#Spanish trail

[autotrails]

American Auto Trail-Spanish Trail (Monticello UT to Cortez CO)

American Auto Trail-Spanish Trail (Monticello UT to Cortez CO) https://youtu.be/4XklqqIqzEA This American auto trail explores the Spanish Trail of the 19th century from Monticello, Utah, to outside Cortez, Colorado.

[greatinterest]

Open - Eclectic Family Room Family room - large eclectic open concept marble floor, white floor and vaulted ceiling family room idea with a bar, gray walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a media wall

[wandering-jana]

Spanish Pond Trail.

Timucuan Preserve, Florida

June 2024

[williammarksommer]

Spanish Trail Motel

Lost Highway series

Hasselblad 500c/m

Kodak Ektar 100iso

[takemeawayfae]

Jacksonville Botanical Gardens

[atsushis-fangs]

Hamish: you see, none of these required an intervention, Killough's just a bitch North: okay, but consider, it was really funny

@winterwrites23

[99griffon]

Top Day 2 Rio Grande pics!

Love taking binoc pics 🤡

[godallaswriter]

Santa Fe: Getting to Know The City Different

It has been more than a decade since I lived in Santa Fe. But it’s a city one cannot easily forget. In many ways, it’s a city that I will always miss. I fell in love with Santa Fe the first time I visited, about 1975, and I still cherish the years that I lived and worked there.   Long described by both residents and visitors as “The City Different,” Santa Fe was known by its earliest inhabitants…

[followjacobbarlow]

Rafael Rivera

[patronsaintofmath]

i will jot it down here so as to not forgot my adventure of today. went to pick up omd at his house in palo alto to go to pincushion. drove up playing cumbias & the drive to pincushion was so scenic i almost pulled over & told him to drive bc i wanted to just enjoy the view. but anyways once we made it to the cattle chute, he showed me a little tunnel where there’s a bunch of graffiti & there we found a dead cow. he said that isn’t the first time he’s seen that & that it’s quite sad the cows go there to die. so he reached out his hand to help me back up & we went through the regular trail. there was a random pair of jeans left at the entrance. there was a lot of incline. thankfully there were some spots where it was flat for like 20 ft so i would stop there & take pictures as an excuse to catch a break but omd told me i handled the incline well. i asked him if he knew any jokes so he tried to think of dad jokes but the only one he knew was smth like “why was the pterodactyl quiet when he went to the bathroom,” & i said smth bc of the P & he’s like yeah the P[ee] is silent. at the top, there were 3 women w a speaker blasting music. i was kinda upset at that. i just wanted peace & quiet at the top. so i hurried up to get to the highest point where they weren’t. omd stopped to talk to them so i was alone for a bit at the top js sitting there. then he came up & we just hung out for maybe 10 minutes but the little bugs kept flying at me so i got up & he took that as his cue to get going too. so we took down a different trail so we could do a loop. i wish i could remember the turns we made but all i remember is a right after the pincushion peak. he was telling me about how i gotta make college friends bc those are the people that will be good to have around 30 years from now. then we talked about the 1800s & videogames & mexican culture. i was skipping & jumping about when we were going downhill, uphill, & on flat land. i was having so much fun hiking! ok then we made it back to the car & dude told me about pizza factory & i was like ok so we went down there. omd said we could split a sandwich & he’d pay for it but in my mind i was like nah i need more than half a sandwich so the only logical thing to do was tell him “nah i got us this time” bc he had paid last time & i secretly had the plan to order myself a whole sandwhich. so then he just paid for his beer & he got a salad which i noticed was cheaper than the sandwhich so i wonder if he got that bc it was cheaper but anyways. then we were outside & that’s when he started talking about religion & politics & eugenics & DNA & yellowjackets & so much other stuff. he also asked if i knew something about DNA (the topic escapes me now) but at the time i did so i said yes & he’s like yeah you went to edison you’re a smart girl LIKE PEOPLE THINK THAT JUST BC I WENT TO EDISON IM SMART NO YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THAT I SUCK AS A STUDENT but thank you for thinking so highly of me. then on the drive back we listened to doors & he was asking about my music choices & that’s when i showed him that i put his playlist on spotify. the whole ride back he talked about music. then we arrive to his house & invited me in & i step into some sort of office that is not an office actually but a room full of antique stuff. & the living room & entrance were the same way. but he was so excited to show me everything & i noticed that. he showed me some art he made w sticks & branches he found. he polished & glued rocks on top of them. thinking back about it now it reminds me of ben making his stop motion animation film from parks&rec. oh & i met seth & he’s jokingly telling me to buy omd’s stuff bc he has so much stuff & wants it gone & he’s like [omd] likes you he can give you a discount & i was like oh my goodness ive been accepted as a person 😭. & when omd had introduced me to seth he said it like he had already talked about me to seth so PEOPLE ARE PERCEIVING ME NOOO. dude has a huge house. an office, 4 bedrooms, kitchen, living room, laundry room, 2 bathrooms, & a big ass backyard W A POOL & JACUZZI

[autotrails]

American Auto Trail-National Old Trails Road (Route 66) (Cajon Pass to San Bernardino CA)

American Auto Trail-National Old Trails Road (Route 66) (Cajon Pass to San Bernardino CA) https://youtu.be/ZPKGAy7CHfw This American auto trail explores Route 66, between Cajon and San Bernardino, California.

[destination4x4]

Old Spanish Trail (Garces Expedition)

Old Spanish Trail (Garces Expedition) is a Nevada State Historic Marker Number 140 located in Clark County, Nevada. This marker is one of several which tell the history of the Old Spanish Trail in Nevada. The Old Spanish Trail is a 700 mile long historical trade route that connected the northern New Mexico settlements near Santa Fe, New Mexico with those of Los Angeles, California. The trail’s…

[mickyschumacher]

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐎 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a long awaited summer break, you were expecting to have a good sleep in with carlos, but his plans for you are slightly different. or in which you convince carlos' to turn his morning cardio into something a little more fun.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), few untranslated spanish words, p in v, teasing, oral sex, kinda fluffy, poor humour, breastplay, dryhumping (bc i am nothing without this), fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, i love you's.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: while this wasn't what i initially was working on, i've momentarily gotten some free time amongst the chaos, you deserve some work, and carlos has been looking pretty delectable 🤭 // poorly proof-read sorry ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

You weren't a fan of working out. Never had been and was never going to be.

It wasn't that you didn't see the point of it. You were well versed in the science: it was good for you. It helped your body, soothed you mentally, and overall, kept you in a pretty good mood if you kept the right balance.

Your problem lied within the methods.

Take your dear boyfriend, for example.

Carlos loved working out. You weren't sure whether it was because he was an F1 driver or whether it was just Carlos himself. But he spent almost every living moment off the tracks with some form of physical activity.

You had memorised his routine quite well: a lengthy morning run, training with his personal trainer, his beloved choices of golf or paddle, followed by the occasional swimming or God forbid, another run.

Carlos tried to get you 'hooked' on to it all, claiming it's better to workout with someone as opposed being by yourself. But his efforts were to no avail.

You had important things to do... like catching up on your beauty sleep.

"Mi amor," The rasp of Carlos' voice lingered through the early morning air, cold hands trailing over your back. He pressed his lips at the silent response, watching you not a budge even a centimetre in your sleep.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he pressed his knees onto the edge of your bed, bending down to push your hair behind your ears. "Cariño," He called softly, making you hum in response.

"Carlos," you mumbled with sleep heavy in your voice. "You better not ask–"

"Come on a run with me," Carlos pleaded.

You forced an eye open, wincing at the immediate white light surrounding you. Blinking rapidly, you honed in on the Spaniard who was already dressed for his venture, batting his brown puppy eyes towards you.

"Handsome, you know I love you very much," you cooed, pressing your head further into the warmth of your pillow, "But I'd rather watch Lewis go to Ferrari."

An abrupt slice of cold air trickled past your bare skin and thin clothes. You yelped, covering your body, immediately missing the comforting heat of your duvet. "Carlos!" You scolded, much more awake now.

Carlos gave you a sickly sweet smile. "Say unwarranted things, get unwarranted things," He shrugged nonchalantly before grabbing your ankle to drag you off the mattress.

"No, no, no, no," you groaned, squirming in his grip. Pouting your lips, you quickly reached over to grab Carlos' hand. "Please," you whined.

"My sweet girl," Carlos started, "I just want you to join me. I promise you it'll be good. It's fun morning cardio!"

You grimaced at the chirpy tone he had taken on. 'Fun morning cardio'... how insufferable.

Feeling Carlos loosen his grip, you yanked your ankle back and got on your knees, sinking down on the soft mattress. "Carlos," You murmured, hands travelling up his arms as you leaned in.

Carlos narrowed his eyes, quickly knowing you were up to something with that sweet tone of yours.

"Baby, name the better cardio. A morning run or..." You trailed off, hand travelling down his arm and past his thigh, resting dangerously close to his crotch. "... morning fun?"

Carlos let out a dramatic sigh but he couldn't keep the quirk of his lips at bay. He stretched out his thick arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he fully pulled you over him. A quick nudge to your knees left you straddling him.

"More energy burnt," you murmured in the venture of a fake persuasion even though you already had the answer. Carlos' hand reached out to push your hair behind your ears before landing on the soft pillows of your lips. Nervously you inhaled, "And a whole lot more pleasure."

You stared at Carlos. Taking in those puppy brown eyes, the warmth of his skin, those God-made eyelashes, and each little freckle mixed with the burden of racing on his face. It was the first day of summer break and even though Carlos was pulling you out of bed to work out in the morning, you couldn't help but be a little thankful. You missed him. You had both been so busy lately and it felt like you hadn't seen each other in months.

"What's on your mind, cariño?" Carlos whispered, thumb still trailing the shape of your lips as those very same brown eyes searched yours.

"Nothing. I just missed you. And your stupid morning cardio," You rolled your eyes. "Is that a crime?"

"Then I'm guilty as charged," Carlos confessed, not missing the softening of your eyes as he held you tighter against him. "All I've been thinking about since the race at home is coming back to you."

Carlos' home race in Spain was the last time you had met before long-distance had embedded it's nasty claws into you once again

"Yeah?" You whispered, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. "Anything in particular?"

Carlos took a deep breath in, your signature fragrance engulfing him. Goodness, were you intoxicating. "Well... there was picnics, breakfast, golf, and the beach on the agenda. And... morning fun."

A gasp left your mouth as Carlos fell back first onto the mattress, bringing his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that difference but the need, the love, the softness, and the brutal passion was suddenly pouring into every fibre of your being.

Your hands fell around his neck and hair, nose gliding near his as Carlos continued to ravage your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans escaping your lips. His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your burning skin exactly where the small freckles and bumps he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Carlos' ears as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled kisses down base of your skin.

You gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Carlos' bulge.

"Ah, mierda," Carlos cursed, feeling his cock throb in his shorts. His eyes fluttered shut, hands returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Carlos' clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Carlos," you moaned his name in his ear.

God, what were you two? Sex-crazed teenagers? Dry humping on each other like rabbits in heat.

"Hermosa," Carlos panted, eyebrows strained with the urge to cum yet give you all the pleasure he could. "I need... I need..." he breathed, "I need to be in you, fuck." His entire body shuddered with a sharp arousal while his cock could feeling your thin underwear becoming useless and drenched. It was as thin as his patience was wearing.

You made a poor attempt to nod, releasing a hand from his neck. You briefly lifted your hips, pushing your panties to the side. In doing so, your breath hitches as you feel your sensitive folds glide past your fingers.

"Oh, fuck," Carlos blubbered, losing himself in seeing your bare pussy and your reaction. "Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," He encouraged breathlessly, attempting to shove off his shorts with one hand.

Carlos watched in torture as you pushed your fingers into your warm walls, body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you, "Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, moving one hand down your hips, skimming past your burning thigh before reaching the small bundle of nerves situated near your hand.

"A little faster, baby," Carlos said, "You're already so fucking wet. Pump those fingers... let me see how much you missed me."

You were already moaning in a haze at the praises leaving his lips, pushing your fingers in faster, unable to see how your engorged folds took them in as your eyes focused on the ceiling. But the moment you felt the pad of Carlos' thumb on your clit, you had given up every ounce of respect you had for yourself.

"Oh, shit, oh shit," you cursed, hips bucking up at his action. Your eyes shut tightly. The white light of ecstasy felt close. Your hand sped up faster, your hips went against your fingers and his thump with a more brutal force, feeling his aching cock bounce under you... Christ, you were going to cum. And hard.

The light... so close...

And just like that, it was gone.

You snapped your eyes open, falling to your pussy to see Carlos' hand retreating. "Mierda... no, baby, Carlos, " you cursed without looking at his face. But the moment you did, you understood him.

His hooded eyes told you everything. The throbbing his aching cock was bringing him, his slurred state of mind, and his firm desire to make you cum on his cock.

You kept your eyes on him, savouring the hiss falling from his lips as your took his cock out of his underwear. You gave a small smile, guiding his angry member to your puffy folds. You both released hitched moans when you rubbed your pussy against his cock.

You watched as Carlos purposely lifted his hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your body convulse for a brief second. Fucking hell. That was enough for the both of you. Cumming just by rubbing yourselves on each other was equally as worse as cumming by dry humping each other.

You pressed your lips together, pushing his cock slowly into your pussy. Christ, he was always so big. Thick and pulsing in your hands, stretching your pussy out no matter how many times you made love as if it were the first time.

Carlos groaned, both hands firmly placed on your hips, head falling back onto the bed headboard. God, it had been so long. He missed your touch everyday. But the feeling of his cock in your pussy... he thought about it every second of every day.

You pushed your hips down flat, ensuring Carlos bottomed out. You groaned at the full feeling of his cock in you, eyeing the small bulge in your stomach. "Fuck, you fill me up so well, baby," you praised.

Carlos moaned in response. "Ride me baby. You know I like when you ride me."

You managed a smile, taking off the singlet you had slept in. The self control Carlos had for your breasts was little. Especially, when they bounced in front of him like they were right now. His hands almost immediately shot out, groping the soft mounds with all his might.

Immersed in your tits, his body trembled when you rose your hips and slammed down on his cock, repeating the movement again. "Ah, shit," Carlos cussed, drunk on your pussy.

You ground your hips forward as you rode his cock, stimulating the pure pleasure of grinding on one another. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Carlos' hand reach towards your clit. Your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

Carlos intently watched you, rubbing your clit in soft circles. He could see you slowly fall apart, the fast rhythm of your hips slowing down and becoming sporadic. Your body was shaking with pleasure, your hands reaching towards his thick biceps.

He continued your work for you, lifting your hips with his one hand on your waist. He grunted, feeling you clench around his cock. "Cum... cum for me," he beckoned, increasing the speed of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit.

He smiled at the complete lost look that had fallen on your face. Your body jerked and convulsed over him, your brain unable to control it any longer. Your climax hit you hard as he denied your previous one not too long ago. Your whine was high pitched and dazed. You were completely lost in pleasure.

Your pleasure only fuelled his own. Your walls were holding his cock like a vice, clamping down on him. You could feel his throbbing cock overstimulating your sensitive pussy.

Carlos groaned at the feel of his twitching cock in your walls. He panted, hips racing to chase the urge to cum. "Yes, yes, yes," he mumbled, falling victim to your praises falling from your soft lips and the clench of your pussy.

You both groaned when you felt the hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. HIs hips stuttered, faltering against yours as you took every last drop from his cock.

Carlos buried his chin into your neck, riding out his last few moments of his climax. "Fuck," he mumbled, letting out a small exhale as he moved his head back and looked at you. He laughed softly at your tired look. He placed a few lingering kisses across your neck, coming to your lips last. "I love you," he murmured against them.

You smiled gently. "Forever?" you asked.

"Forever," Carlos confirmed, placing a kiss on your forehead. Slowly, he removed his softening cock from your pussy. You both watched his cum mixed with your spill out of you.

You looked up at Carlos, eyeing the dark look on his face. You sighed. "Morning fun or not, give me at least ten minutes. If not thirty!"

Carlos chuckled, moving out from under you and standing in front of you in an unbecoming state that would make his closest friends laugh at him. He swooped you into his arms making you yelp. "Let's take a shower. I'll clean you."

You raised a brow, hands hung around his neck. "Just cleaning? That doesn't sound like you," you retorted.

Carlos smirked, walking you to the bathroom. "You're right. I'll clean you, fuck you, and clean you again."

Oh…

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[mastermigraciones]

Family Room Open Las Vegas Family room - large eclectic open concept marble floor, white floor and vaulted ceiling family room idea with a bar, gray walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a media wall

[pucksandpower]

Lost in Translation

Lando Norris x Reader + Carlos Sainz x Reader + Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: in which Lando doesn’t speak a word of Spanish, Carlos turns out to be the world’s worst translator, and Fernando is an opportunist

Warnings: manipulation

The bass thumps through the walls as you make your way through the crowded club, dancing bodies packed together under pulsing lights. You’re exhausted after a long day of photoshoots, but your agent insisted you make an appearance at this exclusive afterparty following the Spanish Grand Prix. Being seen is part of the job when you’re an up and coming model.

You spot an open stool at the far end of the bar and gratefully sink onto it, kicking off your heels under the counter. The bartender appears through the chaos, shouting something in English you don’t understand over the music. You shake your head apologetically and order in Spanish.

“One glass of red wine, please.”

As you wait, you glance around the club. Famous faces from the world of Formula 1 mix with socialites and celebrities. You recognize a few drivers and team bosses, fresh from the race.

Your gaze lands on a young man seated a few stools down, wearing a McLaren team jacket. His curly brown hair falls softly over his forehead as he leans against the bar, engrossed in his phone. Something about him looks familiar.

“Here you go.” The bartender sets your drink down. You smile your thanks and take a long sip, letting the bright aged flavors wash over your tongue. The alcohol warms your limbs, relaxing away the strains of the day.

You’re debating whether to stay for another drink or head back to your hotel when you feel the stool next to you shift. The young man in the McLaren jacket takes a seat, flashing you a charming grin.

“Hi there,” he says, his English words foreign to your ears. Up close he’s even more handsome, with lively color changing eyes and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. You don’t understand what he’s saying, but his body language is obvious.

You give him a coy smile in return. “Hello.”

He seems unfazed by the language barrier, launching into a lively stream of English as he signals the bartender for two drinks. You watch his lips form around the exotic words, catching a name here and there.

Lando. McLaren. Spain.

Each syllable musical and indecipherable.

When the fresh drinks arrive, you clink glasses together. The liquor slides down easily, warming your cheeks. You can’t understand Lando, but the spark in his eyes needs no translation. He’s flirting. And you’re enjoying the attention after a long day on your feet.

As the night wears on, you drift closer together, thighs brushing on the stools, hands slyly grazing. The pulsing music and alcohol blur the edges of your thoughts into a pleasant haze. All that matters are Lando’s eyes locked on yours, and the building tension that thrums under his touch.

Eventually he stands, holding out a hand with that charming grin. You don’t hesitate, letting him lead you through the sea of bodies toward the exit, the noise fading behind you.

The cool night air hits your skin as you step outside. Lando hails a cab, and you slide across the backseat, thighs pressed together. His hand comes to rest on your knee and you lace your fingers through his, exchanging coy glances in the darkness.

When the cab stops at your hotel, Lando insists on walking you to your room. As you step into the lobby, the bright lights feel harsh after the dimness of the club. Lando’s hand rests lightly on your lower back, guiding you towards the elevators.

In the mirrored walls of the elevator, you catch sight of your smudged makeup and tousled hair. Lando stands close behind you, eyes trailing over your figure in the reflection. You feel a flush rising on your cheeks that has nothing to do with the wine.

The walk down the plush hotel hallway feels endless, heightened by anticipation. Your hands brush and you exchange coy glances, the flirtatious tension building. At last you stop outside your door. Hands fumbling, you slide the key card into the lock while Lando waits eagerly beside you.

As soon as the door clicks open, his mouth is on yours. You melt into the kiss, the taste of liquor sweet on his lips. Stumbling backwards, you lead him into the room, fingers tangled in his soft curls.

You come up for air long enough to kick off your heels. Lando’s eyes blaze with desire as he shrugs off his jacket and reaches for you again. You meet him halfway, lips fused together, hands roaming. The backs of your legs hit the bed and you tumble backwards, pulling him down on top of you.

You lose yourself in the feeling of his body against yours, hard muscle under smooth skin. Gasps and moans fill the air as clothes are discarded piece by piece onto the plush carpet. The rest of the world fades away until all that’s left is skin on skin, racing heartbeats, the slide of sweat-slick limbs.

After, you lie tangled together as your breathing slows, floating back down to earth. Lando traces lazy patterns on your arm as you drift towards sleep, spent and sated.

The morning sun streaming through the curtains wakes you. For a moment you’re disoriented, then the memories of last night come flooding back. You stretch and roll over, expecting to find Lando, but the other side of the bed is empty.

You sit up, holding the sheet around you, and spot him standing by the window on his phone. He glances over at you with a sheepish smile. “Good morning,” he says.

You return the greeting in Spanish, then pause, realization dawning. Now, in the harsh light of day without the haze of alcohol, the language barrier stretches wide between you.

Lando seems to have come to the same conclusion. He looks at you helplessly and says something in English you don’t understand. You shake your head and respond in rapid Spanish, trying to explain that you don’t speak his language. But your words have no more meaning to him than his do to you.

You both stare at each other in bewilderment. Last night things had seemed so simple, but now you have no way to communicate. Lando runs a hand through his hair in frustration. You wish you could bridge the gap between you, but Spanish and English remain foreign tongues.

After a few more failed attempts at conversation, Lando pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his contacts, then seems to find what he’s looking for. Putting the phone to his ear, he says clearly, “Carlos, mate, I need your help.”

***

Lando lowers the phone from his ear just as a knock sounds at the door.

“That was fast,” he says with a relieved grin, crossing the room to open it.

You quickly pull on a hotel robe and smooth your tangled hair as much as possible. From the bed, you watch as Lando ushers another man into the room. He’s tall and handsome, with warm brown eyes and an easy smile. Something about him seems instantly familiar and trustworthy.

“Carlos, this is ...” Lando pauses and glances back at you with an apologetic look, realizing he doesn’t know your name.

“My name is Y/N,” you offer, giving the newcomer a small wave.

His face lights up in recognition. “Y/N Y/L/N! The Spanish model!”

You flush, surprised and flattered that he knows who you are. Before you can respond, Carlos turns to Lando and launches into rapid English. Though you don’t understand the words, his tone sounds polite yet teasing, making Lando blush faintly.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Lando mutters, running a hand through his curls. “Just tell her I’m happy to meet her and I had a great time last night.”

Carlos nods and looks at you with a hint of mischief in his warm brown eyes. “He says you are very boring and he regrets last night, but wants to let you down gently.”

You frown in confusion. That didn’t sound like a compliment at all. Lando is watching you expectantly, oblivious.

“Tell him I don’t understand why,” you say carefully.

Carlos turns back to Lando. “She says you’re an arrogant prick and she wants you to leave.”

“What?” Lando looks taken aback. “Where did that come from? Tell her I’d love to get to know her better over breakfast or something.”

“He says it was nice of you to help scratch his itch last night but he has better options,” Carlos tells you bluntly.

You fold your arms across your chest, irritation flaring. The flirtatious spark between you and Lando last night seems to have vanished in the light of day, replaced by this stilted miscommunication.

Lando’s brows knit together as he tries again. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended her in some way. Let her know I’d like the chance to make it up to her before I go.”

Carlos’ expression softens as he turns to you. “He says you aren’t bad to look at and you not being able to speak English is a bonus because that means he doesn’t have to listen to you talk.”

You nod slowly as anger takes over. “Tell him I want him gone now.”

“She says you’re the stupid one for thinking she wanted anything from you other than your money,” Carlos tells Lando.

Lando shoves his hands in his pockets, looking disappointed. “I-I thought we had a good connection.”

A hint of steel enters Carlos’ eyes. “He says that if he wanted a gold-digger, he would at least choose someone who looks good on his arm.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. Why would he say such a terrible thing? Anger replaces any lingering attraction you felt for Lando. You turn away, fists clenched, humiliation burning in your cheeks.

Lando looks utterly confused. “What … I don’t … Carlos, what is going on?” He stammers helplessly.

But Carlos is already at your side, murmuring comfortingly in Spanish as he guides you toward the door. “Don’t pay attention to him, he’s not worth it. Come with me.”

You let Carlos wrap a supportive arm around your shoulders, tears of frustration pricking your eyes. With one last glare at a dumbfounded Lando, you sweep out of the hotel room.

As Carlos leads you down the hall, you lean into his side, reassured by his solid presence. “Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. “I just don’t know why he was so mean ...”

“I’ll take care of it,” he says with a wink. Whatever just happened between you and Lando, you’re grateful to have found a quick friend in Carlos.

And judging by the sparks you felt when he first said your name, perhaps he could be something more. For now, you push that thought aside, the day has already had enough drama.

***

The weeks following the awkward encounter with Lando fly by in a whirlwind of model castings, photoshoots, and fashion shows. But you find your thoughts continually drifting back to Carlos and his warm brown eyes.

When he calls you up and invites you to the upcoming Austrian Grand Prix as his guest, you happily accept. The chance to get to know him better away from the drama with Lando is too tempting to pass up.

The paddock thrums with excitement on race day. You smooth down the skirt of your flowy sundress and take Carlos’ arm as he guides you through the bustling team garages toward the pit lane. Your heels click sharply on the pavement, echoing the anticipation building in your chest.

Mechanics and engineers pause in their work to glance your way appreciatively. You flush under their gazes but keep your chin high. On Carlos’ arm, you feel like you belong.

As you near the bright papaya of the McLaren garage, Carlos casually steers you down a side path to avoid walking right by. You feel a twinge of relief not to chance running into Lando. That awkward morning is firmly in the past.

But as you round a corner, you find yourselves face to face with him. Lando stops short, eyes widening. For a moment, the three of you stand frozen. Then Lando breaks into a tentative smile.

“Y/N! I didn’t realize you’d be here. You look lovely.” His English words sound friendly enough, but you cling tighter to Carlos’ arm, waiting for the translation.

Carlos’ expression remains neutral. “He says your dress is too tight and it’s not a flattering look.”

You gasp, stung by the insult. All your insecurities about your body that you constantly fight to overcome as a model come flooding back at his cruel words.

Lando’s brows furrow in confusion, clearly sensing Carlos’ interpretation was off. “No, I just said she looks nice ...” He turns his attention to you, eyes pleading. “Y/N, I’m so sorry about what happened last time. I’d love the chance to take you out properly while we’re both here this weekend.”

Suppressing a smug smile, Carlos translates for you. “He says that while you’re not his first choice, you are easy in bed and he would like for you to come to his suite this evening.”

Tears of humiliation spring to your eyes. You stare at Lando in shock, feeling betrayed. Attraction turns to disgust in a heartbeat. How could you have ever felt a connection with someone who views you as nothing but an object for pleasure?

Lando is shaking his head frantically, obviously bewildered by your reaction. “I don’t know what you’re telling her, but this is not what I said!” He reaches out imploringly but you recoil from his touch.

He steps towards you but is cut off as your stiletto slams down hard onto his foot. He yelps in pain, hopping back. The slap of your palm across his cheek echoes through the empty side path.

“You are a disgusting pig!” You spit at him in your native Spanish. With a dramatic flip of your hair, you spin on your heel and storm away, fuming. Behind you, Carlos scrambles to catch up.

“Y/N! Wait!” Hearing his familiar voice, your rage melts. You pause, sniffling, and let Carlos pull you into a comforting hug.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, gently stroking your hair. “Lando is an idiot.”

You nod against his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut to hold back tears. Carlos’ steady presence soothes you. As your breathing finally calms, a voice speaks up from behind.

“Such dramatics!”

You turn to see Fernando Alonso striding towards you, an amused smile on his handsome face. He nods at your foot.

“That was quite the stomp you gave Lando back there,” he remarks with a chuckle. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, hermosa.”

You can’t help but smile back shyly. Of all the people to witness your outburst, it had to be your longtime idol in Formula 1.

“I’m sorry, I thought he said something rude about me,” you explain with an embarrassed wince.

Fernando waves his hand dismissively. “No need to apologize. I could tell something was getting lost in translation between the three of you.”

He shoots Carlos a pointed look. Carlos shrinks back and avoids Fernando’s gaze, shuffling his feet.

“Those younger drivers are still boys when it comes to women,” Fernando continues, turning his attention back to you. “You deserve better than to be caught in the middle of their silly games.”

His worldly confidence and flattering words make you flush. Glancing between Fernando and Carlos, you start to question the latter’s intentions. Did he mistranslate on purpose back in Spain to drive a wedge between you and Lando?

Fernando seems to read your uncertainty. He extends a hand to help you to your feet.

“Why don’t you walk with me instead of these children? I can show you what a real man looks like.” The challenge in his daring smile quickens your pulse.

You let him pull you up, feeling your anger over Lando’s remarks transforming into starstruck awe.

As he starts to lead you off, Carlos finds his voice again. “Wait, Y/N, please ...” he calls after you, distraught. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I care about you!”

But Fernando silences him with a scornful glare. “Don’t waste your breath. You had your chance.” With that, he guides you away, leaving a crestfallen Carlos behind.

Adrenaline courses through you at the unexpected turn of events. The paddock seems to part around you as Fernando walks with you, head held high. His hand on your back feels possessive in a thrilling way.

When curious eyes drift your way, Fernando pulls you tighter to his side in a clear message — she’s with me. Your heart pounds at the public claim over you.

As you walk, Fernando points out details of the garage and pit activities, answering your stream of awed questions. His deep knowledge amazes you as he describes complex race strategy like reading a storybook.

The command he wields here is clear. And by sticking close, some of that power transfers to you. Other women eye you enviously as you pass. For the first time, instead of feeling exposed in their judging looks, you feel empowered.

With Fernando, you have nothing to prove. He sees you, not as a dumb model or conquest, but an equal worthy of respect. When you hesitantly voice that thought, he smiles.

“Too few of the idiots here appreciate women for their minds,” he agrees. “But I enjoy a sharp intellect as much as beauty.”

You practically glow at the validation. Any lingering hurt or anger melts away, replaced with lightness.

Maybe things will work out just as they should after all.

***

The rest of the season and off-season flies by in a whirlwind of excitement and new experiences with Fernando. When he asks you to accompany him to the 2025 season opener in Australia, you eagerly accept.

In the months since that dramatic Austrian weekend, your bond has only grown stronger. Fernando makes you feel treasured and respected. Under his wing, you’ve blossomed in confidence.

And that extends to English. Fernando gently encouraged you to start lessons so you could navigate the international world of Formula 1. You dove in headfirst, determined to prove yourself.

Now, as you and Fernando arrive at the bustling Melbourne paddock hand in hand, you can’t wait to show off your progress. Fernando smiles proudly at your enthusiasm.

“Ready to give your English a try, hermosa?” He asks, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

You take a deep breath and nod. The words still feel clumsy on your tongue, but Fernando’s steadying presence emboldens you.

As you approach the row of motorhomes, your strides slow. The last time you saw Carlos and Lando still stings. But with Fernando beside you, you have nothing to fear.

Right on cue, the two young drivers come around the corner. They stop short at the sight of you, eyes widening. An awkward beat passes before Lando breaks the tension.

“Y/N … you look well,” he says carefully. Carlos shifts on his feet but stays silent.

Fernando gives them a curt nod. “Lando. Carlos.” His voice carries a note of warning — don’t try anything.

You lift your chin. Time to take control of this narrative. “Hello Lando. Carlos,” you respond in slow, deliberate English. “I am good. And you?”

They gape at you in surprise. “You’re speaking English now?” Carlos asks. “That’s great!”

You resist the urge to fall back on your native Spanish. Fernando believes in you.

“Yes, I learn,” you tell Carlos. “Fernando helps me … how you say … empower?” You glance at Fernando to confirm you have the right word. His approving smile emboldens you.

Lando looks bemused. “Er, that’s great. Your English is really coming along.”

You frown. The subtle condescension in his tone irks you. Your skills may be basic still, but you deserve respect.

“Do not patronize me,” you say sharply, the unfamiliar words feeling powerful on your tongue. “I am try my best. You just … how you say … celoso?” Again you double check with Fernando.

“Jealous is the word, I believe,” he confirms with a wink.

You grin. “Yes, jealous! You are just jealous of me and Fernando.”

Lando holds up his hands in protest. “No, that’s not it at all, I’m happy for you ...”

But you barrel on, relishing this opportunity to at last be understood. “You think I am just a model, not smart. But Fernando show me I can be smart AND beautiful.”

You take a deep breath before delivering the final blow. “He says I have … potencial. He believes in me. Not like you two boys.”

Crossing your arms, you stare them down defiantly. The speech leaves you feeling bold and powerful, despite the clumsy delivery. Fernando squeezes your shoulder proudly.

“I think that sums it up nicely, querida,” he praises. “Shall we?”

You nod and let him guide you away, confidently walking past a stunned Lando and Carlos. Their widened eyes follow you, seeing you clearly for the first time.

Once out of earshot, Fernando pulls you into a passionate kiss. “I am so proud of you,” he murmurs. “You found your voice today.”

You cling to him, heart soaring. With Fernando, you have grown more in these few months than in years past. He never doubted you could reach higher and fulfill your potential.

Your moment is interrupted by enthusiastic shouts in Spanish. You turn to see your family rushing over, eager for their long awaited reunion.

Laughing, you break from Fernando’s embrace to greet them. As you chat animatedly in your native tongue, you feel Fernando’s admiring gaze on you.

Later, in a quiet moment together, he brushes a strand of hair from your face tenderly. “You contain multitudes, Y/N,” he remarks. “Never let anyone put limits on you.”

You snuggle closer, overflowing with love and gratitude. With Fernando, the possibilities seem endless. He believes in the woman you have always been and the woman you are becoming, and gives you strength.

Whatever the future brings, you know you will soar.

[luvrxbunny]

fangs

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Summary: You see Miguel’s fangs for the first time. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fangs, very minimal self-doubt, cum in pants (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.9k

A/N: I used google translate for the spanish so if anything is incorrect im sorry 

‘Your package was delivered’

Your face brightens at the notification as you hop out of bed and rush to the front door. When you open it you’re met with the broad, muscular back of your boyfriend, Miguel O’Hara.

“Miggy?” You say with a laugh. “What are you doing out here? Oh my god, are you my package?!” You’re hunched over, laughing at your own joke as Miguel stands from his seated position, casting his large shadow over you. 

“Hi, amor.” He places a kiss on your forehead and walks in. “How has your day been?” He asks as he strips off his suit top and walks to the bedroom but you don’t answer, still wondering about something. 

“Why were you just sitting out there?” You ask while closing the front door and taking your slippers off. Miguel hasn’t said anything, letting a long pause draw out before answering.

“I was calming down.” He comes back out in a t-shirt that’s tighter than it needs to be and some gray sweatpants. 

“The fight was pretty intense, a little demanding y’know? So I just wanted to- I wanted to calm down before coming inside… But how was your day?” You don’t let the subject change, still confused with his statement. 

There have been plenty of times when Miguel would burst in, still aggressive and amped up from the latest fight, adrenaline still coursing through him. The first time it happened you were a little scared of course, you’d never seen him like that, eyes clouded with violence, his claws out in the air and threatening, with a deep scowl on his face. But that was a long time ago.

You’ve mastered the art of turning him from Spider-Man to Miggy. You learned it quite some time ago, which just furthers your confusion from his response. He’s rummaging through the cabinets, muttering about how he’s starving and you realize he hasn’t met your gaze since you found him which is incredibly unlike him. 

“Miguel, is that the truth? I mean- You’ve come in all amped up before so…” You trail off as Miguel freezes in the kitchen before sighing and running a hand through his hair. He closes the cabinet gently and turns to you, eyes cast downward before meeting yours. He takes another breath and walks to you. “It’s the technical truth uh… The whole truth is that my fangs were out and… I just- I don’t want you to see them.” He finishes his sentence and walks past you, to the bathroom and closes the door. 

You stand at the entrance to the kitchen in a stupor as you process his words and go chasing after him. You’re pounding on the bathroom door, begging him to let you see them, to let you kiss him with them out, and every other thought that comes to your mind, hoping it lightens the situation. You stop pounding after a few minutes, arms growing tired and getting a little embarrassed at his silence. You make your way over to the couch as you wait for him. 

You think about what he said, that he doesn’t want you to see his fangs and you feel a little pang of hurt in your heart that ripples through your body. 

He doesn’t want me to see them? Why though… Does he think I won’t like them? Does he think my opinion of him will change or something? I love him though, doesn’t he understand that?? Maybe it’s something super intimate, maybe he just doesn’t feel enough for me, for him to expose himself like that. Maybe he doesn’t trust me enough to be that vulnerable, to give all of him to me… 

Your thoughts turn your mood sour as Miguel finally emerges from the bathroom, teeth brushed and face newly washed. “I don’t want to show them to you.” The words strike your heart again as you nod your head at him, not even looking up at him as you fall into your negative thoughts. He watches you stare into the carpet, obviously deep in thought but you look sad. 

“You okay, hermosa?” He wipes his hands in the towel around his neck as he sits beside you on the couch. You don’t hear him, too inside your own head, leaving him ignored. He watches you for a bit before grabbing one of your thighs and turning your body to face him, knocking you out of your trance. You have a deep, heartbreaking expression on your face that you quickly mask with happiness when your eyes meet his. “I asked if you were okay, baby.” 

“Oh! Y-yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, sorry.” You giggle at him but it sounds hollow, making him guilty. He already knows why, he knows how your mind works, he knows how you think. He pulls you in, one leg is extended past him and the other is folded on the couch, touching his leg, your face a few inches from his. 

“Mi cariño, no tiene nada to do with you, okay? Nothing. I just-” He emphasizes ‘nothing’, willing you to believe him. He’s absently rubbing your calf as he tries to piece together what he wants to say. “They’re weapons. I feel like… I don't think I want you to see that… A part of me that’s a weapon. You look at me like… como si fuera tu todo, like I hung the stars… I love that and I don’t want it to change. Nunca quiero que eso cambie.” His eyes are looking at your calf, how his hand wraps around it instead of you. 

(“My love, it has nothing to do with you okay?” “...like I'm your everything…” “I never want that to change.” )

If he had been looking at you he would’ve seen the look of utter disbelief that rested on your face. You put your hand over his and pull yourself closer to him, placing a kiss on his forehead before speaking. “Miguel, I look at you that way because, despite the way you feel about yourself, I believe that you deserve every good thing the world has to offer. I want you to know that you don’t have to show them to me if you really don’t want to but be aware… I will love you for the rest of my life.. and there is nothing that can change that, my feelings for you literally cannot decrease.” 

He stays silent, avoiding your gaze still but you let him. You know that expressing himself is hard for him and hearing people speak positively to him is even harder. You giggle softly at his silence and place another kiss on his head. You’re about to get up from the couch when he pulls you back in, pressing his lips to yours with a bruising intensity that has a fire starting up in your stomach. Your lips part for him as he sighs into you, his hand grips your hair and he grunts as you feel something push against your mouth. He’s breathing faster, kissing you more passionately as you try to pull away. 

Eventually, you break from his grasp and try to look at him but he’s already turned from you. You want to protest but don’t want to push him. You bring one of your hands to rest at his nape, playing with some of the hairs there, trying to soothe him. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to turn away, you can leave until he’s calmed down but he turns to you. His mouth is shut but his eyes are so fragile, like they’re pleading with you to be gentle. He holds your eye contact for a bit before opening his mouth in a smile-grimace expression. 

A gasp slips from your mouth and your hands come up to hold his face, pulling it to yours. You inspect his fangs as his warm breath floats over your face. You bring one hand from his face to tail over one of them, earning a flinch from Miguel but you run your other thumb across his cheek, attempting to soothe his worries. 

They’re much bigger than you expected, they look like they’d barely fit in his mouth. They’re smooth and glossy like marble, cleaner than you expected too. You wonder silently if he lets them come out, brushes them, and then retracts them as your other hand comes from his cheek to his mouth. They’re thick, they look like they could leave a sizeable puncture wound if he bit you. Your fingers squeeze around both fangs, feeling their width for yourself. Your fingers run along the length of his fangs and then go up to his gums. 

You’re completely captivated by his teeth, you haven’t even looked back up at him since he opened his mouth. You absently caress his fangs while inspecting his gums, trying to understand where they go when retracted. You give up on that when your thumb runs over the bottom of his fangs. 

He groans out, loud and ragged against your face. 

Your eyes flicker up to look at him and his eyes are rolled back into his head, eyebrows furrowed as he moans out a loose rendition of your name. You’re staring at him in awe as he mutters out a mix of unfinished words. You immediately look down into his lap and see a patch of dark gray spreading out. 

A moan rips from your throat as you press your hand against his hard, twitching, leaking cock and kiss him. His hips instantly twitch up into your hand, using the friction to prolong his orgasm. He’s moaning into your mouth, his hands are frantic as they push your head into his face, his fangs digging into your lips almost painfully. You slide your tongue into his mouth when he moans again, you explore it, feeling the fangs instantly and running your tongue over them. 

The action earns a gut-wrenching whine from Miguel as he starts to tremble. His hips are still bucking up into your palm, overstimulating himself as his cock spurts out mini loads. 

You pull away from him slowly, your hand gently massaging his cock as he comes down. He drops his head onto your shoulder as he pants, unsteady syllables of your name falling from his lips. 

He lifts his head from your shoulder once his cock stops jumping in your hold. There’s a rare pink hue over his face as he leans in to kiss you. You accept it with a smile, kissing him back before pulling away again. 

“So…” You start semi-awkwardly, a light laugh in your tone as he groans out, embarrassed. “Did that feel good? Are they sensitive?” A shuddering breath leaves him as he recalls how your fingers felt gliding over his fangs, how arousal punched into his gut the moment you touched them. 

“Yeah… It felt-” His sentence is cut off with a whisper of a whine as he thinks about it, breathing speeding up, chest heaving at the fresh memory. You’re surprised at this, you’ve never seen him so delirious so… fucked out. “Me sentí tan bien, bebé. N-no sabía que me sentía así. I loved it so much, you made me feel so fucking good, amor. Te amo tanto, cariño.” 

(“I felt so good, baby. I-I didn't know I felt like that”... “I love you so much, darling.”)

A smile graces your face at the one phrase you understand, ‘Te amo’. You pull him in for another kiss before whispering. “Good.” He groans and pulls you into his lap, whining when your weight presses against his sensitive cock. You smile into his lips and kiss him again, pulling away again to giggle at him. 

“ ‘S not funny.” He grumbles out as he leans back, laying down on the couch with you on top of him. You continue giggling into his neck and you can feel his cheeks fatten up with his smile. 

You guys stay there for the rest of the night, intermittently waking up to smother the other in kisses before falling back to sleep. 

Thank you so much for reading!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!