#drivers x reader
Note
4k celebration
i want to see feral lando. dom lando. choking and degrading and rough lando. maybe a bad race, maybe flirting with another driver. weeknd vibes lando. rough rough rough lando.
heat.
ln x fem!reader - 4k celebration
in which lando fucks you until the sun comes up :)
i am. feral. there are no words to describe how unhinged i am over this, this is super self indulgent and i cannot thank you enough anon hehe - lemme know what y’all think ily! <3
songs to set the mood: earned it by the weeknd, novacane by frank ocean, heaven angel by the driver era
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp with a bit of plot, choking, crying, swearing, overstimulation, neck? riding? (hehe), degradation, a slap or two, soft dom!lando, also not so soft dom!lando (he switches up a bit), just feral unhinged vibes
2k words
foreglow:
the glow of light appearing in the sky preceding sunrise
-
the sunrise casts a tangerine foreglow over your bodies, the bed, everything the light can touch.
lando’s slumped against the headboard and you’re sprawled over his lap, legs hooked over his, with his hand working between your thighs.
it’s been hours. he’s had you spread out for him, countless positions and locations utilised. you were paying for your behaviour over the race weekend, but really, it was all his fault.
he’d been too cocky, looked too good, the australian air getting to his head. you’d been glowering at him since you’d arrived in the land down under, watching in erotically charged horror as he paraded around looking, to put it simply, slutty. tight shorts, arms out, neck on display for all to see. his fucking neck. god, it looked so thick, flexing every time he turned to smirk at you. the heat rendered you delirious, and so did he.
and you couldn’t even think about that fucking daddy bracelet he’d been sporting.
you decided you needed payback, in the form of some carefully constructed, harmless flirting with everyone from the mechanics to the guys on the pit wall old enough to be your father. but lo and behold, it worked, and that’s how you found yourself in this position.
the position in question?
being fucked every which way lando deemed fit until the sun came up.
“you learnt your lesson yet, baby?” lando grunts into your ear, pinching your clit between his fingers.
your thighs are soaked, shaking uncontrollably, and your head has lulled back against his shoulder. you’re breathing heavily, your back flush against his front and he’s restless. you’ve lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve been pushed to.
“lan.” you breathe, eyes fixated on the bracelet adorning his wrist. the kitschy trinket sends liquid fire down your spine and you spasm as he continues to swirl his calloused thumb over your clit.
“that’s not an answer.” he tuts, slipping his fingers through your slit until he’s circling your weeping entrance. you’re coated with slick, some of it his from where he’d fucked you up against the wall a good few hours ago. “have you,” he kisses your shoulder, trailing his fingers that were digging into your hip up your belly. “learnt your lesson?” his teeth sink into your flesh at the same time he pinches your nipple.
you gasp out a cry of his name, slurring incomprehensibly, “yes, yes, ‘m sorry, i’m so sorry.” you sob. his chest rumbles cruelly with laughter and you’re hurtling towards another release, the overstimulation making it easy for him to get you off.
“that’s all you needed to say, honey.” lando coos condescendingly.
as if he’s rewarding you for owning up, two of his fingers sink into your entrance, sliding deep. the sound of your wetness sends your eyes rolling back as he scissors his digits in and out of you, speeding them up into a delicious grind. you’re a mess in seconds, slumped into him as close as can be. kisses over your neck soothe you and you feel the wet rush of your release approaching quicker than you can comprehend it. you gush all over his fingers, dripping down his wrist, coating that annoying fucking bracelet.
“there you go, baby. so good for me.” he whispers, slowing his thrusts. “can you turn over for me? want you to look at me.”
you pant as you wriggle around in his arms until you’re straddling his lap. you can feel yourself dripping on him, his thick length sliding between your folds. the exhaustion renders you languid, ready to let him do just about whatever he wants to you next.
lando cups your breast, stroking gently over your nipple while he runs his tongue all over his long fingers. he loves to make you watch, torturing you until you’re needy for another release.
“you think you can do a few more for me?” lando smirks, bringing the fingers that he’d just licked clean to your other breast, fiddling with your other nipple. he has you rolling your hips against him, inadvertently chasing another high already. he loves it, revels in how he can reduce you to this, so desperate that you’re grinding down on his cock, a wet mess in his lap, all for him.
“yeah, lan.” you nod profusely, your tired eyes locked with his. the early morning sun hits them enticingly, making them sparkle green in the warm light. he looks disgustingly gorgeous like this, soft and yours, resting against the headboard, curls spilling over his forehead and into his eyes. if you didn’t know that he was mulling over a million twisted ideas in his brain that involved resorting you to tears of pleasure, you’d think he looked adorable.
“good.” he grins. “not even nearly done with you.” he looks evil; your thighs clench around his hips.
without moving you off of his lap, he uses his strength to slide down the bed until he lays flat. he beckons you to crawl up his body, and you find the strength to wriggle over him, thighs resting on either side of his neck when he stops you.
“you gonna slide your pretty little cunt over my neck?” lando asks, wrapping his huge hands around your thighs. you gulp, staring down at him dumbfounded. “don’t look at me like i’m crazy, baby. you think i don’t see you staring at it with that special little look in your eyes?” he teases. “get to fucking work, i’m not gonna ask again.”
hesitantly, you lower yourself against his his skin, flaming red with embarrassment and lust. you can’t lie and pretend that you aren’t utterly enticed by this, that you aren’t leaking down your thighs at the prospect of sliding your pussy along his tanned, flexed flesh. the adventurousness of the escapade makes your legs tremble, nerves eating you alive, but it’s all worth it when you feel that first glide.
you curse out, loud and breathy, the new sensation creating lewd sounds between you. he’s obsessed, staring up at you in mischievous awe as you rock your hips backwards and forwards. you tangle one hand in his hair, tugging hard in sheer desperation, while the other hand balances you against the headboard so you don’t crush him. he guides your hips like he wants to die like this, suffocated by you and everything you have to offer him.
“oh my fucking god.” you choke out a moan, jaw hanging agape as you continue to slide against him. every time you move forwards, you feel the delectable prickle of his trimmed facial hair scratching against your inner thighs and your eyes squeeze shut each time, pure pleasure bubbling in the pit of your belly.
“you have no idea how fucking good you look.” lando rasps, digging his fingertips into the meat of your thighs. you’re so tense, teetering on the very edge. the strength he possesses, his composure while you’re sitting on his fucking neck makes you throb.
you gaze down at him, feral, and it does something to him, because he’s yanking you up onto his parted lips, burying his face as far as it will go. you yelp, collapsing into the headboard as he holds you down on his tongue, lapping up your mess.
“can taste us.” he mumbles into the flesh of your cunt, barely audible, but you hear it and it makes you shiver. you black out as your orgasm hits, your ears ringing as bliss courses through your limp body like a delicious electric shock. your nerves are shot when he rolls you onto your back.
“fucking heaven.” lando groans, crawling over you as he licks his lips.
he’s invigorated by the taste of you, how spent you are, and how it’s all his fault. you can’t string a sentence together, but you’re grabbing at his toned body like you’re begging silently for more, anything. he needs to drive into you, fill up up, make you remember that your little games will always lead back to this, the reminder that you’re his.
“you sensitive, honey?” he growls, hand sliding between your legs while his necklace rests in the valley between your breasts. you whimper at the sensation, overloaded, nodding. you both know you need more; he needs more. “tough.”
lando practically folds you in half when he fucks into you, giving you no solace in adjusting to him. he ruts into you hard, fast, unrelenting as he sinks deeper and deeper with every thrust.
“you’re gonna behave from now on. you don’t need to make me jealous for me to fuck you.” he grunts. his slaps your hip, the harsh snap leaving a sting that has you convulsing. “this is what you deserve isn’t it? whoring yourself out because you were a wet mess for me all weekend.”
you whine his name, sobs wracking your body. he feels utterly divine hammering into you like life itself depends on it. you’ve lost track of where he stops and you begin, stars behind your eyes that turn into butterflies festering in your belly. you’re so full, flushed beneath him, gushing every time he opens his dirty fucking mouth.
“crying for me, love?” he mocks, lowering himself to get even closer to you, his tongue finding your tears tracks and licking the salty residue away until you’re shuddering.
“please, lando, please, told you i’m sorry.” you plead, begging for something undisclosed, but it’s okay, because he knows exactly what to do with you.
“be fucking quiet.” lando coos once more, sickeningly unsympathetic.
but you can’t help it, whimpering out his name, begging for some form of relief, or mercy, or for him to just fuck you impossibly harder. how can you be quiet when he’s tearing you so perfectly apart?
lando doesn’t like being disobeyed, so when you continue to sob, loud and lewdly, his hand finds it’s way to the base of your throat. your jaw goes slack, wheezing at the intense rush you get when he squeezes slowly, and you can’t help but let go.
“fucking- lando!” you writhe.
“i know, baby, i know.” he shushes you, hooking your leg even higher so that he can bury himself as deep as possible.
you spasm hard, impossibly tight around him and he stutters, collapsing you both hard into the mattress. you hold him so, so tight as he cums, shooting into you. you can feel him leaking out of you already, white hot, and laying there in a heap of sweat and adoration. he breathes a laugh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“are you okay, honey?” he whispers, kissing your collarbone.
“just peachy. a bit knackered.” you giggle, tangling your fingers into his damp curls.
“so, you liked the bracelet then?” he teases, nose bumping against your cheek as he raises his wrist to your eye line.
“i think it needs a clean.” you wrinkle your nose, thinking about what the beads had been exposed to over the last few hours.
“let’s shower, hm? then we can watch the sunrise.” lando suggests, sitting you up slowly.
“you’re gonna need to carry me.” your legs are still quivering.
“anything for you.” he says, hand over his heart.
-
45 minutes later, the sun is sitting pretty, high in the sky.
7:26am, the clock reads. the melbourne skyline glimmers hot with the rise of a new day.
you’re snuggled into his side, wet hair cooling the heat of damp skin. your eyes flutter, barely fighting the urgent need to sleep.
“you have no idea how much i love you.” lando caresses your stringy locks, pushing the hair from your eyes.
your bare bodies mould together, basking in the orange of the dawn.
“love you.” you mutter, brushing your lips against his chest in an open mouthed kiss. “promise i’ll start behaving.” you snicker.
“but baby, you know i love it when you’re bad.”
“okay, i’ll remember that… daddy.” you retort, a teasing lilt to your tone.
he ignores the way his blood rushes south, too conscious of your exhausted body - and his own - to climb on top of you and fuck you until the sun sets once more.
“get some sleep.” he whispers through gritted teeth.
you sink into sleep while he watches over you. the view from the hotel room is gorgeous, breathtaking, but why would he give it even a millisecond of his attention when he has you?
-
head? empty.
-
taglist
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#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris fics#lando norris fluff#lando norris oneshot#lando norris imagine#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 smut#f1 fluff#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fics#formula 1 smut#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fluff#f1 oneshot#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic
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the orange peel theory * fem!driver
how many men in her life would stop to peel an orange for her if she asks randomly?
pairings: f1 grid x fem!driver
warnings: -
notes: juSt a random idea i got when i dreadfully peeled oranges for myself ugh i hate being single sometimes
guys this is the last vr update today i swear i’ve got too much times on my hands actually
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
-> max verstappen, #1
would be in the middle of an interview after quali when she comes up to him with a mandarin orange in hand
max stops mid sentence to look down at her in confusion but will take the orange into his hands as she asks him to peel it for her politely
he would cover the mic and whisper “can this wait? i’m in the middle of something” and she shows him her hands, perfectly manicured white nails with a frown and says “i’ll stain my nails”
and he just does it, peeling the orange as he carries on with the interview after she walks away without him knowing
when he finishes, he turns to give it to her but she’s no longer there and ends up eating the orange during his interview lol
-> logan sargeant, #2
he’d be sitting in his garage minding his own business when she comes and sits next to him with a bag of mandarin oranges in hand
he doesn’t even need to be told
he immediately reaches out and starts peeling the oranges for her, even tearing away the white strands because he knows she hates those
totally nothing to do with the fact that he’s had a crush on her forever
everything to do with the fact that they grew up together and he’s too lazy to fight
-> daniel ricciardo, #3
he’s literally just walked into the paddocks for race day
he feels all cool with all the cameras
suddenly she runs over to him with an orange in her hands and a hopeful smile
“peel this for me please?”
he does it without question
he walks the paddocks with her while peeling her orange and even sparks up conversation with her
-> lando norris, #4
literally walks away when he sees her approaching him with an orange
she’s been doing it all weekend and he refuses to be a victim
also because he’s not that fond of peeling oranges
or oranges, for that matter
she tries chasing after him but when she finally catches up, he simply ignores the request to peel the orange for her
-> pierre gasly, #10
he’ll be literally walking over to the grid for the driver’s parade
looking pretty cool in his cool fits
an orange is presented to him without question
he grins at her and thanks her for the orange
walks away and eats the orange himself
-> sergio perez, #11
would also be in the middle of an interview when she comes up with an orange
would peel it because he’s a mega dad and he’s really taken a liking to her
excuses himself from the interview to do it for her real quick
would take one piece of the orange for himself
claims it’s the taxes for making him do it instead of doing it herself
-> fernando alonso, #14
takes the orange without her saying anything
he’s always seen with seb on race weekends and is very used to her antics
literally gives her the orange peel and one piece of orange
eats the orange without her saying anything
she’s in damn near tears because she really expected fernando to peel it for her without question
-> charles lerclerc, #16
is sad that she didn’t bring him an orange too
still peels it for her though
even though he was in the middle of some paddock game with carlos
asks for a piece and because she loves him and her crush is still very much present, she simply gives him the whole orange
-> lance stroll, #18
he’d have been coming out of his racing home minding his own business
they don’t interact often because she scares him
is almost scared to say no to the orange peeling and actually says no
mutters “i always knew you hated me” as she walks away
which then makes him chase her to peel the orange for her and apologise profusely
because lance and her literally never talk and it took up all her courage to approach him with this orange, she gives him half of the orange
-> kevin magnussen, #20
asks her if she's got an extra orange for his baby girl
she literally came prepared and gives one to cute baby laura
so now kevin has to peel two oranges for two babies
outrageous, if u ask him
-> nyck de vries, #21
has unfortunately departed by the time she decided to be a menace about the orange peel theory
she thinks about him often though
they're texting buddies actually
-> yuki tsunoda, #22
literally came prepared
he's got a packet of candy he bought when he flew back to japan for a visit
she gives him the whole orange
she literally peels the orange for him in exchange for the candy
-> alex albon, #23
was literally walking to the grid for the opening ceremony of the race weekend
says no immediately
but he does change his mind and asks if he can have half if he peels it for her
peels it and takes more than half of the share
-> zhou guanyu, #24
is delighted to even see her because they don't come across one another often
is kinda touched that she asked him to peel an orange but then is disappointed to find out that he's not the first victim and that this is all a tiktok trend for her
peels it anyway
asks her to bring an extra orange if there's a next time as payment
-> niko hulkenberg, #27
she literally cannot find him
doesn't get to participate in the trend
she only saw him once that weekend and it was at the opening ceremony and she only had 1 orange for alex to peel
and on the grid in his race car
-> esteban ocon, #31
absolutely ADORES her
peels it without question
peeks around her shoulder to ask if she's brought another one for him
she says yes and that he's the only one who gets one for himself because she loves him back
-> lewis hamilton, #44
this psycho literally approaches lewis when he's on an interview panel
but that's because he asked her to do it at that time so he has a excuse to escape the panel
he's just so tired of the panel interviews
giggling with her like demons as he peels the orange
-> carlos sainz, #55
peels it for her without question
the only one to ask her why she's got so many oranges to eat and hand out
also the only one to ask her if oranges have been the only thing she's eaten all weekend
inhumanly impossible to eat this many oranges in one weekend perhaps
-> george russell, #63
is literally tearing up because she came to him to ask to peel the orange
he heard from alex what she's been doing
he's been waiting all weekend for her and was sad that it seemed like she had no intentions on letting him participate in her tiktok
she feels so bad for him that she joins him in peeling an orange as well
-> valtteri bottas, #77
is confused because he's just minding his own business using his phone during the driver's briefing
peels the orange for her anyway
asks if oranges are her favourite fruit
suggests eating something less acidic to avoid a tummyache
-> oscar piastri, #81
if anyone's tired of her being a menace with all these oranges, it's going to be him
but because he knows she'll pick a fight if he says no
he will peel the orange reluctantly
takes a picture with the orange because it's the same shade as the mclaren shirt he is wearing
— bonus
-> liam lawson, #30
asks her to fuck off
only ask him to peel an orange when she's lost all the ability to peel one for herself
asks her if he can have one from her orange stash
she says no in tears because he cussed at her
shrugs and walks away
-> sebastian vettel, #5
this clinically insane woman has got this 4 time world champion peeling oranges on the pit wall during qualifying
has him throw her a peeled orange in between laps during qualifying
eats it in the car for a racing 'buff' before she drives out for a lap
she's got too many oranges so he helps her eat some of them
eating oranges = beating mclaren = beating oscar because they're all the same colour and have a correlation obviously
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @sadg3
#f1 grid x reader#fem!driver#female driver#f1 fem!driver#f1 female driver#vettel reincarnate#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke vr#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#logan sargeant x reader#alex albon x reader#sebastian vettel x reader
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Charles speaking dirty in french🤭🤭🤭🤭
CL16 | Dirty boy ♡
Summary: Y/n keeps bothering her boyfriend until he gives in and shows her how to be a good girl.
Warning: dirty talk, smut, no protect sex, dom!Charles, sub!reader, mean!Charles, handcuffs, a bit of hitting (soft)
A/N: enjoy<3
Translation: mon amour= my love | Chéri.e= darling
MASTERLIST requests are open
She sits on his lap, her hand passing through his brown hair. ''Mon amour, I'm trying to work.'' If there are two things that the young woman loves, it's annoying her boyfriend when he's trying to work and his horribly sexy French accent.
She kisses his cheek, her other hand running over his abs through his t-shirt. He feels a shiver down his spine, but doesn't give in to temptation. ''Chérie, please.''
She doesn't listen to him and kiss the crook of his neck, nibbing it softly. His hand found its way to her waist, rubbing it softly. ''Don't you want to take a break?'' She let her hand go under his t-shirt, using her fingerstip to touch his abs.
He sighs, from pleasure? Annoying? She does not know but she doesn't care. Her hand under his t-shirt keeps going up, her mouth continuing to stimulate his neck by leaving a few red marks and lovebites.
He didn't push her away, trying to focus on the computer screen in front of him. He begins to feel tight in his pants, her ass wiggling against him and her fingertips tracing the vertical line of his abs.
His hand which was on her waist goes down to caress her ass, squeezing it softly. ''T'as envie que je te baise hein?'' you want me to fuck you, huh?
She doesn't understand what he said but can't help and moan softly against his soft skin. He grabs her jaw and forces her head up to kiss her. She moans into the kiss and Charles takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, caressing the inside of her cheeks.
She removes his headphone and places it on the desk, running her hand through his hair. He picks her up and moves her into the bedroom, dropping her on the bed. ''Qu'est ce que je vais faire de toi?'' What am I going to do with you?
She feels the excitement build even more in her body, his accent completely turning her brain. ''Tu es si irrésistible..'' You're so irresistible.
He removes his t-shirt, finally revealing his abs that she loves to caress so much. ''Take off all of your clothes.'' His voice was firm yet sweet. She listens to him and takes off her clothes, revealing her underwear to him. ''I said all of your clothes.'' She can't help but blush, even though Charles has seen her naked so many times.
She takes off her last clothes and watches him rummage through the drawer of his nightstand.
''Is it ok if I tie your wrist to the bed?'' She bit her lower lips. ''Yes. You can do whatever you want with me, my love.''
Charles smirks, taking off two handcuffs from the drawer, deftly tying one end around one of her wrist, securing it to the headboard. He repeated this process with her other wrist, leaving her bound and vulnerable in front of him.
He takes his time to take off his pants and joins her in bed, getting on top of her and one of his hands already trailing between her thighs. ''Je parie que tu es toute mouillée, mh?'' I bet you're soaking, mh?
She whines, wanting him to touch her. ''Please.. Charlie..'' He chuckles, his cold hand touching her inner thighs. She can't help but move her hips to try and show him her impatience. His fingers move up slowly and he slides one finger between her wet folds. ''Toute mouillée et rien que pour moi.'' All wet and only for me.
She closes her eyes, trying to move her hands but can't. Her head fell back against the pillow with a long moan of his name when she felt his lips against her bundle of nerves.
She can't help but squirm with pleasure as he continues to stimulate her with his tongue. And just as she was about to cum, Charles suddenly stopped and moved his kisses back to her stomach.
''What the hell Charles!'' she shouted, frustrated. He laughs, kissing her ribs. His laugh is deep and dark, almost frightening.
He rubs himself against her wet fold, making her moan deeply. He can feel the wet through his boxer and it turns him so much on. ''Putain Y/n tu vas me faire jouir juste parce que t'es autant mouillée.'' Damn Y/n you're gonna make me cum just because of your wetness.
''Charles..I need you!'' She whines, shaking violently under him. He doesn't wait longer and takes off his boxer and thrust roughly into her tight and wet cunt.
''Merde.. t'es si serré..'' shit.. you're so tight..
He doesn't wait any longer to almost pull out and go back in roughly.
''Tu la prends si bien.'' You take it so well.
If he keeps talking like that, she'll probably cum faster than expected.
''Oh oui, t'es si bonne.. ma pute..'' Oh yes, you're so good.. my whore..
''Ch-Charles!'' She moaned loudly before cumming hardly around his cock. Charles takes it upon himself and holds back from cumming as he feels her walls tightening around his cock. He speeds up his movements, his hips hitting hers with a sensual sound of flesh smacking and a wet sound.
His hand hits the side of her thigh. ''Dit moi que tu m'appartient.'' Tell me you're mine.
She doesn't understand what he says and moans loudly, not having time to recover from her orgasm.
Charles hit her thigh a second time, this time leaving a red mark of his hand. ''Dit moi que you're mine!''
Her back arches a second time, her eyes filling with tears. ''I-I'm yours !'' He moaned loudly, but kept holding himself. ''En Français.'' in French.
The feeling is almost unbreathable and she can barely find her breath. ''Je..J-je appartiens.'' She managed to moan, with her sensual English accent.
''Putain oui..Bonne fille.. Mon jouet baisable préféré..'' Fuck yes.. good girl.. my favorite fucktoy..
Charles redoubles his efforts, showing his breathing and dumbbell physique in his thrusts. The room is filled with their moans. One of Charles' hands finds its way between her legs, playing with her clit.
She doesn't wait any longer to come brutally a second time, tears leave her eyes to roll down her cheeks.
''Oh oui.. serre moi fort..'' Oh yes.. tight me hard..
Charles continues to thrust inside her until he reaches his own climax, his hot seed feeling her up perfectly.
''Ah! Putain! Y/n! T'es trop bonne!'' Ah! Fuck! Y/n! You're too good!
He crashes into her, still being careful not to hurt her. After a few minutes of catching their breath, he pulls out of her with a wet noise and one last moan leaves her lips.
He unties her hands, massaging her wrist to relieve it. ''Ça va, mon chat?'' All good, my cat?
She turns around and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her head into his neck. ''That was great. As usual.''
He can't help but smirk, his hands rubbing her back. ''Je sais que t'aime bien quand je suis méchant avec toi..'' I know you like it when I'm mean with you..
One of his hand goes lower and gently strokes her red thigh. She kisses his neck, already nibbing on it again.
''Ready for round two?''
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 drivers#f1 x reader#f1 smut#help he's so hot#smut#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 smut
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Forget the wags, could you write something about all the drivers having massive small crushes on reader and like there’s loads of edits on social media of them looking at her with heart eyes or just general ship edits or I mean ship fan fiction that they have to read in a team challenge or something..👀
LATE NIGHT TALKING
pairings: f1 drivers x driver!reader (indirectly)
warnings: swearing. drunk drivers. lando talking about a woman.
author’s note: I AM BACK FINALLY! also I wrote this in my notes app so pls be patient 😭😭 and this is probs the closest thing I’ll ever write to romance for this series lol
masterlist
“Out of all the drivers, who would you date?” Pierre drunkenly, almost-giggly, asked the question to his fellow colleagues.
Charles, George, Lando, Alex, Carlos and Yuki nervously laughed at the shit-faced Frenchman in front of them.
“Out of the entire grid?” Charles wanted clarification.
Pierre nodded. “Like hypothetical, if none of us had partners.” He quickly added.
A silence followed. The seven men thinking of all the possibilities.
“I mean…” Lando was the first one to speak up, every head in the hotel room shooting up at him,
“and this stays between us, right?” He followed up, needing reassurance from the others, who swiftly nodded their heads.
“If like, I was single, and I could only date one of the drivers… I would date Y/N.” He confessed.
His words were met with choruses of “same” and “me too”. A small, relieved sigh left Lando’s mouth at the others’ agreement.
“Yeah, you guys are cool and all, but Y/N’s the right answer.” George snickered, awkwardly avoiding eye-contact with the group.
Charles hummed. “I’m also choosing her, but you know, cause I’m not, uh…”
“For the other side of the street?” Alex laughed, taking a swig from his drink.
“Yeah.” The Monegasque’s dimples made an appearance, grinning towards the Williams driver.
“I think she would rather die than date one of you guys.” Carlos said, matter-of-fact.
Charles, George and Lando gave him an unimpressed look, despite knowing he was speaking nothing but the truth.
“She would date me!” The McLaren driver tried saving his own ego and pride.
“She would not.” The six others immediately shot him down.
Lando scoffed at that, sitting up more straight on the bed. “Why? It’s like textbook childhood friends to lovers, or whatever Lily said at that party once.”
“You kinda sound like you want to date her.” Pierre made eyes at him, causing the younger man to lightly push him away.
“I don’t! But I’m just a little offended that you guys don’t think I could, like, you know… bag her.”
“Bag her? She’s not a fucking product.” Alex judged his choice of words, a slight disgusted expression on his face.
“You know what I mean, Albon.” Lando brushed it off, not having bad intentions. “I just think she would be a nice girlfriend to have.”
“I think so too,” Charles agreed, “she’s a lot of fun.”
“I mean- you would never get bored with her.” George hesitantly added to the conversation, feeling a little uneasy about imaging himself with his colleague.
“True.” The seven of them chorused.
“Hey, maybe we should change the topic- it’s getting weird…” Carlos suggested. The atmosphere in Charles’ large hotel room having changed drastically ever since the question had been asked.
“Yeah, good idea.” Lando cleared his throat, uncomfortably shifting on the bed.
“I would choose Pierre to date.”
“Yeah, we know, Yuki.”
#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#female f1 driver#f1 x you#f1 x oc#f1 imagines#alex albon x reader#pierre gasly x reader#george russell x reader
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HE’S SO PRETTY WHEN HE GOES DOWN ON ME ( charles leclerc. )
charles leclerc x reader
charles goes down on her and she can't help but admire his pretty eyes staring back at her.
warnings: smut, mostly google translate french (highschool does NOT teach us how to talk dirty okay, bare with me)
author note: as much as I would've wanted to write this for lando, it HAS to be charles, and I feel like this is so different from my usual thought and emotion heavy writing! incoming charles obsession??? like if people requested imagines for him, I'D WRITE IT...
HIS GREEN EYES MIMICKED THE SHIMMER OF PALE EMERALD. sunlight peeked through the curtains, though in a few hours time, it would fall from its peak in the sky and the room would eventually begin to darken.
his biceps filled out the sleeves of his freshly-washed blue shirt, straight from the load of laundry she had done hours ago. veins like lightning under his tanned flesh to suggest his touch was rough, yet his callused hands were so gentle against her skin.
goosebumps crept across her body with every graze of his body on hers, every small breath against her ear as he mumbled something dirty to her in french. though she didn't know exactly what, she could pick up on the cognates between languages.
he tasted faintly of chapstick, her chapstick, that transferred from her lips to his as he couldn't keep off of her. with lips as swollen and pink as hers, he graced nearly every part of her body with his kiss. she was his oxygen and he was deprived.
but it was hard for him to ever be deprived, considering how even when they weren't in such a position, he was glued to her, hands grasping or resting at her sides and his breath down her neck.
when he'd reluctantly part from her sweet-tasting lips, his veined hand would snake down from the long strands of her hair in his palm, coming to rest on her jaw. prominent veins in his arms would indicate force was used to push her head up to expose the smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, yet his touch was tender.
still, he felt her gulp under his palm.
light trails of saliva from his kisses down her jaw to her collarbone and neck, leaving red marks of irritated skin that would later bruise.
he knew she wouldn't be able to cover it up. he nipped at her skin with the purpose of showing it off, and she could get him to stop if she really wanted. but she didn't want that.
the hand on her neck reminding her of the easy power he had over her, and how she loved the gentle dominance he displayed.
because it hadn't taken much convincing earlier to get her into their bedroom. despite it being midday, he wanted to take care of her, in more ways than one.
she didn't object, she wouldn't when he looked at her with those damn eyes. his strength and her weakness.
now laid on her back with his body looming over her, his knee between her legs to put pressure just enough, but still not satisfying the desperate need to have him. and yet they had both managed to stay clothed all up untill this moment.
kissing up the staircase, his hands grasped at her waist, hoisting her into his arms, and gotten them to where they were now.
the tension had been building with every step he took, his pretty eyes watching her squirm, though he was the one to be so eager to please her. he couldn't give a shit about himself.
disheveled hair and tired, green eyes while his greedy hands roamed down her clothes, grasping at the skin of her thighs. still, he took his time as he usually did with his hands over her body, memorizing every dip in her skin.
fingers teasing under the edge of her white laced tank, bumps rising on her stomach as the material rode up her torso. he watched her nipples harden through her top, feeling his sweatpants getting tighter as he watched her subtle reactions. subtle reactions that gave him more than a little confidence in his attempts to please her.
because if he didn't then what was his purpose of living if not to please her?
his eyes remained on her the entire time, even if hers didn't meet his. she felt the burning sensation of his gaze over her heated skin. desperation for him between her thighs became increasingly unbearable, she wanted him. she needed him.
but he always took his time. it was agonizing, but she always came hard because of it.
from teasing her barely exposed skin to massaging into her ribs, he watched her expression every step of the way. it was slow, as per usual, agonizing.
his hands finally found her breasts, gently squeezing the flesh in his palms while he circled her sensitive nipples with his thumbs, exerting small noises from her.
removing one hand momentarily, he pulled down the lace of her tank, leaving messy kisses down from her collarbone to her other breast. but he didn't give her that little satisfaction, not yet.
“shhhh, patience, mon amour,” he spoke with a rasp in his voice, muffled slightly as she felt the vibrations of his voice against the flesh of her breast.
fixing her top with his other hand still teasing her chest, his hand caressed her waist under her small shorts.
trailing down the joint of her hip, his fingers traveled slowly down to and along her inner thigh before dipping under the fabric of her shorts. he played with her panties, pulling the hem away from her slick cunt. she whined at the contact of air to her core.
he bit his lip at the sight of her, fuck she was gorgeous lying before him and so desperate for a simple touch of his hand.
his knuckles brushed over the wet patch - that he caused- on her underwear and she inhaled a sharp gasp. he tsk’d at her reaction, shaking his head with a smirk on his face.
“tu es une petite chose désespérée,” (you are a desperate little thing). he chuckled breathlessly, eyeing her body squirm at such simple actions from him, “très sensible…” (very sensitive).
he teased her with words she could only guess the meaning of, pulling the hem of her panties back only to release it from between his fingers to slap back onto her skin. the sound filled the silence of the room and she flinched slightly at the feeling.
though she didn't have much time to react in any other way when his two fingers ran up her wet cunt, her folds rubbing against the soft cotton of her soaked panties. he teased her clit, rubbing circles with his thumb in an agonizing pace.
biting her lip and grasping at the pillows above her head, she clenched her thighs around his hand, trapping his fingers out of desperacy to feel more.
he only chuckled at her need, her attempt for a sliver of control. because he knew she had none.
he still managed to slip his hands away from her core despite her desperacy to keep him close and use him, which he didn't mind, but he preferred to have control. the warm hand from her chest emerging from the bottom of her lace tank to pry her legs apart, which didn't take much force from him. though she whined at the lack of contact.
hands placed on her knees, sliding his callused hands down the front of her thighs to rest at the point on her waist the top of her shorts rested. firmly grasping handfuls of the flesh of her hips, he tugged her body sharply against his.
unfortunately for her, his hands left her side - which she objected to - for merely five seconds to slip his blue shirt from his torso.
“calme,” (quiet) his tone was firm, yet a smirk etched its way onto his face as he saw the way her face changed as his toned torso was now in full view for her to marble at.
he let her as her fingertips barely reached his skin. she returned the smirk as she saw the rising goosebumps from the sensation of her nails down his abs before reaching where his v-line was interrupted by the tops of his sweatpants.
he shook his head at her actions, catching her wrists with both his hands and pushing them into the pillows above her head. “it's your turn now, belle,” his voice was raspy as he whispered in her ear. fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tank as he waited for her permission.
instead of giving it to him, she’d rather try to turn the teasing back on him, but unlike her, he loved the show she gave as she peeled her top from her body slowly.
on contact with the cold air, her nipples hardened again and charles could swear he salivated at the sight of her bare chest, as if he hadn't seen it plenty of times in the past.
“tu es trop jolie pour moi, ma chérie,” (you are too pretty for me, my dear) he muttered under his breath, hands full of her breasts as he couldn't resist himself.
okay, maybe her slow strip-tease did work on him a little bit. a little too well because now he wanted to see all of her.
shuffling his way till he stood at the foot of the bed, hastily slipping off his sweatpants without breaking his gaze on her body. the rise and fall of her bare chest, her hands returned to their spot on the pillows, her legs now crossed and hips moving to find friction against the cotton of her clothes to give her something to go off of. biting her lip as she tried, all while he watched.
the sound of his sweatpants hitting the floor as he disregarded them across the room, his attention on her never faltering as she watched him crawl across the bed back to her.
his toned shoulders and biceps, veiny forearms and hands, eyes locked on hers, disheveled hair and half-lidded eyes. the heat of his gaze made her squirm as he crawled back up to her, bodies pressed together as his head once again dipped into the crevice of her neck.
kissing down her body, he went further, and further, and further till he stopped at her stomach, hands on her hips to her thighs to unknot them just enough. hands back to her hips to lift her just slightly and with his fingers around the hem of her shorts and panties, slowly slid them down.
he's so pretty when he goes down on her, green eyes watching as he dipped lower, and lower, and lower. gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry now across the room.
his warm breath against her stomach as he watched her carefully, analyzing every little movement and subtle reaction. every brow crease, mouth twitched, nose flare, every swallow and gulp that traveled down her throat, small fly-aways from her hair starting to matte down to her skin.
biting her lip as he lowered down her body, dangerously close to the spot between her thighs. close enough to feel his breath against her thighs, and he could feel the warmth radiating from her.
anticipation building in her stomach, hips rolling to close the gap from his face to her cunt, but his hands holding her down firmly stopped her. a whine in desperation slipping past her lips, pushing her head further back into the pillow in anguish.
“regarde-moi, chérie.” (look at me, darling) he spoke so sweetly, yet so tauntingly, like he'd never give in to what she wanted if she didn't do what he needed her to.
“charles, please…” she begged because she wasn't entirely paying attention to what he was asking of her, especially when he spoke another language. she didn't have time for translation.
he shook his head, pressing his face into her inner thigh as he chuckled at her tone, so needy and only for him.
“look at me, amour,” he repeated in english after kissing her thigh.
now propped up on her forearms, watching her beloved monégasque boyfriend looking back at her with a smug smirk on his face.
she scowled back at his expression, opening to make a snarky comment about it. her jaw hung open after he finally closed the gap after waiting too long, his tongue licking a single stripe up her cunt.
she rolled her eyes in annoyance, falling back down into her pillows as she groaned in annoyance, “fuck you, charles.”
“i’m sure you'd love to, darling,” he teased before tasting her again, humming into her cunt which incited a hand through his hair, pushing him closer and a whine to slip past her lips.
when he'd done enough teasing for his own enjoyment, he indulged further into her core. his hands snaking around to the crevice where her thigh met her hip to pull her further into him.
squeaked moans barely making it out of her mouth as he worked away at her clit, her hand in his dark hair to push him closer in fear he would stop.
nips at her folds and whines whenever he would do so, tugging a little harder on his hair causing groans from him. vibrations of his groans through her clit, stimulating her more and more.
legs trembling as her thighs clamped tightly around him, and he didn't dare stop her. he was in heaven. she was sweet, perfect in contrast to her bitter attitude only seconds ago. he nearly broke eye contact when he was first reminded of how she tasted.
caressing her hips, he refused to part with her cunt, his lips coated with her slick as he heard the pattern of her moans falter.
she was so easy to tie in knots, and so easy to untangle too, shuddering harshly as she barely let out a moan. tugging tighter at his hair, pulling him closer as if he would leave her unsatisfied as she came undone on his tongue.
he didn't stop after the first, or the second. it wasn't until she was close to her third that he even considered a break. after the second, his pace slowed to small movements from his tongue, lightly teasing her now sensitive clit.
soft tears ran down her cheeks at the overstimulation between her legs, but she didn't stop him. it felt too damn good.
the third came the slowest, but hardest as he managed to coax it out of her patiently.
by the time he had pulled away, his hair was even more messy than before, her slick covered his lips and chin, his tongue licking away the remnants of her on his face. his shoulder slightly red at her barely clawing away at his skin.
by the time he had pulled away, tears streamed down her cheeks, hair matted to her forehead, her arched back dropping down the sheets, and her hands that were previously in his hair now gripped tightly at the pillows by her head. her eyes, hazy and tired, her chest rising and falling with hastened breaths as he crawled up to her, running a hand through her equally-matched messy hair and wiping stray tears that he caused, even though he knew it wasn't a bad thing.
without a word, he got up, leaving to slip into their bathroom. she heard the faucet run from her position on the bed and she rolled to the edge, peeking at his actions.
she knew he would take tender care of her, no different to how he did so every time.
—
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
#formula 1#formula 1 drivers#formula one#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#cl16 one shot#cl16 x y/n#cl16 x you#cl16 fluff#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fic#cl16 smut#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles x reader#charles smut#f1#f1 x you#charles x you
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🛏 Too Many Beds
*part of the reverse tropes series*
Pairing: Lando Norris x Engineer!Reader
Genre: Fluff/Humor
Summary: Lando had a master plan to get you in his bed. Too bad everyone seems to mess it up. And who knew you were terrified of bed bugs?
this was so much fun to write and I'm so excited for this mini series! New upload schedule will probably be Reputations on Friday and Reverse Tropes on Saturday!
TAG LIST CLOSED
Your hand gripped your suitcase as you stood in the lobby of the hotel. Of course, McLaren thought that it would be a good idea for some more team bonding before the season started and book an entire hotel. However, they forgot to mention that some of the people had to share rooms.
How you got placed with Lando, you didn’t know. You had seen Oscar snickering earlier when Zac had read the list of who shared what room. Your face was beat red as you tried to hide in your team zip up. Your eyes flickered to Lando, only to find him fast asleep against the window of the bus. There was some drool on his lip, and anyone else would have found that semi-disgusting.
But not you.
It was kind of…endearing.
But now that you were getting your key card and were in the elevator with a very sleepy Lando, your heartrate increased. You had tried to get your own room when you had gotten there, but Zac was intent with you sharing.
Something about driver and engineer comradery.
The floor before when Oscar got off, he had leaned over and whispered, “Have fun with the one bed.”
That statement made your face even redder. Of course that would happen to you. It was straight out of Tumblr or Wattpad. The one trope that you seemed to hate over everything. One bed normally meant that it was a single or a queen. And you were known for flopping everywhere.
Poor Lando probably wouldn’t get to sleep before the first rounds of development.
Although he was sleepy, Lando, on the other hand, was vibrating with excitement.
He had the whole thing planned out. He had requested to be put in a room with you. And then he swapped rooms with Oscar, because the Aussie had a girlfriend, ergo he had a single bed room. It was going to be perfect. Oscar would get the room with two beds, and Lando would just have to share a bed with you.
The Briton had had heart eyes for you ever since you joined his rookie season in 2019. And when you had been promoted to his race engineer, the crush he had grew tenfold. He could see your face getting more red the longer it took to get to the room.
“You ready?” he asked you before he used his card to unlock the door.
“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered, just wanting to sleep. At this point, you were planning to go to bed right away so that you didn’t have to deal with Lando crawling into bed behind you. You’d be asleep at that point, giving yourself no time to ogle at his chest (if he slept with a shirt off as most guys did.)
The click of the lock indicated that the door could be opened and Lando took the initiative. This was it.
Lando was going to live his dream.
Except, his heart dropped when he noticed that there wasn’t one bed.
There wasn’t even two beds.
The room had three beds.
What. the. actual. fu....
Lando was going to kill whoever messed this up. His heart dropped farther when he saw your eyes kind of light up at the sight of beds to choose from. The McLaren driver bit his lip as he assessed the problem.
You missed Lando’s agitation and put your things on the bed by the window. You turned to Lando, now confused at his pinched eyebrows.
“Did you want the one by the window?” you asked, suddenly mad at yourself for just going ahead without asking the driver his preference.
Lando immediately shook his head. “I like sleeping by the bathroom.”
You gave him a smile. “Ok. Can I shower real fast? I go to sleep a little early.”
That was a lie. You just didn’t want to be awake when Lando went to bed. Who knows what you’d be staring at. Your mind immediately went to the abs and v-line. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the unholy thoughts.
You quickly opened your suitcase, grabbed your pajamas, and disappeared behind the bathroom door.
Once Lando was sure that you wouldn’t come out, he quickly pulled out his phone and texted Oscar. It was to his horror that Oscar had sent a picture of the singular king that was supposed to hold you and Lando in tonight.
Except that now it would be for Oscar and Oscar only.
The Briton wanted to rip his hair out. He started pacing before he knew it.
How could he fix this?
He could lie and say he had separation anxiety and needed to sleep with someone. But you’d see right through and ask who else he’d shared a bed with.
He could spill a drink on your bed? That also wouldn’t work because then you’d question why he had a drink around your things while you were in the shower. Lando didn’t want to come off as a giant creep.
He was still pacing when he heard the door open up.
His body turned to face you, but he immediately averted his eyes. Not because you were undressed, but because your pajamas were the cutest thing on you. You were wearing one of those silk tank tops with the smallest shorts possible.
Lando watched as your feet got closer to your bed. His thoughts were flying around at 100 miles an hour. He had to do something quickly. Your hand pulled back the bedding when Lando yelled.
“Hold on. I think I saw some bugs on my bed and yours.”
The screech that you let out made Lando wince. You reeled back as though the duvet had burnt you. You quickly made your way closer to Lando.
“Where are the bed bugs?”
Lando couldn’t really tell, but he thinks he can hear your teeth chattering. You were getting antsy.
“Are you that scared of some small bugs?”
You crept closer to Lando.
“My childhood house got infected and we had to move. I also got such a bad infection from bites.”
Lando immediately felt terrible. He didn’t know. If he had, he wouldn’t have said anything and just sucked it up and slept in his own bed. He looked at you. He could see that you were close to tears. His arm immediately went around your shoulders and brought you closer.
You huffed. “Can we go down to see if they have any other rooms on our floor?”
The brunet nodded. He looked you up and down before he turned around and dug through his suitcase. You wondered what he was doing before a hoodie hit your chest. It was the dark green one that you absolutely loved on him. You gave him a confused look.
“Ah, your pajamas.”
Oh.
You looked down and realized that you were just in a very thin tank.
Without a bra.
And the room was cold.
Your face flushed as you quickly pulled the hoodie over your head. The ends of the hoodie landed mid-thigh. You knew Lando was taller than you, but you didn’t expect his hoodie to fall that far down.
Lando couldn’t take his eyes off you and you giggled and did a little spin, showing off how the green material looked on you.
You were so worried that you’d have a staring problem, that you completely missed Lando’s staring problems.
Once you were done, you headed to the doorway, Lando hot on your feet. He should have felt guilty about lying, but you were in his clothes and that made every feeling go away. The elevator ride was quiet, but comforting instead of awkward. The ding of the machine signaled that you two made it to the ground floor.
Lando stepped out first, followed by you. Before you got to the front desk, Lando pulled the back of the hoodie, making you halt. You gave him a confused look. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed you his card.
“I know you’re a bit scared of the bugs, so I’ll handle it. You want to get us some snacks?”
Lando melted at your eyes lighting up as you nodded. You wordlessly took his card and spun around, now walking in the direction of the little shop. He knew that you were always picky with snacks, so he’d have a bit of time.
He exhaled heavily as he walked up to the front desk. The receptionist cocked an eyebrow, probably not expecting anyone at this late hour.
His hands rested on the counter.
“So, me and a friend are staying in room 444, and I might have seen a few bed bugs on one of the beds.”
Lando winced as he lied. The lady’s eyes widened and she started typing.
“Ok, we’ll have someone come up and inspect it with one of our bug-dogs.”
Another wince. “Is that really necessary? Can we just move rooms?”
Some more typing. “I don’t think that’s possible sir. We have to inspect the room just in case. If it’s all clear, then the room will still be able to be slept in.”
Lando looked around before leaning in slightly.
“Ok, here’s the deal. I’m in love with the friend that I’m staying with. We were supposed to have a room with a single bed so I could make a move. But something happened and we got placed in a room with three beds instead of one. I panicked and lied about the bugs. Is there any way I can just switch rooms? I'll pay extra.”
Lando had hope in his eyes as he heard more typing.
“I’m sorry sir, but there aren’t any more rooms available for tonight. You’ll have to stay in the room you have.”
He hung his head as he nodded.
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” he muttered. When he turned around, he was met with you holding multiple snacks and some drinks. He hoped that you hadn’t heard anything. Thankfully, you didn’t mention his conversation.
As you walked into the elevator you asked, “So do we get to move rooms?”
Lando sighed. “There aren’t any available.”
You chewed on your lip. “Maybe, we can look at the middle bed and see if there are any there?”
He could kiss you right then and there. Lando went quiet for a minute.
“Only if that’s ok with you?”
You immediately nodded.
“I just don’t want any bugs on me. I think you’ll be able to keep me safe.”
The attempt at the wink that followed made Lando laugh as he got off the elevator. You couldn’t help but giggle as you followed him. Lando thought it was the cutest thing he ever heard. When you stepped into the room, you first headed to your luggage to pull it off the “bug infested” bed.
You placed it high on one of the dressers. Lando followed in suit.
Before you knew it, you and Lando were both under the covers of the middle bed after a full inspection that it was safe.
Lando was a bit skeptical that you hadn’t pushed to inspect the bed you were supposed to sleep in. Part of him wanted to believe that you also wanted to share a bed. But he wouldn’t dwell on the thought.
The snacks that you bought were quickly consumed, laughter shared between the two of you as you watched videos on Lando’s phone. You didn’t know exactly when it happened, but your head had started to rest on his shoulder. Lando took this opportunity to put his arm around the back of your neck.
Lando remained oblivious and was sure that this plan was working. You were scared and found sanctuary in his arms.
Except for the fact that you had overheard everything. Your phone was currently buzzing with messages from Oscar but you’d never let Lando know that.
Well.
You sighed as you unattached yourself from Lando’s side. You turned your face so that you could look into his eyes.
Half the time, you didn’t even know what color they were. Some days they were the brightest blue, others they looked more green, and the in the shade they were brown.
You smirked as you got closer.
“So, what did you tell the lady about getting me into your bed hm?”
You watched as a blush invaded Lando’s face before he put his hands over his face. Tik Tok was abandoned on the bedsheets below.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. You brought your hands up and peeled his own away from his face. Lando’s eyes flickered as he looked for some type of malice on your face. However, he only saw a smirk and a fiery look. He inhaled sharply.
“I have had a major crush on you since 2019. And when Zac said he’d be pairing people up, I begged him to get a room with one bed for us. We were supposed to switch with Oscar and this room was supposed to only have one bed. But, I guess Zac took it upon himself to already do it so I wouldn’t have to switch, but we did anyway.”
“Lando, I know. You think Oscar could keep a secret for that long?”
The brunet paused, blinked, stared at you, and blinked again.
“I’m going to kill Oscar.”
You giggled, making Lando melt once again.
“You’re not going to kill Oscar.”
A grumble escaped his lips as they turned into a pout. You took this moment to lean down and lightly peck them.
Once again, Lando froze.
“So, should we actually get some sleep?”
He could only nod his head, still not comprehending that you had actually kissed him and his plan worked semi-well.
You turned around and rested your head on the pillow. Just a few moments later, Lando’s arm found a home in the crook of your waist. He gently pulled, bringing your back closer to his chest.
So maybe he didn’t actually sleep shirtless, but that was fine because his head dug into your neck, just at your hairline. Lando breathed in deeply, getting situated.
Maybe the one bed trope did work.
You felt him smirk against your neck, but you thought he was close to sleep.
Until he spoke up.
“Sleep tight Y/n. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
“I’m going to murder you instead.”
y/n_l/n has posted
y/n_l/n I let the love bug bite 🐞 🌲
liked by mclaren, lando_norizz, papayaduo, oscarpiastri, and 104,948 others
y/nxlando UHHH HARD LAUNCH??
papaya.nation I knew that sweatshirt looked familiar when they walked in the paddock today!
landonorris4 the fact that he had a back up hoodie as well
formulala_delulu the couple who matches together - stays together 💚
oscarpiastri good to see that it all worked out in the end 😌
y/n_l/n let's not do that again, ok?
landonorris I thought you liked it tho 😙
y/n_l/n let it be know, you don't possess any rizz
oscarpiastri 🫵😂
loscar I need to know the lore behind this
norris4ever maybe he'll get a win now that he doesn't have to pine after y/n
mclaren814 my parents!
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#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norizz#f1 x driver!reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one fanfiction#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you
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SLUT! ━ C.L
based off ‘slut!’ by taylor swift
or
in which you work in a man’s world, and loving your competitor is a lot more damning for you than charles.
warnings; smut, driver!reader, themes of sexism and misogyny and touches on inequality, angst, lotta tension tbh, she’s kinda long, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praise, degradation like once, public sex, jealousy and maybe a bad friend reader if u squint, haas suck, manifested monaco win for charles :p
lovelorn and nobody knows
love thorns all over this rose,
i’ll pay the price, you won’t
you’d overcome enough challenges in your life.
you’d constantly proven everyone wrong, do what those said you can’t ━ every step and move you made was met with criticism instead of praise. doubt instead of belief.
you found a way. you broke the records, created your own more so. first modern day female f1 driver, and you didn’t intend to be the last.
haas wasn’t where you wanted to be, and while most expected you to be happy with just having a seat; that’s not why you were here. you didn’t fall in love with the sport to just become a driver.
you wanted to win. podiums, wins, championships. like the other 19 drivers ━ you all wanted the same thing.
for some reason you were the only one who got laughed at when speaking on such wants.
but you got used to the laughter, to the unamused or unimpressed journalists ━ this was a man’s world.
that didn’t scare you as a 14 year old girl, and it wouldn’t scare you now.
all these challenges and obstacles that you overcame, all the doubt and hate you shook off; yet there was a certain something you just couldn’t shake.
certain someone more so.
it killed you inside that a man of all things could cause you so much grief, so much internal conflict.
for some reason when it came to charles, you just couldn’t resist. putting your career first, which you’d done all your life, suddenly became difficult.
you didn’t show it, you also weren’t too hard on yourself. it was unfair to be in this position in the first place. to have to be so aware of your relation to the driver, any other drivers of that matter, was a circumstance only you found yourself in.
friendships and banters amongst any other pairings on the grid was adored; snatched up by social media and cameras.
your friendships caused headlines and unwanted press apparently.
it was something you picked up on quickly, the obsession of romance and the assumption that you wanted to sleep with every damn man you raced alongside.
you laughed at it, spoke down on such thing; then didn’t give it any of your time.
until suddenly the rumours were true; charles leclerc had somehow weaselled his way past every barrier and wall you put up.
it wasn’t something you accepted quickly. and once you caught wind of your stupid little heart and it’s fondness of the monegasque you were quick to try put the friendship and it’s entirety six feet under.
this worked, for a few months.
charles had been confused ━ under the assumption you two were at the bare minimum friends. as good as friends as two drivers could get at least. then suddenly you avoided him as if he was carrying the plague.
he couldn’t question it however; it’d be pathetic. to ask you why you refused to meet his eyes in press conferences and drivers briefings anymore.
why you avoided whatever side of the drivers parade truck he was on. why you couldn’t spare him more than a ‘hello’ in passing these days.
he interacted less with other drivers, and didn’t question them. so he couldn’t question you.
las vegas however, was your downfall.
drinking was unavoidable ━ daniel had made you promise to go out with him the moment you congratulated him on his return; and if it hadn’t been him, you knew someone would’ve of.
with daniel, there was max. that was fine; you got on well with max.
then there were talks lando would make it out, despite having gone to hospital; you knew a couple other drivers would also be in the same club you were. an entry fee so high, everyone around you was oozing importance and wealth.
it shouldn’t have surprised you when suddenly charles appeared at an already drunk daniel’s side; loud laughter and murmurs of a prior vegas trip giving you enough time to down your drink in preparation to be in his presence.
you couldn’t run, not when stood in a group of four; silver slip dress doing little to allow you to blend in with the crowd around you.
you felt his gaze on you before your eyes met his, almost as if it was causing heat on your skin ━ demanding you to look at him.
his eyes had met yours with a slight twinkle, slightly hooded and telling you that he too had enough alcohol running in his veins; and the lazy smile he flashed you had your own lips curving upwards with little resistance.
it was embarassing the way your cheeks went a tint of pink as you watched him weave around daniel who was now speaking to max, too engrossed in a story to care about the way charles moved him out of the way, to stand next to you.
immediately you were aware of his hand finding the small of your back as your body became aware of the closeness of him, breath getting caught in your throat as he leant down towards your ear.
“you look incredible,” the compliment was genuine; the smile accompanying his words rendering you unable to find room to complain.
suddenly it was too hot in here. you’d like to blame the alcohol, or the stuffy club. but the man to your left was the only reason you suddenly craved fresh air.
“thank you,” you hummed, not creating distance between the pair of you despite the idea crossing your mind. he was too close, you should step away. but his cologne smelt incredible. and his hand was still lingering on your back lightly.
his smile only grew at your response, having expected you to wiggle away and disappear into the crowd.
the conversation was harmless, it always had been; but speaking with charles was just a reminder that he was one of the good ones.
he’d only ever been kind to you; kind to everyone. one of the first to speak with you like any other driver, speak about racing and your careers without undermining you.
the more time you spent with him the more clear it became that he was flawless. and oh so tempting.
maybe you would’ve ended the conversation when daniel gave you an out, interrupting the pair of you. but it was with shots on a tray next to him.
three shots later and the four of you were all cringing, scrambling to find chasers; charles offering you a lime that you quickly took ━ managing to squirt lime juice everywhere but your mouth.
it had the pair of you erupting into giggles, your hands quickly landing on his shirt which was now speckled in droplets.
“i’m so sorry!” you exasperated, only now becoming aware of the way you were struggling to stand up straight. using his chest to balance you momentarily.
he wasn’t doing any better, telling you it was fine through his own laughter; his hand lifting to your face ━ thumb brushing a few droplets off your cheek as he too swayed side to side.
your eyes met, both drunken and amused ━ and suddenly all rational thoughts had left your body.
“we need another.” you declared, hand grasping around his forearm; watching as his lips parted to disagree. but he couldn’t. a good time too tempting to resist right now.
max and daniel were long forgotten as you weaved through the crowd to the bar to sought after shots of your own; unable to identify the moment your hands had taken grasp of each other.
it was a fun two hours; innocent as well, flirtatious maybe but his hand didn’t stoop lower than your back ━ drinks consistently being poured; drivers, personnel, sponsors and fans rotating through. but you didn’t leave charles side.
you weren’t on edge either, not thinking about the what ifs. about tomorrow or the next week. just enjoying the moment.
time had gone incredibly quickly. you lost track of how many hours had been spent at the bar, how many drinks you’d downed.
charles too, until you were leaning further and further into his side. his intake stopped the moment he realised you were now struggling to stand straight.
the thought entered his mind to find a member of your team, haas or personal, to help you get you to your room soon.
he was drunk, there was no doubt about it. but he was attempting to sober up in your presence.
when you spilt a drink over the bar however, he took responsibility and declared your night was over.
it was a struggle, as his hands clasped around your arms and attempted to push you towards the exit ━ quickly realising he too was struggling to walk straight.
he’d managed however, getting you into the back of his drivers car not as easy with you dropping your phone. then him his wallet, resulting in drunken giggles and mumbles as you finally got buckled in and situated.
most of the car ride was filled with you rambling, charles more than happy to let you speak. he’d missed hearing from you ━ even if he could barely make sense and keep up with your story.
it wasn’t until you were stumbling in the hotel, through the underground entrance thankfully, and into the elevator that there was moments of silence.
you leaned back against the wall, watching as charles pressed the buttons. admiring more so, head titled aside as you gazed over the ferarri driver.
only then did you realise you shouldn’t be in this position. because all you wanted to do was get your hands on him. admire him up close, the distance of the elevator a rude difference to how the night had been spent.
your arms reached upwards, practically beckoning him over; and with an amused smile he easily fell into place ━ approaching you as his hand pressed against the wall beside your head, eyebrows raising upwards in curiosity as he peered down at you.
your arms wrapped around his neck naturally, neither of you phased from the new closeness and comfortability ━ your eyes flickering over his face, lingering on his lips for a few moments too long.
“i want to kiss you,” the words escaped your lips without any thought; it was as if a weight was lifted off your chest. some form of confession quite relieving.
charles hummed at your words, smirking even as he let out a breathy chuckle.
“yeah?” he teased ━ his breath fanning your face, and you nodded without any hesitation. it’s not what you wanted that had you not making any movements.
“mhm,” you sighed, head falling back; charles having not expected the huff of disappointment. you missed the way his eyebrows furrowed for a split second. if he was sober maybe he’d pick up on your internal conflict.
“kiss me then,” charles chimed, hand finding the side of your head; cupping your cheek so delicately you could only lean into the embrace.
never had you called on such will power and mental strength, fighting every instinct and nerve in your body that was practically yearning for him. begging you to put yourself out of your misery for once and rid the distance between the pair of you.
but you hadn’t come so far for nothing. you could only make so many drunken decisions.
“i can’t,” the words were painful to say, even the slight numbness that alcohol brought; you felt every sting of the sentence.
you watched the way his lips only curved upwards, he hadn’t picked up on the seriousness of your words.
“why not?” the question was teasing, his thumb caressing your cheek making it difficult to stick to your guns.
you looked at him as if he should know; because you’d hope he’d have some sort of idea. maybe if you could see straight you would’ve realised that charles reality wasn’t the same of yours.
“people will talk.” it sounded pathetic when you said it out loud, the sentence sobering you up enough to realise such thing. you weren’t one to usually care what people thought, so the way his smile faltered made sense.
charles took a few moments to process your words ━ he would’ve stepped away if it weren’t for your arms around him.
he wanted to point out that you two were in fact alone, but he knew what you meant. no secret was kept secret for long in the world of f1.
“let them.” charles attempted to dismiss, a cheesy smile to match, one that had you smiling as well. but it wasn’t the grin you’d been carrying all night. it was a sympathetic one almost.
charles was putting some pieces together now, as much as he could at least. your avoidance of him was making more sense with the words currently leaving your lips.
“wouldn’t fair well for me,” you mumbled; the disappointment clear in your tone. the annoyance at the fact there was clearly something stopping you. your mood was falling, charles noticed that easily.
and while he himself wasn’t overjoyed with how the night was concluding, he wouldn’t let it be ruined.
“it’s okay,” charles reassured quickly, his lips pressing to your forehead delicately instead ━ you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, he didn’t want you to feel as if you needed too. “let’s get you to bed.” he grinned.
the affectionate action caught you off guard, left speechless as his hand grasped yours and began to directing you out of the elevator. it only having you feeling regret and self pity for letting the moment escape your fingertips.
which only piled on you tenfold when he left your hotel room barely after making it two steps inside.
climbing into the sheets alone had never been so painful.
painful. a good word to describe the next few interactions with charles.
abu dhabi had you on edge. you didn’t know how to face him.
it was typical, finding yourself sat next to him in the drivers press conference. feeling as if every journalist in the room would take note of the exchanging glances, the way your eyes would quickly find something else if his met yours. the way you listened to him speak a little too intently.
charles however had no worries. not a thought in his mind as he shamelessly admired you, listening to every answer you gave. watching as you reacted to the words of other drivers or questions that weren’t to do with you. he couldn’t look away.
you’d avoided him all morning and yesterday; having not caught you after vegas.
charles was used to such behaviour, except now, he knew why. and your reasoning wasn’t good enough to him.
you two could be friends; it didn’t need to be one extreme or the other. so he had no shame in putting in effort to deter yours.
it was frustrating, almost as if every corner you turned he was there. all weekend, if you were not in the haas hospitality or your motor home, charles was near.
it was no coincidence, leaving the press pen at the same time; passing him after any interview, stuck next to him at the drivers briefing.
you couldn’t avoid the conversation, every moment with him was just pushing you further to the edge ━ your self control was hanging by a very thin thread and you were almost ready to cut it every time those damn green eyes linger on yours.
when you arrived at your hotel after qualifying, it was easy to spot him waiting in the lobby. an odd sight considering the lurking fans.
it made sense however, when charles beelined towards the elevator the moment you did.
you had to hold your breath as you both got inside, biting down on the inside of your cheek to not allow your own frustration bubble over.
“what are you doing?” the question was asked through gritted teeth, and the confusion that masked charles face did little to convince you he was as clueless as he looked.
the twinkle of amusement in his eye revealed enough.
“what do you mean?” the question was almost a challenge, charles peering down at you inquisitively - as if he didn’t know the answer himself.
you took a breath, shaking your head ever so slightly.
to put it simply, you were annoyed. at the world for putting you in this position, at yourself for getting to this point, and him for making it more difficult than it had to be.
“you’re stalking me.” you accused; eyes narrowing into a glare; one that intensified as his own lips curved upwards, and if you weren’t so focused on being annoyed you would’ve swooned over the dimples that lined his cheeks in doing so.
“i am not stalking you,” charles mused, laughing at the accusation as he leant against the wall behind him.
you expected more of an explanation ━ your own eyes trained ahead of you at the elevator doors that remained shut. looking at him was too risky.
“you are. you’re everywhere.” you huffed; not pleased with how clear the frustration was in your tone.
charles wasn’t phased, not in the slightest ━ the grin hadn’t left his face; almost as if any conversation with you was more than enough. even if you were huffing and puffing.
he wasn’t sure how the infatuation had spiralled so quickly; maybe he just wanted what he couldn’t have. the man wasn’t too use to rejection, and last week definitely stumped him.
or maybe he just refused to let you run away from what you clearly both see. feel. there was a connection here, he was sure of it.
“are we not friends?” charles question had you drawing a deep breath, suddenly aware of how slow these elevators were. and recognising the first flaw with being blessed with a penthouse room.
“of course we’re friends.” you rolled your eyes, speaking with such certainty as if you needed to remind yourself. friends.
you two were friends at most, that’s all you’d allow the pair of you to be.
“then you shouldn’t actively avoid me.” charles hummed, no shame in calling out your obvious behaviour that he’d let go on for too long.
it was humorous, the way your jaw dropped in offence at the accusation you knew was true.
“i do not.” your voice went up an octave, not even you could believe your own lie ━ nor try to sell it, avoiding his eye now as your leg began to bounce impatiently. it was becoming suffocating, in an enclosed space with him.
“you do.” charles mocked your voice ever so slightly, but the smile that went along with it left you no room to complain as you glanced over at him; your own lips curving upwards for a mere second.
you had nothing to say. to you it was clear, he knew where you stood. but you weren’t budging. it’s not like you wanted to deprive yourself of him; but you refused to sacrifice your career for a man. call it paranoia; but you don’t want to find out the consequences of adding truth to rumours.
“you don’t trust yourself around me.” charles had you read, and he wanted you to know it.
you two could be, should be, able to be friends at least. the monegasque was unsure as to why he was so set on such thing; some of you, was better than none.
“don’t flatter yourself.” you mumbled, attempting to dismiss his words; he was right. hit the nail on the head actually, but you wouldn’t admit that.
“we can be friends.” charles huffed when he realised he was straying from his original intentions; he didn’t want to provoke or tempt you. just make it clear there can be a platonic relationship here. you shouldn’t be scared of that.
“we are.” you reminded, eyebrows raising as you looked up at him; finally holding eye contact with the driver for more than a few seconds.
“then stop avoiding me.” charles repeated; and he’d be ashamed of how desperate he sounded if he had any room to care. but you were more of a pressing issue.
if he hadn’t called you out on a whole range of fronts you would’ve commented on his desperation; the elevator ding beating you to it regardless as the doors slid open.
“fine. only because you care so much,” your reply was playful; attempting to sound amused and unbothered ━ maybe that would distract from the fact you were agreeing with him.
you only had another day of being around him, you could easily do a day with him. las vegas was an example of your strength and will.
but as his grin widened, dimples and all, green eyes still pouring into yours as he backed out of the elevator; you knew it was never going to be easy.
the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air
everyone wants him, that was my crime
the wrong place at the right time
of course it wasn’t easy.
you’d kept true to your word, he’d called you out so you finally relented.
the only solace you found in allowing yourself to get closer to charles was the fact you were right.
every moment spent with him felt like a ticking time bomb. you were cracking, you knew it. deep down you knew it was only a matter of time until you shattered and he’d be there to pick up every piece.
at first you’d coincidentally ran into him at your favourite cafe in monaco. not the first time you’d seen him there; but the first time he signalled you to sit down.
it was harmless at first, a quick catch up. one you’d have with any other colleague you’d bump into in public during winter break.
but there was something about seeing him in such casual attire, hoodie and sweats portraying him in a new light you couldn’t help but take a liking too.
what should’ve been five minutes of small talk was two hours of conversation; two hours of mind numbing tension, pretending to not notice the way his eyes would linger on your lips every now and then. or acting oblivious to the way you laughed at every second word that left his lips.
he parted with an offer to go on a run together sometime, and you accepted with the assumption it would be an empty gesture. a plan that never gets put in place.
but then he texted you a few days later; and suddenly you were struggling to find excuses to reject the offer. struggling to find the want too.
a run wasn’t dangerous. you’d both be pre-occupied.
and you were, until you were standing there puffed; exhausted and puffed; and struggling to not grow further flustered of the sight of a sweaty charles.
muscles flexing against the tight shirt, hair messier than usual; cheeks slightly flushed.
inviting him up to your place for a drink wasn’t your intention, but your mouth was a step ahead of your brain.
uncharted territory had now been crossed. messages were swapped regularly, weekly runs together was almost routine. then hours of conversation at either your apartment or his.
if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you definitely had now. it was beyond physical attraction. and it was mutual.
it was the way you found yourself always ensuring you had the biscuits he’d practically raided the first time he was over, always in an unopened packet awaiting him.
the way he found himself buying the lime flavoured water you preferred to drink after exercising; knowing your odd quirk of not being keen on regular water.
the way he came over with your coffee order and a chocolate croissant from your shared favourite cafe when you bailed on your run, apologising to him because you’d become run down with a cold.
“you didn’t have to do that,” you’d sniffled, heart fluttering at the kind gesture.
“what else are friends for,” charles had practically cheesed.
you’d like to convince yourself he was still at a safe distance, it made it easier to ignore the fact this wouldn’t last forever.
the limbo state was not ideal to neither of you, but it was much better than doing what you felt was inevitable. avoiding him again.
except that would just be much harder this time. before it was a crush; now you were swoon. you counted down the days to see him. awaited his name to appear on your phone.
there’d been close calls; moments where you thought one of you would crack.
like the time you struggled to grab a glass out of his cupboard, tippy toes and all it was out of reach.
you felt him behind you before seeing him, hand finding your hip as his other arm simply reached over you to grab a glass; quick to turn on your feet you hadn’t expected him so close.
“thanks,” you had mumbled, clearly flustered as you looked up at him ━ trapped between his frame and the counter; eyes finding his lips immediately.
silence fell over the pair of you, awaiting one of you to make a move.
you were glad charles had cleared his throat and stepped aside, returning to a safe distance ━ because you didn’t think you’d be capable of such thing in that moment.
charles questioned how he managed to do such thing, each and every time you got close to him he doubted how long he could resist being selfish.
he’d failed to realise back in abu dhabi that he neither could trust himself around you. he’d put in so much effort to prove to you that friends was possible, so naive to the fact it may be worse than before.
while he loved your company, it was a cruel reminder that you had ruled out the possibility of this going further. any dreams or fantasies of more would always stay that way; dreams. not reality.
it frustrated him beyond belief, not that he showed it. the way you gazed up at him through your pretty eyes; as if you’d do anything he asked. the way you always leant towards him when you laughed; how easily he could make you laugh.
and he couldn’t do anything about it. because he wasn’t selfish, you feared the consequences of being with him so he would not push you to face them.
deep down however, the pair of you knew it could only be a matter of time.
yet it still stung how easily it could’ve been avoided.
you weren’t meant to go out tonight, it had been a last minute and spontaneous decision; pressured by your friends who insisted, claiming you missed too many girls nights as it is. that winter break was there time to make up for all you miss while away during the season.
you got kicked out of the first bar you found yourself in, all because one of your friends picked a fight with the bartender; but that didn’t bother you in the moment.
on to the next.
it took a whole eight minutes being at the club, one you had subtlety name dropped to get yourself and your friends into, to spot charles in the crowd.
your friends eyes had found him first; your own merely following theirs in curiosity, and you were grateful that all four of you were preoccupied looking at the driver so they would fail to realise your own longing.
“i have not seen him in ages,” your friend stella spoke first; clueless to the developed friendship between the pair of you. you hadn’t really told anyone, call it trust issues.
“we should go say hi,” stella continued; looking at you all with hopefulness; eyes having lit up and appearing incredibly eager.
you couldn’t think of a worse idea. alcohol and charles almost ruined you once; and that was a few months ago. you didn’t think you had that much self control left.
“we have our own driver right here,” your friend had joked, rejecting the idea as she nudged your arm; purely because she wanted a girls night. and you laughed at the stupidity, ready to play along for your own selfish interests.
“unfortunately y/n, you’re not one stella can sleep with again,” your other friend joked through a smirk, alcohol causing word vomit, because by the way stella quickly slapped her arm told you that information she didn’t want shared.
the revelation had your face falling flat, not able to hide such thing as you pursed your lips in thought.
“you and charles?” the words escaped your lips with too much interest but you couldn’t stop yourself. suddenly needing to know more.
stella had let out an exasperated sigh.
you were grateful to know your friend beside you who rejected the idea of speaking to him was as shocked as you.
“ages ago.” stella tried to downplay, waving the idea off. although then she peered over her shoulder to look at the driver again, an innocent smile spreading across her face.
you nodded slightly, trying to muster a fake smile. you couldn’t be mad; it wouldn’t be rational to be mad. even in the slightest.
“i’m gonna go talk to him.” stella announced, and you could only swallow intently as your friend whined about it being girls night, watching as stella promised she’d be back before weaving through the crowd.
you were staring, but you didn’t care.
left to watch as stella made her presence known. watch as charles face lit up at the familiar face, embrace her quickly and introduce her to those he was stood with.
you could tell he was slightly tipsy, the way he was swaying side to side; even with his arm now draped around stella’s shoulders.
the sight made you sick. jealousy was an ugly trait but you’d never embraced it like you were now.
jealous of the fact your friend didn’t have to worry in going after what she wanted. jealous that she could quite happily cling to charles without worrying who saw.
your mood had plummeted, there was no hiding it. your friends definitely noticing but not questioning as they too glanced over at stella to note her progress.
it wasn’t until charles’ eyes found yours across the room that you looked away.
not in shame, you didn’t care that he knew you were watching; but more so to not make it clear how annoyed you were from the sight alone.
charles tensed up the moment he saw you ━ he hadn’t known you were here. and now that he did, the company he was with suddenly wasn’t good enough.
he’d picked up on your cold stare though; the way you failed to offer him your usual sweet smile.
suddenly he felt guilty, quick to remind himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
the driver distracted himself momentarily, tuning back into the conversation that was going on around him. but his mind was now elsewhere. you were consuming his thoughts now.
intentions to keep his distance were thrown out the window when he noticed you in his peripheral; standing at the bar alone.
he shouldn’t approach you; but the idea of letting you sit there and think he would rather spend his time with the blonde on his arm than you didn’t sit well with him either.
so he found himself excusing himself, heading to the bar where you stood.
you’d grabbed your drink, and the moment you turned around to head back to your seat and continue your moping, you’d spotted charles headed straight towards you.
a creature of habit; avoid him was your first thought. so you attempted to pretend to not see him, a sudden sense of urgency as you headed back to the booth your two friends were still sat at.
charles picked up on such thing however, his own urgency increasing as he managed to get ahead of you; practically cutting you off.
you’d been so desperate in your attempts to avoid him and his eyes that you collided, your drink taking the brunt of the hit as it fell to the ground; pouring ice and liquid on the floor, thankfully missing the pair of you.
you were quick to glare up at him, made to watch as he put his hands up in innocence and let out a quick and not too meaningful ‘sorry.’
you didn’t want to speak to him. he was an easy target for your current anger, so stepping around him was easy; you’d go without your drink for now, wanting to return to the safety of your booth.
but charles didn’t think that was fair.
he’d grabbed your arm before you made it two steps away; your name falling from his lips almost in warning.
“you don’t get to be mad at me.” charles huffed, it wasn’t fair. you told him that friends was the only possibility, so you had no reason to be glaring daggers and avoiding him as if he’d done something wrong.
he was right, you knew he was right. you weren’t even mad at him. but you were mad; fed up with the constant deprival you had to put yourself through, at how much you cared about what people would say ━ that you couldn’t put you and him out of your shared misery.
but unfortunately you had nothing else to aim your anger at; it was just you and charles in this position, meaning he fell into your firing line.
“i think you care too much about what i think of you.” you tried to dismiss his comment; not wanting to admit he was right, calling out his constant efforts of chasing you.
you watched as his jaw tensed, the breath he let out and his eyes drifting aside as he tried to rationalise his thoughts before he said something he’d regret.
“i didn’t know you knew stella.” charles huffed; deciding on what could be a civil approach. he didn’t need to explain himself, but that would be easier than playing into your game and letting you try create a rift between the pair of you.
you wanted to throw the words back at his face; but you stopped yourself. neither he nor stella owed you any loyalty when it came to one another; definitely not back then, so you couldn’t use it against him.
“it doesn’t matter.” you tried to sound calm, remove yourself from the animosity you held. if you could just get away from him, go home, and pretend this never happened.
“it clearly does.” charles didn’t miss a beat; it would have been easier to blindly believe you but how was that possible when you were refusing to meet his eyes and running away from him.
you shook your head, not knowing what to say because you couldn’t disagree there. he was right; like usual, surprise, surprise. truths were harder to ignore when it was coming from his mouth.
“it shouldn’t.” you spoke simply, before turning on your heel and heading towards the bathroom now; anywhere to get away. the thread was getting thinner, you didn’t trust yourself around him.
he’d debated on following you for a couple seconds, knowing what he should do. return to his friends. to stella; there was no complications there.
but yet he found himself just a few steps behind you, refusing to let you get the last word. to let you fall back into your old habits of avoiding him.
a part of you knew he was following you, or maybe that’s what you wanted to believe. your want to get away from him was just a product of self preservation, not true desire.
so you weren’t surprised to hear your name once you were about to reach the bathroom. turning around to face him with a sigh. you should’ve pretended to not hear him.
“what are you doing?” you huffed; looking at him with lost eyes because you were running out of things to say or do, unsure where to go from here.
“what do you want?” charles question caught you off guard, alongside the fact he took maybe one or two steps too many when catching up to you ━ so close and you couldn’t find the strength to create any distance.
you pursed your lips, shaking your head ever so slightly.
the lack of an answer spoke for itself, you knew what you wanted. him. but admitting such thing would be dangerous.
“you know we can’t━” you started to say, needing to remind yourself that as tempting as he was right now it wasn’t possible.
he cut you off however. charles knew what you thought; what you presumed others would think.
“i don’t care about anyone else. what do you want?” charles repeated, speaking with such intent it would’ve been intimidating if your mind wasn’t a scramble of thoughts.
he was practically begging you to spell it out for him; to face the truth of the matter. if you could look him in the eye and tell him you were happy with what you both had right now, he’d walk away.
but you were never going to do that. you could only bend so far.
you finally snapped.
connecting your lips with his was the easiest option, and the moment you did it was as if nothing else mattered. relief washing over the pair of you, as if a giant weight was suddenly lifted.
there’d been the slightest amount of hesitant in the action, but that was forgotten immediately.
it was rushed and messy at first, months worth of tension bubbling to the surface as your hands both pawed at one another eagerly; grabbing whatever you could.
having your hands on him wasn’t something you’d take for granted; gripping his shirt; moving to his biceps before wrapping around his neck.
his intentions were similar to yours, his large hands sprawling amongst the sides of your waist ━ not bothered by the way it caused your dress to bunch ever so slightly. he tugged you closer too, as if he was scared you’d leave his grasp.
he managed to back you into the bathroom without disconnecting your lips; hand only leaving your waist to fiddle blindly with the lock.
the kiss was still messy, eager and heated; gasping into his mouth when your back suddenly hit the wall. charles body enclosing you immediately, your legs suddenly feeling week as his hips pressed forward against yours.
it was not surprising that it didn’t stop their, neither of you were stopping now that the ice had been broken.
the night concluding with your hands spread on the wall ahead of you as charles pounded you from behind, dress bunched around your waist and panties pulled aside.
“gotta be quiet mon amour,” he’d whispered into your ear after your moans continued to grow in volume ━ his hand then moving to your jaw, sliding two fingers past your lips to shut you up.
you would’ve died happily in that moment, moments away from the best orgasm of your life.
no matter what happened, you wouldn’t be regretting it.
and I break down, then he's pullin' me in
in a world of boys, he's a gentleman
you hadn’t seen charles since that night in monaco.
he’d left for maranello not too long after, then you spent the rest of break in america; the season approaching relatively quickly.
messages were swapped, but nothing more.
testing was hectic, you didn’t get to see him or spend time with him even if you wanted too.
you weren’t sure you wanted to however. you missed him, that had been mutually expressed over text. but both you and he were scared; unsure how to navigate what happens now.
because unfortunately the circumstances hadn’t changed, you’d just gotten a taste of one another.
by the time it was raceday at bahrain, all excitement for the start of the season had left your body.
thursday set the tone; all your hard work, months of avoidance and deprival ━ it suddenly meant nothing.
you first caught wind of such in the press conference, sat alongside max, lewis, lando, carlos and alex.
when you finally got asked a question, your breath got stuck in your throat.
“did you enjoy your winter break? a new trainer in charles it seems?”
the question was posed so innocently, you knew the tone. the cheery and amused light heartedness to mask the undertones; it was accusing. you knew it was; any girl would get it.
you knew photos were circulating of you and charles running around monaco, but that wasn’t an issue. there were photos of you and daniel out for lunch as well. ones of you and toto exchanging hello’s.
what a headline; you got along with people you worked with.
“uh yeah,” you laughed off; biting your tongue, like usual. you knew when to pick your battles. “i’m no good at padel so, stuck to running.” you hummed, left to watch as the journalist nodded almost unconvinced.
it was a sinking feeling; they knew, everyone knew. it’d somehow got out. that you’d slept together. paranoia; you had to remind yourself. they couldn’t know.
“is it difficult to have relations off track with competitors?” he was looking you dead in the eye as he posed another question to you, and it hit a nerve.
you shifted ever so slightly in your seat. you hadn’t faced these sort of questions since your rookie year, when journalists didn’t realise what they should and shouldn’t imply.
you had to hold back a scoff; biting down on the inside of your cheek.
“is that a question for all of us or just me?” you practically challenged, and the awkwardness that fell over the room only had the pit in your stomach growing.
it was as if they all knew something you didn’t.
that was all you were asked, all you could think about as you sat on the couch, itching to get out of this damn room.
but that was just the start.
entering the haas hospitality your gut feeling made sense when you were faced with the entirety of the press team awaiting you.
granted, the press team was only four people. but you only ever really dealt with your own press officer if it was without warning.
the whole conversation was a blur, you felt sick the moment it begun.
‘we need to have a meeting,’
‘there’s photos of you and leclerc,’
‘damming to your reputation. our reputation,’
‘unacceptable behaviour and a breach of contract,’
‘negotiating to not let mainstream media run with it,’
‘we’re opening our own private investigation.’
you were being spoken at, no room to reply, no ounce of sympathy. you could feel the disgust as they spoke. as if you’d actually done something wrong.
“investigation?” you repeated in confusion, bewildered as you glanced between the lot of them.
you didn’t know what to say. or do.
deny? beg them to cover it up? apologise?
you felt like that 13 year old girl again, that anything you said wouldn’t matter. keeping your mouth shut as they broke out in chatter again.
short. blunt. your own press officer not even sticking around as they the dispersed, even mentioning that gene would probably be calling later.
you felt like you were going to throw up the moment you got into the privacy of your drivers room, it only taking a few seconds to find the photos flooding your timeline.
monaco. it was undeniable. it was definitely him, definitely you, kissing.
you held back your tears, determined to not let the comments ruin you. your press teams words lingering, but you pushed them back.
the day dragged, you were on edge; one wrong move and an on pour of tears would arise to the surface. just needed to wait till you were in the privacy of your hotel room.
these people would not see you cry.
you hadn’t expected the cold shoulder from your own team. but it was your manager that was the tip of the iceberg.
you hadn’t seen him all day, a close friend you’d consider him, he’d been with you since f3.
“where have you been?” you breathed as you climbed into the car, more than relieved to be leaving the track. and hopefully every conversation that was had.
“cleaning your mess.” he’d muttered in annoyance, and you couldn’t help but shake your head as your jaw clenched.
“not you too,” it was an attempt of a joke, head resting against the window. “don’t know why people are acting like i shared the teams 3 year plan with the enemy,” you huffed.
but you were only met with silence, causing your eyes to glance to your manager who was focused on his laptop in his lap.
“i mean it jason. the way i was treated today was━” you began to speak up at his silence, anger was easier than the self pity.
“what did you expect?” his question was venomous, shutting you up quickly as you stared at him with a slack jaw. it took a few moments to process, how he was on side with them.
or more importantly, not on your side. the guy who you pay to be on your side.
“for my personal life to remain personal.” you spoke like it was obvious.
you had feared this, yes, but that didn’t mean it was right. maybe you held onto hope your lack of faith in the world was misplaced. but everyone was proving you right.
he shook his head simply, so disappointingly you had to laugh, eyes gazing back out the window as you rapidly approached the hotel.
“i thought you didn’t want to be known for this.” his comment was a throw away one, but it cut you deep. his insinuation one he knew would sting, so you didn’t hide the fact it did.
“known for what?” you spoke through gritted teeth; if he wanted to insult you he better not half ass it.
there was moment of silence, hesitance; but not long enough.
“sleeping around.” he shrugged, still typing away on his computer. “great way to halt contract talks. i mean come on y/n,” he groaned.
you weren’t sure if he was right, you’d like to think your talent would over shine paddock gossip. but if he was right, the problem should lie with teams misogyny. not your sex life.
you highly doubt ferarri will hesitate resigning charles because of the matter.
you didn’t say another word, not trusting your voice; it was too much. felt like you were being attacked from every angle. ambushed even.
you’d slammed the door the moment you got out the car, urgently getting inside the hotel; managing to find the elevator through blurry eyes, tears threatening to spill.
almost there.
the elevator ride was testing, the silence made your short breaths and sniffles hard to ignore as you tiptoed on the line of breaking.
the final straw however, was charles himself leaving his hotel room as you navigated your way to yours.
your name had never sounded so delicate coming from his lips, as if he knew that you were fragile, sympathetic eyes as he took a few steps towards you.
“don’t━” you breathed out, voice breaking on you before you could say his name. your hand raising to tell him to stay where he was.
the first tear fell, silently.
“i’m so sorry,” he breathed out; cautiously stepping forwards despite your action. it broke him, the sight of you. he’d never seen you so upset.
overjoyed, pissed off, ecstatic, confused, riled up; he’d seen it all. but never had he seen you cry.
“you’re the last person i want to see right now.” you managed to get out.
lie.
complete lie, but unfortunately once more he was an easy target. the face of today’s events and the reason for fractures in practically every professional relationship you’d formed over the years.
charles didn’t take your words to heart, watching as you fumbled to find your room key; your shaky hands had him frowning, behind you now as he grabbed your arm when you took a step inside.
“please,” charles sighed; desperate for you to let him help. let him comfort you. he felt responsible, but it wasn’t guilt that was pushing him towards you.
just the need to ensure you were okay.
he’d barely received a slap on the wrist. told by his press team to ‘be more careful next time.’ and reminded issues would arise if talks of strategy and racing came to light.
that was that. his day went on. he almost got ahead of himself, optimistic the day could end with him showing up at your door to tell you that you never had anything to worry about.
but word spread quickly in the paddock, and charles caught onto the double standards incredibly quickly with how you were being spoken about in comparison to him.
you didn’t trust your voice once more, simply shaking your head ‘no’ as you got inside, attempting to shake his grasp.
he didn’t let you however, which was almost a relief.
the door shut behind the pair of you, charles tugging you towards his chest immediately.
you had no more strength, no fight left; simply letting him do so as the tears poured.
your head met his chest, arms clinging to his shirt as his arms went around you; holding you close as he mumbled encouraging words.
he felt like a safe place, allowing you to be weak and vulnerable with no fear for the first time in a long time.
quiet sobs and sniffles escaped you as you shook in his hold. it wasn’t just a days worth of torment, no, but all the other shit you put up with from the start of your career.
charles wasn’t sure what to say, just that it’d be okay. let it out. i’ve got you.
his hand was running through your hair delicately, and you somehow register the multiple kisses he pressed to the top of your head; such subtle actions that managed to slow your heart rate.
“i’m so sorry,” charles words were whispered, it was what brought you out of your own head; teary eyed peering up at him as you shook your head.
this wasn’t his fault.
“not your fault,” you spoke through a deep breath, starting to gain your composure. still timid, but you’d gotten the tears out.
“it’s not yours either.” charles spoke in certainty, sounding pissed off. because he was. and it made your stomach flip.
it was the bare minimum, but hearing someone be in your corner was exactly what you needed. the fact it was charles was just a bonus.
“i mean it’s more my fault than yours. i didn’t leave you alone, putain, i am sorry,” he began to ramble. the guilt was eating him alive. you’d tried to avoid this ━ he couldn’t help but feel as if he threw you into the lions den.
you disagreed however. deep down, this all felt inevitable. like it was a matter of when, not if. you were so scared of this happening because apart of you knew there was no avoiding it.
“i don’t regret it.” you told him in certainty, hand moving to cup his cheek; offering a sad smile. “it’s just━ not fair.” you mumbled.
his smile mirrored yours, lacking the usual brightness it held as thumb lifted to your cheeks; brushing away the tears staining your skin.
“it’s gonna be okay. i’ll fix this.” charles promised, but it wasn’t a promise he could keep. you knew that, your head tilting aside as you sighed.
his intentions were pure, held your best interest at heart.
“m’ just gonna have to let it blow over.” you told him, taking a sharp inhale. that didn’t answer the question that lingered between the pair of you.
what this was. what you two were.
he nodded ever so slightly, frustration growing at the fact he couldn’t fix it himself. he wanted to help. to rid you both of the outside noise and judgmental opinions.
“but i think━” you’d cut yourself off, you didn’t want to say it.
he knew however, by the way your grip had tightened on his shirt. the way your eyes held sympathy and sorrow. he knew what you were going to say.
“i know,” charles sighed; nodding in reassurance.
this needed to stop. whatever this was, it couldn’t go further. not for now at least; charles knew that.
rumours won’t die down if there is still truth to them.
your bottom lip quivered slightly at the sight of the sad smile he showed you; the way he was so willing to comply.
you hated the fact you both had to suffer, all for what?
“i’ll stay away, i promise,” charles hummed; biting down on the inside of his cheek as he ran his fingers through your hair once more.
you still had no words, because it was the last thing you wanted. yet somehow was what you needed.
you’d like to say to hell with it, to tell him you didn’t care. that you could be together, and figure out the latter.
but today had been hell; you weren’t sure it was something you could get used too.
“thank you,” you whispered out; charles only response was pulling you close once more, knowing when he let you go, it would be for good.
he had to let you go.
but if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us
if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once
charles stayed true to his word.
it was obvious, the way you two steered clear of each other.
talk of you and him died down, the paddock found something else to focus on within a couple weeks; and it was just another story for the history books that would be brought up every now and then.
their was awkwardness in the team however.
their investigation closed with no findings, something you laughed at.
a motivator; to get the fuck out of there.
it paid off, comfortably beating your teammate. dragging the car into the points most weeks.
talks with mercedes was going well, progressing nicely ━ you wanted to emphasise to your manager that charles hadn’t been mentioned once from them either.
but you weren’t going to dwell on the past.
not audibly at least.
charles was a sacrifice you hated making, and it was mutual.
it was cruel, the way you were too scared to meet his eye if cameras were around. scared one wrong move and you’d be jumped on by prying eyes and gossipers.
charles too shared your fear; he didn’t want to put you in a compromising position. and while it was physically painful to cut you off completely, he managed.
none was easier than some, it seemed.
it was laughable, how the pair of you actually believed the avoidance would stick this time. that it would actually work.
couldn’t even make it to summer break, a few months apart was bound to be all you could endure.
monaco, a race you’ll never forget.
your signing with mercedes was announced on the thursday; a milestone in your career, a highlight.
you were ecstatic, nay-sayers and doubters did little to dull your mood ━ nothing would ruin such an achievement.
but it motivated you.
you heard it all before, when you signed with haas. how it was a PR move, not on merit. for the money you would bring in. the commercial value.
it was the same thing, and the need to prove people wrong was always a blessing when you got in the car.
it’d been a wet qualifying, playing into your favour. putting the car into p3 meant everything would’ve had fallen into place. and it did.
you were overjoyed, the smile had not been wiped off your face. you were proving that contract was yours based off your talent.
you went on to hold onto p3 in the race and secure a podium, you were high off adrenaline and excitement the moment you got out of the car.
you’d handled the pressure, failed to make a mistake; blessed to have had your best qualifying at the hardest place to overtake.
the other headline of the weekend?
charles had finally won his home race.
he wasn’t on your mind, not as you shared the podium. or as you faced the media together afterwards.
you cared deeply for charles, but this was your childhood dream. years worth of hard-work had finally paid off. being near him wasn’t hard, for once, because you had way too many things to currently be happy about.
it was civi and casual, friendly; in the cool down room, on the podium; in the interview.
it wasn’t until later that night, on a random super-yacht, surrounded by drunken socialites and f1 personalities that temptation reached you once more.
you’d barely had a drink, being pulled in every way and direction; talking to many that you didn’t have time to sip the half full glass in your hand.
charles knew this; he’d been watching you all night.
his dream had come true, winning in monaco; in front of his home fans.
call him greedy for wanting more as he stood on the yacht, surrounded by his friends as his eyes settled on you.
he couldn’t help but think of the only way to make this night perfect; you.
the praise and congratulations from everyone else was nice, but he was dying to hear it from you.
to congratulate you as well. on your podium. on your contract.
he thought he was over it, the unfairness of it all. but this was a new challenge.
watching as you stood there, hugging everyone. beaming and laughing, as you should.
would it be so wrong for him to congratulate you as well? to steal a couple minutes of your time? he’d promised to stay away, but this had to be an exception.
right?
so charles went against his word, weaving through the crowd the moment you caught a break in conversations.
uncharacteristically dismissing those who tried to speak to him as he set on his way towards you, nothing would stop him.
“hey,” charles made his presence known; capturing your attention; and the way your eyes lit up and lips curved upwards, he wanted to kill whoever had deprived him of such sight for however many months.
“hi!” you couldn’t help but sound surprised, pleasantly surprised.
you’d been wanting to talk to him; which wasn’t anything new. needing to talk to him however, just unsure how to navigate such thing.
“congratulations. sure you’ve heard it all, but you deserve this.” charles words were genuine; smiling down at you proudly, and while you had heard it all the past couple hours; it meant more coming from him. “the contract as well. huge news,” he added.
your nose scrunched up slightly, grinning ━ pure happiness present because you really were oh so happy.
“thank you,” you smiled; nodding appreciatively. “i should say the same to you. i know how much this win means to you,” you spoke; and charles could only smile at the way you sounded so sincere.
“thank you,” his turn to offer thanks, a silence falling over the pair of you.
that was all you should say, all you were sure was excusable.
it was clear, the way you both had so much on the tip of your tongue; too scared to let it out. neither wanting to be the one to crack. to undone all the hard work.
charles so desperately wanted to rant his heart out, remind both you and himself that the past few months had been undeserved torture. and he was convinced he was going to for a moment.
but he couldn’t. he wouldn’t be selfish with you.
“well i’ll see you━” charles had cleared his throat, ready to do the right thing. to walk away, like he promised he would.
but you cut him off. scared if you didn’t tell him now, you never would.
“wait.” you interrupted, pursing your lips; and he was happy to shut up. he didn’t need any convincing to stay put.
“i uh, with my mercedes contract…” you trailed off; biting your lip. “i made it clear, what expectations would be of me. on and off track, obviously. like anyone would,” you rambled slightly; nervously even.
charles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you nervous.
you were nervous because of what you were implying.
you’d made it clear you didn’t want to be held to any individual expectations off track, that your relations with others wouldn’t concern the team if it didn’t jeopardise the team.
you were grateful, how understanding mercedes were. a breath of fresh air really. so much you’d basically outright told them that you didn’t want you and charles to be an issue, if anything were to arise between the pair of you.
you’d figured if you had a team that backed you, handling outside noise and assumptions would be made a lot easier.
“me and you, it wouldn’t be an issue.” you summed up; practically spitting it out. it felt weird, suddenly lacking confidence as you referenced a ‘you and him.’ worried that ship had sailed.
you watched as his eyebrows raised, lips parting in surprise.
he hadn’t expected you to say such thing, the one thing he’d dreamt of you saying one too many times.
“if that uh, you know. ever happens, i don’t know,” you added on; feeling the need to back pedal, not wanting to come off headstrong. it was the reason for your hesitance. you and charles had never discussed what you were, because it never seemed possible.
charles wasn’t sure what to say. his first instinct was to kiss you; because it seemed as if this was the best night of his life, with all his hopes and dreams coming true.
but his care for you trumped all.
“people will still talk,” he couldn’t help but remind softly. not to argue against you, but to ensure you knew exactly what you were implying. he knew the rush you were feeling, first podium. fresh off multiple highs, he didn’t want you to come crashing down tomorrow and regret these words tonight.
he didn’t know you’d already assessed all your options, weighed up the two cons. your mind had been made up, you just needed to bite the bullet.
you’d already been through it, called every name in the book. may as well make it all for something.
“let them.” you breathed out, a shy smile following suit, mischievous almost, quoting him from that night in vegas. you’d said it with confidence, such conviction he knew you meant it.
his smile was bright, practically beaming at you as he nodded. unsure what to do next, but he didn’t care. he liked the way things were looking.
he hadn’t expected you to kiss him, in the middle of the crowded floor, but god he wasn’t complaining ━ hands finding the small of your back as yours wrapped around his neck.
you’d pulled away shortly afterwards, not creating any distance as your foreheads touched.
“if you still want this of course,” you spoke; just above a whisper, realising you hadn’t really let him confirm he still wanted this.
he’d laughed, at the idea alone he didn’t. shaking his head at the thought as he brought his hand up to cup your face.
“all i could think about tonight, was that the only thing that would make today truely perfect, would be sharing it with you.” charles confessed; taking in the way you lit up at his words, watching as any last doubts or fears vanished from your frame.
you were relaxed, happy and carefree; not one bit of energy spent on anyone around you. who saw, who cared; it meant nothing to you.
you giggled as you pressed your lips to his again, passionately this time; charles leaning over you as he held your body close to his, smiling against your pink lips.
it felt incredibly cliche, as if you were the only two people on the yacht in the moment.
he’d murmured something about getting out of here only moments later, you being quick to agree.
patience was something you’d both demonstrated incredibly well over the last year; safe to say you both had none left to spare.
navigating the crowd hand in hand almost felt like a rush, relieving to not care as you followed him off the yacht; giddy like teenagers as you climbed into the back of a car.
he’d barely gotten his address out before you were on him again, lips pressed against his as you gripped his shirt.
charles hand tangled in your hair, revelling in the way your lips felt against his. he’d spent many nights recounting your night together; attempting to cling to the feeling and pleasure it brought. this was ten times better than what his imagination could produce.
the only time you kept your hands off him was the short walk from the car to the elevator of his apartment complex, the moment the doors slid shut you found yourself pressed against the wall ━ his hands gripping your hips and lips attacking your neck.
you became breathless quickly, satisfied hums escaping you; head tilting back to give him as much access as he wanted.
“have i ever told you how beautiful you are mon ange,” charles sighed against your skin; only lifting his head when he heard the doors ring open.
you smiled at him stupidly, taking in the sight. his pretty green eyes, slightly swollen lips and tussled hair. more beautiful than anything you’d ever seen before.
“come on,” you mused with a blush, urging him to head to his room; in quick pursuit.
you’d barley gotten your heels off once inside when charles was snaking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up as your legs wrapped around his waist.
it didn’t feel really; finally able to have you like this.
“gonna make you feel so good,” charles murmured against your lips as he navigated his way through the apartment, hands squeezing your ass which granted a gasp from you. “deserve so much more than a quickie in the bathroom,” he commented.
while your first time together was more than satisfying, it was rushed. muffled moans and chasing release desperately with fear the moment could’ve been ruined in any moment.
tonight you were all his. no need to keep you quiet, no limit to the positions he could put you in.
he sat at the end of his bed; you not taking long to get comfortable in his lap as your lips moved roughly against his; hips grinding as you did so.
“you won,” you breathed out as you shifted your attention up his jaw, teeth catching his ear momentarily as you kissed at the skin of his neck. “let me make you feel good,” you whispered; charles head tilting back as he audibly groaned. “you deserve it,”
charles always loved praise, his ego thrived on it. but god, hearing it from you? his pants were feeling way too tight.
he couldn’t say no to you, not that’d he’d ever want too.
you didn’t give him any time to reply regardless, climbing off his lap and standing between his legs momentarily, hands holding onto his knees as you pressed one lingering kiss to his lips.
sinking to your knees, you were incredibly eager. a scenario you’d play out too many times as your hands got to work in freeing his cock.
charles lips parted as he rested back on his hands, head tilted downwards as he watched you intently ━ biting down on the inside of his cheek at the sight alone.
his breaths only got heavier as you spat in your hand and jacked him off a couple times, hissing as your thumb rolled over his tip.
the sight was better than you could imagine, as you took him in your mouth and watched his head fall back. his clenched jaw, neck muscles and arms flexing as he groaned.
it had your thighs clenching together, not wasting time in bobbing your head; taking as much of him as you could; hitting the back of your throat each time but it did little to deter you.
“putain,” charles grunted under his breath ━ forcing himself to tilt his head back down to watch you work, hand gathering your hair in a makeshift pony tail. and the way his lips curved into a smirk when your eyes met his had your thighs clenching once more.
“there you go pretty girl, taking me so well,” charles huffed ━ noting the way you gagged around him every now and then, yet showed no signs of slowing down. “mouth is fucking heaven,”
his praise only encouraged you further, doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes; tears welling in your eyes.
your hand was holding his thigh for support, watchinf as he busied himself momentarily by ridding himself of his shirt ━ revealing his toned torso flexing with each sharp breath he took.
“pull your dress down,” his words were direct, a clear demand and with him staring down at you like he was ready to ruin you, you didn’t need to be told twice. tugging your dress down to free your breasts.
his admiring eyes raked your body shamelessly, pleasure only increasing from the sight. you were fucking perfect, and he couldn’t believe this was real.
it was as if you caught on to the moment, reading him perfectly as your efforts picked up ━ keen to make him cum.
and by the way he was starting to tug on your hair, you knew he was close.
he came in your mouth moments later with little warning, and you were practically squirming in your place as you licked him clean.
“you’re perfect,” charles breathed after catching his breath, which happened incredibly quickly; signalling you to climb back into his lap.
you giggled as you did so, grinning as you pressed your lips to his once more; straddling him with ease as your hands spread across his toned chest ━ happy to touch him now that he was back in reach.
his hand moved up your leg, pushing your panties aside and cupping your cunt with little warning; causing you to moan into his mouth.
“you’re fucking soaked,” charles spoke, pulling back to watch your face contort in pleasure; watch as you became putty in his hold. “barely touched you yet baby,” he cooed ━ you couldn’t help but whine, hips bucking against his hand as he circled your clit.
he took in every feature on your pretty face, able to live in the moment and not be rushed like last time. make you feel everything he wanted you too.
“who would’ve guessed you were such a slut,” charles mused; practically toying with you. he couldn’t help himself, not when you looked so pretty panting and whimpering in his lap.
“for you.” you whimpered, hand gripping his bicep tightly as your hips moved against his hand; yearning for more.
he grinned widely at that, rewarding your words as a finger pushed past your folds unexpectedly.
“all for me.” charles hummed in agreement, words still slightly breathless himself as his other hand moved to cup the side of your face, making avoiding his eyes impossible. “all mine.”
the statement had your stomach flipping, words you could used to. something you’d know a long time, but hearing it out loud was so refreshing.
you were his. he was yours.
“please charles,” you whined out impatiently, his toying with your cunt felt good; but you need more, your thighs a painted mess along with his hand by now.
your plea had him hardening again, words sounding so alluring coming from your lips.
“what do you want mon amour?” charles spoke through a breath, eyes gazing over you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. because you were. “tell me, i’ll give it to you,” he promised; thumb grazing your cheek; such a delicate action that didn’t correlate with his thumb teasing your clit expertly.
you whimpered again, cheeks a tint of pink as your eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but they found charles gaze once more.
“all of you,” you spoke. “wanna feel you,” you sighed; his cock was pressing against your inner thigh ━ not helping with the urge to feel him inside you.
his lips curved upwards, pleased with your answer; and unable to deny himself any longer either. you’d both been through enough torture, he wouldn’t be delaying this any longer.
“want me to fuck you yeah?” charles paraphrased for you, hand leaving your cunt to find your waist; lifting you off his lap with ease and laying you beside him.
he was hovering over you within seconds, leaving you to nod eagerly below him. your hands found the hem of your dress, tugging it up and over your head as if that would help entice him.
but he didn’t need any help; he doesn’t think he’d last another second without being inside you.
he slid inside you without another word, your gasps intertwining as your own head fell back against his pillow; eyes fluttering shut at the stretch.
he gave you a moment to adjust, his head falling into the crook of your neck; light kisses peppered on your skin, a contrast to the way he was about to fuck you.
your hands tugging on his hair told him you wanted more; thrusting into you slowly and deeply at first, your mouth fell agape at the angle it hit ━ moans beginning to fall from your lips.
“charles, fuck,” you mumbled ━ fingers moving down his back, sure to leave marks as he gradually picked up the pace.
his thrusts got quicker, but not softer; fucking you into the mattress, all you could do was whimper and moan ━ eyes rolling back at the pleasuring sensation.
“so perfect for me,” charles grunted; the way you were squeezing him was better than he remembered, keeping his focus on your own pleasure because if not, he’d probably cum within moments.
“oh my god,” you all but practically squealed when he moved your leg over his shoulder, feeling as if he was splitting you open; you bit down on your lip to try shut up the now constant sounds.
charles wasn’t having a bar of it however.
“ah, ah,” charles breathed; hand moving to tap your cheek. “wanna hear you gorgeous girl. every fucking sound,” charles told you; eyes pouring into yours which made it clear he wasn’t joking.
you nodded weakly, on cue charles delivering a harsher thrust that had you choking out a moan once more.
it didn’t take long, for you to get brought to the edge; stomach growing tight as your eyes rolled back once more. cumming without warning, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling.
a moment of weakness for charles, watching as you shook beneath him and screamed his name; squeezing him suddenly, he almost came too. he didn’t though thankfully, because his focus was still you.
you weren’t prepared for him to not relent, instead feeling his hand snake between your bodies and find your clit, eyes flying open.
“o-oh,” you gasped, the onslaught of pleasure hard to cope with as your hands gripped onto his back tightly, nails digging into his skin as he smirked down at you.
“take it baby,” charles grunted; eyebrows raising momentarily. “too much?” his question was teasing, and he couldn’t help the breathy chuckle when you shook your head; scared he’d stop. you didn’t want him to stop.
you weren’t sure you could take it, but you were going to try. you’d do anything for him when he was touching you like this.
“so good,” you moaned; tears welling in your eyes quickly from the overstimulation, body jolting with every thrust which hadn’t relented.
his stamina impressive, having not slowed down nor gotten sloppy as he pounded into you.
you were struggling to keep your eyes open now, lost in the pleasure. but charles wanted to watch you, and wanted you to watch him as you pushed you over the edge once more.
“look at me baby,” charles grunted; pinching your clit lightly which had your eyes flying open, meeting his. “gonna watch me as you cum again yeah?” charles told you, his own breaths heavier now as he struggled to not let himself revel in the feeling of you.
you nodded, again, like a broken record; all your effort focused on watching him as your face contorted in pleasure. maybe even a tear or two fell, the familiar feeling washing over you again suddenly as he delivered another harsh thrust. and another. and suddenly it was as if he found new energy somewhere.
you all but screamed his name as you came again suddenly, coming undone on his cock. he was close behind, unable to resist with the way your walls squeezed him again.
your heavy breaths filled the room as charles helped you both ride out your highs, before sliding out of you, he remained above you regardless.
he was looking at you in awe, hand pushing some of your hair away that had gotten stuck to your forehead, earning a lazy smile from you in return.
“i could get used to that,” your words broke the silence; eyes flickering to his lips which gave charles the hint to place a kiss on your lips, a delicate one unlike those shared earlier.
he’d chuckled at your words afterwards, humming in agreement as his hand ran up and down your side comfortingly.
“me too,” charles agreed with a grin; pressing yet another kiss to your lips, a longer one this time; passionate and slow. enjoying the moment. the peace of it all.
when you pulled away moments later, you practically beamed as you urged him off of you; moving to straddle him instead.
you had a lot of time to make up for.
━━━━━
a/n: oh she’s bACK BACK CHARLES FIC YAY
hope u liked, still rusty lol i don’t rlly like the smut but i did enjoy writing the angst hehe
unedited sorry i’ll get to that later like usual oOps
as always feedback is always greatly encouraged and appreciated, means the world to me so pls share ur thoughts 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
luv u all !!!!!!!
#f1 smut#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc x reader#f1 angst#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#charles leclerc fic#f1 fic#f1 one shot#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc imagine#driver!reader#charles leclerc
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Book Club
Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader
Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club
requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist
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“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.
“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.
“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.
“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.
“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.
“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.
“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.
“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.
Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.
“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.
“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.
The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.
“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).
“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.
“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.
“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.
“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.
“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.
“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.
“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.
“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.
“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.
“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.
“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.
“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.
“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.
“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.
“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.
“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.
“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.
“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.
“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.
“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.
“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.
“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.
“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.
“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.
“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.
“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.
“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.
“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.
“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.
“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.
“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.
“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lando mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.
“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.
“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.
“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.
“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.
“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.
“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.
“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#the grid x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x female driver#lance stroll#f1 drivers#f1 grid x reader#f1 grid#lance stroll x reader#lando being dramatic#lando norris#george russell#valtteri bottas#fernando alonso#oscar piastri#nico hulkenberg#kevin magnussen#carlos sainz#charles leclerc#max verstappen#checo perez#lewis hamilton
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playing cupid.
Carlos Sainz x Reader
[Warnings: Mentions of sex and some curse words. There are some inaccuracies, such as in this short story, Carlos has an apartment in Milan]
Word Count: 9.7K
You're in this situationship with Carlos Sainz—no fuss, no drama, just sex. But then your dads become friends, and Sainz Sr., with a soft spot for you, decides to introduce you to his son, whom you've been... acquainted with for a while. To make things more interesting, he's on a mission to play Cupid, all while Carlos enjoys the thrill of keeping your little secret, playing along with his dad.
this was a request!
always feel free to request and if i have some free time, I'll try to write something 🫶🏼
“Apparently, our dads met”, you say, rolling off Carlos's lap, still flushed and your breath ragged. The soft bed cushions your fall as you curl up beneath the deep blue blanket that usually adorns the foot of Carlos's bed, but this time is just part of the mess.
Carlos studies you with a faint frown, tousled hair spilling over his forehead. He looks incredibly handsome, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. If it weren’t for the late hour and your impending early morning, you would consider straddling him again. However, it’s nearly 2 a.m. and you need to be at the atelier by 9, so you just wish to sleep.
“Really?” There’s an undertone you don’t quite understand.
“What?”
"You just killed the mood.” He lays back on the bed and turns to face you. His hands seek out your shoulder, and his nimble fingers begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin, a clear indication that he’s not ready to let the night end just yet. “Mentioning my dad right after I cum inside you? Not exactly what I expect.”
“I just remembered it, and now I know you’ll get your hands off of me and let me sleep.”
“Oh, that’s not what I was expecting, as well.”
You pout, mocking him. “Poor you,” he rolls his eyes and falls dramatically against his pillow. “I’m just expecting a good night of sleep because some of us have work to do during the week and not just on weekends.” He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know that sometimes you work during the week.”
Carlos opens his mouth to retort, but he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. In an instant, he sits up, looming over you, and seizes both your wrists, pinning them against the headboard. With his other hand, he's ready to tug the blanket over your form.
"Don't you dare tickle me, Carlos Sainz. Or I swear to God—"
"What are you going to do?" Carlos interrupts, his mischievous grin returning. As you lock eyes with him, you realize there's very little you can do, and oddly enough, you're entirely fine with that. Except,
"Spit in your face."
His playful smirk remains as he leans in closer, his voice a sultry whisper. "Spit in my face, huh?” he taunts, his fingers inching closer to your sides. “Think I’m going to risk it.”
"Sainz,” you squirm under his touch, desperately trying to maintain your composure. But he’s already grinning, and his fingers are approaching your sides. “I'm warning you..."
And suddenly, it's too late. He pounces, his fingers dancing across your sides, and you burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, some of them louder than you expected them to be. Carlos knows all your ticklish spots, and he exploits them shamelessly. It’s been what…? Four months since you first slept together. By now he knows your body better than any guy ever did. And honestly, you’re not sure what to feel about that.
"Carlos, stop!" you manage to gasp between laughter, trying to wriggle free from his grip. It's a futile effort as he continues his relentless assault, determined to elicit every giggle and squeal he can from you.
Finally, he relents, his laughter joining yours as he releases your wrists. You pant for breath, your cheeks flushed from both the laughter and the earlier efforts. You take the opportunity to jump out of bed. “You’re the worst. I gotta pee.”
You disappear into the bathroom, to pee, clean yourself and try to comb your hair, and by the time you go back to the bedroom, you’re expecting him to be asleep. But you find him awake. His eyes shine brighter when you go through the door, and he watches you with a tender smile as you enter the bed and curl against him, fitting perfectly into his embrace.
The warmth of his body against you is comforting.
"I think I'll let you sleep now," he voices low in your ear, as he pulls over the comforter and covers you both.
"You better.”
Carlos's chest rises and falls rhythmically beneath your cheek as you nestle closer. You can hear the faint hum of his heartbeat, and it lulls you into a peaceful state. He smells like Bleu de Chanel and the lingering traces of your passion. With every breath, you inhale the essence of the man who has woven himself into the fabric of your life, in more ways than one.
Just as you're about to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, it hits you like lightning—the visit your mom mentioned, the whole reason you brought up his dad’s name.
You nudge Carlos gently, rousing him from his half-asleep state. "Just remembered something."
Carlos doesn’t even open his eyes. "Hmm?”
“My dad invited yours over,” you were not sure if you should be excited or nervous. Not for the visit itself, but for Carlos’ reaction to the idea of you meeting his dad.
After all, you had just been sleeping together, barely leaving your apartments, except for that one time he took you out to dinner, and that was probably because it was your birthday and perhaps Carlos would feel bad about just booty-calling you and ignoring the whole birthday thing.
“Well, that’s a nice way to introduce you to him.”
“What?”
Carlos just pressed you closer to him, like you weren’t practically glued together already. "It's okay, cariño. They’ll love you. Now sleep."
It all started at Milan Fashion Week when Carlos was representing Ferrari at an event. You were there, lurking in the shadows, taking in the magic of the fashion show. Your mentor had gotten you there, a favour you'll always be grateful for. There's a lot you can't remember about the event, about the whole night to be fair, but you remember the man awkwardly sitting in the front row. Fashion is not his thing, you thought. You kind of knew that. You kind of knew him.
He drives for Ferrari, he's handsome, he has a thick Spanish accent and hair I would pay to touch.
And that was more than enough to make you introduce yourself at the end of the show. From there, making out in a club took a little more than two hours. To his bed, just a little bit more than that.
You continued to see each other, booty-calling each other when you were feeling horny, bored, or just lonely. Your situationship was a good deal for both parties. No strings attached, which you enjoyed because you had little time and no patience to make any kind of effort to actually maintain a relationship. And Carlos, well... he was also busy as hell, so... all good. So you never went on dates, never needed to put on expectable amounts of makeup for over-the-top dresses. Except for your birthday, when he decided to take you out, and you had to make the effort. But that was your birthday.
Other than that, you would only leave your apartments to go get food at a 24-hour store or McDonald's. You remember that one time you wanted gelato and Carlos took you to his favourite place in Milan, but... other than that, it was just sex. Okay, just sex and marathons of Game of Thrones and House of The Dragon (that led to more sex) and some cooking too. You once taught him how to make your nana's lasagna and how a true Italian bruschetta is done. And a few days later, he cooked you his mom's carbonara—not a real carbonara, not at all. And, let’s be fair, he often brought you pizza from your favourite place in Milano and expensive bottles of wine.
But… “That’s a nice way to introduce you to him”?
You were not expecting that at all.
The idea lingered in your mind all night, and you woke up thinking about it too. You left his apartment while Carlos was still in the shower, just shouting goodbyes while you gathered your stuff and ran to the atelier. He would be out of town for a couple of weeks, away at some races, and you would have time to figure out how your parents met and when said visit was going to happen. All good.
Turns out you didn't have as much time as you thought.
That afternoon, your mom calls you, excitedly recounting their amazing trip to Canada and how much fun your dad had at the race. So, that was where they met. She also shares her plans about taking your brothers to Monza in a couple of months. You nod absentmindedly, your attention more focused on the magazine in front of you than on her words. It's often like this.
Your dad travels for work and actually works. He's a sports manager, deeply passionate about football and motorsports, especially Formula 1. Lately, he's been leaning more towards the latter, especially since he's contemplating retirement. On the other hand, your mom, an ex-model who married a well-off man, has chosen to focus on being a wife and a mother, a role she fulfils with dedication. So, when they’re back home, dad has work to do, contacts to keep and your mom has… well, more than enough time to tell you everything.
"And your dad and Sainz met at the golf course, you know?" your mom continues, her voice full of admiration. "A charming young man. He was golfing with his dad too. Your father had to tell them you refused to join him on the greens."
"In that, he's absolutely right."
"So, they kept talking. They even played together, I think. And he mentioned we were going to the race, and Sainz suggested he could call, and he'd arrange a garage tour. We met him at the paddock, but we ended up not getting the tour because there were already enough guests in there, but… Isn't he just amazing? And so incredibly handsome, piccina. So handsome."
You cringe inwardly at your mom's thirst for Carlos, unable to shake the image of her ogling your... friend. But you hum in response, unable to voice your discomfort because the next moment, she's raving about a dress she bought for you and the amazing designer she met in New York just before returning to Milan, and that topic steals all attention.
But just before she’s about to hang out, you remember why she called you in the first place.
“Mom, about the visit you mentioned? The dinner?” you interject and she chuckles; you can almost envision her rubbing her temples.
"Oh, silly me. I actually called you to discuss that," she sighs. "He's coming to visit us this weekend! You have to come home and meet him; he's really looking forward to getting to know you."
"Doesn't he race this weekend?"
"The young—Since when do you care about F1?"
"I don't. I just—” You quickly think of something, but you’re not quite sure if you want to tell your mother that you’ve been fucking Sainz. The younger one. Of course. “I saw something on Twitter."
"Oh, I see. Well,” she clicks her tongue. “It's his dad who's coming. Weren’t you listening? And his mom. We invited them both. Your dad wants to take him to the club and network a bit and you know… I’m always down for making friends and Reyes seems like a lovely woman. She wasn’t there, but I’ve heard about her around. Even her name is super elegant. Isn’t it?” Once again, you hum, frowning, thinking about the movie where you just found yourself in. “So, please, come home.”
“Noted. So, this weekend?”
“Yes. Do you need Dad to pick you up tomorrow after work?”
You move in your seat. “I’m just so busy with work right now, mom. The new collection and—” She cleans her throat and you just nod to the empty room. “Okay. Yes, please, tell Dad to pick me up.”
Of course, the second you hang up you text Carlos. He’s probably busy, it’s Thursday so he’s doing interviews or something, and, as you expected, he doesn’t reply to your text right away. Despite everything, he doesn’t take too long.
Not surprisingly, he’s very nonchalant about it all.
hot wheels guy: just tell them we know each other, no big deal
hot wheels guy: and we’ll tell them more when i’m back
But, yeah… You can’t help but frown looking at the phone. He’s golfed with your dad, met your mom, met again with your dad and he’s not even feeling weird about it all?
you: hm? no?
hot wheels guy: why not?
you: you went golfing with my dad!!!
hot wheels guy: and?
hot wheels guy: how would i guess he was your dad?
you: how many Y/LN do you think there are in milan?
you: he told you he’s from milan!! there are not a lot of us in here
hot wheels guy: do you have any idea of how many people i meet every weekend?
you: 🙄
hot wheels guy: stop being a brat
you: 🙄
hot wheels guy: i don’t see a problem in golfing with your dad
hot wheels guy: is that supposed to be weird?
you: YES !!!!
hot wheels guy: stop being dramatic
hot wheels guy: if they say anything, tell them you know me
hot wheels guy: if they don’t, don’t
you: they will
hot wheels guy: so you know what to do
Friday’s dinner went exceptionally well, with conversations flowing effortlessly between food and wine, despite the inevitable sports-centric discussions that seemed to dominate the evening. Your brothers were beyond ecstatic to have Carlos Sr. as a guest in their home. They'd had their fair share of famous athletes sitting at the family table, but never had they been as excited as they were when Carlos Sr. entered the house. As a result, you found yourself somewhat on the sidelines, listening more than speaking throughout the meal.
And you were grateful for that.
The same didn’t happen on Saturday. Your dad took the morning to showcase some of your work and discuss your future prospects in the fashion industry with both Carlos and Reyes. In what you think was a gesture of gratefulness, Reyes displayed a lot of interest in your little atelier, located by the pool, in what used to be a shed for the gardener. So, you spent the morning around there, talking with them about fashion and business, and then joined them for lunch in one of your dad’s favourite restaurants.
Let's be fair, you have an extraordinary way with words and a charm that makes your mother proud. It was easy for you. By the time dinner came, you were already adored by the Sainzes. Without making an effort, you found yourself talking about art and travel, and letting Sainz Sr. explain to you the magic and the challenges of Dakar.
However, it isn’t until the next morning that you find yourself alone with him.
You both sat down for breakfast on the patio, and he’s now engrossed in reading the newspaper, while you’re drinking your cappuccino and doing your best to ignore the fact that the man sitting in front of you is, in essence, your… fuckbuddy’s dad.
There’s the usual “good morning” and the “hope you got some rest”, to which the guest always has some lovely comment to say about the bed, or the room, or the house in general. It’s an amazing guest house, you have to admit. And Sainz is no expectation. You exchange a couple of pleasantries and he’s back at reading the news, so you let your guard down.
Then, unexpectedly, Carlos Sr. turns his attention from the newspaper and directs it squarely at you. Grey eyebrows lifting at the same pace his eyes fill with a weird glint.
“I would love to introduce you to my son,” he says, and a faint frown tugs at your lips as words form in your throat, only to wither away unspoken. "I'm not implying anything," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, "just that I believe the two of you would get along well."
You respond hesitantly, "Oh, I know him."
"I know you know him," he laughs, and you realise that something might have gotten lost in translation because when he talks again he says, "But what I mean is that you should meet. I'll make sure to introduce you two next time we're all in town."
And well, you feel too embarrassed to correct him, so you just smile and mumble an “I can’t wait. Excuse me”, before getting up from the table and sprinting up to your room.
you: great news. your dad wants to introduce us
you: what do i do?
He takes a couple of hours to text back.
hot wheels guy: why didn’t you tell him you know me already?
you: i tried to!
The next time you’re all in town happens one week and a half from there, when Carlos is finally back in Italy after a few races and a couple of days in Madrid. And, because the universe is a pain in the ass, you’re swarmed with work to the point you’ve been falling asleep right after dinner, even before the time Carlos usually rings you up.
It’s a terrible schedule.
You’ve been waking up at 5 am to be by the seamstress at 7, to have some work ready to show at 9 am, between your mentor’s arrival at the atelier and the time he leaves for some meeting or brunch with models somewhere in Milan. Somehow, during that interval, he has time to break your work to pieces, destroying it (and destroying you in the process) with criticism. Critique leaves you on the verge of tears, and by the end of the day, you’re a mess—stressed, irritable and utterly exhausted. Not to mention the ever-present sexual frustration, with vivid dreams of a certain Spaniard leaving you hot and bothered in your sleep.
The perfect recipe for a restless night.
Apparently, Carlos got to Milan on Wednesday, because that night you woke up at midnight on your couch, a half-empty glass of wine by your side, your unfinished sketches scattered before you and three missed calls from Carlos, accompanied by a series of texts. Thursday, the same happened. The texts were nothing too dramatic, just variations of “u up?”, “cmon its 10 pm”, and “you can’t be asleep”.
On both days, in your half-sleep haze, you manage to reply as you shuffle your way to your bedroom something similar to “sory, talktomorrw”.
And then Friday arrives, and your calendar pings with the reminder that in one hour your dad will be picking you up for dinner. You’re sitting on your vanity and already dreading the day your dad decided to go to Montreal.
You’re not feeling it.
Firstly, you have to slather on a ton of make-up just to feel decent. Your dark circles are as pronounced as ever, you’re skin is pale and your acne is acting up, probably all due to the lack of sun, sleep, rest of any food that isn’t reheated pizza or store-bought noodles.
So, yes, the prospect of dinner and being introduced as Carlos’ whatever doesn’t exactly lift your spirits.
The anticipation gawns at you as you finish getting ready. You can’t shake the feeling of unease, a nagging doubt that you’re about to step into a situation that might be more than you signed up for. Carlos’ dad seems nice enough, and his mom absolutely adores you, but this is different, especially because his dad is expecting to introduce you and well… you’re way past that.
As you stare at your reflection, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't just about you. Your brothers are looking forward to meeting Carlos, and your dad seems genuinely excited about his friendship with his dad. So, you summon a smile, albeit a forced one, and decide to make the most of this evening, even if you're not entirely sure what to expect.
Yeah. Scratch that. The dinner is about you.
As you approach the restaurant, a different sense of anticipation washes over you. It feels like a scene from a movie where you're about to meet an arranged husband. The Sainz family stands by the door, engaged in lively conversation. Reyes waves at you when she sees you making your way to them.
Your eyes naturally gravitate toward Carlos. Firstly, because you kind of miss him. It’s been a while since you last saw him and there’s no point in looking for comfort somewhere else, so you are, let's say… slightly needy. And secondly, because he’s clad in a baby blue button-up and pristine white pants. A vision. You're only human, after all, with eyes and perhaps a few too many hormones.
In summary: You’re fucked. Dinner will be fun.
From your back and close to your ear, a whisper arises. “Be nice,” your mom says. As you turn to her, her lips are curling into a wide smile. “Carlos! Reyes! Such a delight to see you both again. And, Carlos,” she turns to the younger one, “it’s an absolute pleasure to finally see you in a more personal environment.”
You take a deep breath.
Your brothers, bursting with energy, practically race each other to get to Carlos, almost taking you down in the process. He skillfully engages them in conversation, a grin playing on his lips, until your mom intervenes.
"Now, now, boys. You'll have plenty of time to chat," she chuckles. Your mom swiftly moves your overeager brothers and offers an apologetic smile to Carlos. "Apologies, they're just excited.”
“No problem,” he says, in Italian, something he doesn’t do often when he’s alone with you. He claims he still needs to learn dirty talk in Italian. You love to teach him by whispering it into his ear. More than that, you love watching his face as he slowly grasps their meaning.
Your dad, then, approaches him for a way-too-manly handshake, but a warm smile reigns on his lips. “Carlos, great to see you again.”
“Thank you, sir. Likewise.”
In the meantime, you went to Reyes. She graced you with a compliment, a kiss on the cheek and the promise to visit your atelier in the near future. Then, it’s time for her husband, and you’re already wearing your best smile because that man is beaming as he’s watching you.
“My dear,” after two kisses on the cheeks, he slightly turns to Carlos. “So nice to see you again. Son,” he calls, and Carlos turns to you, his smile radiant, his eyes sparkling under the warm, ambient lights of the restaurant. “Let me introduce you to Y/N.”
"You're even more beautiful than my mom described," he remarks, his words catching you off guard. You manage to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, opting instead for a faint smile. “My dad has shared so much about you. Couldn’t wait to meet you.”
A surge of mixed emotions washes over you. On one hand, there's a twinge of frustration that he didn't tell his family about your connection, correcting your mistake and saving you from embarrassment. Yet, as his adoring gaze meets yours, it's hard not to be swept away by his warm compliments.
“Oh,” you murmur, feeling something shift inside you. Your own words surprise you, leaving you momentarily at a loss. "Thank you. Likewise."
Unknown to you, you echo almost exactly what Carlos had just said to your dad. The similarity draws a chuckle from Senior, who seems to find the exchange quite entertaining. Carlos chuckles as well and motions to the restaurant with his head.
“Should we?”
As the evening progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Carlos when you think no one is looking. You catch his eye occasionally, and he responds with subtle winks and sly smirks that send shivers down your spine. It's almost like a secret language only the two of you understand. He’s sitting in front of you, of course.
“Piccina,” your mom calls. “Why don’t you tell Carlos about your job?”
With a smile, you turned to face Carlos. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and you have to take a second before answering. He’s no stranger to your job. Not at all. Sometimes he even lands a helping hand, providing some foot massages while you’re working through tight deadlines and he doesn’t take “no” for an answer when he asks if he can come over.
So you simply say, “I’m a fashion designer.”
“Oh,” it’s the polite oh, not the filled-with-curiosity one. You know he’s about to say something stupid when his tongue peeks through his lips and the corner of his lips starts raising, moulding his mouth in a smirk. “So you just play dress-up for a living?”
Laughter bubbled up from one of your brothers, earning him a scolding look from your mom. They’re just nine, which makes them fifteen years younger than you. Fondly referred to as "an accident" by your parents, they were the light of your life, even if they were quite the whirlwind.
“And you, Carlos, you just play with cars on the weekends?” Carlos's eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked down, a chuckle escaping him. Sr. Carlos wore a pleased smile, and a delightful warmth settled in your belly.
"Some might find it hard to believe, but we do manage to squeeze in some actual work during the week," Carlos chimed in, earning a laugh from you. "Have you ever been to a race?”
“No, and I don’t intend to.”
"The boys are the true racing enthusiasts,” your dad chimes in. “The girls prefer to stay at home, or walk around when we travel for a Grand Prix.”
Turning to you, Carlos's eyes danced with mischief. You remembered a previous conversation where he'd tried to persuade you to attend the Italian Grand Prix, just a few weeks away. Wanting to stop him, because he’s so predictable that you just know what he’s about to say, you try to change the subject.
“Talking about races, are you playing on doing Dakar again next year, Signore?”
Carlos dismisses your question right away. "I think your perspective might change once you experience a Grand Prix firsthand.”
And this time, Carlos Sr. joins him. "Why not extend an invitation for them to visit the garage? I'm sure the kids will love the opportunity. And, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find it all exciting. You seem like a curious girl.”
Carlos beamed. "Consider this an invitation. I can't wait to have you all there.”
Your brothers practically have a collective stroke, their young minds struggling to process the idea of visiting Carlos in the garage. As for your dad, despite his time in the paddock, had never had the chance to visit the Ferrari garage, so, despite keeping his composure, you know how much it means to him—he’s undeniably the most fervent tifoso you'd ever known.
With a grateful smile, you spoke up. "That's incredibly kind of you. Thank you.”
Carlos leans comfortably against his Alfa Romeo parked in easy reach of your dad’s Audi. Your brothers are sleeping in the back seat, while your parents conclude their chat. They’re getting along well, which is weird but comforting to some degree.
You shoot Carlos a serious glance. “How much longer are you going to keep up with this little thing you started?”
“Me? May I remind you that you were the one who didn’t tell him we met?” You roll your eyes at his words and grab the door knob. “Wait. Don’t you see he’s trying to set us up?”
“And?”
“Play along. Let him have it.”
There's a moment of silent understanding, the shared secret between you adding an extra layer of intimacy. Despite it all, you crack a smile.
“You’re so childish.” You say. “You’ll be the one who’s gonna tell him.”
“I’ll tackle that when we get there,” Carlos assures. And slowly, a playful glint shines in his eyes. “Should I swing by your place on my way home?”
“No way. I have work tomorrow, a lot of work to do and I can’t afford to be tired to do it.”
He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You can stay at mine, then. And I could drive you to work. It’ll give you an extra thirty minutes of sleep.”
You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You don’t even know where I work.”
“Of course, I do,” he assures.
That’s new. “Well,” you take a deep breath and discreetly hand him over your apartment keys. “I won’t ring the bell because the old lady on my floor will listen and I think she’s spying on me. I’ll call when I’m there.”
As you're about to bid him goodnight, your dad's voice calls out from a distance, catching Carlos's attention. He waves warmly and flashes a friendly smile, which Carlos mimics.
“Golf on Sunday?” your dad asks.
Carlos's eyes light up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Can't wait!”
You can't help but interject, “Golfing with my dad, again? What the heck are you doing?”
Carlos grins. “Finding a golfing partner, since someone here,” he gestures playfully at you, “refuses to join me. And unfortunately, my dad isn't always around in Italy to tag along.”
You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Alright, Sainz. Nice to meet you. See you soon.”
He drives you to work and to your surprise, he actually knows where that is. How? You can’t tell. Apparently, he also remembers that you bring breakfast for your mentor on Saturdays because just before he drops you off, he offers to join you for a few minutes, just to pick up breakfast with you.
“Since you’ve got no time to eat with me, I’ll just tag along and annoy you for ten minutes more.”
You let him enter the coffee shop with you and he hovers on your back while you order two moccas and two brownies to go with it. Your mentor is not picky, and this Saturday breakfast tradition only started because you wanted to thank him for granting you a few hours from his weekend to help you with your designs. Technically, it’s not work, but it’s just as demanding.
You can feel Carlos’ breath against your hair, and the faint smell of his cologne, still hanging in his shirt from the previous night. This morning, the buttons are undone, and the sleeves are folded up. His hair is tousled and his beard is imperfect. Yet he’s the most handsome man around.
“First time picking up breakfast together,” he says as you’re walking towards the door. “Is this the equivalent to marriage in your dictionary?”
“Don’t make me regret all the past decisions I’ve made.”
“Hm,” he hums, tilting his head. “What could I possibly make you regret?”
“Simply the fact of accepting to be introduced to you,” You let an exaggerated sigh leave your lips. “I’m living the nightmare all over again.”
Just before leaving a kiss on your cheek, he whispers. “Didn’t sound like a nightmare when I made you come thrice last night, baby. But go off.” He then kisses you on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
Carlos is too busy that night, and your Sunday is reserved for a family gathering. By Monday, you're back to your routine of nodding off right after dinner, so by the time Tuesday arrives, you’re already missing him. Not him—just his body in your bed, the sensation of his thick lips sliding down your navel and the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, wrapped up in that beautiful deep Spanish accent of his. You know he’s driving next weekend, so you spend all Wednesday staring at your phone, trying to summon a text from him.
When it finally pings, around 5 pm, it’s from your dad.
papà: heading to squash in an hour. up for a game?
papà: no use in saying no
papà: you already missed two weeks
you: 🙄🙄🙄
you: i’ll meet you there!
You were the one who introduced your dad to squash, and gradually, it evolved into a bonding activity for both of you. Words don't flow easily with him, and you’re not great at demonstrating feelings so it’s difficult to connect with your dad. On top of that, you moved out really early. Slowly squash became a great way to connect and have quality time with him, release some steam, and stay in shape.
“I’m surprised. You never mentioned that you play squash,” a voice chimes in from behind, and you can't help but let out a sigh when you turn around.
It's Carlos, donned in a stupidly tight turquoise shirt that perfectly hugs and draws the contour of his chest, and sporting the briefest shorts you've ever seen him wear. He smiles. He knows he looks hot.
“How could I?” You reply, trying to not showcase how weak your knees just turned. “We only met like… five days ago.”
Carlos chuckles. “You’re funny. Did I tell you that yet?”
“Hmmm. You haven’t had the chance, yet.”
Sainz Sr. approaches you both, moving at a leisurely pace, absorbed in his phone. When he looks up, his frown disappears and an adoring smile takes his lips. His hand rests on his son’s shoulder as he remarks, “Didn’t I tell you today would be a perfect day for a match?”
Carlos turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "You did. What a coincidence.”
"Indeed," you chime in. "May I challenge you, sir? My dad’s still on a call and I have no partner."
“Oh, Carlos can join you,” he suggests with a nod in Carlos’ direction. “I’ll wait for your dad. We have some matters to discuss. Carry on, you two.”
Of. Course.
As the two of you step onto the squash court, the competitive glint in Carlos' eyes is hard to miss. And the tension in the air is palpable, you feel it in your bones. But you take a deep breath and push it aside, focusing on the game ahead.
"Why the sudden cold shoulder?" Carlos inquires as you prepare to start.
You glance at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm getting radio silence from you—no calls, no texts. You're not picking up my calls, either. What’s going on?"
You roll your neck, trying to ease the tension. Yesterday you just collapsed onto your couch, once again. You were living in survival mode. And wouldn’t be there playing if it wasn't a long-standing tradition with your dad.
"Work's been keeping me busy," you shrug.
It's not entirely a lie. But it’s not totally true either.
Let’s see—you've been involved in this situationship for almost five months now, seeing each other sporadically, sometimes even daily, if Carlos is in Milan. Yet, it's all so casual. You can recall the day he mentioned introducing you to his parents, of course. As a matter of fact, that talk has been looping in your mind for the last few days, but… it was a joke. Right? Sure it was. Why would he want his parents to meet his... whatever?
You could have texted him earlier. You would have texted him a few weeks ago, before all this. You can’t quite figure out why you’re panicking and why you’re behaving like a rom-com character, but you are.
"Come on, that excuse won't stick with me."
“Too bad. Can we play?" You grip the racket, twirling it in your hands. You look back, at his dad sitting on the benches, watching you from afar. “Please?”
He lets out a sigh and nods. Finally, you think.
"Is this a date?" he asks, grabbing a ball from his shorts and meeting your gaze.
"No." You're firm, and once again, he frowns. "It's not. For one, you didn't invite me. We just happened to both be here. It's coincidental.” He laughs here, slightly tilting his head back. You both know it is not coincidental. “And two, that's not what we're doing."
He cracks a smile, almost teasing. "So, what are we not doing?"
"The dating thing. We're not dating."
"Aren't we?" He smirks, his tongue peeking out, licking his lips.
You shake your head. "Nope."
"Alright, cool. Just wanted to be clear on that," Carlos replies with a nonchalant shrug, though you detect a glimmer of amusement in his voice. He’s as annoying as he’s pretty.
The first serve is swift and precise. The sound of the ball hitting the wall reverberates through the court. You dive into the game, putting your all into each movement. It's a dance of strategy and agility. You’re exhausted, but you put on a fight, using banter as your weapon. On the outside, your parents are watching, and you can’t help but notice Sainz Sr. is thoroughly enjoying this.
Sweat starts to bead on your foreheads, but neither of you shows any sign of slowing down. He wants to win and well… you want to make him lose. As you play, you steal glances at Carlos, his concentration evident in the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes, in the curse words he whispers under his breath, ones that frustration draws from him. You’ve heard them before. Oh, God, you’ve heard so much worse. But it all combined? This is a side of him you haven't seen before, and it's exhilarating.
After a particularly intense rally, Carlos manages to secure a point with a deftly placed shot. He smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "You're not making this easy," he remarks.
You grin, determined. "Wouldn't want to go easy on you, now, would I?"
The court echoes with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the thud of the ball hitting the walls. Time seems to blur as you lose yourself in the rhythm of the game. He makes you laugh and shout insults in his direction, to which he laughs.
Finally, after a hard-fought match, Carlos clinches the victory. It's a close call, and you’re about to pass out. It’s a shitty mixture of disappointment and pride. Leaning against the wall of the court, you try toth catch your breath.
"You're pretty good at this," Carlos admits, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.
"Yeah, well, I have to stay in shape to keep up with you," you quip.
He chuckles, "Am I that demanding?"
"Am I that demanding?" You repeat, forcing a Spanish accent and a deep voice. He chuckles and stands up straight. "Did your dad tell you to come here today?"
"Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. Like I told you he would."
You can't help but chuckle at Carlos's words. "Well, he’s certainly enjoying playing cupid. But hey, fun game.”
Carlos nods a genuine smile on his face. "Yeah, it was. Finally got to see you outside the flat. It's quite weird to see you with clothes at this point."
"Oh, God, you're such a prick."
He laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Can I drop by later today?"
You glance toward your parents, who are engaged in a lively conversation, and then back at Carlos.
"No. Early morning tomorrow. And I still have work to finish today.” You’re not lying to him, you’re lying to yourself. Even when he’s looking at you with puppy eyes, you don’t go back with your words. Instead, you stand up straight and fix your hair. “Should I expect to coincidently meet you somewhere else in the next few days?"
You know the answer to that question. You know he’s going to be away for two weekends. And you kinda know he knows you know, because when he answers, there’s the faintest smile on his lips.
"I'll be off for two weeks. Hungary and Belgium.”
"Good luck at those, then.”
“Really appreciate it.”
Yeah, so…. That night, Carlos texted you. Not a casual “u up?”, but a “it was so fucking unfair to see you in that skirt and not being able to fuck you in it” and naturally you couldn’t help but to let out an exasperated groan and promptly respond with a “come over.” So, twenty minutes later you were being screwed against your kitchen counter.
And now you’re on the couch, his head buried between your legs, eating you up like a starved man. Yes. You need to be fit to keep up with this man’s stamina. He’s that demanding. But you can’t complain.
It’s been like this. A lot of pleasure. And then a lot of peace of mind.
Afterwards, he reclines on the chaise lounge, scrolling through TV channels, looking for something remotely bearable. You go get your sketch notebook and use his torso as a pillow. He watches tv and you work, until sleep creeps over you and you fall asleep in his arms.
Five months of this. You can’t put a label on it, but you can’t imagine living without it.
Carlos only wakes you up to take you to bed, and that night he sleeps over, sprawled across your bed like a starfish, leaving you clinging to him to not fall over. In the morning, you make out in bed, lazy and sleepy. He fucks you in the shower, and then he’s off again. He texts you when he's at the airport, and once more when he lands in whichever country he's racing in. Meanwhile, you carry on with your everyday life—a bit more mundane than being fuckbuddies with a Scuderia Ferrari driver but just as busy.
As it became regular, you exchange a few texts while he's away. It's become a ritual—complimenting him on how handsome he looks after his sessions, and him requesting a selfie so he can return the favour. He sends you snapshots of random things that made him think of you, and if truth be told, you do the same. You share selfies as you stroll by the Ferrari store in Milan and send him memes (which sometimes require a brief explanation). Without fail, he sends you a good morning and a good night, and whenever you're awake, you make sure to reply.
And life happens for those two weeks.
It’s boring. It’s dull. It’s ordinary.
And then on a Monday evening your bell rings and you can’t help but leave your apartment and wait for him on the landing, right in front of the elevator, not caring if your neighbour is watching through the peephole.
“Missed me?” he quips, already unburdening himself of his backpack as he steps out of the elevator. Sunglasses perched atop his head, skin kissed by the sun, eyes wide like the moon. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.
“Never,” you jest, but it's a flimsy façade, quickly shattered as you pull him close, urgency coursing through you.
Damn, you've missed him. You crave him.
And he craves you too. He's straightforward in showing it.
After you both shower, you settle on the couch. You ask him about why he had two races that weekend and he teases you because you finally demonstrate an interest in F1, and only then, after you’re insulting him and threatening to not go to Monza, he actually explains to you how a sprint weekend works, but he’s being so nerdy and so adorable and his eyes are sparkling so much that you just get back in his lap and ride him again, but this time slower, and more passionate, like you’re feeling something materialise inside you. And you come on his lap, and he kisses you slowly, and you tell him you actually missed him.
For dinner, you agree on sushi and night falls while you’re watching The Office for the only-God knows-how-many time, curled up in each other and drinking wine.
Apparently, there’s a mandatory period of vacations in F1 and unfortunately, it doesn’t match your own. So, Carlos is away with friends and family, in boats and islands in the Mediterranean, and you’re torn between Roma, Venice and Milan, assisting in campaign photoshoots.
Your days are long, exhausting and you’re tired and wishing you could be suntanning somewhere in Greece, but you’re sitting on a train, pushing small talk with your colleagues so you won’t fall asleep and drool over yourself.
Until a notification pops up on your phone, and you drop everything you’re saying because there’s a small chance that is a photo from Carlos, or some text, or just a reminder of his existence. You mentally slap yourself. When did you get that dependent?
But it’s just an email. And it’s from your mom.
You frown.
She doesn’t usually use email. Nor is interested in art galleries in Madrid.
You read through the details and you notice something interesting. The invitation has been forwarded from none other than Carlos Sainz Sr. And it makes you laugh. You take a screenshot that you send to Carlos.
you: so, your dad's moonlighting as an art promoter now? did you fire him?
hot wheels guy: seems like it. he said he was going to invite you
hot wheels guy: and no, i didn’t fire him primarily because he doesn’t work for me
you: well it actually does sound interesting
hot wheels guy: so you’re coming?
you: perhaps
hot wheels guy: it’s a good chance for you to meet my sisters
you: don’t you have like a dog for me to meet, too?
hot wheels guy: two, piñon and oil
hot wheels guy: oli is a really jealous girl. i doubt she will like you
you: looking forward to meet them. and your sisters too, of course
hot wheels guy: and about me?
you: i already met you twice. don’t need another introdution
One week later, you’re in Madrid. Sainz Sr. arrives home while you’re talking with Reyes in the kitchen, while she cooks gazpacho for lunch. Oli is in your lap, licking your cheek as your fingers get lost in the small white waves of her fur.
“Hope you get here easily. Did you take an Uber?” Sainz says right after gracing you with a small hug and two polite kisses on the cheeks. Before paying, he also leaves a pat on Oli’s head.
“Carlos picked me up at the airport, actually.”
A pleased smile creeps across Sainz Sr.'s face, like a child in a candy shop. He glances over at Carlos, who's lounging on the couch, a few meters from you.
“She’s a guest.” He points out. You didn’t even realise he was listening to your conversation. You wonder if he was listening to what you and Reyes were saying before. “I wouldn’t have let her take an Uber.”
“You’re getting along well,” the dad points out. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
Between the art and the hushed corridors of the gallery, you often find yourselves alone. A stolen kiss in the quiet garden, where the fragrance of blooming flowers mingles with the electric charge between you. And then another, amidst the art, when the room empties and you’re left in the silence of creativity, where the only beauty that matters is reflected in the depths of his eyes.
He holds your hand and listens to your explanations about art and strokes and colour theory. And he calls you a nerd. Of course, he does. And you laugh and look at each other, and kiss again, not caring if there’s someone around.
When you come back home, his sisters and parents are still in the living room, so you sit with them, still wearing your cocktail dress and Carlos still looking gorgeous in his tuxedo. You picked up churros on your way home, so you’re just basking in the serenity and the domesticity of it all. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter weaving through the air. You share stories, revealing snippets of your lives to his family, like they’re slowly becoming yours.
Ana. Blanca. Oli. Reyes. Carlos. And your Carlos, who looks at you with a warmth in his eyes that is capable of melting every cell of your body.
You can get used to this.
You only spend one night in Madrid. You sleep over at the Sainz’s—Reyes didn’t let you consider a hotel, so she prepared one of the guest rooms in advance. Surprisingly, it’s not the first time you and Carlos sleep under the same roof without having sex, but it’s the first time you do so in separate beds. And you feel restless. You lay in bed, your gaze fixed on the wall as if by sheer will, it will become transparent and grant you a view of him sleeping—the contours of his face softened in serenity, his lashes grazing his cheekbones.
According to Google, Autodromo Nazionale Monza is exactly 39 minutes away from your flat by car. Which isn’t a lot.
You’re not sure what to wear, or what’s exactly going to happen.
It’s Friday. It’s his birthday. He looks gorgeous in the photos that everyone is posting. You just need to get to the track, meet your parents and take your family to the garage. It’s as simple as that.
But you haven’t seen Carlos for more than a week, and the idea of finally seeing him is consuming you.
So you dump your worries in your wardrobe. You search for the few Ferrari pieces you have in your closet and you put out an outfit, and make-up and pretend you’re just going to an event you know nothing about. Because that’s almost the case.
Between the small crowd and the electric atmosphere and the midst of the symphony of roaring engines, you spot your parents and your brothers—their eyes wide with wonder. They’re donning Ferrari shirts and hats, each one with a different number on their clothes.
This blend of family and racing feels strangely comforting.
There’s a guy waiting for you by the entrance, with your passes. You follow him. He asks about the ride to the circuit, if it's your first time, and you can actually relieve some of the anticipation with that small talk. But you’re taking so long.
The corridor leading to the garages seems to stretch endlessly, each step an eternity.
"He's in the garage, preparing for the session. You'll have to be quick," the man informs you, but his words are mere background noise. All that matters is Carlos, and he's waiting. That's all you need.
Stepping into the garage, the noise amplifies. It's a chaotic dance of technicians and engineers, each absorbed in their tasks. You scan the frenetic scene, searching for him, but his absence is louder than the noise.
“Carlos must be arriving. Boys,” he drops to your brothers. “Want to see the car up close?”
Of course, they say yes, and they follow the man. Your dad tags along and your mother? Well, she’s apparently very interested in the sport, as well.
The first Sainz you see is Carlos’ cousin, to whom you’ve been not introduced yet, but who quickly recognizes you. You introduce yourself, and he chuckles and you say you’re “Carlos’ friend”. And then Sainz Sr. appears, with Carlos right beside him, talking to a tall skinny guy.
And God. He’s a vision in that damned racing suit.
Time seems to slow as he approaches, and when he turns to you, his eyes light up with a radiant smile. The world fades away.
“Happy birthday,” is all that occurs to you.
And a “thank you for being here,” is all that he can say before being dragged away to the screens.
This time it isn’t Reyes or Sainz Sr., but Carlos who invites your family for dinner. It's an offer you simply can't refuse, and even though your brothers are practically nodding off from fatigue, the moment they step inside the Hotel de la Ville, and notice where they are, exhaustion seems to magically dissipate.
The entire day was amazing, but you’ve barely had a chance to be near Carlos. So, as he finally takes his seat across from you, the desire to kiss him simmers just beneath your skin, burning you whole. He's clad in his signature red shirt, his unruly hair falling playfully over his forehead. And he’s wearing white jeans, which makes the colour of his tanned skin intensify.
Caught in the act of admiring him, you see him move his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and swiftly adjust your position in the chair, refocusing on your dads’ intense discussion about the latest football market moves.
“Piccina,” your mother chimes in. “You never told me about the Madrid trip. The gallery. Was it nice?”
You glance at your mother and then at the whole table. Carlos has that playful twinkle in his eyes, clearly anticipating to hear you stutter as you try to talk about the exhibition. Well, you did pay attention to the art, of course, but what remains in your mind is the way Carlos’ eyes always managed to drift to you, no matter which room you were in.
“It was beautiful, Mom,” you reply, offering her a warm smile. “I’ve already told Carlos how grateful I am for the invite.” At the head of the table, Sainz Sr. smiles at you, with a simple yet approving nod. “The other Carlos tagged along with me. He got to learn a lot about art. Right, junior?”
Carlos leans to you, propping his elbows on the table, a trace of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"I have to admit, you managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting."
Thankfully, Sainz Sr.'s hearty laughter momentarily steals everyone's attention, giving you a chance to regain your composure. Your cheeks are warm, and from the feeling of them, you know they’re red. You managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting. And he smiles, because he knows you badly you’re falling.
"Well, that's impressive,” your dad chimes.
And you're not sure if he's complimenting Carlos's smooth line or your ability to be a guide. So you ignore him and try to play it cool.
“So,” your mom continues, her hand resting on your arm, her curiosity fully piqued. "You two spent a good time together in Madrid?"
You share a subtle glance with Carlos before nodding. "Yes, we did. It was a great exhibition."
A brief hush falls over the table and you can’t help but feel like you’re under a microscope and everyone can see through you. Carlos’ gaze, steady and unwavering, is locked onto you, and you feel yourself softening, captured in his attention.
“Well,” Sainz Sr., who's been quietly observing, interjects with a warm smile. "It seems like you two have been getting along quite well."
Carlos chuckles and looks down, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his glass. You both exchange a quick look, a silent understanding passing between you.
It’s time.
"Actually," you start, "we've been getting along really, really well."
Reyes leans in. "Oh? Do tell."
“We’ve been…” You hesitate, glancing at Carlos for support.
He meets your gaze. “Dating,” he completes your sentence with a confident smile. “We’ve been dating for a while now. Six, seven-ish months?”
Sainz Sr.’s eyes light up, and then he furrows his brows, clearly processing the information. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch the gears turning in his mind.
“That’s before—way before I… introduced you.”
“In my defence,” you chime in. “I did try to tell you we’ve already met before. Blame your son. He’s the one who decided to play with you for so long.”
“Well, this is… wonderful news.” Sainz Sr. beams. You steak a glance at Carlos, knowing he’s definitely going to tease you about how genuinely pleased you looked after revealing the truth. “So, seven months, eh? Okay. When’s the wedding? And when do I get Carlos the 3rd?”
I had so much fun writing this one!!! I used every little break at work to write this. It's a bit different than what I usually write, so all feedback is appreciated.
Thank you for the request! 🫶
#Carlos Sainz#Carlos Sainz Jr#Carlos Sainz x Reader#Carlos Sainz x You#Carlos Sainz Smut#Carlos Sainz Fanfic#Carlos Sainz Imagine#Formula 1 x Reader#Formula 1 x You#F1 x Reader#F1 x You#F1 Imagine#F1 One Shot#Driver x Reader#F1 Driver x Reader#Driver x You#F1 Driver x You#F1 Fanfic#FanF1ction
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DRIVING ME MAD
Paring: Charles Leclerc x Driver!reader
Genre: smau-social media, fluff, chaotic?
Warning(s): use of Yn, language, translated French.
Synopsis: Yn is a driver for redbull and has been dating her on track rival for a few years, she always posts compromising/entertaining photos of Charles on her instagram.
Ynforeal
Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, lilymhe and 789,765 others
Ynforeal Me watching Charles deep throat my ice cream before giving it to me acting like nothing happened😐
Tagged: charles_leclerc
Maxverstappen1 He is always throating ice cream 🙄
charles_leclerc I did not ‘deep throat’ your ice cream
Ynforeal I literally saw you and have photographic proof.
Charles_leclerc😒
Ynforeal You know what to do…
arthur_leclerc he always used to do this to mine and acted like nothing happened while half my ice-cream was gone!
Ynforeal Maman P, come get your son!!
charles_leclerc
Liked by Ynforeal, Maxverstappen1, scuderiaferrari and 897,672 others
charles_leclerc Flowers and dinner to make up for eating your ice cream❤️
Tagged:Ynforeal
User15 how was the food @/Ynforeal ??
Ynforeal surprisingly good 😊
charles_leclerc HEY!!
Ynforeal thank you for the dinner and flowers Charlie, you are no longer getting the silent treatment 💕
charles_leclerc 😁
Maxverstappen1 Am I going to have a new teammate due to food poisoning??
charles_leclerc Mate, come on!
Ynforeal you don’t have to worry, it was a very nice meal
Ynforeal
Liked by charles_leclerc, Maxverstappen1, yourbff and 879,564 others
Ynforeal not letting you forget lockdown 😊
Tagged: charles_leclerc
Maxverstappen1 banana 🍌
Ynforeal 🍌
Carlossainz55 🍌
charles_leclerc 🍌
Charles_leclerc You couldn’t have picked a better picture of me ?
Ynforeal no❤️
User15 THEY HAVE MATCHING BANANA SUITS!!!
User10 couples who banana together stay together
User12 Amen 🙏
Ynforeal posted a story
Seen by Maxverstappen1, landonorris, yourbff and 897,626 others
Charles_leclerc
Liked by Ynforeal, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 786,985 others
Charles_leclerc We made it to Karting on time 👍
Tagged: Ynforeal
Ynforeal WE WERE 5 MINUTES LATE!!!
Charles_leclerc I don’t know what you are talking about….
Ynforeal 😒
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 smau#formula 1#formula one#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#f1 drivers#driver reader
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second time around.
ln x fem!reader
in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.
staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.
3.9k words
take: 1
the season is coming to an end.
somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.
it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.
she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.
“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.
at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.
you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.
“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“
“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”
you mull over his words.
your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.
but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…
“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.
“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.
-
his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.
you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.
his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.
“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.
when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.
something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.
when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.
he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.
hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.
“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.
you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.
you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.
lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.
but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.
an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.
your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.
-
date night
almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.
it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.
every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.
you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.
fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.
“later.” you whisper.
his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.
“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.
the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.
he launches his attack during dessert.
vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.
“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”
lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.
“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.
“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”
you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.
“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.
“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.
“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.
“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.
“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”
you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.
-
he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.
you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.
he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.
your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.
he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.
at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.
now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.
you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.
you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.
lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.
he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.
-
the fear
lando is due back from qatar.
any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.
he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.
a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.
you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.
you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.
instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.
you raise and eyebrow.
“lando?” you question.
your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.
“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.
the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.
“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.
“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.
lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.
he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.
“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.
“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.
your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.
when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.
“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.
-
when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.
lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.
he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.
“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.
“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.
“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.
“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.
“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.
gentle snores lull you to sleep.
-
quickie
you go with him to austin.
it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.
“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.
“this won’t take long.” he smirks.
you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.
you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.
lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.
thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.
“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.
your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.
“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”
you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.
-
office party
a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.
the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.
you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.
when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.
it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.
you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.
he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.
“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.
“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.
“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.
“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.
lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.
it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.
the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.
he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.
“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.
he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.
“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”
you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.
“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.
“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”
you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.
-
a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.
you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.
when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.
“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.
“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.
but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!
you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.
-
once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao
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@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239
removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
#lando norris#lando norris fic#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#dad!lando norris#f1 fic#f1 smut#formula 1 fic#formula 1 smut#f1 fics#writing things#lando norris imagine#lando norris blurb#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#dad!f1 driver#lando norris angst#f1 angst#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 angst
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ღ this barbie is a race car driver
"did you hear who honda signed?"
"yeah, the daughter of the guy who owns the team."
"what's that about? can she even race?"
"that's what she claims, according to honda's team principal."
"i reckon they just said that cause she's the boss's daughter."
a pair of heels clicking against the polished ground makes the men huddled in a circle collectively turn their heads. the overwhelming clad of pink makes some of them raise their eyebrows: a baby pink dress peeking through her dark pink jacket.
"fans aren't allowed back here," max says hesitantly with a small smile.
"we can take a picture, if you'd like," lando grins, stepping forward. "have you got a phone on you?"
the woman tilts her head. her eyes are big as she stares at the crowd of men in front of her with her shiny lips puckered unknowingly. she furrows her eyebrows slightly, making alex suck in a deep breath.
great, another fan who will villainise them for pushing them out of a restricted area, is all alex could think.
they watch as she takes a deep breath. she perks up with a wide smile, throwing her head back dramatically. she waves her hand in the air with a laugh. "no, silly! i drive for honda," she says with a grin. "you must be lando! and, max, right?"
lando's eyebrows shoot up in shock. a small smile stretches his lips. "oh, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to–"
"it's no problem!" she giggles, scrunching her nose at lando. "we never met so that's okay!"
she introduces herself and extends her arm out to them with a grin. "congrats on all the titles!" she says to max with a smile. she turns to george with a grin. "i love the hilfiger sweater. i can't seem to find one in my size when i went shopping yesterday."
"uh," george trails off, glancing at alex briefly before looking at her again. "i can try and get you one. no promises, though."
"right," max grins. he points further into the hallway. "the driver's briefing is the last door on the right."
"of course!" she claps excitedly. "it was nice meeting you! i'll see you guys later!"
she waves at them excitedly, earning herself a chorus of dull and monotonous goodbyes and unenthusiastic waves.
alex points at her figure walking down the hall. "very barbie."
"ah, that's who she reminded me of!"
taglist: @angsthology @cashtons-wife @darleneslane (comment to be added)
#max verstappen x reader#lando norris x reader#george russell x reader#alex albon x reader#disneyprincemuke sd#fem!driver#f1 fem!driver#female driver#formula 1 fanfic#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1
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every dead end street led you straight to me !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which no one knows how they're both each other's daylight.
or
for when you find the one you were meant to find all along. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // f1 drivers x platonic!driver!fem!reader // milo manheim x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - i am SO sorry for leaving u all but i had my finals going on and now i am DONE with school i just have my college entrance exams left and then im free free FREEEEEE !!!! i love u all sm thank you <333 i hope u like this !!
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by milomanheim, lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,528,519 others
yourusername me n baby boy
edit : he says it's baby MAN i disagree ☝️‼️
11,528 comments
username NAHHHH HOLD UP ☝️☝️☝️☝️
username who u calling baby boy 😞
username gf reveal his face we won't be mean to him pls pls pslase
username screaming what in the world in this
username y/n soft launching her man wasn't on my bingo card this year like OH KAY
username bf reveal when ‼️‼️‼️
username LMAOOOO THE EDIT
username cannot wait for the grid to be summoned and be Weird
landonorris i thought i was the baby boy
-> yourusername girl u r a problem species
-> yourusername he says u can be his baby boy tho 🫵🫵
-> landonorris no thanks
-> yourusername FUCK UUUU FUCKKKKKK U - the bf
-> username lord what is this
username speechless who is THAT
username milo 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 did u get lost 🤨🤨🤨🤨
-> milomanheim wdym i'm not even here
-> username gaslighter 🫵🫵
username cannot wait for race weekend it's gonna be sooooooo fun 🤞🗣️🗣️🗣️
alexandrasaintmleux the cutest 💘
-> yourusername no u 🫵🫵🫵
-> charles_leclerc stop trying to steal my girlfriend please
-> yourusername stop flirting with my bf maybe ?????
-> alexandrasaintmleux charles ?
-> charles_leclerc this isn't what it looks like
username y/n casually wrecking homes and stealing her colleagues gfs lile yasssss queen i support it
-> username support women's rights and wrongs 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️🤞🤞🤞
username madly obsessed with her this is life altering to me
milomanheim real life angel visited the angel store !!!!!!! employees must've been happy
-> maxverstappen1 biblically accurate angel but sure
-> yourusername i pray on ur downfall every minute
milomanheim "baby boy" wasn't even directed at me and i blushed
-> yourusername homewrecker vibes stay AWAY!!!! 🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺
-> milomanheim wow
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, landonorris, alex_albon and 2,157,816 others
milomanheim ur in her dms i'm on google searching nutrient rich soils i'd keep her in if she was a worm
10,996 comments
username DEAD GONE DECEASED SIX FEET UNDER
username usually i don't get men but like,,,,,,okayyyyshajshsjsjsd haha hi!!!!!!!!!
username HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS
*liked by yourusername*
-> username MISS GIRL WTFFF
-> username no y/n get UPPPPP
username prettiest boy oh my god
username not to alarm anyone but half the grid is here and i am having Thoughts
username Y/N??? LANDO??? ALEX???
-> username my met gala honestly
alex_albon delete the caption before lily sees it 🗣️🗣️���️🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
-> milomanheim let the queen know she shouldn't settle for less ☝️🗣️
-> lilymhe yeah alex you're being a 🚩🚩🚩 right now
-> alex_albon oh god
username ALEX AND LILY BEING BSF WITH MILO????? WHAT IS THIS????? WHAT WILL BE NEXT????? LEWIS GIVING HIM FASHION ADVICE????? CHARLES SAYING SOME INCOHERENT SHIT?????
-> username baby breathe
-> username FUCK OFF LUCAS
lewishamilton i see someone's challenging my paddock icon title
-> milomanheim watch your back hamilton (U ARE ICONIC I COULD NEVER U ALWAYS POP OFF KING LIKE EAT UP EVERY SINGLE TIME)
-> lewishamilton i really like you
-> milomanheim DIED
username i feel things looking at those pictures OH MY GOD
username no bc if y/n and milo are together i will simply combust bc HAVE U SEEN THEM???? I BI PANIC I BI PANICKED
username everyday i wake up and bless god for milo manheim ❤️
username the way i KNOW he posted this for y/n like just trust me
-> username girl they don't even know each other ☝️
-> username TRUST ✊✊✊
yourusername HANDS HANDS HANDS HANSD HSNDS
*this comment was deleted*
yourusername nice
-> milomanheim ty
yourusername i see the vibe we went for was "raided grandpa's closest that was in my inheritance"
-> milomanheim sadly the only thing i inherited
-> yourusername that and those genes 😮💨
-> milomanheim that too 🥰
-> username oh yeah they're dating alright 👍
yourusername the filter is so cool
-> milomanheim ahahahahhaa rhank y
-> milomanheim thank you********
yourusername 🦕
-> milomanheim why
-> yourusername cute
-> milomanheim yes u are
-> username THE GASP I JUST GASPED
username y/n's engagement under this post goes WILD like
-> username girlie really commented the most random bullshit
username i bet the driver's gc is going CRAZY rn
-> username somewhere on this earth there is a george russell yelling at everyone in the gc to keep it strictly for professional things
-> username russell george i am sorry they are putting u through that😞😞😞
username MILOOOOOOOOOO AND Y/N IM SCREAMING
≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
yourusername added to their close friends' stories
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by milomanheim, maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 2,517,986 others
yourusername there are things (inappropriate stuff) i wanna say to u (my BOYFRIEND) but i'll just let u (my COLLEAGUES) live
11,962 comments
username she's so real for this
username speak ur truth queen 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
username her pr team is trying so HARD like i feel like they don't get paid enough to deal with all this
-> yourusername i'll take that as a compliment thank u
username the power couple and we don't even know who he is
-> username mama y papa
-> username honestly they eat up everyone with these pictures
username hidden and secret and private??? girl really picked out her battles
username LOVE LOVE LOVEEEE this for her
landonorris thank you because i saw what you texted him this morning and osc had to physically stop me from bathing with bleach
-> yourusername why are u acting as if u literally didn't just straight up ask us if we "needed a third"
-> landonorris LIES SHE LIES SHE'S A LIAR
-> oscarpiastri mate the entire paddock was there
-> landonorris details but like..........do u
-> yourusername do we what.
-> landonorris ............need a third
-> mclaren oh hello ! guess who just lost their phone PRIVILEGES
username screaming bc they're already parents
-> username he's an absent father but ok
username babe come home the kids and the cats and the cow and that goat miss u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username mother never misses
username lewis WISHES he was her
-> yourusername RIGHTTTT
-> lewishamilton roscoe's godmother privileges REVOKED
username f1 grid will never fail to make to laugh bc what do u mean lando asked y/n and the bf if he needed a third and what do u MEAN that y/n is roscoe's godmother
username live laugh toaster bath sayonara 😞
-> username felt this in my bones
milomanheim speak out ur truth queen !!!!!!
-> yourusername i did
-> charles_leclerc is that why he's redder than my car righOH MY GOD PEOPLE CAN SEE YOU
-> yourusername charles LOOK AWAY !!!!!!
-> username no bc
-> username oh
-> username she bout to be yelled at by her manager i can FEEL her anger rn
username that man better know how to fight bc the grid can and WILL come for him if he does something
-> milomanheim i am scared
-> yourusername uh
-> milomanheim for him i mean haha autocorrect
-> username did he just
-> username oh yeah
-> username all that build up and for milo to just
-> username guess who's sleeping on the couch
milomanheim before u say anything
-> yourusername i am SO disappointed rn
-> milomanheim I'M SORRY
-> yourusername :(( i had 3 months of soft/hard launch planned with annotations and notes
-> milomanheim we can still do that!!! anything u want!!!
milomanheim i love u
-> yourusername ok
-> milomanheim girl
-> yourusername wow ok damn i love u more then ig 😒
-> milomanheim ❤️
-> username fuck u both STOP RUINING SINGLE PEOPLE'S LIVES
-> username crazy about them
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 2,317,637 others
milomanheim something about how taylor swift said every dead end street led u straight to me 💘
tagged yourusername
11,628 comments
username I SCREECHED OH MY GOD
username we knew but OH MY GOD THE REVEAL
username and everyone cheered
username roman empire or roman empire
username THAT DOODLE IS SO CUTE WHAT THE FUCK I WILL CRY RN
-> yourusername it's how he won me over
-> milomanheim wait actually
-> yourusername yes 🥰
-> milomanheim i thought it was me saying PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE till u agreed
-> yourusername that probably sealed the deal 💘
-> username i love how he's so "golden retriever" bf and she's "just proud of him in whatever case" gf
-> username truly mom and dad
username i don't wanna hear bitches say love ain't real anymore bc how do u explain THIS
username taylor wrote that song for them trust she told me herself
username WHAT THE FUCK THE LEGO FLOWERS IM CRYING
-> username he set the bar so high it's a dash at this point
username in love with both of them honestly
username crying LOOK AT THEM!!!!!
landonorris how you've both grown up! i still remember the first time she saw you and cried to me about how fucking pretty you are :)
-> milomanheim OHHHH ????
-> yourusername im gonna jump u this weekend WATCH UR FUCKING BACK
-> username nah bc y/n is so real for this
username milo with that drawing is so "what if i told u i'm a mastermind"
-> username NAH HONESTLY
-> username bro prophesied his relationship
username if my relationship isn't like this then i don't want it 💔💔💔
username lord i see how kind u have been to others
username and adding onto my 252719262 reasons we have THIS
username all the love songs in the universe are about them fyi !!!!!!
username AHHSHSHSHDHSJJDJDNX 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
yourusername also about how she said i wanna teach u how forever feels
-> milomanheim nah bc u will like where r u gonna go 🤨
-> yourusername baby we were having a cute moment there
-> milomanheim BABY 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️‼️😬😬😬😬🤞🤞🤞🤞🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯
-> charles_leclerc give him some time he's buffering
-> username something tells me that this is a very regular occurrence
-> oscarpiastri it is
yourusername my baby's fit like a daydream
-> milomanheim 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️❤️❤️❤️❤️‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯🥰🥰🥰🥰☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️
-> username what is happening
-> oscarpiastri just give him some time
yourusername not to be a hopeful romantic loser on the main but i find u in every love song i listen to so yea
-> milomanheim look at u being nice for once
-> yourusername boy i will block u
yourusername love u
-> milomanheim who love me
-> yourusername *i* love you
-> milomanheim ilyt
-> username NO HE DID NOT 😭😭😭
-> username bro needs to learn how to hesitate
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by milomanheim, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,785,159 others
yourusername if the whole world was watching i'd still dance with u
tagged milomanheim
12,628 comments
username GOODBYE
username this post right here your honour
username the way i teleported to the railway track
username SCREAMING SJSJTRBCUCJ
username pls block me b4 posting happy stuff (im so happy i cry)
landonorris you can't even order on your own sir DOWN
-> yourusername FUCK UUUUU OMG
username i just ascended to the pearly gates
username DRIVE HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS TO BE THERE WITH U
-> username OVER AND OVER THE ONLY TRUTH
-> username EVERYTHING COMES BACK TO YOU
-> username i shed tears
username they're literally winning in life BOTH OF THEM
username NOT HIM PEELING ORANGES FOR HER IM GONNA SCREAM
username the orange theory is true and it's real because y/n and milo just proved it argue with air
username is no one gonna talk about how his name is saved as "mylo(ve) <3333"
-> username i had to take SEVERAL deep breaths so as to not break down in front of my family
-> username no one's doing it like them
username IN A WORLD OF BOYS HE'S A GENTLEMAN
*liked by yourusername*
lilymhe with me obviously 🙄
-> yourusername obviously
-> milomanheim 😧
-> alex_albon 😧
username if he doesn't stand outside my window with a sign asking when can he see me HE IS NOT THE ONE
-> username FRRRRR like stop‼️settling‼️for‼️less‼️
username going crazy over these photos like there's SO MUCH content
username y/n feeding us those milo crumbs
-> username nah she gave us whole PLATES with utensils and all ☝️☝️☝️
username i truly cannot wait for milo to be in her garage bc we all know that they're stupidly in love with each other and watching them giggling and smiling and laughing will be much more entertaining than racing
-> username nah bc bro doesn't know how to function with her around
-> username i don't even blame him bc that's Y/N Y/L/N
charles_leclerc how is this relationship gonna work when none of you has the guts to go and say that they got your order wrong
-> yourusername ur saying this as if alex hasn't been the one to go up and say that u asked for no pickles
-> charles_leclerc that was classified information
-> yourusername not anymore 🤗
username i live for y/n terrorizing the grid fueled by nothing but coffee and/or spite
username they're soooooooooooo disgusting im just gonna cry in a corner bc i do not have someone to peel my oranges for me and i have to do it myself like a common peasant
milomanheim i would peel oranges for u forever dw baby i got u 🍊🍊🍊
-> yourusername this is so sweet i cried stfu
milomanheim cannot believe i get to tell everyone ur my gf like OH MY GOD 😭😭😭
-> yourusername bf
-> milomanheim gf
-> landonorris bf AND gf ?
-> yourusername STOP ASKING
milomanheim wdym i cannot love u more than life itself 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 lies bc i do love u more than life itself
-> yourusername i would sacrifice max for u
-> milomanheim doesn't mean that much bc i know u would sacrifice him for a juice box
-> maxverstappen1 OH REALLLLLLLLY
milomanheim angel 🍒
-> yourusername no u
milomanheim u make me feel all golden like daylight
-> yourusername u make me feel all i like shiny things but i'd marry u with paper rings
-> username bye y'all this was fun
-> username brb i need to test if my toaster is waterproof or not
#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#social media au#fake instagram imagines#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#f1 x platonic!reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 imagine#f1 grid x reader#f1 x female driver
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THE MIGHTY HAS FALLEN (BUT YOU'LL RISE AGAIN, LOVE) ( max verstappen. )
max verstappen x reader
after a tough race cut short, max pushes away any person around him, but not her. never her. she always picks up the pieces to put him back together.
authors note: I love max. I know he's not the self-deprecating typa guy, but in this, he is, OKAY. charles is after this <333
HE WAS A BOMB. the fuse getting shorter and shorter every minute that his patience was tested. everything around him seemed to irritate him more and more as he tried to keep himself from exploding, for pr's sake.
he just wanted to avoid the media all together, for obvious reasons, but he was contractually obligated to give his words to the journalists under the media tent. putting him under a microscope and asking questions that had an undertone of scrutiny in hopes of catching him break. he was close, but he wouldn’t.
it hadn’t even been a fault of his own, he rarely made those anymore. the car had caught fire, but not due to a mistake he had made, and even if it had been, he wouldn't have admitted it anyways. still he felt the guilt of his lack of performance, beating himself up after every question asked about his car and what had happened.
it was just stupid. the questions were stupid. the car was stupid. this whole race was stupid.
the pressure to perform, even in the best car on the grid, was high. despite his seat being secured for plenty of years to come, he still had expectations to meet and records to break.
it was obvious to everyone that max was hard on himself every time he didn't perform his best, his girlfriend especially noticing when she’d find him in his very luxurious driver's room sulking at even the slightest of a mistake made by him.
it didn't happen often, but when it did, she'd been there for him. he knew that.
he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never be seen again because world champions don't make stupid mistakes.
even if this hadn't been a mistake he made, he should've known. even if there was no possible way he could’ve, he should've.
he was raised to believe that he was only deserving if he had been first, that he was destined to fail after every second place or worse finish.
so it wasn't surprising when he thought he didn't deserve her. in comparison, or more like his eyes, she was simply perfect.
and she understood him, which not many people could because he wouldn't let anyone pick apart his brain like she did.
he locked his thoughts and feelings in the dark that shrouded his mind from early childhood trauma. he promised he would never let anyone see.
but he was never great at keeping such promises because it hadn't taken much for her to pick the lock to his brain. even though he wasn't ready to spill every detail of his upbringing to her, he trusted her.
and he didn't get to do that all too often.
the media had been brutal—he knew they would be—and yet it still crushed his mentality and faith in himself.
with his race suit around his waist despite having time to change beforehand, he walked through the paddock in shame at the early retirement.
it wasn't like this determined the outcome of his career because the next race, he'd be back on top. he didn't feel so sure of it though because all his thoughts were on this failure. what if he failed the next race?
what if he failed the whole season? what if he fails her?
unlikely, the people know, but he had so much confidence which had so easily crumbled when it got a little too hot. he wasn't sure of himself anymore.
anyone could see the turmoil bubbling underneath his skin, harsh waves crashing in the ocean of his blue eyes as he pushed past anyone and everyone.
the walk through the paddock was short, considering the red bull motorhome was the first of ten. max hastily entered through the automatic doors, skipping steps as he was eager to hide out in his driver's room.
he felt the eyes of the staff follow him down the hall until he disappeared quickly around the corner. he didn't want to be seen by anyone.
the door to his driver's room closed as fast as it was opened, but much louder. she heard the slam of the door echo down the hallway.
she didn't flinch, she just calmly greeted staff with smiles and left a bag of sweets on the table for them. she always brought something for the team, to celebrate every victory and despite this not being one, they still deserved it for working hard.
since she had gotten there not too long after him, she lingered around the lobby. she didn't want to be waiting around for him to show up and have him brush her off because he wasn't in the right headspace.
he would never mean to dismiss her, and she knew to give him at least a little time to himself to think and process things. she couldn't give him too much time though because she didn't want his self-deprecating thoughts to eat away at his confidence.
from what she analyzed from the staff and their demeanor, he'd probably caught them off guard when he slammed his door.
she wouldn't apologize for his behavior because she would make him do it when he cooled down.
so she hung around and made small talk with the sparse staff around to allow max a few minutes to himself before excusing herself down the hall.
she had a bomb to defuse after all.
the clack of her heels on the hard floors bounced off the walls, but she walked quietly enough so max didn't hear her coming. he knew she would though. he knew she would find him with his head in his hands, barely covered in sweat because he didn't race for more than three laps.
his face was still flush with disappointment though. he didn't want her to see him like this even though she was with him during his last disappointing race, but even though his singaporean grand prix finish wasn't great, at least he hadn't been out of the race.
max hadn't DNF’d in two years because he was simply just that good, and he still is. he just didn't feel like it.
his hands pressed so hard against his eyes, the blood vessels in them would have popped if he pushed any harder. he had taken off his red bull hat, he felt he didn't deserve the number one right now. it was thrown lazily onto the makeshift bed in his driver's room.
the room was practically silent, every so often interrupted by a deep sigh of disappointment that escaped his lips. he had sat there for a good couple or minutes, sulking.
when she reached his door, she held the bouquet of flowers she always got for him close to her body with one arm while she raised the other to knock. her hand only slightly hesitated before her fist made contact with the door and a few seconds later, she tried entering. it was locked, which was usual whenever he was brooding.
at first, when max heard the knock, he thought of all the people last on his list that he would want to see right now, but on the bottom of the list was the person he wanted to avoid the most right now.
his dad.
their relationship was rocky. he never supported max at any place unless it was on the very top of the podium, and even then max thought he looked unpleasant.
“go away,” was all max could mutter through his hands as his heart started to pick up the pace.
she sighed, shaking her head with a smile pulling at her lips, “max.” it was all she needed to say.
part of him didn't want to let her in, he didn't want her to see him like this, but he knew she was just as stubborn as him, if not more. he knew she would stand there all day if he didn't open the door to let her in.
and he would always let her in.
she heard the low creak of the sofa she could imagine him sitting on, but not his footsteps while he made his way to the door. she only knew he heard her when the lock clicked and the door slowly opened inwards to reveal the red-faced max verstappen.
she stood staring at him, her head tilted as she studied his face. he didn't move, he just watched her eyes dart around his appearance, and he felt himself getting hot under his fireproofs.
“are you going to let me in, verstappen?” she teased, a sly smile on her lips as she watched her boyfriend roll his eyes.
he scoffed, stepping aside, “don't call me that.”
“what?” she acted innocent, stepping into his driver's room with the fresh flowers, seeing the already prepped vase, “don't call you by your name?”
“you know what I mean.” though he tried to keep a straight face and act like he was still mad, he couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto his lips. she just had that effect.
she heard the door close and lock again as she took the wrapping off and placed the flowers in the vase. she shrugged at his words, her back still towards him, but she knew he had sat back down.
“you didn't have to get those,” he mumbled, “didn't win.”
she sighed, crumbling the wrapping in her hand and throwing it away before walking to where he sat. she stood in front of him as he looked up at her.
even with heels, he was still much taller than her and even though he was sitting, he reached barely below her chin.
she spread her arms to offer a hug to him, which he gratefully took, his arms snaking around the low of her hips. pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around his head, running her fingers through his hair.
she felt him sigh against her skin, his eyes closing as they stayed like that for minutes without speaking. she felt him caress the bare skin of her thigh with his thumb.
when they finally pulled apart, his hands still laid firmly on her hips, his hair disheveled from the hug. she ran her hands through it to fix it and he only watched as she did so.
when she finally finished after only ten seconds because guy hair is a lot less complicated than women’s hair, he finally spoke up, “why are you dressed so uncomfortably?”
she was slightly taken aback, seeing as he was just moping about his race not even ten minutes ago and now commenting on her appearance. he only assumed she was uncomfortable, but unfortunately his assumption was correct.
“what do you mean?” she looked down at her attire, which isn't so different from the other wags that she hung out with.
his hand snuck around the back of her thigh and pulled up her leg, “I thought I told you to stop wearing heels, you always complain about them.”
“i’m fine,” she said, about to cross her arms, but her balance said otherwise so she settled them on his shoulders for support.
he gave her an incredulous look because every time she wore heels, without fail, she would complain less than an hour into wherever they were that she wanted to sit.
“okay, i admit i can't wait to get these things off,” she let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her hip, “but I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”
she said in his response to take the heels off her feet for her, a simple gesture really, but this was about him.
“do you want to talk about it?” she massaged his shoulders as he threw her heels to the other side of the small sofa.
“nothing to talk about,” he shrugged, “maybe I don't deserve being first.”
she pushed his head to look up at her, shaking her head, “you just don't realize how much you deserve, max. you're a world champion, a three-time one,” she reassured him, “you've won countless races, and you still have the entire season ahead of you. I know you want to, but you can't let one bad race define your season.”
“I know, you're right.” he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought deeply, “but I have to prove myself.”
“you've already done that plenty of times,” she shook his shoulders in emphasis, “besides you'll still lead the championship, unless charles gets p1, but you'll get it right back if that's the case.”
she was right. she always was, he never doubted her. he would never doubt her because she would never lie to him. she always backed up her answers by building up his ego and confidence back up so he was ready to fight it out on the track next race.
whether it took a couple of minutes or hours to bring his mood back up, she'd take her time in making him feel like the champion he was again.
she would take his phone from him, he didn't need to see the articles being written or the missing phone calls from his dad.
all he needed was her and she would always be there.
—
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
#formula 1#formula 1 drivers#formula one#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#mv1#mv33#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#mv1 x you#mv1 x y/n#mv1 angst#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fluff
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Lando is secretly dating a girl he knew from high school, and she meets Daniel Ricciardo at one point, Lando brings y/n to a race very discreetly and there is some jealousy with Daniel and it ends up with a quickie in his motor room, and lastly their relationship is exposed in some way
Please☺️
You're mine and it's time to let them know II Lando Norris x Reader ⓈⒽⓌ
SUMMARY: Lando has loved nothing more than to have you all to himself for so long but it only takes Daniel Ricciardo to make sure the world hears you scream you're his.
WARNINGS: **18+**
A/N: I switched the request a little I hope you don't mind It just sort of worked better in my mind like this ;)
"You ready darling?" Lando walked into your shared bedroom after the last-minute business call he had to take. "Woah." He bit his lip eying you up and down.
"No baby...I know that look we're already running late." You couldn't hold back the smirk at the way you saw your boyfriend looking at you knowing that look would only lead to another and you'd both end up wrapped up in the sheets soon after.
"What? I don't know what you're talking about." Lando feigned innocence although he walked towards you wrapping his hands around your waist loving the way you felt in his arms especially when you looked like this.
"Lando." You said his name in a warning tone as you finished putting your earrings in.
"It's times like this I hate that we're a secret...how am I supposed to keep my hands off you tonight?" Lando pouted, his usual child-like behavior showing.
"Well you've done for 6 years I'm sure you'll manage another night." You smiled grabbing your boyfriend's hand before guiding him out.
"At least let me kiss you." Lando stopped and pulled you back you as you were about to open the front door.
"I just put lip gloss on." You pouted this time.
Lando obviously didn't find a problem with this as he happily took your pout as an invitation to close the space between you both and kiss you a little more intensely than you'd thought he meant.
By the time he pulled away, Lando knew he had left you in a daze. "Lan-" your breath skipped as you saw the lip gloss around your boyfriend's lips.
"That should do for a few hours," Lando smirked as he took his fingers wiping the gloss that had spread around your lips and proceeded to use the back of his sleeve to wipe the excess around his own lips before exciting through the front door.
________
You arrived on separate cars not being new to the hundreds of cameras that would be waiting at the entrance to the gala. After so many years of hiding their relationship, everything was rehearsed when they were in public.
It was fun, you thought almost like your own Hannah Montana movie. People knew who you were, completely aware to your ties with Lando from being classmates in high school to working together in the same industry now.
That's at least as much as the public knew. They weren't familiar with the longer version of the story where Lando and you had actually been more than classmates in high school and were in fact in a long relationship and had mutually decided to work in the same industry to stay together.
Lando of course had always dreamt of being a driver and wanting to stay close to him but also sharing a passion for communication you'd been offered a job as communication manager for McLaren allowing you to stay close, but not close enough for people to suspect there was more.
So thankfully it also wasn't odd for you to appear at the F1 gala as you had been invited ever since you'd started working with McLaren.
What was unexpected though was the fact that a certain someone would take the opportunity to make a move now that he wasn't going to be in the team anymore.
"You look beautiful." Daniel walked to you a drink in hand before he took another one from a passing waiter handing out glasses of champagne.
"Thank you, Dani, you clean up well too." Daniel handed you the new drink as you chose to reply kindly not a stranger to men trying to hit on you but another driver was certainly new territory.
"You know when we were working I was certain you had to be seeing someone but coming to the gala with a dress as gorgeous as this without someone by your side...that is a surprise." Daniel was a lot more intense than you'd expected making you choke on your drink.
"Uhmm...actually-" You were interrupted before you could come up with something.
"y/n come dance with me." Lando walked up to you placing his hand low on your back which took you completely by surprise.
"I was actually hoping to dance with her myself-" Daniel laughed with Lando except Lando didn't seem to find the humor.
"Hmm was always faster wasn't I?" You gasped at the insinuation and watched Dani's smile drop but before you could say anything else Lando had taken your hand and was taking you somewhere.
"Lando!" You shouted after your boyfriend who didn't seem like would stop until he got to his destination.
Lando didn't stop until you were both in a secluded hallway.
"Lando what the fuck wa-" But before you could say anything else Lando had pulled you in holding your waist tightly into him and kissing you passionately.
"You're mine okay? I'm tired of hiding it." He whispered and you could feel his breath tickle your lips as you tried to process what was happening.
"Lan where did this come from?" You weren't exactly opposed to the idea of finally going public but you certainly didn't think today would be the day.
"I just...I'm having a hard time keeping my hands off you in this dress." Lando smirked repeating his words from a few hours earlier before he took your hand once more pulling you into the men's bathroom and locking the door after him.
"Lando what has gotten into you!" Your smile deceived you as Lando picked you up and sat you on the bathroom counter.
"Can't a man just show his girlfriend how much he fucking loves her?" Lando smirked as he kneeled in front of you and wasted no time in attacking the space between your legs.
"Ahh-" You were breathless in seconds as Lando licked at your clothed clit for a few seconds before shoving your panties aside and sucking you directly.
"Let me see you baby-" Lando seperated his lips from you for a few seconds and you knew exactly what he meant.
You shimmied the straps of your dress off your shoulders letting Lando see your bare chest as his hand came up to cup your left boob.
"Lando please fuck me-" you begged your boyfriend as you felt yourself getting close.
"Only because we need to be quick pretty girl." Lando obliged coming up to kiss you and letting you taste yourself on his lips as he aligned himself with you.
"Mhm-" you moaned into your boyfriends lips as he pushed into you starting to set a pace immediately.
"How does that feel baby?" Lando asked.
"Mm so- so ahh-so good Lando-" You were struggling to formulate words with how good he could make you feel.
"That's it darling, let everyone hear who you're screaming for." Lando grunted.
"AHH LAN!" You weren't able to contain your volume as Lando quickened his pace without previous warning but something told you he intended for this to happen.
"Who's making you cum baby?" Lando asked as he could feel you start to clench around him.
"Ah-Ah- you- you Lan-only you-" You moaned not even sure how loud you were being but quite frankly you didn't care.
"Fuck...that's it." Lando was satisfied enough as he slowed his pace after fucking you through your orgasm and finishing himself. "That's it, darling." He kissed you softly, a clear contrast to the way he'd just fucked you seconds before.
"Everyone's gonna know now Lan-" you commented as you pulled the straps back over your shoulder and Lan cleaned you up gently.
"That was the idea yes-" Lando smirked proudly planting a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling your dress down and patting it down for you.
"Was the idea everyone or Dani?" You asked laughing to yourself knowing how childish your boyfriend could be.
"Hmm let's say one of those was an added bonus" He winked as he watched you fix your hair and tried to clean yourself up a bit.
"You're insane." You turned to face your boyfriend.
"And you still said yes." He smiled before kissing you once more, proudly wrapping his arm around your waist and enjoying the rest of the night unashamedly with you by his side.
A/N: This is the first time I do a twitter au on Tumblr but don't expect them frequently cause I hate doing them I just thought it went well with this story ;)
#f1 x reader#f1#f1 imagine#changetyre#f1 one shot#f1fic#smut#f1 smut#f1smut#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fic#fi driver x reader
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bitch, i’m a mother! | f1
female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) the reader is around the same age as daniel. i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance
part 1 part 3
Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK
“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.
“Hey, Lando!”
“Lando! How’s it going?”
“Norris, hey!”
Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.
“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”
“There’s a big chance I might be here.”
Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”
As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.
“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.
“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.
“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.
“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.
The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”
“Anyone else?”
“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.
“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.
“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.
“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.
“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.
“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”
It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.
“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.
Charlie Hunnam, actor.
Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?
“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.
“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.
“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.
After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”
Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.
“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.
“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”
“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”
Oh.
“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.
“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.
“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.
Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”
“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”
Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.
“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.
Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.
“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.
“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”
“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.
“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”
“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.
“I love all my grid sons equally.”
#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 driver!reader#f1 one shot#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#platonic#f1 x female reader
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