#driver x reader
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somejazzinthemorning · 1 year ago
Text
snapshot.
Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: overuse of pet names because i'm a romantic, masturbation, mentions of sex. not beta-d so sorry for typos or mistakes ] - Word Count: 1K
you capture a candid photo of your boyfriend sleeping. little do you know, this innocent act sparks some ideas in his mind.
(i needed to do something after i saw him in boyfriend mode taking photos of his girl. hope this is a good way to make my comeback. soon i'll post about the little break I took. love you all. hope you enjoy) 🫶🏼
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The morning sun pours its golden rays through the curtains. You wake up with its gentle kiss. The warm glow envelops you, seeming to prickling your naked skin. You find yourself nestled in its embrace, entangled in a sleepy haze, locked in the limbo between dreams and wakefulness.
You sigh as you open your eyes.
The gentle glow of the light dances around you, creating a peaceful ambiance that centers on the man lying next to you. Carlos. His head rests on the pillow; hair falling in disarray over his forehead.
Owning the image before you, your eyes don’t shy away from taking in the whole scene—the slightly parted lips, the shadow of his long eyebrows, the naked chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slow breaths. There’s a serene vulnerability about him in that morning light, a beauty that begs to be immortalized.
And you know you can’t trust your mind for that. You can’t afford to have time tarnish it.
So you shift in bed and reach for the nightstand where your phone rests, and you aim the camera at Carlos. For a second, it seems a crime to so casually steal that image of beauty and serenity with something as mundane as a touch on a screen. Beauty like that deserves more effort.
Carlos stirs slightly, a fragment of a smile playing on his lips as he mumbles, with his eyes still closed,
“What are you doing?” There’s drowsiness in his voice, laced with a hint of amusement.
“Nothing,” you whisper softly. “You just looked so pretty.”
He smirks and runs his hands over his face. “I should feel violated,” he teases, extending his hands towards you, “My turn, now.”
Handing him the phone, you watch him. His gaze shifts to you with a different glint. You’re sitting on your knees in bed, the sheets around your legs, and nothing but your hair covering your chest. Reclining in bed, he points the camera at you. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your hands, the modesty you still hold translated into something similar to a pose.
Carlos lets out a soft groan. “No, no,” he protests, “you can’t hide those from me.”
“You want a photo of my boobs?”
“Sí, to have it as a keepsake in my wallet.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle at the sight of him. The sleepy eyes. The messy hair. The ridiculously overly feminine case on your iPhone that looks absurdly small in his big hairy hands. And all of this bathed in the soft glow of morning light and the memories of last night when you loved each other to sleep... God, you feel so lucky to have found this man.
Tilting your head to the photo, a faint smile grazes your lips as your gaze lingers on him, disregarding the phone pointing at you.
“The hair,” he directs.
This time, without even noticing, you were already obeying. You sweep your hair back, leaving the strands to cascade down your back. The soft sound of the clicks locks this moment into eternity. Looking down, you see the streaks of light cutting through your chest, drawing parallel lines over your naked bosom. You pass your fingers over it. Click. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the light. Click. Your arms stretch over your head, in a casual stretch like you've done any morning, without a camera aiming at you. Click.
When you look back at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.
A mischievous twinkle awakens in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. Probably way more than you.
You let your fingers rest over your lips. Click. And then they hover over your jawline and your neck, which is still sore and probably painted with small hickeys. Click. Patiently, they glide over the curves of your chest with a fatherly touch, a tease enough to make your skin erupt into goosebumps. Before you dare to touch yourself, you look up.
“Do you like this?” His voice cuts the silence. And God, it’s so much deeper than before. “Tell me, love. Do you like having me here… watching you?” You nod. “Go ahead then. Play with them.”
You obey his command, gently pressing your fingertips against the buds on your chest and grazing over your nipples. Without realizing it, you squeeze your legs together. Carlos probably notices it because he moves in his place. When you look up, his hand is cradling his cock over the blanket. The power of his words and the sight of his hand on his cock are enough to make your breath hitch. You intensify your touch, tracing circles around your nipples, feeling them harden under your touch. Click. Your eyes never leave him as you continue to play with yourself, knowing you're putting on a show for him. The thought sends shivers down your spine and makes you wetter than before.
His hand doesn’t move too much, almost like he’s saving himself for you. You can see the tension building in him, the way his muscles are tense and his jaw clenched. It's a game of self-control, and you both know it.
"Spread your legs," he commands in a low voice. You obey without hesitation, spreading your legs wider and giving him a full view of your body. Click. "Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I want to be inside you."
The mattress shifts, and as you look in his direction, you can see him crawl towards you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your heart race. Reaching for your chest, he kisses the spot your fingers are still pinching. He circles his tongue around your hard nipple, making you shiver, as if an electric current is flowing between the both of you. You arch into his touch, wanting more.
And then his teeth graze over your chest, ever so slightly, before he bites into it, making you gasp and whimper. The combination of pleasure and pain has you gripping the sheets tightly as he continues to tease and torment your sensitive nipples.
His hot breath is fanning over your face as he looks down at you, panting and begging for more. A smirk plays on his lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Such a good girl,” he praises, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his tongue is demanding and forceful, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you desperately try to deepen the connection.
His fingers trail down from your chest to your stomach and then lower, slipping between your legs. The other hand keeps holding the phone, registering it. You take a couple of seconds to notice it, but you’re shaking. Burning.
“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he growls, before abruptly pulling away from you and returning to his seat. Arousal is dripping down your thighs as you watch him recline against the headboard. “Go ahead. Touch yourself.”
The memory of his lips and teeth seem to feed your body and arousal. You’re burning. The feeling of the sun on your skin only feeds that feeling. A warm tingling spreads through your chest and down to your core. You slide your fingers down. And God, you’re truly wet. You didn’t realize how hot this little game had turned you. You push your knees further apart, which earns a satisfied groan from your boyfriend.
"Do you want a photo of that too?" he asks.
You nod eagerly, feeling the heat radiating off your body. Without losing eye contact with him, you slide your fingers down to your throbbing center, spreading your folds and teasing yourself with light touches. His eyes are dark and intense as he watches you pleasure yourself under his gaze.
"Fuck," he groans, snapping another photo of your hand between your legs. You moan at the sound of his voice. "I love watching you, baby. You look so pretty."
Carlos repositions the phone to make you be right at the center. It’s a masterpiece. Your body fits perfectly within the frame of the phone. Your skin taken by the streaks of light, golden sunshine gilding your naked body almost like blessing the pleasure you're implying on yourself. You’d later learn that you looked unreal in those photos—something pulled out of a painting, shadows and light in perfect harmony. But in that moment, you just felt needy and desperate.
"Can I move?" You ask, your voice shaking with need.
"You can do what the fuck you want, baby," Carlos replies, his eyes never leaving you as he slides out of bed. You feel a surge of confidence and power as you take his spot, spreading your legs wide.
Your fingers slide over your wet lips, teasing yourself with light touches. Carlos sits at the end of the bed, watching intently. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on your juices and they sparkle in the light.
Your eyes meet his, and he nods encouragingly. You let out a breathy moan as you start to move your fingers in circles over your clit. The pleasure builds quickly within you, and you hear Carlos let out a low growl.
You slide two fingers inside of yourself, the wetness making it easy for them to slip in. You let out a loud moan around your fingers, imagining they're Carlos' instead. The thought of him filling you up makes your walls clench around your fingers.
You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you want Carlos with you. "Carlos," you cry out his name, hoping he'll join in and take over where your fingers are currently working.
But he doesn't move from his spot at the end of the bed. He continues to watch you with dark eyes, his hand still hovering over his erection but not touching it.
You can see the longing in his gaze and it only fuels your desire further. You want him desperately, to be taken by him until all sense is lost.
You call out to him again, pleading for his presence and touch. You long for him. His hand tightens around his erection as he struggles to hold onto control. Your eyes lock with his, and he lets out a small laugh of helplessness.
"Use your words, baby," he grunts. "Tell me what you want."
"Please, come here."
"Not yet."
"Can I?... Please? Can I cum?"
"Yes. Go ahead. Give in for me."
You comply, arching your back and pushing your hips forward. Your fingers glide in and out of your body at a rapid pace, your breaths becoming shallow and erratic. Carlos' gaze never wavers from you, and the sound of his gentle moans fills the room.
Climax is imminent.
You can feel it building, a searing warmth spreading through your veins, threatening to consume you completely. You know you're on the edge, but you want to prolong this moment, revel in the pleasure of it all.
When you open your eyes, he's standing by your side. The camera is focused on your face, but his eyes? His eyes are fixed on yours. All his attention is on you.
"I'm—," you gasp, meeting his gaze, your voice barely audible. “I'm so close.”
“I know, my love,” he whispers. Click. “Let yourself go for me.”
As the words leave his lips, you feel yourself start to unravel. Your body trembles with ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You let out a guttural moan, your fingers still working their magic on your slick folds. It hits you like a wave, stealing your breath and lifting you higher, as you cry out his name and arch your back, almost like being pulled towards him by an invisible force. The camera continues to click as your body convulses, capturing every bit of your ecstasy, your face twisting into a mix of pain and pleasure.
As you come down from your high, you're aware of Carlos moving around the room. The bed dips slightly, and then he's beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your sweat-damp skin.
“Can you take me now?,” your voice low. “Please?”
Had this one in my mind all day so I just needed to sit down and write it down before it would vanish. I know I've been MIA, but I see all the support you keep giving me. You're all incredible. Hope you enjoyed this one silly thing. As always, all feedback is appreciated. 🫶
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erikawrites13 · 2 days ago
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“Racing Secrets”
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Max Verstappen x Elizabeth Piastri
The paddock was buzzing with anticipation ahead of the Monaco Grand Prix. Cameras flashed, teams prepared, and fans screamed for their favorite drivers. But amid the chaos, there was one secret kept tighter than any strategy—Max Verstappen and Elizabeth Piastri’s hidden relationship.
Elizabeth, known mostly as Oscar Piastri’s sister, had always stayed out of the spotlight. She wasn’t interested in the media frenzy, nor did she crave the fame her brother’s F1 career brought. But that didn’t stop her from stealing moments away with Max, away from prying eyes.
They met in the quiet corners of the circuit—empty hospitality suites, dimly lit garages, and the occasional secluded garden behind the paddock. Elizabeth’s quick wit and quiet strength fascinated Max, and she found his fiery passion both on and off the track impossible to resist.
Today was no different. As Max walked past the buzzing crowd, his gaze met Elizabeth’s near the edge of the pit lane. Their fingers brushed for a fleeting second, a silent confirmation that, no matter how public their worlds were, their connection was their own.
“Be careful out there,” she whispered, voice barely above the roar of the engines.
Max smiled, his confidence bolstered not just by his team but by the secret love that gave him strength.
“I always am, as long as I know you’re waiting,” he replied, before disappearing into the frenzy, the roar of the race and the beat of his heart entwined.
But just then, footsteps approached fast behind them. Max’s fingers pulled away quickly as Oscar appeared, eyes sharp and unreadable.
“Elizabeth,” Oscar said quietly, but there was something different in his tone—less anger, more curiosity. “Can we talk?”
Caught off guard, she nodded, and Max hesitated before stepping back, letting the siblings talk alone.
Oscar’s gaze flicked between Elizabeth and the space Max had just vacated. “So��� it’s true.”
Elizabeth’s throat tightened. “Yes. But we’ve been careful. I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
Oscar let out a low chuckle, surprising her. “Honestly? I’m kind of glad.”
Elizabeth blinked. “Glad?”
He nodded. “I was worried. Worried you’d get involved with someone who’d just complicate things, or worse—someone who wouldn’t care about you. Max... he’s different. And if anyone can handle the madness, it’s him.”
Elizabeth’s surprise softened into something like hope.
“But,” Oscar added, lowering his voice, “you both need to be smarter. People around here smell secrets like blood. One wrong move, and it all blows up. I don’t want to be the one who has to clean up the mess.”
Elizabeth smiled, a little breathless. “I promise.”
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sterredem · 1 year ago
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GIRLFRIEND?!
Olivia Rodrigo x Fem!Ferrari!Driver!Reader
Face claim Pinterest girls
Warning not proofread, spelling mistakes
Summary When you try to hard launch your relationship it seems to be that no one believes you.
Part 2
A/N I like this a lot. It is a bit lengthy but I love it. Also I removed Carlos Sainz because I needed a place and Ferrari was the best with the options. So the reader will replace him.
Also I tried something new with writing for a girl so lmk know if you want more fem!driver x famous girl fics!
I hope y’all like it!
Don’t forget to Repost, comment and give Feadback! It helps a lot!
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Instagram
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Liked by Yourusername and 6.835.836 others
OliviaRodrigo Thank you so much Antwerp you were a dream! Amsterdam here we come!
View all 10.836 comments
Conangray She’s on the moon!
OliviaRodrigo 🌕🌙
SabrinaCarpenter Pop princess
OliviaRodrigo Says you
Yourusername Wow what a beauty
Yourusername Loved seeing you! Liked by author
User1 I GOT TO SEE YOU!
User2 Anyone saw Y/n’s deleted comments?!
User3 OMG YES! I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST ME!
User4 god, she’s hot
User5 Wait Y/n went? How she has a race tomorrow?!
User6 multitasking queen
User7 I love you💜
User8 I love her friendship with other singers💕
User9 How does she know Y/n? I am genuinely curious because I love them both.
User10 They met through Gracie because Gracie and Y/n went to the same school and then Gracie introduced them. Now they are really good friends
User12 I LOVED THE SHOW!
User13 you killed it!
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Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 2.736.936 others
Yourusername Had a great time at the GUTS Tour! Thank you so much for the invite liv!Also some pictures with Ferrari stud bc I drive cars or something…
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OliviaRodrigo I’m glad you enjoyed it! Liked by author
OliviaRodrigo You are so hot
Charles_Leclerc …Driving cars or something????
Charles_Leclerc also don’t we have a race tomorrow?
Yourusername Yes! But I can multitask!
Scuderia_Ferrari … were glad you enjoyed your time…? And good that you wore the jacket and posted your car…?
Yourusername Exactly!
User1 OMG YOU ARE A LIVIE?!
Yourusername YES! Always and forever!
User2 LIV?!?! WHAT IS THIS?!
User3 OMG I STOOD NEXT TO YOU!!
User4 Love the outfit!
User5 anyone see Olivia’s deleted comments liked by 1.837 others
User6 Not the thing about the cars😂 so unserious🤣
User7 I love you!
User8 Aren’t you tired? You have media day tomorrow and the day after FP1 and FP2
Yourusername As I said ✨multisasking✨
User9 I love her friendship with Olivia!
User10 SHE WENT TO THE TOUR?!
User11 she really is a girls girl
User12 not the work with fun😂
User13 IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!
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Instagram
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Liked by OliviaRodrig and 1.173.736 others
Yourusername Forza Ferrari! A little photo dump of Imola before Monaco. Saw a lot of red, but it suits me so that’s a plus.
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Scuderia_Ferrari Forza Ferrari!
Charles_Leclerc Red!
User1 gorgeous
User2 Why is Olivia liking a post that has nothing to do with her?!
User3 prolly because they are friends
User4 Good luck in Monaco!
User5 ❤️
User6 P5! In the points!
User7 So happy to see more women in motorsports!
User8 What do you think about Charles adopting Oscar?
User9 You’re so pretty!
User10 Red does really looks good on you!
User11 good luck this weekend!
User12 I love the GenZ energy
User13 Favourite driver ever
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Instagram
Yourusername posted a story
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Twitter
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Instagram
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Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 2.836.837 others
Yourusername P3🏆 happy with the results and very happy for Charles and the team! Congratulations!
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Charles_Leclerc couldn’t have done it without you!
Scuderia_Ferrari A grat race again Y/n!
OliviaRodrigo Great job! Liked by author
User1 P3!
User2 Great job! Ready for the next posium!
User3 Olivia is earlier than me and I have notifications on?!
User4 so true! I love their friendship!
User5 Our racing queen!
User6 💜💕❤️
User7 not her petting a picture of her and Olivia in her racing post😂
User8 she’s so pretty!
User9 She looked so happy!
User10 Anyone know why she was giggling on her phone so much?!
User11 maybe she has a boyfriend?!
User12 OMG THAT WOULD BE SO AMAZING!!
User13 Were up for a great season!
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Instagram
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Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 4.736.836 others
Yourusername Had a fun time. Met this girl, she kept following me around, her name is Olivia or something… she is cool I guess. Did some cool things, visited some cool places. Being aesthetic and all…
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OliviaRodrigo Mean?!
Yourusername Who are you again?
User1 I love their friendship your honour
Charles_Leclerc I am just going to be silent and not ask what is happening in those pictures
Yourusername That’s great
User2 the caption😂
User3 Very aesthetic indeed👍
User4 I love them😍
User6 Hotttttt
User7 Paris and Ferrari, the best combination!
User8 museum twice, painting picnic AND Paris?! What is going on?!
User9 is it just me or does this look like a date…?
User10 OMG YOURE RIGHT! AND ALSO THE INSTA STORY!
User11 Seriously? They’re just friends and they both don’t like girls
User12 they’re so pretyyyyyyyy
User13 💕💜❤️😍
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Twitter
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Instagram
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Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 4.936.836 others
Yourusername I alsways love hanging out with the best people in my life. And this is an other instance of that. I loved hanging out with you @OliviaRodrigo. Thank you for being there for me💕
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OliviaRodrigo I love hanging out with you too💕 I will always be there for you💜❤️
Yourusername 💕💜❤️
User1 Them using each other’s colours😭😭
User2 I love their friendship!
User3 awwwww
User4 they are friendship goals
User5 so pretty
User6 friendship dates are the best!
User7 so cute
User8 why does this kind of look like a soft/hard launch?!?!
User9 It really doesn’t. They are just posting about their friendship, she even said it in the caption!
Charles_Leclerc 🤦‍♂️
Yourusername shut up
User10 wait what happened?!
User11 why does this kind of look like a couple??
User12 gorgeous women liked by author and OliviaRodrigo
User13 In love with both
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Twitter
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Instagram
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Liked by Yourusername and 5.735.836 others
OliviaRodrigo A little break between shows and city’s 💜💕❤️ happy to be home
View all 18.735 comments
Yourusername 💜💕❤️ liked by author
Yourusername You’re so hot🥵
SabrinaCarpenter Hope you enjoy your brake! Liked by author
User1 Friendship goals!!
User2 They are the cutest friends ever!
User3 Her wearing red is so cute! Girls supporting girls!
User4 I love them!
User5 the 5th picture🥵
User6 anyone saw Y/n’s deleted comment???
User7 I thought it was just me’
User8 Again this really looks like a hard/soft launch!!
User9It doesn’t!!!
User10 I hope you enjoy your brake! You deserve it!
User11 not her calling Y/n her home 🥲
User12 the 4th pic is so cute!!
Yourusername 🤦‍♀️ liked by author
User13 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!
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Instagram
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Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 8.986.836 others
Yourusername I had an amazing time with MY GIRLFRIEND and I really enjoys the break. You are my person, my others half. Even if the entire word things we are just best friends EVEN WHEN WE SOFT LAUNCH AND HARD LAUNCH. I love you very much and I am very happy to have you in my life. 💜💕❤️
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OliviaRodrigo Gorgeous girl, my girl, MY GIRLFRIEND
Yourusername always and forever
Charles_Leclerc Finally!! It took long enough!
Yourusername so true!
SabrinaCarpenter So happy for you two!
Yourusername Thank you Sab - me and liv
GracieAbrams Don’t forget you met through me!
Yourusername We could never
OliviaRodrigo Yeah cause Gracie keeps telling us
User1 I love them already
ConanGray Now I can finally post all the photos of you two!
OliviaRodrigo Please do!
Scuderia_Ferrari so happy for you two!
Landonorris does this mean I can get tickets??
Yourusername no
Lilymhe Why wasn’t I informed about this? I thought we were friends!
Yourusername we are! I’m sorry but almost no one on the grid knows! Can I make it better with GUTS tickets…?
Lilymhe …yes. You are forgiven after I have gone to the concert
OliviaRodrigo and where is my opinion in this?
Yourusername with mine
OliviaRodrigo Of course my love
Lilymhe I love y’all already
User2 ONG WHAT?!?!
User3 So they were trying to tell us this whole time???…
Yourusername yes
OliviaRodrigo yes
Charles_Leclerc yes
SabrinaCarpenter yes
ConanGray yes
GracieAbrams yes
User3 OMG HI!
User4 SO CUTE!
User5 Hottest couple for real
User6 wait so how long were you two together??
Yourusername Around 1 year. Our anniversary was on the 3 year anniversary of SOUT
User7 WAIT. so you got together on 2 years SOUR?! Cute!
OliviaRodrigo Yes!
User8 I was right!!!!!!
Yourusername and the only one at that
User9 I’m so sorry!
User10 your girlfriends hot
User11 cutest couple ever
User12 I DID NOT expect this
User13 THIS IS WHY THEY USE THE EMOJIS! Red is for Y/n purple is for Olivia and the pink hards of two is for them together! Liked by author
User13 SHE LIKED
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713 notes · View notes
inkandapex · 3 months ago
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stream madness pt. 2
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Lando Norris embraced his now-public relationship as a chance to openly and unapologetically adore his girlfriend. Fans saw it as a win—though it came at the cost of Max F constantly getting roped into their antics.
Words: 4.8k
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, suggestive dialogue
part 1 | part 3 | part 4
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Protect Max
Fans were absolutely loving how Y/N had become a bigger part of Max’s streams. They got to see a side of her they’d never caught on social media and beyond the glimpses from the paddock with Lando.
It was just another day of chatting and gaming for the two during a break between races, the pair sat in an ever familiar room in Lando's place in Monaco, but with him absent as Max had mentioned he went out for training.
"We just agreed on not using grenades you cheat! Lando's rubbing off on you way too much. I don't like it" Max exclaims as his character on Counterstrike once again, gets killed by Y/N less than a minute into the round.
"Oh go cry about it Max, just admit I'm better than you" Y/N smirks as she grabs her water bottle to take a sip
"You cheated! I got absolutely knocked by that"
"Fine! You big baby, no grenades this time, promise" Y/N groans as they start another round
"they're so sibling coded" "not bob getting dethroned from being Max's gaming partner" "she's so gonna beat Max again this round"
“Okay, chat, no need to rub salt in the wound—by the way, I was the one who taught you how to play, you should be grateful—shit!”
Max was mid-sentence when Y/N sniped him, knocking him out of the game and securing yet another win—this time, fair and square.
“The student becomes the master,” she smirked, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment.
"What's going on here?" the mic picks up Lando's voice before he even enters the frame.
"I'm absolutely dominating on counterstrike—did you just get back?" A playful smile spreads across Y/N's face as Lando walks into the room, standing behind her chair and gently massaging her shoulders.
"I've already showered and everything. Been here the past 30 minutes, you two were too busy bickering—I could hear you all the way down the hall," Lando chuckles, looking down at her with a cheeky grin.
He leans in, but Y/N quickly shifts away, avoiding the kiss.
"You're avoiding my kisses now?" Lando teases, his mouth hanging open in mock surprise.
"The stream, Lan..." Y/N mutters, a little pout on her lips, making Lando laugh softly.
"Alright baby, for our eyes only, yeah?" Lando smirks, leaning back down while reaching for the camera, his hand covering it just in time to hide their kiss.
"Hello?! My eyes! My eyes! What about Max’s eyes?!" Max's shout makes the two burst into laughter as Lando pulls his hand away, revealing Max’s face, twisted in utter disgust.
"lol poor max" "bet he misses P a lil extra today" "i think im going to cardiac arrest they're so cute"
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Snitches get stiches
The night before testing in Bahrain, Lando hopped onto Max’s stream for a few rounds, confident as ever. After absolutely schooling Max, he decided it was time to call it a night, shutting down his setup and stepping away.
What he didn’t step away from, however, was the chat.
Curled up in bed, phone in hand, Lando lurked—dropping smug messages every few minutes. No matter how much Max tried to ignore him, chat was loving it, egging Lando on as he tormented his friend from the shadows.
" 'Just take the L—' Mate, I did take the L. You’re the one still lurking in chat," Max laughed, shaking his head as yet another message from Lando popped up. "You have testing tomorrow, by the way."
Then, a new message appeared.
"Ed said he let you win this morning."
Max smirked, grabbing his phone. Without a word, he held up a finger to the camera and pressed dial. The stream went quiet as he waited. After a few rings, a familiar voice came through the speaker.
"Hey, Y/N, you alright? Sorry if I woke you. You’re in Bahrain with Lando, yeah?" Max finally said, his grin growing wider at the thought of absolutely snitching on his best friend.
"Hey, Maxie. No you're good, just in the other room catching up on work. Lando went to bed about an hour ago. Everything okay? Do I need to wake him up?" Y/N sounded concerned.
"Yeah, 'bout that... he’s wide awake, actually—just finished streaming golf with me. Wouldn’t leave my chat."
The pause on the other end was almost too satisfying. Max leaned back, waiting patiently, his smirk never fading. The sound of rustling and soft footsteps had him turning up the volume, bringing his phone closer to the mic. He even covered his mouth, stifling his laughter, determined to catch this golden moment in all its glory.
"bro is cooked" "oh no she's mad" "not max snitching on lando AGAIN"
"You’ve got testing tomorrow, Lan." "Fucking snitch, Max! Grow up!" Lando’s voice barely made it through, muffled. "You said you were going to bed an hour ago," Y/N said, clearly not amused. "Baby, I am in bed," Lando mumbled, his tone defensive. "You were just playing with Max—" "—For one round, my love. I’m in bed now, aren’t I?" "Don’t play me, Norris. Go to sleep, or I’m taking your phone away." “How am I supposed to sleep without you next to me, huh?” Lando’s voice was full of fake desperation, stretching the words out like he was pleading for a lifeline.
“Right, well, now I’m about to throw up,” Max interrupted, cutting through the conversation with his dry humour.
"Fewtrell, you knew better. shouldn't have entertained him when he asked you to play." "yeah that's right! you get him baby" "Didn't I say go to sleep? I'm telling Jon about this tomorrow" "This isn't over Max!" Lando manages to shout before the line cuts.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Taking her back
Lando, Max, and Y/N had been best friends long before Lando and Y/N started dating, and though Lando loved how well his girlfriend and best mate got along, there were times when his jealousy got the best of him.
"Baby, come on. You've been playing with Max forever!" Lando whined, his voice dripping with playful frustration. Both Y/N and Max paused their game, turning to see Lando dramatically sprawled out in the chair behind them, looking all sorts of pouty.
"Lan, you’ve been glued to your phone for the past two hours," Y/N teased with a laugh. "We’ve asked you to join us, like, a million times"
"That’s different!" Lando huffed. "I need you. Did you not miss me? It’s the first time we’ve seen each other in a week!" He gave them a puppy-dog look, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his adorable pout.
"A week’s not that long, mate," Max teased, unable to resist poking fun.
"Shut up, you dickhead. I wasn’t talking to you," Lando snapped back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "You're only saying that because P’s been with you the whole time."
"Y/N is literally 6 feet away from you—" Max shot back, raising an eyebrow.
"—Yeah? And you’re about 6 feet away from getting punched," Lando retorted, his playful threat making everyone laugh.
"You’re so easy to wind up," Max said, shaking his head in amusement, clearly enjoying Lando's reaction.
"Very mature, you two," Y/N spoke up, watching the back-and-forth between Lando and Max with an amused smile.
"Baby, please, can we kick Max out? I need some me and you time," Lando groaned, rolling his chair closer to Y/N, his eyes full of exaggerated desperation.
"Lando, chat asked her to join my stream today," Max protested, raising an eyebrow. "You’re really gonna steal her away from them?"
"They’re stealing her away from me right now," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes playfully at the camera.
"Alright, you big baby, one more round, then we'll leave Max alone," Y/N chuckled, turning to face Lando and gently running her hand through his hair.
"No. Now," Lando pouted, shamelessly showing just how needy he was, making Y/N laugh as she gave him a soft, teasing look.
"I'm about this close to bleaching my eyes and ears, mate," Max teased, smirking at the chaos unfolding.
"I'm about this close to kicking you out of my flat—" Lando leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Max.
"—OKAY. Chat, my kids are throwing tantrums now, I think it’s time for me to go," Y/N sighed in defeat, sitting up straight with a playful roll of her eyes. "You two are impossible." She gave both of them an exasperated but affectionate look, knowing she’d have to be the voice of reason.
"boooo! not bob stealing y/n from us" "NOOO don't leave Y/N" "LN being selfish lol" "hes neeeedy"
Max let out a laugh as he read through the chat, clearly enjoying the chaos. "They're booing you, mate—yeah, chat! That's right! He’s stealing Y/N from us!" Max egged them on, his voice full of mischief.
Just as Y/N stood up from her seat, ready to leave, Lando grabbed her arm, pulling her back down onto his lap. He held her firmly by the waist, giving her a quick kiss.
Y/N gently shoved him, standing up again with a soft laugh, trying to hide the flustered look that had crept onto her face from his sudden move. Lando, now sporting a proud smirk, looked straight at the camera. "Gotta take my girl back now, chat," he said with a playful wink. "We’ll see you guys next time."
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Look at my girl
"Did you get the code? I sent it to you on WhatsApp," Lando said, setting his phone down and turning his attention back to his screen as he finished setting up the game.
"Yep, got it. We're using in-game mics, yeah?" Max replied, joining the lobby.
Before Lando could answer, a soft knock echoed through the room. He instinctively pulled off one side of his headphones, swiveling his chair to find Y/N standing by the door.
"I'm heading out now, bub" her voice carried through the mic, chat flooded with messages about how soft Lando’s gaze had just turned.
"Look at you all dressed up—where are you headed, my pretty girl?" Lando smirked, leaning back in his chair, eyes shamelessly trailing over his girlfriend.
A blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks as she shifted on her feet, slightly embarrassed by her boyfriend’s proud declaration. "I’m having lunch with Alex today, remember?"
"You look beautiful, my love," Lando murmured, his grin widening before turning back to his stream. "Chat, doesn’t Y/N look absolutely stunning?"
"Maate, start the bloody game!" Max groaned, dragging out the words in frustration.
Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Alright, Lan, I gotta go—they're arriving soon."
"Alex is picking you up?" Lando asked, tilting his head as he kept his eyes on her.
Y/N nodded. "Charles offered to drop us off at the restaurant. I'll bring you home food, and I’ll send you the menu when I get there."
Lando’s expression softened. "Have fun, my love. Text me if you need anything."
"Got it. Bye, chat—" Y/N smiled, giving a small wave as she stepped out the door.
"—What?! Hey, hey, no! Come back—baby, my kiss!" Lando whined, nearly pushing himself out of his seat, watching her leave with a dramatic pout.
She let out a playful groan but stepped back into the room, making her way toward Lando.
"Look at her, everyone—stunning," Lando grinned, taking her hand in his. "Alright, bye, gorgeous. Have a great time."
Y/N smirked, holding her hand up to the camera—mimicking the way Lando had covered it on a previous stream—before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.
"Thanks for that, Y/N, really appreciate the modesty," Max's voice rang through Lando's headphones, dripping with sarcasm. "Hope you do that to my eyes next time, yeah?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Don't look at my girl
Lando had been on Twitch for a good hour now, casually playing UNO with Max and a few other friends on who were on Discord. It was all easygoing banter, a way to kill time before diving into a more intense Tarkov session.
Y/N walked in not too long after, carefully balancing plates of food in her hands. Without looking up from his screen, Lando muttered a quick, “Thanks, love,” too focused on his cards to even glance her way.
It wasn’t until the chat suddenly exploded with rapid messages that his attention flickered toward the comments. His brows furrowed, eyes scanning the screen.
"hi Y/N" "okay hot mama!" "Y/N you look stunning babe" "can Lando fight?"
“‘Can Lando fight’—chat, what the fuck?” he scoffed, finally turning his head toward his girlfriend.
And then he saw it.
The slightly cropped, low-necklined tank top hugging her in all the right places, a sight he was very much happy to see, just not so happy to share with the rest of the world.
His reaction was instant. “Baby… where’s the rest of your shirt?” Lando whined, reaching out to tug at the hem of her top as if he could magically make it longer.
Y/N only laughed, swatting his hands away. “It’s literally just a tank top, Lando.”
“Yeah, and apparently, it’s starting fights in my chat.” He shot a glare at the screen before narrowing his eyes at her playfully.
As Y/N stood up, completely unaware of the way the camera was angled, she leaned forward slightly to grab something from behind the monitor.
Lando, ever vigilant with his quick reflexes, moved faster than ever, one hand darting out to cover her chest while the other reached for the mouse, ready to slam the stream off if necessary.
“Woah, woah—baby! Careful, please,” he blurted out, eyes wide as he practically shielded her from the world.
Connor’s laughter echoed through the call. “LN’s about to have a heart attack, mate.”
Y/N, finally realizing what had just happened, let out a soft laugh as she sat back down, napkins now in hand. “I was just grabbing these, bub. Calm down.”
Lando let out a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest like he’d just lived through a near-death experience. “Baby, please, I’m begging—could you put on a hoodie or something?” His voice was almost desperate, eyes flicking between her and the chat that was going absolutely feral.
Y/N raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest. “You’re overreacting.”
“Yeah, well, they’re not getting a free show,” Lando huffed, shooting a glare at the screen before rolling his eyes. With one last grumble, he finally turned his attention back to his game, picking up his fork to dig into dinner—all while side-eyeing the chat every few seconds.
Meanwhile, Max was wheezing through his mic. “I swear you just aged five years.”
Connor chuckled. “Bro’s fighting battles no one else can see.”
"still cant believe he was able to pull her" "Y/N leave him be with me" "she looks unreal" "lando better know how to fight"
Lando didn’t say a word, just stood up abruptly and rushed out of the room, leaving his friends confused as his turn in UNO was about to run out.
“Where’s he gone now?” Max muttered, clicking onto Lando’s stream, only to see Y/N sitting there, casually eating and playing in his place.
She simply shrugged, unfazed, taking Lando’s turn for him as she popped another bite of food into her mouth. A few seconds later, Lando reappeared, arms full, determination set on his face.
“Pick.”
“Huh?” Y/N blinked up at him, mid-chew.
“Pick one. Shirt, hoodie, or blanket?” He stood in front of her, dead serious, holding up the options like this was a life-or-death decision.
Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Baby, pick.” Lando repeated, unwavering.
“Lan, it’s really not that—”
Before she could even finish, he had already tossed the clothes onto the floor and made the executive decision himself, unfolding the blanket and draping it over her shoulders. “Right, blanket it is.”
Y/N sat there, wrapped up like a burrito, staring at him in amused disbelief.
Max was howling through the mic. “Mate, she’s looks like she's about to go to bed”
Lando glanced over at her, a proud grin spreading across his face as he admired his work. “There. Better,” he said, his tone smug but warm, clearly pleased with himself for making sure she was all cozy and covered up.
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how serious he was about it, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she teased, tugging the blanket a little lower, enough to free her hands.
“I’m just making sure you’re comfy,” he replied, his grin only widening. “Don’t want you catching a chill, do I?”
She shook her head, playfully rolling her eyes, but the smile she gave him was all warmth. “You’re something else, Lan.”
Lando only winked, clearly pleased with his efforts. “I try.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Rumour has it
It had only been a couple of weeks since Lando and Y/N had last been seen together in public, but the internet had exploded. Breakup rumors, theories about a fallout, and even claims of a “divorce era” started circulating among fans. Of course, Lando and Y/N found it all utterly ridiculous. But why not have a bit of fun with it?
Tonight, Max was streaming, and Lando was, as usual, by his side. The chat was absolutely flooded with questions and speculations, with fans wondering where Y/N had gone, why they hadn’t seen them together lately, and if they were still a couple. Usually, they wouldn't entertain it, but Lando couldn’t help but grin at the chaos as Max glanced at him, his face filled with mischief.
“Mate, you’ve been dodging questions for weeks now. People are asking if you and Y/N are okay. What's going on? Is it true? Are you in the ‘divorce era’ now?” Max teased, his voice full of drama.
Lando leaned back in his chair, groaning. “Oh don't even say her name around me. We're happily separated,” he said with exaggerated seriousness. He watched as the chat went wild, fans speculating whether he was joking or not.
"this is NOT funny im fighting for my life over here" "i honestly cant tell if hes serious pls" "stop asking ab their personal lives guys" "theyre clearly fine, look at him" "oh theyre fine lol"
Max laughed, clearly enjoying it. “Heard it here first chat, there you go”
Lando shrugged dramatically. “Sometimes, I still hear her voice"
Before Max could respond, the door behind Lando opened. Y/N walked in casually, wearing one of Lando’s hoodies, hair up in a messy bun. She stopped when she saw the camera, raising an eyebrow at Lando’s ridiculous grin.
“Hey, guys,” she said, giving the camera a casual wave.
"See! it's like she's still here” Lando pretends to wipe a tear
Max burst into laughter, while Y/N, confused as ever, attempts to read the chat. "Why are you guys talking about me like I've died?"
Lando looked at her with all seriousness. “Baby please. We're broken up remember, gosh keep up will 'ya"
Y/N nods, the expression on her face immediately switching from confused to locked in. "Oh— guys, being in this room right now pains me. I can't even look at him"
Max, lounging back in his chair with a smirk, couldn't help but shake his head. "You two were definitely eating up this breakup rumour stuff, huh?"
Lando and Y/N couldn't help but break, letting out small laughs at the comment. “Oh fuck yeah, we’ve been lying in bed, giggling like idiots, reading threads and watching tiktoks about it,” Lando said, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“We purposely stopped liking each other’s posts and hid from the public" Y/N grinned, “And had so much fun doing it,” she added, sticking her tongue out at the camera.
Max threw his hands up. “You lot deserve an Oscar for this shit”
Lando, still grinning, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, mate, you’re telling me— I had Carlos knocking at my hotel room at three in the fucking morning after reading some random breakup article online.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Not so subtle
It was well past 1 AM, but Lando was still wide awake, glued to his Twitch stream, deep into another round of Tarkov with his friends. The chat was slowly saying their goodnights, viewers logging off one by one—but Lando? He and the guys were more awake than ever, already planning a few more rounds like the night had just begun.
Y/N was not one to stop Lando from enjoying his alone time, but it was getting late. She had just finished yet another episode of her go-to comfort show—but sleep still hadn’t come. With a glance at the clock and a sigh, she finally got up, padding toward the other room. Maybe she could convince Lando to get some rest… or at least come fill the cold, empty space beside her.
“Baby… it’s late, come to bed.”
Y/N’s soft voice barely stood a chance against Lando’s, drowned out by his rapid-fire strategy talk and the sharp bursts of gunfire from his game. He didn’t even flinch, too locked in, too focused.
It wasn’t until she stepped closer, bathed in the soft glow of his monitors, that the chat began to stir, messages flooding in at the sight of her. Only then did Lando pull off one side of his headset, glancing up at her with a lazy smile.
“Hi, gorgeous. Thought you were asleep already,” he murmured, seamlessly giving out directions to his teammates in the same breath.
“Couldn’t sleep… You should come to bed now. It’s late.”
“I know, baby. Just give me ten minutes, alright?”
“Bedtime for little Lando?” Connor teased, earning a chuckle from Max and an eye roll from Lando.
“Shut up, Connor."
Instead of leaving, Y/N plopped down in the free chair beside him, mindlessly scrolling through her phone. She barely noticed how time slipped by—until she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed since Lando promised he’d be done.
“Lan, it’s been 15.”
“10 more minutes, baby. Just a little longer,” he mumbled, eyes still glued to the screen.
"he's so stubborn lol" "poor y/n" "listen to ur gf pls lando, im sleepy but i have fomo"
Another 15 minutes passed, and Y/N, now visibly annoyed, let out a sigh. “Lando.” No pet name. Just his name. Max chuckled on the other end.
“Mate, I’d log off now if I were you. Y/N is scary when she’s tired and cranky.”
Lando glanced over, taking in her tired expression. “Baby, go to bed, you look exhausted… I’ll be there soon, okay? C’mere, gimme a kiss.”
Smooth. A clear attempt to buy himself a little more time.
Y/N gave him a blank stare, then simply nodded before standing up. No protest, no further attempts to drag him to bed. Instead, she turned to the stream with a small smile.
“Okay… goodnight, guys. Have fun playing with Lan. Goodnight, baby.”
Lando blinked, a little surprised that his plan actually worked. He grinned up at her, feeling triumphant, until she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips barely brushing his ear as she whispered.
“I was gonna let you have me any way you wanted tonight… your loss.”
His smirk vanished instantly, his head following Y/N's trail, now exiting the room.
"WHAT DID SHE SAY OMG" "look at his face she definitely said something" "bro is cooked lmao" "lando fumbled baaad"
Beyond distracted by what his girlfriend just whispered in his ear, he misses an opponent causing Max to get killed in game earning a battering of complaints
"Gotta log off now guys, goodnight" Lando, without saying a proper goodbye, had managed turn everything off, leaving both the game and his stream in record breaking time.
Max, watching Lando vanish without a word, quickly put the pieces together as the chat exploded with teasing. Realizing he could save his friend from some serious trouble, Max cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone.
“Bet she’s got him in trouble now. He’s probably getting an earful for keeping her waiting.” Max grinned, adding, “Man’s gonna need a serious apology when he gets off. You know how it is—no escaping when she’s upset.”
Even the chat could pick-up how he's working extra hard to save the his best friends from a PR nightmare.
"Max working extra hard tonight" "LN and Y/N got Max sweating bullets lol his face" "Max being the bigger man, respect" "Theyre bout to hear an earful from max too after this"
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Shameless
Chat was going wild. It was a random Friday night, no announcements, yet, somehow, Lando had appeared with his own stream. Even Max, mid-game, was caught off guard when the messages started rolling in, asking him to play with Lando.
Lando, sitting in his chair, still looked like he had just stepped out of the shower, his hair damp, he wore a matching grey sweatsuit and hoodie.
“What’s going on, mate? You’re back early. Thought you two were out for dinner?” Max’s unmistakable voice crackled through the speakers as he joined the group Discord, clearly catching onto the sudden shift in the vibe.
“Aye chat, Max is here! Yeah, mate, we were, but got back home and decided to hop on,” Lando cheered, clearly stoked to hear his friend's voice.
“Loving the enthusiasm, man. You seem happy tonight. You up for some golf?” Max chuckled, amused by the energy radiating off Lando.
“We can play whatever you want, Max. Feeling really lucky tonight,” Lando replied, a grin spreading across his face.
Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with a teasing smirk. “You’re worrying me a bit, mate. You sick or somethin’? Bit too happy for my liking.”
Lando just kept dancing and singing along to his music, looking even more upbeat, and Max couldn't help but laugh. “Alright, what’s going on with you, seriously?”
It was as if the universe had perfectly timed it—Y/N walked into the room, completely unaware that her boyfriend had already started his stream. She was wearing nothing but the white long-sleeved button-up shirt he had worn during their date earlier that night, the one fans had captured in photos. Her hair was slightly messy, giving her a carefree, just-rolled-out-of-bed look as she casually walked in.
"Lan, did you see my cleanser by any chance? It’s not in the bathroom." Y/N stood just by the door, just enough to be in frame of Lando’s camera.
As soon as she appeared, the chat went wild, and Max couldn’t help but laugh, not even attempting to rescue them this time. “Hey Y/N, my chat's saying Lando’s shirt looks better on you than it did on him.”
Y/N froze for a few seconds, her face turning bright red before she quickly dashed out of the room, her voice still audible through the mic as she shouted, “Lando Norris, you little shit!”
Lando, in too good of a mood to keep it together, couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, chat, calm down—we’re all adults here.” He leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face as he wiped away a few tears of laughter.
After a beat, he stood up, still chuckling to himself. “I’ll be back in a minute, guys.”
He left the room, probably heading off to help Y/N find her cleanser, maybe even consoling her after the little reveal. The chat was buzzing with teasing comments, but it was clear Lando wasn’t too worried—he’d be back soon, and the situation was already too funny to be mad about.
"post sex stream is insaaane" "man was glowing, no wonder" "PR team fighting for their life after this" "Landos phone bout to blow up" "meeting being set up as we speak"
Lando returned, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he casually sat back down, as if nothing had happened. “Right, Max, what are we playing tonight?”
Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing his friend with a grin. “Look at him, so smug. Had a great night, didn’t you?”
Lando let out a laugh, shrugging nonchalantly. “Told you, mate, we went and had dinner.” He paused for a second, then winked at the camera, his smirk widening. “Just had to head home early to have some dessert.”
4K notes · View notes
taasgirl · 8 months ago
Text
blame - driver!reader x grid
summary: driver!reader goes to war protecting her teammate and best friend, max verstappen.
a/n: this is NOT a romance smau!!
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liked by user76, user98, and 6, 872, 014 others f1 Following a breach of conditions set by the FIA, Max Verstappen will serve a mandatory community service period.
tagged: maxverstappen1
ynusername just say ya'll can't handle him and move on!!!
user27 be careful y/n, they'll send you too user46 HAHA SHE'S SO REAL
user51 this is so stupid
user90 who decided this???
user75 Okay I understand him getting community service for the Ocon incident, but for swearing?
user21 they're treating max like he's a child
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liked by oscarpiastri, redbullracing, and 2, 379, 918 others ynusername unbothered, moisturised, and definitely plotting to overthrow the fia!
tagged: maxverstappen1
user59 My dreams 5 minutes before my alarm:
user61 y/n and max are never beating the platonic soulmates allegations
user87 Get yourself a teammate that fights the FIA on your behalf @/estebanocon
maxverstappen1 I was going to say something nice then I saw the last photo.
ynusername pls still compliment me x
oscarpiastri I agree with the caption
landonorris ur too ashy to be moisturised
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view ynusername's story...
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caption only the FIA could ruin a beautiful flight @/alex_albon
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liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon, and 1, 256, 280 others ynusername me and bro suiting up to destroy the FIA
tagged: carlossainz55, landonorris
lewishamilton This is why you're my favourite on the grid
ynusername this is why you're the 🐐
oscarpiastri Hey I hope you were joking when you said you'd be turning into a grid terror haha (please be joking)
ynusername don't worry ur safe xx
landonorris WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS Y/N???
landonorris If me and my gang pull up ahh post
ynusername yup you're now my number one target for unironically using 'ahh'
maxverstappen1 I hope I am bro
ynusername there's no one i'd rather serve community service with
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lewishamilton, and 3, 287, 3389 others ynusername don't worry I won't actually replicate crashgate. however, please know that I have free reign over my radio xx
landonorris Thank god u had me scared for a minute
user49 y/n is taking this too far 😭
ynusername oh i can go further if needed
lewishamilton HAHA this is gold y/n
ynusername when I have the praise of sir lewis hamilton then I know that I'm doing something right
user20 OMG Y/N GOING INSANE ON RADIO IS A NEEEED
user91 y/n is the only reason i'm tuning in this weekend
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view ynusername's story...
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caption: I have some business to attend to this sunday afternoon
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liked by user62, user87, and 209, 557 others f1updates Not shy on the radio so far! Y/N on the formation lap, and she'd already quizzing her engineer.
user83 she's so unserious i love her
user90 This is my sign to strictly watch her onboard today
user41 y/n really is going to put on a show huh
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liked by user 34, user75, and 1, 722, 981 others f1updates A few of the unhinged thing's Y/N was saying during today's race. Safe to say that she may be sporting a ban for the next race.
user38 her engineer replying with 'affirm' is so fucking funny to me
user92 And ya'll still wonder why she's my fave driver
user47 THE WAY THIS ISN'T EVEN EVERYTHING SHE SAID
user28 what else did she say??
user47 @/user28 she went on a whole tangent about how stroll is a prick that shouldn't be in f1 😭😭
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liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, and 3, 615, 248 others ynusername FIA knew I'd be too powerful for another race (hey at least bestie doesn't have to do community service).
maxverstappen1 You're insane I love you
ynusername dinner is still on you right?
landonorris NOOOOOO RIP Y/N
ynusername bitch i'm still alive
oscarpiastri Welcome back Kevin Magnussen liked by ynusername
redbullracing She might be crazy, but she's our kind of crazy!
ynusername pls keep me employed ya'll
view landonorris's story...
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caption Yes, she still has the helmet on
view maxverstappen1's story...
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caption Okay time for us to get to work
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eeee i hope you guys liked this, please let me know if you did!
2K notes · View notes
ladymarvel27 · 9 months ago
Text
Fondle ☀️ Carlos Sainz
carlos sainz x reader
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Series Master list
Description: You and him the morning after
Warnings: Mentions of smut, brief smutish (not actual smut though)
f1 masterlist
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You slowly open your eyes, squinting against the harsh sunlight peering from the window. You found yourself caged in Carlos’ arms, your back pressed against his chest. You didn’t want to wake up, not yet. It’s probably 6 am right now. “Carlos?” You called him out with all your strength in your sleepy state, your back hurting from the exhaustion. No reply. “I know you’re awake, go close the curtains!” Still no reply.
You groaned angrily and with all the strength left, you turned to hide your face in his chest, trying to block out the light. But he immediately turned to lay on his back, the same back you scratched the hell out of last night. “Ahh,” he moaned in pain when his back rubbed on the sheets. You chuckled and buried your face into the pillow instead.
“Is it hurting, senor?” You spoke, mocking him. (Sir)
“Si, Senorita,” he moans again, and sat up. (Yes, ma’am)
 “Now go, close the curtains and let me sleep.”
“NO, wake up!”
“I am tired.”
“But it’s morning.”
“NO!”
“Senorita Princesa, amor de su vida, mi reina, wake up!” He loudly sings. (Madam Princess, Love of my life, my queen)
“UHH!” You groaned. “Please Carlos, let me sleep!” You felt two hands on each side of your waist pulling you up, “Carlos! Stop!” He places you on his lap, his arms now caging your body by your waist.
You wrapped your hands around his neck and rest head against his shoulder, falling back asleep, like a toddler. He chuckles.
“Y/n wake up!” He rubs your back and laughs. “C'mon,” he pleads.
“Okay,” you pull away and place your lips on his, sucking in the name of kissing him. His grip on your waist tightens and you grip his shoulders more tightly, deepening the kiss. You two finally pulled away when you were out of breath, his lips a little swollen. You leaned back to gaze at his chest, which was covered with hickeys from last night. You ran a hand to admire your artwork. “I like it when you give them.”
“HUH? I don’t mind giving them.” His eyes glint with desire.
He switched positions to lay you down on the bed and hovered above. He settled between your legs and dived into you.
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The sounds of your and his mixed moans fill the whole room. He laid next to you, catching his breath. You placed your hand on your chest, catching your breath.
“Quite the session, huh,” you gasped.
“Yeah,” he breathed out, his breathing returning to normal.
“I was thinking how about we go date tomorrow? Thursday?” He spoke after few minutes of breathcatching.
“HUH?” You were alert now.
“We will go dress shopping this evening?” He suggested.
“Yeah, that’s a great idea!”
His phone starts ringing. His hands reach for it and he flips to look at the caller ID.
“OMG!” He immediately sits up.
“What happened?” You raised your eyebrows.
“It’s from work,” he replies, picking up the call and placing it on his ear.
You got up to brush your teeth. Few minutes later, you come back to him. He hangs up the call and places it on the table.
He sighs slowly and says, “I have to leave in the afternoon.”
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Seperators credits: @saradika @saradika-graphics
Taglist: @faithshouseofchaos @itsjustvs4
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kimmyvfx · 3 months ago
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Make it easy || FC43
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pairing: franco colapinto x reader (sisters bestfriend)
summary: you're arriving at your best friends house, crying about your break-up. You ring the doorbell, swiping your tears away. After a few seconds the door opens. But to your suprise there's not your bestie. Its her brother Franco who opens the door.
warnings: smut (fsk18) - minors dni, sexual content, masturbation, begging, teasing.
wortcount: 1.6k
note from the underground: this is my first fanfic, please enjoy it and be kind with me. thanks ❤️
"Franco.. where's your sister? I need her." your voice cracks under your tears. He looks at you, confused and raises an eyebrow. "Hi to you too.. She's buying some groceries and should be back soon." He pauses for a moment. "Are you okay? What happen-" "Can I wait here? I won't bother you.." you interrupt him, almost whispering, avoiding his gaze. Franco steps aside quickly "Of course amiga." You enter the house while you're still looking at the ground. Its embarrassing to cry in front of your best friends brother, get your shit together. You walk over into the big living room, sitting down on the edge of the couch. You can hear Francos footsteps and feel his glare while he walks past you. "Are you okay?" he asks from across the room. You nod slowly while you catch up the tears that run down your cheeks incessantly. Awkward silence is filling the high walls of this imposant room. You know this house since you were a child, but you weren't here alone, without your best friend. You can feel his presence but neither him or you dares to say a word. Your muffled sniffs echoes through the room. Franco clears his throat "Do you want to talk..?" his voice soft and calming. "Its just.. Chris and I.. we..we broke up and.." you stutter. Another tear is running down your cheek. "He's not worth it." "Excuse me?" "You heard me." You look up through your wet eyes. He leans on the window, arms crossed in front of his chest. "You don't know anything Franco." I murmur through gritted teeth. He raises a brow again, "Oh no? You think I didn't hear you complain or even cry on Marthas phone, in her room or in our front yard? Common y/n." he mutters. You're staring in his green eyes, unable to say a word. "He was an asshole, even Martha says it." he adds. "Be glad you got rid of him." You look away and shake your head slighlty. He's right. He's absolutley right. That man is a dick and you wasted two years of your precious life for him to get his shit together.
"I wish it would be that easy Franco." you speak after a while, your gaze resting on one of the beautiful flowers on the windowsill. "Make it easy." he suddenly says. You open your mouth to reject his words but Franco is faster. "Y/n, look at me." You freeze for a second at his command, then you look back into his eyes, which are already staring at you. He's studying your face slowly. "I bet he didn't cry one single tear about you. But he should. He lost you." he looks into your eyes again, " You're his loss, y/n ... not the other way round." he speaks with a calm voice, a small smile forms on your lips. "Oh? What was that? Was that a smile?" He grins and walks towards you. You can't help but chuckle. "See, it can be that easy." he says as he reaches out his hand to you. "Thank you Fran." you answer with a smile and take the offer. His warm hand grab yours tightly as he pulls you up. You stumble one or two steps but he keeps you steady.
The both of you stand there, facing each other quietly, staring in eachothers eyes for a few seconds. There's just the two of you, for the first time since you've known each other. He's so close, you can smell his soft perfume, his hand is still holding yours. He's staring back in your eyes, lips parted as if he's about to say something. But instead he strokes a strand of your hair behind your ear. You feel that tingle inside your stomach, but you shake it off in your thoughts."You deserve better." he murmurs softly. You look at the ground, a slight blush crawls up your cheeks. You can feel the tip of his finger brushing your chin as he slowly lifts it up to make you look at him again. Your eyes fall on his plumpy lips for a second, almost accidentally. You try to act normal but he noticed it. Of course he did. A sly smirk plays on his lips. You can feel your heartbeat quickens, its like your whole body is pulsing. "You look cute when you blush.." his voice almost purring. What is happening here? Thoughts running through your brain, your body's heating up. He squeezes your hand. He's still holding it and you didn't pull away.
"I- I should wait upstairs." you stutter, trying shut up these thoughts in your head. The look in his face changes as you speak. Whatever is going on between you right now, it's wrong. You know it. He knows it. "Maybe you should." he says and let go of your hand.
--
After Martha arrived, you spent the rest of the evening talking in her room. Later she invited you to stay over night and of course you took that offer thankfully. It was already late and the imagination of laying alone in your appartment where literally anything would remind you of your ex made you feel sick. Instead you're tossing and turning on the couch in Marthas room, listening to her deep breaths. Atleast you're not alone huh. Your head was spinning. And as if that whole story with Chris wasn't already enough, the little pictures of your interactions with Franco earlier today popped up in your mind. How he looked at you, his hand holding yours.. his lips.. oh yeah, these damn lips and that fucking smirk..
"Fuck" you murmur frustrated as you sit up, burrying your face into your hands. A quick look on your phone tells you, its 2.18 in the morning. You get up, close the door quietly and sneak downstairs in the kitchen to get some water. You lean against the counter, the cold water is running down your throat. Refreshing.. Suddenly you hear a familar voice.
"Can't sleep eh?" Francos outlines appear in the dim light. "Mhm.." you murmur, sipping from your glass and watching him from the corner of your eyes. He stands there, in his short pj, casually.. but he already made your body tense. "Did you tell Martha..?" he looks over at you, searching for your gaze - which you're avoiding. "No." you answer quickly. He nods. He knew it. "She doesn't need to know." you add, still avoiding to meet his eyes. "It would make things weird." you take another sip from your glass, before you put it in the sink.
"So it's our little secret then?" he asks, while you can hear him walking towards you. You swallow while your body freezes as you feel him close behind you. "If you wanna say so.." you murmur, try to play things cool. But he looks through you so easily as he steps right behind you "How many more secrets can you keep?" He whispers into you ear, a trail of chills crawling from your neck over your whole body. His hands taking place on your hips, squeezing them slightly.
You're standing there, just like that. You should complain, you should put his hands away. But you aren't able to move. He places a soft kiss on your shoulder. Finally you've got your voice back. "That's not.. Franco.. I- .. we" whatever you were trying to say - the words faded away as his hands move from your hips over the seam of your shirt, slowly tracing cycles on the skin of your stomach. A gasp escapes your mouth as he continues to explore your body. "You're so responsive, babygirl.." he purrs into your ear, leaving a trail of kisses over your neck. You can't help but lean into him, as his fingertips reach out for the waistband of your pants. "You can still say no.. one little word.." He leans his head over your shoulder to get a better look at your body. And you should stop it. You really should. But instead you turn your head, looking straight into his eyes. "Look at me, just like that.." one of his hands slides down in your pants, his fingertips rest right above your core. Another little gasp escapes your mouth while you look at him with desperate eyes. His lips forming a successful grin. It's torture. And he loves it. "Say it.." he commands. "Franco please.." you whisper, your voice shaking with arousal. "Please what..?" he asks. "Please touch me.." and you saw somethings snapped into his brain. His eyes darkened immediately with desire. He finally moves his hand further down, his fingers slide through your wet folds. A mix of tension and relief washes over your body as you finally feel his fingers stroking you softly. A moan escapes your mouth, but he quickly covers your mouth with his hand "Sssh, you have to be quiet babygirl.. Can you be quiet for me?" You nod. Your legs starts to shake as he digs two fingers into your hole, while his thumb is massaging your clit. His fingers pumping into you, slowly at first but already hitting the right spot. You wrap your arm around his neck. "Need you.." you gasp into his ear. "I know baby.." he answers.
You lean into him once more as you feel your orgasmn build. He reliefs your mouth and wraps his arm around your waist. "Let go.. I've got you.." he whispers in your ear, his hand is moving faster as your walls clench around his fingers. You bite your lip to avoid a moan as you ride out your high against his hand.
You lean against the counter, still trying to catch your breath. He turns around at you, grinning from ear to ear. He knows he won. Its bittersweet.
"I told you to make it easy." He whispers as he starts walking and leaves the kitchen.
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lvis44 · 6 months ago
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Talk To Me // LH44
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Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Angst, Mostly unestablished relationship, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Not edited
Word Count: 9.6k+
Summary: It's hard to know what someone else is thinking when you don't let them into your own thoughts, but Lewis will certainly show you exactly what's on his mind If you let him.
Notes: Lmao so my poll was pointless, here's all of it all at once! My little fingers were flying tonight! Some fluff, some angst, some smut, followed by some more fluff, just what we all love. I don't have much to say about this one other than ENJOY! I'll be working on a one shot based on that stupid little gladiator fit, the outfit did nothing for me but THE ARMS AND THE FACE??? best believe we need a lil something based on that. Love y'all!!!
I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx
“I’m so sorry I have to cut this short hun.” Lewis said as he wiped his mouth across the table, his eyes truly apologetic.
“I’m just glad I got to see you for a few minutes while you were here.” You said softly, your heeled foot brushing his calf under the table, your words coming out much shyer than your actions.
It wasn’t that you and Lewis were new to each other, far from it. You had met him at the beginning of his season and now here he was, just a few weeks away from moving to Ferrari. Every break he had he’d made time to see you, yet he’d been a perfect gentleman the entire time. Yes, the pet names were laid on in excess and the touches had begun to linger a few months ago but you were becoming restless for more. You really couldn’t blame yourself when he had the audacity to sit across the table from you looking so incredible, being so sweet every time he suggested you get together. Yes, you may have turned him down at first but this was getting ridiculous, there's no way you two were not on the same page.
“I don’t want to cut anything short, I wish I could stay, I really do,” He paused as he reached forward to grab your hand, “but I have a red carpet in like two days and I have to meet with Eric.”
“Mmm,kay” you huffed out infantly.
“Nah, don’t do that, I’ll see you before I head out, I promise.” He smirked at your attitude, squeezing your hand.
“So you don’t have any time for a pretty girl in between dinner and Eric?” You asked, attempting to layer the sultry and lust in your voice as you let your foot wander higher.
“Y/N.” His voice came out strained but stern, his strong hand grabbing your leg, “I cut it close by even getting dinner with you tonight, just couldn’t stay away.”
“So it sounds like I win over Eric.” You giggled, leaning forward on the table, your calf still in his strong palm.
“Don’t do this to me,” He groaned, “Listen I can leave the tab open, just don’t go home with anyone unless you’re calling me.”
“What if I call you in like 10 minutes?” you giggled again, his hand snaking up your calf despite how composed he was trying to stay.
“Y/N.” He warned, his voice low but his hand never ceasing its exploration.
“Well you go have fun with business things I guess, I’ll be here enjoying the atmosphere and free drinks, as long as I end my night with you.” You told him with a laugh as he stood up, dropping your leg abruptly, no amusement to be shown on his face.
“Not so sure you know what you just asked for baby girl, enjoy the drinks, I’ll send you a car.” Lewis whispered, bent down so only you could hear, making your stomach flip, finishing with a kiss to your cheek.
You watched as his muscular body moved away, staring at him intently as he told the host something while looking directly at you. Through the rest of the evening you enjoyed free drinks while sat with the best view, you listened as the dinner atmosphere turned into a club yet no one disrupted you unless they were refilling your drink. You were happily buzzed and seconds later your phone was buzzing just as much as you were.
“I couldn’t just send a car…” His sultry British accent came over the speaker.
“Are you saying you’re outside to pick me up sir?” You teased him.
“Of course baby, c’mon before I hire someone to drag you out.” He chuckled
“She came in with Lewis Hamilton but he didn't leave with her”
“Heard he's been seeing some woman on the east side.”
“He can't even convince us he likes his car, why would he like her”
The laughter of the girls that were probably too young to be there anyway stuck in your chest. A 15 year olds opinion didn’t matter right? But then again they see the tabloids and you avoid them…
By the time you’re out of the restaurant and into Lewis' car you find yourself in a foul mood, your happy buzz turning into a sad drunk imagining everything he could have done in the last few hours.
“You okay love?” He asks as you plop into the passenger seat, not even waiting for him to see you and open it up for you.
“Mmmm.” You humm, still stupidly in your head.
“Y/N, what’s going on? I’m so sorry I had to leave but-” Lewis starts his argument as he pulls onto the freeway.
“You do whatever you want, Lewis.” You say sharply,
“Woah, where did that come from?” Lewis asks, sharp but inquisitive.
“I should have known you were too good for me, my lew was just a fucking phase. All the damn teenagers in the restaurant knew it… you went and got fucked by someone else, I get it, i made you wait, you’re you, you’re a playboy and I guess-” You try to rant before his hand is against your mouth
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asks, finally letting your mouth free with a look of pure confusion.
“What am I talking about? Where the hell did you go tonight? What are all those girls talking about?” You ask him sharply.
“Y/N, I went and saw Eric, I told you that. And are you talking about the teenage girls trying to get drinks at the bar?” His voice is firm before turning to further confusion.
“Yes Lewis, I am, they had lots to say as I left.” You try to keep your voice firm but it ends up sounding childish as you slump into your seat, crossing your arms across your chest.
“Y/N, those girls are like 15 years old and probably drunk for the first time in their lives, they were trying to drunkenly flirt with me when I left as if that isn’t a damn felony. Why the hell are you listening to anything they have to say?” His voice is incredulous, unable to process that the night has taken them to this point.
“Well you’re not denying a word they said right now, are you?” You throw back at him.
“I honestly didn’t think I had to!” He exclaims, still in disbelief.
You let out a scoff, turning to look out the window.
“Y/N, c’mon, I had a meeting with Eric, one that I was late to so I could make time to see you, I’m here to pick you up so I can spend more time with YOU. Why the hell would I be off with someone else?” His voice is firm but still holds a faint questioning tone.
“I don’t know, I’m evidently not good enough for you, I don’t even know how or why I caught your attention in the first place. I don’t even know what the hell it is that we’re doing. You haven’t even kissed me Lewis! I constantly feel like an idiot, I sit here wanting you to fuck me and the most I get out of you is you calling me ‘baby’.” You let all of your thoughts come out, against your better judgment, slumping against your seat with a huff.
He is quiet for a moment, stunned to silence. He is struggling between keeping his eyes on the road and staring at you in utter disbelief, a look you would see if you had the guts to steal a glance at him.
“I- I honestly don’t even know where to start…” He says quietly, trailing off.
“You know I’m right, that's why you don't know what to say.” You state as if it's a fact, a sassy quip in your tone as you shrug your shoulders, a sassiness that only comes out after some drinks.
He so badly wants to laugh, not only at your unusual sassiness but at just how ungodly wrong you are, but he knows that he can’t, that he shouldn’t, it would only make everything worse. Instead he does his best to stay firm.
“Sweetheart, no, you couldn’t be further from right. I adore you, I’m just…” He sighs, trying to find the way to explain his feelings without sending you further over the edge, “I’m trying to be a gentleman here, I’m trying to do things a little different than I normally would. I’m out of practice with this whole romance thing and I know that you were skeptical of it at first too. I don’t want to rush you, I just love being around you.”
You scowl at being called out, knowing he’s right, you were very skeptical when you first met him, not convinced that being anything other than an acquaintance of a man of his caliber was a smart idea. You don’t dwell on it though, the liquor in your brain deciding to latch on to something else, ‘he just loves being around you’, there it is, you’re friends.
“So you’re not attracted to me?” You almost whine, if you were sober you would be embarrassed at how it came out but you can’t find it in you to care right now.
“Where the hell did you get that?” He asks, this time he can’t hold back the chuckle.
“You literally just said that you just love being around me.” You point out, still clearly not understanding much of what he said.
“Yes, and I do, how does that translate to me not being attracted to you?” He questions, a small smirk on his face as he notices that your mood is switching slightly from angry to bratty.
“You said JUST, meaning that’s all you want.” You challenge him, reading far too much into his words.
“Y/N, I also said I’m trying to be a gentleman with you and not rush you because of your feelings and boundaries.” He says calmly as he keeps his eyes on the road, trying not to get irritated with the beautiful tipsy woman next to him.
“Well how long were you planning on being a gentleman because I’ve been wanting you to fuck me for about six months now.” You say boldly.
His eyes go wide as he chokes on his own spit, not used to you being so blatant. The two of you flirt, things have gotten suggestive between you two more often than not, but you so boldly admitting something like that is new territory for him. He has to take a moment to gather himself before speaking.
“I- I didn’t know that,” He admits, his voice low, “I honestly thought you had just barely warmed up to the idea of us being more than friends.”
“What about my foot on your crotch tonight seemed like I still wanted to be just your friend?” You laugh in disbelief, slightly unsure if you are bad at putting yourself out there or if he is that bad at reading signs.
“Well yeah, tonight was pretty clear what you wanted, and to be honest I was going to give you exactly that after my meeting, it’s why I picked you up! I’ve been going crazy trying to go slow!” He exclaims.
“Was?” You question quickly.
“What?” He asks, blinking in confusion.
“You said was.” You point out.
“Oh jeez, not this again Y/N.” He huffs, ready for you to be mad at him for a whole new reason.
“No no no, you said ‘was going to give you exactly that’. You don’t want to fuck me anymore?” You pout as you question him.
He once again has to take a moment to gather himself, still unsure how to handle your unabashedness. 
“No, I do! In the future, yes, and I will if you’ll let me, but you got in this car ready to cut my head off or at the very least never speak to me again, I kinda thought that the flirty mood from dinner had gone out the window.” He tries to explain as you near his house. With the argument he hadn’t even taken a moment to consider that maybe he should be dropping you at yours instead.
“So not tonight?” You huff.
“No Y/N, probably not tonight.” He says quietly, a hint of disappointment lingering in his words as he pulls into his driveway.
“Why are we here then?” You ask, unsure of what to do now.
“Just come inside for a bit, you can sleep in the guestroom if you want or I can call you a car later if you really want, but I don’t think this conversation is really done.” He coaxes you, undoing his seatbelt and turning to look at you.
“I feel like I’ve made my points.” You shrug, staying firmly seated in your spot.
This time he truly can’t help but laugh at you, getting out of the car and making his way to your door.
“Well maybe I haven’t made all of mine.” He says as he stands in the doorframe, his hand extended to help you out of the car.
You don’t say anything, choosing to stare straight ahead as the brattiness really sets in.
“Y/N, if you don’t get out of the car on your own I won’t hesitate to pick you up myself, c’mon.” His voice is slightly teasing but you can hear how serious he is.
Finally you sigh in defeat, grabbing his hand to step out of the car. You hate that the second you feel his skin on yours your whole body warms. Tingles go down your spine and everything feels just right, you’re meant to be holding his hand, you’re meant to be so much more than just friends, but right now you’re mad at him, so you do your best to shake it off. You’re confident that you played it cool but he could see the feelings from a mile away, the same warmth enveloping him the moment you placed your smaller hand in his. He would normally tease you, but right now he knows not to muddy the waters, he needs you to actually listen to him when he gets you inside. You snatch your hand back from him once you are standing, watching awkwardly as he grabs your purse and closes the car door before gesturing for you to head towards his house. You feel like a lost puppy, obeying his commands but you can’t help it, your bratty mood only has so much strength. When you get inside you feel out of place, despite having been there many times. You can’t explain exactly why you feel so bizarre about it, maybe it’s that you’re finally sobering up and starting to realize that you still have many doubts, maybe it’s that you’re sobering up and realizing exactly what you accused him of in the car, maybe it’s that you’re sobering up and really becoming aware that you blatantly told the man you wanted him to fuck you, regardless of what it is you would rather not be sober right now. The tension hanging in the air as he puts his jacket away is weighing on you like a heavy snow, you want him to put you out of your misery and break the silence but he doesn’t. Instead he just moves towards the kitchen, leaving you to follow him aimlessly. He grabs a glass from the cupboard as you wander over to his wine cooler, ready to make your selection for the talk you're about to have. Before you can even take in the selections you feel his hands on your waist, guiding you away and toward the kitchen island.
“Nope, I think you’ve had enough, sit.” He says firmly in your ear as he just about places you on a bar stool.
You don’t say anything, just watch as he makes his way back to the other side of the island, filling the glass he’d just taken out with water before he’s sliding it in your direction.
“I’m not thirsty.” You say, staring at the glass in front of you.
“You wanted wine about 20 seconds ago.” He deadpans, calling you out with a raise of his eyebrow.
“You know damn well that's not why I wanted the wine.” You shoot back at him, “You said you had points to make, go ahead.” You prompt him, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.
He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he shakes his head and a look of amusement creeps its way onto his face. He takes a moment, just staring at you, taking you in and you start to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
“Y/N, I don’t know what else to do.” He admits, sounding defeated.
You don’t respond verbally, furrowing your brow in confusion as you cock your head.
“I know we got to a… I guess a better place, back in the car, but I still don’t think you actually get it.” His voice is quiet, he sounds vulnerable.
This is unusual for you, you’re not used to Lewis being anything other than charming and cocky, to see him look defeated, vulnerable, it makes your stomach twist.
“I don’t get what?” You ask quietly, suddenly feeling slightly guilty.
“Hun, I try so hard. I don’t have enough time, and I know that, and I’m sorry for that, but I do my very best to see you as much as I physically can. When I’m away I try to not let a day go by where I don’t at least text you much less call you. I do stupid things with my schedule if it means I get to spend a few extra minutes with you. We’ve talked about things far deeper and greater than anything I’ve ever told my closest friends. I try to make every time I see you special because I know I’m not around for the casual moments and I have to be honest, most of that I’m not even doing for you. I’m doing it for myself because you are one of the most incredible women that I’ve ever met and I would kick myself if I let you fall through my fingers, yet here I am and it seems like I’ve done just that.” His eyes bore into yours as his words flow out freely, clearly unashamed about his feelings.
“I know you try hard, I never said you didn’t.” You say quietly, feeling almost like a child getting reprimanded after a tantrum.
“I know you didn’t say it, but I can’t help but feel it when you get in my car after a good night and immediately make it very clear that you don’t trust me.” He says firmly, his gaze never leaving yours.
“I do trust you.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Then why are you listening to drunk kids in a bar gossiping about things they know nothing about? Why don’t you tell me what you want with me? Things like the fact that apparently you’ve wanted to fuck me for the last six months? Why didn’t you tell me you were starting to maybe feel differently about this whole relationship after making it very clear that I didn’t have a shot?” His questions pour out in a way that makes your stomach knot, knowing he’s right to question all of it.
“I was drunk.” You answer meekly, hoping answering one question will be enough.
He lets out a dry laugh, “Okay, we’ll write that one off. What about the rest of it, Y/N?”
“It scares the shit out of me.” You admit so quietly you’re not sure he can hear as you stare at the glass of water in front of you.
“Admitting it to me or being with me?” He questions, his voice much softer now.
“All of it.” You say, feeling tears forming in your lash line.
“Explain it to me hun, because from where I am, we have a pretty amazing thing here if we just lean into it.” He says, so softly it could make you burst.
“I spend every day questioning not only why but hell if you’re even attracted to me. I know you have a billion other options so I don’t understand why you keep coming back, I’m afraid I’m just fun for you but then I think about it and I realize I’m not even your fun! We’re in wildly different worlds and I don’t even know how anything would ever work. I worry that you won’t be able to actually commit to anything. I worry that I’m the only one here feeling like this and I’m terrified of looking stupid and I’m terrified of losing the little bit of you that I have.” You rant, your tears now slipping past your lashes.
His face immediately softens when he sees your tears, quickly stepping around the island to get closer to you. He grabs the back of your chair, turning you to face him.
“Y/N, baby, I need to remind you that the very day we met, I point blank asked you out and you turned me down,” He starts quietly, taking your face in his hands to wipe away your tears as they fall, “I argued that we seemed like a good match and you had the audacity to agree with me but told me that you wanted a man that wasn’t fucking around, wouldn’t toss you to the side when he got busy. You told me that a romance with me sounded dangerous and that wasn’t what you were looking for but I couldn’t let you slip away like that so I asked you to let me prove that I could be that for you.”
You both laugh gently, remembering the first encounter that started all of this.
“I’ve been here trying to prove it to you, trying to be the perfect gentleman that you deserve, trying not to rush you, waiting for you to tell me you were ready. You didn’t say anything until tonight. And no, I’m not an idiot, I saw you starting to flirt more openly with me, I noticed you opening up about things, things becoming more intimate, but I swore I wouldn’t cross that line until the day you told me I could. If it’s just the logistics of it, that’s something we can work out, we’re both pretty smart people, I just need you to be honest with me.” He smiles softly at you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“Please kiss me.” You whimper, if your brain wasn’t processing all his words at a thousand miles an hour in the moment you may have cared about how you sounded, but after his speech all you wanted was his lips on yours.
“Is that your official way of telling me I can cross the line? That you’ll actually consider this?” He asks, his face closer to yours but still needing that final confirmation.
“God yes Lewis, I want you, I want to be yours, I want you to be mine, I’m sorry.” You say quickly, grabbing his arms in an attempt to get him closer.
“No need to apologize, beautiful girl.” The words leave his lips softly before they press against yours.
The second you feel his warm lips and their gentle touch, you melt. You feel complete the second he’s kissed you, unsure why you fought it for so long. His grip on your face is steady, grounding, everything you need. He pulls away much too quickly for your liking, keeping the kiss sweet, too PG for what you’re craving desperately. You chase his lips making him release a giggle that only causes you to pout.
“So you approve, huh?” He teases you, his hands coming down to rest on your waist.
“Oh shush, acting like you didn’t love it too.” You say, your pout morphing into a smirk that you can’t contain.
“I didn’t say I didn’t.” He says, leaning back into your lips.
This time he’s slightly less hesitant, his lips moving against yours gently. You can tell he’s holding back still but you're just too pleased to care, only causing excitement of what's to come when he’s less restrained.
“You know, two hours ago you were ready to rail me and now you’re being almost shy with the kisses.” You laugh at him when you finally pull away for air.
“Ssshhh, I’m just getting used to the territory.” He teases you, placing another peck to your lips.
“About that whole you picking me up to bring me back here and ya know…” You trail off, hoping he gets the hint of where you’d like the evening to go.
He lets out a sigh, pinching your hip before speaking, “I know, but not tonight. Just feel like we need to take a second.”
You pout at him again to which he just chuckles, pecking your pout sweetly.
“You’re the one who wanted to take it slow.” He points out.
“You’re the one who told me I was supposed to get laid tonight.” You throw back at him.
“Well you were the one with her foot on my cock.” He says, his eyebrows raised.
You gulp, the word tumbling from his mouth making your stomach coil in a much different way than earlier in the night.
“I-” You start, all the sudden feeling shy.
“Hmmm, cats got your tongue?” He jests.
“Well you were all ready to fuck me tonight but you wouldn’t even kiss me without explicit consent.” You blurt out, trying to call him on his contradiction.
“Fair point, but you were driving me to a new level of insanity at dinner tonight and I thought I was getting the message loud and clear.” He says calmly, leaning back in to kiss you again.
You silently pray that maybe just maybe he’s going back on his word as his lips move against yours, that maybe he’s changed his mind and you’ll end up in his bed tonight, but much to your dismay he pulls away once again despite your attempts to lock him into you with your arms around his neck.
“I could get used to finally being allowed to kiss you.” He smirks.
“You could be doing a whole lot more than that, but no, you’re keeping up the whole stupid gentleman thing.” You say, irritation seeping through your words.
“You told me you wanted a gentleman.” He throws back with an eyebrow cocked, amusement clear on his face.
“Well you proved that part, I want the rest now.” You almost whine, locking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in. You find yourself annoyed for the first time by how strong he is when he doesn't move, never before being anything other than pleased by the godlike muscles under his skin.
He simply laughs at you, noticing that you're still a tiny bit tipsy, more unrestrained than usual.
“Alright, well you’ve already become a koala, how about I carry you to bed.” He chuckles, finally moving closer to you, only to pick you up.
You feel weightless and safe in his arms, quickly deciding you would let him carry you anywhere forever, a fact that you apparently accidentally state out loud in your still slightly inebriated state.
“Oh yeah? Well you let me know where you want to be carried and I’ve got you babe.” He simply chuckles as he walks toward the guest room, finding your admission endearing. All you can do is hide your blushing face in the crook of his neck.
When he finally plops you down on the mattress of the guest room you manage to pull him down into a kiss once again, one of his hands finding your waist as the other props him up above you. His lips move slower against yours this time, becoming slightly more explorative as you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip. You open your mouth, welcoming him eagerly, the taste of him on your tongue is intoxicating. You take one last chance at what you’ve been dying for for months, moving your hand down from his neck to slip beneath the button down that is draped over his skin. You take your time to explore the solid ridges of muscle bulging beneath soft skin, you can imagine every tattoo that your hand brushes against but you wish nothing more than to actually see them. You can’t help but moan into his mouth when you feel his grip on your waist tighten as you touch him. The sound does something to him, you can feel his whole body tense beneath your touch as you make your way to his back, raking your nails lightly down the skin.
“Please Lew, want you so bad.” You whisper against his lips.
He pulls away from you with such urgency that you're convinced he’s about to say no again. He stands tall next to you, staring at you for a moment, just taking in the sight before him. You're laid on his guest bed, your hair strewn against the pillows with your short cocktail dress riding up your thighs. He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes, you wish for nothing more than to know what he’s thinking at that moment.
“Fucking hell,” He sighs and you begin to accept defeat, “yeah, okay, yeah, I can’t act like I’m not dying here anymore, but not here.”
You feel giddy the moment you hear his words, not processing what he meant by ‘not here’ until you're being scooped up bridal style, taking you by surprise.
“Lewis, we were in a bed.” You laugh, leaning in to place soft kisses against his neck that have him faltering in his steps.
“Yeah we were, but mine is much better and if this is happening you’re staying with me for the night.” He states as calmly as he can despite the tension flowing through his body.
It's a short walk before you’re once again being placed on a bed and you have to admit he was right, his bed is much better. You whine when you feel him move away making him laugh at just how needy you are.
“Patience baby girl, gotta find a light so I can see just how amazing you look when I make you cum.” His voice is teasing but serious, making your body flood with anticipation.
Within seconds he’s flicked on a warm light, a lamp by the side of his bed, just enough so you can see him as he stands next to you finishing undoing the last few buttons of his shirt. Your mouth goes dry when he shrugs it down his shoulders and you become nervous at how you might react to seeing him fully naked. It’s not that you haven’t seen Lewis shirtless before, it’s the knowledge that now you get to touch him, you know that his skin will very soon be pressed against yours, and it's driving you insane. You reach out toward him, your hand finding the skin just above his pants before he grabs your wrist.
“What did I just say Y/N?” He says lowly as he moves over you once again, “patience.”
“Been waiting so long Lewis, I don’t have any left.” You whine, your hips bucking up towards him when he presses a kiss just below your ear.
“Mmmm,” He hums through a chuckle before his voice turns thoughtful, “how do you think i feel? Been waiting a hell of a lot longer sweet girl. I gotta savour this.”
His lips tracing your neck are teasing, just enough contact to make you squirm but not enough to satisfy the carnal need brewing inside of you. His hands feel larger than ever before as they trace over your body, groping you in spots you never knew would emit such a reaction from you. He hasn't even taken off your dress yet and he has you a whimpering mess, your hands grasping onto his bare torso. You can feel the smirk of satisfaction on his face as he kisses down your throat, his hands finally reaching for the straps of your dress.
“Do you step in or is there a zipper?” He suddenly asks, taking you by surprise as he pulls away for a moment.
“Huh?” You shake your head, trying your best to come out of the absolute daze he had just put you in.
“Your dress.” He clarifies, not that it helps you any.
“Yeah? What about it?” You ask again, eager to have his lips on you again and still not fully back in your brain.
He smiles, laughing lightly as he shakes his head, “Your dress, did you just step into it or is there a zipper I need to find. It’s so pretty, don’t wanna ruin it.” His hands are massaging your hips as he speaks, not doing much to help you actually process his question.
“Um, there’s a zipper on the side, why did you-” Your question is cut off by his lips on yours once again.
“I’m in fashion baby, I’m familiar.” He mumbles against your lips as his fingers find the zipper, gracefully undoing it before his hands are back at the straps of the dress. Once again he pauses, “You absolutely sure?”
“Positive Lewis, I want this so much.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice firm so he has no further need to question you and delay what you're so desperately seeking.
The moment he hears the words leave your lips he’s back in action, his hands lowering the straps of your dress and pushing it down your body. You become very aware of the fact that you chose to go without a bra for the dress when you see his wide eyes staring at your chest. You almost feel shy but the way he’s looking at you takes any hesitation away. Once he’s taken in his view, he’s leaning down, peppering kisses across your whole chest. You can’t help but moan his name at the feeling of his lips on your skin, your grip on the back of his neck tightening. You almost explode when you feel his warm mouth wrap around your sensitive bud, his thumb brushing gently, teasingly over the other. You aren’t sure how you will be able to actually take it when you get to what you are dying for. You are writhing beneath him, spurring him on with every little whimper he pulls out of you.
“God, the little sounds you make, fucking music.” He murmurs against your skin as his kisses begin to trail lower, making his way down your abdomen.
When he finally reaches your hip you think you truly lose your mind. The one and only thought you can muster is ‘Lewis’. He takes his time, kissing across your pelvic bone, moving lower and kissing down the tops of your thighs. Finally he begins his ascent back up, nibbling on your inner thighs as he does, this tongue tracing circles against your skin that you have a desperate need to feel elsewhere, somewhere he’s been neglecting so far. Finally his fingers hook into the band of your thong, a lacey one you chose specifically for tonight, hoping this would happen finally. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking to yours for a final confirmation.
“Please.” You breath out, lifting your hips to help him remove the tiny piece of fabric.
“Fuck Y/N” He says, just as breathless as you as he takes in the sight before him. He’s looking at you with the same admiration that he had when he took your dress off.
His thumb brushes gently against your folds, enough to make you shiver and moan but not nearly enough to satisfy the desire deep in your bones. You move your hips closer to him, earning a faint chuckle but thankfully he takes the queue, parting you open for himself so he can admire the aching bundle of nerves he’s dying to pull into his mouth. He strokes against you gently, just a few flicks before his thumb is trailing down to your opening, swiping up the wetness that is pooling.
“You’re making a mess, baby.” He tells you, his voice smug.
“Well, do something about it.” You snap back at him, your brattiness coming back with full force.
“Yes ma’am.” He laughs, giving you a playful salute that makes you want to slap him.
All your annoyance however is washed away in an instant when his lips finally suction around your mound, shocking you in a way you didn't know was possible. A loud moan leaves your mouth against your will, your hands moving to grab his bedsheets in an attempt to ground yourself. He groans against you, his tongue flicking in the perfect pattern, the combination sending you onto another planet.
“Oh fuck.” You squeal when he grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulders, diving in deeper and closer than he was before.
His mouth trails down, his nose still bumping against your clit as his tongue prods at your entrance, tasting every bit of you he can. His hands are tight on your hips, keeping you in place to pleasure you exactly how he wants. You can feel your stomach tightening, it’s embarrassingly quick you fear, but then he’s slipping a finger into you, his lips latching around your nerves.
“C’mon baby, I can feel it coming, give it to me.” He mumbles against you, the vibrations going through your spine.
You moan loudly, feeling the tension in your body rise. You’re a writhing mess, no longer able to be anchored by the arm draped across your stomach with little purpose. Just when you think you’re about to hit your peak you feel a second finger slip inside you, the pair hooking in the perfect motion that makes you crumble. You’re shaking as you moan loudly, your vision becoming blurry and your ears ringing as you come undone. His fingers never stop their torment, working you through it to ride out the high. When you finally come back into yourself Lewis is kissing along your thighs and leaving soft kisses to your overly sensitive core, his tongue dipping into you every now and again with a smirk.
“That feel okay?” He asks you when he finally sees you watching him, his tone dripping with the ever cocky ego of his.
“Oh shut up.” You giggle, pushing at his head as you burrow your head into the pillow next to you.
“Hey, c’mon now, don’t try to hide from me.” His voice is much closer than it was before and when you turn your head he’s directly above you, hovering over your face with a blissful smile that makes your heart clench.
“Don’t go getting too big of an ego, I needed a good fuck.” You giggle before his lips come down to meet yours.
“Mmmm, well first of all, just so you know, you taste divine and you look immaculate when you come,” He begins, mumbling against your lips before he trails down to your neck, “second of all, you haven’t gotten the good fuck yet darling,” With that he pulls away to look you dead in the eyes, “think you can handle that? Dying to know how incredible you feel.”
Within seconds you’ve gone from content mush to a horny animal again. You don’t know how your brain let you forget about the best part, you needed to feel him.
“Yes, oh my god please.” You breathe out, bordering on begging but you couldn’t care less in the world in that moment.
Your hands begin to move blindly, trying to find his belt buckle but just fumbling with nothing as you get distracted kissing him once again. He smiles, a genuine kind smile as he pulls away from you, sitting back on his heels to undo his pants himself. There’s something about the genuine happiness on his face that makes your heart clench and your stomach flip. He doesn’t just want a quick fuck, he wants you, he’s happy that its you. It’s not the cocky grin of a man who sweet talked some chick into his bed, it’s the genuine smile of a man who finally has the girl he’s been pining over for a year in front of him and finally on the same page. You’re only left to dwell on how much this means to him, to the both of you, for a mere moment, because soon he is lowering his pants and you catch your first proper glimpse of the prominent bulge threatening to burst his boxer briefs. You can’t hide your reaction, your eyes going wide when you see the size of it. You want to slap yourself, you should have known, you should have been prepared. Not only does the man exude ‘big dick energy’ in every thing that he does and says, he is usually sporting a bulge on the day to day without being hard. He clocks your reaction, a warm chuckle reverberating through his chest.
“Still sure about this?” He asks, his voice soft, catching on to your genuine hesitation.
“Can I see it?” You ask and immediately want to take it back, you feel like a teenager afraid of seeing a dick for the first time.
He laughs softly, kicking off his pants fully before leaning down to kiss you again.
“Of course, you can see it, touch it, measure it, inspect it however you want before you decide.” His words are punctuated by kisses, carrying a teasing lilt with every one.
“Stop, it’s just, your ego obviously doesn’t need it, but it looks bigger than what I’m used to.” You whine, your voice becoming shy as you attempt to dodge his kisses in embarrassment.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” The tease has left his tone, his voice soft and serious now, “we only do whatever you can handle, okay?”
You finally look back at him, embarrassed by your shock. The beautiful brown eyes that you meet hold nothing but sincerity, helping your nerves immensely.
“We’ll go slow, yeah?” He prompts, squeezing your thigh.
You nod, wanting desperately to connect with him that intimately. It’s been a desire burning within you for so long now you can't fathom possibly backing out, you know he’ll take care of you.
“You wanna touch it first?” He asks, his voice sincere but still causing you to laugh, making him join in with you, “Hey, I’m serious, maybe it’ll help.” You can hear the seriousness in his voice behind his giggles.
“Okay, yeah, actually that might help.” You admit, your laughter finally quieting down.
When he rids himself of his boxers you almost go through the same shock again. Firstly because of just how large he is, he’s longer than anyone else you've ever seen and so girthy you’re not sure you will be able to wrap your hand around him. Secondly because there he is, naked in all his glory, his strong thighs proudly showing muscles you could never dream of having, his beautiful torso adorned with intricate images and abs that have made you drool since the first time you saw him without a shirt.Your desire for the man in front of you quickly overtakes any hesitation you’d previously had, quickly sitting up to grab him and pull him towards you, crashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth as your tongue dances across his. You take all your lust and turn it into gumption, reaching down and gently brushing your hand along his cock. His grip on you tightens and an almost pained whimper leaves his mouth as you do so. You take that as a good sign, reaching in between your own legs to get your fingers wet before wrapping your hand properly around his cock, stroking him gently. A groan leaves his throat as he forcefully pulls his lips away from you.
“There’s no way you just did what I think you did, is there?” He asks you, his eyes blown out, crazed with lust and disbelief.
You just giggle, swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, leaning in again to catch his lip. He lets you stroke him for only a moment before he’s pulling away and grabbing your wrist.
“It feels amazing babe, but if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He tells you earnestly, his forehead resting against yours as he breathes heavily.
“Well I kinda thought that was the point of this whole thing.” You giggle at him, knowing exactly what he wants but enjoying getting to tease him if only for a moment.
“The point,” He begins, pushing you down to the bed by your hips so he is hovering over you again, “is that I would rather be inside you when I do.” His words are muffled against your skin as he kisses down your neck, your brain short circuiting.
“Please.” You breathe out for what feels like the hundredth time of the night.
“I got you.” He murmurs, your legs locking around his waist.
You feel his bulbous head trailing through your folds, collecting your wetness. You almost feel as if it must be a dream, there's no way you finally got this lucky. Then you feel the slightest bit of pressure at your opening, he's not even inside you yet and you gasp.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you, we’ll go slow, you just keep telling me how you feel, okay?” He whispers in your ear.
You nod and the second he’s sure you want it you feel him pushing forward, the stretch stinging and feeling like too much yet also feeling absolutely perfect. He only thrusts about a quarter of the way in before he’s pausing.
“How you feelin’ baby girl?” His voice is soothing but you can hear the strain as he asks the question. You need him to keep going, the momentary pain melting into ultimate satisfaction.
“More, oh my god, please.” You moan out.
He finally continues, pushing into you with such care it makes your heart burst. The way he’s handling you makes it evident that this isn’t just a fuck for him, it’s a coupling, He cares more about being close to you and your pleasure than he does the rest of it. When you feel his pelvis meet your clit you clench every muscle in your body, feeling fuller than ever before. He lets out a deep groan, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.
“You let me know when I can move sweetie, but you gotta relax for me. Okay?” You can hear the tension in his voice muffled against your neck, his lips moving against your skin.
You let out a breath, working through the overwhelming feeling of being so full of the man you care so deeply about, your body finally relaxing.
“Please move Lew, I need it.” You whimper out, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“That's my girl.” He says softly, his face just above yours with a soft smile as he begins to thrust.
Within moments he has found a pace that has your toes curling and your nails raking down his back. He is hitting every single spot you need him to, stretching you to the limit in the best way possible, working you to your peak in a shockingly quick manner. He’s not rough, he’s not fast, his movements are slow and languid. If he’s not staring directly into your eyes while he whispers sweet and filthy words to you, his lips are on yours as you swallow each other's moans. You’ve never been happier to have a vocal lover than Lewis, you can tell he is loving every single second, that he is overwhelmed with how good he feels. He’s not holding back a single moan, grunt, or groan and it’s only spurring on your pleasure. He sounds so good, looks so good, and feels so fucking good. You’ve never felt quite this all consumed by a man before, he is all that exists in the moment. He is leaning down on his forearms, his large biceps caging you in and it's all you can do not to lean over and bite them. His voice is in your ear when his tongue isn’t in your mouth, his heavy cock is splitting you in two with every perfectly aimed slow deliberate thrust, his pelvis is dragging across your clit giving you every ounce of pleasure you could ever need.You can already feel your toes clenching and your walls beginning to lock him in as you brace yourself in his shoulders.
“God, you feel fucking perfect, fucking made for me. My girl, all mine, huh?” His voice is rough as he talks to you, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes boring into yours.
You can only nod, tears slipping down your face as even moans refuse to escape your throat.
“That’s it baby, just feel it. Taking it like such a good girl.”
The tone of his voice and the dirty words tumbling from his lips have your stomach clenching, you know you’re almost there and so does he. His slow and steady pattern speeds up every so slightly, still keeping the same intimacy but increasing the obscene pleasure running through your body as his hand snakes down to properly rub at your clit.
“Let go for me Y/N, cum all over my cock, I’m right here, I’ve got you, lemme feel it.” His voice is strained but soothing as he talks you to your release.
Within seconds you let out a guttural moan, your whole body tensing as you feel the coil snap. The only word that can leave your mouth is his name, a chant of ‘Lewis’ leaving your tongue as your mind goes blank. You can faintly feel his thrusts falter before his own groan is matching yours, his head falling to your shoulder as thick ropes of cum lace your walls. You have no idea how long it is that you lay there on his bed completely limp. You have a faint memory of the whimper that left your lips when he finally pulled out of you. You know there was a moment of panic when you saw him begin to walk away but you were so blissed out that you ended up focusing on how good his ass looked. What you don’t know is how long it’s been since he left or how long you’ve been laying there, now all you can think about is how badly you want him back next to you. You try to move to sit up but quickly realize the best you can do is prop yourself up on your elbows. As you struggle, Lewis comes back into the room, holding a wet cloth and a glass of water, a smile across his face as he takes in the sight before him.
“You’ve been gone for forever.” You whine, unaware if it's even true or not, doing your best not to admire the fact that he is still stark naked in front of you.
“I’ve been gone for maybe two minutes,” He laughs, making his way towards you, “honestly didn’t even think you would notice, you seemed pretty content off in some bliss land.”
“Hey, that’s technically your fault.” You weakly argue, falling back onto the bed.
“A fault I will happily take,” He smirks, leaning down toward you and pressing his lips against yours, “again, and again, and again, and again.” Each declaration is sealed with a kiss, making you giggle and very weakly try to push him away.
He finally moves away from his assault of kisses, placing the water on the night stand next to you and moving to part your thighs which immediately makes you protest.
“Lew, it was amazing but I can’t.” You whine, squirming away from him.
“Baby,” He laughs, trying to stay sweet but far too amused by your sex drunk mood, “I wasn’t trying anything, I swear, just wanna clean you up because I think a shower is pretty far from your reality right now.”
“Oh.” You mutter, not used to any of your partners ever taking the time to take care of you afterwards. It was usually you realizing a little while later that you had to make sure you peed at the very least.
Lewis however makes sure to take extra care with you, one hand massaging your thigh as the other wipes the warm cloth against your skin. He does smirk when he reaches your core and sees you flinch the slightest bit, but even with your reaction he stays sweet and careful, caressing you in what can only be described as a loving manner. When he’s done, he throws the cloth carelessly onto the floor, something you would have thought would drive him insane, knowing he’s a tidy control freak. Instead of worrying about it, he runs his hands up your sides, kneading at your flesh in a way that somehow feels intimate but not sexual.
“Do you want to sleep like this? Or do you want some clothes?” He asks gently, placing a kiss to your stomach that once again manages to not feel suggestive somehow.
You can feel yourself getting shy. You know the answer he wants but you really want at least a t-shirt, something about sleeping naked has always made you feel weird. You hesitate for a moment, your answer apparently written all over your face because he just smiles and places another kiss against your skin before getting up and heading towards his closet.
“T-shirt or sweatshirt?” He calls out from within the closet, not an ounce of bother in his tone.
“Sweatshirt?” You answer, unsure of yourself.
“Boxers, shorts, or sweatpants?” He calls out again, unphased by your request.
“Is boxers weird?” You ask, still unsure.
“Nope!” He says, emerging from the closet, now wearing a pair of sweatpants low on his hips, his hand full of a stack of clothing for you.
“I’m sorry.” You mutter as you sit up to take the clothing from him.
“Arms up,” He says, the sweatshirt above your head ready to dress you, making you giggle, “and why are you sorry for wanting to be comfy while you sleep?” His voice is muffled through the thick fabric of the sweatshirt that he places over your head.
“I’m sure you would have rathered, I said naked.” You admit as your head pops out the neck hole making him laugh.
“Sweetie, you’re in my bed, that’s all I need. Want you to be comfortable.” He says sincerely, a soft smile on his face as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Besides I’ve always been kinda convinced that monsters will grab me if I have a foot out from under my blanket so I can’t blame you for wanting to sleep in something.”
You can’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, knowing that that was one of your childhood fears yet it still follows one of the most fearless men you know.
“Alright, ya gotta scooch this beautiful bum.” His instructions come out soft with a soft pat to your ass as he slides the boxers up your legs.
Everything about the moment feels so loving and playful, it’s hard to imagine that this man that is saying bum and telling you he’s afraid of monsters under the bed was making you see stars and become delirious mere minutes ago. This was a feeling you could definitely get used to. Once you were dressed, Lewis was prying the blankets out from under you, attempting to make room for himself in the bed, laughing at your lack of movement.
“Okay, first note to self, she’s a damn bed hog.” He said playfully once you were both in the sheets, his arm wrapping around you in an attempt to pull you as close as possible.
“Hey, you can’t possibly already be making a cons list, you wore me down like three hours ago.” You argue, half serious, as he maneuvers you so you’re laying against his chest as he hikes your leg up over his hips.
“Not a cons list, just a things to remember list.” He assures you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Okay, I suppose I can live with that.” You huff playfully into his chest, your fingers tracing patterns along his pecs.
He hums in satisfaction, evidently enjoying your soft touch on his skin as you cuddle further into him.
“Hey Lewis.” You grab his attention, your voice muffled with your cheek smushed into his chest.
“Yeah baby?” His voice is tired as he massages the back of your head, his other hand tracing soothing patterns on your back underneath his stolen sweatshirt.
“We’re gonna make this work, right?” You ask him, your voice timid but needing to hear the confirmation before you can let yourself fall into a peaceful sleep.
“I’m going to do everything in my damn power Love, would never forgive myself for letting you slip away” He tells you seriously even though you can tell he’s beginning to drift off.
That’s all you needed to hear. You let yourself nestle even further into him than you thought was possible, beyond happy that you finally admitted that this was your man. Nothing could ever be perfect, and while your reservations may still have some validity, nothing was better than this beautiful man underneath you and you were prepared to fight like hell to keep him.
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landograndprix · 1 year ago
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╰┈➤ ❝ desire us • l.n ❞ iii
part two - part four
➪ life changed after you decided to go through it as a single woman, offering your daughter the best life she deserves, focusing on work, friends and family but damn, that guy.
➪ co-parenting, dead-beat fathers and curious friends.
➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles (platonic) x lando
➪ my babies are back and they're lying their asses off <3
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y/nusername
📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco
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liked by charles_leclerc, manon_roux and 478,963 others
y/nusername obsessed actually.
tagged: manon_roux, alicedidier, charles_leclerc
view all 1,425 comments
hamilt44n ma'am how many more babies are you going to steal from your friends? 😭
charlesgirlies so true bestie I'm obsessed with Leo leclerc as well!
↳ charlesgirlies and the other dog, don't know who he is but I love him as well ❤️
bobnorriz oooh who got you those chocolates huh? 👀
pierregasss time to have your own babies again!
↳ lanlan yes!!!! Zoey would make such a good sister!
norry4 first if all its zoë and not Zoey and second of all, stop telling y/n she should get another kid..it's weird
bananacharles obsessed with Charles as well?
estiebestieocon baby number two when? 👀
manon_roux so that's where my son went..
↳ y/nusername *our son
milliexoxo little Noah belongs to us all 💙
alicedidier all our kids belong to you all apparently
y/nusername yeah 🥰
leolec16 leoooooooo 🥰
schumimick charles gave zoe a baby brother now its your turn 😍
↳ yukisan girl stfu maybe she doesn't want to???
norrizz some of y'all so rude! If you were even the slightest bit interested in y/n like you claim, you'd know having kids is difficult and having zoë wasn't something that just happened..
↳ norry4 this!!
charliecharles I didn't even know this...how do you know?
norrizz go watch zoë's 2nd bday vlog
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y/nusername posted to their story
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manon_roux replied to your story
manon_roux
you are giving this man way too many chances
y/nusername
he showed up sober
manon_roux
This man has problems
y/nusername
Zoë still likes her grandpa
manon_roux
this man is not grandpa worthy
he's never been a normal dad how does he know how to love a child in the first place?
are you alone with him or is charles with you?
y/nusername
yeah and joris so I'm good
we're almost leaving
manon_roux
where are you staying?
charles? Hotel?
y/nusername
what's got that to do with all this?
manon_roux
Just curious 😉
y/nusername
I've got a roof over my head, I'm fine.
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y/nusername posted to their story
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milliexoxo replied to your story
milliexoxo
you might be able to fool some people but I know exactly where these pictures are taken, I've been in that man's house a lot 😂
you're at lando's place?
y/nusername
If you know, why'd you ask?
milliexoxo
So? 👀
y/nusername
he offered me a place to stay, he's not even in town so calm down
milliexoxo
Wow I'm just curious 😂
y/nusername
last time you were curious about my relationship with lando you threw a tantrum because i broke up with him..
milliexoxo
Can you stop using that against me? 😭
I was immature and dumb ass fuck and I've apologised for it
So you're not together together?
y/nusername
No millie, we're not
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y/nusername
📍 Miami, Florida
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liked by charles_leclerc, milliexoxo and 465,577 others
y/nusername dora, boots & swiper.
tagged: milliexoxo
norrizz you're dora, zoë's boots so millie is swiper?
↳ y/nusername you know it! 🤗
milliexoxo always made the villain
norrizz millie you are a criminal, you're always the villain 😂
piastry mom's weekend with the kids <3
yukisan bunch of pretty ladies 🥰
manon_roux 🎶 backpack, backpack 🎶
↳ y/nusername 🎶 backpack, backpack 🎶
manon_roux 🕺 💃 🕺💃🕺💃🕺
julieeeexo when you're a mom, you turn up to kids shows 😂
y/nusername ask millie where she got the dress from
↳ hamilt44n where's millie's dress from?
y/nusername my closet
hamilt44n 😭 😭
milliexoxo best store in town tbh
landooooo just 3 bestie exploring the world together :)
sharl16 so we just gonna ignore the fact y/n, lando and zoë flew to miami together like a happy little family or what???
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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @ireadthensuetheauthors @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld @destinyg237
Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream
Desire taglist; @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse
957 notes · View notes
checopereez · 1 year ago
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how the f1 would react to you being pregnant
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charles leclerc
charles would be so joyful. he is a total family person and he loves babies. charles has been wishing for you two to become parents for so long and when you told him the news, he first burst into tears before hugging you tightly.
pierre gasly
pierre would be shocked. he wouldn't know what to say, as pierre thinks having a baby would not fit into his life style. but then pierre would imagine having a little version of you or him running around and his heart would soften. he would then hug you gently and say that everything will be alright.
carlos sainz
carlos would be angry. not at you, of course but at himself. carlos knew you weren't sure about having kids as of right now and when looking at your eyes, carlos could see fear. he thought he pressured you into something you didn't really want but then you would smile at him and say that you couldn't wait to start a family with him.
daniel ricciardo
daniel would be joyous. at first you feared telling him because you thought having a child would not fit with daniel's style of life. but daniel would grin widely and press kisses all over your face, your clothed belly, telling the baby in your belly that he couldn't wait to meet them.
oscar piastri
oscar would cry. he wouldn't know what to do, as he felt like you both were way too young to raise a child. you would feel the same, scared that everything would fall apart. but after calming down, oscar would take your face into his hands, wipe your tears away and say that no matter what, he would always be by your side and that you two could do everything as long as you would stick together.
666 notes · View notes
somejazzinthemorning · 2 years ago
Text
playing cupid.
Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: Mentions of sex and some curse words. There are some inaccuracies, such as in this short story, Carlos has an apartment in Milan] Word Count: 9.7K
You're in this situationship with Carlos Sainz—no fuss, no drama, just sex. But then your dads become friends, and Sainz Sr., with a soft spot for you, decides to introduce you to his son, whom you've been... acquainted with for a while. To make things more interesting, he's on a mission to play Cupid, all while Carlos enjoys the thrill of keeping your little secret, playing along with his dad.
this was a request! always feel free to request and if i have some free time, I'll try to write something 🫶🏼
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“Apparently, our dads met”, you say, rolling off Carlos's lap, still flushed and your breath ragged. The soft bed cushions your fall as you curl up beneath the deep blue blanket that usually adorns the foot of Carlos's bed, but this time is just part of the mess.
Carlos studies you with a faint frown, tousled hair spilling over his forehead. He looks incredibly handsome, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. If it weren’t for the late hour and your impending early morning, you would consider straddling him again. However, it’s nearly 2 a.m. and you need to be at the atelier by 9, so you just wish to sleep.
“Really?” There’s an undertone you don’t quite understand.
“What?”
"You just killed the mood.” He lays back on the bed and turns to face you. His hands seek out your shoulder, and his nimble fingers begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin, a clear indication that he’s not ready to let the night end just yet. “Mentioning my dad right after I cum inside you? Not exactly what I expect.”
“I just remembered it, and now I know you’ll get your hands off of me and let me sleep.”
“Oh, that’s not what I was expecting, as well.”
You pout, mocking him. “Poor you,” he rolls his eyes and falls dramatically against his pillow. “I’m just expecting a good night of sleep because some of us have work to do during the week and not just on weekends.” He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know that sometimes you work during the week.”
Carlos opens his mouth to retort, but he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. In an instant, he sits up, looming over you, and seizes both your wrists, pinning them against the headboard. With his other hand, he's ready to tug the blanket over your form.
"Don't you dare tickle me, Carlos Sainz. Or I swear to God—"
"What are you going to do?" Carlos interrupts, his mischievous grin returning. As you lock eyes with him, you realize there's very little you can do, and oddly enough, you're entirely fine with that. Except,
"Spit in your face."
His playful smirk remains as he leans in closer, his voice a sultry whisper. "Spit in my face, huh?” he taunts, his fingers inching closer to your sides. “Think I’m going to risk it.”
"Sainz,” you squirm under his touch, desperately trying to maintain your composure. But he’s already grinning, and his fingers are approaching your sides. “I'm warning you..."
And suddenly, it's too late. He pounces, his fingers dancing across your sides, and you burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, some of them louder than you expected them to be. Carlos knows all your ticklish spots, and he exploits them shamelessly. It’s been what…? Four months since you first slept together. By now he knows your body better than any guy ever did. And honestly, you’re not sure what to feel about that.
"Carlos, stop!" you manage to gasp between laughter, trying to wriggle free from his grip. It's a futile effort as he continues his relentless assault, determined to elicit every giggle and squeal he can from you.
Finally, he relents, his laughter joining yours as he releases your wrists. You pant for breath, your cheeks flushed from both the laughter and the earlier efforts. You take the opportunity to jump out of bed. “You’re the worst. I gotta pee.”
You disappear into the bathroom, to pee, clean yourself and try to comb your hair, and by the time you go back to the bedroom, you’re expecting him to be asleep. But you find him awake. His eyes shine brighter when you go through the door, and he watches you with a tender smile as you enter the bed and curl against him, fitting perfectly into his embrace.
The warmth of his body against you is comforting.
"I think I'll let you sleep now," he voices low in your ear, as he pulls over the comforter and covers you both.
"You better.”
Carlos's chest rises and falls rhythmically beneath your cheek as you nestle closer. You can hear the faint hum of his heartbeat, and it lulls you into a peaceful state. He smells like Bleu de Chanel and the lingering traces of your passion. With every breath, you inhale the essence of the man who has woven himself into the fabric of your life, in more ways than one.
Just as you're about to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, it hits you like lightning—the visit your mom mentioned, the whole reason you brought up his dad’s name.
You nudge Carlos gently, rousing him from his half-asleep state. "Just remembered something."
Carlos doesn’t even open his eyes. "Hmm?”
“My dad invited yours over,” you were not sure if you should be excited or nervous. Not for the visit itself, but for Carlos’ reaction to the idea of you meeting his dad.
After all, you had just been sleeping together, barely leaving your apartments, except for that one time he took you out to dinner, and that was probably because it was your birthday and perhaps Carlos would feel bad about just booty-calling you and ignoring the whole birthday thing.
“Well, that’s a nice way to introduce you to him.”
“What?”
Carlos just pressed you closer to him, like you weren’t practically glued together already. "It's okay, cariño. They’ll love you. Now sleep."
It all started at Milan Fashion Week when Carlos was representing Ferrari at an event. You were there, lurking in the shadows, taking in the magic of the fashion show. Your mentor had gotten you there, a favour you'll always be grateful for. There's a lot you can't remember about the event, about the whole night to be fair, but you remember the man awkwardly sitting in the front row. Fashion is not his thing, you thought. You kind of knew that. You kind of knew him.
He drives for Ferrari, he's handsome, he has a thick Spanish accent and hair I would pay to touch.
And that was more than enough to make you introduce yourself at the end of the show. From there, making out in a club took a little more than two hours. To his bed, just a little bit more than that.
You continued to see each other, booty-calling each other when you were feeling horny, bored, or just lonely. Your situationship was a good deal for both parties. No strings attached, which you enjoyed because you had little time and no patience to make any kind of effort to actually maintain a relationship. And Carlos, well... he was also busy as hell, so... all good. So you never went on dates, never needed to put on expectable amounts of makeup for over-the-top dresses. Except for your birthday, when he decided to take you out, and you had to make the effort. But that was your birthday.
Other than that, you would only leave your apartments to go get food at a 24-hour store or McDonald's. You remember that one time you wanted gelato and Carlos took you to his favourite place in Milan, but... other than that, it was just sex. Okay, just sex and marathons of Game of Thrones and House of The Dragon (that led to more sex) and some cooking too. You once taught him how to make your nana's lasagna and how a true Italian bruschetta is done. And a few days later, he cooked you his mom's carbonara—not a real carbonara, not at all. And, let’s be fair, he often brought you pizza from your favourite place in Milano and expensive bottles of wine.
But… “That’s a nice way to introduce you to him”?
You were not expecting that at all.
The idea lingered in your mind all night, and you woke up thinking about it too. You left his apartment while Carlos was still in the shower, just shouting goodbyes while you gathered your stuff and ran to the atelier. He would be out of town for a couple of weeks, away at some races, and you would have time to figure out how your parents met and when said visit was going to happen. All good.
Turns out you didn't have as much time as you thought.
That afternoon, your mom calls you, excitedly recounting their amazing trip to Canada and how much fun your dad had at the race. So, that was where they met. She also shares her plans about taking your brothers to Monza in a couple of months. You nod absentmindedly, your attention more focused on the magazine in front of you than on her words. It's often like this.
Your dad travels for work and actually works. He's a sports manager, deeply passionate about football and motorsports, especially Formula 1. Lately, he's been leaning more towards the latter, especially since he's contemplating retirement. On the other hand, your mom, an ex-model who married a well-off man, has chosen to focus on being a wife and a mother, a role she fulfils with dedication. So, when they’re back home, dad has work to do, contacts to keep and your mom has… well, more than enough time to tell you everything.
"And your dad and Sainz met at the golf course, you know?" your mom continues, her voice full of admiration. "A charming young man. He was golfing with his dad too. Your father had to tell them you refused to join him on the greens."
"In that, he's absolutely right."
"So, they kept talking. They even played together, I think. And he mentioned we were going to the race, and Sainz suggested he could call, and he'd arrange a garage tour. We met him at the paddock, but we ended up not getting the tour because there were already enough guests in there, but… Isn't he just amazing? And so incredibly handsome, piccina. So handsome."
You cringe inwardly at your mom's thirst for Carlos, unable to shake the image of her ogling your... friend. But you hum in response, unable to voice your discomfort because the next moment, she's raving about a dress she bought for you and the amazing designer she met in New York just before returning to Milan, and that topic steals all attention.
But just before she’s about to hang out, you remember why she called you in the first place.
“Mom, about the visit you mentioned? The dinner?” you interject and she chuckles; you can almost envision her rubbing her temples.
"Oh, silly me. I actually called you to discuss that," she sighs. "He's coming to visit us this weekend! You have to come home and meet him; he's really looking forward to getting to know you."
"Doesn't he race this weekend?"
"The young—Since when do you care about F1?"
"I don't. I just—” You quickly think of something, but you’re not quite sure if you want to tell your mother that you’ve been fucking Sainz. The younger one. Of course. “I saw something on Twitter."
"Oh, I see. Well,” she clicks her tongue. “It's his dad who's coming. Weren’t you listening? And his mom. We invited them both. Your dad wants to take him to the club and network a bit and you know… I’m always down for making friends and Reyes seems like a lovely woman. She wasn’t there, but I’ve heard about her around. Even her name is super elegant. Isn’t it?” Once again, you hum, frowning, thinking about the movie where you just found yourself in. “So, please, come home.”
“Noted. So, this weekend?”
“Yes. Do you need Dad to pick you up tomorrow after work?”
You move in your seat. “I’m just so busy with work right now, mom. The new collection and—” She cleans her throat and you just nod to the empty room. “Okay. Yes, please, tell Dad to pick me up.”
Of course, the second you hang up you text Carlos. He’s probably busy, it’s Thursday so he’s doing interviews or something, and, as you expected, he doesn’t reply to your text right away. Despite everything, he doesn’t take too long.
Not surprisingly, he’s very nonchalant about it all.
hot wheels guy: just tell them we know each other, no big deal hot wheels guy: and we’ll tell them more when i’m back
But, yeah… You can’t help but frown looking at the phone. He’s golfed with your dad, met your mom, met again with your dad and he’s not even feeling weird about it all?
you: hm? no? hot wheels guy: why not? you: you went golfing with my dad!!! hot wheels guy: and? hot wheels guy: how would i guess he was your dad? you: how many Y/LN do you think there are in milan? you: he told you he’s from milan!! there are not a lot of us in here hot wheels guy: do you have any idea of how many people i meet every weekend? you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: stop being a brat you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: i don’t see a problem in golfing with your dad hot wheels guy: is that supposed to be weird? you: YES !!!! hot wheels guy: stop being dramatic hot wheels guy: if they say anything, tell them you know me hot wheels guy: if they don’t, don’t you: they will hot wheels guy: so you know what to do
Friday’s dinner went exceptionally well, with conversations flowing effortlessly between food and wine, despite the inevitable sports-centric discussions that seemed to dominate the evening. Your brothers were beyond ecstatic to have Carlos Sr. as a guest in their home. They'd had their fair share of famous athletes sitting at the family table, but never had they been as excited as they were when Carlos Sr. entered the house. As a result, you found yourself somewhat on the sidelines, listening more than speaking throughout the meal.
And you were grateful for that.
The same didn’t happen on Saturday. Your dad took the morning to showcase some of your work and discuss your future prospects in the fashion industry with both Carlos and Reyes. In what you think was a gesture of gratefulness, Reyes displayed a lot of interest in your little atelier, located by the pool, in what used to be a shed for the gardener. So, you spent the morning around there, talking with them about fashion and business, and then joined them for lunch in one of your dad’s favourite restaurants.
Let's be fair, you have an extraordinary way with words and a charm that makes your mother proud. It was easy for you. By the time dinner came, you were already adored by the Sainzes. Without making an effort, you found yourself talking about art and travel, and letting Sainz Sr. explain to you the magic and the challenges of Dakar.
However, it isn’t until the next morning that you find yourself alone with him.
You both sat down for breakfast on the patio, and he’s now engrossed in reading the newspaper, while you’re drinking your cappuccino and doing your best to ignore the fact that the man sitting in front of you is, in essence, your… fuckbuddy’s dad.
There’s the usual “good morning” and the “hope you got some rest”, to which the guest always has some lovely comment to say about the bed, or the room, or the house in general. It’s an amazing guest house, you have to admit. And Sainz is no expectation. You exchange a couple of pleasantries and he’s back at reading the news, so you let your guard down.
Then, unexpectedly, Carlos Sr. turns his attention from the newspaper and directs it squarely at you. Grey eyebrows lifting at the same pace his eyes fill with a weird glint.
“I would love to introduce you to my son,” he says, and a faint frown tugs at your lips as words form in your throat, only to wither away unspoken. "I'm not implying anything," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, "just that I believe the two of you would get along well."
You respond hesitantly, "Oh, I know him."
"I know you know him," he laughs, and you realise that something might have gotten lost in translation because when he talks again he says, "But what I mean is that you should meet. I'll make sure to introduce you two next time we're all in town."
And well, you feel too embarrassed to correct him, so you just smile and mumble an “I can’t wait. Excuse me”, before getting up from the table and sprinting up to your room.
you: great news. your dad wants to introduce us you: what do i do?
He takes a couple of hours to text back.
hot wheels guy: why didn’t you tell him you know me already? you: i tried to!
The next time you’re all in town happens one week and a half from there, when Carlos is finally back in Italy after a few races and a couple of days in Madrid. And, because the universe is a pain in the ass, you’re swarmed with work to the point you’ve been falling asleep right after dinner, even before the time Carlos usually rings you up.
It’s a terrible schedule.
You’ve been waking up at 5 am to be by the seamstress at 7, to have some work ready to show at 9 am, between your mentor’s arrival at the atelier and the time he leaves for some meeting or brunch with models somewhere in Milan. Somehow, during that interval, he has time to break your work to pieces, destroying it (and destroying you in the process) with criticism. Critique leaves you on the verge of tears, and by the end of the day, you’re a mess—stressed, irritable and utterly exhausted. Not to mention the ever-present sexual frustration, with vivid dreams of a certain Spaniard leaving you hot and bothered in your sleep.
The perfect recipe for a restless night.
Apparently, Carlos got to Milan on Wednesday, because that night you woke up at midnight on your couch, a half-empty glass of wine by your side, your unfinished sketches scattered before you and three missed calls from Carlos, accompanied by a series of texts. Thursday, the same happened. The texts were nothing too dramatic, just variations of “u up?”, “cmon its 10 pm”, and “you can’t be asleep”.
On both days, in your half-sleep haze, you manage to reply as you shuffle your way to your bedroom something similar to “sory, talktomorrw”.
And then Friday arrives, and your calendar pings with the reminder that in one hour your dad will be picking you up for dinner. You’re sitting on your vanity and already dreading the day your dad decided to go to Montreal.
You’re not feeling it.
Firstly, you have to slather on a ton of make-up just to feel decent. Your dark circles are as pronounced as ever, you’re skin is pale and your acne is acting up, probably all due to the lack of sun, sleep, rest of any food that isn’t reheated pizza or store-bought noodles.
So, yes, the prospect of dinner and being introduced as Carlos’ whatever doesn’t exactly lift your spirits.
The anticipation gawns at you as you finish getting ready. You can’t shake the feeling of unease, a nagging doubt that you’re about to step into a situation that might be more than you signed up for. Carlos’ dad seems nice enough, and his mom absolutely adores you, but this is different, especially because his dad is expecting to introduce you and well… you’re way past that.
As you stare at your reflection, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't just about you. Your brothers are looking forward to meeting Carlos, and your dad seems genuinely excited about his friendship with his dad. So, you summon a smile, albeit a forced one, and decide to make the most of this evening, even if you're not entirely sure what to expect.
Yeah. Scratch that. The dinner is about you.
As you approach the restaurant, a different sense of anticipation washes over you. It feels like a scene from a movie where you're about to meet an arranged husband. The Sainz family stands by the door, engaged in lively conversation. Reyes waves at you when she sees you making your way to them.
Your eyes naturally gravitate toward Carlos. Firstly, because you kind of miss him. It’s been a while since you last saw him and there’s no point in looking for comfort somewhere else, so you are, let's say… slightly needy. And secondly, because he’s clad in a baby blue button-up and pristine white pants. A vision. You're only human, after all, with eyes and perhaps a few too many hormones.
In summary: You’re fucked. Dinner will be fun.
From your back and close to your ear, a whisper arises. “Be nice,” your mom says. As you turn to her, her lips are curling into a wide smile. “Carlos! Reyes! Such a delight to see you both again. And, Carlos,” she turns to the younger one, “it’s an absolute pleasure to finally see you in a more personal environment.”
You take a deep breath.
Your brothers, bursting with energy, practically race each other to get to Carlos, almost taking you down in the process. He skillfully engages them in conversation, a grin playing on his lips, until your mom intervenes.
"Now, now, boys. You'll have plenty of time to chat," she chuckles. Your mom swiftly moves your overeager brothers and offers an apologetic smile to Carlos. "Apologies, they're just excited.”
“No problem,” he says, in Italian, something he doesn’t do often when he’s alone with you. He claims he still needs to learn dirty talk in Italian. You love to teach him by whispering it into his ear. More than that, you love watching his face as he slowly grasps their meaning.
Your dad, then, approaches him for a way-too-manly handshake, but a warm smile reigns on his lips. “Carlos, great to see you again.”
“Thank you, sir. Likewise.”
In the meantime, you went to Reyes. She graced you with a compliment, a kiss on the cheek and the promise to visit your atelier in the near future. Then, it’s time for her husband, and you’re already wearing your best smile because that man is beaming as he’s watching you.
“My dear,” after two kisses on the cheeks, he slightly turns to Carlos. “So nice to see you again. Son,” he calls, and Carlos turns to you, his smile radiant, his eyes sparkling under the warm, ambient lights of the restaurant. “Let me introduce you to Y/N.”
"You're even more beautiful than my mom described," he remarks, his words catching you off guard. You manage to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, opting instead for a faint smile. “My dad has shared so much about you. Couldn’t wait to meet you.”
A surge of mixed emotions washes over you. On one hand, there's a twinge of frustration that he didn't tell his family about your connection, correcting your mistake and saving you from embarrassment. Yet, as his adoring gaze meets yours, it's hard not to be swept away by his warm compliments.
“Oh,” you murmur, feeling something shift inside you. Your own words surprise you, leaving you momentarily at a loss. "Thank you. Likewise."
Unknown to you, you echo almost exactly what Carlos had just said to your dad. The similarity draws a chuckle from Senior, who seems to find the exchange quite entertaining. Carlos chuckles as well and motions to the restaurant with his head.
“Should we?”
As the evening progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Carlos when you think no one is looking. You catch his eye occasionally, and he responds with subtle winks and sly smirks that send shivers down your spine. It's almost like a secret language only the two of you understand. He’s sitting in front of you, of course.
“Piccina,” your mom calls. “Why don’t you tell Carlos about your job?”
With a smile, you turned to face Carlos. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and you have to take a second before answering. He’s no stranger to your job. Not at all. Sometimes he even lands a helping hand, providing some foot massages while you’re working through tight deadlines and he doesn’t take “no” for an answer when he asks if he can come over.
So you simply say, “I’m a fashion designer.”
“Oh,” it’s the polite oh, not the filled-with-curiosity one. You know he’s about to say something stupid when his tongue peeks through his lips and the corner of his lips starts raising, moulding his mouth in a smirk. “So you just play dress-up for a living?”
Laughter bubbled up from one of your brothers, earning him a scolding look from your mom. They’re just nine, which makes them fifteen years younger than you. Fondly referred to as "an accident" by your parents, they were the light of your life, even if they were quite the whirlwind.
“And you, Carlos, you just play with cars on the weekends?” Carlos's eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked down, a chuckle escaping him. Sr. Carlos wore a pleased smile, and a delightful warmth settled in your belly.
"Some might find it hard to believe, but we do manage to squeeze in some actual work during the week," Carlos chimed in, earning a laugh from you. "Have you ever been to a race?”
“No, and I don’t intend to.”
"The boys are the true racing enthusiasts,” your dad chimes in. “The girls prefer to stay at home, or walk around when we travel for a Grand Prix.”
Turning to you, Carlos's eyes danced with mischief. You remembered a previous conversation where he'd tried to persuade you to attend the Italian Grand Prix, just a few weeks away. Wanting to stop him, because he’s so predictable that you just know what he’s about to say, you try to change the subject.
“Talking about races, are you playing on doing Dakar again next year, Signore?”
Carlos dismisses your question right away. "I think your perspective might change once you experience a Grand Prix firsthand.”
And this time, Carlos Sr. joins him. "Why not extend an invitation for them to visit the garage? I'm sure the kids will love the opportunity. And, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find it all exciting. You seem like a curious girl.”
Carlos beamed. "Consider this an invitation. I can't wait to have you all there.”
Your brothers practically have a collective stroke, their young minds struggling to process the idea of visiting Carlos in the garage. As for your dad, despite his time in the paddock, had never had the chance to visit the Ferrari garage, so, despite keeping his composure, you know how much it means to him—he’s undeniably the most fervent tifoso you'd ever known.
With a grateful smile, you spoke up. "That's incredibly kind of you. Thank you.”
Carlos leans comfortably against his Alfa Romeo parked in easy reach of your dad’s Audi. Your brothers are sleeping in the back seat, while your parents conclude their chat. They’re getting along well, which is weird but comforting to some degree.
You shoot Carlos a serious glance. “How much longer are you going to keep up with this little thing you started?”
“Me? May I remind you that you were the one who didn’t tell him we met?” You roll your eyes at his words and grab the door knob. “Wait. Don’t you see he’s trying to set us up?”
“And?”
“Play along. Let him have it.”
There's a moment of silent understanding, the shared secret between you adding an extra layer of intimacy. Despite it all, you crack a smile.
“You’re so childish.” You say. “You’ll be the one who’s gonna tell him.”
“I’ll tackle that when we get there,” Carlos assures. And slowly, a playful glint shines in his eyes. “Should I swing by your place on my way home?”
“No way. I have work tomorrow, a lot of work to do and I can’t afford to be tired to do it.”
He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You can stay at mine, then. And I could drive you to work. It’ll give you an extra thirty minutes of sleep.”
You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You don’t even know where I work.”
“Of course, I do,” he assures.
That’s new. “Well,” you take a deep breath and discreetly hand him over your apartment keys. “I won’t ring the bell because the old lady on my floor will listen and I think she’s spying on me. I’ll call when I’m there.”
As you're about to bid him goodnight, your dad's voice calls out from a distance, catching Carlos's attention. He waves warmly and flashes a friendly smile, which Carlos mimics.
“Golf on Sunday?” your dad asks.
Carlos's eyes light up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Can't wait!”
You can't help but interject, “Golfing with my dad, again? What the heck are you doing?”
Carlos grins. “Finding a golfing partner, since someone here,” he gestures playfully at you, “refuses to join me. And unfortunately, my dad isn't always around in Italy to tag along.”
You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Alright, Sainz. Nice to meet you. See you soon.”
He drives you to work and to your surprise, he actually knows where that is. How? You can’t tell. Apparently, he also remembers that you bring breakfast for your mentor on Saturdays because just before he drops you off, he offers to join you for a few minutes, just to pick up breakfast with you.
“Since you’ve got no time to eat with me, I’ll just tag along and annoy you for ten minutes more.”
You let him enter the coffee shop with you and he hovers on your back while you order two moccas and two brownies to go with it. Your mentor is not picky, and this Saturday breakfast tradition only started because you wanted to thank him for granting you a few hours from his weekend to help you with your designs. Technically, it’s not work, but it’s just as demanding.
You can feel Carlos’ breath against your hair, and the faint smell of his cologne, still hanging in his shirt from the previous night. This morning, the buttons are undone, and the sleeves are folded up. His hair is tousled and his beard is imperfect. Yet he’s the most handsome man around.
“First time picking up breakfast together,” he says as you’re walking towards the door. “Is this the equivalent to marriage in your dictionary?”
“Don’t make me regret all the past decisions I’ve made.”
“Hm,” he hums, tilting his head. “What could I possibly make you regret?”
“Simply the fact of accepting to be introduced to you,” You let an exaggerated sigh leave your lips. “I’m living the nightmare all over again.”
Just before leaving a kiss on your cheek, he whispers. “Didn’t sound like a nightmare when I made you come thrice last night, baby. But go off.” He then kisses you on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
Carlos is too busy that night, and your Sunday is reserved for a family gathering. By Monday, you're back to your routine of nodding off right after dinner, so by the time Tuesday arrives, you’re already missing him. Not him—just his body in your bed, the sensation of his thick lips sliding down your navel and the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, wrapped up in that beautiful deep Spanish accent of his. You know he’s driving next weekend, so you spend all Wednesday staring at your phone, trying to summon a text from him.
When it finally pings, around 5 pm, it’s from your dad.
papà: heading to squash in an hour. up for a game? papà: no use in saying no papà: you already missed two weeks you: 🙄🙄🙄 you: i’ll meet you there!
You were the one who introduced your dad to squash, and gradually, it evolved into a bonding activity for both of you. Words don't flow easily with him, and you’re not great at demonstrating feelings so it’s difficult to connect with your dad. On top of that, you moved out really early. Slowly squash became a great way to connect and have quality time with him, release some steam, and stay in shape.
“I’m surprised. You never mentioned that you play squash,” a voice chimes in from behind, and you can't help but let out a sigh when you turn around.
It's Carlos, donned in a stupidly tight turquoise shirt that perfectly hugs and draws the contour of his chest, and sporting the briefest shorts you've ever seen him wear. He smiles. He knows he looks hot.
“How could I?” You reply, trying to not showcase how weak your knees just turned. “We only met like… five days ago.”
Carlos chuckles. “You’re funny. Did I tell you that yet?”
“Hmmm. You haven’t had the chance, yet.”
Sainz Sr. approaches you both, moving at a leisurely pace, absorbed in his phone. When he looks up, his frown disappears and an adoring smile takes his lips. His hand rests on his son’s shoulder as he remarks, “Didn’t I tell you today would be a perfect day for a match?”
Carlos turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "You did. What a coincidence.”
"Indeed," you chime in. "May I challenge you, sir? My dad’s still on a call and I have no partner."
“Oh, Carlos can join you,” he suggests with a nod in Carlos’ direction. “I’ll wait for your dad. We have some matters to discuss. Carry on, you two.”
Of. Course.
As the two of you step onto the squash court, the competitive glint in Carlos' eyes is hard to miss. And the tension in the air is palpable, you feel it in your bones. But you take a deep breath and push it aside, focusing on the game ahead.
"Why the sudden cold shoulder?" Carlos inquires as you prepare to start.
You glance at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm getting radio silence from you—no calls, no texts. You're not picking up my calls, either. What’s going on?"
You roll your neck, trying to ease the tension. Yesterday you just collapsed onto your couch, once again. You were living in survival mode. And wouldn’t be there playing if it wasn't a long-standing tradition with your dad.
"Work's been keeping me busy," you shrug.
It's not entirely a lie. But it’s not totally true either.
Let’s see—you've been involved in this situationship for almost five months now, seeing each other sporadically, sometimes even daily, if Carlos is in Milan. Yet, it's all so casual. You can recall the day he mentioned introducing you to his parents, of course. As a matter of fact, that talk has been looping in your mind for the last few days, but… it was a joke. Right? Sure it was. Why would he want his parents to meet his... whatever?
You could have texted him earlier. You would have texted him a few weeks ago, before all this. You can’t quite figure out why you’re panicking and why you’re behaving like a rom-com character, but you are.
"Come on, that excuse won't stick with me."
“Too bad. Can we play?" You grip the racket, twirling it in your hands. You look back, at his dad sitting on the benches, watching you from afar. “Please?”
He lets out a sigh and nods. Finally, you think.
"Is this a date?" he asks, grabbing a ball from his shorts and meeting your gaze.
"No." You're firm, and once again, he frowns. "It's not. For one, you didn't invite me. We just happened to both be here. It's coincidental.” He laughs here, slightly tilting his head back. You both know it is not coincidental. “And two, that's not what we're doing."
He cracks a smile, almost teasing. "So, what are we not doing?"
"The dating thing. We're not dating."
"Aren't we?" He smirks, his tongue peeking out, licking his lips.
You shake your head. "Nope."
"Alright, cool. Just wanted to be clear on that," Carlos replies with a nonchalant shrug, though you detect a glimmer of amusement in his voice. He’s as annoying as he’s pretty.
The first serve is swift and precise. The sound of the ball hitting the wall reverberates through the court. You dive into the game, putting your all into each movement. It's a dance of strategy and agility. You’re exhausted, but you put on a fight, using banter as your weapon. On the outside, your parents are watching, and you can’t help but notice Sainz Sr. is thoroughly enjoying this.
Sweat starts to bead on your foreheads, but neither of you shows any sign of slowing down. He wants to win and well… you want to make him lose. As you play, you steal glances at Carlos, his concentration evident in the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes, in the curse words he whispers under his breath, ones that frustration draws from him. You’ve heard them before. Oh, God, you’ve heard so much worse. But it all combined? This is a side of him you haven't seen before, and it's exhilarating.
After a particularly intense rally, Carlos manages to secure a point with a deftly placed shot. He smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "You're not making this easy," he remarks.
You grin, determined. "Wouldn't want to go easy on you, now, would I?"
The court echoes with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the thud of the ball hitting the walls. Time seems to blur as you lose yourself in the rhythm of the game. He makes you laugh and shout insults in his direction, to which he laughs.
Finally, after a hard-fought match, Carlos clinches the victory. It's a close call, and you’re about to pass out. It’s a shitty mixture of disappointment and pride. Leaning against the wall of the court, you try toth catch your breath.
"You're pretty good at this," Carlos admits, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.
"Yeah, well, I have to stay in shape to keep up with you," you quip.
He chuckles, "Am I that demanding?"
"Am I that demanding?" You repeat, forcing a Spanish accent and a deep voice. He chuckles and stands up straight. "Did your dad tell you to come here today?"
"Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. Like I told you he would."
You can't help but chuckle at Carlos's words. "Well, he’s certainly enjoying playing cupid. But hey, fun game.”
Carlos nods a genuine smile on his face. "Yeah, it was. Finally got to see you outside the flat. It's quite weird to see you with clothes at this point."
"Oh, God, you're such a prick."
He laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Can I drop by later today?"
You glance toward your parents, who are engaged in a lively conversation, and then back at Carlos.
"No. Early morning tomorrow. And I still have work to finish today.” You’re not lying to him, you’re lying to yourself. Even when he’s looking at you with puppy eyes, you don’t go back with your words. Instead, you stand up straight and fix your hair. “Should I expect to coincidently meet you somewhere else in the next few days?"
You know the answer to that question. You know he’s going to be away for two weekends. And you kinda know he knows you know, because when he answers, there’s the faintest smile on his lips.
"I'll be off for two weeks. Hungary and Belgium.”
"Good luck at those, then.”
“Really appreciate it.”
Yeah, so…. That night, Carlos texted you. Not a casual “u up?”, but a “it was so fucking unfair to see you in that skirt and not being able to fuck you in it” and naturally you couldn’t help but to let out an exasperated groan and promptly respond with a “come over.” So, twenty minutes later you were being screwed against your kitchen counter.
And now you’re on the couch, his head buried between your legs, eating you up like a starved man. Yes. You need to be fit to keep up with this man’s stamina. He’s that demanding. But you can’t complain.
It’s been like this. A lot of pleasure. And then a lot of peace of mind.
Afterwards, he reclines on the chaise lounge, scrolling through TV channels, looking for something remotely bearable. You go get your sketch notebook and use his torso as a pillow. He watches tv and you work, until sleep creeps over you and you fall asleep in his arms.
Five months of this. You can’t put a label on it, but you can’t imagine living without it.
Carlos only wakes you up to take you to bed, and that night he sleeps over, sprawled across your bed like a starfish, leaving you clinging to him to not fall over. In the morning, you make out in bed, lazy and sleepy. He fucks you in the shower, and then he’s off again. He texts you when he's at the airport, and once more when he lands in whichever country he's racing in. Meanwhile, you carry on with your everyday life—a bit more mundane than being fuckbuddies with a Scuderia Ferrari driver but just as busy.
As it became regular, you exchange a few texts while he's away. It's become a ritual—complimenting him on how handsome he looks after his sessions, and him requesting a selfie so he can return the favour. He sends you snapshots of random things that made him think of you, and if truth be told, you do the same. You share selfies as you stroll by the Ferrari store in Milan and send him memes (which sometimes require a brief explanation). Without fail, he sends you a good morning and a good night, and whenever you're awake, you make sure to reply.
And life happens for those two weeks.
It’s boring. It’s dull. It’s ordinary.
And then on a Monday evening your bell rings and you can’t help but leave your apartment and wait for him on the landing, right in front of the elevator, not caring if your neighbour is watching through the peephole.
“Missed me?” he quips, already unburdening himself of his backpack as he steps out of the elevator. Sunglasses perched atop his head, skin kissed by the sun, eyes wide like the moon. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.
“Never,” you jest, but it's a flimsy façade, quickly shattered as you pull him close, urgency coursing through you.
Damn, you've missed him. You crave him.
And he craves you too. He's straightforward in showing it.
After you both shower, you settle on the couch. You ask him about why he had two races that weekend and he teases you because you finally demonstrate an interest in F1, and only then, after you’re insulting him and threatening to not go to Monza, he actually explains to you how a sprint weekend works, but he’s being so nerdy and so adorable and his eyes are sparkling so much that you just get back in his lap and ride him again, but this time slower, and more passionate, like you’re feeling something materialise inside you. And you come on his lap, and he kisses you slowly, and you tell him you actually missed him.
For dinner, you agree on sushi and night falls while you’re watching The Office for the only-God knows-how-many time, curled up in each other and drinking wine.
Apparently, there’s a mandatory period of vacations in F1 and unfortunately, it doesn’t match your own. So, Carlos is away with friends and family, in boats and islands in the Mediterranean, and you’re torn between Roma, Venice and Milan, assisting in campaign photoshoots.
Your days are long, exhausting and you’re tired and wishing you could be suntanning somewhere in Greece, but you’re sitting on a train, pushing small talk with your colleagues so you won’t fall asleep and drool over yourself.
Until a notification pops up on your phone, and you drop everything you’re saying because there’s a small chance that is a photo from Carlos, or some text, or just a reminder of his existence. You mentally slap yourself. When did you get that dependent?
But it’s just an email. And it’s from your mom.
You frown.
She doesn’t usually use email. Nor is interested in art galleries in Madrid.
You read through the details and you notice something interesting. The invitation has been forwarded from none other than Carlos Sainz Sr. And it makes you laugh. You take a screenshot that you send to Carlos.
you: so, your dad's moonlighting as an art promoter now? did you fire him? hot wheels guy: seems like it. he said he was going to invite you hot wheels guy: and no, i didn’t fire him primarily because he doesn’t work for me you: well it actually does sound interesting hot wheels guy: so you’re coming? you: perhaps hot wheels guy: it’s a good chance for you to meet my sisters you: don’t you have like a dog for me to meet, too? hot wheels guy: two, piñon and oil hot wheels guy: oli is a really jealous girl. i doubt she will like you you: looking forward to meet them. and your sisters too, of course hot wheels guy: and about me? you: i already met you twice. don’t need another introdution
One week later, you’re in Madrid. Sainz Sr. arrives home while you’re talking with Reyes in the kitchen, while she cooks gazpacho for lunch. Oli is in your lap, licking your cheek as your fingers get lost in the small white waves of her fur.
“Hope you get here easily. Did you take an Uber?” Sainz says right after gracing you with a small hug and two polite kisses on the cheeks. Before paying, he also leaves a pat on Oli’s head.
“Carlos picked me up at the airport, actually.”
A pleased smile creeps across Sainz Sr.'s face, like a child in a candy shop. He glances over at Carlos, who's lounging on the couch, a few meters from you.
“She’s a guest.” He points out. You didn’t even realise he was listening to your conversation. You wonder if he was listening to what you and Reyes were saying before. “I wouldn’t have let her take an Uber.”
“You’re getting along well,” the dad points out. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
Between the art and the hushed corridors of the gallery, you often find yourselves alone. A stolen kiss in the quiet garden, where the fragrance of blooming flowers mingles with the electric charge between you. And then another, amidst the art, when the room empties and you’re left in the silence of creativity, where the only beauty that matters is reflected in the depths of his eyes.
He holds your hand and listens to your explanations about art and strokes and colour theory. And he calls you a nerd. Of course, he does. And you laugh and look at each other, and kiss again, not caring if there’s someone around.
When you come back home, his sisters and parents are still in the living room, so you sit with them, still wearing your cocktail dress and Carlos still looking gorgeous in his tuxedo. You picked up churros on your way home, so you’re just basking in the serenity and the domesticity of it all. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter weaving through the air. You share stories, revealing snippets of your lives to his family, like they’re slowly becoming yours.
Ana. Blanca. Oli. Reyes. Carlos. And your Carlos, who looks at you with a warmth in his eyes that is capable of melting every cell of your body.
You can get used to this.
You only spend one night in Madrid. You sleep over at the Sainz’s—Reyes didn’t let you consider a hotel, so she prepared one of the guest rooms in advance. Surprisingly, it’s not the first time you and Carlos sleep under the same roof without having sex, but it’s the first time you do so in separate beds. And you feel restless. You lay in bed, your gaze fixed on the wall as if by sheer will, it will become transparent and grant you a view of him sleeping—the contours of his face softened in serenity, his lashes grazing his cheekbones.
According to Google, Autodromo Nazionale Monza is exactly 39 minutes away from your flat by car. Which isn’t a lot.
You’re not sure what to wear, or what’s exactly going to happen.
It’s Friday. It’s his birthday. He looks gorgeous in the photos that everyone is posting. You just need to get to the track, meet your parents and take your family to the garage. It’s as simple as that.
But you haven’t seen Carlos for more than a week, and the idea of finally seeing him is consuming you.
So you dump your worries in your wardrobe. You search for the few Ferrari pieces you have in your closet and you put out an outfit, and make-up and pretend you’re just going to an event you know nothing about. Because that’s almost the case.
Between the small crowd and the electric atmosphere and the midst of the symphony of roaring engines, you spot your parents and your brothers—their eyes wide with wonder. They’re donning Ferrari shirts and hats, each one with a different number on their clothes.
This blend of family and racing feels strangely comforting.
There’s a guy waiting for you by the entrance, with your passes. You follow him. He asks about the ride to the circuit, if it's your first time, and you can actually relieve some of the anticipation with that small talk. But you’re taking so long.
The corridor leading to the garages seems to stretch endlessly, each step an eternity.
"He's in the garage, preparing for the session. You'll have to be quick," the man informs you, but his words are mere background noise. All that matters is Carlos, and he's waiting. That's all you need.
Stepping into the garage, the noise amplifies. It's a chaotic dance of technicians and engineers, each absorbed in their tasks. You scan the frenetic scene, searching for him, but his absence is louder than the noise.
“Carlos must be arriving. Boys,” he drops to your brothers. “Want to see the car up close?”
Of course, they say yes, and they follow the man. Your dad tags along and your mother? Well, she’s apparently very interested in the sport, as well.
The first Sainz you see is Carlos’ cousin, to whom you’ve been not introduced yet, but who quickly recognizes you. You introduce yourself, and he chuckles and you say you’re “Carlos’ friend”. And then Sainz Sr. appears, with Carlos right beside him, talking to a tall skinny guy.
And God. He’s a vision in that damned racing suit.
Time seems to slow as he approaches, and when he turns to you, his eyes light up with a radiant smile. The world fades away.
“Happy birthday,” is all that occurs to you.
And a “thank you for being here,” is all that he can say before being dragged away to the screens.
This time it isn’t Reyes or Sainz Sr., but Carlos who invites your family for dinner. It's an offer you simply can't refuse, and even though your brothers are practically nodding off from fatigue, the moment they step inside the Hotel de la Ville, and notice where they are, exhaustion seems to magically dissipate.
The entire day was amazing, but you’ve barely had a chance to be near Carlos. So, as he finally takes his seat across from you, the desire to kiss him simmers just beneath your skin, burning you whole. He's clad in his signature red shirt, his unruly hair falling playfully over his forehead. And he’s wearing white jeans, which makes the colour of his tanned skin intensify.
Caught in the act of admiring him, you see him move his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and swiftly adjust your position in the chair, refocusing on your dads’ intense discussion about the latest football market moves.
“Piccina,” your mother chimes in. “You never told me about the Madrid trip. The gallery. Was it nice?”
You glance at your mother and then at the whole table. Carlos has that playful twinkle in his eyes, clearly anticipating to hear you stutter as you try to talk about the exhibition. Well, you did pay attention to the art, of course, but what remains in your mind is the way Carlos’ eyes always managed to drift to you, no matter which room you were in.
“It was beautiful, Mom,” you reply, offering her a warm smile. “I’ve already told Carlos how grateful I am for the invite.” At the head of the table, Sainz Sr. smiles at you, with a simple yet approving nod. “The other Carlos tagged along with me. He got to learn a lot about art. Right, junior?”
Carlos leans to you, propping his elbows on the table, a trace of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"I have to admit, you managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting."
Thankfully, Sainz Sr.'s hearty laughter momentarily steals everyone's attention, giving you a chance to regain your composure. Your cheeks are warm, and from the feeling of them, you know they’re red. You managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting. And he smiles, because he knows you badly you’re falling.
"Well, that's impressive,” your dad chimes.
And you're not sure if he's complimenting Carlos's smooth line or your ability to be a guide. So you ignore him and try to play it cool.
“So,” your mom continues, her hand resting on your arm, her curiosity fully piqued. "You two spent a good time together in Madrid?"
You share a subtle glance with Carlos before nodding. "Yes, we did. It was a great exhibition."
A brief hush falls over the table and you can’t help but feel like you’re under a microscope and everyone can see through you. Carlos’ gaze, steady and unwavering, is locked onto you, and you feel yourself softening, captured in his attention.
“Well,” Sainz Sr., who's been quietly observing, interjects with a warm smile. "It seems like you two have been getting along quite well."
Carlos chuckles and looks down, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his glass. You both exchange a quick look, a silent understanding passing between you.
It’s time.
"Actually," you start, "we've been getting along really, really well."
Reyes leans in. "Oh? Do tell."
“We’ve been…” You hesitate, glancing at Carlos for support.
He meets your gaze. “Dating,” he completes your sentence with a confident smile. “We’ve been dating for a while now. Six, seven-ish months?”
Sainz Sr.’s eyes light up, and then he furrows his brows, clearly processing the information. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch the gears turning in his mind.
“That’s before—way before I… introduced you.”
“In my defence,” you chime in. “I did try to tell you we’ve already met before. Blame your son. He’s the one who decided to play with you for so long.”
“Well, this is… wonderful news.” Sainz Sr. beams. You steak a glance at Carlos, knowing he’s definitely going to tease you about how genuinely pleased you looked after revealing the truth. “So, seven months, eh? Okay. When’s the wedding? And when do I get Carlos the 3rd?”
I had so much fun writing this one!!! I used every little break at work to write this. It's a bit different than what I usually write, so all feedback is appreciated. Thank you for the request! 🫶
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effwon · 1 year ago
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'cause i don't think that they'd understand || ln4 x reader (Part 1)
Summary: Lando just wants to walk down to the garage before the Miami race with you by his side. George and Carmen walked in together, Alex and Lily walked in together, so why can't you, as well? Despite your self-consciousness, you agree to walk hand-in-hand with him down to the garage right before the big race, but it's a much harder ask for you than anyone could ever realize.
Plus-size (she/her) Reader x Lando Norris
Warnings: Brief mentions of nausea/being sick, panic, reader is plus-sized and very down on herself about it, weight mentions, ect.
Characters: Lando Norris (your boyfriend) and feat Oscar Piastri as a last minute saving grace for you.
Rating: G, for now.
“I want you to walk down to the garage with me.”
You blink in surprise, Lando’s words are so sudden and so firm that it makes goosebumps raise on your skin. Walk to the garage with him? But that would mean…
“What? Why?” you ask, folding down the page in the book you’re reading, before placing it down softly on the table beside you. A slugging, churning feeling arises in your gut as you realize exactly what it is he’s asking of you. 
“What do you mean ‘why’? You’re my girlfriend, I want you to walk with me into the garage.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And, perhaps, for any other woman in this world it might just be.
But it isn’t for you. This is quite possibly one of the most difficult things he could ever ask you to do, and that alone makes you feel horrible. Lando deserves a normal girlfriend, who can react normally to very normal situations. Not someone who makes his life even more difficult than it already is.
You sigh heavily, knowing if you refuse you will just upset him. “I - are you sure you want to be seen with me? People will talk and they won’t be nice…” “Babe, we’ve had this conversation before. Just one walk down to the garage with me, that’s all I’m asking.”
You frown again, daring to look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t seem angry, but there’s a desperation in his eyes, something that tugs at your heartstrings. What Lando doesn’t realize is that the backlash won’t fall too heavily on him - but on you…?
Oh, the fans and the media will eat you up. Lando is dating a fat girl? That will decorate the tabloid headlines for days, perhaps even weeks or months. The thought alone makes you sick. But how can you say no to him when he’s so earnest, when he wants to show you off, regardless if you deserve it or not?
“Yeah, okay.” You finally reply, looking away from Lando and down to the floor. He notices this, however, and kneels down in front of you, grabbing one of your hands in both of his own. His hands are so warm and so immediately comforting, working to ease the rapid beat of your heart in your chest.
“It’ll be okay. I promise. And just think, you’ll finally be able to come see the garage and paddock!” His voice is so cheerful, so genuinely happy and excited for you to be there with him. It’s touching, to say the least, but you are loath to admit that your excitement level is not nearly on par with his. Not even slightly.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve wanted to see them for so long.” The lack of enthusiasm in your voice does dull the excitement in his eyes, but he holds steady. Admirable, really. A trait you wish you could share with him.
“It’s almost time. Why don’t you go ahead and get ready, and we can walk down in about an hour?”
An hour? Well - here’s hoping you can actually make yourself look even somewhat presentable in such a short amount of time.
“You’ll help me pick out my dress, right?” you ask.
The light immediately comes back to his eyes, and he beams at you with the very same smile that won your heart the night you met him.
“Of course! Fashion show time!”
~~
Lando ends up picking the teal colored sundress, something that suits your taste and simultaneously compliments some of your key features. It fits well, with no need for you to suck in your stomach to make it look nicer or more appealing, and hides some of your less than desirable attributes (the rolls, god, the rolls) with ease. 
You feel comfortable enough, with only a light amount of makeup on your face, and your feet are settled into white flats instead of the heels you had originally picked out. Lando liked them as well, but urged you to go for something more comfortable and carefree.
You genuinely do feel okay, but the bitter taste of anxiety still stirs the acid of your stomach as you think about the amount of eyes that will be on you and Lando in a few moments.
“Hey beautiful,” Lando says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. On instinct, you suck in your stomach to try and lessen the circumference of your belly. Lando tenses, but he doesn’t push the issue, keeping you nestled safely in his arms as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. “You just about ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” you reply softly, leaning only a portion of your weight back against him. He doesn’t let go for a few moments, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear. 
“I’m proud of you. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re only doing this for me, but I hope you can manage to enjoy it as well. You may not want the world to know you’re mine, but I do.” Lando explains, nipping at your ear with gentle teeth. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you cannot help but smile at his antics.
“Well, we’ll see what all the news sources are saying in the morning. You know for a fact my issue isn’t being seen with you, it’s you being seen with me.”
“Who cares what they say? How I feel about you is what matters, not what the public thinks about a relationship they know nothing about.” Lando’s voice is firm and leaves no room for argument - likely because this IS an argument the two of you have had time and time again. 
You open your mouth to respond, but Lando’s PR Agent gestures a bit frantically at you both and all of a sudden, Lando is no longer behind you but at your side, lacing your fingers together. 
“Deep breath, babe. It’s go time.”
Oh.
You take a deep breath and hold it in your lungs, fearful that if you breathe at all, you might mess this up entirely. Lando’s hand is warm and firm in your own, steady while your mentality feels anything but. There’s no time to prepare yourself for the walk - Lando is moving and on instinct, you move fluidly alongside him. Your heart is racing impossibly hard in your chest and somehow only gets faster as you step out onto the grass and the sun shines down upon you and Lando like a blinding spotlight.
You hear the clicking of cameras before you see the media snapping shots of you and Lando as you walk hand-in-hand towards the McLaren garage. You can already hear the shouts of fans at home, screaming about how Lando could possibly be dating someone so fat and unattractive when he’s literally a celebrity and could have anyone he wanted. You can see the offensive articles, wondering what’s gone wrong in Lando’s head to be dating someone so average and so unathletic when all of the other drivers are dating what could be (and in some cases ARE) models. 
So many eyes are on you both, and you still haven’t been able to take a breath just yet. You feel Lando’s hand squeeze yours, but you are unable to squeeze back. You just want to be at the garage and tucked back away from the eyes of the media so you can regain your bearings.
And then finally, after what feels like a marathon of a walk, you feel the grass turn to solid ground beneath your feet and the smells of the garage hit your senses like a brick wall. Everything slowly comes back into focus and you realize you’ve finally made it to the other side. Your gut is churning, but you let out the breath you have been holding since you took your first step out and it eases some of the bubbling tension in your chest.
Lando’s hand leaves yours fairly suddenly, but he immediately pops up in your line of sight, beaming at you like you’ve just handed him the sun, the moon, and all the stars. You swallow thickly, hoping to keep down the nausea that threatens you, and offer up a tight smile of your own.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks, pulling you in by your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You are still within sight of the media cameras and you hear a few clicking somewhere off to your right, which does little to help quell the nausea. 
“It was fine, yeah.” You say, and it’s incredible just how weak your own voice sounds. “Can we, uh - can we go someplace in the back for a minute? Away from the cameras?”
“Of course,” Lando says, and concern begins to blossom on his features. His eyebrows furrow, gaze focused solely on you as you still try your best to smile at him. “I have to get changed into my kit anyway.”
Lando’s hand is back in yours instantly, and he gently guides you through crew members and winding hallways until you’re far enough away from all of the commotion that you can barely hear it anymore. Your breath is shaky as you inhale, but the relief is almost immediate now that you are out of the public eye.
“Are you okay?” Lando asks after a few seconds of studying your face. “I’m sorry, that was too much, wasn’t it?”
“No, no, no.” you interrupt him, taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly. “It’s just a lot. I’m not used to these kinds of things, not like you are. And there were so many cameras…”
“You learn to ignore the cameras.” He says, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Try not to worry about them, they’re just an annoyance anyway. You’re here to watch me race, and I promise you the McLaren crew will take great care of you while you do.”
Your smile feels a bit more genuine now as the nerves begin to drift off. You know you’ll have cameras in your face likely the entire time Lando is racing, but knowing that you have the support of McLaren while you’re here helps a bit. Lando has been with these people for years now, you can only imagine they’ve grown quite close in that time. 
“I’m sure they will. I - uh - is there a bathroom back here somewhere?” You look around a bit frantically, overcome by the sudden intense nausea that hits you now that the worst of the nerves have tapered off. Sweat builds on your forehead and you begin to feel a bit clammy and lightheaded, but Lando either doesn’t notice, or you’ve managed to keep yourself steady enough as to not rouse suspicion. 
“Oh, yeah, I’ll take you there,” he says, looking around to gain his bearings. He circles his fingers around your wrist and leads you back towards the heart of the garage, but stops before you get to the more heavily trafficked areas. It’s a small, unassuming restroom meant for one person at a time, but it will do. “Here you are. I actually need to change, so I’ll come back for you once I’m set up, okay?”
“Sounds good.” You confirm, leaning in to kiss him when you see him do the same. He offers you a comforting smile and then takes off into the clamor of the garage to get himself ready for the race. You watch him weave through crowds of crew and media personnel, and once he’s no longer within your sight, you turn around and rush into the bathroom without a moment to spare.
The nausea is almost overpowering, and you can’t even make it to the toilet before you feel your stomach rolling. You grasp desperately at the vanity, emptying your nerves into the sink with a violent heave and a shudder. Panic is starting to claw its way up your throat now that you’ve been sick, and you grip the sides of the vanity so tightly that your knuckles turn white. The nausea, thankfully, goes away now that you’ve emptied your stomach into the sink, but a much worse feeling creeps up to take its place.
You reach forward with trembling hands and turn on the sink, cleaning out the mess you’ve just made. Thankfully, a few splashes of water around the sink (and a few swishes in your mouth) manage to clean out everything so there’s no evidence left of your struggle.
You back yourself against the wall now, feeling your heart beating faster all over again, and the sweat begins to feel cold on your forehead. Panic is no new sensation, but you can’t help but curse the timing of this attack. It makes sense - given the overstimulation and the nervousness you just fought your way through, but you had hoped deep in your heart that you would be able to handle this without a breakdown.
You could not have been more wrong.
You begin to take deep, shuddering breaths at far too rapid a pace. You know you have to get your breathing under control, or this will spiral until you’re pathetically hyperventilating alone in a McLaren bathroom. You rush forward to turn the water back on, hoping that splashing some on your face might help snap you out of it, when you hear the handle of the restroom door jiggle.
Your stomach lurches again when you realize in your haste, you forgot to lock the door.
“Yeah, mate. I’ll be back in a few.” You hear a familiar voice say, muffled slightly by the noise buzzing around the garage.
As soon as the person steps inside the restroom and your eyes meet, you feel like you could be sick again. It’s none other than Oscar Piastri, Lando’s teammate and friend at McLaren, and he’s staring at you with wide, concerned eyes.
“Hey,” he greets, and it’s so incredibly soft - as if he might be speaking to a cornered, wounded animal. “Hey, are you alright?”
You can’t reply to him just yet - your breathing is out of control and nausea is hitting you again from the depths of absolute hell. As if this day couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse, you WOULD have a mental breakdown in front of Lando’s teammate.
You simply stare back at him in shock, like he’s the most terrifying thing you could possibly see, and you finally manage to choke out a weak and pitiful, “No.”
You watch as Oscar gently locks the door behind you both - a blessing, really, to keep anyone else from walking in on you in such an embarrassing state. He keeps his expression neutral, only taking one step into the bathroom with his hands palm-up to show he means no harm.
“You need to breathe, okay? Think you can breathe with me?” Oscar asks, his voice echoing in the small space. He swallows thickly, another sound that’s easy to pick up in the confined space, but he patiently waits for you to respond.
“I don’t - I don’t know -” you reply, hands slapping against the wall as you try to find something to grip onto for balance. “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t we give it a try, at least?” Oscar tries again, looking far more concerned than you think he has any right to be. He hardly knows you, after all.
“I - I can -” but the words die on your lips as your legs give out beneath you. You fall to your knees on the tile floor and that’s when Oscar jumps quickly into action. You feel unfamiliar arms wrap around your shoulders, a cushion to keep your head from smashing against the floor, and the last thing you see are Oscar’s frightened eyes above you, the echo of your name frantically erupting from the back of his throat as your vision fades out.
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f1-mcmuffin · 2 months ago
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LANDO NORRIS MASTERLIST
Main masterlist
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★ angst | ❀ fluff | ♡ smut
────୨ৎ────
Series
The villain of F1 Lando Norris x Driver Reader ★ ❀ ♡
Spotlight & Slipstream Lando Norris x 5th member of BLACKPINK reader ★ ❀ ♡
────୨ৎ────
ONESHOTS (request please 🙏 )
Jealousy, Jealously Lando Norris x WAG reader ★❀ (requested)
context: Alexandra and Rebecca are jealous of the relationship you and Lando have
────୨ৎ────
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landorris · 1 year ago
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popular | lando norris x fem! reader
part two to this
fc; darianka sanchez
warnings; english is not my first language
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
your phone
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiatri and others
landonorris: italy off track 🇮🇹🍦
user1: he looks so happy
user2: oh to be rich
yourusername: wish you drowned tbh
landonorris: im a pretty good swimmer
yourusername: don’t lie mate
user3: not her calling him mate😭
user4: the ice cream he’s such a romantic
danielricciardo: you could’ve tagged me in the ice cream date
landonorris: you’re so annoying
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others
yourusername: italy is fun 🇮🇹🍦
user1: same emojis and everything they’re so sick
user2: the matching photos i love them
user3: she’s such a cutie
danielricciardo: wow another ice cream date?
yourusername: stfu daniel
user4: im loving the soft lunch era
landonorris: stai davvero bene in arancione
yourusername: not the google translate italian
landonorris: why are you mean
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your phone
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, aussiegrit and others
landonorris: me and the bad bitch i pulled from being funny
yourusername: you’re not that funny
landonorris: why are you with me then
yourusername: cuz youre hot and british
landonorris: fair enough
yourusername: i love you sm💞💞💞
landonorris: i love you to babe🧡🧡
user1: we knew it
user2: the hard launch 🤭
aussiegrit: take care of her norris
landonorris: i will sir
danielricciardo: i ate this fr
user3: mark and lando in the comments
user4: how did he bagged her?
landonorris: that’s all i wanted to know mate
view more comments
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others
yourusername: he was so hot i had to tie a bow on it
landonorris: delete this
yourusername: why?
landonorris: cause you’re dad will see it and he likes me
yourusername: my dad is not dumb he knows we’re not playing fights all night in the same room
landonorris: i love but pls delete
yourusername: love you too lan❤️
user1: she really said HARD launch
user2: ONG PARNEBTS
user3: i wonder how mark reacted to this post
danielricciardo: what about the children of this app
yourusername: if they’re children they shouldn’t have social medias 🤷🏽‍♀️
user4: this is so coquette
aussiegrit: you could’ve chosen better pics no?
yourusername: well it’s not my fault im like you❤️
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lando.jpg
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and others
lando.jpg: forever n always 💘
comments have been disabled
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aintnostappenme · 4 days ago
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MAX VERSTAPPEN ONE SHOT - 001
mv33 x driver! reader
AUTHOR NOTES:
hiii, this is my first fic on tumblr so pls be nice, if anything is up lmk so i can fix it thanks 🙏🙏 taking requests 😊
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You and Max had been teammates before, back in F3 days. But now it was different. Now you're in the big leagues. At Red-Bull Racing, there wasn't room for any mistakes. As a second seat driver, you would be replaced instantly with the next person in line for your spot.
Lucky for you, you pushed to the max; every single race. In your first race of the season, Australia, you managed to overtake Verstappen himself and make your way into P1, finishing the race on a complete high.
Max, frustrated with P2, refused to look at you in the cooldown room. During media? He swiftly avoided any questions that even attempted to compare the two of you. However he himself didn't make any attempt to hide the scowl on his face at the mention of your name at any point.
Media finishes, and the two of you walk side by side in silence back to the Red-Bull garage, neither one of you making small-talk in fear the other would explode; either of glee or of rage.
After a congratulations from the entire team. Christian gives you a hard pat on the back and leaves to grab his belongings before heading home, the engineers following suite. Before anyone is able to leave, Max storms over, his eyes concentrated on you. You had seen him having a conversation with Christian a few minutes ago - what had Christian said to him? Was it about you? You might be about to find out...
He stops directly in-front of you, refusing to meet your eyes as he looks into the distance behind you.
"My room. Now."
His voice was low, as to not draw attention to the interaction, as he quickly turns around and stomps towards his driver room.
You freeze, your brows furrow and you slowly approach his room, your breathing now much heavier than it was 10 seconds ago, as you bring your hand up to knock on his driver's room door.
It swings open, revealing a truly, mad, max. He grabs your wrist, pulling you into the room, before slamming the door behind you and throwing you onto his couch.
"Christian says he plans on keeping you. For a long time."
You smile slightly, looking at the floor sheepishly.
"Good."
At these words he slowly turns around, taking small steps moving towards you.
"You think you deserve to be here? You think you're a better driver than me?"
"Max, we've been driving together for years. I think we know where we stand driving-wise."
Her head fell to the side, her eyes rolling a little.
"What about off the track?"
"Huh?"
"Where do we stand, off the track?"
He comes even closer now, his knees now touching yours as he leans right over you.
"Max I-"
You're unable to finish your sentence before you feel hands suddenly on your neck, pulling you up from your seat and towards Max's face, before you feel lips crash onto yours. You barely have time to think before you're melting into his touch, your own hands finding their way to his sweat-lathered hair and tugging softly on tufts of it.
"God you're such a fucking good driver..."
His lips parted from yours to speak, before immediately going for your neck, leaving marks that were sure to stick out of your race-suit for weeks. His voice snapped you out of his trance, before your hands press against his chest, pushing him away.
"Max, what the hell are we doing?"
He hesitated, suddenly looking vulnerable under your questioning gaze.
"Red-Bull have finally found a driver that matches my ability to drive, and it really pisses me off."
Your brows once again knit together in confusion. He's pissed at you? So why was he-
"And it gets me so fucking hot."
He once again goes straight to your neck, nipping at your pressure points, causing you to moan in satisfaction.
After a good hour, the two of your are panting, your race-suits now long discarded on the floor. You look at Max as he stands up, casually changing into a T-Shirt and shorts, before giving you a tight smile and leaving you in his room, completely naked, left to make your way home alone wondering what the fuck just happened.
You quickly learned after a good few rounds of the season that you only got this treatment when you got a podium.
That being said, it causes you to work harder. You find yourself driving ruthlessly, risking penalties just to make it to P3 and get to experience max again.
In your first season in Formula 1, you had managed to rack up 16 podiums in 24 rounds, solidifying your seat at Red-Bull for a long time.
After making your way to your home in Monaco for the Winter break, you prop up in bed when you receive a text on your phone from Max.
"come over?"
That was all it took for her to slip into a hoodie and jeans and be at his place in 20 minutes.
But this time, nothing happened. Instead you spent the night talking, laughing, watching movies and cooking food.
For now, you didn't know what you were.
But you were happy.
And that was more than enough for you.
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ladymarvel27 · 11 months ago
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Overthinker | Carlos Sainz
Carlos Sainz x Reader
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Description: Your period is late.
f1 masterlist
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Your phone dings with a notification from your tracker app. Did you forget to input your period? You sighed in frustration. Period: 3 weeks late. You felt a multitude of emotions. Guilt, regret, uncertainty and fear. What will happen next? How will Carlos react to this information? Is he ready to be a father? Or are you prepared to be a mother? Your eyes landed on a shirtless Carlos in the kitchen, making hamburgers for both of you. Maybe you should discuss it with Carlos. UH! He is the one who got me pregnant!
A wave of thoughts swirled around your mind. It’s just a week late, maybe you’re thinking too much. But what if! What if you are?! What if you two are really going to-
“Mi reina?!” His voice interrupted your thoughts. “Where are you lost? I have brought you dinner.” (My queen?)
“Uh yes, sorry.” You prop your elbows and sit up straighter. “Here,” he put the hamburgers in front of you, “for us,” he smiles. For us, and our little one. You gently rub your lower belly and pick up a burger. He places a hand on your shoulder, “Are you fine?”
“Yes,” you take a bite of your burger, “why?”
“Is your stomach fine?”
You glance down, “Yep hun,” You look at your burger and take another big bite. He gently squeezes your shoulder and looks at you in the eyes, “really?” his big brown eyes staring into your soul.
“I haven’t got my period,” you finally got the courage to say. He retreats as he sighs, his eyes darting around.
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You lie against his bare chest and snuggle into his body. “How long?” He spoke.
“3 weeks late,” you reply.
Is she really pregnant? he thought. “This is late, right?” He asks.
“Yeah.” He huffs lightly. Silence fills in the room. Some thoughts run around in his mind. What will be the baby’s name? You thought. Camila? Sofia? Rita? Maria? And a lot of other names he could think of. But if it’s a boy? Felipe? Emiliano? These names didn’t sound right.
“If it’s a girl you will name her, I will suggest names if it’s a boy,” he spoke interrupting the silence. I narrow my eyes at him. "Nothing, just clearing things." I nod slowly.
“You’re overthinking,” he says as he lays back down, “It might be a cycle shift.” Your eyes dart around. I hope it’s just overthinking. You shift as you lay on his muscular arm. He grasps around your waist and pulls you closer to himself. You take a deep breath and lay on your chest, his steady heartbeat clear with the pin-drop silence in the room.
“We should have a bigger house to live with a child, isn’t it?” I nod slowly, “Yeah.” You snuggle closer to him as you slowly close your eyes, gently pressing your eyelids together. Carlos looked down at you, admiring your features for a while. A tranquility fills the room. Suddenly, you felt wet down under as your eyes shot open. You remove his arms around yours as you get up from the bed. “What happened?” He asked. “Nothing just-” “What?” You shook your head as you darted to the bathroom. He stayed there, confused, waiting for you. The ripping of some papers can be heard from the outside. After a few minutes, the bathroom door opened. “I got my period,” you take a sigh of relief and sit down next to him. “Are you getting any cramps?” I release my breath. “I just want to sleep in your arms.”
He nods as he envelopes you in his arms. “I already said you were overthinking.” You huff lightly as you nod. “Yeah.” You laid yourself on him, slowly closing your eyes, and drift into sleep.
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Taglist: @faithshouseofchaos
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