#Safe Driver
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owlphibiaisthebest15 · 9 days ago
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One of my favorite little details in Sonic 06 is that Shadow always looks over his shoulder whenever he's backing up his buggy. Even The Ultimate Lifeform practices standard safe driving protocol.
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supremedriveae · 2 years ago
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safedriverdubaiae · 3 days ago
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Safe Driver | Safe Driver Dubai | Safe Driver Abu Dhabi | Best Safe Driver | Safe Driver Prices
Looking for a Safe Driver in Abu Dhabi? Whether you're heading home after a night out, attending a business meeting, or simply need a personal chauffeur, our Safe Driver Dubai services ensure you reach your destination safely and on time. We pride ourselves on offering professional, experienced, and courteous drivers who prioritize your comfort and safety.
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awesomedrivedubai · 3 days ago
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Safe Driver Dubai | Reliable Personal Driver Services in Dubai & Abu Dhabi
Looking for a trusted Safe Driver in Dubai or Safe Driver Abu Dhabi? Our professional and licensed chauffeurs ensure a smooth, safe, and comfortable ride wherever you go. Whether it’s a night out, business meeting, or airport transfer, book a Safe Driver in just minutes. Enjoy affordable, on-time, and hassle-free transportation across the UAE with our reliable Safe Driver services.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months ago
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I love you Safety Wizard.
(Inspired by @keroascrazy)
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driversafe42 · 1 month ago
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Enjoy hassle-free rides with our professional and trusted safe drivers in Dubai. Perfect for late-night events, business trips, or everyday travel. Safety, comfort, and punctuality guaranteed.
Book Us Now – Quick, Easy & Reliable!
website: safedrivers.ae
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safedriver12 · 5 months ago
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Can Women Drive in Dubai?
Dubai is known for its modern infrastructure, luxury lifestyle, and progressive policies. As one of the most visited destinations in the world, it attracts people from different cultures and backgrounds. One common question tourists and expats ask is whether women are allowed to drive in Dubai. The answer is straightforward: Women can drive in Dubai, and they do so freely, just like men.
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For many years, Dubai has encouraged gender equality in various sectors, including transportation. Women in Dubai drive their personal vehicles and work as professional chauffeurs, taxi drivers, and even safe drivers for hire. The city ensures that female drivers have equal rights and opportunities, creating an inclusive environment for everyone.
1. Understanding Women's Driving Rights in Dubai
Dubai follows the legal framework of the United Arab Emirates (UAE), where women have the full right to drive. Unlike in the past, when certain restrictions were imposed in some neighbouring countries, Dubai has continuously allowed women to obtain a driving license without discrimination.
The UAE government promotes women's participation in various industries, including transportation. If they meet the necessary licensing requirements, women can legally drive any vehicle, from sedans to luxury or commercial vehicles.
2. How to Get a Driving License as a Woman in Dubai
To drive in Dubai, women must obtain a valid UAE driving license. The process involves attending driving lessons at an authorised driving school, passing theory and practical tests, and completing the necessary paperwork. Expats can also convert their existing licenses from approved countries without taking a test.
The Roads and Transport Authority (RTA) regulates the licensing process to ensure that all drivers, regardless of gender, meet the necessary safety standards. Women can take lessons from female instructors, making the learning experience more comfortable.
3. The Role of Women as Safe Drivers in Dubai
Dubai has a growing number of professional female drivers who work in various transportation services. Many women prefer hiring female drivers for added comfort and security, especially for family travel. The demand for safe driver UAE services is increasing, and women play a crucial role in this industry.
These professional drivers undergo extensive training and background checks to provide high-quality services. Women can easily book a safe driver Dubai service for personal or professional needs to ensure a hassle-free travel experience.
4. Safety and Traffic Regulations for Women Drivers
Dubai has strict traffic regulations that apply to all drivers, including women. The city enforces road safety measures such as speed limits, seat belt rules, and traffic signal compliance. These regulations are designed to reduce accidents and ensure a smooth traffic flow.
Women drivers in Dubai are expected to follow the same rules as men, without gender-based restrictions. The government continuously updates traffic laws to enhance road safety, and all drivers must stay informed about these regulations.
5. Public Perception of Female Drivers in Dubai
Dubai's perception of female drivers is highly positive. Women driving on Dubai’s roads are ordinary, and the city embraces gender equality. Unlike in the past, when there were stereotypes about women drivers, Dubai has moved beyond such biases, encouraging women to take an active role in driving.
Women from different nationalities confidently drive in Dubai, proving the city is progressive and inclusive. Many local and expat women also work in the transportation sector, further normalising female participation in driving-related professions.
6. Women Driving Luxury and Sports Cars in Dubai
Dubai is known for its high-end cars; women are just as enthusiastic about luxury and sports cars as men. Women are commonly driving Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and Rolls-Royces on the city's roads. Car dealerships and rental services cater to female clients, offering them the same premium experience.
The city's love for luxury cars extends to all genders, with women participating in car shows, motorsports events, and exclusive driving clubs. This showcases the empowerment of women in Dubai's automotive culture.
7. Female Taxi and Chauffeur Services in Dubai
Dubai has dedicated taxi services for female passengers operated by women. The RTA introduced the Ladies and Families Taxi service, where female drivers cater to women and families who prefer a more private and comfortable travel option.
Additionally, private chauffeur services employ female drivers to provide safe driver UAE solutions for clients who prefer a woman behind the wheel. This initiative ensures more opportunities for female employment in the transportation sector while meeting customer preferences.
8. The Impact of Women Driving on Dubai's Economy
Allowing women to drive has positively impacted Dubai’s economy by increasing workforce participation and boosting transportation-related businesses. More women owning and driving vehicles means higher demand for car sales, insurance, and driving schools.
Additionally, the rise of female-driven safe driver Dubai services has contributed to the growth of private driver hiring platforms. As more women enter the driving industry, they bring economic benefits while enhancing convenience for residents and visitors.
9. Future Opportunities for Women in Dubai’s Transportation Sector
Dubai continues to create opportunities for women in the transportation sector. The city encourages female participation in commercial driving, public transportation, and private chauffeur services. New policies supporting gender equality will give women more career options in this industry.
Technology is also improving transportation services, allowing women to work as drivers for ride-hailing apps and Safe Driver UAE services. As Dubai evolves, further advancements will empower women in the driving sector.
Conclusion
Women can drive freely in Dubai, enjoying the same rights and opportunities as men. The city promotes gender equality in all aspects, including transportation, and allows women to participate in various driving professions. Whether driving for personal convenience or working as a professional, safe driver in the UAE, women play an essential role in Dubai’s road culture.
With continued laws and advancements in economic growth, women in Dubai will continue to thrive in the driving industry. The bright future is bright, with increasing opportunities and a welcoming environment supporting female drivers. Dubai is indeed a city where women can confidently take the wheel.
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safedriver178 · 1 year ago
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Safe Driver Dubai Elevating Journeys with Professionalism 
In the heart of Dubai, Safe Driver Dubai stands out for its commitment to professionalism, offering more than just transportation. This blog explores the essence of a professional driver and why choosing Safe Driver Dubai ensures an exceptional journey that goes beyond the ordinary. 
The Essence of a Professional Driver:
 Safe Driver Dubai understands that a professional driver is more than just someone behind the wheel. They are experts, local guides, and curators of a superior travel experience. With precision and reliability, Safe Driver Dubai's professional drivers redefine what it means to navigate the vibrant streets of Dubai.
 Safe Driver Dubai Difference:
At the core of Safe Driver Dubai's service is a team of experienced drivers who undergo rigorous training. Personalized service, reliability, and an unwavering commitment to excellence set them apart. They are not just drivers; they are your concierge on the roads, ensuring each journey is curated to perfection.
 Navigating Dubai with a Professional Touch:
 Safe Driver Dubai's professional drivers go beyond navigation – they become local guides, unlocking the city's treasures. From iconic landmarks to hidden gems, your journey becomes an exploration, guided by experts who understand the intricacies of Dubai's diverse landscape.
 Customer Testimonials:
 Success stories from Safe Driver Dubai's customers highlight the efficiency, expertise, and personalized service of the professional driver team. Whether for business or leisure, customers praise the transformative experiences that redefine their perception of transportation.
Conclusion:
 Choosing Safe Driver Dubai means choosing professionalism that exceeds expectations. Elevate your journey in Dubai with experienced drivers who bring precision, reliability, and personalized service to every mile. Discover the true essence of professionalism on the roads with Safe Driver Dubai.
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saferdriver · 2 years ago
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Hire Top Safe Driver Service in Dubai
Awesome Drive has years of experience in providing an innovative and unique Safe Driver service to the Dubai public. With Dubai’s existing and expanding number of bars and restaurants and the fact that most of us drive to nearly every place we go to, Awesome Drive felt that a dynamic and unique transport service was required, whereby you call Awesome Drive when you need a designated chauffeur! If you are out at an event, clubbing, or atone of Dubai’s popular brunches, than call us for a safer journey home. Drive your car to any destination, enjoy yourself, and don’t forget to call Awesome Drive who will send you a driver to drive you and your car home. We also provides Safe Driver Dubai services for personal use, valet parking services, Corporate use, crew and staff transportation, chauffeur outsourcing and Events. For more awesomedrive.ae/
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supremedriveae · 2 months ago
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Book your Safe Driver service in just 80Aed Anywhere in Dubai.
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safedriverdubaiae · 2 months ago
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Safe Driver Dubai & Abu Dhabi – Professional Chauffeur Service at Your Comfort
Hiring for a Safe Driver in Dubai or Abu Dhabi? Our trusted Safe Driver service make sure you reach your target location safely and comfortably in the preminum of your own car. If you need a personal chauffeur after a night out, a business event, or airport transfers, our proffesional and licensed drivers are available 24/7 across the UAE.
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awesomedrivedubai · 5 days ago
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Effortless Intercity Travel: Hire a Driver‑Driven Car in Dubai
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 Or visit their website to learn more and reserve your ride.
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xoln04f1xo · 29 days ago
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Pairings: LN04 x Reader
Warnings: MDNI 18+, BDSM room, fingering, oral (F!Receiving), restraints, overstimulation, dirty talk, dom!lando x sub!reader, orgasm denial, mention of safe word, use of colour system
WC: 2.6k
Divider: @hyuneskkami
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The air in the driver room was thick with adrenaline, the scent of champagne and rubber still clinging to Lando's fireproofs. He tossed his gloves onto the sofa with a cocky grin, gold-rimmed trophy glinting on the table behind him like a second sun. "You were watching," he said without turning, voice low and teasing.
You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying not to stare at the way his curls were still damp with sweat. "You won Monaco, Norris. I'm pretty sure the whole world was watching."
"Yeah, but I was only looking for one face in the crowd."
You snorted, but your stomach fluttered. He turned to face you, eyes gleaming, cocky confidence slowly melting into something heavier. He looked like he wanted something - you - and that realisation hit you like a corner taken too fast.
"You think winning gives you permission to flirt shamelessly?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He stepped closer, the tension between you snapping taut. "I think winning gives me a reason to celebrate," he murmured. "And I would rather do it with you than a bottle of champagne."
You swallowed hard. "Lando..."
"Tell me to stop." His voice was a whisper now, close, intoxicating.
But you didn't. Because somewhere between the roar of the engines and the glitter of Monaco's streets, you'd stopped being just another team liaison, another face in the paddock. You were the person he looked at when the visor came up.
You reached for the zipper of his race suit, just enough to tug it down a few inches.
"You've got five minutes before PR come knocking." you said, voice steady, heart racing.
Lando's smirk turned downright wicked. "That's all I need."
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Lando's mouth crashed on yours before either of you could second-guess it.
It wasn't gentle.
There was no lean-in or nervous pause - just heat, all teeth and lips and the pent up energy of 78 laps and months of stolen glances. His hands cupped your jaw, calloused palms grounding you in the moment as you gripped the collar of his suit, half to steady yourself, half to pull him closer.
The world narrowed: the hum of the air conditioner, the faint beeping of telemetry left running in the background - and the way he kissed you like he'd been waiting all season for it.
"You taste like champagne," you muttered against his mouth.
He chuckles, breathless. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It's not."
You pushed him back gently until the back of his legs hit the bench. He sat with a grunt, eyes dark as they watched you step between his knees, fingers ghosting over the zipper of his race suit. His chest rose and fell fast, suit halfway down now, fireproofs clinging to his like a second skin.
"You're dangerous," he whispered, hands roaming your waist. "You come in here looking like that, say my name like that..."
"Yeah, well... I didn't think you'd actually say yes."
You smiled, slow and deliberate. "Then maybe you don't know me as well as you think."
His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you in closer. "I'm learning."
The door thudded once - loud, sudden - and both of you froze.
"Lando?" A voice. Zak. Fucking. Brown. You rolled your eyes and Lando giggled silently. "Sky wants one more quote before the top-three presser."
You didn't move. Neither did he.
"I'll be right there?" Lando called back, his voice only slightly strained.
Silence returned, except for you shallow breaths and his racing pulse where your hand still rested on his chest.
"You've got lip gloss on your jaw," you said softly.
He grinned, eyes gleaming. "Good, Let 'em wonder."
You leaned in one last time, brushing your lips against his ear. "Next time you win," you whispered, "I'm locking the door."
Then you turned, left him there in his half-undone race suit and stunned silence, the taste of you still fresh on his tongue and a wicked promise trailing behind.
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Later…
The door clicked shut behind you, and the silence in Lando's apartment was loaded - thick with something that had been simmering between you for months, now finally threatening to boil over.
Lando didn’t say a word.
He just took your hand and led you down the hall - not to the bedroom, not to the balcony with the sea view - but to the heavy, wine-red door at the far end of the corridor. You’d seen it before. Always closed. Never asked.
Tonight, he unlocked it.
The room was dim, cast in deep shadows and soft amber light from vintage wall sconces. It was spacious but intimate, lined with dark oak panels and velvet accents, cool metal glinting from the walls - restraints, chains, hooks you didn’t fully register before your pulse spiked.
Your throat went dry.
“You trust me?” Lando asked, voice low, serious now.
You met his eyes. “Yes.”
He nodded once, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Safe word?”
You exhaled. “Miami.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Predictable. I like it.”
Without another word, Lando stepped behind you, dragging his fingers over the zipper of your dress, down, slow, until it whispered open. His breath skimmed your shoulder as the fabric slipped from your skin, pooling silently at your feet.
“Stay still,” he said, and something in his tone made you obey instantly.
The click of a drawer opening. The soft rasp of leather. Then his hands - warm, steady - fastening soft cuffs around your wrists, buckling them with a practiced precision that had your knees threatening to give out.
You didn’t know whether it was the win, the power, or the raw, controlled hunger in his eyes - but this was not the grinning golden boy from the paddock.
This was Lando in his element.
The hours blurred after that - flushed skin, whispered orders, the leather bite of restraint contrasting with the drag of his hands, his mouth. Every inch of you learned what it meant to be unraveled and rebuilt by a man who’d just conquered Monaco and still had something left to prove.
He praised you like he’d praise a perfect lap. Whispered your name like a prayer and a promise. And when you finally collapsed against him - breathless, trembling, marked by him in all the right places - he kissed your temple and held you close.
“I told you I didn’t want champagne,” he murmured. “I wanted you.”
And damn if he didn’t take his victory like a man who meant it.
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Your wrists were still bound, but not harshly - padded leather cuffs tethered to the velvet-covered frame behind you, high above your head. Your toes barely touched the floor. Vulnerable, exposed. But never unsafe.
Lando stood in front of you, shirtless now, race-toned body bathed in warm, red-tinged light, his expression unreadable - a potent mix of reverence and raw intent.
He ran a hand slowly up your thigh, fingers ghosting the inside like he had all the time in the world. “Do you know what it did to me,” he said, voice a gravel-soft whisper, "seeing you in the garage after I won?"
You couldn’t answer. You were too breathless, too wrecked from the hours of teasing, restraint, and controlled denial. He’d touched you everywhere but where you needed most - until your body vibrated with tension.
"I was soaked in champagne, engine heat still humming in my chest," he continued, now dragging his lips along your jawline, "and all I could think about was this… getting you in here. Making you mine in every way I hadn’t yet."
He slid two fingers between your thighs, finally, and you gasped like you were coming up for air.
"Fuck," he breathed. "You’ve been waiting, haven’t you?"
You nodded desperately, back arching against the bonds. "Lando..."
"Uh uh." He pressed in slightly, but not enough. "Monaco winners don't take orders."
His mouth was on your chest before you could beg, tongue tracing circles, teeth nipping just enough to leave heat behind. He was relentless - not cruel, but calculating - taking you apart one sound, one broken moan at a time. You were past modesty now, past pride, You'd let him do anything.
“Look at you,” he murmured, finally sliding two fingers deep, slow, curling. “All this just for me.”
He didn’t stop. He didn’t let up. His free hand held your waist as he knelt in front of you, and when his mouth replaced his fingers, the sensation ripped through you so violently, you cried out - hips straining forward, arms pulling against the cuffs.
Over and over, he brought you to the edge - pulled you back - then pushed you further. Until your pleas became sobs of release, thighs shaking, the fire in your belly finally breaking open in a wave that made you see stars.
When he stood again, lips glistening, eyes dark with heat, you could barely breathe.
“I’m not done,” he said, voice rough now. “Get ready for round two.”
You hung there, limp in the cuffs, skin flushed and slick with sweat, lips parted as your chest heaved. Lando had edged you into oblivion, dragged pleasure out of you like it was a science - each orgasm coaxed or denied with cruel expertise.
He watched you now from the chaise across the room - shirtless, pants undone, the outline of his cock straining beneath his grey Calvin Kleins. His knuckles pressed against his mouth as he studied your shaking legs, the tremble in your core.
"Colour?" he asked darkly.
Your voice was hoarse. "Green."
"Good." He stood, slow and deliberate. "Because I'm just getting started."
You whimpered as he approached - you wanted it, needed it, but you were already past your limit. He knew that. And that was exactly the point.
"You begged so pretty," he whispered, brushing fingers between your thighs again. You flinched. He smirked. "Sensitive now, aren't we?"
The his hand slapped your inner thigh - not enough to hurt, just enough to make you jolt. "Answer me."
"Yes...fuck, yes, I'm...sensitive."
"Better." His voice dropped lower. "You don't cum again unless I say so."
Then he unbuckled his belt.
The sound alone had you clenching around nothing. He looped the belt through his hand, then slid it under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
"I want you to remember who you belong to when we go out for breakfast tomorrow with bruises on your hips and cum still dripping down your thighs."
Your breath hitched - half shock, half need.
"You like being used, don't you?" he asked.
“Yes.”
“You like being my celebration gift.”
“Yes, Lando.”
He didn't undress you completely - there was something primal in the way he kept you partially clothed, cuffs still on, legs spread just enough by a subtle hook at your ankle.
Then he stepped behind you.
You could feel the heat of him, his dick pressed against your ass. He didn't prep. He didn't ask again. He knew you were ready - he made you ready - and when he pushed into you, slow and deliberate, the stretch made your eyes roll back.
"Fuck," he growled into your ear. "So. Tight. You were made for this... made for me."
His hands gripped your hips, nails biting skin, and then he fucked you - no teasing now. No edging. Just a hard, brutal rhythm, every thrust taking the breath from your lungs.
You couldn't speak. Could barely think. The cuffs creaked with your movements as you braced yourself.
"You gonna fall apart for me babygirl?" he asked, teeth dragging your shoulder.
"Yes," you sobbed. "Please...let me."
He reached round to rub your swollen, aching clit again, and your body convulsed.
“No. Not yet.”
You cried out, body clenching, wave after wave crashing into a wall he wouldn’t let fall.
“Lando...”
“Don’t. You. Dare.”
The way he held you, the way he denied you - it wasn’t cruel, it was worship. In his mind, you were divine, and your ruin was a masterpiece he was building stroke by stroke.
And finally,
“Now.”
That one word broke you.
You shattered like glass, screaming, body pulsing around him as your orgasm tore through you so hard, you sobbed into the velvet restraints. He chased his own release seconds later, hips snapping into you with a grunt that sounded like your name.
When it was over, he caught you as you collapsed, unbuckling the cuffs, lifting you into his arms with shocking gentleness.
“You did so good,” he murmured, pressing kisses to your temple. “So fucking good for me.”
He wrapped you in one of his oversized hoodies and carried you to the bed, letting you melt against the sheets as the adrenaline drained from both your bodies.
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The silence that followed was full, heavy with exhaustion and something warmer - something softer.
Your breathing was shallow, skin still tingling from every place he'd touched you, every command he's whispered like silk over steel. But your mind had settled. Floating but not lost. Anchored.
By him.
Lando was already unbuckling the cuffs from your wrists, his fingers, gentle now - nothing like the firm authority he'd held earlier. He rubbed slow, soothing circles into your skin, like he was trying to erase any pressure, any ache.
"You okay?" he asked, voice hoarse, low.
You nodded, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Better than okay."
He smiled, brushing a kiss across you knuckles. "Colour?"
"Green."
That grin - the real one, boyish and bright, slipped back onto his face. "Atta girl."
He reached behind you for the plush robe draped on the back of a velvet chair, slipping it over your shoulders himself before wrapping you in his arms. He was warm, chest still rising quickly beneath you, but his touch was careful now, reverent.
"You did so good for me," he murmured, pressing his lips to your temple. "So fucking good."
Your throat tightened.
He guided you out of the room, one hand firm on your lower back, like he needed to keep touching you - not possessively, just... to make sure you were still there. Still his.
The ensuite bathroom was already fogged with steam, the tub filling with lavender-scented water. Candles flickered on the edge - clearly lit before you'd even entered the room.
You gave him a look. "Did you plan the after more than the... during?"
He smirked, peeing off his shirt. "I'm a Formula 1 driver, baby. I think about the whole race - not just the start."
You rolled your eyes and let him help your into the tub. The hot water soothed every ache, and as he slid in behind you, pulling you gently between his legs, you let your body fully relax for the first time in hours.
His hands stroked over your arms underwater, slow and rhythmic. You rested your head back against his shoulder.
"I needed that," you whispered. "Not just the sex. All of it. The trust. The way you looked at me."
He kissed the top of your head. "I've been waiting to give you that since Singapore."
The two of you soaked in silence, fingers tangled, hearts slowly syncing up.
And when he dried you off after, dressed you in one of his shirts, and tucked you into his bed with your legs tangled in his - you knew.
This wasn't just a post-win indulgence.
This was something real. And he wasn't letting go.
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ari-ana-bel-la · 3 months ago
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Hi my love please please please could you write for any driver but preferably Charles or George with a daughter who was born really early and with a heart condition so they were super worried but once she’s older (like 15) she’s really sporty but she still like faints sometimes and gets really sick and dizzy and just her dad and honorary uncles helping her out a couple times in the paddock cos their all so used to it
Stronger than you think
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George had always known he would be a protective dad. He wasn’t ashamed of it. From the moment Yn came into the world too early, too fragile, with a heart condition that had left him and Carmen sleepless for weeks on end, he had promised himself he’d always be there.
And he had been. Every hospital visit, every late-night fever, every dizzy spell—he was there, holding her hand, reassuring her, sometimes pretending he wasn’t terrified himself.
Yn was fifteen now, and she was stubborn. She had fallen in love with tennis when she was ten, and despite everything—the fainting, the exhaustion, the doctor’s warnings that she had to be careful—she refused to give up.
George admired that about her. He also hated it. Because every time she stepped onto the court, he worried. Every time she insisted she was fine, he doubted it. And every time she got dizzy, he was reminded that his baby girl was still fragile, no matter how strong she tried to be.
Which was exactly why he was on edge every time she joined him at a race weekend. The heat, the long walks, the excitement—it was a recipe for disaster. And George, along with her honorary uncles, had long perfected the art of handling it when things went south.
It happened in Saudi-Arabia.
Yn had been fine all morning, sipping on the electrolyte drink her mom had packed, chatting with Lando about some ridiculous show they were both watching. George had kept an eye on her, as he always did, but she looked good. Healthy.
That lasted until just before qualifying.
George was getting ready to leave the hospitality area when he caught Alex’s eyes widen slightly, glancing toward Yn.
“Uh, mate?” Alex’s voice was calm but urgent.
George turned and saw it immediately. Yn had gone pale—too pale. Her hands gripped the counter, her breathing quickening.
“Yn,” George was at her side in a second, his hands on her arms. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”
Yn squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. “Dizzy,” she whispered.
Alex had already moved, pulling a chair over. “Here, sit down.”
George guided her onto the chair as Lando appeared, kneeling in front of her. “Did you drink enough?” Lando asked, voice softer than usual.
“She did,” George answered for her, brushing a few damp strands of hair from her forehead. “It’s just the heat, probably. You’re okay, love, just breathe.”
Yn nodded, gripping his arm as if grounding herself. “Sorry,” she muttered.
Lando scoffed. “Don’t be dumb. It’s fine.”
Alex reappeared with a cold towel, pressing it against the back of her neck. “You’re doing great, kid.”
Yn huffed a weak laugh. “I hate this.”
George’s heart clenched. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Just let it pass.”
Yn leaned against him, and George felt the tension in his chest loosen slightly when her breathing evened out. It was always like this—a scare, a moment of helplessness, and then she’d be fine again.
But that never made it easier.
It was Saturday in Silverstone when it happened again.
Yn had been feeling good that morning—excited even. Charles had promised to take her to the Ferrari garage and show her the car up close, and she had been buzzing about it for hours.
But excitement, George had learned, could be just as dangerous as exhaustion.
They were halfway through the tour when Charles suddenly reached out, catching Yn’s arm as she swayed slightly.
“Woah,” Charles steadied her, his grip firm but gentle. “Yn, you okay?”
Yn blinked rapidly, exhaling sharply. “Uh. No. Not really.”
George had been walking just a few steps behind, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw her expression.
Charles didn’t hesitate. “Come, sit down.”
He led her to a small bench, guiding her down as George rushed over.
Yn let out a shaky laugh. “This is so embarrassing.”
George crouched in front of her, checking her pulse. “You feeling faint?”
Yn nodded. “Yeah. A little.”
Charles had already grabbed a bottle of water, twisting off the cap and handing it to her. “Sip this. Slowly.”
George exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “This keeps happening,” he muttered.
Charles patted his shoulder. “She’s okay.”
Yn made a face. “I don’t feel okay.”
Charles chuckled. “I know, but you will.”
They stayed there for a few more minutes, Charles and George keeping a careful watch over her. Eventually, the color returned to her face, and she sighed, leaning against her dad’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
George kissed the top of her head. “Stop apologizing, love.”
Charles grinned. “Yeah, you’re just keeping us on our toes.”
Yn groaned. “I hate being the fragile one.”
George’s grip on her tightened slightly. “You’re not fragile,” he said. “You’re stronger than anyone I know.”
She looked up at him, eyes bright despite the exhaustion. “Really?”
George smiled. “Really.”
It was the summer break, and George had thought Yn would get a much-needed rest.
But no. She had been training for an upcoming tennis tournament, and by the time she arrived at the next race weekend, she was already drained.
It didn’t take long for Lando to notice.
“Alright, what’s up with you?” he asked after she sat down with a little too much effort.
Yn blinked at him. “Nothing?”
Lando raised a brow. “Right. And I’m an astronaut.”
Yn rolled her eyes. “I’m just tired.”
Lando turned to George, who sighed. “She’s been pushing herself too hard.”
Yn scoffed. “I have not.”
Lando narrowed his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Yn groaned, rubbing her temples. “Can you guys stop treating me like I’m made of glass?”
Lando grinned. “Never.”
Yn groaned louder, but before she could argue more, Lando pulled out his phone.
“Okay, we’re gonna play a game,” he announced.
Yn blinked. “What?”
“A game,” Lando repeated. “Distraction tactics. I ask you questions, you answer them. No thinking too hard.”
Yn sighed. “Fine.”
Lando smirked. “Alright, what’s the worst movie you’ve ever seen?”
Yn frowned. “Uh. That one you made me watch. The one about the talking dog.”
Lando gasped dramatically. “That movie is a masterpiece!”
George chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s right, mate. It was terrible.”
Yn grinned. “See?”
Lando pretended to look offended. “Unbelievable.”
Yn laughed, and for a moment, she looked like she wasn’t exhausted. And that was all Lando needed.
George sent him a grateful look. Lando just shrugged.
This was their routine. And they were damn good at it.
That night, after the race, George found Yn sitting outside, staring at the stars.
He sat beside her, nudging her knee with his. “What’s on your mind?”
Yn sighed. “I just… hate that this keeps happening.”
George stayed quiet, letting her speak.
“I hate that I still faint. I hate that I still get dizzy. I hate that everyone worries about me.” She exhaled, eyes glassy. “I just wanna be normal.”
George’s heart ached. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Yn, listen to me. You are normal. And you’re also strong. And brave. And kind. And stubborn as hell.”
Yn snorted. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”
George smiled. “It is.”
She leaned against him. “Thanks, Dad.”
George kissed her hair. “Always, sweetheart.”
And he meant it. No matter how many times she fainted, no matter how many times she got sick—he would always be there. Because that’s what fathers did.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: Hey loves! I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.
-🩷🎀
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