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spicyclover · 3 days

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No one can hurt you

Summary : A dinner of revelation and tragedy.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

DISCLAIMER : Rewrite and final version of "All the things you said" | Netflix show: One Day at the Time | Elena’s Story part | Season 3, ep 2. WARNING: mention of physical and verbal aggression! Su*c*de WARNING !R@PE! WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE

DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts

If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.

The Monaco Grand Prix is in a few days and you will be slowly preparing for tonight’s dinner. Charles decided to organize a small evening for the pilots and their respective companions. It is in a magnificent hotel overlooking the sea that Charles booked the room and privatized the chef of the restaurant. The luxurious life of Monaco in its greatest fullness, you are always amazed by all the secrets that this small principality shelters.

You were third-wheeling your best friend Heidi to that party. She and Daniel invited you after running into you in the afternoon at the marina. Since you were little you know most of the pilots. So you are happy to have been invited to celebrate this new year of racing in Monaco with them. The evening was going well until the subject of the conversation crumbled into something darker.

“I gotta admit, I’m getting kind of confused.” Ends up saying, Checo rubbing his nose with his glass.

“Oh, my god, me too. What if someone says, “I am not sleeping with you tonight?” And then... an hour later, they’re like, “Eh, fine.” What’s that?” Ask Lando, completely confused.

“Unsurprising,” Pierre whispers under his breath, laughing. You laugh at with him, ignoring Lando's thunder.

“How many women have said, “Eh, fine”?” Questions Heidi sarcastically.

“Yeah, I got to make some calls.”

“Now I’m perplexed.” Says Max trying to make sense of everything he heard.

“I know. It’s confusing. I hate to admit it, but I feel sorry for men. This consent thing is tricky.” Kelly responded and gets up to pour herself more wine.

“No.” You exclaim annoyed by her comment. “Women always blame themselves, and then the man never has to take responsibility. During rape prevention week at the university, all the signs are aimed at women. “Girls, don’t dress provocatively. Girls, don’t walk alone.” How about, “Hey, guys, don’t rape.”" You look up at Pierre knowing perfectly it will trigger him.

“Oh, my god, why are we talking about that? I took a couple pictures as a joke, and Cece thought it was funny.” Pierre exclaims as he gets up from his chair to get himself another beer at the bar.

“Did she? Or did she feel like she had to laugh ‘cause she doesn’t know what else to do with your hand on her boob?” Everyone around the table falls silent and waits. You get up from your chair and walk you way to Pierre.

“Ok, sweetie, take it easy.” Adds Sebastian taking your arm and tries to calm the conversation.

“No. He thinks what he did is cute. You are basically a predator.” You accuse, pointing your finger at him.

“You’re basically a psycho.” Pierre replies, knowing full well it will trigger you.

“Good, call me crazy for defending a woman’s right not to be groped!”

“You’re mad ‘cause the internet told you to be. You don’t know my life or even leave this apartment!” Pierre screams as he approaches you.

“Because of guys like you!” You answer with the same intonation.

“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, taking your hand for you to sit down.

You and Charles are special. You’ve been like ass and shirt since childhood. You’ve known him since you were six. For as long as you can remember, Charles has always been one of your dearest childhood friends. You have shared so much together. No one has ever made you vibrate like he does. Usually his simple touch makes you calmer and reassuring. But you are no longer able to appreciate this contact that you cherish so much.

“You want to know?” You said, scoffing. “Okay. A couple of weeks ago, Heidi and I were coming home from the movies, and we were holding hands. And we noticed these guys staring at us, and then we changed the sidewalks , and they followed us.” You speak with tears in your eyes.

“What?” Sebastian says concerned in his voice. His turn your body to him.

“Yes. And they were going, “Come one, you guys, kiss. We really wanna see it. Just kiss.” They thought that was really funny, too.” You continue telling while drinking a sip of your glass.

“It was actually terrifying.” Ends up adding Heidi after Daniel stares at her intently.

“It was terrifying. And then we finally lost them in a crowd and ran home...” You finish in a huff trying to hold back your tears. Your hand hides your eyes and you try at best to find your calm.

Charles, in his divine goodness, hastens to extinguish you warmly. At first, his touch hurts you and you have only one desire to remove his hands from your dirty body. Yet you cling to him like a lifeline. Deep down, you know it's time. Time to tell what happened that night, a year ago. Nobody dares to speak at your revelation and everyone feels guilty for not knowing sooner.

“Umm... Last year after the Monaco Grand Prix. Lance Stroll raped me. He was my friend, and he raped me in my own bedroom. And then, he threatened me not to tell anyone... but. Why did he do this?” You ask breaking down in tears. “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what... I feel.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sebastian asks tenderly, approaching you rubbing his hand on your back.

“I tried, but... nobody listened to me.” You respond looking at Lando through your tears. Your eyes pierce Lando’s being. He doesn’t know where to put himself and his cheeks become red. He implores you to keep your mouth shut, but the situation no longer belongs to you. You feel the body of Charles being redeemed against yours and you notice that he followed your gaze.

“You knew.” He accuses Lando turning his attention abruptly towards him.

“I... I.” He tries to defend himself. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, you think she knew what to do either.” He yells, getting up from his chair and grabbing him by the collar.

“Charles, let him go!” Orders Carlos.

“You let her suffer silently when you knew what he did to her. I thought you were better than this. T’es qu’une grosse merde.” You’re a piece of shit

“Oh please, like you would have done something? We all know he’s untouchable and has done it before.” Admitted Lando, pushing Charles away.

“What?” Sebastian speaks up. This is the first time he has heard this from his former teammate. He never thought he would ever see Lance in this light.

“Nothing.”

“It’s nothing? He raped her, and now other girls too?” Charles advances again, preventing him from fleeing the situation.

“Don't play fouls, Charles. You were in his hotel room at the party in Abu Dhabi last year, and I quite remember your hands on some teenage girls, groping them.” He said suddenly, pushing Charles out of his way again.

“What?” You speak up, troubled by Lando's affirmation.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Charles turns to you, trying to explain himself. You get up from your chair and walk back as you see him approach.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, pushing him away. “Did you do it?”

“I... It’s not the same thing.” He justified himself.

“Yes. It actually is. Did you grope those teenage girls or worse raped them?” You ask scandalized. Charles, your best friend, your confidant, the one you most trust is capable of the same thing as the person who hurt you the most.

“Oui,” he admits in a small voice. “I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to? What the fuck, Charles. What's wrong with you all?” You yell, taking your stuff and leaving as fast as possible.

The thought of all this happening to so many more makes you sick. How could nobody speak up about this? You walk down the hotel hallway. You can hear footsteps and Charles's voice telling you to come back. When you get to the lobby, you ask for a taxi home. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you look at him as you push the door out.

You take your taxi and give him your address. All you want right now is a shower. A warm and reassuring shower. To pull away all those memories and thoughts. You want to scream to the world. You want to smash your entire apartment down. You want to stay in bed for the rest of your life. You want to jump off the roof. You want to cut yourself so that the pain stops. You want to be set free.

You arrive at the complex. Your dark thought runs in circles in your head. Like a robot, you open the door, press the elevator, and finally unlock your apartment. You let your essentials fall on the ground with your bag and coat. Like a machine, you take your shoes off and open the lights.

The sight of your home, which does not feel like home anymore. Since Lance pushes himself into you while you try to make him go away, this place hasn’t felt like home. You can’t even sleep in your own bed anymore. No matter how many times you clean the sheets, change the bed. This memory comes running back into your mind. Invade you like a parasite.

You go to the bathroom and open the valve to fill the bathtub. You watch the water. You can hear your phone blowing up with notifications and calls. “Why does this world have to be this cruel?” You think, taking your clothes off.

Your body envelops itself in the heat of the water, and you close your eyes. Your body slips in the bath. You head underwater. You hear focusing on your heart bit. You enjoy this moment of quietness and solitude.

That’s it. You feel alone since that night he took your joy, your life, yourself.

You can feel the water pressure you to gasp for air. Your head starts popping your blood. Your heart rises to find oxygen. You struggle. You have been struggling this long. You want to go, and you want to let go.

You let the water go in, and suddenly, all the scary parts disappear. The explosion in your head fades away, and you’re not scared anymore. You find it relatively peaceful. Very peaceful.

Strangely, you’re dreaming. Him with you. On a boat. Feeling the breeze in your hair. The warm sun on your skin. His light touches on your thigh. His breath on your neck. His lips are on your breast. You’re daydreaming. Are you? Is your mind trying to ease the pain in your heart? Is it even the day?

Then. You open your eyes. You try to scream, but your head is under the water. You feel weak but strong. Sick but healthy. Chaos but at peace. You can feel your body wiggling, but your mind is different. No one can hurt you now. Quietly, your eyelids become heavy again, and what a moment ago hurt you the most now makes you feel good.

The water fills your lungs, and you sink more and more into the darkness. Nobody seems to pull you up. The seconds pass, but you no longer find the courage to go out. The bathtub disappears, and you find yourself in the sea. In a warm and welcoming sea; The Mediterranean. An infinity of blue. An infinity of sweetness. The noises are only deaf sounds, and you feel your brain more and more calm. The sun’s rays pass through the water, and you move further and further away from it. Your eyelids become more and more stretched.

Then you see beautiful blue eyes through the water. No fair. You can’t reach them but can’t stop staring at those ocean-blue eyes. Suddenly, you feel scared. Scared to leave those ocean eyes. You’re afraid, and you’re drowning under the waves of words you haven’t said to them, to you.

You try to fight back this peaceful state, but darkness is an easier path than light. Suddenly the silence suffocates you, and you miss the sound surrounding you.

Then comes the darkness.

When you leave the apartment, Sebastian watches Charles running after you. He can’t believe what has happened. He doesn’t want to consider it. How could he? He sees and goes to the door, and Charles is defeated on the ground. He passes by without a look and walk his way to the lobby.

You have always been a fragile child. Even when you were a child. You were always this little fragile and precious porcelain doll. You’ve never been afraid of anything growing up. Sebastian always loved to see you grow up with him. Despite your age difference, he always considered you his little sister. The little one who needs to be protected from everything and at any cost. Knowing that you are suffering so much hurts him.

In the hallway, the walk seems long and endless, his thoughts wandering toward your shared memories. He remembers many summers spent in the countryside. At your grandparents' meadow, there was a vast field with a few horses grazing on the fresh grass. He remembers that beautiful-eyed little girl running in his direction.

You had dirt all over your clothes. Your hair was braided, and he still remembers the grass sticking in it. He remembers your laughter, which lit up the prairie thousands of miles away. Hearing you laugh has always been his favourite thing about you. Lost, it’s only when the doors block his way out that he remembers he has to go looking for you. He runs through the night towards your apartment.

Charles is devastated. Everything he tried to build with you has just broken in a moment. He feels lonely and ashamed. He wants you to know how much he loves you. How much you mean to him. How much you have become the center of his universe.

Before you, there was racing, and that was it. When you became something more his life change. It was as if you had lit the dormant fire in him. You have extinguished the flame since the death of his best companion, his father. You have given meaning to this quest. The stakes are not won but won for you.

He still remembers the first time he took you to his garage. You were with Sebastian. He was showing you around the Ferrari factory, showing you the different facilities, different parts. You were so captivated by his words, and your eyes were shining like stars in the sky.

He remembers the moment when your eyes landed on him. The smile you had, and the dress you wore and the clip in your hair. He counts you. Unable to say anything. Captivated by your beauty.

“Hi, Charlie.” You said in your beautiful voice.

He stuttered and blushed heavily. You laughed gently before putting your lips on each of his cheeks. He likes a kiss, and no, he likes your kisses.

A hand falls on his shoulder, and he sees Pierre. Tears in his eyes prevent him from distinguishing himself perfectly, but he recognizes his friend.

“Don’t worry. She’ll come back.” He says softly. Taking him by the shoulders to lift him up and bring him back to the room.

The others are still there. Confused and shaken, no one speaks. Silence reigns in the room, and no one knows what to say. Charles opens the patio door and leaves the fresh night air in the room. The city slowly began to calm down, and he heard the waves regularly hitting the harbour.

Daniel gets up and gets rid of the table. Putting this party away may make us forget the events that occurred. Heidi and Kelly help him while the others put orders in the room. No one dares to go to see Charles.

The hour passes quickly, and some decide to leave. They quickly greet the last remaining. Pierre observes his friend, who has not moved, and still looks at the sea.

It’s only when Charles' phone starts ringing that he looks away. He calmly enters the room and answers.

“Hello?”

You always liked the fields. You always loved hiding in the big wheat fields surrounding your grandparents' house when you were little. This stretch of yellow was as far as the eye could see. You liked feeling the stems between your fingers, the seeds melting to your touch, and the particular smell of wheat.

You remember a hot summer day. Lying on a tablecloth after a picnic, nature calms by this overwhelming heat, especially the calm of this yellow and green nature. You remember the farmer who held the farm. You spent days watching him working. Helping him through the mould. Watching him turn wheat powder into cereal. You remember this great man, always with a grain of wheat in his mouth that was constantly chewing.

You remember the hum that bees made at work. From wheat to wheat, pollen is harvested. You remember the nests in the hives that you created one summer. Your grandfather, with his jumpsuit, would go every morning and inspect the nests, and you loved watching him do it. You also loved to taste honey with each harvest. Honey is good. It’s sweet. It’s sweet. It’s wild.

You remember Sebastian. His blond hair, his smile, the sound of his kart engine. Many hours passed in his company at the track with his dad. You remember your big brother, following him and Sebastian all day long, like the annoying little sister you were. You remember falling from a tree after the boys thought it was a great idea to climb it. You see your brother jumping down the tree to get to you and hear Sebastian running back to the house to get help. You spent the night at the hospital. You broke your arms that summer, and you had a commotion. Your parents were furious and punished your brother for the rest of the vacation.

You remember your first winter in the mountains. Mornings skiing, and afternoons making snowmen, eating maple syrup, drinking hot chocolate, just playing in the snow. See your happy brother’s face after he managed to get the last pancake.

You remember Sebastian’s victories. To see him move up from category to category. You remember his encounter with Hanna. You love Hanna. She is so sweet and kind. You remember your great jealousy towards her from the height of your twelve years. She who steals your Sebastian. She who steals your second brother. Oh yes, you were jealous, but she knew how to win your heart, and after all, she stayed.

You remember the Ferrari years. Everyone was in red. You saw the world with red glasses. Red like love. Red like anger. Red as the colour. Red as blood. It’s kind of at this time, when adolescence really starts that you start to change. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, you were no longer the wise little girl your parents admired and your brother despised. No, you grew up making mistakes, a lot of mistakes, until you met him.

Him. The golden boy. The one destined to be great.

You remember his perfume, his smell, his laughter, his mimics, his way of speaking, his way of being and his way of simply being. He intimidated you so much; this guy was destined for something big. Whereas you, we never expected much from you besides being pretty, lovely, not disturbing, quiet, and reserved.

Quiet.

Reserved.

Pretty.

In those words, your brain falls into the dark side of your life. The darkened side of time. Painful and unhappy memories. The memories of him, the one who once was your best friend. He who once was your confidant. He who once saw fit to r*pe you.

To find you after the Grand Prix, in your apartment, in your house, in your home. To be a little too drunk, surely. To hold you firmly. To put his lips on yours. To hold your wrists. To put all his weight on your body. To force you into bed. To beg him to stop. To cry in silence. To feel it in you. To feel dirty. To feel unloved.

To feel alone, so lonely, too lonely.

To find yourself curled up in a ball in a corner. To wait until morning for him to leave. To want to end your life. To end your nights. To seek help. To be abandoned. To be alone. To be dirty. To be silent. To be reserved. To be pretty.

To be pretty.

To be.

Silent is all you ask for.

It’s been a long night. The hours have been staggering. The noises of monitors, nurses, doctors, and ambulances invade their ears. No one speaks, and no one dares speak. It is as if a white veil covers the weighing atmosphere and borrows all those present.

The wait is long, too long. They wait patiently for the outcome of this atrocious night, something that does not happen. Sebastian holds his head in his hands, tears have finished flowing, but his eyes are still red. He feels bad. He feels immense guilt. This mixture of shame, sadness, contempt and anger is eating him increasingly as the hours pass and pass before his eyes. He blames himself for not coming sooner. He blames himself for not holding you back. He blames himself for not seeing. He blames himself.

Full of life and ardour, this little girl was smothered under this icy water. Frozen in time. Only the repetitive sound of drops escaping from the pipe disrupted this freezing scene. She hides all her problems behind her smile. Never in his life has he thought of having this vision of you. This pure horror vision of an act yet so courageous. Because it takes courage to think about yourself before thinking about others. It takes courage to put yourself forward and not others. It takes courage to achieve what others have likely failed to achieve.

The roar of the machines stifled Charles. He closed his ears in the hope of silencing them. To see you with your tubes hanging around you, in you. On this hospital bed, this white bed, this room that feels the end. Eyes wet, Charles looks at your pale, serene face. The doctor’s words are dry and not encouraging. Your parents arrive a few hours later, a flight later. They cry. Your brother has tears in his eyes. Sebastian collapses in a corner. Hanna is there; a veil of sadness covers his eyes. Heidi cries in the arms of Daniel, who looks again in the eyes of Charles. Charles holds your hand, your hand. Your hands are cold, frozen by the consequences. Lando doesn’t dare to come in. He feels guilty because he refused to believe you, to reach out to you, see you, and see your distress. He preferred to become blind rather than awake. It haunts him.

Charles, sitting next to you, is watching people walk by. To say goodbye to you, goodbye, forever. He doesn’t want to. He can’t. You’re still breathing. Your heart is still beating. So why do you have to leave? Why did you choose to go?

“Why?” He mumbles one more time, his head against your ear. “Why are you not fighting?”

“Cha... we have to go.”

“No... I-I-I can’t. I can’t leave her.” His voice breaks in a sob.

“Charles,” Pierre says, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. “Let her go.”

“No...” Charles pushes him away, gripping your hand tighter. “She’s going to survive. She’s going to live. She has to live. You have to live.” He prays, kissing your cold skin.

Pierre sight and get out of the room. His family, her family, his friends, and her friends are here waiting for him. The visiting hours are almost over. Everyone wants to go back to their house and sleep a bit. They haven’t slept all night. Charles hasn’t slept all night. Pascale enters the room quietly. Staring at his son.

“Charles. We need to let her rest. Will come back in the morning, d’accord mon bébé?” She says, taking him in her arm.

He acquires at her request despite himself. Unable to fight anymore, fatigue slowly eats him away, and he knows that he is of no help if he is exhausted. He leaves the room not without a last kiss, a last look, a last goodbye.

On the following day, Charles came. Staying for hours next to you. Stroking your hair, mumbling your name, praying for you to wake up. He can't take you out of his brain. He can't take you out of him. You're haunting him. We realize how important it is in our life when we lose someone we take for granted. Charles looks at you as a friend until he realizes he loves you. Is it too late? Were you supposed to be?

Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.

The doctors are not really optimistic about your recovery. Your body is tired. Your mind is exhausted. They did all they could do. All we have to do is wait. Wait for you to come back. Wait for you to fight for your life. How could you fight if you're not even awake? It's painful.

Strangely enough, he came. The rapist. The abomination of your life. You came late at night when everyone left. He felt bad. "It's too late to feel bad," you think when you feel his hand and you. You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing. He left shortly after. Looking at you one last time. Looking at what he did to you. You hear from Lando a few days later that he got arrested. Other girls spoke, and there were enough accusations to start a trial. Even more strange, it did nothing to you. Well, how could you feel? When he toked everything you got and smashed it in a million pieces?

Sometimes, you can feel the warmth of the afterlife tingling your skin. You feel it right near you, calling you. Calling you to answer the call. You want to feel this feeling of peace, this quietness. You don't know how to feel. You just want to float. You forgot how to be happy. How to be. Why fight if you may never find yourself again? What were you made for? You wonder to yourself.

Time flies. A couple of weeks passed. You made some improvements for the doctors to feel optimistic for you to wake up eventually. You're stabilized by all those machines. Your parent finally arrived a few days after you were admitted. You can feel your mother's tears on your cold hands and the soft kisses of your father on your forehead. You can smell the sunflower Heidi brought you every time she comes to see you. Sometimes you want to react. To show her you listen. But you can't. Or you don't want?

The feeling of loneliness passed. You can see now how much you're loved. How they love you. You love to hear Arthur talking about your favourite series. You love to hear Sebastian remembering childhood moments whenever he found the courage to come. You love to listen to your mom singing your favourite songs. You love to hear Daniel telling dad jokes, hoping you'll smile in your sleep. You love hearing Lando talking about his latest Quadrant adventures or Twitch lives. You love to listen to Charles saying how much he loves you. How much his life is plain without you. You can't imagine somebody else cared so much about you.

That makes you cry. You can't show them you can hear. You can't show them you love them too. You can't show them how grateful you are or will be. More time passed, and the more you could slowly feel you were losing yourself. All you need to do is happen your eyes, but for some reason, it seems an impossible task to do.

"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.

"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?

"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."

"Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."

You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.

"One, you will get a major in architecture."

"Two, you can drive an F1 car."

"Three, you can be happy again."

"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."

"Six, I will fight for my life."

At this, though, he feels darkness rising upon you. Everything fades away slowly. You can hear the constant beep of the machines around you. You can feel Charles's hands against yours. You can smell the hospital room you're in. You can see the light shutters again you close your eyes.

Then... you breathe.

Feeling the grass on your feet. The autumn breeze cools down your spine. For the first time, you appreciate being alive. To fill your lungs with air, to hear the water crash against the rocks, to feel the sun warm up your skin, and to taste food again.

You feel a hand around your waist, and Charles brings you closer to him. He sticks you to his bare chest. He holds you firmly for fear that you will disappear again. It makes you smile to see him so loving, so gentle, and so attentive. You turn your gaze from the blue horizon to meet his emerald eyes. He smiles tenderly. His eyes sparkle with a thousand lights when you return his smile. You hold these eyes a few moments before you look wandering towards his lips.

If only it could be true.

If only you could be with him.

______________________________________________________________

Hi! Hope you enjoy this final version of the story. It took me sometimes to get back to writing but I'm getting there. I know some of you really like it and it's fill my heart with joy <3

Tag List : tyna-19 dessxoxsworld ynbutbetter alexander-hamilhoe honethatty12 janeholt3 mloyer karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg laura-naruto-fan1998

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #charles #charles leclerc sad #charles leclerc x you

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spicyclover · 4 days

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You can make the whole place shimmer

Summary : Shimmer beauty or shimmer charms?

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Some nights, you enjoy putting glitters on your girls night out. You apply sequin on your hair. It makes your hair shine in an all different way at the club, and Lando loves it. He loves to see them reflect the neon on your way to the party or the light in the room. It makes your face shine. You're like a twinkling star. The brightest, he'll say.

Tonight is not different. On the dance floor, your glitters shine through the night and Lando spots you in the crowd. You dance around on the floor surrounded by your friends. With your hands in the air, you no longer care about what's around you. You feel the music running through your veins.

That's how he fell in love with you and your glitter. Every Saturday evening, around midnight, you arrive surrounded by your friends ready to have a good night. The night passes, and the following week you do it, all over again. The same glitter in your hair, and you smile even bigger than last time.

That night, he decided to talk to you. You, this beautiful beaming creature, it’s tonight. He is prepared. His sentences are ready and after putting a drop of perfume on his chest again. He goes out in the streets of Monaco. As always, you’re here. More beautiful than ever. Your drink in your hand, you laugh at a joke that a stranger has whispered in your ear.

Lando’s confidence crumbles for a moment and he almost gives up approaching you. But your eyes cross. Your piercing eyes implore his to come and help you get rid of this troublesome intruder. The next thing you know, he’s next to you. Hand on your hip and he pushes the man away with one hand.

"Hey Shimmer," he says his mouth close to your ear. He gave you this nickname the first night you met, a few weeks ago when your friend dragged you to go to the VIP section, and meet the drivers after the Monaco Grand Prix.

"Hello, Lan." You laugh as you make your way at the bar. "Thanks for the save. I wasn't getting out of his sight alone."

"I love being your knight in a shining armor." He says while bulging his chest with pride.

"Rather in linen shirt and savage perfume." You made fun of him for a second. His gaze brings you to your senses and you become more serious. "Thank you. Really."

You put your hand delicately on his jaw. Lando’s heart is pounding and you smile tenderly. You breathe deeply before closing the gap between you two. You softly kisses him. Lando freezes on the spot. After all this time, he dreamed of this moment and it finally arrives. You giggled nicely as you pull away, and you smiled at him. His cheeks were on fire and his lips now carried some of your glitter.

"Breath."

"You took my breath away shimmer." He says finally coming back to himself. He smiles from ear to ear and you can see his face light up as he looks at you again. "Well, I guess I don't need word anymore." He grabs your face in his hand and pull you back for another kiss, a real one this time.

You’re not blind, and you know he’s attracted to you for quite some time now. After all, you’ve been coming to see him for several Saturdays.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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spicyclover · 5 months

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Moral of the Story

Summary: The story of your breakup.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Do you remember when we painted your house like my grandparents did?

I spent two and a half years with a man I loved so much. For several months, you offered me to move in with you and one day, I took my courage with both hands, and I said: "Ok, I’m coming."

I'm foolish...

We had a long-distance relationship, and I visited you two weeks before giving my notice to my landlord. We made love, we said words of love, and the next day, I received an email of ten lines. With spelling mistakes on every line. Which you told me that you no longer wanted to live with me but that you no longer wanted to continue this relationship with me.

The next day, you emailed me again. What a literary man for someone who is dyslexic. You said you were eager to see me again and evoke memories together while laughing. I do have a good sense of humour...

"Do you remember when you told me you wanted kids with me? And three weeks later, you left me by email. Wasn't it funny?"

You left me a good month in sadness before I received, in utter nothingness, a call from you. My heart capsized, and I had a glimmer of hope in my eyes. I felt my tears weren’t in vain, and you realized we were right. Your eyes opened one morning, and the empty side of the bed seemed unbearable to you. My absence at your side seemed impossible, so you had to contact me. What a disappointment when you asked me to come and pick up the unfortunate stuff that I had the misfortune of leaving behind.

My voice broke, and I hung up. I wasn’t able to get out of my house that day. I stayed stuck in my duvet to listen and re-listen to videos of us. Your memory makes me cry. I can't accept this new reality. The man I loved no longer loves me.

It’s tough for me to stay positive in this period. Nothing amuses me, nothing makes me laugh, nothing exciting for me. I'm empty, empty of love, empty of joy, empty of you.

"I miss him a lot," I told my best friend on the phone. "I miss our privacy. Enormously. It’s physical as well as psychological. I miss sex a lot. I miss hugs a lot. I miss kissing a lot. I miss falling asleep next to him at night." My voice breaks, and I hold my tears. "Waking up to his caresses and kisses. It’s really hard..."

My stomach hurts. It burns my skin. It hurts my heart. I'm afraid that everything I've accomplished for myself will disappear with you. Never in my life have I imagined being dependent on someone, yet every time I take the time to think, you are the first person that comes to mind. I feel trapped in your imprint, the mark you made on my life and my heart. I get up every morning, hoping to see you walk through the door, even after a month.

It made me realize that no one on this planet loves me for who I am.

At the beginning of this ordeal, I saw that you had already found comfort in the arms of another girl. You were parading her in front of the cameras like our breakup didn’t even happen, like I never happened. It put the knife in the gaping wound of my heart.

Were we just a playdate?

Is this the moral of my story?

"Young people fall in love. With the wrong people, sometimes."

Were you just a mistake?

Well Esteban, this letter is for you. Written in my tears and sadness. I'm done crying over you. It's been six months and I'm ready to live again. I hope you'll treat her better, because it's funny how a memory turns into a bad dream...

Blindsided.

With hates,

Y/n.

#esteban ocon #esteban ocon x reader #esteban ocon imagine #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 sad

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spicyclover · 5 months

Text

Where the bees make honey

Summary: A snowstorm can lead to a lot of things...

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Living in Finland comes with positive and negative sides. Wonderful summers but long winters. In your backyard, you have a bee hotel. We’re glad you have been cultivating honey for the past three years. Valterri built it for your birthday; since then, you haven’t stopped caring for it. You love that you can make batches of honey, and he gets to give them to some of his coworkers.

It’s not much, but you love him for doing this with you. He always asks for the bees' health, even when away. But coming back from Abu Dhabi, a massive snowstorm completely covered the country with eternal white. You arrived home as best you could. But the hive was destroyed in the snowstorm. Usually, you put the hive in the greenhouse that way; it is protected, but you rush out of the house to go to the airport and forget.

It breaks your heart when, the following day, you check on it, and most of the bees are dead on the snowy ground. You search for the rest of the colony; thankfully, the queen is intact. You pick up some still alive and take them to the greenhouse, where a small in-building bee hotel is in a corner. Valterri helps you and shovels the rest of the hive to search for more.

It took you the day before settling down in the living room. You’re still upset by yourself. You knew a storm was coming, and yet you forgot.

“Kultaseni, we did the best we could.” He says, giving you a beer. “Next summer, I’ll build you a new one and will start again.”

“Yeah...” Unconvinced, still bothered by your own mistake. It bothered you even more when it was a gift from him.

“Rakkaus, look at me!” He takes your head in his hands. “It’s okay. Some of them are saved in the greenhouse, and next summer, we will make a better hotel, stronger this time.”

You kissed him. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have him in your life. He hugs and sets the movie you’re planning to watch. You cuddle the rest of the night and eventually fall asleep in his arms.

Winter has passed quickly. You have several activities together. Valterri even tried the fat bike, which allowed him to continue pedalling even during the winter. You also enjoyed good raclette and fondue in all sauces. You continue to watch the bees and are happy that they are acclimatizing to their environment while waiting for the warm season. Winter is coming to an end. The snow is melting, and life is back on track.

Valterri has started the new season again, and you are happy. Things are going wonderfully well between you. He shows you how much he loves you whenever he can, little attentions here and there, languid kisses and torrid nights. You’re happy, and that’s the most important thing.

Summer is here. You saw several races this year, and the holidays have finally started. Valterri finished working on the hotel, and you were able to install it outside for the month of July. You even discovered it a few weeks ago, which was a little surprise.

Two months ago, Valterri surprised you. He built a real house for your little friends. A place that protects them from snow and bad weather. You obviously inaugurated it really well... A little too well because in a few months, a new family member is arriving.

“Mehiläinen” Valterri says one time, when you’re in bed.

“What?”

“Let’s call her Mehiläinen.” He says, looking thoughtfully at you.

“You want to call your daughter after the bees?”

“Well... After all, we make her where they make honey?” He winks at you before he kisses you tenderly. After all, he’s not wrong.

#valterri bottas #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 images

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spicyclover · 5 months

Text

Everyday by your side

Summary: Sometimes you need to wait for the right moment.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

You've been with Alex for almost three years now. Your relationship is perfect... almost. There is a detail that has been bothering you for several months. In your circle of friends, all are either engaged or married. Each of them found the soul mate who put the ring on their finger, yet after three years, Alex still has not asked you. Not that you want to or are in a hurry, but hearing your friend talking about weddings and stuff... You want it, too.

You tried to make him understand. After all, this is the third wedding you've attended, and you’ve been a bridesmaid. You sent him pictures of rings, announcements from your friends, and wedding videos, but nothing. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t seem disturbed or concerned about it. He is very busy with his round trips and all the work required to be a Formula One driver…

It’s not complicated to ask a question!

You pester yourself, typing frantically on your computer. Another of your friends just announced her engagement on Instagram. Here you go, one more. You sip your coffee before shutting down your computer and looking around you. You’re sitting at the entrance of Williams Hospitality. It’s Saturday, qualifying is about to start, and you’ve been catching up on some work late enjoying the marvellous Italian sun. People walk back and forth without paying attention. Fans run between the buildings to see the pilots or team members. You watch the journalists make their comments, the photographers take pictures, and you notice one of them taking a picture of you. You smile politely before turning your eyes.

They can be invasive…

You pick up your stuff and grab your bag. You walk to the garage where you’re going to watch the race. You know Alex is already there. The driver parade just ended. You quickly sneak in and pick up what you need before entering the part of the garage reserved for Alex. He talks with his engineers. You join his coach, who smiles tenderly at you before returning to his conversation. You wait for Alex to finish before waving at him. He rushes to you and kisses you quickly before getting in the car.

I barely had time to tell him I love you.

You sulk a little. Qualifying begins, and Alex manages to make good laps, which puts him in a good position for Q2. He gets to do what drives him into Q3. You’re happy, and the team is happy. You feel the excitement of the mechanics. They’ve been waiting since the beginning of the year for the car's excellent performance, and it’s today. You smile while holding the radio close to you. Alex is ready for Q3.

In Q3, Alex gets the fastest lap. He crosses the finish line. There are 3 minutes left when Checo crashes into the wall. It causes a red flag. The cars go back to the pits, and you wait. You all wait. Your boyfriend’s name is still first in the standings. Is it going to be his first pole? You look nervously at the screen. Sergio gets out of his car safely, and that reassures you. He has nothing. You’re not very close to Sergio, but seeing one of them crash into the wall always scares you. You’re afraid they’ll not get out of there in time or ever. The anxiety is tenfold if it’s Alex.

The wait is short as the teams announce it on the radio. Alex is on the front line for tomorrow’s race. The team exclaims joy, and you jump in joy, laughing. You are so happy. Tears even come to your eyes. You will have the team outside the garage and see Alex getting out of his car. His comrades congratulate him. You heard him on the radio, his cry of joy.

He sees you and beckons you to approach. You run up to him and jump in his arms. You are so happy. Right now, you don’t care about the cameras. You’re proud of him. Nothing’s going to ruin that feeling.

"I'm so proud of you." You whisper in his ear. Feeling his chest rising quickly.

"I love you." He says, taking your face in his hands. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to live with you. I want to experience life forever at your side. I want to be by your side every day, all day, for as long as I live."

You are moved by this sudden surge of love. You smile despite the tears of joy that flow down your cheeks. Your head caresses his hands. You can’t say anything.

"Marry me!" He says, blurring it out.

"What?" You ask, unsure of what you just heard. He laughs and kisses your lips before repeating it.

"Y/n Y/L/N, will you marry me?"

This is the question you’ve been waiting for months and months. He asks it in the middle of everything, in the middle of his world. The cameras are on you. Yet you’re alone in the world. You think you hear screams of excitement, but you can't hear anything. All that matters is him. Alex, the man you love. The men with whom you share your life, your good and your bad moments, your confidant, your lover, your best friend. You won’t believe this day is finally here. You smile foolishly, unable to say a single word. You end up nodding, tears take over and burst into tears in his arms. Your mouth finds him, and you kiss him. It’s the best day of your life.

"Yes!" You finally found words, laughing when you heard the applause around you.

#alex albon #alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #alex albon fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff

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spicyclover · 5 months

Text

Boobs in Boobland

Summary: Jealous Lance is something else

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comments section!

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

The holidays suit you well. You are relaxed, you are rested, and above all, you are satisfied. Oh yes, you are satisfied. After complicated weeks, the summer holidays have finally arrived. You can’t be happier. That’s why you didn’t tell Lance you were going under the French sun for the next week. You two, on a beach, near the sea, away from the city's noise, pollution and gossip. Tranquillity is all you’ve asked for this year.

You’re sunbathing on the beach and sipping a cocktail on your second day. The orange colour reminds you of the burning sun of last night, the sweat on your skin, the salty water on your lips and the lust of Lance between your legs. Since you arrived on the sunny coast, you don’t stop. It doesn’t matter when and where, as long as the urge is there. There is letting go of what you like from Lance, which gives you uncontrollable desires.

You feel the sun caressing your skin, your hat on your head to protect your face, and you listen to the sound of the waves that will come. You hear the pages of Lance’s book turn one after the other in a steady rhythm. That’s what you love about a vacation. That need to do nothing, on a beach sipping cocktails all day. You inhale deeply before you get on your stomach. You close your eyes and feel the sleep wave carry you out to sea.

Lance gradually loses his attention from his book. He does not like to be inactive for too long. He does not want to do anything for hours; it is already the second day. He leaves his book and observes the ocean in the distance. He doesn’t want to swim. He doesn’t want to read. He doesn’t want to do anything. He sighs as he looks at you. Your breathing is slow, and you’re gone. He finds it useless to wake you up after all. You’re the one who wanted his vacation. He watches families playing with their children. He watches young people playing volleyball. He watches the waves collapse on the sandbar. Boring.

To forget his boredom, he heads to the bar. The bartender quickly takes his order and looks around him distractedly. A strange feeling of someone watching him overwhelm him. He turns around and meets the look of a young woman. She is beautiful. Brown hair, hypnotic eyes and a smile to make any loyal man yield. Lance smiles timidly before turning his eyes away. A few seconds pass before he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps and curls at this contact, which is not his. He quickly turns around to meet the eyes of the young woman who has just crossed his gaze.

"Lena," she says with a cheerful smile. Lance clears his throat before responding. She knows that Lance is uncomfortable, and it makes her giggle. She presses her hand on his shoulder again as she approaches him. "We could. You know. Go somewhere else."

Lance’s eyes widen at this proposition, and he looks around him, hoping to find help. The woman passes her hand lazily over his arm, and he blushes intensely. "She's attractive and yet totally terrifying." He thinks. He begets before politely refusing the tempting proposal. Lance swings her hand back toward the bar. He turns around, hoping she will go away and get the message. He grabs his phone quickly. She doesn't waste her time and goes away, probably searching for her next target. He grabs his phone quickly.

To love : You’re never going to deviate from what just happened! Lancelove: What?!? To love : Some girl just hit on me.

You look up at the bar, where you can see a glimpse of Lance at the bar next to a gorgeous mannequin.

Lancelove: Oh cool! Is she pretty? To love : Well, yeah! Pretty creepy. Lancelove: HAHAHA! Good for you. To love : Not jealous? Lancelove: Should I be? To love : No. Lancelove: Then no. I love you, and I know you love me. Why would I be scared of a random girl? To love : Don’t know… Lancelove: Love haha! Stop worrying. You did nothing wrong. But if she attempts something else, she will feel my fist. To love : Hahah! Coming soon. Lancelove: Good! Take your time. I’m talking to Chad.

It is low of you, but you can help it.

To love : Who’s Chad? Lancelove: A surfer. He’s nice!

You smile at your text, knowing Lance too well. He can’t help but be jealous of other men. It’s not your first rodeo with this. You never mind Lance being hit on by girls because you know he is coming back home to you at the end of the day.

To love :

Lance’s heart missed a beat. How dare this « surfer » to talk to you? Everyone knows you’re his girlfriend. He pays the bartender before heading quickly to the loungers where you are. He hurries by your side, and you laugh when you see his eyes looking for this famous Chad. You take your glass from Lance’s hands.

"Not funny,"

"Oh yes! You should see yourself." You giggle, sipping the drink.

Lance’s gaze comes down to your chest, which is exposed to the open. He likes your breasts. He can spend all day and all night cuddling them, but it’s his. No one has the right to see that part of you reserved for him. He didn’t spend months chasing you so you could show up on the beach, let alone on social media.

"What are you doing? Put your top back on!" He says, taking his towel to cover you.

You raise your eyes to the sky by grabbing the towel with your hand to stop him. You rest your glass on the small bedside table between you and turn to him again.

"Lance, look around. There's nothing but boobs for as far as the eye can see—boobs in Boobland. Nobody cares about mine."

"They will when they're on the cover of some sleazy tabloid." He growls in his beard. He gets up and picks up your things quickly. You look at him in shock. You certainly don’t understand this change in attitude. Yes, you know he’s jealous, but at this point? "All right. We're going back to the room." You don't argue more and put your shirt on.

He reaches out, and you catch his hand. You walk quickly to the hotel room. He does not exchange words the whole way back and even in the elevator. His hand grabs yours tightly. A feeling of apprehension invades you, and you do not know what to expect. The floors go up, and you can’t help but get a thousand scenarios in your head.

The doors open, and you walk quickly to your room. He lets go of your hand and locks himself in the bathroom, leaving you unpunished. Well, this is confusing. All this jealousy thing for nothing? Not even sex. He's just upset. This is a real bummer. You are about to turn your heels when the bathroom door opens again, and Lance looks at you. His eyes are black with desire. It’s hard to swallow when you look at what’s in his hands.

Handcuffs.

It has been a while since you've used those. You’re not a fan of this masochism. You don’t like to be held against your sandstone. You want to touch, smell, taste and see. You tried a few times with Lance to please him, but you failed to feel the pleasure he brought you each time.

"On the bed." His voice is dark. You swallow again, but you do as you're been told.

You sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for him. Lance is not satisfied with what you’re doing, so he grabs you firmly by the thigh and lifts you up before letting go in the middle of the bed. He's above you, handcuffs holding your first grip to attach them to the bars of the bed. He squeezes a little stiff, and you whimper in pain. He intimidates you to shut up.

"You've been a naughty girl." He says, rapping your shirt off. You breathe deeply. Your chest is no longer covered. You feel the breeze of the wind entering the room, making you curl. Or is it Lance’s greedy look that makes you think that? "You don't want to be a naughty girl, don't you?"

You look at him. You wait for the rest. The excitement goes up a notch. He plays a game. He knows how to make you want, how to make you come without even touching you. He knows your weak points.

"Answer me."

"No, Lance."

"No, who?"

"No, master."

From that moment on, everything becomes an intense blur. All you remember is how many times you moaned unnamed. The number of marks he left on your body, grabbing, sucking, getting hard. The overstimulation feeling you can't deny. He's the real deal.

You didn’t even take the time to go down to eat. A simple pizza did the trick. He fed, pampered, and loved you with all his being. He showed you that you belong to him and that he belongs to you. It was around the stroke of midnight that the handcuffs left your sore wrists, and you were finally able to touch him.

You spent the rest of your night loving him. In the early morning, exhausted by the scorching night, you stayed in bed. It is he who finally dragged your bodies to the bathtub to take a relaxing bath.

"I'm sorry." He whispers in your ear.

You giggle a bit, sore from the previous night. You use your strength to turn to face him and grab his head.

"I must admit. It is the first time the handcuff made me come."

#lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #lance stroll smut #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 smut

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spicyclover · 5 months

Text

Que esta noche nunca termine

Summary: When tension meets passion.

This is a re-write!

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: smut

For several months, you and Carlos have been on different airwaves. Never on the same wavelength, you pass by the other without ever acting on this tension that drives you. This tension is constantly evolving. You can barely be in the same room without devouring each other eyes. Yet neither of you takes the first step. Charles is annoyed that this situation distracts you and him. It’s time you two got together.

That’s why Charles came up with this plan.

You got a message from Charles. You and some friends are getting together to watch tonight’s football game. You’re not the biggest football fan, but enjoy these gatherings with the boys. It amuses you to see them exclaim after the television when a player misses a goal or if their favourite team has scored. That would only happen if you knew there was no game tonight. But Charles was careful not to tell you.

So you took your car and drove to Carlos' house.

You and Carlos have been friends for years. Before becoming a member of the Ferrari team together, you played karting against each other for years. You even did the regionals at his side. You did not pursue the longer competition, but your passion did not change. So you studied mechanics.

You arrive in front of his house. It’s a big house away from the city. A nice, quiet place away from the hustle and bustle. You like to come to his house. You get out of your car and head for the entrance. You’re surprised no one has arrived yet. "Maybe the cars are in the garage." You’re ringing the doorbell.

You wait a moment before the door opens on a shirtless Carlos.

"Hi Hermosa," Says Carlos, a confused look on his face. "What are you doing here?"

Your eyes get lost in his chest. God, you want to put your hands on it. Your cheeks become crimson, and you stutter.

"Charles... invite... football match." It’s more words coming out of your mouth than a sentence, but Carlos understands.

"Hum..."

"Charles texted me. We were gathering for the game tonight." You say, showing him the text from Charles.

"A-hole." He whispers in his mouth. "They're no game tonight." He states, looking down, not knowing what to say.

"Oh, so.. sorry." A silence sets in, and you feel stupid. When you go to see this fool, Charles, you will make him regret being born. "Well, I'm gonna leave." You go down the steps before you turn your body towards your car.

"Wait!" Carlos says with his hand out. "I made carbonara pasta, and I made too much." You hesitate. You do not want to impose yourself, and even less after seeing him in this outfit. "Stay." It’s almost a whisper, but the word convinces you.

You walk through the door. You smell him, but you follow it in the kitchen. His hand rests on your shoulder to guide you as if you did not know his house. You’ve been here at least a hundred times. You know exactly where the kitchen is, but you want him to direct you right now. You blush.

In the kitchen, you smell the good smell of pasta that cooks slowly. You sit at the counter, and it goes behind the stove.

He agitates nervously without knowing what to do or say. Feeling your gaze on him makes him nervous and excited. He saw your eyes devouring him from head to toe.

"Need help?" You ask gently. He looks up at you, and you find him more beautiful than ever. His hair in battle and his torso still uncovered make you lose your way. "You seem confused." You explain without really knowing why.

"If I knew you were coming, I would have cooked something nicer." He states, taking two plates in the cabinets. He takes the ladle and serves a generous portion of the meal on each plate.

"It's perfect." You say, looking at him.

He takes a tray and puts what you need before telling you to go sit on the couch. He catches a t-shirt that he puts on quickly before joining you.

"Dinner is served, my lady." He said with a laugh. You salivate in front of the pasta while waiting for him to settle on the sofa. You are too cute.

You eat while watching a Netflix series. The episodes pass, and you get closer and closer. You stick to him. Your head rests on his shoulder while the scene passes in front of your eyes without you actually looking at it. You’re focused on his hand in yours. You play with your fingertips to draw shapes on it. He doesn’t seem to realize it, and you’re back on his forearm.

His eyes have been on you for quite some time. He’s nervous. He wants to do it, but he’s afraid you’ll reject him. He also focuses so that his desire is not seen. His arm that surrounds your shoulder caresses your arm distractedly. It slowly rises towards your shoulder, your chest, your neck.

He feels the shiver he gives you. His hand gently grabs your neck, and you look up at him. His pupils are black with desire. His eyes get lost in your lips, and you open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you. He kisses you greedily. "Dios mio, it feels good!" surprise, you don't kiss him back right away.

Only a few seconds pass before you respond to his kiss. Your hands go up in his hair, and you push his head towards you so that he gets closer. Deepening the kiss. His hands wander your back. He grabs your thighs and pushes you onto the couch to position himself on top of you.

"Finally… I wanted to do this for so long," he whispers between his breaths.

"Me too." You whimper.

His caresses make your inner thigh, and a shiver of pleasure takes hold of you. Carlos notices it as he descends his hot kisses down your face towards your neck. He lingers on this one, making you moan when he finally finds the most sensitive point of it. You spread your legs wider and wrap your waist around him, pushing him towards you to feel him closer. A growl of pleasure comes out of his mouth without him realizing it. His erection is glued to your crotch, still clothed. A back-and-forth movement begins. You are overexcited.

He steps aside and beckons you to lift your hips. He runs his hands over your buttocks, grasping them firmly. He drops your pants wet with pleasure. Your panties have it just as much. "You’re so wet for me."

The feeling of his jeans against your panties is indescribable. You move your body against his. Your breath is panting. You don't resist pulling his hair after he has once again stimulated your crotch too much with his hard one. You moan loudly. You're wetter, and so is he. One of his hands finds the edge of your panties, and he lodges his hand in your privacy. Your kisses intensify, and you whimper. One of your hands leaves his beautiful hair to unbutton his pants.

The brush of your hand against his erection is enough to make him let out a long moan of pain and pleasure again. You masturbate with each other. His fingers in your intimacy and his mouth on your breasts make you lose your means and come on him without warning. His fingers feel the walls of vaginas imprison them. All that is enough for him to free himself, too. Your hands have been stroking his length for a few minutes already.

A long rattle comes out of his mouth when it sticks more to you. You are coming, and he is ejaculating on your panties through his underpants. He lets himself fall on you while continuing to kiss you tenderly. His hand to your private parts comes out, and you complain about it. He laughs lightly before he, too, groans because you remove your hands from his penis.

"Eso fue algo." He says in your ear. That was something,

"Yeah… definitely something," you giggle. Your look of envy finds his own.

"Let's take this to the bedroom, Hermosa." He mumbles in your ear, and you nod your head, unable to say anything. "Que esta noche nunca termine."

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 smut #f1 x reader

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spicyclover · 5 months

Text

Masterlist 2.0

Hi Spicy Cloverers!

Welcome to my new list. You have arrived at your destination in my fiction. I put the link to my old list here. I decided to start anew for this new edition of December. Don’t worry! All the original stories will stay on my page. I will re-write some and create new ones, so stay tuned!

The list will be in alphabetical order, so different from the last one. I hope my OCD will improve.

Masterlist F1 stories :

I accept requests for all the Grid.

Alex Albon :

Everyday by your side

Carlos Sainz :

Que esta noche nunca termine

Esteban Ocon :

Moral of the story

Lance Stroll :

Boobs in Boobland

Valtteri Bottas :

Where the bees make honey

Thank you for your support every day. I hope you like my stories and will continue to follow me for more adventures.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

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spicyclover · 9 months

Note

Just wanted to ask if your continuing with All the things you said ?

Hi!

All the things you said | Part Five

This will be the final part of the "All the things you said" story. I really love all the love and commitment you all put to read this little piece of my work.

Thank you for your support, and I hope you like the end of this story.

#charles leclerc #f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #sad

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spicyclover · 9 months

Text

All the things you said | Finale part

Summary: A big dinner is organized by Charles to bring together some pilots and their wives, girlfriends, sister and friends. Everyone enjoys the evening until a topic of conversation leads to dark revelations. What secrets will be revealed?

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section!

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING !R@PE! TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE!

If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.

Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.

"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.

"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?

"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."

You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.

"One, you will get a major in architecture."

"Two, you can drive an F1 car."

"Three, you can be happy again."

"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."

"Six, I will fight for my life."

Then... you breathe.

If only it could be true.

If only you could be with him.

______________________________________________________________

This is the end of All the things you said. I know it's sad, but it must come to an end. Let me know what you think in the comment. <3

Tag list: @tyna-19 @dessxoxsworld @ynbutbetter @alexander-hamilhoe @honethatty12 innieblogg janeholt3 mloyer heeseung-baby

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff #f1 #f1 imagine #warning #sensible content #r*pe mention #su*cide #be aware

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spicyclover · 9 months

Text

Delilah | part three

Summary: “Hey there, Delilah I know times are gettin' hard But just believe me, girl Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar We'll have it good We'll have the life we knew we would My word is good. “

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section!

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

“Delilah, come on. Let’s go. We’re done shopping for today.” She turns to you, and the stranger raises his head. Your heart misses a beat. It’s not possible. What’s he doing there. The eyes of the unknown also open.

The world stops. Your breathing stops. You never thought for a second that this day would come so fast. You are stunned, frozen on the spot. You look at this man who was once a close acquaintance. You do not know what to say, and neither is he. His brain integrates information.

For a moment, when he saw this little girl at the corner of a booth, he thought he saw his son's face. It was only the blink of an eye for a moment, but she had this expression and figures so similar that it troubled him. Trouble because he knows very well that his son has no children. He needs to see her closely. He watched her from a distance for a few minutes before daring to approach her. And then their eyes met. The same as his son. It was almost a return in time. For a second, his five-year-old son was in front of him.

Delilah watched the man with big eyes before she started talking to him happily. She smiled with all her teeth when he showed interest in her finds in her pink basket. She made him a complete inventory of its contents before smiling again at the elderly man. Then your voice resounded, and the moment passed. Carlos Sainz Sr’s eyes rose towards your figure, and the surprise is read on his face. Never in his life has he thought of seeing you again. You exchange no words. The discomfort and uneasiness is heavy and pressing. You only want to escape as quickly as possible on the first train. You take your daughter’s little hand and move away from the square.

"¿Cómo te llamas, pequeña?" Ask Carlos Sainz Sr, pushing his voice through the crowd. What’s your name, little one?

"Delilah. Delilah Y/L/N." She answers proudly before turning to her mother.

You met your parents in the car. You want to run away. Far away. Isolated. He knows. That’s for sure. He’ll tell him. It will ruin everything you’ve built. You close the door violently, and your father starts without asking anything. You can feel their worried looks on you. Delilah, in her car seat, looks joyfully at the landscape. You are lost in your thoughts. Why haven’t you been more careful? You’ve managed to keep it a secret all this time. Questions scroll through your head like a groceries list. You feel your phone vibrating, and your heart misses a beat. You remain forbidden for a moment before taking the object and opening it. It’s a message from Paola; Cato chewed your shoelaces. A sigh of relief escapes your mouth, and you answer vaguely that it is nothing.

The rest of the day is quiet. You help in the gardens while Delilah plays in the small pools that your parents bought. You watch her from the corner of your eye. Her little polka-dot red swimsuit brings out her caramel complexion and dark eyes. She’s swimming, monopolizing your father’s concentration, trying to get the garden hose to work.

“¡Papi! Mírame a mí,” She screams, her head popping out of the water. “¡Papi!” Papi! Look at me!

“Sí, sí, es genial Delilah.” Your father responds vaguely by grumbling after the tip. “¡Esto es una mierda!” Yea, yea, it’s excellent, Delilah. It's crap.”

“¡Papi!”

You wipe the earth with your hands and go back to the front of the house to get a bag of potting soil. You’re focused and don’t notice the two people outside the portal waiting. You only raise your head as you hear the sound of a voice that is familiar to you. Your eyes cross their eyes. Carlos Sr and Reyes stand, a bottle of red wine and a basket in hand. You sigh and slowly approach.

"What are you doing here?" You ask.

"We want to talk to you, Hermosa." Answer Reyes nicely.

Reyes has always been there for you. She has always considered you her daughter. After all, you have spent many summers in their company.

"I have nothing to tell you."

"I think you do."

"It’s none of your business." You say turn heels.

"She looks like him like two drops of water. You’re not going to make me think she’s not his." Carlos says, pointing away in the backward where they could hear your daughter laughing.

"No, you’re right. I have nothing to make you believe. He’s not the father. Leave before I call the police."

You grab one of the bags of soil and head back to the back of the house.

"Y/n!" Call Carlos Sr. "He’s not perfect, but he has a right to know. Why you hid her from him?" The drop gets the vase full, and you flip, an angry expression on your face.

"Because you think he doesn’t know?" You exclaim. "You think I didn’t spend months trying to reach him. That I did not come crying in tears at his door, begging him to open it to me in the pouring rain. That the only thing he had to tell me was that he didn’t want it and that I had to get rid of it because I was not and would never be good enough for him. If that’s what you believe, you’re wrong. Now get out of here and don’t come back." You say, the tears running down your cheeks. Reyes' eyes fill with tears, and Carlos Sr can’t believe what you say. How can he? His son is perfect...

You turn around for good and return to the back of the house. Your mother notices your puffy, reddened eyes with tears but makes no comment. She knows you don’t want to talk about it. You go back to tapping the earth to flip it. The shovel blows into the ground slowly, calming you down and lowering your pressure. No one suspects they came to see you. The rest of the afternoon and evening is spent in a peaceful atmosphere. You can even forget about them when you bathe Delilah. She always makes you laugh with the foam on her head. That’s when you’re glad she’s in your life, despite everything that’s happened. You are grateful that she is there daily and that you share your life with her. Seeing her grow up hurts you but, at the same time, fills you with joy.

Delilah is sleeping peacefully beside you. You’ve been watching the ceiling for three hours now, unable to sleep. You sigh one more time before you give up and get up. You go up to the window and sit there. The night is clear. You can see some stars. Somethings, back in Fuengirola, you got up to the roof and lay under the stars. You often did this during the summers when Delilah was much younger. Hearing the city and the agitation of the night always helps her calm down from her disturbed dreams. You sometimes think; it makes her feel less alone. Delilah dreams. You hear her whisper incomprehensible phrases in her sleep. She whispers your name. She has always had a troubled sleep. She talks like he does it too.

It was a cool autumn night, and you were all in a cottage by a lake. Your two families are gone for the week, and you share your bed with Blanca and Ana. You’re lying next to her in the queen bed while Carlos sleeps on an air mattress on the floor. You can’t sleep. You argued before you left with your boyfriend then, and you replay the scene in your head. He is angry because you refuse to have advanced relations with him. You’re only sixteen, after all. You don’t feel ready, but you can’t help to feel pressured by him. It makes you angry and a feeling you can't quite describe yet. You turn your head and look at Carlos. He sleeps peacefully next to you. His mouth is ajar. Her lips are so soft. You often imagine how they would feel on yours. Your body turns, and you watch her sleep. You hear him whispering in his sleep, little words or little sentences. You are not sure. You come closer to try to understand, but it’s just gibberish.

Your hand comes out of the warm duvet, and you stroke the outline of his nose with your fingertips. He shudders, but he doesn’t wake up. Your finger continues its journey and arrives at the corner of his lips. You hesitate momentarily before passing your hand on it when you feel Carlos move. His body jiggles, and his head comes to find your finger. You find yourself in the middle of his lips, and unconsciously, he gently kisses your index. You blush strongly, and you withdraw your hand quickly. You are warm, and this heat spreads throughout your body. You feel your crotch become sweaty and turn to the other side. Ashamed of what just happened without his knowledge. You close your eyes, and you only see his lips kissing your finger. You spend the rest of the night awake with that strange heat between your legs.

The following day, when the sun is high, you sleep deeply. The others have already left the room for a long time. The shutters are pulled. A slight breeze cools the room. In your sleep, you are out of the duvet and intertwined in it. Your shorts are raised at the corner of your buttocks, and your t-shirt covers very little skin. You are sure your stomach and your head are facing the window. You are deeply asleep, and you do not hear the agitation downstairs.

"Carlos, ve a por Y/n para almorzar. Sé que estamos de vacaciones, pero no estamos aquí solo para dormir.” Says Reyes, pointing the stairs at his son. "Carlos, go get Y/n for lunch. I know we’re on vacation, but we’re not here to just sleep."

He gets up from the couch, and heads against the heart goes the room. He always thought of you as his sister, but recently, he has emotions that he does not understand when he sees you. His heart capsizes, and every time you laugh, his body warms up with a strange warmth. When you gave him your ocean eyes. He has never experienced this with anyone. He enters the room and sees you. Lying down. In this innocent position. His body reacts, and his cheeks warm up. Your breathing is slow. You are asleep. He sees through the sheets and your t-shirt the tip of your breast. "She is beautiful." He thinks while trying to drive away these impure thoughts towards you. He approaches you. He can’t help but run his fingers over the bare skin of your legs. "So soft, so warm." It gradually rises, tracing the contour of your body. It is warm and feels the thrill you run under its hand. He smiles before continuing his way. He touches the outline of your buttocks before drawing that of your spine. He looks at your face, and his eyes stop on your lips. He wants to kiss you. He wants to capture them from his own. To hear you say his name. He leans over to you, letting his instincts speak.

Suddenly, steps resound from the staircase, and he abruptly departs. By the way, he accidentally hangs a strand of your hair and pulls it out of your bed, falling down the bed. You scream in pain as you open your eyes frantically. You look around, and Carlos' two sisters enter the room while Carlos struggles to get up, tangling in the duvet.

At this memory, a blank smile appears on your face. You raise your head and see the cute face of your daughter, who struggles to open her eyes.

"Mama," she whispers, still asleep.

"Go back to sleep, baby. It’s not morning yet," you get up from your seat and return to bed. She hugs you and places her head on your chest. Her thumb in her mouth and her cuddly toy in the other. She falls back to your side. Your eyelids are heavy, and you drift towards the arms of Morpheus in your turn. Maybe you can consider seeing them. They probably love to meet Delilah. She would like them too. In those thoughts, you really drift away.

______________________________________________________________________

Let me know if you are still interested in this story :) I have a few interesting ideas.

TAG LIST (All Stories) : darkmalice00 karmabyfernando

TAG LIST (This story): karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg soosheee mypage-myfandoms trouble-sistar aileeincomplexity sweetwerewolfqueen darkmalice00 gaslysainz kimikimki fandomsfeminismandme aundercover dreams-with-thoughts lazypinkpig oscarpastryyyyy darkomiomi avengersheart styles-sunflower formula1mount

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff

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spicyclover · 9 months

Text

Motherhood | part four

Summary: When did it start? In the bathroom of a hotel room in Bahrain? No, before. In the pits of a car race when you were six. « Hi, I’m Pierre. ». Would it have started there? On the first date? On the first kiss? On the first « I love you »? We were happy; we were in love. We were alone in the world. All it took was one smile to make my heart burst. All it took was one look. We were free, unconscious. And that day, he told me. « I want a child with you. ». Out of desire, out of love, out of madness, I said, « Do it to me. » Well, it really all started there.

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section!

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: miscarriages, physical, verbal and mental abuse. +18 mention of smut

If you are the victim of abuse of any kind. Please. Seek help. Your safety and your life are important. A person who hurts you mentally, physically or verbally is not a good person. Call a friend, a family member or the special number of your country to get HELP.

Disclaimer: All references to aggression and violence are fictitious. This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts.

You take your wrist between your fingers and slowly massage it as you turn around to continue on your way. You did it. You have told him all the pain and sorrow he has inflicted on you. A sense of pride fills you.

You take a step when all of a sudden.

"Wait!" He shouts and forces you to walk away from the crowd.

All the trust you’ve built evaporates in seconds, and you follow him despite yourself. Tears of fear appear in your eyes, and you feel your breath leave your body as you see yourself being dragged away. You walk away from others, cameras, security, and hospitalities… what will he do to you?

You’re trying to free yourself again, but a fury emanates from him and for the first time in weeks, you’re scared. You fear for your life. You fear him. His face is closed, and his grip marks you with his imprint.

"Let go of me. You're hurting me." You whisper while choking on your own sob. His body tense up, and he finally stops you. He kicks you up hard, and you hit your head against the wall of the building.

You, again, choke a moan of pain and lean against the wall to support yourself. Your head turns, and your vision blurs. He really pushed you hard. You eventually lost your balance and fell to your knees before him.

"You have no right to humiliate me in front of everyone. Do you hear me?" He exclaims, grasping your neck to force you to look at him. "You are nothing, a vermin, a whore. You’re a fucking whore. On all fours on the bed, that’s all you deserve in life."

You fear him. You tremble like a leaf waiting for the next event. You wait for the punches, you wait for the penetration, you wait for the marks. You feel his hand choking more around your neck, and a new wave of panic invades you. You grab his arm, trying to get out, but he pulls you up effortlessly and pushes you hard into the wall. You can’t even get a sound out of your mouth because it’s so tight for your vocal cords. The lack of air is felt, and you wiggle. You try to hit him, but you gradually lose your strength. Yet your eyes do not leave his. In a sign of rebellion, in a sign of strength, you do not leave him with your eyes. You let him see your pain and suffering.

"Let... Let me... Let me go." You can hardly articulate.

"Or what?"

Your eyes sweep the horizon behind him, and miraculously you see red clothes approaching your position. A wave of hope takes hold of you, and you gather your strength. This may be the only chance you have. You scratch his face hard, so he drops his grip on your neck. You gasp for air, stumbling away towards the men in red. You try to shout, but you are no longer able to speak. You feel Pierre in your back getting close again quickly, and you grab a stone and throw it with all your strength you have left against the metal bin next to you. Heads turn to noise, and you recognize Carlos.

"Y/n? Carlos shouts, coming toward you. He sees your distress, and his face turns red at the sight of Pierre. "What did you do, cabrón?" Carlos' fists close, knowing what Pierre has done to you very well.

Carlos' assistant approaches you and takes you away while the two men talk. You take your head against your hands and feel a lousy liquid coming out of your head. You bleed. He hit you hard enough to crack your skull. Your breathing accelerates when you see the blood, and you gasp for air. Your body no longer controls itself, and the pressure releases. You are in a panic attack. You can no longer speak or express yourself adequately. Your lungs are burning, and you only want to scream with all your might so that this nightmare will finally give way. You want to be with Charles. You need to be with him. You need to be with him.

"It’s okay, Carlos, we were just talking. Mind your own business, my friend."

"Well, this is my business. And to me, my friend, it didn't seem like she wanted to talk." Carlos' voice is cold and unprecedented.

"You know girls like her..."

It’s too much for Carlos throwing his fist at Pierre’s face. Pierre rocks and finds himself on the ground before running away towards his hospitality.

"You’re all really sick. She’s just a whore!" Pierre screams, running away.

He runs away, leaving you with Carlos and his team. Oddly, you feel less alone seeing Carlos around you. You try to regain a normal heart rhythm, but the air seems to be stuck in your throat. You hold your head in your hands, and blood flows. It hurts. It hurts. Why does he have to be so mean? Tears run down your cheeks, and you feel Carlos' warm hands fondling your back

"It's okay. He's gone. You're okay." He repeats multiple times, more to convince himself than you. "We need to get out of here. Can you walk?"

You nod your head, and he sighs. He really hurt you. He puts your arms around his neck, and he puts one hand behind your back and under your knees before getting up. His team forms a wall around you, and you advance to the hospitality of Ferrari a few meters longer. The world passes by you without you paying attention which greatly reassures Carlos. Andrea sees you in the distance and runs towards you.

"Cos'è successo? Perché sei così? Chi ti ha fatto del male? Giuro, se lo trovo…" Says Andrea, quickly looking around to see your attacker. What happened? Why are you like this? Who hurt you? I swear if I find him…

Carlos shuts him down with a look, and you enter Ferrari’s quarters. Carlos' assistant runs to look for a doctor while Andrea runs to the interview area to warn Charles. Carlos lies you in Charles' room on the little massage boards. Your head drums, and you have trouble keeping your eyes open. Your throat hurts, your lower belly hurts, your knees hurt. You whine in pain, and you faint.

Meanwhile, Charles speaks with reporters about his Pole Position and the results so far from Ferrari. It is completely to the west of what has just happened. He finishes his interview and begins to move towards hospitality when Andreas wringing towards him.

"Charles! Devi… devi… devi… devi venire." He articulates difficulties. Still in shock at what he saw. Charles! Must… Must… Must you… Must come.

"Eh? Che sta succedendo?" Huh? What’s going on?

"Y/n."

Just to the agreement of your first name, he rushes towards where his trainer tells him. He runs. He runs at full breath to the hospitality. Fred tries to speak to him, but Charles ignores him by sending his hand waltzing.

"What happened? He kneels directly beside you. Screaming at Carlos.

A paramedic is already in the room examining you. He’s talking on the phone with the ER while his colleagues come home with a stretcher to pick you up. Charles tries to understand the situation. How you got there. Everything is confused, and he does not understand. The paramedics take you to the ambulance. He refuses to let Charles go with you, and he begs them to tell them where he’s taking you. The siren starts, and it moves away in the night. The Paddock is empty, and fortunately, because he has no desire for a group of curious come to see him or post about it. He turns to Carlos, who has the stitches.

Carlos hesitates a few seconds before saying.

"Pierre."

The simple agreement of that name makes her turn blood. What did he do to put her in that state? He ends up changing and hurries to the hospital that he was told. Joris and Andrea are with him in the car and a silence of lead reigne. Charles' hands are white to tighten the wheel. He did not find Pierre, but he only wants to kill him.

"Si je le trouve... Je lui défonce sa gueule." He’s mumbling for the umpteenth time. If I find him… I’ll kill this asshole.

The parking lot of the hospital is almost empty. He leaves his keys to Joris before running to the door to enter the emergency room. The minutes are long, and he only wants to be by your side. The receptionist tells him your room number, and he hurries to go.

The room is in the dark, but the doctor explains that you are fine. You will have to take the weeks in total calm. The concussion has healed, and your vocal cords are slowly starting to return to your normal size. He sits next to you and watches you sleep. You have a black eye and bruises on your body. For he cannot help but find you beautiful. Despite all this shit, you are beautiful, kind and joyful. He doesn’t know how you can be a force of nature like that. Charles lies beside you. He takes you in his arms, being careful not to hurt you. In your sleep, you seek his contact. His nose in your hair, he escapes to the world of dreams.

You wake up at 10 am. Charles isn’t by your side, but Joris is asleep in the chair in a corner of your room. You look around while the memories of the day before slowly come back to you.

"Joris?" You ask confused.

Joris jumps when he hears your voice and approaches you. You spend the rest of the day in examination before the doctors allow you to leave. You go back to the hotel with him. You are still weak, but he supports you in every step you take.

"I don’t understand why he’s picking on me. What did I do to him?" It is not really a question for him, but rather, an unanswered question.

"I don't know." He says he’s upset. "But nothing will happen to you. I swear to you. I will not leave you any more than a foothold from now on."

"That's sweet." You mumble, looking out the window of your hotel room. "I don't think I'll come back."

"What?"

"I... I don't want to live in the fear that he'll find me whenever I am in the paddock." You sit a the edge of the bed. "It's better if I leave before anything worse happens. I don't want Charles to be in trouble because of me or anyone." You cough several times, knowing well that you must spare your voice. "I'll talk to him about it later."

You sent Joris back to the race. Asking him not to say anything to Charles tends to make you not talk to him. He nods against his heart before taking his jacket and going out. You settle in comfortably after taking a shower and putting cream on your bruises and wounds. You have a hard time grasping the phone to order room service. You lose your voice more and more. You order a honey tea with Benedictine eggs. Enough to fill your stomach until tonight you find Charles.

The hours pass, and Charles wakes you up when he enters the room after finishing the race. You jump when you hear the door slam, and Charles immediately regrets not having paid attention to this door. He apologizes for the look before coming to you and kissing you tenderly.

"I'm terribly sorry... I forgot the door was loud." He says by putting his head in your neck. He smells your smell, and it reassures him. "Did you eat something?"

"This... this morning." You hardly answer.

Charles notices your lack of voice and informs you to refrain from speaking for the moment. You try to retaliate, but he is right. You have to rest to the max. You write to him to tell you about his day. He talks about the race while storing his belongings in his suitcase. He walks back and forth, telling every detail of the race and getting third place on the podium. You tap the bed to get his attention, and he approaches you. You kiss him proudly for the bliss of that third place.

"We are not doing this right now." He smirks, knowing very well what you do to him. You pouted a bit, but once again, his right. You're in no shape to have sex. "Will have it when you're fully recovered and fully vocal." You giggle at his last words. Charles loves hearing you moan loud.

You kiss his lips again before showing him the menu to order food.

The next day, you returned to Monaco. You found your marks in his apartment, which became yours. Charles is off to the next circuit, and you won’t see him for the next few weeks. The races are close, and he doesn’t have much time left for you. You’re glad he’s not offering to come. After everything that’s happened. You don’t want to go back. You haven’t had time to talk to him about your decision yet, but know that you like to think he already knows.

The last race comes fast, and you are excited that the winter holidays start for him. The fight between him and Max is tight. They exchange points like shirts. The pressure is on. The last race is decisive.

Sitting in front of the TV, you’re with Charles' mother. She didn’t want to sit at that Grand Prix so she could stay close to you; frankly, you were grateful. She’s been a big help to you the last few weeks. Especially at the beginning, she came to see you every day to help you in your daily life and in the various tasks that you have to do. You fully regained your voice a few weeks later, and it felt good to be able to express yourself normally again.

The race has started, and the tension is at its peak. The cars are pushing each other. Different strategies are at stake. Charles is back at the booth. He changes his tires. Optimal stop; he leaves as fast as he arrives. Verstappen is a few seconds ahead of him. He uses his mediums to the maximum. Charles quickly gains time on him. Max returns to the booth. Charles passes first. Optimal stop for number one. He quickly catches up with Charles. The last laps arrive. Pressure rises. You are no longer able to look at the screen. All you want is for the finish line to appear and for it to end. The last round begins. The speeds are at their top rates. They’re touching. The finish line is a few metres away. The car goes by.

To be continued...

Tag list : ricciardosheart ru-kru gaslysainz champomiel jessicaloons tyna-19 thesonnie6

#charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smut

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spicyclover · 9 months

Text

Kiss me, Mick | Final part

Summary: Sometimes, you must be spontaneous to find what you want, and that’s what Mick learns at his expense.

Part one | Part two

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

He doesn’t want his mother or quasi-godfather to see that he’s fully erect. If possible, Y/n’s cheeks turn even redder when she feels this lump on her hips behind her.

Let’s just say they got strapped by Corinna. The return to the garage is done in a lead silence, Mick with his mother and Y/n with Sebastian. Mick’s erection quickly went down while listening to his mother bash his ears. What they did is completely stupid, but Mick has only one desire: to start over what they stopped.

So, when the car was returned to the garage, and his mother finally let him go, he grabbed her hand quickly and took her to the nearest closet. The mechanics sneer at the behaviours of the young pilot and his hormones. Mick does not give her time to reply. He kisses her vigorously, pressing her against the door.

“Mick.” She says between his kisses. “Mick. Mick, stop.”

“Why?” He whines.

“Your mother is still here. We’re not doing this.” She pushes him slightly away. “I would love to have you, but not right now.”

“But. What am I going to do with this?” he says, his eyes on his limb.

“Well, think of my naked screaming your name.” She flirtatiously says, opening the door again and going out. Mick groans with frustration and pulls her in for a last kiss.

“Please.” He begs her.

She giggles and leaves him. The mechanics whistle as they see her, making her blush more embarrassed. She goes back to her apartment, anxious about the impression she left Corinna. She will hate her. She puts herself under her bed and writes with all her strength. Why she cannot resist Mick's beautiful, sumptuous and vibrant body. Her skin still has chills from what they did or went to do in the car.

For his part, Mick’s tension did not go down. He only wants the day to end so that he can join her. The hours pass slowly, and he can’t take it anymore. He even ends up begging Toto to let him leave rather than pretexting a sore throat poorly played. Not at all impressed by the young man's performance, Toto lets him go, however, not wanting to hear his moans another time.

He’s at the speed limit, and his body can’t take it anymore. He wants to feel her near him. He goes up the steps four by four. Fresh pizza in his hands, missing from falling every second. He runs down the hallway before reaching his door. He’s out of breath. He breathes loudly before taking a deep breath and rings at the door.

She opens the door, and he doesn’t wait another second. He drops the pizza box on the floor and grabs her face. He’s never been greedy for a girl, but she’s special. Surprise, she does not respond immediately to the kiss, but she lets herself easily do. Mick’s hands quickly find what he is looking for. They find satisfaction in each other, and it is after hours of pleasure that they finally go to bed.

She’s in bed with him. Mick puts his arms around her body, taking her closer to him. His hand caresses her stomach and makes her shiver. She gave in and snuggled closer to him, feeling his whole body on her.

He hugs her and whispers in his ear.

“Ich liebe dich.”

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TAG LIST (This story): anotheroneiforgot

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 fluff

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spicyclover · 9 months

Text

Delilah | Part two

Summary: “ Hey there, Delilah I know times are gettin' hard But just believe me, girl Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar We'll have it good We'll have the life we knew we would My word is good “

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section!

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

You kiss her head and close the door getting back to the living room. Paola returned to her apartment, and you sat by the door, wondering what to do.

You’ve had an exhausting week. The lack of sleep and the anxiety of seeing him again is eating away at you. You have nightmares. Each time the same. You are in front of his house six years earlier, begging him to let you in. The rain is falling, and you are wet. Your tears mingle with the rain, and you’re exhausted from banging on his door. You end up collapsing on the ground, curling up on yourself. The dream keeps repeating itself, and you wake up with a start every time the door opens.

Your eyes widen, and you struggle to find your breath. You frantically search around you without knowing exactly what you are looking for. You are hot. The sheets are soaked with sweat, and you sigh by passing your hand on your face. It can’t last any longer. You look at the time on the dial on your bedside table and blow more, knowing it’s just four in the morning. “So much for your sleep.” You take your phone and look at the messages you received. Your mother sent you a mem of a cat, and you smile tenderly, noticing the resemblance with Cato. Speaking of which, he enters the room discreetly and rests at the edge of the bed. "Of course, he heard me." You look at him briefly before he turns to the door.

It is not possible, this cat. No matter what time he asks for food. You whisper it is not time, and he shakes his disgruntled tail. You keep watching the news and your networks. You follow the F1 closely and pass their story one after the other. The Spanish Grand Prix is fast approaching. Delilah always dreams of going there and seeing the cars in real life. You look at the time again, and already two hours are gone. You decide to get up and start the routine.

The hours go by, and the idea is always in your head. Why not go? There is no harm. What could happen? That you meet him, that he recognizes you, that he sees Delilah, that he ignores you and ignores her at the same time and that your daughter’s little heart is broken again... Out of the question! You are on the bus back, and your mind is lost in your contacts. You are in his name. You never managed to get his number off your phone or his nickname simultaneously. Your thumbs overlook his name without touching him. Your brain hesitates, but your body seems to want to decide for itself.

The bus stops suddenly, and you press the call button. Panic invades you, and you look at your phone with big eyes. You get it near your ear.

"Sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is no longer available."

He changed his number. Surprisingly, your heart is tightening. You’ve invaded with vomiting. He changed his number. That asshole changed his number. You know it’s not necessarily your fault, but you can’t help but think about it. He didn’t even send you a message to warn you. Tears come up, but you refuse to let them down. He doesn’t deserve your tears. He abandoned you. He... he broke your heart.

You put your keys in the lock and the ball in your belly. What are you going to do now? Delilah will never recover. She wanted you to contact him so she could see him at least once. You don’t want to break that hope in her. It’s so hard. Not having her father present for her is already so hard. Not having two signatures in her school notebook. Not being related to his father’s side. Not having him at her dance shows. Not having him for her birthdays.

You open the door with a heavy heart and a full head. Delilah sits quietly in the living room and draws. She is so wise. You thank Paola, and you sit next to her.

"Delilah, cariño, escúchame." You say, caressing her long hair. "Sé que realmente quieres conocer a tu padre y yo..." Delilah, baby, listen to me. I know you really want to meet your dad, and I..."

"¿Te pusiste en contacto con él?" She asks, starry eyes. "¿Quiere verme? ¿Dijo qué? ¿Cuándo lo vemos?" She gets increasingly excited, and you feel bad breaking her dream. Did you contact him? He wants to see me? He said what? When do we see him?

You don’t know why or how. But the lie that came out of your mouth sealed your destiny.

"Sí, e incluso dijo que lo vamos a visitar en Madrid. Vamos a pasar algún tiempo con la abuela y el abuelo." You want to bang your head against a wall. Why couldn’t you admit to your daughter that her father didn’t warn you about his number change? It wasn’t hard to say you couldn’t get in touch with him, and he didn’t want to see her… Yes, and he even said we’ll visit him in Madrid. We’re going to spend some time with Grandma and Grandpa.

You got yourself in a mess.

The end of the month is here, and you get on the train to your parents' country house. You haven’t been there in five years and for good reason. Last time you were here, you were so pregnant with your daughter. Your mother begged you for weeks to come home and spend a few days trying to reconcile your relationship with your father, but he wouldn’t listen and went fishing all the time you were there.

You walked in the fields with your mother to try to get her out. You laughed when you saw Blanca in the distance. You quickly turned around to avoid her, and your mother followed you. You heard her call you, but you ignored her. Fortunately, your oversized coat hid your belly, and you could leave without further incident. You took a train ticket that night to avoid another incident, and you’re saying goodbye to your mother and hometown with big tears. A few days later, when you arrived in Fuengirola, you gave birth. You texted him to tell him she was born, but you never got an answer. So you didn’t insist, and you gave up.

The landscapes pass by, and you get to fall from the night in the small village. Delilah is asleep, and you take her off the train thanking the nice Samaritan who helped you get your bags out of the vehicle. You then found your mother waiting at the entrance of the station. She greets you with open arms and embraces tenderly the forehead of Delilah, who sleeps in your arms. You thank her kindly for taking your bags, and you head to the car. The headlights are on, and you’re surprised to see your dad sitting in the driver’s seat, but you don’t say anything. You don’t know how to react by getting closer to the car. He comes out and approaches you. No words are exchanged, but you know he forgave you. He hugs you and kisses your temple before he takes Delilah and puts her in the car seat.

The ride is quiet, and you end up falling asleep at the noise of the road. Two hours of the car are between the city center and the house. This dream-free sleep does you good, and you recover the energy that left you that last month. The vehicle is parked, and you wake up. Your eyes are looking at the garden where you spent all your childhood and the house that saw you grow up. Six years have passed. You cannot believe it. Delilah wakes up beside you, and you smile tenderly. The energy took her, and she began to admire everything around her. She greets her grandpa and grandmother warmly before running around the garden laughing.

The first few days go well. Your parents get to know your daughter, and you gradually regain your strength. You’re happy to find your father. After so many years, you’re pleased to be able to hug him and watch your favourite show together again. You took a stroll through the city and its surroundings. Delilah got a nice bike, and your father has been teaching her to do it for a few days. You talk to your mother, and you miss your complicity.

You spend a lot of time biking and enjoying nature. It changes the urban landscapes that you’re used to seeing. Delilah is riding a pony for the first time and doesn’t want to let it go. She eats pony, laughs pony, plays pony, and wants a pony.

You regret that your mother had this idea, but seeing Delilah so happy does you good. Maybe she will forget her father...You spoke with your parents about Delilah’s desire to meet her dad. To be able to see him. You talked about your fears and the hard years you’ve been through alone. Your father feels guilty that he couldn’t put his ego aside so that you could stay close to them, but you reassure him that you don’t regret anything. Seeing your daughter smile daily is worth all the trouble in the world.

You’re talking about going to a Grand Prix to find him, but you don’t want to. You’re completely lost and don’t know what to do about it. You talk about a good part of the evening, and it’s only once the big clock in the living room announces midnight that your parents decide to go to bed. You just sit out in the open, taking advantage of the summer breeze to think better. It’s already mid-July. You can’t believe that time is moving so fast. You return to your room a few minutes later with a restless but relaxed mind.

The next day, you are at the village market, and you market the various vegetables and fruit you see at the best prices. Delilah smells each product and displays a satisfied head every time the smell is sweet. The traders laugh at her adorable face and even offer her fruit for free. Delilah walks through the different stands making her little game to get as many items as possible. You sneer tenderly with your mother when you notice your daughter’s ploy.

Watch her from the corner of your eye. Her little hat with strawberries strapped to her head helps you spot her in the crowd. She is at the honey stand. You thank the seller, who hands you your bag filled with good vegetables and turns around to find your daughter. You see her talking to a stranger. You frown as you approach. If there’s one thing you don’t want her to do, it’s talk to strangers.

Let me know if you would like a part three in the comments!

TAG LIST (All Stories) : darkmalice00 karmabyfernando

TAG LIST (This story): karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg soosheee mypage-myfandoms trouble-sistar aileeincomplexity sweetwerewolfqueen darkmalice00 gaslysainz kimikimki fandomsfeminismandme aundercover

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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spicyclover · 10 months

Text

Fireflies

Summary: After having a horrible beginning of the year, you slowly recover from your trauma and his. You soon realize that Lance will always be by your side.

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section!

I’m open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: Mention of miscarriage, blood and injury. BE AWARE

Some characters are invented. I don’t know exactly the name of every team member of each driver. Please be respectful, and you can correct me in the comments. I’ll make the adjustment if I get something wrong.

Dialogues from: Cha Cha Real Smooth

When Lance had his bike accident. She miscarried and didn’t tell him because She didn’t want him to worry about her. Weeks passed, and he slowly recovered from his injuries. Now that this dark time has passed, she feels it’s time to tell him.

She is working in the hotel room when she gets the call from Lance’s coach. He quickly informed her of the situation, and she jumped into the first taxi to the hospital where he had just been admitted. He didn’t directly describe the damage the accident caused, but she felt in his voice that it was severe. The stress has escalated, and she imagines the worst possible scenarios.

She rushed to the emergency room, quickly spotting Lance’s team in the corner of the waiting room.

“What happened?” She asks quickly. His coach once she gets close to them.

“I... I don't. I don't know. Everything happened so fast.”

“How bad is it?” She questions nervously.

“Very...”

They’ve been waiting for hours, and no one wants to give them any information until his father arrives. She tried to get information, but apparently, being his girlfriend is not close enough to him to be able to receive any information. The nurses are reluctant to tell her anything; she only knows he’s with the doctors to save his hands and feet.

She returns and sits with Lance’s coach, Rob, for the fifth time. She let a giant sigh escape and crossed her arms with discontent. She has had a stomach ache since early morning, and she’s getting increasingly irritable with the hours that pass.

She’s trying to camouflage her discomfort, but she’s starting to feel cramps twisting her in half. She apologizes to the team and heads to the nearest washroom. She feels blood running down her thighs. "Oh no." She hurries and opens the first cabin available.

She lifts her dress, which is now stained with blood and looks. Tears invade her when she sits on the toilet bowl, waiting for her to finish bleeding out. "Why it’s happening to us."

A few weeks ago, she noticed that she hadn’t had her period for several weeks, but she didn’t tell Lance because she didn’t want to worry him about anything. So she said nothing and lived in denial over the holidays and Lance’s vacation. They went to the mountains, and that’s when she realized the changes that began to happen. They went back to Canada and finally decided to consult.

So the doctor told her a week before Lance’s accident that she was 13 weeks pregnant.

“Congratulation Miss Strulovitch. Thirteen weeks pregnant. We can schedule your first ultrasound for the end of the weekend.”

“I...”

“I know this is quite a shock, especially since you didn’t know about it. You can take your time to think about it and talk to your partner.

“Umm...”

“You can call our office anytime.”

She left the office not knowing what to do or think. She didn’t want to talk to Lance immediately until she thought about it and knew what to think. They went to Spain on the weekend and had her ultrasound picture in her bag, waiting for the right moment to tell Lance.

“When... Is there a date of conception? She asked them on the phone some hours later to the doctor.

“Well, if my calculation is correct, it will probably be around the end of November.”

“End of November, she whispers back.

She remembered right away the night it happened. She had been sick for a few days and forgot to take her pill, but she didn't think much about it when she was in Abu Dhabi with Lance. Lance and she have been together for quite a long time and have done it multiple times without protection. So she didn’t think much about it, and it was Lance.

She cries, trying to find a solution. A way for her to go back to the hotel and change. But she’s bleeding out, and bleeding out her baby. She can’t believe it. She didn’t even have time to tell him. She didn’t have time. Why didn’t she have time?

She finally calmed down a bit to be able to text Rob, Lance’s coach.

“Hi, women’s bathroom. Hum, I’m looking for someone. Is anybody in here? Is anybody’s name Y/n in here? Start with a Y?” Asks Bob entering the bathroom.

“Bob,” She whimpers in pain.

“Yeah. Y/n.”

“Is Lance okay? Have you seen him?”

“Yes. Yeah, he’s, and he’s keeping it up. Are you okay?”

“Um, I’m kind of stuck in here.”

“What do you mean?” Do you need toilet paper?”

“I’m. I just. I got some blood on my dress, and it’s not. I’m fine. It’s not a cut. Um...”

“Oh, word, okay.”

“Um, but I need. Can you get me some paper towels?”

“Yes”

“Like ten?”

“Yeah”

“And can you wet some?”

“Uh?”

“Will you wet some of them?”

“Yes!” He approaches the door. “Okay. Can you reach that?”

“Fuck”

“What?”

“I can’t reach that. I just got more blood on my drip on my dress.”

“I can go a little further.”

“I can’t. I. Just throw them.”

“I can, but I feel like it’s gonna fall on the floor, and it’s gonna be, like, not sanitary for you.”

“Go under, then, go.”

The door opens. He gives you the toilet paper.

“Close the door.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah...”

“Do you want me to see if someone has a tampon or something?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Lance, I need you to help me get to my car. Because I don’t want people to think I’ve killed somebody in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, it does look like that. Do you, um, that’s a period. Do you want my... Do you want to wear my coat? I have a coat.”

“I don’t think your coat will cover my ass.”

“I feel like it is. I’m pretty tall.”

“I don’t want people to see me wearing some guy’s jacket.”

“Okay, I think I have an idea.”

She spends several minutes in there while Rob goes looking for his coat. She whimpers in pain, trying to breathe through the contraction. Tears flow down her cheeks, and she feels something leave her body.

She went back to the hotel room. Looking like a maniac trying to keep her mind busy. She’s shaking but tries to cover it. She mumbles to herself. She nervously eats her nails, and she passes multiple times at the same place. Her mind wanders away. She needs a shower. She needs a shower right now.

It is only when the shower starts running that her minds finally silence itself. Taking a part of hers in the drains. She watches the blood flowing away. The warm water makes her feel a bit better, but she can’t help to cry again. She stays under the water for ages. Letting the water flow her emotions away. She needs to be strong. She needs to let go of the pain. She needs to be strong for him. “He didn’t have to know. He didn’t have to know.” She mumbles again to herself.

She wears sweatpants with an oversized hoodie and returns to the hospital. Her hair is still wet, and she didn’t even bother to put makeup on. The surgery is over, and she can finally see Lance again. Seeing him, in his hospital bed, with his casts on moves her. She keeps your tear to herself and goes to kiss him. Acting as normal as possible. Even though inside of her, she just went to let her pain out. Let it out to the world and be normal again.

The week passed, and his recovery went rapidly, and the possibility of him getting back in the car was more and more present now. She gets nightmares every night, and each worsens, keeping her awake. Sometimes, she sees Lance getting hurt in the car, in the street. Sometimes it’s her being persecuted by Lance, her family, and his family for how an awful mother she is, for losing this child. So, she lays awake in bed every night, waiting till the morning comes.

It’s the first of the year. Overwhelmed and tired. She enters the paddock with him. Her glasses are up to her nose, and her head is down.

It’s FP1, and she’s decided to stay in Lance’s driver's room to try and get some rest. She rested her head on her fist as her tired eye slowly started to close. Her lips slightly parted, and she drifted away. Forgetting all the sound and the agitation around her.

A dream begins to appear in her mind. Images and sounds start to occur more for her as she finds herself on track, in the middle of it. Her eyes wander around her. All the lights on the track are on, but no spectators, no sounds, and no vibration.

Then the sound of a Formula One car begins to reach her far away, like a storm. The atmosphere becomes heavy and humid. She is unable to move or step forward. Just her eyes move from left to right. She feels her heart palpitating, her breathing pressing, and her body hair bristling.

She feels that her body is reacting violently to what is happening. As if a great danger is going to happen and she can do nothing to stop it. She’s watching her own misery.

Then, in the distance, she sees the car heading straight toward her. The ground begins to vibrate under the pressure of the coming storm. The wind blows violently, and her breath is cut off.

She blinks, ready to scream with all her lungs, when suddenly she feels a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her.

Her eyelids suddenly open, and she desperately seeks her breath. She crosses the worried look of Lance, who still holds her shoulder.

He’s still in his suit. Light sweat on his forehead. His fireproof clothes are soaked with sweat, and his suit is tied around his waist.

“Are you okay?” He questions, visibly concerned.

“What time is it?” She asks, still confused by her dream.

“Haft past seven, I think.” She looks at him confused but sits up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired...” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes.

Lance didn’t believe a word she said. He knows this lack of sleep has been going on for a while now, even though he didn’t say anything initially, thinking that all this stress comes from his accident. He wanted to prove to her that everything was going well for him by going up to the Grand Prix and into that car, but he sees that it is no longer that that bothers her, but something else.

“Your eyes are red. Did you get enough sleep last night?” She sighs. She doesn’t want him to be distracted. Not right now, not now. She wants to tell him so badly. All this sadness and pain she feels, but she has to wait.

“I had a bad dream.” She says, looking up at him. “I’ve been having the same dream over and over for the last few weeks, and it’s keeping me awake, and I can’t sleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You should have woken me.” His voice calmed the storm inside her mind, making her focus on what was really important.

“I wanted to, but every time I turned around in the bed, you’re here with your cast and blaster, and you finally look peaceful, relaxed, and rested. I just couldn’t do it.”

Lance let it go, but that night. He lay awake next to her. He waited until she closed her eyes to finally closes his. The next day flies by, and the excellent result comes in. She didn’t sleep much, but at least Lance took her in his arms all night, making her feel safe again.

It’s already Sunday, and the race went amazingly. Lance got P6 despite the pain and everything. She’s full of joy and sadness at the same time. Watching him being happy again makes her heart full, but at the same time, she can’t stop thinking. Thinking about what could have been. What will it be? She can’t hold it back and start crying when they return to his driver’s room.

“Hey. Hey, baby. What’s going on?” He asks, taking her into his arm. “It’s all right, I’m all right.”

“No...”

“What is it?

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you crying? Has something happened?”

“I lost it.”

“What?”

“I lost our baby.”

“What are you talking about.” Lance wanders, worried. “Breathe, baby.”

“I’ve lost our baby.” She whispers, finally calming down. She breathes before continuing. “I found out I was pregnant a week before your accident, and I wanted to be sure before telling you anything, but...”

“But I crash my bike.”

“I don’t know why, but I did a miscarriage when you were admitted to the hospital.”

“You went through this alone?” He asks, surprised it’s been this long.

“I didn’t want to put more on your plate, I...” She started to cry again, not wanting him to be mad at her. Lance feels bad and pulls her close to him.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad; I just wish you had told me sooner. I want to be there for you as you are for me.” he says, kissing your temple. “That’s why you are not okay for the past weeks?” She nods, her head resting on his chest. “We should see the doctor to see if everything is okay.”

She nods again to his suggestion and stays like this for several minutes. Listening to his heartbeat. They never discuss the possibility of having a baby, but Lance never shows he is against the idea of having children. He wants kids, but he never thoughts it would be this young, this soon.

He does not know how to feel after this revelation and must admit that he is disturbed by what could have been. A small them. A mix between her and him. He sighs and squeezes her harder.

“Will try again,” he spoke softy. “And this time, we will be ready.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, looking him in the eyes.

They went out for dinner that night. Just the two of them, alone. In their little comfort bubble, away from socials, friends or family. It’s only a few days after the Grand Prix that Lance took the time to make a post on his social. Looking back on his journey through recovery. On international women’s Day, he dedicated a beautiful message to her. Posting their first couple picture together on his Instagram.

In the garden, she looks peacefully away. The doctor says they will have no problem being pregnant again. He even proposed to put her to be on the pill. She thoughts about it and turned to Lance before saying she won't need it. Lets the faith decide what comes.

Later in the evening, she’s looking at the field of the lantern lighting up the sky. There is a special event in north London, and she begs Lance to go. Their wish lantern goes away with the ultrasound of their unborn baby on it. Saying a last proper goodbye. They watch it together, flying out. Flying away to heaven. Her head was on his shoulder.

“I'm glad you're feeling better.” He whispered in her ear. She smiles, delighted to have found peace and acceptance. To accept the loss. To accept the misfortune. To accept destiny.

When they went back to Monaco weeks later. She had never been more in love with him.

She's in his arms. On a boat. Looking at the sunset while listening to his multiple stories. She loves hearing him talking. She kisses his cheeks while he looks around the mountains and the ocean around them. His arms are around her body, keeping her close to his chest. Feeling her light skin warm by the sun. He finally settles in, contemplating her. She smiles. A real smile. Fill with love and admiration. He pulls her hair out, telling her how much he loves her. Scooping her face in his hand and giving her a kiss. Pulling her into a warm hug.

“My little fireflies.”

#lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fluff

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