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emjayewrites · 10 days

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Paddock Princess (Lewis Hamilton/Monegasque Heiress!OC)(1/10)

SUMMARY: Before they were an item, they were enemies....

BASED ON: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Monegasque Heiress!OC Princess Diallo (faceclaim is Fanny Bourdette-Donon)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @omgsuperstarg @certifiedlesbianbaddie @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @motheroffae @hrlzy @sinflowersugar @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @xoscar03 @blveeeeee @everywherea11thetime @blckgrl-sunflower @whoreforjjk @blowmymbackout

A/N: Slight change, I have pre-testing for the 2022 season in Bahrain, not Barcelona. Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore [Please comment & reblog]

Chapter I: Fuck You & Your Team

The golden Bahraini sunset cast a warm, radiant glow over the Bahrain International Circuit as dry desert winds carried the intoxicating scents of burnt rubber and adrenaline-fueled dreams. Pre-season testing was in full swing, ushering in the start of the exhilarating 2022 Formula 1 season with a symphony of roaring engines and that undeniable thrill of new beginnings.

The sleek, powerful racecars sat lined up in a perfect zig-zag formation on the tarmac, their steel bodies gleaming under the sun as if posing for a photoshoot. The aerodynamic curves and immaculate finishes silently awaited the skilled drivers who would soon bring them roaring back to life.

Leaning against the pit wall with an aura of casual confidence was Princess Diallo, resplendent in a tailored jumpsuit that clung to her curvaceous frame. Her coily tresses were tamed into a sleek ponytail as she surveyed the paddock through eyes that glinted with both mischief and smoldering intensity.

Princess's piercing gaze roamed over the scene before her, briefly pausing to study the photographer arranging the drivers next to their cars for a promotional shoot. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at her full lips as she spotted the unmistakable figure of Lewis Hamilton, the celebrated British racing phenom.

Lewis strolled around the lined up cars, hands tucked behind his back as he studied each model, assessing the sleek new designs and mechanical upgrades with a discerning eye. Though his gaze was concealed behind mirrored sunglasses, Princess could sense his laser-sharp focus. His powerful presence commanded attention, an unmistakable aura of raw confidence and quiet strength.

As Lewis neared where Princess stood, she couldn't help but appreciate his striking appearance - the chiseled angles of his jawline, the lean musculature of his race suit-clad frame, the tall and powerfully built physique. An appreciative warmth bloomed low in her belly as her eyes raked over him.

"Princess," Lewis purred in greeting, her name rolling off his tongue like curling smoke. There was an edge of playful familiarity in his tone, coupled with the barest hint of challenge that she found utterly enthralling.

"Lewis," she replied, pitching her melodious voice into a tone of easy nonchalance despite the way her pulse kicked up a notch. Her Monégasque accent caressed the syllables as she met his veiled stare head-on.

The fiercely independent heiress whose presence at the circuit was as commanding as the cars themselves and Lewis couldn't help but take her in - round cheeks adorned with adorable dimples and almond-shaped brown eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief. Her body was a work of art, smooth and flawless in its terracotta complexion, accentuated with curves that could make any man weak in the knees.

The winter hiatus had done little to diffuse the sparks between them. If anything, the memory of their last heated encounter at the FIA Prize-Giving Gala only stoked the flames of their exhilarating rivalry. He had mistakenly flirted with her, and she had projected her anger at him, still upset about her father's recent meddling. The evening took a sharp turn when her father, who had just secured a major stake in the Alpine F1 team as well as half-ownership of luxury watchmaker IWC, introduced them later that night. What was once a dazzling event now left a bitter taste in her mouth, serving as a constant reminder of the divide between them that felt insurmountable.

The air seemed to crackle with an electric charge as Lewis closed the distance between them. Though his physical proximity should have put her on edge, Princess found herself drawn to him, a moth to the flame. She couldn't help being acutely aware of the IWC watch adorning his wrist - a reminder of her father's increasingly intersecting business interests with Lewis' own endorsements. It made their encounter feel all the more charged, weighted with professional consequences in addition to their personal rivalry.

"I see your father is making good on his investment," commented Lewis as he gestured to Alpine's car behind him.

Princess lifted her chin defiantly. "My father's money may have bought Alpine a fancy new car, but it still doesn't buy success on the track."

A sardonic smirk curved Lewis's lips as he slowly lowered his sunglasses, pinning Princess with a smoldering look from under the shadowed brim. "So the new engineer Alpine hired is the real star of the show, is that it?"

Lewis knew exactly which buttons to push to rile her up - that was his speciality after all, this delicious game of provocation and one-upmanship.

"Maybe," she countered silkily.

His gaze slowly raked over her jumpsuit-clad figure in a subtle once-over. "Let me guess...Gucci?"

"Chloe, actually." Princess felt a smug satisfaction that he didn't recognize the label. "I thought you were supposed to be a fashion icon?"

Leaning in until his smoldering whiskey-brown eyes filled her vision, Lewis chuckled deep in his throat - a low, thrilling sound. "Among other things. Though I suppose it's only fair that you try to keep up with me in some areas."

The arrogant comment immediately deflated Princess' brief sense of superiority, causing her to scoff loudly. "You did not just imply I need to keep up with you. If anything, you should be watching your back."

"Should I?" Lewis's voice dropped to a low, provocative rumble that sent sparks of heated awareness ricocheting through Princess's body. He took one deliberate step closer, firmly invading her personal space. "Because you know how I live for a challenge, Princess."

The combination of his darkly teasing words and sudden, overwhelming proximity made Princess's pulse kick up despite her best efforts. She could feel the scorching heat of his body mere inches from her own, the heady masculine scent of his skin surrounding her in a dizzying cloud. Rallying her composure, Princess tilted her chin and met his molten stare head-on, refusing to be flustered.

"Believe me, Lewis," she murmured, allowing just a hint of breathiness to color her tone. "Keeping you on your toes this season is just the start." Princess willed herself not to look away first from the simmering promise in those rich whiskey depths. She could drown in the banked embers of desire burning there if she wasn't careful. "By the time we're through, we plan to utterly decimate you and Mercedes."

A ghost of an infuriatingly smug smile curved Lewis's sensual lips at her bold declaration. "So Alpine thinks they finally have what it takes to run with the big dogs this year, huh?" He feigned an exaggerated look of surprise that made Princess's teeth grit together. "Those are some awfully big words for someone of your..." His eyes flickered overtly down to her petite frame, "...stature."

Arching one sculpted brow, she returned his mockery with pointed relish.

"Funny, that's rich coming from you...little man," she quipped, allowing her own stare to roam meaningfully over his 5'9" height in a shameless head-to-toe examination.

Lewis' dark eyes glittered with something that looked perilously close to respect? Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on her part. Still, she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch, as if fighting a smile.

Princess smirked inwardly - she was already getting under his skin.

He wet his lips slowly, his tongue darting out to moisten them as he continued to hold Princess' smoldering gaze. "I'm going to hold you to that, Princess," he murmured in a bedroom voice that had her stomach doing somersaults. "And when you fail to live up to that pretty trash talk...well, let's just say I'll enjoy making you eat those words. I like to do all the talking on the track."

"Alright everyone, let’s line up!" called the photographer, breaking the spell between Lewis and Princess. Lewis gave her a wink before stepping away to join the other drivers, and Princess couldn't tear her eyes away from his retreating form. His parting words echoed in her mind, simultaneously taunting and tantalizing.

Just who did he think he was, looking at her like that? Talking to her like that? As if she were the kind of woman who would swoon at a few heated glances and a bedroom voice?

Except part of her had swooned,even just a little. Against her better judgment, she found Lewis utterly magnetic when he dialed up the charm offensive. Those molten eyes, that self-assured swagger, the intoxicating mix of arrogance.

It was maddening, really, how effortlessly he could get under her skin. Just minutes ago, she'd been ready to claw his eyes out after that short jab. Princess shook her head minutely, appalled at herself. This heated rivalry with Lewis was proving to be more dangerous than she'd anticipated because she was uncomfortably attracted to her own nemesis.

But two could play at the game of casual flirtation and thinly veiled double entendres. Lewis may have issued the opening salvo, but Princess was never one to back down from a challenge.

Lewis' thoughts consumed him as he posed for pictures with his fellow drivers. He should’ve seen it coming, really. Their chemistry had been crackling with unresolved tension from the moment they laid eyes on each other again. Like a live wire, just waiting to detonate with the slightest provocation.

And Princess had well and truly provoked him.

Running a hand through his braids, Lewis exhaled a shaky breath. Who names their kid "Princess" and doesn't expect them to grow up to be an entitled arrogant brat? Certainly, her attitude and bold flirtations lived up to that pretentious moniker.

And yet, Lewis couldn't deny the thrilling attraction simmering within him. He prided himself on keeping his cool, on never allowing an attractive woman to rattle his composure so thoroughly, but Princess, she was operating on another level entirely.

Part of him recognized how utterly infuriating her behavior was - the sense of superiority, that practiced smile filled with blatant provocation. She didn't just get under his skin - she burrowed her way straight into his bloodstream, setting him alight in a way he hadn't experienced in years, maybe ever.

Who would’ve thought that a lil’ heiress would drive up this much drama?

The thrill of their rivalry felt wildly intoxicating, like chasing a contact high more addictive than any podium finish, but it was also incredibly dangerous territory.

He knew he had to tread carefully — Princess's father signed his checks as an ambassador for IWC watches, which meant playing fair with her was a non-negotiable, yet he could tell it would be a difficult tightrope to walk. Allowing himself to be drawn into Princess' games based on their little rivalry and a simple physical attraction could prove disastrous for his focus and drive this season.

Lewis had been looking forward to this Formula 1 season as a chance to reaffirm his greatness on the track. Now, he realized the real challenge - the one that would test the limits of his self-control and dedication - would be going head-to-head with the force of nature that was Princess Diallo.

He should leave her alone, focus all his energy on racing and tuning out the dizzying spiral of desire and competition she drew him into. Staying the course, keeping his eye on the prize of another championship, however, even as the logical side of his brain reasoned this out, Lewis knew it was already too late. Princess had gotten her claws into him, and as much as he tried to ignore her, he was powerless to resist rising to her delicious bait.

A slow, lopsided grin curved his lips as he straightened his posture. If Princess wanted to play, he was game.

After all, he thought with a mixture of trepidation and dark excitement, what was a lil’ game between rivals?

The gloves were off this season, in more ways than one. Lewis fully intended to give as good as he got from Princess - both on and off the track.

So, she wanted to up the ante? Challenge accepted.

The Bahrain Grand Prix paddock was a whirlwind of activity as the 2022 Formula One season officially kicked off. Mechanics hustled about making final adjustments, while drivers went through their pre-race rituals amid a cacophony of roaring engines and the excited murmurs of fans.

Lewis strode through the chaos, doing his best to retain his laser focus. He couldn't afford any distractions, any chinks in his renowned concentration.

Of course, the universe seemed determined to test his resolve in that regard. Because loitering by his team's garage, clad in artfully distressed denim and a slinky pink top that left little to the imagination, was his new personal siren, Princess.

Lewis took a deep breath, pushing any thoughts of Princess out of his mind and focusing on the race ahead. But as he approached the garage, she strolled over to him with a deliberate sway of her hips that almost made his heart skip a beat.

"G'morning," she purred as she got closer, openly ogling him with appreciation. "Ready for another exciting season?"

Lewis felt an unwelcome surge of attraction at her tone and the intense desire in her eyes. He couldn't decide whether to shut her down or pull her close and —

No.

He cut off that dangerous train of thought, squaring his shoulders.

"You're really testing the limits of that 'umbrella girl' role your father gave you, aren't you?" he said dryly, attempting to keep his voice steady.

Princess' ruby-red lips didn't twist into a contrite expression. Instead, they curved into a slow, wicked smile. She spoke in a low tone, her voice dropping an octave as she said, "Surely you have better jokes than the tired ‘poor little rich girl’ bit?" She raised an eyebrow and added, "And really...is this what I should expect from someone of your age? Old jokes for old men?"

Lewis arched an eyebrow, refusing to let her baiting get the best of him, as he willed his gaze not to drop below her clavicle. This little game she was playing, it was extremely unhelpful mere minutes before he needed to be 100% focused.

"What I think," he replied carefully, reining in his impulse to either silence her with his lips or snap a scathing retort, "is that you need to find someplace else to be well before the race starts."

"Oh, really?" Princess arched one sculpted brow, undeterred. "I'll be wherever I want to be," she said confidently. "And right now, I want to be here."

"I don't think you understand," he said, his tone hardening. "This is my career, my livelihood. And I don't have time right now to play your games. "

Princess tilted her head back, laughing lightly. "Oh Lewis, don't be so dramatic," she teased. "I'm just here to enjoy the race like everyone else. Can't a girl have a good time? Besides, I could’ve sworn that you promised to have me 'eat my words' yesterday? Trouble in paradise with you and Merc? Are you afraid that my team will one-up you for the Constructors' Championship?"

"Don’t get ahead of yourself now," Lewis said with an eye roll. "When the day comes of Alpine ever exceeding me and my team for a Constructors’ Championship is the day I retire."

"You promise?"

"Hell no," Lewis replied with a teasing smile. "I still have a few more racing years left."

Princess scoffed, crossing her arms. "You're just scared that Alpine has a chance this year," she said proudly.

Lewis couldn't resist the opportunity to prove her wrong. He leaned in close, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, "I promise you, Alpine will never be a threat to us."

Princess shivered at his words, feeling the heat of his breath against her skin. Her heart fluttered in response and she pushed away from him, trying to hide her reaction.

"You can't make promises like that," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I can and I will," Lewis replied confidently.

Princess bit her lip, torn between wanting to continue their verbal sparring and fleeing from the confusing feelings Lewis stirred inside her. Before she could make a decision, there was a loud announcement over the loudspeaker for all non-essential personnel to clear the track before the race began.

"Well," Princess said with a forced smile, "looks like we'll have to continue this conversation after we kick your team's ass on the track. I do love watching a grown man struggle..."

Lewis shook his head with an amused smile. "You really are relentless, aren’t you?"

"It’s a quality my father always admired." Turning on her heel, she tossed one last heated look over her shoulder, "Good luck, I guess."

"Good luck to you too," Lewis murmured to himself as he watched as she sauntered away, her hips swaying exaggeratedly as she disappeared into the crowd. He couldn't understand why this woman affected him so much, but he needed to focus on the race, not get caught up in some petty competition with her.

He could not let some spoiled rich girl shake his concentration, especially not during this season.

But fuck, did she have to move her hips like that? Wear that small-ass shirt?

Now instead of being focused on the race, he was more inclined to be buried deep between her legs.

This fuckin' lil' heiress, man, will be the death of me.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#paddock princess #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x oc

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visionofvoid · 1 year

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Messy Bed Sheets - PG10

Summary: “rule number four.”

Warnings: suggested and implied sex, implied female and male oral, implied p in v, protected sexW

Pairings: pierre gasly x oc

Word Count: 1205

PART TWO PART THREE

Before it began, they laid out some ground rules;

No soliciting the night before a race day, unless Pierre explicitly asks for it;

Pierre was in charge of making all the arrangements due to his busy schedule;

Pierre was to ignore all contact from Serena when it was her cycle, and finally;

Don’t fall in love

It seemed easy enough to follow.

Serena recalled matching with Pierre on Tinder, she remembered thinking it was just another crypto king traveling the world that enjoyed race cars but she never imagined he would actually be a racecar driver with millions of fans. Pierre enjoyed the fact that Serena never really cared for Pierre Gasly, but instead enjoyed the late night conversations and the hushed breaths and moans on expensive silk bedding in hotels all over the world. He knew he was going above and beyond, paying for her to travel across Europe for a night or two, but he didn’t mind if it meant an expensive dinner and night in with $1000 wine with a beautiful girl that wanted nothing more than to earn her degree and just live.

Pierre’s head rested on the soft pillows, his back slighting sitting up whilst he played aimlessly with Serena’s hair. The two both had a sweaty sheen on them, the bed sheets covering their naked bodies, though his chest was on full display. The past few months the two had explored all their fantasies, kinks and each other’s bodies. You could say they are quite in tune with one another on a more intimate level.

“Something on your mind?” Serena questioned, turning her head slightly to rest on her hand that lay flat on Pierre’s exposed chest. Usually Pierre would clean up after they just had sex and the two would cuddle all the way into the night until Serena had to get ready and head home the next day, however the atmosphere felt significantly different this time. Something had changed. Serena watched Pierre’s cheekbones harden slightly, knowing that he was having an internal battle with himself. “Pierre, you can tell me.” Her fingers moved slightly, the movement warming up Pierre internally.

“That was the last time.” He mumbled, looking everywhere but at Serena directly. He was always incredible at eye contact, something that Serena had only just started getting comfortable with. He saw from his peripheral the confusion on her face. This arrangement was good, and she genuinely cared. Just perhaps not in the way that Pierre wished for her to. “This, whatever this is, it ends tonight.” He reaffirmed, again keeping his gaze from Serena.

“Can you tell me why?” Serena questioned. She could tell he was avoiding her face so she resorted to pulling back from him, wanting to give him space and ensure he was comfortable. If he was calling off the arrangement, she could only think of a handful of reasons why. The main reason was that he met someone else. Serena always knew that this was strictly a friends with benefits situation and despite the feelings she had developed for him over time, she valued his friendship more than anything to ruin it by speaking up, plus the sex was amazing. How often did you get amazing sex and a man that genuinely cared about female pleasure?

“I just- this ends tonight.” Pierre sighed, finally looking at Serena, catching her eyes staring up at his. He recalled the first time he saw them staring up at him, filled with absolute ecstasy, rolling into the back of her head as he glanced up from his position near her core just months prior, before the arrangement began.

“Pierre, please. You can tell me anything.” Serena reassured, moving herself to match his position in the bed, one arm awkwardly nudging her way onto the pillow and the other holding onto the sheet to give her some discretion though it wasn’t like Pierre was a stranger to her naked body. Once again he refused to look at her, actually look at her and give his full undivided attention.

The silence lasted a few more minutes, the air growing colder as they both started to breathe a little normally. Serena decided to stop pestering Pierre, no matter how nosy she was and how much she wanted to try and convince Pierre that it was a safe space. He obviously didn’t want to talk and she wouldn’t push that. She pushed herself to the side of the bed, letting the sheet fall where she once lay. She swung her legs over the side of the plus mattress, bending down to pick up her unmatching bra and panties.

“What are you doing?” Pierre questioned as she put on her bra expertly, something he was always so fascinated by.

“I’ll go to sleep in the other room.” Serena grabbed her baggy shirt, throwing it over her chubby torso and turned to quickly look at him. “You said that was the last time. I’ll be gone in the morning.” The air was much different now. What was once a warm atmosphere with a hint of musk and champagne in the air was now cold and the scent of stale sex lingered. The atmosphere had changed between the two within minutes. Serena knew herself and knew that if she tried to convince Pierre to keep up with the arrangement that she would blurt out her feelings.

Pierre was lost for words. He wasn’t too sure how to go about it, about his feelings. He was certain that this was just sex and an obligation of talking with Serena. He was certain that he was also falling for Serena. He knew that if he kept up with the arrangements he would only be damaging his feelings more than anything else.

The bed was big enough to sleep the two of them, even with space in between so they didn’t have to touch one another, it would be like your own bed. Pierre wanted to protest, he wanted to argue with Serena and beg for her to come back, that he was just joking. But instead he pushed his feelings aside and watched as she gathered her phone and handbag. How was it that she looked absolutely gorgeous in just a baggy shirt? Her hair knotted as it pooled down the back of the shirt, the middle of the shirt getting caught between her bra and skin, her thighs peeking out from the hem. She was the epitome of beauty.

Serena opened the door leading into the conjoined room that Pierre always booked out of respect in case she wanted her own space and paused when she heard Pierre mumble. She stopped for a moment, her head turning slightly in the hopes he would repeat himself a little louder this time. When he finally did and her mind processed it, she was shocked. There was no way he could have known.

Pierre took the pause and then eventual disappearance into the other room as evidence enough that his feelings were one sided.

“Rule number four.”

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly smut #formula one smut #formula 1 fanfic #formula one facfic #formular one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smut

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