There's a lesson to be done about the things you must and must not do."

You took a deep breath.

You knew what he meant about telling you to meet him after class.

You knew what he wanted.

Knew what he desired.

Knew what he would take.

So, you just nodded like the good girl he wants you to be for him. "Yes, sir."

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daisybianca · 7 months

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pairing: lando norris x femalereader

summary: max was your ex who chose to cheat on you. now he wants you back. too bad you're already someone else's...

warnings: cursing words, possessiveness

(a/n): don't get me wrong, i love max. soneone had to be the bad guy, though.

WHEN SOMEONE KNOCKED on your door at ten in the evening, you didn't expect it to be Max. He was holding flowers in his hand and was completely soaked from the rain.

He looked... well, he was fine.

Just like you remembered him.

Tall, strong, blond hair, dreamy but also empty eyes.

You could see absolutely no emotion in him.

He had been a chapter in your life someday. A really important one, you had to admit. But now you had already turned the page.

Did he even know that?

“(y/n)… um… hi,” he said, his eyes glistening.

Hi? Really?

Fuck no.

You were sure he'd have something better to say to those tall, blond Germans he fucked while you still had a relationship with him.

"I'm so, so sorry." He took a breath. "You're not answering my calls or texts, so I came here so I could speak to you myself."

Wrong choice.

"Please, let me talk to you, baby."

Before you could even take a breath to answer, a voice came from behind you.

"Honey, who are you talking to over there?" Lando opened the door wide enough for Max's face to be revealed. Max's red face.

"What the hell?" Max took a small step back, his expression almost too funny for you to handle. "Lando?"

"Max." Lando stepped ahead, protectively covering your body with his, fully filling Max's view so he couldn't see you hidden beside him.

Neither of the three of you knew what to say at that moment, and you just stared at each other for a few seconds.

"What are you doing here?" Max's question was totally out of context. You could tell he was astonished.

"Livin', actually." Lando responded, his British accent kicking in. "What are you doing here?" His beautiful eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Stopped by to see my girl," Max raised his chin up.

Lando laughed. You almost let a giggle escape as well.

"Well, let me clarify," Lando started, dramatically clearing his voice as if he were to give a speech. "This is my home," he mentioned to the apartment around us. "This is my soon wife-to-be," His hand wrapped around your back possessively. "And these fucking flowers are for the trash can." He said and grabbed the door's handle. "Thank you for stopping by. Also, make sure you shove these up your ass. She's allergic to gardenias, you stupid piece of shit."

Lando closed the door with a loud sound.

A few seconds passed, and he turned to look at you. Before he could say anything, you felt a tickle in your nose and gave up to the sneezing.

You sneezed once.

Twice.

Three times in a row.

Before the fourth one, Lando had already picked you up, locking you in his hands. "Sometimes you make me wonder about your taste in men."

You laughed before sneezing again. "He's not a man."

"Yeah, I know." Lando replied, placing a small peck on your lips. "He's the stupidest boy I know."

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daisybianca · 8 months

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pairing: lando norris x femalereader

summary: lando seems too innocent sometimes. however, as your boyfriend, his hidden kinks start to unveil themselves. oh, and they're very, very hot.

warnings: cursing words, sexual activities, female pleasuring

"DO YOU HIDE any of your kinks from me, baby?" You asked, glaring at your boyfriend as his soft hair caressed your flesh. His beautiful face was buried between your legs, and his features lit up once you exclaimed the words.

"What?" His accent kicked in. His colorful eyes narrowed and a smile appeared on his lips.

"I'm no fool. You know what a kink is." You giggled and scratched his neck playfully. "Shoot. I'm prepared."

You heard your boyfriend’s delicate laughter. "Baby, I might be crazy in love with you, but I'd never reveal to you something like that."

"Why?" You frowned, starting to get a bit annoyed.

"I don't know, I just..." Lando let out a breath and got up. "I feel like you're too perfect to know that I picture you and me doing such dirty things."

He got comfortable on the bed next to you and then gently grabbed you by the wrist, dragging you to your favorite seat. His lips. You dat on him, as your chest was on his eye level. You could already feel something sharp and hrad poking your thigh.

"Lando, I..." You tried to find the right words to persuade him. Sometimes, he made you think that he'd never been in a relationship ever before. Or maybe that he was too perfect for you. "We are a couple, aren't we, baby?"

"Yes, love." His response was instant, and his hands found your waist, grabbing it as if he were the owner of it.

He indeed was.

"Okay, then tell me, Lando." You tried to change his mind by fake-puppy eyeing. It always worked, to be honest.

Lando proceeded in a long exhale. "Fine." You noticed him bit his lip. "But don't you dare asking me to actually do it in real life."

You chuckled. "Why?"

"You'll see why once I say it."

You moved yourself on top of him to get more cozy, and his eyes were very beautiful. It's too beautiful, in fact.

You couldn't resist that. No straight, non-blind woman could, you were sure about that.

You'd like to take control and ride him once he was done telling you what he had to say. But you couldn't way for much longer. You could already feel yourself soaking wet down there, and he hadn't even touched you wet.

"Okay." You tried to make this as brief as possible. "Tell me."

"Well..." he started. "You know how much I love your ass." Lando blurted out.

Of course, you knew how much he adored your curves. He didn't miss a single chance to smack or squeeze your ass whenever the opportunity occurred.

You smiled. "Go on."

"Well, I--" You could tell he was a bit embarrassed, and that kind of frightened you.

You and him had been together for almost a year, and he seemed to struggle revealing things ti you as if you two had hust starting seeing each other.

"I think I know where this is going." You said, caressing his soft cheeks and hair. His face was kind of red, making his innocent eyes pop up more. "I can already tell it's something really, really dirty." You teased him, and he blushed even more. "And hot."

Gosh, you were so freaking wet.

Lando's eyes filled with pure curiosity. "How'd you know?" He wondered with his beautiful, british accent.

"You're so hard beneath me that it actually hurts my thigh."

Surprised by your statement, Lando looked around and exhaled as if this was too much to handle. He grabbed you by the waist hard and pulled you closer to him.

He didn't proceed to kissing you, though. He just rested his forehead against your, closing his eyes and placing his hands on your cheeks.

You heard him shallow. "You know, you're making it more difficult if you say things like that, angel."

"Thanks for telling me." You smiled against his smile, feeling his warm breath tickle your sensitive skin. "I'm writing it down so I can do it more often." You teased again.

His pretty eyes were still closed as if opening them would mean losing control.

"Fuck, (y/n)," Lando growled. "Don't do this to me, please." He begged, his eyes remaining stubbornly shut.

Please.

"Okay, if you want me to stop, you'll have to tell me." You smiled. "I promise, I'm not going to suggest doing it unless you say so."

Your gaze finally met his.

He applied a small peck on your nose, then on the area of your lips, then lowering his head to reach the skin of your neck.

Your flesh was warm under his touch.

"Ride my face, baby." His accent pronounced.

Your eyes widened, and you were so glad he didn't witness that. His head was buried on your neck and hair.

"Do you want me to?" You asked, just to be completely sure. "Do you think you're going to handle it?"

"Yes, just do it?" He started kissing you.

"Really? What about breathing?" You pulled just a few inches away in order to be able to talk. "Are you sure you'll be able to breathe?"

Lando filled the gap between the two of you once again, not letting you exclaim a word. "Just shut up and ride it, baby." He pulled your shorts and panties away with our swift move. "From now on, you're not opening that beautiful, little mouth of yours again. Only to beg for more or scream my name. Got it?"

You tossed his shirt on the floor, and then your own shirt followed as well.

He laid down, and before you even got the chance to understand what was going on, he pulled you to him. Without talking, he placed you on top of his head, and he twisted his tongue to make your stomach swirl into a million circles. "God, I knew you were soaking wet." He said.

He did that a few more times and a few moans escaped from your lips.

"Move your hips for me, love." Lando said, encouraging you.

You did as he said and the feeling on your stomach only got more intense.

Too much.

Too hot.

Too perfect too handle.

Just like Lando.

He geabbed your thighs with possessiveness, swnding another wave of pleasure through your entire system.

"Fuck, Lando..."

At first, he just utilized his tongue.

He wouldn't let you come until three of his fingers were into you.

You screamed in pleasure and the orgasm arrived only when he said it.

This is heaven, you thought. And it also goes by the name Lando Norris.

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daisybianca · 8 months

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pairing: charles leclerc x femalereader

summary: you and charles are childhood friends since like... forever?! one day, you're reading one of those books you very much like to read and he gets curious, wondering what it is about. little does he know that you're actually reading literal porn.

warnings: mentions of sexual activities, cursing words

(a/n): i got the main idea from character.ai and @ blairetaylorsversion ! Go check her work out. She's got fluffy, spicy, and also angsty stuff to read about <3

YOU SAT ON the warm beach sand, reading a book, while your friends swam and played in the water. You were so focused on the spicy scene you were reading that you didn't notice Charles leaning over your shoulder, trying to also get a glimpse of the action. When you finally did, you jumped slightly, caught off guard by his presence. A smirk formed on his lips as he saw your face turn slightly red from embarrassment.

"Shit, you scared me, you creep!"

Charles laughed slightly, before saying, "Oops, sorry!"

He looked back down at the book in your hands and raised his eyebrows, looking pretty intrigued.

"What are you reading there?" he asked playfully.

"None of your business." Your tone was sharp.

"Well aren't you a bit sassy today, huh?" he said with a smile.

He leaned back in the beach chair next to yours, keeping his arms crossed and looking back at the book. You could tell by his facial expression that he felt stubborn and was determined to see what you were reading.

"I'm not telling you what I'm reading about."

"Aww really? Why not? You can't make me super interested in something and then deny giving me the details..." he said with a pout.

With that, he tried to reach out and take the book from your hands. When he grabbed it, his hand brushed against yours, causing him to look up at you instantly.

"Hey, quit it, Charles!"

Charles looked up at you with a small smirk. He wasn't giving in that easily.

"I'm not gonna stop until you tell me," he said, trying to look innocent.

He refused to let go of the book and was pulling it back towards his side.

"Oh, come on. Why do you even care?!"

You started to feel a slight flutter in your stomach when he wouldn't let go of the book. He was so close to you and he was being playful, which made you feel weird.

"Well now I care even more because you're not telling me. You're making me more curious," he said, moving his body closer to yours and trying to look over your shoulder to see the book.

"It's a romance book."

Charles's eyes widened instantly. He looked intrigued and excited to find out more.

"So it's about love? Is it a romance? Is it about someone falling in love with someone else? Is it juicy?" he asked quickly, his words blending together.

"Too many questions."

"Oh, please, tell me..." Charles whined playfully.

He pulled the book back towards his side, then leaned his head closer against your shoulder, resting his head on you.

"It's um... very spicy."

Charles's eyes widened again.

"Ooh, spicy, huh? Is it about two characters being in love and doing it?" he asked excitedly, his eyebrows raised.

He pulled the book back towards his side again, putting pressure on it so it wouldn't slide away easily.

"Stop acting so childish. You know my taste in books."

A wide smirk appeared on Charles' lips. "Yes. And i daresay that they are particularly mild compared to what you can do in private."

"Shhhh!" Your eyes widened as you scanned the crowd around you. "Stop it! There are lots of people here."

"What are you scared of?" Charles asked. "The news of you and me having the most perfect sex while we're supposed to be childhood friends isn't really going to make me stop flirting with you in public."

You couldn't help but rolled your eyes. "Oh, come on, Charles! Stop talking that loud! You make me wanna hate you so bad sometimes."

"Apparently, last night wasn't one of those times, right, love?"

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daisybianca · 8 months

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pairing: lewis hamilton x femalereader

summary: lewis gives you secretly his number. you're hesitant to call him at first, but when you do, things get a little much more interesting.

warnings: sexual activities, cursing words

(a/n): this is the last part! here's part one and part two.

YOU CHUCKLED AS Lewis excused himself to bring some more wine for the two of you.

You got more comfortable on the couch and fixed the silk material of your clothing.

When he came back, he filled your glass and then his.

"What do you do for a living?" He asked before taking his seat next to you once again.

"I'm a journalist." You answered, taking a small sip from the delicious liquid. "A sports journalist."

Lewis' eyes narrowed. "Formula one?"

"Nope," you said. "Basketball."

You noticed that he rolled his eyes. "Pity."

"What? You wanted me interviewing you, sir Lewis Hamilton?"

You caught a glimpse of something in his eyes as he smiled, bitting his lips before talking. "Maybe," he said, drinking from his wine and looking vacantly somewhere behind you. "That'd be very... very torturing." He said, his voice almost barely above a whisper.

"What was that?!" You laughed, your hands flying in the air. "What was that?!" You repeated again.

"Nothing." He said, smiling widely.

You studied his look. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Trying to." He answered, and you noticed that his hands were rested on the couch, just behind the area of your neck and head. "Does it work?" He looked up at you as he took another sip.

You bit your lips and felt that you were inevitably blushing. Looking at your nervous hands, circling the glass, you noticed his lap and the tattoos on the flesh of it.

It was very... very rideable.

"Maybe," you said, then a thought kicked in. "You promised you'd tell me why I was the chosen one at the race. I'm all ears."

Lewis cleared his throat. "You really want me to tell you?"

"If it doesn't involve some kind of a bet, yes, please,"

"A bet?" His nose wrinkled in something that looked like disguist. "Fuck, I'm not that kind of man."

"Tell me, Lewis." Your mind was in a haze, your thoughts blurred by his pretty eyes, so your hand found the soft flesh of his upper arm.

His eyes detected your hand for a brief moment and then smiled.

Lewis discreetly moved his white shirt lower on his body. Maybe to fix it in order not to look wrinkled or... to hide something, maybe?

"I just..." he started. "I saw you. You didn't even look at me at first."

"Yeah, because I was trying to find my best friend who was hooking up with a McLaren mechanic." You explained, and Lewis expression changed into pure curiosity.

"Okay, I presume I don't need to know more about that," he chuckled. "I just--I just genuinely thought to myself for a brief moment that you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

Your knees weakened, and thank God, you were seated.

"I love it when you're blushing." He grinned and wouldn't take his eyes off your hot face. "It just makes the color of your eyes stand out more."

Silence.

You tried to change the topic. "You never signed my hat, by the way." You said.

"Do you want me to bring a pen? I can sign your hand if you want."

You smiled. "Yeah, whatever."

Lewis left and came back with a pen and a white shirt in his hands. He passed the shirt to you, but you didn't take it at first.

"What's that?" You wondered.

"A pumpkin." He said sarcastically and looked down at you. "What does it look like, love?"

"Oh, no, no." You shook your head negatively. "You're not gifting me one of your shirts."

He laughed and tossed the white material to you. "Why not? It's officially been worn by me."

"And?"

Lewis thought for a brief moment. "You can wear it at home and think about me." His eyes lit up.

"I--I can't accept it, I'm sorry." You tried to give it back to him but he grabbed your wrist.

"Put it on."

"What?" Your eyes narrowed.

He looked you with that intense, dark gaze. "Put it on." He repeated, comanding.

"Why?"

He smiled. "So I can sign it."

You knew where this was going, but you wanted to tease him a little.

"You can sign it unworn as well, you know."

"Yeah, but the shiet wouldn't be stretched enough, and the signature would come out bad-looking." Lewis insisted and passed the shirt to you.

You finally grabbed it. "Fine."

Shoving your hair to one side, you carefully pushed the material around your head and then let it wrap around your curves, covering the pink dress underneath.

You immediately got knocked out by a faniliar cologne. Gosh, this aroma would hunt you forever.

"Looks perfect on you." Lewis said and opened a black marker.

You noticed him biting his lip.

He.

Bit.

His.

Fucking.

Lip.

"Where do you want me to sign it exactly?" He asked, looking at you.

"I don't know." You replied, scanning the shirt for any empty space. "Maybe somewhere free of stamps and letters."

"Hmm..." He looked at your shirt, leaning forward. His eyes were practically on your tits.

"Here," you suggested, signaling to a spot on your chest, near your heart.

Lewis shallowed and looked up to face you. "Are you sure?"

"About what?"

His voice was soft. "Having my hands on you."

You smiled.

That man was literally perfection itself. "No problem. Go on."

He breathed in and then out. Then, his left hand found the area of your shoulder and grabbed it gently for resistance.

You stopped looking at him and knew he had started making the signature when a sharp thing touched your covered flesh.

"Is this okay?" Lewis' voice sounded a few seconds later. "Does it hurt?"

"Jesus, Lewis, it's just a damn marker!" You laughed, but he didn't seem to enjoy your comment.

He was done with the signature, you could tell. He was now writing something on your shirt. Even if you did want to read it, you couldn't. It was upsides down, and Lewis was also covering it up with his free hand as if it were a test and you were about to cheat.

His expressionless beautiful features didn't betray much of his thoughts.

You breathed and hoped that the brave side in you would kick in soon.

"What are you thinking of?" You blurted out before even fully considering what you were about to mouth.

Lewis clicked the marker shut and looked at you. "Nothing."

"Something must have been in your mind whole you were signing the shirt." You explained. "Tell me." You insisted with puppy eyes. "Please?"

He shallowed. Hard. "You want me to tell you the naked truth?"

"What are you scared of?" You eyes narrowed, and you grabbed your phone, opening the camera and reading what was now written on your freshly owned shirt.

His signature.

A heart and...

"With much love, Lewis."

Lewis' lips formed a thin line, and he scratched his almost nonexistent beard. "I'm scared of what might happen after this."

You chuckled, pushing the white clothing off you with a slow movement. "Just tell me, Lewis."

A fee moment of silence passed with Lewis studying you and you fixing your messy hair and dress.

"Honestly, I--" he started.

"Just tell me already!"

"You want me to tell you?" His voice rised dangerously.

"Yes!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you fucking don't, love." He insisted.

"I'm telling you I d--"

Your words were interrupted by his lips crushing hard with yours. Your tongues fought in a messy but also loud battle, and before you knew it, you were on top of him on the couch, your hands around his neck. His his left one was rested on your back, caressing the flesh there before cupping your eyes and giving it a squeeze, while the other was bringing you closer by touching your cheek.

"Lewis, I--" You breathed, trying to create some space between your bodies and faces.

He wouldn't let you go.

"I was thinking about how much I'd like to fuck you in that shirt."

His kiss had left you breathless, but his statement had left you something that wasn't currently in an official dictionary. Something that had just been added to your own vocabulary.

Wetful.

Gosh, is that even a word?

His lap was a great seat, you thought.

Lewis must have sensed your nervousness. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said th--"

"Lewis, grab me the shirt." You commanded, and his dark brown eyes found yours.

He did as he was told.

"Put it on me."

He smirked and did as he was told once again.

You were soaked underneath your underwear, you could tell. He could probably feel it on his lap too.

"Wanna know what I am thinking now?" You asked, breathless as his lips touched your neck and kept teasing and teasing.

He knew when to kiss you, where to kiss you, when to touch you, where to touch you...

This man could make any woman happy.

"Tell me."

"Fuck me in this shirt." You fixed the clothing to cover the area of your thighs. It was large enough to become a dress.

His big hands found your waist and rested there. Then his one hand found your ass and he squeezed it as if he was the owner of it.

"Done." Lewis said.

"Okay, but it won't be pretty." You stopped him just when he started kissing you again. "It might end up having white spots on it after you're done with me."

His fingers touched your lips, and you took the chance to playfully dig your teeth gently on one of them.

"Oh, love... I can give you a hundred of those, and they'd still wouldn't be enough with all those things I'm thinking about doing with you." Lewis smirked, and you took his two fingers in your mouth, savoring the taste of it as if it were a colorful lollipop. "Besides, I assure you that I don't want it to be pretty. I want it to be rough."

His lips collapsed with yours, and you teased, leaning away one last time. "Okay, but do me a favor."

"Anything for you, baby."

You smiled softly. "Keep calling me your love."

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daisybianca · 8 months

Note

“please leave a comment if you want a second part!”

AS IF WE’D EVER SAY NO. PLS BLESS W A PART TWO🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

pairing: lewis hamilton x femalereader

summary: lewis gives you secretly his number. you're hesitant to call him at first, but when you do, things get a little much more interesting.

warnings: cursing words, sexual thoughts

(a/n): here's the previous part 1! Here's the next and last one, part 3!

BLINDING FLASHING lights appeared, and glancing out of the window, you very discreet (not at all) black car parking just at the entrance of your apartment. A few moments later, horn sounds reached your ear, making your stomach swirl nervously around.

Were you really doing this?

"Live some adventure," the voice of your best friend mumbled into your mind, reminding you that sometimes you get to have some fun in order to forget work and responsibilities.

You chose to wear a pink, sliky dress that felt perfect on your curves and skin.

You grabbed your white purse and rushed out, locking the door behind you.

You weren't brave enough to look directly at the car once you were out, but when you turned around to walk towards it, a figure had already stepped out of it.

Lewis' dark eyes rised and then he took a double look at you. Then smiled.

"Hey, love," Lewis mumbled as he came in front of you, and you could swear that his lips had landed to your glossy lips for a brief moment, which by the way seemed like an eternity to you.

"Hey," you smiled widely. (Brushing your teeth almost 10 times before the date was surely tiring, so you had to show off your perfectly white smile, right?)

"You look..." Lewis scanned you from head to toes momentarily. "Ravishing."

A small laughter escaped from your lips. "I love your vocabulary."

"Oh, thank you, love," he gently grabbed your hand and helped you down the stairs. He was swearing a total white outfit, complimenting his tanned skin and making his multiple tattoos stand out more.

Your best friend was totally right. You didn't know if Greek Gods were actually real, but if they were, one of them had to had his name.

Lewis Hamilton.

He opened the door for you, and when you entered, murmuring a small 'thank you', he shut it gently and moved around the car to reach the other door.

The car was fabulously luxurious and looked ridiculously like its owner. Pretty, deluxe and fancy, and surely fast as hell.

The other door closed, and Lewis' masculine aroma filled your nostrils brutally. You couldn't exactly place the brand of the perfume, but it was something like a masculine mixture of heaven and perfection.

"Do you like fast cars?" Lewis asked, fastening his belt.

"Um, I own a grumpy Lexus that even my 11-year-old nephew could beat in a race." You joked, and he immediately burst into laughter. It was rather inevitable to smile back. "It's not that I don't like speed... it's just that... I'm kind of scared."

"Scared?" Lewis asked, raising his dark eyebrows in curiosity.

"Not for me, of course." You said. "I'm too young to rot into prison because of driving over a dozen of people."

Lewis smiled. "Well, I think you're just with the right person." He spoke, and the engine growled furiously as it came to life.

"Hey, this car is truly awesome, you know," you scratched the bare skin of your exposed thigh, and oh, holy shit, Lewis peered at it for a moment that stretched for what seemed like, FOREVER.

"Yeah, I know," He caressed the steering wheel. "I should name her. Any good ideas?"

You bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to suggest your name.

"I need something that sounds elegant and pretty." He clarified and turned to face you.

His eyes burned on your skin as you gazed out of the window, hoping that his stare would cease being that intense and fuckable.

"What about Bella or Alice?" You suggested, bringing into mind your sister's twins.

Lewis seemed to think about it for a second. "Nah, too basic." He spoke a few moments later. "I'm sure you'll have a better suggestion until the end of the night."

The car stopped moving, and you got rid of your seat belt.

The ride was full of side intense glances, awfully hot compliments of his that drove you to insanity, and lots, lots of flirting.

"Is this your only car apart from the F1 one?" You asked as he opened the door for you to step out.

A true gentleman.

"No," he said. "Just one of 'em."

You turned around, and a massive building fulled your vision. It was a huge mansion that screamed mafia-boss-on-wattpad, and made your knees feel weak.

You waited for him in order to start strolling towards the house, but when he stepped next to you, his hand gently found yours and wrapped tightly around it.

You looked at your intertwined fingers, and he smiled. "My house has a ridiculously big amount of stairs. I don't want you falling from date one, do I?" He joked. If the tension of the eye contact was palpable, then physical touch was going to be the very end of you.

"So... I suppose you don't like holding my hand, right? It's all about safety." You fake rolled your eyes at the last sentence and hoped he noticed.

"Don't expose me like that, love." Lewis said, his British accent bold and alive.

When you got inside, you almost fainted and permanently lost your vision. Everything was cleaned to perfection. You could practically utilize the floor as a mirror to see if your pink dress was well-ironed.

"Do you like it?" Lewis asked, abandoning his car keys on a counter.

"Nah, too shiny and pretty." You joked.

"Yeah, just like you." He responded from behind, and your cheeks changed a pallette of five different shades of red.

You turned to face him directly. "I love it."

He smiled and walked towards a miny bar next to a massive kitchen. You noticed that his intoxicating cologne had been replaced by the smell of freshly cooked food. Looking a few feet away, mouth-watering food was placed on a dinner table.

He cooked?

"Red or white wine?" Lewis asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"Red." You replied. "But I swear, I'm a Mercedes fan."

He laughed and grabbed a bottle, reading something oj it at first. Then, he opened it and walked towards the dinner table, placing it on it.

He dragged one chair and let you sit.

When he did too, you chose to ask, "Where's Roscoe?"

"To a friend's," he replied. "I left him there because I didn't know if you liked dogs."

"You sent him away because of me?" You laughed. "Everyone loves dogs!"

He let out a breath before stating, "I didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

You shrugged. "It's fine. I just... I wanted to meet him. I think he's cute."

Lewis filled your empty glass with tasteful red liquid. "Good for me. Seems like I'm inviting you to dinner till you meet him." He said, innocently looking away.

Fuck.

This man was going to be the end of you.

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daisybianca · 8 months

Text

(a/n): just my humble opinion! enjoyyy <3

Love

Beautiful

Sweetheart

Amada (darling)

Chiquita (my little one)

Bella (beautiful)

Precious

Mon amour (my love)

Ma chérie (my darling)

Angel

Gorgeous

Babe

Darling

Blossom

Treasure

Dear

Sweetie

Baby

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daisybianca · 8 months

Text

pairing: lewis hamilton x femalereader

summary: lewis gives you secretly his number. you're hesitant to call him at first, but when you do, things get a little much more interesting.

warning: mentions of sexual activities, cursing words

(a/n): this is part one. Here's part two and part three.

YOU WERE STANDING in the loud crowd of people. Each one of them holding out a shirt, a picture, or a shirt to sign, including you.

You held out a white hat with a Mercedes emblem on it, hoping Lewis would notice it.

When he finally reached you, he looked at you for a few seconds and smiled.

What the...?!

He signed the hat and moved into the next person.

And when you turned around ready to leave, you looked down at your hat, seeing a phone number written on it.

Fuck.

"My best friend is a total idiot," your best friend shouted from the balcony of your apartment.

"Stop calling me an idiot!" You climbed out of bed. "Or at least try to be discreet with your very generous opinions about me and get your ass inside! I've got some deliciously hot neighbors who don't particularly need to know everything about me."

"Have you even been listening to me this whole time that I've been lecturing you about matters of life and death?" She sighed dramatically.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "A random guy giving me his number isn't a matter of life a death, if you ask me."

"Did you just call Lewis Hamilton a random guy? My husband of nine years?"

"Oh, stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl," You brought your fingers to your temple and massaged the flesh there as if the movement could erase the brutal headache. "Besides, you dragged me to that race. Maybe it's your chance to hook up with your crush-since-for-ever!"

Your best friend's eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting, filthy woman?"

"You shoukd call him. I'll give you his number right away." You strolled to find your back, but a habd found your wrist, stopping you.

"You're a mad woman. That's a fact."

You fake smiled. "Stop complimenting me that much. I don't think red suits on my cheeks."

"I swear, you're insane. The only reason I'm still by your side is because until 11th grade, you had my back when I sneaked out for parties, hooking up with whoever had a penis and a 6 pack."

You turned to face your best friend, hands in your hips and lips tightly shut together.

"You're seriously going to turn down this offer?" She asked.

"I wouldn't exactly call it an offer."

Your best friend rolled her eyes. "Yes. I'd call it stupidity, actually!" She waved her hands dramatically in the air. "THE Lewis Hamilton flirted with you, and you didn't even notice. Then he gave you secretly his number, and you're freaking going to ignore it?!"

"And what am I supposed to do about it? He's just a normal guy. Don't make him look like he's some God himself."

"First of all, yeah. Lewis is a God himself. He's mouth-watering hot, almost an 8 times champion, has a very cute dog, an 8 pack to stare at all day long, and much, much money," your best friend explained. "You should definitely call him. At least try to figure out why he gave you his number." She added in a calmer tone.

You exhaled and grabbed the white hat curled up under the sheets of your king sized bed. Gazing at the number, you then bit your lips. "Fine," you gave in. "But I'll call him tomorrow so that I don't seem much desperate, okay?"

"He was the one to make a very, very bold first move, and now you're afraid of embarrassment?!" She growled. "Come on! We only live once. Live some adventure, have some great sex, and experience a true love! I haven't seen you going head over heels for someone except that John guy in college."

"It hasn't been a long time since college," you said, contemplating whether you should count the years or not. You choose the second one. "I'll call him tonight. But don't think I'm doing it because I'm actually interested! I'm doing it exclusively for you." You explained, playing with the hem of your summer blue dress. "He probably is an attention freak who only dates supermodels."

"Baby, I assure you," your best friend came and sat next to you, her hand wrapping around you and caressing your cheek. "Supermodels would kill to look like you."

A smile appeared on your lips, and you gazed at your best friend. She always had a special eay about cheering you up and getting you out of your moody and grumpy vibe.

"Tonight." You said.

This has many potential to go wrong, you thought.

You didn't like wrong. You like safe and steady. But what if your best friend was actually right? (For the very first time of your 20 years old friendship.)

"Tonight." She repeated and smirked.

You turned your head and analyzed the hat with the calligraphic black numbers on it.

This couldn't get any more embarrassing.

***

You let out a long, deep, and shaky breath, then dialed the number.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Three beebs later, a male voice answered the call. "Hello?" The tone was familiar and harsh, but you couldn't be entirely sure that it was him.

"Hey," your voice came out steady, much to your surprise.

"Who is it?" The man replied and now you were sure it was him.

The British accent.

"Um, I noticed a number written on my hat that you signed and--"

"You're the girl from the race?" He interrupted you very much, complicated thoughts that would sooner turn into much more complicated words.

"Yes," you replied hesitantly. "Maybe one of them, at least. In case you gave your number to a few more girls for fun."

A laughter sounded. It was bried but somehow contagious. "I assure you, love, I don't usually spread my number across my fans' hats and shirts."

Your senses kicked in, and the temperature rised in your body.

Love.

"So, why was I the chosen one?" You asked.

"Oh," Lewis growled. "Maybe I could answer that question face to face." He said and then added a few moments later, "Join me for dinner tonight, will you, love?"

You laughed. "Isn't it kind of early for us to meet?"

"I'm not going to kidnap you, I promise." You could basixally hear him smile on the other line. "You can bring a friend of your for more safety." He suggested.

"So that it could be two of us to be kidnapped, right?"

There was a moment of silence. "Not sure about that." He spoke a few seconds later. "I only want you to be honest."

You smiled.

Is he flirting with me?

Of course he's flirting with you, you idiot!

"Are you asking me out on a date?" You asked.

"Yes." He replied instantly. "I couldn't wait another torturing hour, anticipating a call or a text from you."

"Okay. I'm in then."

"What about tonight at 9 pm?" He asked.

It was about 7, so you guessed there was plenty of time to get ready.

"Yes, that'd be great." You smiled.

"Perfect. May I pick you up myself at nine?"

"I'm surely capable of driving my own car, don't you think?" You laughed.

"Maybe," he said. "But why actually do it if I can drive for you? I'll come pick you up myself, I promise."

"No cops, no kidnappers?" You joked.

"I promise."

Lewis Hamilton would drive for you...?

"Okay, then." You spoke. "See you tonight, Lewis. I'll text you the address."

You went to end the call, but he stopped you before tapping the red button. "Wait, wait--"

"Hmm?"

"What's your name, love?"

Your heart roared in your chest and your cheeks reddened.

You adored that nickname.

"Actually, this was the first thing that I would mention to a guy, but love sounds much better, don't you think?"

Lewis laughed. "Tell me your name, and I promise I'll use love every single time instead of it."

"Okay," you said. "I'm (y/n)."

A moment of silence occurred again. "Prettier than love, honestly."

"Maybe, but not when you're the one to say it." You smiled. "You know, that British accent can actually kill."

"Hmm," his voice sounded from the other line. "Weird thing. That is exactly what I could tell about your eyes, as well."

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daisybianca · 8 months

Text

pairing: pierre gasly x femalereader

summary: your boyfriend had been away for almost a week, and once he got home, you thought that a little treatment was needed.

warnings: sexual activities, teasing, cursing words

SIX DAYS HAD gone by without you seeing your boyfriend. When he finally got home the day after a good race, you ran towards him and almost immediately crashed your lips to his.

He smiled between the kisses and dropped his back on the floor, somewhere behind you. "God, I missed your taste."

Your tongue found his and playfully teased around it. When he pulled away first, you were a tiny bit upset.

"I missed yours more." You argued.

His eyebrows arched at your desperate thirst response. "You know what else I missed the taste of?"

Pierre's colorful eyes shifted across the couch. His eyes looked in the direction of your legs, more specifically, the space between them. He slowly got up from the carpet and sat on the edge of the couch. He slipped his hand into your plain boybrief pjs, and his finger grazed your cotton underwear.

You already knew you were soaking wet, just an inch lower from where his hand rested.

Keeping his eyes glued on yours, he slowly moved his fingers until hr felt the warmth of his hand through your cotton underwear. You let out a soft moan from your throat that you couldn’t even control.

This wasn’t fair.

You wanted him too much and it had just been six freaking days.

What if he needed to travel for a month or so in the near future? You'd shove yourself in a suitcase with him?

You reached out a hand to grab a hold of his forearm. Underneath your grip, you felt the tensing of his individual muscle fibers against your skin, twitching and fighting the urge to rip off your underwear.

"Hey," he spoke and his velvet voice echoed around the empty walls of your tastefully decorated minimalistic apartment.

"Yeah," you replied as your mind was going crazy about the fact that he was really trying to tease you.

"Can you let me be a teaser for once?"

You got up from the couch and tore his hand away. "Nope. The past few days have already been too rough for me. Don't make it even harder."

He moved his body closer to yours and kissed yours cheek. "Ironic. It was supposed to get me sucking your pussy."

The way he said pussy sent chills down your spine.

You were getting ready to jump on him any moment now. "I mean technically… you can still do that,” you replied nonchalantly.

He smiled and pressed his lips against yours. Your lips went at each other like you were in high school again, trying to show off who was the better kisser.

It was sloppy, wet, messy, and there was also a lot of biting.

It was still perfect.

By the time he pulled away, you were both panting to catch your breaths. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and planted a sweet peck on your neck. You wrapped my arms around his neck, and he already knew the cue. His arms dug underneath your back and knees. He effortlessly got up from the couch, holding you close to his chest.

"I missed you." Pierre stated. "So fucking much."

"Yeah, I said that before."

"But I didn't."

You laughed. "You don't have to say it in particular. You must show it."

A smirk appeared, and you caught a glimpse of desire in his besutiful eyes.

Your heart wouldn't zip it.

You looked up at him speechless as he casually walked you through the hallways and kicked the bedroom door open.

It was dark here, as well, minus the moonlight filtering through your bedroom window placed on either side of the bed. He walked over to our California king bed and gently placed you down.

You bit your lip as he stood by the edge of his bed. In one quick motion, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. His pale skin glowed. The moonlight reflected off his broad shoulders and firm chest.

Your heart wouldn’t shut up once again.

His body snaked over time and pinned you down between his legs. Each hand tightly gripped your wrists.

The heat from his body was pouring down yours. He arched his neck and placed a kiss on your forehead. Gentle and sweet.

Then, he moved over to the tip of your nose, your lips, your chin, and then down on the flesh of your neck.

"You taste like coffee." You observed between a kiss.

He stretched his neck to look at you. "You taste like heaven itself."

A smile made your lips curve, but it was already too late. His lips had found yours passionately, and his warm breath tickled you.

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daisybianca · 8 months

Note

Hi hi!! I love your blog sm!!!! Can you do something for mick?? (He's been looking wayyy too good I NEED SOMETHING) HSJSHJSHS BUT ANYWAYS ILY AND I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING DAY SWEETS🤍

pairing: mick schumacher x femalereader

summary: mick is literally the perfect boyfriend. the guy that is in every rom-com as the good, gorgeous, generous, and polite kind-of-guy. that's the surface, right? that's what people see and think. but what lays beneath the perfection is somehow even better.

warnings: angst, sexual activities

(a/n): Thank you lots once again. I seriously love writing for you guys😭 please feel free to recommend anything you'd like to read!

"BABY, MY TUMMY is purring." You claimed next to Mick when your eyes had finally started to adjust in the morning light that invaded through the curtains of your bedroom. "It hurts."

Your body was utterly exposed beneath the sheets, and you could feel Mick's bare leg caressing your thigh in slow but smart and teasing movements that required your attention.

"Yeah, but I'm the one with a belly being rubbed at at the moment." He laughed and you realized your hand had been rubbing the spot of his stomach the entire time since you exposed your eyes to sunlight.

"C'mon, you know why I do this." You tried to voice, but it came out muffled because of your boyfriend’s strong arms being wrapped around you tight and hard.

"Yeah." He said behind your messy hair. "You do this almost every day we wake up"

"I--"

"You rub my belly every time you want it in the morning." Mick exclaimed. "I'm a very observant bastard when it comes to my girl's tendencies for getting away without saying a word."

His hands were placed on the flesh of your belly and started creating soft circles there.

You knew he was a teaser and didn't know if you liked it or hated it. Maybe both but on different circumstances each.

You grabbed his hand and pulled it away, clearly stating you were mad at him.

Your bodies had been tangled together, and you bet was just like his. Sex hair from the previous night had been a total blast.

He was right. You hadn't noticed, but you indeed caressed his chest and stomach when you were in the mood and had just woken up.

But you weren't going to admit it anyway.

"(y/n)." His finger was brought on your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "Say it, and it's yours, baby." He said, as if his dick was a prize to win.

Which certainly was, but...

You forced a smile. "No, I-I don't--" You stuttered.

"Baby..." Mick started. "I don't want you to be embarrassed or uncomfortable or shy around me." He placed his hand on your cheek and brought you closer to his chest, still captivating your eyes into an intense staring contest.

"Mick, I--"

"I want you to be happy with me and--"

"But I am--"

"I want you to know that I'm always here. And when I say always, I mean it." He stated in a mumble. "I'm here whenever you need a warm hug to feel better, or a strong shoulder to cry on and release the stress..." His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, and all of a sudden, your heart roared in your chest as if you were a schoolgirl. "...or even a good fuck to make you remember what you mean to me and maybe erase the word embarrassment from that beautiful vocabulary of yours."

He stopped the kisses and looked at you.

You thought your heart had ceased beating in your chest for a moment.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly.

Mick's lips were curved slightly, and his blond hair was messy. His gaze was surely intoxicating, his blue eyes so pure. The purest you'd ever find.

Contrary to his intentions...

"You got me?" He asked and you nodded.

His expression changed to fake annoyance once again.

"Words, baby." Mick mumbled. "You're not that quiet when I fuck you every morning."

You couldn't help but let a laugh escape. You got up and on top of him.

First thing to do in the morning: give a lecture to your girlfriend about vocabulary matters and let her ride the shit out of you till she can't walk for your upcoming race day.

Check.

You started kissing him passionately. Your soul, body, and mind screamed his name. "Yes, sir."

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daisybianca · 9 months

Note

i love ur blog!!! you’re such a great writer and every time i see you’ve posted i’m so happy!! have a wonderful day love🩵

pairing: lance stroll x femalereader

summary: you distract your boyfriend--in a very nice way--because he's getting rid of his sexy beard.

warnings: mostly fluff, sexual actions, slight angst

(a/n): I had just woken up, and this made me smile so wideeee <3 thank y'all. it feels like I've found a second family here. love you lots, guys 💗

"COME ON, angel, you know I have to." Lance teased, his voice muffled from the bathroom door.

But sadly, it was true.

Lance had a race day coming up, and he needed a clean face, which unfortunately meant that he had to shave off his beard.

Walking into the bathroom, you looked at your very shirtless boyfriend and jumped onto the sink counter. Your legs hand off the counter, swinging, playfully kicking your boyfriend’s butt when he would turn around.

"One more day?" You bargained, wiggling on top of the sink counter.

"You said that last time."

“I know,” you said simply before continuing. “But didn’t you have so much fun last time.” you sang while opening your legs so Lance could step between them.

“You know what?”

“What?” You breathed out, the desire for the man in front of you was increasing rapidly.

“I think you need to refresh my memory.” Large hands slid up and down your bare thighs, slipping underneath your sleeping shorts. He trailed soft kisses down your neck, his beard tickling the spot there.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I think you do.” His fingertips gripped your thighs, raising them to wrap around his waist. Once your legs were secure, his incredibly big hands cupped your ass and carried you to your shared bedroom.

“But only to refresh my memory, right?” He asked before connecting his lips with yours.

“Of course, baby. Why else would I want to do this?” You teased with a giggle.

“Hmm,” His head nodded as his lips kissed all over your exposed neck.

He tugged on his shirt you were wearing, signaling for you to take it off so you do. You breathed out moans when wet kisses were placed all over your breasts and you whined when suddenly it all stopped.

“Wait, What? Did you seriously just ask that?”

You burst out laughing, your head thrown back, your smile was wide while Lance's lips were shaped in a playful frown. He carried you to the bedroom while you were still laughing. Dropping you on top of the mattress, your laugh was loud and real.

“I thought you loved me?” He asked with a fake pout.

“No, wait! I do!”

“But, that’s not what you said!” Your boyfriend said stubbornly as he got off the bed and headed to the bathroom.

“Babe!” You whined as you let out a long sigh. Sexually frustrated, you laid on the undone bed and abandoned your shirt on the floor.

“Nah,” he said from the bathroom.

“Lance,” you whined rolling over, so you were on your tummy, and you had a clear view of him in the bathroom. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, the deep dip in his lower back made his bubble butt look huge.

You waited for his response but only heard the sink running and his movements around the bathroom in return. The automatic razor was turned on and you knew there’s no going back.

You had postponed this long enough.

You pushed yourself up off the bed and walked to look at your boyfiend with a playful pout. You huffed loudly when he paid no mind to you.

The huff made his lips curl into a very small smile until it was masked with no emotion, and his full attention was turned on shaving.

He trimmed his beard so the straight razor could get the short hairs left over. The smell of his shaving cream flooded your nose.

You were going to miss his beard, but you had to look at the bright side. Lance looked good both ways. Standing up on your feet and walking to the bathroom, his eyes followed you until you were standing it front of him. His beard was trimmed now, a lot shorter than before, like a stubble.

“Can I help?” You asked, leaning against the bathroom wall.

A small pout was placed on your lips, and your innocent eyes made it hard for Lance to even consider saying no.

“Sure, angel.” He nodded as his tried to pass you the straight blade, but you dodged his offer.

You strolled toward him til your chests almost touched. Your hands pushed his chest back, forcing him to take a couple of steps back. “Baby, what are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

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daisybianca · 9 months

Text

pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader

summary: it's totally forbidden. he's older and your childhood and eternal crush, but there's more to that. his best friend--and your dad--is Michael Schumacher. one day, you're sick and stuck in your bed with a fever. he pays you a visit, and then the fever becomes even more brutal. PART TWO. Here's part 1.

warnings: smut, female pleasuring, cursing words

(a/n): here's part 2 because you seemed to love the first one! <333

"I SUPPOSE YOU'LL HAVE TO BEG FOR IT."

Seb's face morphed into a full grin as he exclaimed the words.

Beg for it.

You felt your cheeks growing even hotter--if that was even possible with a fever and him in a room with you. Completely alone.

You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes at him. His hands were still on your thighs, and you did everything you could to ignore them.

"So, you don't want to kiss me." You said, more like announcing it yourself.

You knew he probably wanted to kiss you, but you teased him anyway, just like he teased you all those years.

You turned your head to face the wall next to you, not looking at the German man in front of you because you'd be willing to participate in every activity he would suggest, including begging for it.

"I want to kiss you, babe." He whispered, and you soon felt his hot breath brush against the flesh of your thigh. "But I don't intend to make it that easy, as I said before. I am a man of my word."

Damn him and his beautiful eyes.

You couldn’t resist that.

His hand found your back, and he started removing your shorts. "Is that okay?"

Those puppy eyes...

"Yes." You replied and fully removed your shorts. "But if you think I'm actually going to beg for your dick, you will be very disappointed."

His lips twitched as he brought his palms up to your thighs. They trembled under his touch, and you clenched them to hide the shiver.

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Who said anything about my dick?"

"Then what exactly do you expect me to beg you for--"

His fingers gripped the edges of her underwear and pulled it down at once.

Seb took his time, turning the removal of your clothes into a long and drawn-out event.

You could barely stand his soft touches and his sly glances.

"I don't like this game." You stated, sighing. You were getting more and more impatient with each passing second, and you were just getting started.

He removed your shirt and spread your thighs even more. "I'm sure I can change your mind soon enough."

You froze as he pressed his palm to your breast and pushed back, pulling you to his face.

Oh, my God.

A scene like that could bring any woman to orgasm all by itself, you thought to yourself.

With the way your lower body was throbbing, it wouldn't take much to make you come. Especially with the way those gorgeous, blue eyes were looking at you and the way his hair unwittingly caressed you body.

Your whole body was buzzing as his tongue touched your soft spot, teasing you shameless. You arched your back in response, and your thighs almost mechanically squeezed his head between them.

Seb's laughter made your clit vibrate. His fingers tightened the quilt as he destroyed your ability to think of anything but his tongue diving into you in shameless movements.

Yep, that was the word to describe this very moment.

Shameless.

What whould papa say if he knew his childhood best friend fucked his beloved daughter with his tongue at her apartment, while thinking she was very sick and could barely walk.

I'm sure I will indeed be able to barely walk after this kind of beautiful torture, you thought.

The mere thought of your father finding out made you shiver, but Seb almost immediately sensed the tension and drove his miraculous tongue deeper into you.

You were sure as hell you had never been so turned on in your brief life.

Everything about him was sensual, from the way his nails dug into your thighs as he licked heryou, to the way he looked at you when a moan escaped.

It was all gone when suddenly you felt a finger sink into you."Oh, fuck!"

"Language, babe." He said, leaving your spot for a few moments.

His lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking the spot there.

He deliberately stopped every time you neared climax.

You cursed him in the same sentence that you praised him.

You almost broke down and begged him to let you finish what he had started, but you managed not to.

If he expected you to break, he would be very surprised.

As if he didn't know how stubborn you were.

"It's a simple word." He chuckled and stepped away from Seb for a few moments. "Say it."

Your clit ached, begging for the mercy that he would not give you.

You grabbed the sheets tight. "No."

With a word from you, you could win the keys to heaven itself.

"Why are you so stubborn?" Again, you heard Seb's voice.

"Because I'm my father's daughter." You barely managed to blur out.

You couldn't stand it any longer. Your hair was a torrent of messy curls and it was flowing haphazardly around you.

It was just a word.

An innocent, little word.

"Please." Your cheeks were wet with the tears you didn't know had fallen.

His laughter sent another wave of arousal through you.

Fuck.

You groaned as he inserted a second finger inside you, twisting both so that they slid over your G-spot.

The way he sucked yout clit combined with the torture of his fingers pushed you to the edge.

Your body shook uncontrollably as he continued to control you with his tongue.

He played with yout body like his favorite toy, pulling your orgasm as far as possible.

Your voice was hoarse as you cried out his name, and he not only liked that.

It drove him crazy.

He would hear that dreamy, soft little voice pronounce his name even in his sleep and dreams and nightmares.

"Seb..." You moaned.

His fingers gripped you as he pulled you forward, pushing his tongue deeper into you. You caressed his hair as he made you chase your second orgasm. "Fuck..."

He abandoned your clit and pulled you into his arms.

You muffled your cries as his mouth clamped over your, drawing another shuddering breath from you.

He was kissing you.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head forward, and felt his soft lips against yours.

You stopped to face him for a while, immediately missing his lips on yours. "Seb?"

"Yes, love?"

"How do I taste like?"

A laughter escaped, and you couldn't help but smile as well. "You taste like mine."

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daisybianca · 9 months

Text

pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader

warnings: sexual activities, jealousy, cursing words

(a/n): it's late at night, and I just wrote this, and I'm really, really sleepy. there might be multiple mistakes, grammar, and spelling, but HEY. the tension is still there! <3

IT HAD BEEN almost five days since everyone got informed that you were down with the flu. Michael Schumacher's beloved daughter was a concern about pretty much everyone in the paddock. Every single person cared deeply about you and Mick. Everybody knew that.

You got quite a few messages and texts from the drivers and team members in the past few days. You answered with polite, brief responses and made sure everyone knew you were just fine with the necessary drugs and medicine prescriptions.

The truth was that you had been feeling okay since a couple of days ago, but chose not to tell anyone. Rest on a bed all day was cool.

Opening your phone, you entered Instagram and wrote a brief thank you text to Daniel Ricciardo, who wished you a fast recovery. Scrolling through the app, you detected a post on your insta feed that was referring to Sebastian Vettell.

Oh, he was tour childhood crush.

Everybody freaking knew that.

You remembered that in an interview a few years ago with your father, a reporter had asked you whether or not you'd like to race for a F1 team and become a driver in the future. You response was fast and was definitely written in history. It almost immediately went viral, and people still talked about it on social media, leading to multiple fans shipping you and the famous world champion.

"No, I don't think I'm going to be a racing driver. But I'll marry one anyway, so it doesn't really matter." The spot played like a old cassette in your mind. A wide grin formed on your father's face and the reporter returned to you and lowered the microphone to reach your tiny height. You were barely 12 years old at that time.

"Who are you referring to? Lewis Hamilton? Do you like him, huh? British, humorous, handsome! He's totally so charming!"

"No, no, no, no!" Your father, Michael, bent over and picked you up in his strong arms. "I'm pretty sure the husband she's talking about is Vettell." He laughed again and you were so confused at the cameras and microphones and tons of people around you.

You were absolutely serious about craving to marry that man. He was something truly angelic to you, even though your innocent 12-year-old mind couldn't fathom how a real marriage worked.

"Oh, I get it! Blondes are better anyway!" The red-head reporter yelled and thanked you for the interview, before moving to the next driver.

You also remembered clearly the very first time you learned about Sebastian dating some girl.

A few of your dad's friends were gathered at your house, along with Sebastian. They talked about some weird strategies you couldn't analyze and had a great time together, but suddenly a question was fired at Sebastian, gaining your full attention.

"Seb, what's up with that blonde you've been going out with since last month?" A guy asked, and your gaze darkened. No one really noticed you eyeing the men behind the kitchen table. But that's what you wanted anyway.

"Who? Hannah? Oh, she seems okay, I guess." He took a sip from his bottle of beer and went on, his eyes lingering around the room. "She's hot, supportive and... not really smart but I don't mind, it's not like I'm going to marry her anyway."

They all laughed at Sebastian's words and you waited until most of the guys moved outside, near the pool in order to prepare the barbecue.

Approaching Sebastian, his eyes automatically landed up on you as he smiled.

"Hey, there, little one!" Sebastian greeted. You hated it when he called you little one. You were 17 at that time. In puberty and almost in adulthood.

"Don't call me that, Seb! I'm not 10 anymore!" You laughed and you got on your knees in front him, next to the couch.

He bent over and applied a peck on your forehead, just like he always adored to do. It was one of his special ways to show his platonic affection to you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He smiled and got up, walking to the kitchen. He came back a few moments later and handed you an orange juice.

"I'd prefer the beer you're holding, thank you very much." You pushed the plastic carton of juice away and got up to grab the beer from Seb's hands. He tossed it away immediately.

"Your father would kill me, love."

Oh, love.

What a word to hear from his beautiful, full lips.

You bite your lips. Hard.

Your female hormones had been raging since a couple of years ago due to puberty. And Sebastian Vettel was so not helping with that.

You formed a fake sad face, and he sat to the couch again.

You'd love to sit in his lap right now. You used to do that when you were a little. You would wrap your hands around his neck... and stare at his baby blue eyes forever.

If the desire to sit in Seb's lap was a drug, you were totally and undoubtedly a drug addict.

But you couldn't do it now. Sebastian wouldn't let something like that happen.

A few moments later, you were sat beside him on the couch, drinking enormous sips from the juice Seb had offered you.

"It's tasty." You told him after you caught his gaze upon you.

"Um... I guess so."

You blinked a couple of times.

"Soooo... you have a girlfriend?" Your voice was steadier than you thought it'd come out.

"I don't know." He thought for a second. "It's complicated."

You automatically dragged the thin material of your cozy dress lower on your thighs when you caught his eyes traveling their for a tiny, brief moment.

"Are you in love with her?" You asked without hesitating and ignoring the previous incident.

"In love?" He repeated. "Jesus, no. I don’t think I've ever been in love before."

You didn't know if the scorching burning in your chest was a good thing. You were glad he hadn't been in love with anyone before, but simultaneously you weren't.

"Have you?" Sebastian's question caught you off guard.

"Who? Me?" Yes, you wanted to yell at him. But didn't. "No. I'm almost 17 and barely had any experiences in my love life."

"That's not certainly a bad thing." He mumbled, drinking from his beer, his lips almost immediately absorbing the liquid.

Germans loved beers. Sebastian Vettel was no exception to that rule.

"What? Having zero experiences in that area?" You asked.

It wasn't like you hadn't been kissed before. You had. Twice. By two different boys. But nothing compared to the love life other teenagers had the chance of experiencing at your age.

"Yes. It's a good thing, to say at least." His eyes were so threatening. Like there was a hidden meaning behind them.

But maybe it was just something your mind created due to the fact that... this man... oh, Gosh... you had never desired anything or anyone like him.

"Why?" You looked at him and his gaze found yours.

"You should wait for the right one." He smiled simply.

You looked at him and wanted to say that he was all you wanted. But you fucking couldn't. And that was drowning your feelings for him in deep, dark oceans.

"The heart wants what it wants." You pronounced, and Seb didn't quite get your words.

He didn't want to anyway. He knew damn well that your feelings about him were intense since you were a little kid.

The obsessed, recless, lovesick teen. That's what you thought Seb would describe you as. Little did you know he had the exact opposite opinion of you.

Seb was your frustration.

He thought you were like a daughter to him at that time. Little did he know you'd do anything to keep your promise in the future.

Bottled-up feelings. Intense feelings, unexplained issues. He caused that to you. All of it. And he didn't even know.

°•°

You were almost 19 now.

Age was by your side and the age gap between you and Seb wasn't that intense. Only 11 years. You had met multiple couples before with even bigger age difference and they lived with it in happiness and with pride.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled a big breath.

You felt greedy, insatiable.

Seb continued being pretty much the number one reason why you still had a good opinion of the masculine sex but you were careful and avoided showing it to everyone anymore. Paparazzi and the media always tended to make things even bigger.

It was just a few minutes before noon when a knock on the door sounded like a thunderous lightning in your sensitive ears. You hadn't communicated with a singe soul in a couple of days because you wouldn't risk infecting anyone else with the virus, even though you already feeling extremely better.

Beforing bothering to hear you climbing out of the bed, a familiar figure of a male swung the door open and closed it sat afterwards, swaying the keys in his hands.

"Seb?" Your voice was weak as you got out of the coziness of your bed and approached the door. "How the hell do you have my keys?"

The German man turned to you and gestured to be sat on the bed once again, as if you were so fragile and threatened to break just because of a silly virus. Sebastian was so dramatic. But you didn't. complain as you gained your soft spot on the mattress again because his white button-up shirt blurt your thoughts and your vision. He had rolled the light fabric on his wrists, highlighting even more his rough hands.

"I asked Mick to lend them to me so I could pass by here and check up on my favorite girl."

His words buzzed in your ears.

What did he just say?

He used to call you random nicknames, some of them cute and others... kind of silly, but 'my favorite girl'?

That was too much for your complicated mind to analyze.

Sebastian sat down opposite of you.

As he faced you and said absolutely nothings, his state felt scorching. Like a burning flame, attempting to read your thoughts, which were too hard to be hidden between the curtains of your eyelashes.

You had always known he could read you like an open book. And you always hated that exceptional ability of his.

Sometimes, he could unearth thoughts in you that no one else could. Not even your father, nor your brother, and sometimes not even you...

"How are you feeling, (y/n)?" His soft smile faded, blue, intense eyes focused on you, eyeing you from head to toes as if he could detect any physical pain just by observing your body.

"How do I look?" You fired back, without hesitation.

You didn't mean to sound flirtatious at all. But... oh, well, the look on Sebastian's face read something entirely different...

You were kind of mad at him that he chose to pass by your apartment without calling or messaging you first. You tried to make him gather that without saying it, but your tone didn't come out the way that you wanted it to.

"If you ask me, you don't look ill at all." Sebastian crossed his arms, his veins popping out of the white fabric. "You look... I don't know..." He gave in, eyes traveling everywhere in the room but you.

You felt a warm wave of air coming your way from the opened windows, so you chose to unzip your thin cardigan a little bit more. Your grey sweatpants were too hot for you at the moment, but the idea of changing into something more loose didn't occur to you earlier.

"Sebastian, I look like a fucking sloth that's been eating leafy greens, rice and pasta for five days in a row!" You laughed but the blond man didn't seem to be amused by your humorous comment. When you faced his cold state, your expression transformed into something more serious. "Why didn't you call before visiting?"

"The answer is too simple and you're too smart to even ask." He shrugged, annoyed. "Because I know you wouldn't let me come."

You hadn't seen Sebastian like that never before. He seemed... different. He always used to laugh with you, enjoy some movies, play video games or boarding games with you for fun...

But now...

He looked so changed and you can't understand why.

"Why wouldn't I let you come, Seb?"

He took a deep, deep breath before answering. "Because you're just as stubborn as me. I wouldn't let you come and visit me while I'm sick either. Even though you--"

Your phone buzzed with a notification on the nightstand, causing Seb's speech to come to a hault.

Another notification popped up and the screen illuminated once again.

One more and then another one...

You stretched your whole body and grabbed your device. Glancing at the screen, you read five unanswered messages from Lando.

This guy tries to catch up with you always when the time isn't right.

Sebastian got up from the chair near your desk. "Who is it?" He asked, trying to keep the coolness in his tone.

"A friend."

"Is it Norris?" Seb snapped.

You instantly looked up from your screen. "How the hell do you know Norris texts me?"

Sebastian smirked and took a seat close to you on the bed. But he was still too far. You needed him closer to make you forget about your frustration with him.

"A spend three quarters of my day with your brother."

"Oh, Mick, you're such a traitor." You muttered to yourself as you shoved your phone under the sheets.

"He just cares about you. We all do." Seb seemed to hesitated for his upcoming words. "You'll always be our best girl."

Our?

Fuck. It felt like he tried so hard to hide his thoughts.

But they say that the eyes are the window to your soul.

"Seb, are you flirting with me?" You shot, keeping your voice calm and steady.

"You want me to stop?" His answer was instant, causing your entire body and face to redden.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You'd been waiting for this moment almost 20 years and now... that it was finally happening, you didn't know what to do.

"No," you muttered. "But I expected you to do something more than that. You were always the brave one, remember?"

Whatever it took to fulfill your eternal dream.

Seb stood up and did something you never expected him to do. Even though every part of you craved this moment to come in many dreams.

He kneeled in front you.

Fuck.

His blue eyes were the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. "Seb, what are you--"

"Open your legs for me, love." He murmured, looking up at you with his fingers genrly pressing on your bare thigh.

You felt your cheeks redden. Again.

It felt insane how instant your body's reaction was to his words and touch. As if it had a mind of its own.

Seb's voice forced you back to reality when you realized you stared at him speechless. "I won't repeat myself."

You shivered and opened up your legs for him, welcoming his warm and long fingers.

"You won't kiss me?" Your voice was barely audible.

"I'm not going to make it that easy for you, babe."

"W-what do you mean?"

A smirk appeared. "I suppose you'll have to beg for it."

♡♡♡

Part 2.

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daisybianca · 9 months

Text

pairing: max verstappen x femalereader

summary: you're max's rival, and you kind of want to spit into each other's face. one day, one of his confessions makes things a little more complicated and... hot.

warnings: sexual activities, cursing words

THERE WAS NOTHING quite like the thrill of competing in Formula One.

As a driver, it took skill, stamina, and a little bit of luck to come out on top.

Max Verstappen had all of that, and then some. He was ruthless on the track, and people called him "Mad Max" for good reason.

When he got behind the wheel, he seemed unstoppable.

But there was one driver who had the potential to take him down: you.

You were just as skilled as he was, and you bad the same hunger for success.

Every time you stepped on the track, you felt a rush, knowing that you were up against one of the best.

You pushed yourself harder than you ever had before, determined to come out on top.

You had always felt a mix of anger and respect towards him.

Recently, though, you just craved to encircle his neck with your palms and compress the air out of his throat until he is on the floor unconscious.

Mean? You were not.

He may seem kind from the screen, but if other people knew him in person, they would be of the very same belief as you.

It could be they way he ironically talked to you or that sometimes he mispronounced your name in purpose.

His teammates and friends didn't seem to hate him at all, and that was what concerned you.

Are you the only one that gets disgusted just at the presence of him?

One day, as you were scrolling on your phone in the garage, you feel a tall figure approach you.

"You know, you and I, we're not so different." He leaned closer and as soon as you heard his voice you couldn't help but roll you eyes in annoyance. "We both have that hunger, the need to win. I can see it in your eyes. It's what sets us apart from the rest of the grid."

He was good looking, you'd give him that. But every part of his personality stink.

You were not exaggerating.

You looked Max straight in the eye. "You're right, Max. And that's why I'm not going to hold back this time. I'm going to race you like never before." You turned away to leave, but were surely surprised when a hand grabbed your wrist.

Tight and hard.

So hard that when it left your skin, it ached.

"Stop torturing me, (y/n)." Max's eyes were dark blue as if a shadow had taken over now.

He was angry.

You had never seen him like that.

"Torturing you?" You flipped your hair and went to leave, trying to hide the pain on your flesh which was previously caused by his hand. "You're such a drama queen, Max."

"You know, that little, smart mouth of yours has to be kept shut at times." His word made you turn to face him again automatically. You felt your hair stand on your arms.

"Excuse me?"

"I have a few ideas on how to keep it shut, though." He crossed his arms and leaned into the wall behind you. "If only you let me."

You had to breathe. But you couldn't. It was too much and you hated the way he made you feel. Just like how much you hated him.

"Bullshit." You cursed and went to leave again.

A hand grabbed you again. His grip wasn't that tight this time, but you didn't have much time to think about it anyway. Max slammed his lips on yours and all of your thoughts melted away at once.

He was so close and so... fuck.

"I don't want you to be just a rival to me, (y/n)." His words were barely a whisper as he stopped the kiss for a few moments only to look at you. His left hand cupped and caressed your cheek while the other found each way to your back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You had to answer, yet you had no answer. You just wanted him to lean in again and...

"Words, (y/n)."

The way he pronounced your name as if he owned it made you shiver.

"Tell me what you think." He said.

"Max, I..." You tried to detect the right words, but his lips on your sensitive neck made it extremely difficult to concentrate on anything else but him.

"Hmm...?" He buried his face in your neck and hair. "Fuck, you're so warm..."

"You have no idea." Your response was murmured.

"I bet you're more warmer somewhere else..." His lips found your chest, and he started making his way down your belly.

"Max." Your hands and legs were tremulous.

"Yes?" He looked at you.

"Can I ask for something?"

"Anything." He answered. "Except letting you win."

"That happens anyway, dummy." You teased.

His laugh was contagious. "Tell me, (y/n)."

"Please..." You murmured.

"Please, what, love?"

Your response was instant, even though you hated saying it out loud. You hated him. But you hated the way he made you feel more. "Please, fuck me."

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