racetowrite - Tumblr blog

[racetowrite]

Collision

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Franco Colapinto x f!reader

Tags: you’re Charles Leclerc little sister, bantering between the Leclerc family, flirting, car sex, unprotected piv (wrap it up)

Word Count : 3.2 k

As you walked through the bustling paddock with your adorable Chihuahua in your arms, you were on your way to visit your brother Charles at the Ferrari garage. Lost in thought, you accidentally bumped into someone, causing both of you to stumble a bit.

You looked up from your Chihuahua, realizing you had accidentally collided with someone else. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the slightly disheveled appearance of the young man standing in front of you, his hair sticking up in different directions.

"I'm so sorry," you blurted out, immediately feeling guilty for bumping into him. "I wasn’t paying attention."

Franco, the Argentinean driver, shook himself back to reality and quickly composed himself. He flashed you a charming smile, his accent adding an extra layer of allure.

“No, no, no es nada, es culpa mia,” he reassured you, his voice smooth. (“No, no, no, it’s okay, it’s my fault.”)

You smiled back at him gently, your response in his native language catching him off guard. "No te preocupes, fue un accidente," you said, your tone light and friendly. ("Don’t worry, it was an accident.")

Franco raised an eyebrow, visibly taken aback by your flawless Spanish tone. He hadn’t expected you to speak his language, and it was clear from the surprised look in his eyes.

Franco's surprise quickly turned into an impressed smile as he looked at you. His voice took on a curious tone, a hint of respect in his words.

"I wasn't expecting you to speak Spanish," he admitted, a small chuckle escaping him. "Your accent is really good. Where did you learn?"

Before you had a chance to answer Franco's question, you were interrupted by the sound of your older brother, Charles, approaching. He greeted you with a big smile before turning to Franco and introducing you.

"Hey, my little sister," Charles said affectionately, slinging an arm around your shoulders. He looked at Franco and added, "You’ve met my sister, huh?"

Franco's gaze flickered between you and Charles, recognition dawning on his face. He knew exactly who you were now, the sister of Charles Leclerc, the star driver of Ferrari.

The realization made him straighten up slightly, a hint of respectful admiration flickering in his eyes. He extended his hand towards you, a polite smile on his lips.

"It’s nice to meet you, officially, I’m Franco," he said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

You took his hand, feeling the slight callouses on his fingers, evidence of the physical demands of him being a driver. His grip was firm, yet gentle, his touch leaving a subtle shiver down your spine.

Charles, observant as ever, glanced between you and Franco, catching the slight tension that seemed to linger in the air. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he decided to keep any comments to himself.

Charles gave you a light nudge with his shoulder, his smirk becoming more apparent as he noticed the interaction between you and Franco. "C'mon, let’s go," he said, his arm still wrapped around your shoulders.

You nodded, casting a quick glance back at Franco before walking alongside your brother towards the Ferrari garage.

You poked Charles and gave him a playful nudge, a small frown on your face. "Keep your smirk and jokes to yourself," you warned him. "Unless you'd prefer me being friendly with Carlos instead."

Charles chuckled, his smirk only growing wider at your retort. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it."

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders again, pulling you closer. "You know I’m just messing with you," he said, his voice light. "But in all seriousness, Franco is a good guy. And he can’t keep his eyes off of you, I’ll tell you that much."

You rolled your eyes slightly, trying to downplay the situation. "Relax, we just met today," you said to Charles. "You’re exaggerating. He’s probably just a friendly guy."

Charles looked at you with disbelief, his smirk never leaving his face. "Sure, sure," he replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. "A ‘friendly guy’ who couldn’t stop staring at you."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I saw the way he looked at you. Trust me, it wasn’t just ‘friendly’."

You gave him a light smack on the arm, amused by his sudden protectiveness. "Since when are you so protective of me?" you teased him.

Charles mock-winced, rubbing his arm where you had hit him. "Hey, can’t I look out for my little sister?" he replied, his smirk turning into a grin.

Charles looked at you seriously, a hint of brotherly protectiveness in his eyes. "Any F1 driver is off limits for you," he stated firmly.

He put a hand on your shoulder, looking you straight in the eye. "They're not the kind of guys you want to get involved with, I can tell you that much."

You rolled your eyes at his overprotective demeanor. "I’ve heard that before," you said, a hint of annoyance in your voice. "But I’m not a kid anymore, Charles."

Charles’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly as he looked at you with a mixture of concern and affection. "I know you’re not a kid anymore," he admitted, his voice softer now. "But I just don’t want you getting caught up in the drama and distractions that come with being involved with someone in the racing world."

"Some of these guys are notorious for not taking relationships seriously," he continued. "They’re too focused on their careers, on winning. They’ll just end up using you and leaving you hurt."

You chuckled, thinking about your oldest brother Lorenzo. "I already have Lorenzo acting so protective," you pointed out, a hint of exasperated amusement in your voice. "I don’t need you to join in too."

Charles chuckled as well, a small shrug of his shoulders. "Hey, it’s our job as your big brothers," he replied, a sly smile on his face. "We have to look out for you, even if it means driving off any potential suitors."

As if on cue, your oldest brother, Lorenzo, joined the conversation at that moment, a huge grin on his face. He put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his side.

"Ah, I see we’re discussing potential suitors for my little sister," he said, a touch of mock authority in his voice. "And any potential threat will have to get past me first, because I'll be the one killing them."

You couldn’t help but laugh at Lorenzo’s dramatic declaration. "You two are being so dramatic," you said, rolling your eyes in fond resignation. "Not every guy is going to be a threat, you know."

Charles put a hand on your head, ruffling your hair playfully. "We know," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But we just want to make sure we weed out any potential losers."

Lorenzo chuckled, joining in the banter. "Exactly," he agreed, a wry smile on his face. "We don’t want any losers stealing away our little sister. We have to keep her safe and sound, you know."

He ruffled your hair affectionately, just like Charles had done. "Can’t have any random guy thinking they can just waltz in and sweep you off your feet," he added, his voice now taking on a comically protective tone.

As you entered the Ferrari garage, you spotted Alexandra, Charles’s new girlfriend. She was standing with Rebecca Donaldson, Carlos’s girlfriend. She looked up as you approached, a warm smile on her face.

"Ah, you’ve finally arrived," she said, her voice cheerful. "I was wondering where you were."

"Hi, Alex!” you said cheerfully. "I'm so glad to see you."

You had immediately taken a liking to Alexandra from the moment Charles brought her home. She was kind, intelligent, and had an infectious sense of humor. It was easy to see why Charles was so smitten.

You chuckled and cast a sideways glance at your brothers. "Can you believe these two?" you said to Alexandra, shaking your head in mock despair. "They're threatening to kill any potential boyfriends I might have."

Charles let out a mock huff, his arms crossed over his chest. "Hey, we’re just looking out for you," he protested, a hint of mock defensiveness in his voice.

You laughed and turned to Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Ah, tu es si énervant," you said in French, playfully teasing him. ("You’re so annoying.")

Lorenzo snickered, amused by your response in your native language. Charles rolled his eyes, a small smirk on his lips as he replied in French as well. "Je suis ton frère," he said, his voice teasing. ("I’m your brother.")

"Mais, tu peux être tellement insupportable parfois," you quipped back, your tone light and playful. ("But you can be so unbearable sometimes.")

Charles chuckled, feigning offence. "Comment oses-tu!" he exclaimed, his hand over his heart in mock shock. ("How dare you!")

You laughed, enjoying the banter with your brother. "C’est la vérité!" you said, feigning innocence. ("It’s the truth!")

Lorenzo and Alexandra watched the exchange between you and Charles, both of them unable to suppress a laugh at the playful banter.

Lorenzo chuckled, shaking his head. "Still arguing like little kids, huh?" he teased.

Charles shot you a mock-hurt look, his lips twitching into a smile. "Hey, I’m older than her. I’m supposed to be the grown-up here," he jokingly protested.

You rolled your eyes at his claim, a smirk on your face. "And yet, you’re the one acting like a child," you retorted, poking him in the ribs.

Charles laughed at your comment, pretending to shield himself from further attacks. "Alright, alright, I’ll go prepare for qualifying before you continue your assault," he said, jokingly holding up his hands in surrender.

After the successful qualifying session, where Charles placed p1, you were now back in your hotel room for the night. It was late, nearing midnight, and you were scrolling through your phone when you noticed a new Instagram request.

Upon checking the name, your eyes widened slightly as you realized who it was from: Franco Colapinto.

You were immediately intrigued by the request, as you weren't particularly active on social media. You only had around 200 followers and couldn’t understand why Franco would want to follow you, but you accepted the request.

As you accepted the Instagram request, the memory of your earlier encounter with Franco flashed through your mind. You remembered how you had bumped into him in the paddock.

The aftermath of the incident had been less pleasant, though. Charles had teased you mercilessly about Franco's intense gaze and how he hadn't been able to take his eyes off you.

Charles had relentlessly teased you about the incident, poking fun at the intense gaze Franco had fixed on you and mocking how he seemed unable to keep his eyes off of you.

The Instagram message notification popped up on your screen, the message coming from Franco. Curiously, you opened the message, which read:

"Hola! I just realized we never got a chance to finish our conversation about language today. Where did you learn Spanish?"

A second text pops up.

"Oh, and I wanted to apologize for bumping into you earlier. I hope I didn't end up bruising you or anything."

You quickly typed out a response, not wanting him to shoulder the blame for the collision.

"Hi! No worries about the bump, it was my fault too for not watching where I was going."

You then added, "As for the Spanish, I’m attending a Spanish university. That's how I became fluent."

"Ah, so it's good to know I can always catch a glimpse of you in Spain. In which city are you attending university?" Franco teased.

You quickly replied to Franco's message, a small smile playing on your lips as you typed out your response.

"I’m actually attending university in Madrid," you wrote. "So yes, you can catch a glimpse of me but only if you're lucky enough.”

Franco's response instantly came through, his playful banter taking a more direct approach.

"In that case, I might just have to take my chances and find you after the race tomorrow," he wrote. "How about I take you out, hermosa?"

Your fingers hovered over the keys as you contemplated your response. Part of you was hesitant, unsure whether getting involved with him was a smart idea. But another part of you was intrigued by the prospect of a date with Franco.

You finally typed out your answer, nerves dancing in your stomach.

"Sure, why not? I’ll be there after the race tomorrow.“

After the race had ended, you met up with Franco at a quiet, secluded restaurant. The atmosphere was elegant and intimate, the soft lighting creating a cozy ambiance.

As the night progressed, the conversation between you was easy and enjoyable. The drinks flowed, and the chemistry between you and Franco grew more intense with each passing moment.

Soon, the tension between you reached its breaking point. With a sudden surge of desire, Franco leaned in and kissed you, his lips meeting yours in a hungry, passionate embrace.

You shift closer to him, your breaths mingling in the space between you. The room around you seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you.

With a hint of Spanish, you whisper, "En el coche, cariño. Necesitamos más privacidad." ("In the car, darling. We need more privacy.")

The sultry words roll off your tongue, the Spanish language adding an extra layer of intimacy to the already charged moment. You see the effect they have on Franco, his eyes darkening with desire and his breathing becoming more ragged.

He responds with a nod, his hand moving to intertwine with yours. "Vamos," he says, his voice hoarse with longing. "No puedo esperar más." ("Let’s go. I can’t wait any longer.")

The words send a shiver down your spine, his impatience and desire fueling the fire burning within you. You get up from your seat, leaving the remainder of your drinks behind as you follow him to the car.

The night air is cool as you step outside, but the heat between you and Franco is undeniable. You can sense the tension in his body as he opens the car door for you, and you slide into the passenger seat, your heart pounding with anticipation.

“Hermosa” he grinned hungrily against ur lips as he held your face gently “I have been wanting this since yesterday ” he mumbled as he slipped his hand down your dress and slowly slipped your thong aside, gently fingering your wetness.

“Perfect” he groaned as he slipped in another finger, his thumb massaging your nub as he devoured your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily.

He groaned as he slipped his fingers out from your core, bringing them up to your lips.

You eagerly parted your lips and sucked his fingers clean, your eyes locked onto his as you slowly sucked each one, tasting your own sweetness on his fingers. He grinned wickedly, his pupils dilating with desire.

"Good girl" he praised, his voice low and hoarse.

“Oh god” he groaned as he quickly unzipped his pants, freeing his hardened length “Come here” he said gruffly, lifting you up onto him, and guiding his tip to your opening.

He slowly lowered you onto him, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he slowly stretched you. You gasped at the slight discomfort, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Look at me" he whispered, his voice strained.

You looked down and saw his length slowly disappearing into you, your pussy stretching to accommodate him. He grinned wickedly, his hips bucking slightly as he slid the rest of the way in. "Oh dios mio." he groaned, his head falling back against the seat. (“Oh my god.”)

“Te sientes tan bien” he grinned as he slowly lifted you up and down onto his length, his eyes glued to where you were joined His pace quickening, he began to bounce you on his lap, his hips lifting to meet ur descent. (“You feel so good.”)

Gripping your hips tighter, he began to pound into you, his hips pistoning upwards in quick hard thrusts. “Oh god” he groaned, his pace quickening. He was in his element, pounding you like he drove on the track, determined, fast and hard.

The car rocked gently as he continued to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the interior. He reached down and grabbed your leg, hooking it over his shoulder for a better angle, his thrusts becoming even harder and deeper.

With his leg over his shoulder, he was able to drive into you at a brutal angle, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. “Fuck, te adoro” he chanted, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pounded into you, the car swerving slightly on the road. (“I adore you.”)

One of his hands snaked up and grabbed your breast, squeezing it tightly as he continued to drive into you. “You’re so wet, mierda” he groaned, his hips moving at a frantic pace now, the car shaking with the force of his thrusts.

He suddenly reached down and grabbed your other leg, hooking it over his shoulder as well, completely impaling you on his cock. “Oh god” you gasped, your hands gripping his arms tightly as he held you in place and began to pound into you even harder.

The car was now shaking violently as he drove into you, the windows fogging up with the heat of your bodies. He leaned down and bit your nipple, his teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh as he continued to pound into you. "Come for me, bebita." he demanded, his voice harsh.

“Oh god” you whimpered as he bit down on your breast, your insides tightening around him as he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Franco” you moaned out, your head thrashing from side to side as he bit down on your breast.

He ignored your pleas for mercy, his arms like iron as he held your legs over his shoulders and continued to pound into you, his hips moving like a jackhammer. "Look at me" he growled, his face contorted with passion.

You looked down and saw his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, the sight of him fucking you making you moan louder. He grinned wickedly, his hips moving even faster as he watched himself disappear inside you. "I'm gonna fill this pussy up"

He grunted loudly, his face burying into your neck as he began to thrust even faster, his breathing growing more and more ragged. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and let out a guttural roar, his body convulsing as he spilled into you.

He stayed buried inside you, his cock twitching as he emptied his load into your spasming pussy. After a few moments, he finally pulled out, his thick cum dripping from your pussy onto the passenger seat. "Fuck" he panted, looking at the mess he made.

“I’m glad I bumped into you.”

[racetowrite]

Rushed

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Lewis Hamilton x f!reader

Tags: rough sex, unprotected piv, dom!Lewis, Toto’s Wolff daughter, mirror sex

Word Count : 1.6k

You arrived at the track with your father, Toto Wolff, for the free practice session, even though you dreaded seeing Lewis again. It had been over a year since that night at Silverstone, and you had avoided him ever since, thinking it would be awkward or he would act cold towards you.

As you entered the busy garage, Toto moved across to speak with the lead engineer, leaving you momentarily alone. Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you, and Lewis appeared, a small smile on his face. He leaned in, his voice low, a hint of excitement in his eyes.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute? Privately."

You nodded, unable to hide the slight tremor in your voice. "Yeah, sure. What’s up?"

"Let's go to my driver room," Lewis said, gesturing towards a nearby door. You followed him as he led the way, the air charged with anticipation.

Once inside, the door closed behind you, creating an intimate, secluded space. Lewis turned to face you, his eyes locked on yours.

"Can I ask you something?" Lewis began, his expression serious. "Last year, at the Silverstone after party... after we kissed, you left suddenly. Why did you leave? Did I make you uncomfortable or something?"

His tone was laced with guilt and concern, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. You could see that this question had been weighing on his mind for some time.

"I... I thought you were drunk," you confess, your voice quiet. "I didn't want to make it awkward or cause you any problems with my dad. So, I left."

You look up at him, meeting his gaze, a pang of guilt and regret tinging your words. "I'm sorry for just leaving like that without saying anything."

Lewis’s lips purse together in a tight line as he absorbs your explanation. The guilt in your voice is evident, and he sighs heavily.

"I wasn't drunk," he replies, his tone firm. "I knew exactly what I was doing when I kissed you. It wasn't just a drunken mistake."

As Lewis's words sank in, the realization of what he'd just said hit you like a ton of bricks. A flush of warmth spread across your cheeks, coloring them a rosy pink as you met his gaze, speechless.

The implications of his confession hung heavy in the air, and your heart thumped against your chest like a drum.

Lewis looked at you, his gaze intense. "I've thought about that kiss a lot. More than I should have. And I've come to realize that I want more."

Your eyes widened in shock, your jaw slightly agape as you stared at Lewis. "W-What do you mean... you want more?" you stammered, taken aback by his admission. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of surprise, desire, and hesitation swirling within you.

Lewis stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently tilt your chin up so you're forced to look at him. "I mean, I want to kiss you again," he said, his voice low and husky. "I want to feel your body pressed against mine, to be able to touch you whenever I please.”

"For the past year, every time I looked at another woman, I imagined it was you," Lewis confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your face, your body... I couldn't get you out of my mind."

"I would close my eyes and picture you standing before me, your lips parted, your breath coming in shallow gasps..." His hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip. "I would imagine kissing you, tasting you..."

"What about my father?" you managed to stutter out, your mind still reeling from his confession. "He would kill me if he found out and you would have problems-“

“Your father is not an issue anymore," Lewis said, his expression growing more intense. "I've decided to switch teams next year. Ferrari has offered me a deal I can't refuse. I don't care about the consequences, I just…I need you..”

Lewis's other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I can't keep denying what I feel for you. I want you, and I don't care who knows. Your dad, the tabloids, the whole world can know. I. Want. You."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your lips. "Can I kiss you now?" His voice was ragged, barely contained desire evident in his tone. "Can I show you just how much I've thought about this?"

Slowly, you nod, your eyes locked with his. The air between you two is thick with anticipation as Lewis leans in, his lips finally pressing against yours. The kiss is soft, gentle at first, but it quickly deepens, becoming more passionate as he explores your mouth with his tongue.

Lewis's hands roam your body possessively as his tongue dances with yours. He grips your ass, pulling you even closer as he grinds his hips against yours, the hard length in his pants evidence of his arousal. You moan into his mouth, your hands clinging to his shoulders for support.

He breaks the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. His hands are everywhere, groping your ass, squeezing your breasts through your shirt. "I need to be inside you," he growls, his breath hot against your skin. "Now."

You gasp at the sudden invasion, your nails digging into his shoulders. He starts to move, lifting you up and down on his cock with ease. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he pounds into you relentlessly. "You feel so fucking good,”

He leans back against the wall, balancing you both as he continues to thrust into you. You can feel his muscles bunched beneath your fingertips as you hang on for dear life. Your head falls back, exposing your neck to his eager lips. He sucks and bites at your skin, marking you as his.

You gasp out, "Lewis, I've only thought about you for the last year..." Your voice is breathless, your body tightening around him with each thrust. "Every time I touched myself thrust i’ve only seen your face thrust fuck thrust”

His grip on your waist tightens, his pace quickening as your words fuel his desire. "You touched yourself thinking of me?" he growls, his voice laced with possessiveness.

"Did you make yourself come, baby? Did you scream my name as you came?"

"Yes.”

The visual of you pleasuring yourself, his name on your lips, is almost enough to send him over the edge. He grinds his hips into yours, hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you. "I want to see you do it," he says, his voice hoarse with need.

He sets you down on your feet, then spins you around to face the mirror. He pushes your hands to the glass, spreading your fingers apart. "Watch yourself, baby," he commands, stepping up behind you. "Watch how I fuck you and then I want you to touch yourself."

He enters you from behind, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror. The sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy is incredibly erotic. He reaches around to play with your clit, his fingers moving in time with his thrusts. "Touch your breasts," he orders, his voice ragged.

You comply, bringing your hands up to squeeze and play with your own breasts as he pounds into you from behind. The combination of his touch, your own touch, and the visual of the two of you in the mirror is overwhelming. You can feel the pressure building, coiling low in your belly.

"Lewis... it's... it's too much," you moan, your head falling forward. He grips your hair, pulling your head back up so you have to keep watching. "No, look at us. Look at what I'm doing to you. I want to feel you come apart, baby."

His words push you over the edge. You shatter, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over you. He grunts, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he finds his own release, his hips jerking against you as he fills you with cum.

As your bodies still, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you back against his chest. "You're mine now," he murmurs, nuzzling your neck. "No more touching yourself without me. From now on, whenever you need release, it's me who'll give it to you."

He spins you around, pressing you back against the mirror. His expression is serious, his gaze locked with yours. "Say it," he demands. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours, only yours.”

The words had barely left your lips when a sudden knock at the door startled you both. "Lewis, you're gonna be late for practice!" a voice shouted from the other side. Lewis cursed under his breath, burying his face in your neck. "One moment!" he called out, his voice strained.

to be continued….

[racetowrite]

Anything that involves KINKY LANDO. Like feral. Where’s he’s just a feral kinky little shit.😭

The boiling point

Support a disabled creator | Master list

Pairing : Lando Norris x f!reader

Tags : smut with no plot, afab!fem!reader, spanking, oral!fem!receiving, unprotected piv, needy Lando

Word Count : 1.1k

Lando Norris, the super rich Formula 1 driver, was practically obsessed with you. He adored you, worshiping the ground you walked on. But lately, his desires had taken on a more intense and aggressive edge. He was constantly trying to initiate sexual encounters, his need for you growing more intense by the day.

Despite his advances, you had been holding back, always putting off the moment for one reason or another. And it was driving Lando crazy.

Lando had reached the boiling point. He couldn't take it anymore. One night, as you slept peacefully, he crept into the bedroom and approached your shared bed. With a mixture of desire and frustration, he slowly lifted the hem of your nightgown, revealing your lacy panties beneath. His breath hitched in his chest as he saw the curves of your body, clad in the thin fabric.

His heart raced as he gazed at your soaking wet panties. Without hesitation, he reached out and slowly pulled them down your legs, revealing your bare pussy to him. He let out a low groan as he took in the sight, his rock-hard cock straining against his pajama pants.

He couldn't wait any longer. He had to have you, right now. Without a sound, he climbed onto the bed and positioned himself between your legs. His hands trembled as he reached out to spread your pussy lips apart, exposing your glistening entrance to his hungry gaze.

As Lando settled between your thighs, his warm breath against your core roused you from your sleep. You stirred, mumbling incoherently as you felt his hands part your legs wider. The first touch of his tongue against your wet folds jolted you awake, a soft moan escaping your lips.

He latched onto your swollen bud, sucking it into his mouth while his tongue flicked over it. He slipped a finger inside you, pumping it in and out as he feasted on your cunt.

Despite his relentless efforts, you remained on the brink of orgasm, your body tense and quivering. Finally, you stirred, your voice husky with sleep as you spoke.

"Lando, if you woke me up, you better make me cum, hard."

As your groggy voice filled the dimly lit room, Lando paused, looking up at you with a grin. His face was glistening with your juices, his eyes wild with desire. He was clearly enjoying himself too much to stop.

He eagerly returned to his task, redoubling his efforts to make you come undone. His fingers pumped in and out of you faster, his tongue lapping at your swollen bud with fervent passion. He wanted to prove that he could make you shatter, even from sleep.

Your protests turned to whimpers as Lando's relentless assault on your pussy pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers curled inside you, rubbing against your g-spot as his tongue continued to lap at your clit. You could feel your body trembling, your mind foggy with sleep and pleasure.

You buried your hands in his hair, pulling him closer as your hips bucked against his face. The room filled with the wet, sloppy sounds of him feasting on your core, punctuated by your own desperate moans.

“Come for me, baby.”

With a final, powerful suck on your clit, Lando sent you tumbling over the edge into oblivion. Your back arched off the bed, your legs shaking violently as a intense orgasm ripped through you.

"We're going to spend the entire night fucking, and you're not allowed to rest until I say so," Lando says, his hands roaming over your body. He lifts one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist.

Lando positions himself at your entrance, slowly pushing inside. He grabs both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head as he starts to thrust. "You're mine night, understand? All mine to do with as I please."

"L-Lando, please, it's too much.”

He grins wickedly at you, his hips moving in a slow, torturous rhythm. "Shh, baby. You can take it. And you will take it, every inch, every thrust, all night long." His pace quickens, his breathing growing heavier.

He flips you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up into the air. Lando spreads your legs wide, standing between them. "Look at this pretty little ass, just begging to be spanked and fucked." He brings his hand down in a loud slap, the sound echoing through the room.

You moan into the pillow, burying your face to muffle the sound. Lando spanks you again, then runs his hands over your burning flesh, soothing the sting. He grabs your hips tightly and shoves back into you, his powerful hips slamming against your backside.

"Lando...!" you cry out, as he reaches around and finds your swollen bud, his fingers rubbing and pinching mercilessly. His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more forceful.

He grunts with satisfaction, his other hand gripping your hip possessively. "That's it, baby. Take it all. You're doing so well. Such a good girl.”

His voice trails off as he growls approval, his fingers tightening on your hip and his core.

“Please fill me up.”

He buries himself to the hilt inside you, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He moans with release, his hips jerking violently as he fills you with his cum. His fingers squeeze your hip painfully as he rides out his climax.

He leans over your back, his lips finding yours as he tries to catch his breath. His tongue slides into your mouth, claiming it in a deep, passionate kiss. As he pulls away, he nips at your bottom lip. "We're not done yet, my love. Far from it."

He slowly eases out of you and helps you onto your hands and knees. He gently wipes you clean before positioning himself under you, so that your head rests on his abdomen, near his hips.

"Come here, baby. I want to play with your mouth while you rest."

He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you securely in place. He reaches down and grabs his hardening cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it to your mouth.

"Open up, sweetheart.”

He slowly feeds his length into your mouth, inch by inch, groaning at the sensation of your wet, warm mouth wrapped around him. He gently rocks his hips back and forth, being careful not to choke you.

"Just like that, baby. Suck me off while you rest. Good girl..."

As you suck, he idly runs his fingers through your hair, occasionally tugging on it to guide your head. He can feel you growing heavier in his arms as exhaustion claims you. He smiles softly, continuing to slowly thrust in and out of your mouth. "That's it, sleep now, sweetheart."

[racetowrite]

Let me love you

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x f!reader

Tags : insecure reader, oral!fem!receiving, Daniel workshipping you like a goddess

Word Count : 2.2k

It had been a strenuous few months for you as a race engineer at Red Bull. The stress and pressure were unrelenting, leaving you feeling constantly overwhelmed. To cope, you had unfortunately taken up smoking again, and eating had become an afterthought as you worked long hours. When you finally returned home or to the hotel, you were often too exhausted to do anything but collapse into bed and fall asleep immediately.

Daniel was your boyfriend, and he was well aware of your tendency to overwork yourself and skip meals. It worried him to see how driven you were, often neglecting your own well-being for the sake of your job. He dtarted subtly intervening by bringing you more snacks and offering you meals together. He knew it was the only way to get you to take a break from work.

One day, as you were working at your desk, Daniel walked into your office, a casual smile on his face. "You up for lunch?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

You felt a pang of guilt as Daniel asked if you were up for lunch. You did have a lot of work on your plate, and the thought of taking a break felt like more of a burden than a relief.

"I... I really should finish these reports," you said reluctantly, gesturing to the piles of paperwork on your desk.

He leaned over your desk, gently taking the pen from your hand and turning your chair towards him. "Babe, you need to eat something. You're going to pass out anytime now."

His voice was affectionate and concerned, his eyes searching your weary face. "You haven't had anything but coffee all day," he pointed out gently. "You need more than that, love. I'm not leaving this office until you eat something."

You were secretly struggling with insecurities about your weight, and sometimes you purposely tried to limit your food intake as a way to cope. However, you were careful not to let on about this to Daniel, knowing how he would react if he found out.

Daniel was aware that you tended to skip meals and didn't eat enough, but he wasn't aware of the reason behind it. You tried to hide your insecurities by making up excuses or downplaying your lack of appetite.

Daniel tried to persuade you to eat something, but you firmly declined, making up excuses about having work to do or not being hungry. He had a feeling there was something more behind your refusal to eat, but he wasn't sure what it was.

His face grew increasingly concerned. "Babe, this isn't normal," he said gently. "You haven't eaten anything all day. I know you're busy, but you can't just push eating aside like that."

He studied your face, seeing the tension and the forced nonchalance. It was clear to him that something was wrong, even though you were trying to hide it. He moved closer, taking your hands in his.

"Babe, talk to me," he said quietly, his voice filled with earnestness. "I can tell something is bothering you. Please just tell me what it is."

Your relationship with Daniel had been made public a few months ago, and it had brought a surprising amount of media attention, not only because you were his girlfriend, but also because you were his race strategist at Red Bull.

People had made comments about your weight, even though you were in good shape. You weren't the typical model-type that Formula One drivers usually dated, and some people seemed to believe you didn't fit the mold.

This unexpected attention and scrutiny had made you even more self-conscious, fueling your insecurities about your weight even further. Daniel had noticed the change in your behavior, but he didn’t know the full extent of how it was affecting you.

You continued to make excuses, insisting you were too busy to eat. Daniel, however, wasn't buying it. He crossed his arms, looking at you with a stern but concerned expression.

"I'm not leaving this office until you eat something," he said firmly. Your breath hitched in your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. No one had ever cared enough to force you to eat before, and the sudden display of concern was overwhelming.

Daniel immediately noticed the tears in your eyes and his expression softened. He moved closer, lifting your chin gently to look at him.

"Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "Just please, eat something. For me. You need to take care of yourself."

The tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you looked at Daniel, his concerned and caring expression melting your resolve. You couldn't keep the secret from him anymore.

"I- I'm sorry," you said in a choked voice, your words shaky. "I just... I've been feeling so insecure lately. The comments about my weight after we went public... they got to me more than I wanted to admit.”

Daniel's face filled with understanding and empathy as you finally confessed the real reason behind your lack of eating. He gently wiped away a tear from your cheek.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice full of tenderness. "I had no idea you were feeling like that. I hate that those comments got to you, you're perfect the way you are."

He pulled you into a gentle hug, enveloping you in his warmth. "You shouldn't take any stock in what those people say," he continued, his voice firm. "They don't know you like I do. You're intelligent, strong, and beautiful, and no amount of media attention will ever change that, okay?"

He pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. "And as for your weight, you are healthy, and you look amazing. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to change anything about yourself to fit some impossible standard, alright?"

His eyes bore into yours, full of love and support. "Promise me you'll stop listening to those idiots in the media and start taking care of yourself. I don't care what anyone says, you're perfect to me.”

Despite the tears still streaming down your face, you felt a sense of relief and comfort wash over you. Being able to finally share your insecurities with Daniel and have him respond with such care and understanding made you feel a sense of security you hadn't felt in weeks.

Daniel stood up from his chair and walked over to the door, locking it firmly. He turned back to you, a determined look in his eyes.

"No distractions," he said, walking back over to your desk. Daniel returned to your side, looking into your eyes with unwavering sincerity. "We’re not leaving this room until you realize just how beautiful you truly are," he said firmly, his tone gentle yet insistent.

“Look at me." he gently cupped her face with his hands. "Look at me." he softly commanded. "You're beautiful. You're strong. You're the most amazing woman I know.”. He leaned in and softly kissed her lips. "And right now, you're mine.”

He continued to kiss her, his lips soft and gentle at first, but soon growing more insistent as he tried to erase the tears from her eyes with his kisses. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his love and affection into it.

As he held her close, Daniel's hands began to gently remove her clothes, piece by piece, until she was standing before him in nothing but her underwear. He paused for a moment, looking at her with a soft smile.

He reached out and traced a finger along the curve of her hip, his touch gentle yet possessive. "Let's start with here," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the small scar above her hip bone. "And then here," he continued, moving to the faint stretch mark on her thigh.

Daniel's voice was a low rumble, his breath warm against your skin as he continued to trace the contour of your body with his lips and hands.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, my love," he murmured, his touch becoming more possessive as he pulled you closer to him. "Every inch of you is perfect, and I want you to see that."

You felt vulnerable under Daniel's intense gaze, the insecurity and self-doubt that had plagued you for so long resurfacing once more. You fidgeted under his touch, feeling exposed and unsure.

"I'm not... I don't look like the other women that you've been with," you muttered, your voice tinged with doubt.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with warmth and adoration as he gently kissed the soft skin of your stomach. "Shh, none of that," he whispered, his voice soothing. "You're perfect just the way you are. Every scar, every stretch mark, every freckle, every imperfection..”

"...makes you, you." He emphasized his words with slow, tender kisses along your belly, up to your breasts. "And you are beautiful." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap, his strong hands caressing your back, your waist, your thighs.

His touch became more confident, more urgent as his hands roamed over your body. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, his hands squeezing your breasts gently before sliding down to your hips and thighs. "Spread your legs for me," he whispered hoarsely.

As you complied, he slid a hand down your body and cupped you over your underwear. He looked up at you, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire. "You're beautiful, everywhere,” he rasped, hooking his fingers into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down.

His hands gripped your thighs, parting them wider as he lowered his head. His breath was hot against your cunt, his hands firm on your thighs as he began to kiss and lick you slowly. His touch was gentle yet insistent, his tongue parting your folds to taste you deeply.

His tongue delved deeper, fucking your pussy with long, slow strokes. He sucked on your clit, his lips gentle yet firm, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His hands held your thighs in a vice-like grip, keeping you open for him as he ate you out relentlessly.

The room filled with the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the sound of his eager sucking and the slick noises of his fingers pumping in and out of you. His hands tightened on your thighs, his touch possessive as he devoured you. "Daniel, please."

Daniel's fingers pumped in and out of you, the cold metal of his rings pressing against your sensitive flesh. Every time he pushed into you, you could feel the ridges of his rings, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. "Oh god. Daniel, it's too much."

"Shh, baby," he murmured against your wet flesh, his breath hot as he continued to suck and lick. "It's not enough until you're coming all over my face." His rings pressed into you again and again, the sensation overwhelming as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as your hips bucked against his mouth. The cool metal of his rings on his fingers mixed with the heat of his mouth and the pressure of his hands on your thighs, pushing you higher and higher. "Daniel... I'm- I'm going to-“

He swallowed your cry as your orgasm hit, his mouth devouring your pussy as you came hard on his face. His fingers pumped into you relentlessly, the rings dragging against your g-spot and sending you into a second, even more intense orgasm.

As you trembled and shook through your climax, Daniel finally pulled his mouth away, his lips glistening with your juices. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he spoke.

He gently pushed you back on the sofa from your office, his hands sliding up your sides as he kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, the evidence of your passion mingling with his eager kisses. "Daniel, please, don’t make me beg.” you begged breathlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Daniel broke the kiss and looked into your eyes, his expression intense. "Look at me," he commanded softly. "I want you to know that you are beautiful, inside and out. Every curve, every freckle, every little gasp and moan you make, it's all perfect. Understand?"

He waited for your nod of understanding before leaning down to kiss your collarbone, his hands caressing your full breasts. "You deserve to be worshipped," he whispered against your skin. "And I'm going to show you for the rest of my life just how beautiful you are.”

His touch was gentle yet firm, his hands mapping out every inch of your body. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, his touch reverent as he showed you just how beautiful he thought you were. His fingers trailed along your thighs, parting them gently as he knelt between them.

The sudden ringing of Daniel's phone shattered the intimate moment, jolting both of you back to reality. He reached for the phone, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he read the message on the screen.

"Damnit," he muttered, his voice frustrated. "I have to go and get ready for qualifying."

He set his phone aside and looked at you, his expression softening.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I know we were in the middle of something, but I really need to get going."

He leaned in to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours for a moment before he pulled back.

[racetowrite]

Secret

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Max Verstappen x f!reader

Tags : gut wrenching smut with very little plot, cheating, breeding kink, dom!max, blowjob

Word Count : 1.7k

Despite being in a relationship with your new boyfriend, Lando, you found yourself repeatedly going back to your ex boyfriend, Max. It seemed like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't escape his magnetic pull. You loved Lando, but your physical attraction to Max was just too strong. This conflicted you deeply as you knew what you were doing was wrong, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from giving in to your selfish desires.

You hated yourself for succumbing to Max's charms every time, even though you were currently supposed to be committed to Lando. You felt guilty, not only for cheating, but also for not being satisfied with what you had with Lando. But the pull towards Max was stronger than your willpower or conscience. It was as if you were addicted to the thrill, the excitement that only he could provide.

You stood outside Max’s door, your heart thumping in your chest. You had once again given into your base desires and decided to visit your ex-boyfriend, despite knowing it was wrong. The thought of Lando and the guilt that came with cheating hovered at the back of your mind, but it couldn’t dampen the growing intensity of your anticipation.

You heard the sound of footsteps approaching and the door swing open, revealing Max. His face broke into a cocky smile as he saw you, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily. “I knew you couldn’t stay away for long,” he taunted, leaning against the door frame.

Despite the self-hatred you felt deep inside, your body reacted to his presence, a tingle of desire rushing through you. You swallowed hard, trying to sound nonchalant as you met his gaze. “Can I come in?”

Max chuckled as you asked if you could come in, his amusement obvious. “You really shouldn't have to ask,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of mockery and familiarity. As soon as the door closed behind you, he pinned you against the wall, his body pressing against yours. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and parted lips. "You're too easy, love," he murmured, his tone smug.

“Tell me why you’re here, my dear,” Max breathed into your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin. “Is it because your new man can’t satisfy you like I can?” His hand slid up your thigh, pushing your skirt up as he went.

You shivered at the sensation of Max's breath on your ear, his question and touch making your heart race. His hand on your thigh was all too familiar, stirring up memories and sensations that you had tried to ignore. You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze, knowing he was right.

"You know why I'm here," you said, your voice coming out in a breathless whisper. "Lando—" You swallowed, trying to find the right words. "He doesn't... he can't... like you do.”

Max chuckled, his triumph evident in his voice. "So you're admitting it," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck now. "Admitting that I'm better. That no one else can make you feel the way I do." His hand slid higher up your thigh, his touch growing more possessive.

“You’re so predictable,” Max continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them down as well. He lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist as he pressed himself against you. “Always chasing the thrill, the excitement, the forbidden love.”

"You know what you're doing to me," you gasped, your voice a choked moan as Max's touch sent jolts of excitement coursing through you. You hated how easily he could reduce you to this state, how easily he could make you forget about everything else.

"It's not just...about the thrill," you protested, your words sounding weak even to your own ears. "I’m addicted to you."

Max's grin widened, his ego clearly inflated by your words. "Good," he hissed, nuzzling his face into your neck. "That's exactly how I want you. Hooked, obsessed, unable to stay away from me, no matter how hard you try."

Max hoisted you over his shoulder like a caveman, making you giggle despite the situation. He carried you into his bedroom, tossing you onto the unmade bed. "You talk too much," he said, his voice husky as he began to unbuckle his belt.

"I-" you began to say, but he was right. Talking wasn’t really what either of you were here for.

Max's eyes locked onto yours as he slowly unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor. He stepped out of them, standing before you in just his boxers. The bulge was prominent, a clear indication of his arousal. "See what you do to me?" he growled.

You part your lips, and Max shoves his length into your mouth, forcing you to deepthroat him.

"Fuck, yeah, schatje,"

Max's hand goes to the back of your head, holding you in place as he pistons in and out of your mouth, using it as he pleases.

"Gag for me, baby, you will only gag on me, not on Lando,"

Max's face contorted with pleasure as he continued to thrust into your mouth. "You look so beautiful with your mouth stuffed full of me," he praised darkly. "And to think, Lando has no idea you're down here, worshipping me like this."

Max's thrusts grew more urgent, his grip on the back of your head tightening. "Gag on me, schatje, gag on my dick like the cheating slut you are. Lando doesn't deserve a mouth like yours, it belongs to me, only me."

With a particularly hard thrust, you gagged loudly around his length, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Max's response was to fuck your mouth even harder, using your gag reflex against you. "That's it, gorgeous, gag on my dick, you love it, don't you?"

Max's hand tightened in your hair, holding your head still as he pounded into your mouth with brutal force. Your nose was pressed against his pubic bone, your tears dripping onto his thighs as you gagged and choked on his thick length.

"You look so pathetic right now," Max taunted, his voice cold. "Drowning on my cock, while your boyfriend sits at home, completely oblivious. He'd be so heartbroken if he knew the truth. But he'll never know, will he?"

Max's eyes gleamed with a sinister intent as he continued to use your mouth like a personal fucktoy. "I want to film this, schatje," he growled. "I want to capture the look of desperation on your face as you gag on my dick, the tears streaming down your cheeks."

He reached over to his bedside table, pulling out a small camera. "Open your mouth wide for me, baby," he instructed, his voice dripping with condescension. He wanted to immortalize you like this, a mess of tears and saliva, ruined by him. "Now stick out your tongue."

As you complied, sticking out your tongue, Max positioned the camera to capture the perfect shot. He pressed record and began to fuck your mouth again, his thick length sliding in and out as he spoke. "I'm going to make a video of you gagging on my dick, schatje."

“And then, I'm going to send it to Lando. He'll finally know the truth about you, his perfect little girlfriend who can't keep her mouth off another man's cock. Would you like that, baby?"

Max's face twisted with sadistic pleasure as he continued to thrust into your mouth, the camera capturing every degrading moment. "Alright, that's enough," he hissed, pulling out of your mouth and turning off the camera.

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of shame and excitement as the camera captured the degrading scene. You hated yourself for enjoying it, but the thought of Lando and the guilt of cheating mixed with the thrill of the moment, made it hard to think straight.

"Turn it off," you gasped, trying to regain your composure and some semblance of decency as Max ended the recording.

Max turned off the camera, a satisfied smirk on his face. He knew exactly the effect he had on you. The guilt, the shame, the excitement - he reveled in it all.

"You loved that, didn't you?" he teased, his eyes roaming over your disheveled form. "Bet Lando doesn't make you feel a fraction of what I do."

A mixture of anger and shame welled up inside of you, hating the fact that he was right. But you couldn’t admit it to him, not yet.

“Shut up,” you snapped, your voice lacking any real bite. “You have no idea what my relationship with Lando is like."

Max chuckled darkly as he unceremoniously pushed into you from behind, not bothering with foreplay. "Oh, I have a pretty good idea, schatje," he drawled. "Lando's too sweet, too pure for someone like you."

His grip on your hips was painfully tight as he continued to pound into you, the sound of his hips slapping against your backside filling the room. "He'd never suspect that his little girlfriend is actually a little cheater, would he?" he taunted.

Max's large hands gripped your hips painfully tight, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he pounded into you from behind. His pace was brutal, his hips slapping against yours with each forceful thrust. His thick length stretched you wide, filling you completely as he drove deep and hard into your core.

His cock was long and thick, easily reaching depths that no one else ever had, certainly not Lando. With each thrust, he hit a spot inside you that made your vision blur and your mind spin.

Max's pace only increased, his breathing growing heavier as he neared his climax. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep inside you, feeling your tight warmth squeeze his cock as he filled you with his seed. But you, remembering the consequences, protested weakly, "Max, no!"

“Max, please!” you gasped, trying to push yourself forward to get away from him, but his strong hands held you firm. “Don’t finish inside me, please! I can’t get pregnant, not now!

Max's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fought to hold on to his control. He growled, his voice low and menacing, "Shut up, fucking stop talking! I'm going to fill you up regardless, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

He let out a low, guttural groan, his body stiffening as he buried himself deep inside you. He throbbed, releasing hot jets of cum into you. Max's body trembled as he emptied himself, the sensation of filling you overwhelming him.

[racetowrite]

Hunger

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Lewis Hamilton x f!reader

Tags : squirting, mean!lewis!dom, gut wrenching smut, unprotected piv, age gap

Word Count : 3.5k

Lewis was taking a walk through the pitlane late at night, enjoying the silence and stillness of the empty garage. As he passed by the Ferrari garage, he caught a glimpse of you, his new strategist, still working away.

Intrigued, he stepped inside the garage and approached you, a hint of concern in his voice as he spoke. "What are you doing here this late?" he asked. "You should be getting rest."

You looked up at Lewis, a small smile on your face. "I still have some work to do," you admitted, gesturing to the data and statistics spread out on the desk in front of you. "I like to stay a little later to get a head start on tomorrow's qualifying."

You turned back to the tablet in your hand, the glow of the screen casting shadows across your face. Lewis watched you for a moment, impressed by your dedication, but also worried that you were burning the midnight oil a little too much.

Lewis had been driving for Ferrari for seven months now, and in that time you had been the only one to really make him feel welcome and valued within the team. Your warm demeanor and strategic insights had quickly earned his respect and trust.

At the same time, he couldn't help but notice little things about you, like how you always seemed to be the last one in the garage and how you always seemed to push yourself harder than anyone else.

As he stood there watching you work, Lewis felt a pang of worry in his chest. He had grown fond of you, not just as a colleague but as a friend. He couldn't help but notice how hard you worked and how much you pushed yourself to give your best to the team.

Lewis watched you for a moment longer, admiring your dedication and determination, but also seeing the signs of fatigue on your face. He took a deep breath and spoke up.

"Hey," he began, his tone gentle. "It's late, and you've been working for hours. How about we go to the hotel bar for a drink and relax a little? You need to unwind."

You looked up at Lewis, a small laugh escaping your lips. "Since when did you start drinking before a race?" you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Lewis chuckled, his own smile growing wider. "I know, I know," he said, holding up his hands in mock defensiveness. "But one drink can't hurt, right? Besides, we need to unwind a little before tomorrow's race."

You chewed on your lower lip, considering his words. Lewis was right, tomorrow was a big race and relaxation was important. "Alright," you finally relented, closing your tablet and standing up from the desk. "But just one drink, okay? Don't want to get too crazy."

Lewis's face broke into a victorious smile, his eyes lighting up at your agreement. "One drink, I promise," he said, holding up his hand in mock oath.

He waited for you to gather up your things before leading the way out of the garage and towards the hotel bar near the track.

The hotel bar was a cozy and relaxed atmosphere, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Lewis led you to a small, secluded corner table, pulling out a chair for you before taking a seat across from you.

You smiled gratefully as Lewis pulled out your chair and took a seat across from you. "Thank you," you said softly, touched by the gesture.

The corner table was intimate and secluded, a perfect spot for a relaxed conversation and a drink. You glanced around, taking in the cozy atmosphere of the bar, the soft music setting the mood.

Lewis signaled a waiter to bring over drinks, ordering two glasses of red wine for the both of you. Once the waiter had left, he turned his attention back to you, a smile still playing at the corners of his lips.

Lewis settled back in his chair, his eyes studying you across the small table. He had always found you intriguing, with your sharp mind and strategic insights. Now, in the dim light of the bar, he found himself wanting to know more about you beyond your work.

"So," he began, his voice low and casual, "tell me something about yourself that I don't already know. Something personal."

You chuckled softly, a hint of self-deprecation in your voice. "My life is pretty complicated, not much to tell," you said, shaking your head a little.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, not sure where to even begin. Your private life was messy and chaotic, and you weren't used to sharing those details with anyone.

But there was something about Lewis, that open and earnest look in his eyes, that made you want to open up just a little bit. Taking a sip of your wine, you continued. "Let's just say I've had a lot of ups and downs lately. It's been a bit of a roller coaster, to put it lightly."

Lewis leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed intently on you. Your words had intrigued him, stirring his natural curiosity. He could see the hint of pain behind your smile, the shadows in your eyes. He was suddenly desperate to know more about you, to uncover all the layers and complexities that made you who you were.

"I can relate to that," he said softly. "Life can be unpredictable and brutal. But we all have our stories."

Lewis studied your face, his eyes tracing the contours of your features as if he could read your thoughts. There was a part of him, a deep-rooted curiosity, that wanted to know everything about you. Not just the professional side, but your whole story.

"You must have a lot more to you than meets the eye," he remarked, his voice holding a hint of wonder. "I'd like to know more about you, the real you behind all this," he gestured around, "strategy and work."

Lewis took a sip of his wine, gathering his thoughts. He knew that in order to earn your trust, he needed to be open and vulnerable as well.

"Alright, let me start then," he began, his voice taking on a more serious edge. "I've been through a lot in my career, and sometimes I feel like I'm carrying the weight of it all on my shoulders. It's hard, being in the public eye all the time, but sometimes it feels lonelier than I'd like to admit."

He paused, taking another sip of wine, his eyes fixed on your face, searching for any reaction from you. "And it's not just the fame," he continued, "it's the pressure to perform, the constant scrutiny, all of it. Sometimes I wonder if anyone truly understands what it's like."Lewis leaned back in his chair, trying to gauge your reaction. He wanted to open up to you, to show you that he wasn't just the famous 7 world champion (one might say 8th) driver. He was also just a man, with his own struggles and fears.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is," he finally said, his voice low and sincere, "I understand what it's like to feel like you're carrying the world on your shoulders. And I hope someday, you feel comfortable enough to share your burdens with me."

You couldn't help but smile softly at Lewis's words. His honesty was refreshing, and you appreciated his willingness to share his own struggles and vulnerabilities.

"Thank you," you said, your voice sincere, "for being open with me.“

You took a deep breath, gearing yourself to share a bit more about your life. "You know, I have another job on top of being a strategist," you started, fiddling with the stem of your wine glass.

Lewis's eyes widened in surprise and curiosity. He hadn't been expecting that. "Really?" he asked, leaning forward, his gaze fixed intently on your face. "What else do you do?"

You nodded, your gaze dropping to your wine glass for a moment before meeting Lewis's eyes again. "I'm a medical resident in neurology," you said. "It's a lot to juggle but it's something I've always been passionate about."

Lewis was in awe. "That's impressive," he said admiringly, his tone filled with genuine respect. "I knew you were intelligent, but I didn't know you were a doctor as well. No wonder you keep your cool in when the team is panicking."

You chuckled softly, the compliment making you feel a little bit self-conscious. "High-pressure situations are just a part of my daily life," you said, a hint of humor in your voice. "I just handle them differently depending on whether it's a pit stop or a hospital emergency."

Lewis chuckled along with you, enjoying the playfulness in your response. He studied you closely, as if seeing you in a completely new light. He had always known you were smart and capable, but learning about your other career added a whole new dimension to your character.

As he listened to you speak, Lewis found himself becoming even more captivated. Your passion for your work, the fact that you were a doctor on top of being a strategist, it all made you even more beautiful in his eyes.

He wasn't just admiring your outward attractiveness anymore, he was admiring the person you were. Smart, dedicated, compassionate and strong. You were beautiful not just on the outside but on the inside as well.

By the time you were a couple of drinks in, the atmosphere between you and Lewis had grown more relaxed and comfortable. Lewis was feeling a bit courageous, and emboldened by the wine.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and sultry, "How about we continue this... somewhere a bit more private?" His eyes met yours, a question in his gaze.

Your heart skipped a beat as you understood the implications of his words. You swallowed hard, not expecting this turn of events, but not entirely opposed to it either.

"Uh, sure," you replied, your voice a little shaky. The alcohol had definitely lowered your inhibitions, making you feel bolder than you normally would.

Lewis noticed the hint of uncertainty in your eyes and the slight tremble in your voice as you agreed to go to his hotel room. He could tell that you weren't sure about this, that you were a bit out of your comfort zone.

"Hey," he said softly, leaning a little closer to you. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, alright?" His concern was genuine, his eyes fixed on you, seeing past the facade of confidence the drinks might have given you.

As the subject of your age difference crossed your mind, a wave of worry washed over you. You were only 23 and Lewis was significantly older at 39. He hadn't asked you your age yet, and you were starting to wonder if that would be a dealbreaker for him.

You took a deep breath, the alcohol in your system making you braver than usual. "Lewis," you said, biting your lip, "There's something I need to tell you..."

Lewis looked at you curiously, sensing the slight shift in your tone. He put down his glass and turned in his chair to fully face you. "What is it?" he asked, his voice low and earnest.

You took another sip of your wine for courage before meeting his eyes again. "It's just...I'm 23," you confessed, bracing yourself for his reaction. "I know we didn't discuss our ages, but... I think you should know."

Lewis looked at you, a soft, amused smile on his lips. "23, huh?" he said, the fact seeming to amuse him. "You know, I had a feeling you were younger, but I didn't know by how much."

He reached a hand across, gently taking your chin in his fingers. His eyes held a fierce determination. "But I don't care how old you are. I want you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You hadn't expected him to be so direct, so certain. "But... the age gap," you blurted out, your mind still wrestling with the implications of what was happening.

Lewis's smile widened, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "The age gap doesn't matter," he replied, gently stroking his thumb along your jawline. "We're grown adults, aren't we? We know what we want."

His confidence and assurance were intoxicating. You found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his, your breath catching in your throat. "But... we work together ," you said weakly, trying to find a reason to resist.

Lewis chuckled again, his fingers tracing downward, caressing the sensitive skin of your neck. "We've always been professional at work," he said, his voice low and persuasive. "What we do outside of work is no one else's business but ours."

Lewis led you through the hotel corridors, his hand firmly holding yours. The elevator ride was a silent one, the air between you filled with anticipation.

As soon as the elevator door open, Lewis spun you around, pinning you against the wall. He didn't waste any time. His lips captured yours in a passionate kiss, his hands framing your face.

“Fucking made for me." Lewis murmured around your neck.

Lewis’s lips brushed against yours, and finally, he kissed you like a starving man who stumbled upon his favorite meal.

He pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving.

“Let's get to the room, I need you now. And don't even think about trying to slow things down, sweetheart.”

As soon as he opens the door his hotel room, Lewis kicked it shut and pulled you into his arms, his mouth finding yours in a searing kiss. He walked you backwards until your back hit the wall, then he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He ground his hardness against your core, his voice hoarse as he spoke between kisses.

“You have no idea how much I've wanted you, sweetheart. These past seven months... God, it's been hell. I've thought about this - about you - every single day.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the heat between you growing with each moment. His body pressed against yours, you could feel the evidence of his desire for you. The months of suppressed longing and glances were finally coming to a head.

"I've thought about you too," you confessed against his lips, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. "Wondered what it would be like...to be with you like this."

His hands tightened on your backside, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You don't know how many cold showers I've taken, thinking about you...wondering if you'd taste as sweet as you look.”

He began to kiss and nip at your neck, his hands roaming your back and hips possessively.

“I used to imagine burying my face between your thighs...tasting you...hearing you moan my name.”

His voice was low and gravelly, his breath hot against your skin.

He carried you to the bed, gently laying you down. He began to unbutton his shirt slowly, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Seven months. I've waited seven months to touch you, to hear you beg for me.”

His shirt fell to the floor, revealing his tattooed chest.

He climbed onto the bed, kneeling between your legs. He reached out to trace a finger along your jawline, his eyes burning with desire.

“Please, Lewis. I need you..please, just touch me.” Your voice was desperate, pleading.

He let out a low, hungry growl at your begging. He reached out and gripped your thighs, spreading them wider apart.

“You're so fucking beautiful, sweetheart.”

He leaned forward, his mouth hovering over your core. “I'm gonna eat this pretty pussy until you're screaming my name.”

He buried his face between your thighs, his tongue parting your folds and delving into your wet cunt. You gasped, your hands flying to his hair. Your hips bucked against his mouth, your breathing growing rapid and shallow as he feasted on you.

He sucked and licked, his fingers joining in to stretch and fill you. He growled against your flesh, the vibration sending shivers through your entire body.

“Come for me, beautiful. I want to taste you on my tongue.”

He curled his fingers inside you, rubbing that spot that drove you wild.

He lifted his head, his lips glistening with your essence. He looked up at you, his eyes blazing with intensity. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb strumming against your swollen bud.

He redoubled his efforts, his mouth latching back onto your center. His fingers curled inside you, his touch firm and unyielding. He growled against your flesh, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge, but not quite over.

“Look at me.”

With a final, desperate look at his face, you shattered. Your body convulsed, your back arching off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. And to your shock, you felt a gush of liquid escape your core, soaking the sheets beneath you and Lewis's face.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you became aware of the wetness between your thighs and the embarrassment that flooded your cheeks. You clamped your legs shut, hiding your face in your hands.

“Oh God. I'm so sorry, I've never, I mean, I didn't know”

Lewis wiped his face, a smug grin on his face. He crawled up the bed and gently pried your hands from your face.

“Gorgeous, look at me. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. Please, don't be embarrassed.”

He kissed you slowly, deeply, so you could taste yourself on his lips.

“That was so beautiful...and it's a turn-on knowing I'm the first man to make you do that.”

He interlocks his fingers behind your back, pulling you even closer.

“I'm going to pound you so hard that you won't be able to walk straight tomorrow. Your pussy is going to be so sore, so swollen, that you'll be feeling me for days."

He paused, his fingers trailing along your collarbone.

"And if you ask me to stop, or beg me to be gentle, I'm going to ignore you. You're mine tonight, and I'm going to take you exactly how I want.”

His eyes met yours, daring you to protest.

When you didn't say anything, just bit your lip and nodded, he smiled wickedly.

"Good girl...Now turn over, and grip the headboard."

You turned over, gripping the headboard tightly as Lewis positioned himself behind you. He reached between your legs, spreading your thighs wide before lining his cock up with your entrance.

"Remember, you can't ask me to stop, and you definitely can't ask me to be gentle."

He slammed into you, filling you to the hilt in one deep thrust. You cried out, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the headboard tighter. He was big, bigger than anyone you'd been with before, and he filled you completely.

“Lewis..Oh, my, God”

He ignored your plea, grabbing your hips tightly as he began to pound into you mercilessly. He set a brutal pace, each thrust punctuated by the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and your muffled cries.

"Shh baby, just take it.”

He reached one hand around to cover your mouth, his fingers delving into your mouth to silence your cries. His other hand continued to grip your hip tightly as he continued to pound into you, his pace growing even faster.

“That's it, baby, take it all.. You can take more.”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes as he continued to stretch you, his thickness rubbing against that spot inside you that made you buck against him. Your fingers scrambled against the headboard, searching for something to hold onto as he continued to mercilessly pound into you.

“Lewis, Lewis, I’m- I’m gonna cum.”

He growled, his fingers tightening over your mouth as his hips snapped forward, burying himself to the hilt.

"I said no talking. Now shut up and take it.” His voice was low, menacing, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. His breathing grew ragged, his movements becoming erratic and jerky. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you and let out a guttural moan. His hand tightened painfully on your hip as he began to pulse hot seed into you, his face contorted with pleasure.

He slumped against your back, his breath hot against your neck as he nuzzled you gently.

"Good girl.” he panted, slowly withdrawing from you and collapsing onto the bed beside you. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

"You okay, baby?"

You nodded weakly, too boneless to move. He gently turned you onto your side, pulling you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you tightly.

"I'm sorry if I was too rough.” he murmured, pressing gentle kisses to your neck and shoulders. "But you took it so well.”

[racetowrite]

A smut where it’s landos birthday, and the reader teases him all day and it really pissed him off. Then at the end of the day she says “you can do whatever you want to me” as part of his birthday gift. And he just goes feral😭 like KINKY ass dirty lando.🙏❤️

Gift

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Lando Norris x f!reader

Tags : Lando really loves that you are his wife, breeding kink, unprotected piv

Word Count : 4k

Even after a year of marriage, Lando still found himself in awe of the life he had built with you. The beautiful home you shared in Monaco, the way you effortlessly meshed into his fast-paced world as a Formula One driver - it all felt like a dream. Looking at you, with your sparkling eyes and infectious smile, he sometimes had to remind himself that this was real, you were real, and you were his wife. He couldn't quite believe his luck.

Lando was head over heels in love with you from the moment he met you. He had had his fair share of flings and casual relationships, but when you came into his life, he knew he had found the real deal. After just five months of dating, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and he didn't waste any time proposing.

From that moment on, he was completely smitten. The thought of going back to his old playboy ways didn't cross his mind; you had captured his heart completely.

The proposal had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, but as soon as he had done it, Lando knew it was the right thing to do. He had never been so sure of anything in his life, and he hadn't spared any expense.

He had gone all out, planning a special day filled with romantic gestures and intimate moments. From a candlelit dinner at your favorite restaurant to a surprise on his private yacht, he had left no stone unturned. As he knelt down and asked you to marry him, he couldn't imagine his life without you.

Flashback from one year ago

Lando took you on a private yacht cruise, the ocean breeze tousling your hair and the setting sun casting a warm glow over the water. As you watched the waves gently lap against the side of the boat, he excused himself for a moment. A few minutes later, he returned with a bottle of your favorite champagne and two glasses. He joined you at the rail of the boat, pouring two glasses and handing one to you. He clinked his glass against yours, his gaze locked on your face.

"There's something I've been wanting to ask you," he said, his voice low and serious.

Your heart skipped a beat, sensing the sudden shift in his tone. You turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"What is it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando set his glass down on a nearby ledge, taking your free hand in his. He took a deep breath, his nerves starting to show just a little under his usually confident facade.

"I've been thinking about this a lot," he began, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. "And I know it's fast, but I don't want to wait any longer..."

Lando took a step closer to you, his free hand slipping into the pocket of his jeans. He paused, his eyes fixed on your face, before he slowly sank to one knee in front of you.

He took your hand in both of his, the gesture intimate and vulnerable. His eyes were filled with a mixture of love and excitement, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by a nervous determination. The boat rocked gently on the water, the sound of the waves against the hull and the soft light of the setting sun adding to the romantic atmosphere. Lando's expression was earnest and hopeful, his grip on your hand firm but not possessive.

"I have something for you," he said, his voice a little shaky but determined. "Close your eyes."

You obeyed, closing your eyes and trusting him implicitly. For a moment, you waited in anticipation, wondering what he could have possibly prepared for this moment. As you opened your eyes, the sight that greeted you took your breath away. The sky was brilliantly lit up with a dazzling display of fireworks, each burst of color and spark spelling out the words "Will you marry me?" Lando watched your reaction intently, holding his breath as he waited for your response. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest as you took in the beautiful scene before you. Without a word, you looked down at Lando, still on one knee, and nodded vigorously, unable to find your voice. His face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy, a wide grin spreading across his face. Without a second of hesitation, he rose to his feet and pulled you into a tight embrace.

"Is that a yes then?" he asked, his voice a low murmur in your ear. You could hear the grin in his voice, the disbelief that this moment was happening.

You laughed and nodded again, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him tightly. "Yes, yes yes," you replied, your words stumbling over themselves in excitement. "Yes, I'll marry you." Lando hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. He couldn't stop smiling, his heart overflowing with emotions. Finally setting you back down, he took your face in his hands and kissed you deeply.

End of the flashback

You had taken care of all the details, from sending out the invitations to coordinating the decorations, food, and entertainment. You had even managed to keep the location of the party a surprise from Lando, wanting to see the look on his face when he saw what you had prepared for him.

You had started your day of teasing Lando from the moment he woke up. You had cooked him breakfast and served it in bed, complete with a silly birthday hat and a big bow tied around his waist. He had grumbled and swatted at your hands, but you could see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

As the day went on, you continued your playful banter, cracking jokes and poking fun at him whenever you could. Despite his feigned irritation, you could tell he was enjoying the attention. By the time the birthday party rolled around, Lando was practically buzzing with excitement. He was surrounded by all of his friends and family, laughter and music filling the air. But despite the fun atmosphere, he couldn't help but notice your constant teasing, he has been hard for over one hour and he wanted, he needed, to go home as fast as possible.

He watches you with hunge across the room, grabbing your fruity drink from the bartender while you chat with his bestfriends, Max Fewtrell and Carlos Sainz, at the pool table.

Lando's eyes followed you as you chatted and laughed with Max and Carlos, his attention intense and focused. He fidgeted with the empty glass in his hand, trying to keep his mind from wandering too much.

Lando had been on edge all day, your constant teasing driving him wild with desire. He wanted nothing more than to drag you back home and have his way with you, but he had to wait until the party was over.

Max, noticing Lando's obvious distraction, nudged him with his elbow. "You're really distracted today, mate," he said with a knowing grin. "Thinking about something?"

The question was innocent enough, but Lando could sense the underlying implication. He shot Max a sidelong glare before sighing and running a hand through his hair. "Just ready to be done with this party," he grumbled.

Carlos chuckled at Lando's grumble, swirling his own drink in his hand. "Oh, come on, mate," he said with a smirk. "This party can't end until the birthday boy has made a speech. It's tradition."

Lando rolled his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. He knew that Carlos was right, but all he wanted to do was take you home and give you his private "thank you" gift for the day.

You pulled Lando aside. With a sultry smile, you said, "After the speech, you can do whatever you want to me tonight, birthday boy. My body is your gift."

Lando was caught off guard by your sudden declaration, his eyes widening in surprise. He tried to stay composed in front of everyone, but it was a struggle. When he spoke, his voice was low and huskier than usual.

"Is that right?" he asked, his eyes lingering on your lips. "And what if I wanted to take you up on that offer right now, before my speech?"

You smirked at the hint of desire in his voice, knowing that you had him hooked. Feeling particularly daring, you leaned in close, your body brushing against his as you whispered into his ear.

"I'm all yours, my dear husband" you murmured, your breath warm on his skin. "But you have to give a good speech first."

Lando stifled a moan, his eyes flashing with lust and anticipation. He knew you were baiting him, but he was powerless against your seductive charm. Taking a deep breath, he tried to compose himself and nodded.

"Fine, fine," he said with a wry smile. "I'll make the damn speech. But you'd better believe I'm collecting my present as soon as I'm done."

You laughed and pulled away, leaving Lando standing there with a mixture of frustration and desire. You knew he was going to make the speech of his life with the promise of your body as his reward.

Sure enough, Lando gave the most enthusiastic and charming speech of his life. He thanked everyone for coming, made a few jokes, and even cracked a corny pun or two. The entire time, he kept sneaking glances in your direction, his eyes full of promise and want.

Lando practically marched across the room to you as soon as his speech ended, his eyes locked on yours. His stride was purposeful, his shoulders taut with suppressed desire.

He reached you in a few swift strides, his hand landing on your hip and pulling you against him. His touch was possessive, his body pressing against yours, making it clear that he was ready to claim his prize.

“Let’s go home, handsome.”

Lando's eyes darkened with desire at your words, his grip on your hip tightening. "You don't have to tell me twice," he said, his voice low and gruff.

He took your hand in his, leading you towards the exit with a sense of urgency. He barely bothered to say goodbye to his friends, his mind firmly set on the prize he was about to claim.

The drive back to your home was filled with a tense silence, the air thick with anticipation. Lando kept his hand on your thigh, his fingers tracing small circles on your skin, a constant reminder of what was to come.

By the time you arrived home, both of you were practically vibrating with need. Lando escorted you inside, his touch possessive and insistent.

“Do you promise to take care of me, baby? I’ve been told that I can be greedy. Gonna need you to make me cum as many times as I want.”

Lando feels lightheaded, his vision blurring at the edges. “Fuck, gorgeous, anything. Anything you want, you��ll get it, promise I’ll-”

He licks into your mouth like he’s starving for it, like he’ll never get to again, like it’s not the cold metal of his ring on your finger, pressed against his cheek as you cup his jaw.

“So, so fucking pretty for me, my god. Got everyone at my birthday party to look at you, but you’re mine, yeah? My wife, fuck-” Lando says into your mouth, choking on the last word, bucking up into you. 

“Bed, Lan, please,” you whine, head spinning with the taste, the smell, the feel of him under your fingertips. He grins into your mouth before taking your hand again, breaking into a jog through your little house and into your bedroom, the both of you giggling like teenagers.

You make him feel alive, Lando thinks, laughing into your mouth as he lays you gently onto the mattress. Even with his creaky knees and graying hair, you manage to make him feel young. He presses himself against you, and you mewl, your hips moving in desperate little grinds against the bulge in his jeans. 

“Lando, please,” you choke, gasping softly as his zipper catches on your clit through your panties. You’re clenching around nothing, suddenly so unbearably empty that you could cry from it.

Lando shushes you gently, running his hands under your shirt, rucking it up over your chest. You raise your arms to help him along, and Lando wastes no time in divesting you of your shirt. He tosses it behind him carelessly before leaning down again to lick into your mouth, utterly addicted to the taste of you. 

There’s something about Lando that brings out this part of you, this desperate, needy part that you’d never felt before knowing him. He makes you feel ravenous, animalistic as he towers over you, kissing you like a man possessed.

You reach down to grab his shirt in a fist, shoving it up his stomach until he finally smiles against your mouth, breaking away from your kiss to yank his shirt off, tossing it in the same direction he threw yours. He moves down, trailing hot, sticky kisses and bites to your neck, your collarbone, right between the valley of your tits.

His thick hands curl around your back, his calluses scratching along your soft skin, raising goosebumps in their wake as he unclasps your bra, dragging it down your arms and leaving you bared to him. It should feel vulnerable, exposed, but you hear Lando groan softly under his breath at the sight of you, and you feel anything but vulnerable. Fuck, you feel powerful, stunning under Lando’s burning gaze.

He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it feverishly while his other hand, warm and rough, tweaks the other harshly. You can’t help how your back shoots up, how a choked moan escapes your throat. Your hands tangle in his hair, a terribly sexy mess of brown hair, holding him to your chest.

“Fuck, oh God, Lando, Lando, need you so bad baby, please. Please,” you mumble, your mind already hazy as Lando switches nipples, his eyes closed and lost in you. He brings his free hand down, down, under your skirt, and presses a thumb harshly over your clit through your panties. The friction of the cotton is harsh against your throbbing clit, but Lando rubs quick little circles into you, reveling in the whines that escape unbidden from the back of your throat.

“So fucking pretty, princess . My love, my life. You’re my fucking life, you know that? So gorgeous, angel, and all mine. Fuck, can’t believe you’re mine, baby.” Lando mumbles against your skin, finally releasing your nipple from his mouth. He continues peppering tiny kisses down your stomach, staring up at you as he does. His mouth doesn’t leave your skin even as he brings his hand up from your clothed cunt, tugging your skirt and panties down your legs. You can feel how soaked you’ve gotten, the way your thighs are slick with your arousal.

“Fuck, beautiful, what’s got you this wet, huh?” He grunts, his voice gravelly and rough.

“You, Lando, it’s all- it’s all you. Since the moment when your birthday party started, baby, since before the speech. Fuck, always want you, Lando, ‘m ready for you all the time.” You tilt your hips up with your words, your entrance throbbing and so desperate for his touch.

“God, beautiful,” Lando groans. “Such a fucking slut, huh? You would’ve let me fuck you right at my birthday party, yeah? Just let me tug you into the bathroom and fuck you as hard as I want. Would've done it too, sweet girl, you get me so fucking hot. In these,” he presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, and you twitch as you feel him breathe a warm gust of air right over your desperate pussy. “In these fucking little skirts you like to wear, god. Got the sexiest woman in the fucking world, yeah? Everyone wants you, but I’m the one who gets to have you. I get to have you for the rest of our lives, mi amor.” He’s so close, so fucking close to where you need him most. “I get to fuck this sweet pussy for the rest of our lives, baby,” Lando breathes.

You nearly scream as he licks a long stripe up your cunt, lapping up some of the mess you’ve already made of yourself. He sucks your clit into his mouth, sucking at it hard and unrelenting. The sensation of it is almost too much, and your thighs clench around his head quickly, before Lando brings a hand up to grab at your inner thigh. He pulls you apart, keeping you spread for him as he licks and sucks and plays with you until you’re already shaking. He keeps you spread with only one of those strong hands, pressing his tongue harshly against your sensitive little clit, and you suddenly feel the thick presence of his other hand, a calloused digit sinking slowly, so slowly into your cunt.

“Lando, Lando, oh fuck, Jesus fucking Christ baby, it’s so- shit, it’s so,” you can hardly get the words out, especially as he crooks his finger up and presses it against your g-spot without any trouble. Lando groans against your clit, sinking yet another finger inside you along the first.

You should be used to it by now, after so long together, but every single time Lando fucks you, it’s like he’ll never get to do it again. He throws himself, his mind, body, his fucking soul, into only making you feel good. It’s nearly sacrilegious, how he worships you, praying with his tongue at the altar of your body.

But it’s not enough, not when you know how it feels when he’s inside, not when you’ve been thinking about his thick cock stretching you out until you feel like you’re about to break. You tangle a hand back into his hair, tugging him harshly away from your pussy. He keeps his fingers inside, spreading you apart as he looms over you, meeting your lips in a sticky kiss. His lips are sticky with your arousal, but you can’t bring yourself to care, gasping, “Please, baby, Lando fuck me, ‘m so empty, need to be filled up, need you to stuff me full.”

Lando grins, smug against you as he presses a third finger into your tight cunt, relishing in how your body jerks hard in response. “Just a little longer, baby,” he mutters, “Gotta make you cum first, right? Wanna feel this pretty pussy clench around my fingers, fuck baby, you’re so sexy. Want you to cum, princesa. Cum like you fucking deserve.”

You choke on a gasp as he hammers hard into you, overwhelmed tears filling your eyes as he abuses your g-spot with a practiced hand. You can feel your orgasm building inside, threatening to drown you in its severity, as Lando leans down again, whispering harshly, like it’s a threat, “Be a good little wife for me, baby, and cum. Now.”

And you can’t do anything but that, whining high as your pussy clenches and gushes all over Lando’s hand, your hips jerking wildly. Lando is murmuring little praises into your ear, but you can hardly hear him over the ringing in your head, the effort it takes to breathe properly again.

“You okay, my love? Need to stop?” Lando whispers, petting his hands across your thighs, calming, but your eyes snap open all the same.

“Lando, if you leave me here without getting fucked, I’m filing for divorce.”

Your statement shocks a quick laugh out of your husband, but he leans down to kiss you all the same. “So greedy” he murmurs into your mouth, and you giggle as he stands quickly, shucking his pants and boxers off before kneeling between your spread legs again.

You gasp softly as he notches the head of his cock against the entrance of your abused cunt, winding your arms around his neck to tug him close. He presses in slowly, agonizingly slow, and you gasp against his mouth.

You’ve had Lando for over a year now, but taking his cock always feels like the first time, all over again. He groans so lowly it almost sounds like a growl, holding your hips up to meet him as he finally bottoms out inside you. So deep he feels like he’s in your fucking stomach.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he groans over you, his eyes clenched shut. He draws his hips out and shoves back in quickly, and you can’t do anything but gasp wetly, nails digging into his shoulders as he breaks you open around his cock. “So tight for me, always so fucking perfect.”

“So big, Lando,” you slur dazedly. “Stretching me out so good, it’s so fucking deep, baby.”

“You like me deep, baby? So deep I’m in your fucking guts? Gonna fill you up, princess, shit. Get through that fucking birth control, yeah? Get you,” he fucks into you again, hard, “get you fucking pregnant, sweetheart.”

“Oh God,” you whine, mind swimming with the overwhelming mixture of Lando over you, surrounding you, inside you. Fucking you full of him, enough to render your IUD useless, get you pregnant no matter what. “Fuck, Lando, please.” He works himself in and out of you, his thick hands holding onto your hips hard enough to bruise.

“You want it, baby? Want me to fuck a baby into this little pussy? Shit, you’re sucking me in baby, so fucking desperate for it.” He shifts closer, just a little, lifting your hips further into the air to throw you hard onto his cock, and he can’t miss your sweet spot like this. His perfect cockhead just jams into your g-spot at an angle like this, and Lando knows it. “My needy little wife, you wanna cum on this cock? C’mon, do it. Wanna see it baby.”

Tears are finally escaping, leaking slowly from your eyes as Lando fucks into you like only he can, practiced, harsh, unrelenting. You can faintly hear yourself babbling, a mixture of praises, and pleases, and Lando’s name. 

Lando brings a hand from your thigh to press a thick thumb to your over-sensitive clit, and you want to fucking scream. “C’mon baby, show me how good I’m giving you this cock. Show me how good I fuck this pretty pussy.”

“Yes, yes, yes, it’s so good, it’s so fucking good, gonna cum, oh god, gonna give you a baby, Lan, oh god, oh my fucking god-” you gasp, unable to get a full breath into your lungs before you’re cumming again, nails digging hard enough into Lando’s back that there will be marks, marks that Lando will tease you about later when he looks in the mirror, but you can’t care. Not when it feels like your body is on a live wire, muscles and nerves strung taught and pulled apart.

“Just like that, sweet girl,” Lando groans above you, his hips stuttering into you. “Fuck, just like that, so fucking tight for me. Fuck, you’re mine,” he mutters, barely even speaking to you at this point. “Can’t believe you’re fucking mine, mine forever.” 

He’s lost in it, muttering to himself, and you tug him down, trying to ground him back to Earth against your lips as you whisper, “yours.”

Lando kisses you hard as he cums, emptying himself inside you. He wraps you in his strong arms, the both of you shaking softly against each other as you breathe through the aftershock of both your orgasms. He slips out of you at one point, and Lando takes the opportunity to roll you onto your sides. It’s quiet between the both of you for a few minutes as you brush a hand through Lando’s sweaty curls, and he brushes a thumb over your cheek, wiping any tears away.

“Love you so much, Lando,” you whisper after a while, and Lando smiles wide, wider than he ever had before he met you.

“I love you too, baby, thank you for my birthday gift.”

[racetowrite]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Carlos x reader smut where the reader hasn’t really had good experiences in the past so Carlos shows her how it should have been! If not I totally understand!! Thank you :)

Anxious

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Carlos Sainz x f!reader

Tags : trust dynamics, unprotected piv (pls wrap it up)

Word Count : 4k

You stood at the airport, anxiously waiting for Carlos to emerge from baggage claim. You had missed him deeply during his two races overseas, and the excitement of seeing him again warred with your insecurities. What if he thought you were too clingy waiting here for him? But as soon as you saw his familiar form appear from the crowd, all your doubts vanished. You couldn't help but smile widely as he waved, closing the distance between you in just a few strides.

Carlos reached you, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness to see you.

"You waited here for me, hermosa” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and appreciation. "I didn't expect you to come."

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he spoke. He didn't think you were too clingy after all. You reached out to hug him, suddenly feeling a wave of relief and comfort in his presence.

Carlos wrapped his arms around you, his embrace strong and grounding.

"I missed you so much," he murmured, his face buried in your hair. "These races were the longest two weeks of my life."

You could feel the truth of his words in the way he held you, in the way his fingers gently caressed your back. He truly had missed you as much as you had missed him.

You had missed him so much it felt like a physical ache. Every night you would toss and turn, the covers feeling too cold and empty without him beside you. You missed waking up to the sound of his breathing, the feel of his arm around your waist. You missed his smile, his laugh, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world who mattered to him. Every minute apart felt like agony, each second ticking by like an eternity in his absence.

Carlos gently took you by the hand and led you towards the garage of the airport. As you walked, he suddenly pulled you a little closer to him, wrapping his arm around your waist. He spoke in a low, soft voice, a hint of his Spanish accent lilting through his words.

"I have a surprise for you, mi amor” he said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. You looked up at him, curious and intrigued, wondering what he was planning.

As you reached the garage, Carlos let go of your hand and opened the door to his sleek, black Ferrari. He gestured for you to climb in, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"Get in," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I want to show you something”

You climbed into the passenger seat of the Ferrari, the buttery leather smooth under your fingertips. You turned to look at Carlos as he settled into the driver's seat, wondering where he was taking you.

Carlos started the car, the engine purring to life with a satisfying growl. He looked over at you, his gaze intense and heated, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

"Are you ready?" he asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You nodded, feeling a flutter of excitement in your stomach. You couldn't help but smile at his boyish enthusiasm, feeling the adrenaline already coursing through your veins.

Carlos grinned, the sight of your excitement fueling his own. He put the car into gear and peeled out of the garage, the speed pulling you back against your seat. The city lights blurred as Carlos drove, his hand on the gear shift, his eyes on the road. He navigated the streets like he owned the city, his movements smooth and confident. He didn't say much, but the smile never left his face, and you felt a sense of anticipation, like he was just waiting to reveal his surprise.

Carlos pulled up outside an elegant, modern apartment complex, a sly smile on his face.

"We're here," he announced, his voice low and smooth.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, wondering what he was up to. As he led you inside, you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "What are we doing here, Carlos?"

He looked at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I have something to show you," he replied, his tone almost mischievous.

You followed him into the apartment, your gaze immediately drawn to the stunning view of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The space was open and airy, filled with natural light and tastefully decorated.

Carlos walked over to a set of keys laid out on the kitchen counter. He picked them up and held them out to you.

"These are for you," he said, a glint of something fierce and possessive in his eyes.

You stared at the keys in Carlos's outstretched hand, your mind struggling to process what was happening. You had never expected this - your past relationships had been filled with disappointment and letdown, and you had begun to believe that no man would ever treat you right. But here was Carlos, giving you keys to a beautiful apartment like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise and disbelief. "You... you did this for me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos's gaze softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and resolve. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Of course, I did," he replied, his voice low and earnest. "You deserve to have a place that's just yours, where you can feel safe and comfortable. I want you to have a home, a place that's just as beautiful as you are."

Your heart ached at his words, the genuine sincerity in his voice making your throat tight with emotion. You had never had anyone treat you so tenderly, so considerately. It was overwhelming, too good to be true, but somehow, coming from Carlos, it felt perfect.

"I...I don't know what to say," you managed to stutter out, a lump in your throat.

Your eyesight blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. Your emotions were a tangled mess, gratitude, disbelief, and a profound sense of love fighting for dominance.

Carlos noticed your tears, and his expression softened even further. He stepped closer to you, his hand coming up to gently brush a tear away from your cheek.

"Don't cry," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "I just wanted to make you happy."

Carlos's heart skipped a beat as he watched tears stream down your face. He suddenly wondered if he had messed things up somehow. Maybe he had gone too far, maybe he had moved too fast. He stood there, his heart pounding in his chest, wondering if he had unwittingly hurt you.

"Hey, hey...please don't cry," he pleaded, his voice filled with concern. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, no, don't apologize," you reassured him between sniffles, your voice a little shaky from the tears. "You didn't upset me. It's just..."

You paused, trying to find the right words to express yourself. It was hard to put your feelings into words, especially when they were so intense, so overwhelming.

"It's just...no one has ever done something like this for me before," you finally managed to say, looking up at him through wet lashes.

Carlos's heart twitched in his chest as he heard your words. He suddenly understood why you were crying. It wasn't because he had done something wrong, but because he had done something right for once.

He reached for you, gently pulling you into his arms. "Oh, cariño," he murmured, his voice deep and warm. "You deserve so much more than what those other assholes gave you. You deserve to be pampered and cared for."

You buried your face in his chest, letting the tears continue to flow. He held you tightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, his presence grounding and comforting.

"No one else matters but you," he said, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "And from now on, I'll make sure you know how damn special you are."

You looked up at him, your eyes still wet with tears, but now there was something else in your gaze - hope, gratitude, love.

"I don't know how I ever met such a man like you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

Carlos smiled down at you, his eyes soft and warm. He gently brushed away the remaining tears from your face, his touch tender and caring.

"Hey, you didn't meet me, babe. I came in like a storm and swept you off your feet," he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Carlos gently pulled you close, his arms encircling you like a protective shield. He could see the past hurt lingering in your eyes, could sense that the memories of your past experiences were still weighing on you.

"Cariño," he started, his voice quiet but firm. "I want you to forget about everything that happened before we met. All those men who didn't treat you right, all those crappy relationships...I want you to forget all of it."

"You know," you began, your voice soft and contemplative. "I know we've only been together for a couple of months. And I know things are moving kinda fast. But the truth is..."

You looked up at Carlos, meeting his gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and conviction.

"I've never had someone treat me the way you do. This apartment, the way you care about me...it's everything I've always wanted but never thought I'd have."

Carlos listened intently as you explained the reason behind your overwhelming emotions.

He nodded, his expression a mix of understanding and determination. "I get it, love," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "I know I haven’t been with you for long, but I want to show you how it’s supposed to be. You deserve nothing but the best."

He smiled faintly, his hand caressing your cheek. "And just so we’re clear," he added, a hint of playfulness creeping into his tone, "I plan to keep spoiling you, whether it’s been a month or a year. You better get used to it, cariño."

You chuckled weakly, your heart simultaneously warmed and overwhelmed by his words. His determination to show you how a real man should treat a woman was both endearing and intimidating.

"You’re relentless, you know that?" you teased, trying to hide the flutter of your heart under a veneer of nonchalance.

Carlos grinned, looking unapologetic. "Who said you have to fight it? Just let me pamper you, cariño. I love seeing that smile on your face."

He cupped your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. "Just promise me one thing, though," he said, his tone suddenly a bit more serious.

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the change in his tone. "What is it?" you asked, curious what request he was going to make.

He looked at you intently, his eyes locked on yours. "Promise me you'll let me show you what it means to be cared for, respected, and loved," he said, his voice a low murmur. "And promise me you'll let me be the one to give you all of those things. Can you do that for me, cariño?"

Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling the weight and sincerity of his request. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy to forget the past, to trust fully in someone again. But looking into his eyes, seeing the earnestness and adoration there, made you want to try.

"I promise," you replied softly, your voice steady and sure. "I’ll let you show me what it means to be loved the way I deserve."

Carlos’s face broke out into a blinding smile, his whole demeanor brightening at your agreement. “Good,” he said, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “Because I plan to make you forget all about what ‘love’ used to mean, cariño. I’m going to show you the real deal.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head at his confidence. "You really think you can erase my past experiences with just a few months of dating me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Carlos’s eyes gleamed with determination and a hint of arrogance. “Hell, I’d give myself three weeks, max,” he replied, a cocky smirk on his face.

“But just to be safe, I’ll double that time frame. Four weeks, cariño, that’s all it’ll take to completely change your idea of how a relationship should work.”

You couldn’t help but laugh aloud at his bravado, finding his arrogant confidence strangely endearing. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” you teased, giving him a playful poke in the chest.

“Ridiculously charming, handsome, and damn good at what I do,” he replied, his smirk widening into a grin.

He caught your hand as you poked him again, using the opportunity to pull you closer to him. “You can doubt me all you want, cariño,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “But give me four weeks, and I promise you, you’ll be begging for more.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide the shiver that ran down your spine at his words. “Cocky much?” you muttered, but there was no heat behind your words.

He only chuckled, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “You love it,” he teased, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours.

“You’re insufferable,” you said, struggling to keep a straight face as his breath tickled your skin.

“Insufferably handsome,” he corrected, closing the distance and capturing your lips with a possessive kiss.

Despite Carlos's constant assurances and reassurances, you couldn't help but feel nervous about being intimate with him. It wasn't his fault, of course; he was patient and understanding, never forcing you into anything you weren't ready for. But deep down, you still carried the insecurities and doubts from your past relationships.

The thought of being vulnerable, of opening yourself up to someone again, frightened you. You worried that you wouldn't be enough, that he would get bored or unsatisfied.

Carlos was acutely attuned to your every gesture, your every reaction. As he kissed your neck, he felt you tense up inexplicably, a subtle shift in your body language. He pulled away instantly, sensing that something was wrong. He looked at you, his eyes searching your face.

"Cariño?" he asked, his voice soft with concern. "What's wrong?"

You tried to brush it off with a faint smile, but you knew he saw right through you. You averted your gaze, avoiding his intense stare.

"It's nothing," you mumbled, but even to your own ears, the words sounded dishonest.

Carlos didn't buy it for a second. He gently took your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "Don't give me that," he said, his voice stern but not unkind. "Something's bothering you. Talk to me, cariño."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. The thought of being intimately close with Carlos should feel exciting, blissful, not terrifying. But your past experiences still haunted you, their shadows cast over the present.

You couldn't shake the feeling that once he saw you without your clothes, once he saw all your flaws and imperfections, he would lose interest. It wasn't rational, you knew that, but the feelings were so deeply ingrained, so hard to ignore.

You tried to put on a brave face, to play it cool, but your body betrayed you. Your hands trembled slightly, and your pulse raced. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, giving away how nervous and insecure you truly felt.

Carlos noticed the subtle signs of your unease - the tremor in your hands, the flush of your cheeks - and his expression softened into one of understanding. He didn't push you, didn't make any suggestive comments. He just waited quietly, his eyes searching yours, giving you the space to voice what was on your mind.

Carlos studied you intently, seeing the mixture of desire and anxiety in your eyes. His heart clenched in his chest, a pang of pity for the pain and doubt that you had experienced in the past.

He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender and soothing. "Cariño," he started, his voice a gentle murmur. "Can I ask you something?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your throat suddenly feeling dry. You could sense the seriousness in his tone, knew that whatever he was about to ask was important. You nodded, your eyes never leaving his face.

"Promise me something first," Carlos said, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin. "Promise me you'll be honest with me, no matter what."

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. You didn't know where this conversation was going, but you trusted him. "I promise," you whispered, your voice a little shaky.

Carlos nodded, seeming satisfied with your response. He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering, as he spoke his next words.

"Will you let me show you how it’s supposed to be?" he asked, his voice low and intense.

Your heart fluttered at his question, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling in your chest. You wanted to say yes, wanted to give yourself over to him entirely. But the doubts still lingered in the back of your mind.

"I… I want to," you said, swallowing hard against the dryness in your throat. "But what if I disappoint you?"

Carlos's gaze softened, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and frustration. He took your face in his hands, his palms warm on your skin. "Cariño," he murmured, his voice firm but gentle, "you could never disappoint me. I see you, all of you, and I want you, every part of you."

Despite the time you had spent together, Carlos still couldn't quite wrap his mind around your patience and gentle nature. You were the soft to his rough, the kindness to his fast paced world.

He had expected you to grow impatient with his bad habits and tendency to push back, waiting for the moment when you'd finally had enough. But you never did in these couple of months. You stayed patiently by his side, always offering a calming presence and a gentle touch.

So now that he's got you all to himself for the first time, Carlos is afraid to scare you. That’s not to say he will only do strictly missionary, or slow, or anything like that, but Carlos knows he has preferences that would be too much.

Far too much.

Like the way he wants to fuck you so hard that his fingers leave bruises on your soft hips. How he wants to make you fucking cry from the pleasure, overwhelmed and trying to jerk your hips away from his brutal thrusts. But most of all, how he wants to wrap his hand around your pretty throat, wants to hear how your breathing cuts out while he fucks into your little pussy over and over again.

But he wants to make sure you feel safe, that you won’t get scared, or leave him like everyone else always seems to. It’s about you, and it’s about self-preservation. You’ve buried yourself under his skin, become an intrinsic part of him, and Carlos is sure that if you left now, he wouldn’t survive.

So tonight he fucks you carefully, in your brand new apartment, making sure you always feel good, because you always make him feel fantastic. He doesn’t need all of his filthy, primal fantasies met.

But sometimes, he can’t help but give in a little. Because Carlos knows, he has always been a selfish man.

You’re so good underneath him, soft and wet, pussy clutching desperately at his cock while he drives himself into you. Carlos can feel your back arching up off the bed with his hands on your waist, pretty voice wailing expletives and praises, and “oh, fuck Carlos, please. Fuck me harder, fuck, oh shit—”

And, almost absentmindedly, Carlos’s hand ghosts up to your throat, splaying a hand over it, feeling you swallow between your whines, your fluttering pulse. It would be so easy, so fucking easy for his fingers to just tighten—

“Carlos,” you suddenly whisper, far different from your pretty screams just moments earlier. Carlos’s hips stutter, his hand quickly trying to move from its place on your neck. But your hand wraps around his wrist, holding his hand where it is. His hand has gone limp, and he’s trying to hear, to smell if you’re scared, if he’s hurt you.

But your other hand goes up into his hair, forcing his head down next to yours as you whisper, heart beating obscenely fast, “I want you to choke me, Carlos. Please? Will you? I trust you.”

And Carlos nearly passes out then and there. You, sweet, loving, gentle you, want his hands around your neck, cutting off your breathing while he fucks you. He must have died, managed to get into heaven, something, because this is a fantasy, it has to be a fantasy.

“Are—are you sure, baby?” He manages to stutter out. “I don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”

But Carlos can practically feel the warmth of your smile, the comfort of your hand carding through his hair. “Of course I’m sure, Carlos. You won’t hurt me, I know it.” The hand on his wrist tightens, pushing his palm further onto your throat. “I trust you Carlos,” you murmur, “and I know I want you to choke me while you fuck me.”

Carlos’s mind goes blank.

His hand tightens around your throat, not restricting your breathing too much, but just enough that it’s just a little harder to get a full breath of air into your lungs. Strong, unyielding. Carlos’s hips slam into yours again, your pussy making obscene noises as his cock drives into your sticky cunt.

“Ah—” you barely manage to choke out, eyes clenched shut as he hits your sweet spot in only the way he can. Your legs tighten around his hips, the hand you had in his hair drifting down to his back, nails clutching into him as he fucks you like a bitch.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Carlos’s muttering. “Such a fucking slut, wanting my hand on your neck, baby.” Little, aborted whines are still escaping your throat, punched out of you while Carlos hammers into your pussy. “Been thinking about this for so long, fucking you like this, fuck. Wanted to choke out that pretty little voice, hear that heart beat so hard for me.”

Carlos’s big hand keeps clutching harder around your neck, and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe, until you can’t. You can’t fucking breathe, and Carlos is still fucking you so hard, and you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna cum—

Carlos can feel your pussy fluttering, needing to cum so bad. He can hear the moment your breathing cuts off as he leans down to whisper, “go ahead and gush around my cock, cariño.”

And your vision whites out for a moment, unable to scream with Carlos’s hand around your neck, just a choked, garbled sound escaping as you clench down hard around him.

Carlos can barely move with how tight you’re clutching him, how hot and wet you are, and he can’t hold back. He releases your throat, relishing in the way you suck air into your lungs around a gasp of his name, and shoots his cum deep into your pussy. It feels like he owns you, marking you as his, just as you own him.

You’re both breathing heavily as you cling to each other, trying to come down from absolute fucking ecstasy. Carlos is whispering little praises of, “you did so good, baby, so gorgeous, so mine,” and “thank you for letting me do that, hermosa.”

Carlos lays himself onto your chest, tucking his face into the crook of your neck while your hands run through his hair. Still so gentle, still so loving. Carlos presses little kisses onto your throat as you both drift off into soft, satisfied sleep.

[racetowrite]

Miami, baby

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Lando Norris x f!reader

Tags : slight edging, uprotected piv (fuck them kids)

Word Count : 3.2k

After years of painstakingly saving every penny, you finally had the chance to attend an F1 race. Today was the big day, your first-ever experience at an event filled with adrenaline and excitement. You wandered around, searching for some indication of where to go, when suddenly you accidentally bumped into someone.

He was moving with purpose, clearly rushing to get somewhere, and the impact was so significant that you stumbled and fell to the ground with a gasp.

You looked up, disoriented and a little dazed, to find yourself staring into a pair of intense green eyes. The man who had accidentally knocked you over appeared before you. He was tall, strong, and exuded an air of dominance and control. For a moment, the world seemed to move in slow motion as you gazed at him, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and concern, perhaps realizing that he had knocked you off balance. You weren't sure how to react, your body still feeling the impact of your fall. But then, he spoke, his voice deep and commanding yet gentle.

“Are you alright?” he asked, offering you a hand to help you stand up. His voice sent a shiver down your spine, the concern in his tone contrasting sharply with the authoritative quality he exuded.

Despite the confusion caused by the collision, you quickly realize that the person who helped you up is none other than Lando Norris, one of the most popular Formula One drivers on the grid.

Your eyes widen in recognition, but unlike other fans, you don't immediately erupt into a fit of screaming or gushing. Instead, your reaction is more subdued, a mixture of shock and reverence.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going," you apologize, your voice a little shaky. You're still feeling the aftershocks of bumping into such a famous figure, but you manage to maintain your composure.

"I'm glad I didn't hurt you badly," Lando replies, his tone still gentle despite the accident. He seems relieved that you aren't hurt, his gaze sweeping over you to make sure you're alright.

You offer him a grateful smile, still trying to process the fact that you're actually face-to-face with Lando Norris. "Thank you for helping me up," you say, your voice a little hoarse.

Lando is struck by how unlike other fans you are. You're not screaming, begging for a picture, or losing your composure. Instead, you're standing there, calm and collected, even after the unexpected collision. This catches his attention and intrigues him.

As he looks at you, he can't help but notice how beautiful you are. There's an innocence and purity in your expression that draws him in, making it difficult for him to look away.

His gaze becomes almost predatory, drinking in every detail of your features. He's captivated by your lack of hysterics and the way you're handling yourself in his presence. Lando is used to fans becoming tongue-tied and overwhelmed in front of him, but you seem completely unfazed.

You realize that the clock is ticking, and the qualifying session is about to start. You hesitate for a moment, knowing that it's time to part ways. You offer Lando a smile and say, "Well, it was nice meeting you, and good luck in the qualifying."

Lando's expression changes slightly. He doesn't want this encounter to end just yet, and the thought of you leaving his side gives him an unpleasant feeling. Without thinking, he finds himself saying, "Wait, why don't you come watch from my box?"

"You could have a better view from there," he adds, hoping that you'll agree to his invitation. Lando doesn't want to admit it out loud, but the idea of having you near him, cheering him on, is strangely appealing.

You feel a pang of guilt as Lando invites you to the McLaren box. You're aware of how expensive those tickets can be, and you don't want to impose or be a burden. But at the same time, you're oddly touched by his invitation, and you can't bring yourself to outright refuse.

Instead, you try to brush off his concern, saying, "Oh, you really don't owe me anything. You didn't knock me that badly, I'm fine."

Lando is taken aback by your response. He’s used to people jumping at the chance to be nearby, especially women who usually throw themselves at him. But you're different. You're not flustered or falling over yourself to accept his invitation. Instead, you brush it off, telling him he doesn’t owe you anything.

For Lando, it's a novel, exhilarating feeling. He finds himself strangely captivated, more intrigued by this unexpected exchange than by any race he’s ever competed in.

Your indifference piques his interest even more. He's suddenly feeling challenged, like he's faced with a puzzle he needs to solve. No one has ever rejected his offer, let alone so nonchalantly. It's frustrating, but in a strangely addictive way. Lando can't help but find himself fascinated by this interaction, his mind more focused on you than on the impending race.

Lando's mind is racing, trying to find a way to keep the interaction going. He doesn't want to let you walk away, not yet. Thinking quickly, he comes up with an excuse.

"Hey, listen," he says, his tone slightly casual, "You should give me your number. Just in case, you know, if you need anything or... something like that."

You can't help but let out a soft laugh at Lando's insistence. You find yourself touched by his concern, but also amused by his persistence.

"Seriously, I'm fine," you assure him again, your voice filled with a hint of humor. "You didn't knock me down that badly. I'm not some damsel in distress, you know."

Lando can't help but chuckle a little at your playful response. He's never met someone so unfazed by his presence, someone who actually has a sense of humor.

“Yeah, I guess you’re not,” he replies, his tone becoming more relaxed. "But still, I'd feel better if I had a way to check up on you. Just in case."

Despite your earlier protests, you can't argue with Lando's insistence. There's something earnest in his tone, a genuine concern for your well-being that’s hard to ignore. Reluctantly, you find yourself agreeing.

"Alright, fine," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You can have my number if it'll make you feel better."

Lando's face lights up at your words. He hadn't expected you to give in so easily, but he can't deny the feeling of victory that floods through him. With a satisfied grin, he pulls out his phone and hands it to you.

"Great, beautiful. Put your number in here."

As you hand back his phone, your fingers briefly touch, and Lando feels an unexpected spark of electricity shoot through him at the contact. Just before you say goodbye, Lando suddenly hesitates, looking at your tousled hair. With a sly grin, he takes off his signature cap and places it on top of your head, adjusting it slightly so it sits comfortably on you.

"Wear this. Maybe it'll bring me luck," he grins. "And make sure you're cheering for me, okay?"

You can't help but feel a sudden rush of warmth at the gesture. The cap feels oddly comfortable on your head, like a piece of Lando is somehow with you now. You offer him a small smile, your fingers gently touching the cap.

"I'll be your biggest cheerleader," you promise, a hint of amusement in your voice. "Good luck, Lando."

Lando heads off to the McLaren garage, his thoughts whirling in his mind. Although he should be focused solely on the upcoming qualification, he can't keep his thoughts off you. Your nonchalant attitude, your lack of fangirling, and the way you've agreed to give him your number - it all leaves him slightly off-kilter.

He tries to shake off the distraction, to concentrate on his car and his performance. But the image of your smile, and the feeling of your touch, linger in his mind, making it difficult for him to fully immerse himself in the usual pre-qualification anticipation.

Lando quickly snaps out of his thoughts, though. He knows he needs to get in the zone. He puts on his driving gear, his mind focusing on the qualifying ahead, pushing you out of his mind. But even as he does so, his heart beats a little faster than usual, eager to impress you, the mysterious girl who captured his attention from a simple accident.

After placing p1 in qualifying, Lando's heart is still racing with adrenaline. He's thrilled with his performance, but there's something else he's excited about. He remembers the promise you made, that you would be there cheering him on.

As soon as he has a moment, Lando pulls out his phone and types out a quick message to you: "Hey, I placed p1. See you tomorrow at the race, yeah?"

Lando hits send on the message, but a moment later, he realises he's forgotten something crucial. He doesn't know your name. This thought sends a pang of frustration through him. How could he have forgotten to ask for your name?

With a small sigh, Lando types another message, this time asking, "By the way, I never got your name."

Lando's attention is now fully focused on his phone, waiting anxiously for your response. When your text comes through, he's slightly surprised.

"Y/N," he repeats to himself, testing out the name in his mind. "I like it."

He's about to reply when he sees you mention that you'll be watching him tomorrow. A sense of satisfaction and anticipation fills him, knowing you'll be there in the stands, cheering him on.

Lando sends a quick reply: "Can't wait. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

“I promise to be there.”

He can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing you again, in the stands, cheering just for him. The thought of impressing you with his race only fuels his determination to win even more.

The day of the Miami Grand Prix arrives, and Lando is filled with a mix of excitement and determination. As he steps into his car, he can't help but think of you, a silent motivator in his mind. The race is intense, a chaotic whirlwind of speed and strategy. But Lando's focus is unwavering, thanks to the thought of you in the stands, watching him, cheering him on.

As he crosses the finish line, first place, Lando feels a rush of triumph. He's won his first Grand Prix, right in front of you.

Lando's heart is pounding as he climbs out of the car, the sounds of the crowd and the congratulations of his team a blur around him. All he can think of is finding you in the stands, seeing your reaction to his win. Lando quickly finds his way to the stands, searching for you amidst the sea of fans. And when he spots you, his heart stutters for a moment. You're standing there, a wide smile on your face, and the sight of you makes his victory even sweeter.

Lando is floating on a cloud of triumph.

The whole time, from the interviews to the celebration, Lando's gaze keeps flicking to the crowd, looking for you. Every time he locks eyes with you, a wave of excitement washes over him, making his victory even more meaningful.

Land of has to go through the usual routine after the race - interviews, press conferences, team debriefs. By the time he's finally free, it feels like hours have passed.

He hurries to the McLaren garage, his heart racing with anticipation. When he spots you outside, he feels a mix of relief and excitement. He quickly walks over to you, a wide smile on his face.

"You waited," Lando says, a hint of surprise and gratitude in his voice. He's still in his race suit, dusted with champagne and the exhaustion of the race. But he's too excited to see you to care about how he looks. You smile back at him, the sight of his boyish grin warming your heart.

"I promised, didn't I?" You reply, your tone light.

He takes a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "That you did," he nods, his eyes dancing with a mixture of adrenaline and amusement. He looks around, suddenly aware of the curious glances from the crew and other drivers. He grabs your hand and leads you away from the crowd, to a more secluded spot.

Lando's hand encloses around yours, and a small shock of electricity shoots through you at the sudden contact. You're surprised at how warm his hand is, how firm his grip is. It's a simple touch, a brief moment of skin against skin, but it leaves you feeling a bit flushed.

You look up at Lando, who's still leading you along, and see a hint of a smirk on his lips. He's aware of the effect his touch has on you, but you're unaware that he's equally affected.

The night progresses, and somehow, you end up in Lando's hotel room, the adrenaline from the race still coursing through his veins. As the door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts, a charged tension filling the air.

Lando looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. He steps closer, his proximity making your heart race in your chest. The space between you feels electric, the air between you taut with desire.

Lando doesn’t wait any longer. He moves closer, his hand cupping your cheek, his gaze burning into yours. "I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you," he murmurs, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine.

A couple of hours later, Lando feels like he’s in heaven.

Your head has been between his thighs for what has to be an hour now, his hand buried in your pretty hair, dragging your lips up and down his dripping cock. From the position, you on your knees beside your shared bed while he sits atop it, Lando fucking your face, it seems like he has all the power. But he knows better. He knows you’re letting him do this; that you, even with your bruised knees and puffy lips, have control over him. Over his mind, his body, his fucking soul.

“Baby, baby, please let me cum,” he whimpers into the quiet of the room, the only sounds echoing in his ears are his little grunts and moans and your obscene slurping around the length of him. “Can’t hold it anymore, y’feel so good, sweetheart.”

But you pull off his cock as soon as the words leave his lips, leaving him aching again. The whine he lets out is demeaning, embarrassing, but you wrap your hand around his cock, jacking him slowly while Lando hears you giggle softly.

“Are you gonna cum before you’ve even gotten my pussy?” You’re teasing him, you’ve been teasing him for the past few hours since you’ve been in his hotel room “Come on baby, you want to be inside me? You’ve been so good.”

Lando nods frantically, unthinking and delirious. “Please, please let me have you baby? I need it so bad. Please sweetheart, ple-”

“lay back for me?” And Lando shoves himself backward, laying himself onto the soft silk sheets. He barely has a chance to prepare himself before you’re standing and straddling him, working the tip of his cock into your dripping cunt.

And Lando knows, he knows, that this is the closest he’ll get to heaven. You moan as you sink down onto him, tight pussy clenching as you work your hips, and Lando almost rips a hole into the sheets with the effort not to thrust up into you, not to fucking cum inside you, right then and there. He’s mumbling nearly incoherently, little praises of “Baby, your pussy feels so good, you’re so tight, so fucking warm, god.”

And you can’t help but think how pretty Lando looks, all flushed and red, nipples still puffy from how you played with them hours earlier, chest heaving with his labored breaths. You rock your hips against him, running your nails down his chest as Lando chokes on a moan.

“You’re so good, baby,” you say, and Lando keens under the praise. “Your cock is so big. Fills me up so good. You stuff me so full, Lan.”

“Please” Lando groans, lips red and puffy from his biting.

“What, baby,” you ask, leaning down to nuzzle under his jaw, leaving soft kisses on his sensitive neck. You’re still grinding your hips, his balls and thighs all sticky from your sopping pussy.

“What do you need, Lan?”

“I need, I need-” Lando stutters, struggling to take a breath. “I need to fuck you baby. Oh god, please, please let me fuck you? Need it so bad.”

Lando knows that it's a long shot, that you could easily refuse him, and he’d let you, just as he’s been letting you refuse him for hours. But you grin between the kisses you’re leaving on his neck, your hips finally coming to a stop. “You’ve been so good. You’ve won the race. Come on, baby, you can fuck me.”

Lando doesn’t need to be told twice.

He tries not to mourn the loss of you around his cock as he slips out of you, quickly rolling you over. He slots himself between your spread thighs, shoving himself back into your gaping cunt, relishing in the pretty moan you let out. Lando’s eyes roll into the back of his head, a sharp gasp escaping his throat at the overwhelming heat of you.

He bucks into you uncontrollably, slamming into your pretty cunt with reckless abandon. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, hips working endlessly into you, balls slapping against your ass as he mouths at your soft skin.

Your nails are digging into his back as he ruts into your pussy, punching little ah, ah, ahs, out of your chest with every thrust.

You clench so fucking tight around his cock when you cum, a garbled “Lan, fuck, oh god-” leaving your lips as your hips shake and your vision goes white.

Lando is just babbling feverishly into your neck, a long string of “Thank you, thank you, oh god. Love your pussy, thank you for giving me your pussy, you make me feel so good, shit-” and he’s cumming, thick cum shooting deep into your pussy, all while he thanks you.

He doesn’t let you go for a long time, his strong arms wrapped around you as he twitches with the aftershock of his orgasm. You run a calming hand down his back, lightly tracing his scars while you wait for him to breathe normally again. You praise him softly, whispering into his hair, “You did so good, Lando. Made me feel so good baby, you’re so perfect.”

After a few minutes, Lando pulls you closer, his arms encircling you, his body warm and solid against yours. He buries his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.

"You're the real win this weekend," he murmurs, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "I might have won the race, but finding you, this moment with you...that's what really matters. And I'm not letting you go now that I've found you."

[racetowrite]

hi! can you make a list of all your works, pretty please? cause that will make it a lot easier 😥

Hi, beautiful! 🌸

I totally understand, and thank you for your patience! The master list is now posted, and you can find it pinned at the top of my blog. I hope it makes it easier to navigate through all my stories! Let me know if you need anything else 💖

Andreea

[racetowrite]

Andreea’s Master List

Hi there, and thanks for stopping by! Just a heads-up: requests are currently OPEN.

Here, you'll find all my works, along with links to other stories. Please be aware that the majority of the stories I write may be rated 18+, so this space is not for minors. Consider this your fair warning!

I focus on fem!self-insert writing, exploring a variety of themes and kinks, so please be sure to read the tags for each story. I avoid using “y/n,” and I aim to keep the reader’s appearance as neutral and inclusive as possible for your immersive experience.

If you enjoy what I do, consider supporting a disabled creator here ♿️

🏎️ Max Verstappen 🏎️

The First Time - Max Verstappen x Reader

Control - Max Verstappen x Reader x Charles Leclerc

Punishment - Max Verstappen x Reader x Lando Norris x Nico Hulkenberg

Praise - Max Verstappen x Reader

Slow - Max Verstappen x Reader

Work for It - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader x Max Verstappen x Carlos Sainz

Secret - Max Verstappen x reader

🏎️ Lewis Hamilton 🏎️

Hunger - Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Rushed - Lewis Hamilton x Reader

🏎️ Lando Norris 🏎️

On the Edge - Lando Norris x Reader

Needy - Lando Norris x Reader

Devoted to You - Lando Norris x Reader

Miami, baby - Lando Norris x Reader

Punishment - Max Verstappen x Reader x Lando Norris x Nico Hulkenberg

Gift - Lando Norris x Reader

The boiling point - Lando Norris x Reader

🏎️ Carlos Sainz 🏎️

On a Hurry - Carlos Sainz x Reader

Special Sweater - Carlos Sainz x Reader

Work for It - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader x Max Verstappen x Carlos Sainz

Anxious - Carlos Sainz x Reader

🏎️ Oscar Piastri 🏎️

Brat - Oscar Piastri x Reader

🏎️ Daniel Ricciardo 🏎️

Work for it - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader x Max Verstappen x Carlos Sainz

Let me love you - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

🏎️ Charles Leclerc 🏎️

Control - Max Verstappen x Reader x Charles Leclerc

🏎️ Nico Hulkenberg 🏎️

Punishment - Max Verstappen x Reader x Lando Norris x Nico Hulkenberg

[racetowrite]

Devoted to you

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Lando Norris x f!reader

Tags : overstimulation, safe word, uprotected piv (fuck them kids), afab!fem!reader

Word Count : 2.9k

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself surrounded by the comfort of Lando's strong arms. The warm sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. You snuggle closer to him, relishing in the feel of his body against yours.

Lando stirs slightly as you move against him, and he slowly opens his eyes, a drowsy smile on his face. He pulls you closer, his hand resting on your waist.

"Morning beautiful," he greets you, his voice rough with sleep. "How did you sleep?"

You hum contentedly, snuggling into his chest. "Better now that you're here," you reply, a soft smile on your lips.

He chuckles softly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the bare skin of your back.

"Good, because I missed holding you like this, this month has been crazy without you” Lando says, nuzzling his face into your hair.

You bask in the comfort of Lando's embrace, feeling your body melt into his as he pulls you even closer. You missed this, missed the easy intimacy and the way you always fit perfectly against each other.

"I missed you too, you know," you reply, your voice a soft murmur. "It felt like this month went on forever without you here."

Lando's arms tighten around you at your words, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "I know, I know," he says, his voice filled with regret. "It sucked being away this long."

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair.

He inhales deeply, taking in your scent. "You're so much better than any race," he teases, his lips curving into a crooked smile.

You laugh softly at his words, playfully swatting his chest. "Oh, stop it. You'll make me blush," you retort, though a small blush does indeed color your cheeks.

"Besides, if you really feel that way, you should consider retiring and becoming my personal pillow instead."

Lando grins at your response, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Are you suggesting I give up my high-speed career to become a professional cuddler instead?" he teases, pulling you even closer against him.

"Something like that," you reply with a laugh. "I mean, you're pretty good at it. Plus, think of all the extra sleep you'd get."

You prop yourself up on one elbow, looking down at him with a mischievous smile. "And I'd have you all to myself. It's a win-win situation, if you ask me."

Lando pretends to mull it over, feigning a serious expression as he caresses your cheek with his fingers.  “Hmm, you make a valid point. Being a professional cuddler does sound pretty enticing…“

He grins, pulling you back down on top of him so that you’re draped over his chest. “And the idea of having you all to myself sounds even more enticing.”

For the last month while Lando was away racing, you had found yourself constantly missing his presence. You longed for his comforting smile, his infectious laughter, and the warmth of his embrace. Every night, you counted down the days until he would return.

During this time, you had also been contemplating asking him if you could start attending his races in the paddock. You had been together for 6 months now and yet you had never been to a race before.

The idea of seeing him in his element, surrounded by the fast-paced world of Formula 1, both excited and intimidated you. But you knew how much it would mean to both of you if you were there to support him in person. 

As the days passed, the desire to ask him grew stronger. You mentally rehearsed what you would say, trying to find the right words to express how much you cared about his passion and wanted to be a part of it.

Lando, still holding you tightly, notices the contemplative look on your face. "What's on your mind, love?" he asks gently, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your bare back.

You chew on your bottom lip thoughtfully, contemplating how to bring up the topic that’s been on your mind. “Well, I was just wondering…,” you begin, your voice a little hesitant. “I was thinking maybe I could come to your races in the paddock…if you wanted me there, that is.”

Lando’s eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and pleasure flashing across his face. He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“You want to come to the paddock?” he repeats, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Really?”

You nod, a nervous smile on your lips. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice gaining a bit more confidence. “I know we haven’t discussed it before and you might have your reasons for not wanting me there, but…I just really want to be a part of your racing world. I want to see you in your element, to support you in person.”

As you continue talking, a sudden insecurity washes over you. Doubt begins to creep into your mind, making you question whether Lando would even want you there.

You anxiously nibble on your bottom lip, your tone becoming more hesitant. “I mean, if you think I’d be a distraction or if it would be too much pressure… I totally understand if you’d rather I stay away…”

Lando immediately notices the change in your demeanor. He pulls you even closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Hey, no…look at me,” he says firmly, making sure you meet his gaze.

He searches your eyes, his expression earnest. “You’re not a distraction, sweet girl. You could never be. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay away. Your support means the world to me.”

Lando’s eyes soften as he sees the uncertainty in yours. He understands your hesitation and wants to assure you that it has nothing to do with his feelings. He gently strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t want you there. That’s not true at all,” he says, his voice genuine and affectionate. “The truth is, I didn’t bring it up because… I was worried about you getting overwhelmed.”

He sighs softly, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “The paddock can be chaotic and intense. There are so many people, cameras, the media… I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed by it all. I wanted to protect you, to shield you from that side of my world.”

His gaze meets yours, his expression earnest. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you there. I would love to have you by my side, cheering me on. You have no idea how much that would mean to me. I just didn’t want you to feel pressured or to feel like you had to put yourself in a situation that might make you uncomfortable.”

He caresses your cheek again, his touch gentle and reassuring. “But if you truly want to come, if you’re sure you’re ready for it, then you have my full support. Just promise me you’ll tell me if it gets to be too much, okay? “

He leans closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I only want you to be comfortable, love. I care about you too much to let you feel anything other than that.”

Despite Lando’s reassurances and the warmth of his embrace, you can’t shake off a lingering insecurity. You miss him terribly, and a part of you wants to let him know just how much.

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you hesitate, afraid that you’ll come off as clingy or needy. You don’t want him to think you’re dependent on him, or worse, that you’re being too clingy.

Your gaze flickers downwards, fixated on his bare chest, unable to meet his eyes. “Lando…” you begin, your voice soft and hesitant. “I know it’s only been a month, but I…I missed you so much while you were away.”

As the words leave your lips, a pang of vulnerability washes over you. You can feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety, afraid of how he’ll react to your admission.

You continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know it probably sounds silly, but it was just really hard without you. I missed waking up to your smile, being surrounded by your warmth, hearing your voice…”

You bite down on your bottom lip, mentally chastising yourself for blurting all this out. But now that you’ve started, it feels like a dam has burst, and all of your feelings are pouring out.

Lando notices the shift in your tone and the way you avoid looking at him. He immediately understands the gravity of your words. They’re not just a simple statement of missing someone; they’re a confession born out of vulnerability and raw emotion.

His grip on you tightens, his body responding to your confession. He gently coaxes your chin up so that you meet him gaze, his eyes searching yours intently.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice soft yet authoritative. He needs to see your face, to gauge the depth of your emotions. When your eyes finally meet his, Lando sees the mixture of vulnerability and insecurity in your gaze.

He can see the storm of emotions roiling beneath the surface, and it breaks his heart a little. He knew you missed him; of course you did. But the depth of your longing is more intense than he had realized.

Lando leans closer, his touch gentle yet possessive. “You have no idea how much I missed you, do you?” he says, his voice laced with a tinge of sadness. “I ached for you every night. I couldn’t sleep without you, couldn’t focus on anything but counting down the days until I could hold you again.”

Lando’s eyes darken with a primal possessiveness, his voice dropping an octave. “I missed waking up to the feel of your soft skin against mine. I missed the smell of your hair, the sound of your voice… You have no idea how much I need you, love.”

He moves closer to you, his body pressed against yours as he whispers the next words against your ear. “I need you to know that you’re mine. Every inch of you belongs to me, and I’m never letting you go.”

His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips possessively. He needs to feel you against him, to remind himself that you’re real and that you’re his.

“You’re mine. You got that?” he asks, his voice a velvet-edged command. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Yes, you are. All mine.”

He dips his head, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck and trailing kisses along the exposed skin.

A couple of hours later, you can’t really tell how many orgasms you’ve had by this point.

Lando had started between your thighs, eating your pussy like a man starved, sucking at your clit until you had soaked his face not once, but twice.

He’d barely given you a change to breathe through the aftershocks before he had sunk two of his thick fingers into you, under the guise of stretching you out for his cock. But you know better. You know because he had immediately sought out your g-spot, pressing into it and chuckling like a bastard when you gasped and your hips twitched.

He’d worked you through two orgasms like that, his two fingers turning into three.

Your mind had already been hazy, your vision slightly blurred when he had sunk his cock into you. You were already so sensitive, and the way he had pounded unrelentingly into your g-spot had made it fucking worse. You had sobbed, hips twitching hard, but Lando held you steady, telling you how good you were. Telling you to cum on his cock. Telling you to cum again. 

And you had, clenching around him hard as you shook in his arms. He floods your pussy with his cum not long after that, and you breathe hard, exhausted and ready to wrap yourself around your boyfriend as you sleep like the dead.

But Lando pulls out of you and you feel his cum leak out of your sensitive pussy. And he takes those thick fingers that you hate to love, and pushes it back in.

He stuffs his cum back into your abused entrance, pressing two fingers into you all over again, and you want to scream when he presses them against your g-spot.

“Lando, ah, ‘s too sensitive. I’m so fucking, so fucking sensitive baby,” you whimper, hips attempting to jerk away, but Lando keeps a strong hand pressed to your lower stomach, holding you still as he plays with your messy cunt. 

“C’mon gorgeous, you can give me another one. So good, so pretty, you gotta give me another one,” he mutters, his muscles bulging as he works his fingers into you, ruthless and unrelenting.

He feels it when you cum again, your pussy fluttering softly, and he smiles. “Good girl, baby. Good fucking girl. Another, c’mon. Another.”

You can only whine, tears slowly leaking down your puffy face. You can’t cum again, you can’t. The last one had hurt, a little bit, your stomach cramping up. It feels like he’s ripping orgasms out of you at this point, forceful and violent. He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t feel it the way you do. They’re not good orgasms anymore, there’s no satisfaction, only aching.

He leans down to pepper kisses under your jaw, soft pecks that are usually a source of comfort, but not now. Not now. He’s still playing with your g-spot, his thumb rubbing hard circles into your clit. You’re numb, but your body still clenches up involuntarily with another orgasm, and oh god, it hurts.

You’re whining high in the back of your throat, little mutters of “too much, ‘s too much Lan-, oh fuck,” whispered between you both. But he isn’t stopping, doesn’t show any plans of stopping anytime soon, and another orgasm wracks your body, feeling like you’ve been struck by lightning. 

“Red, red, Lando, oh god, red,” you gasp, barely able to fucking breathe. You want to sob in relief when you feel his fingers immediately leave your puffy, abused cunt, but you immediately want to mourn again as his heavy body lifts off of you. His thick hands leave you, leaving you suddenly cold, and you whimper softly.

“Hey, hey,” Lando’s gruff voice filters into your ear, close to your face, but keeping his distance, not taking the chance of touching you when you don’t want it. “Hey, baby, are you hurt? Are you hurting anywhere?” You try to answer, but no sound comes out, your throat sticky and choked. “Just one word, baby, yes or no. Are you hurt?”

“No,”  you mutter, your voice breathy and ruined to your own ears. “Just,” you cough, “hold me?” 

Lando doesn’t hesitate, moving next to you and gathering you up against his naked body, his warm skin a comfort against yours. He’s a little sticky with sweat, but you know that you’re even stickier. You feel wrung dry, the area between your thighs too tacky with a mixture of you and Lando. You’ll need a shower later, but you content yourself with just breathing in Lando’s scent, warm and musky, with a hint of his woodsy deodorant. 

He holds you against him like you’ll disappear, tracing his fingers up your spine as you sync your breathing with his. Neither of you speak, simply existing together as you come back to yourself. You’re not sure how much time passes, only that Lando holds you steady, strong and unyielding in only the way that he can be.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble against his chest, and Lando jerks suddenly, arms hugging you tighter.

“No, baby,” he says, so vehement that you giggle softly. “You never apologize for using the safe word, okay?” You feel his hand come up to nudge your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I am so, so glad you felt safe enough to use it, okay? That took a lot of strength, and I am so proud of you.”

You can’t help how your eyes start to burn at his words, and you desperately want to bury yourself inside of this beautiful, strong, understanding man, and never come out.

“What happened, sweet girl? Just so I don’t do it again, okay? I just need to know,” he whispers, voice cracking just a little bit, and it breaks your heart. You lean up to press a comforting kiss against his lips.

“Just because I can cum multiple times Lando, doesn’t mean I should, okay handsome?” you croak out, and you watch Lando’s brows furrow. 

“You get so hyper-focused on making me cum, baby, and even though that is like, every girl's dream, it starts to hurt after a while, you know?” Lando nods at your explanation, and you smile softly at him.

“You are so, so good in bed baby, but my body can’t really handle that many orgasms back to back. Maybe we can keep it to a maximum of four?”

Lando smooths his hand over your cheek before cupping the back of your head, guiding you into a soft kiss. “Okay, baby, four it is,” he mumbles into your mouth, and you giggle in response, bringing one of your hands up to brush a thumb over his stubbly cheek. 

“I love you Lando,” you whisper, and Lando whimpers softly, almost like he’s relieved.

“I love you too baby, so much. So fucking much,” he says against your lips. He kisses you softly, again and again, chaste and warm and loving.

“You’re too good to me, Lando Norris.”

[racetowrite]

Can you write about Max coming from a race late at night and he finds his girlfriend sleeping peacefully at their house he is really needy but she is sleeping so he wakes her up and wanting to fuck her but she refuses saying she is tired so he fucks her thighs instead !!!!!! I know it’s long but please please please

Slow

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Max Verstappen x f!reader

Tags : thigh fucking, unprotected piv(fuck them kids), needy!max

Word Count : 1.5k

Max had just come off a grueling Formula 1 race, and he couldn't shake the feeling of exhaustion that had settled into his bones.

But above all, he missed you terribly.

It had been two weeks since he'd seen you, and the absence gnawed at him like a relentless hunger. Despite the race and its demands, Max's thoughts had often drifted to you, imagining how it would be to hold you in his arms again.

Max found himself increasingly touch-starved, missing the warmth of your embrace and the feel of your skin against his own. The race had taken a toll on him physically but being without you had left an even deeper ache in his heart. As he approached the bed where you slept, the desire to hold you close, to feel your body against his, grew almost overwhelming.

Despite knowing you’re asleep, Max can't resist the urge to touch you, and he quietly approaches the bed. Max moans loudly as he hugs you from behind, unintentionally pressing his throbbing erection against your plump backside. He buries his face into your neck, breathing deeply and trying to stifle his groans. He doesn’t want you to think he only wants physical contact with you as a way for it to lead to sex.

It’s a problem though, because even if he didn’t have a boner he’d definitely get one instantly from hugging you. He just can’t help it. 

He holds you tightly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buries his face in your neck. He inhales deeply, breathing in your scent and trying to calm himself down. But as he holds you, he can't help but press his body closer, his erection still evident against your backside.

As Max presses himself against your back and you slowly regain consciousness, you can't help but feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you. It's late, and you're tired from a long day at work. While usually, you'd relish in the feeling of his strong arms around you, tonight, all you want to do is rest.

"Max," you murmur softly, your voice still thick with sleep. "I'm too tired tonight. Can we just go to sleep, please?"

You roll your eyes and it’s like he can feel the shift in your expression because he tuts and nips at your neck. 

“Ow!” You laugh, purposefully being a little more dramatic than you need to. 

“Shh, schatje” he kisses along your shoulder, slowly undoing your pyjama top and easing it off. “I didn’t bite you that hard.”

“Max…” 

He turns you around gently, grinning wickedly. But he stops and feigns a look of innocence when he sees your face. “What love? I’m just admiring you…”

You let out a sigh, feeling both amused and exasperated by his attempts to charm you. "You're not admiring me. You're trying to distract me from being tired," you retort playfully, unable to resist a small smile at his antics.

Max feigns shock, placing a hand over his heart. "And now you're accusing me of devious plans! I just want to appreciate my beautiful girlfriend, is that a crime?"

He leans in closer, his lips hovering just millimeters from your ear. "Besides, I missed you."

Despite your exhaustion, Max’s words melt away some of your resistance. You can’t deny that you missed him too. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “I missed you too, but I’m not in the mood for anything tonight,” you murmur, gently pressing your forehead against his.

Max nods, pushing you gently back towards the bed, “Schatje, I’m gonna make you cum, let me do what I know best.” 

You don’t even get to open your mouth to react before he’s pressing his lips to yours and sliding his tongue inside. He groans as he licks, one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the small of your back, pressing you close so he can feel your soft stomach and thighs against his body. His cock twitches, throbbing almost to the point of maddening pain as he feels your soft flesh. 

His hands shift, languidly teasing you; plucking at your nipples until they pebble under his fingers, dragging his tongue over yours until you’re following the movement of his lips desperately. 

Heat begins to build in your belly, sparking along your muscles. You rub your legs together absentmindedly, just trying to take off some of the ache.

Max chuckles when he notices, dipping his hand lower and squeezing your thigh before he presses his fingers at your cunt.

He groans at the wetness he finds there, rubbing his fingers together momentarily to marvel at the slipperiness before he lightly rubs your clit. 

You let out a soft moan, pulling at his shirt, “Maxie…”

“Mhmmm, schatje, I know,” he pushes you back against the bed and expertly pulls off his clothes in record time before he climbs on top of you.

“I need to sleep.” You pout, putting up the smallest insistence because you feel like you have to.

“If you don’t behave I’m going to tie you to the bed and not let you get sleep the whole night.” He mumbles, grinning cheekily as he pulls your left leg to his chest and kisses your ankle. You know the threat is empty, but your body squirms excitedly against him anyway.

“Oh? Maybe you want that actually, hmm?” 

You pull a face and he laughs, throaty and deep.

“I’ll wipe that look right off your face love, don’t worry.”

He takes hold of his thick cock, and shifts on his knees, inching closer to you so that he can rest his length against your folds. He hums in approval as his skin touches your heat and rocks against you, rubbing his hard cock and balls all over your slippery cunt. 

You squirm, swallowing as he moves languidly and buck up against him. 

“So greedy.” He tuts, grinning wildly knowing that if the positions were reversed he would be just as needy. 

Max takes hold of your other leg, squeezing your thick thigh and groaning before he places it against his chest as well. He presses them close so that your soft inner thighs squeeze his cock wonderfully. 

“Ah, that’s perfect, so good,” he groans, keeping a firm hand on your legs as he begins to move in earnest.

Long, slow thrust as he fucks your thighs, sliding up and along your pussy with every buck, smearing your slick and his precome all over your soft skin. 

“Fuck, yes,” his breath catches in his throat, his hips moving a fraction faster. 

You whimper, trying to bite back the sound so that you don’t overshadow the pretty sounds he's making. Your eyes glued to his face, his eyebrows pinched in tension, his mouth open in bliss. 

He groans again, low and feral, “Love, you’re so soft, so perfect, gonna make me come just like this.” He thrusts against you slowly, trying to drag out the sensation, make it last as long as possible before he has to succumb to the pleasure. 

He slides one hand down your thigh, squeezing until he reaches your plump hip and then squeezing even harder before he palms your soft belly, moaning at the feel of you under his fingers. 

“Fuck, I wanna fuck your thighs and come all over you, then I’m going to fuck you so hard you pass out” he gasps, low and soft, “wanna come all over you and in you, wanna lick you until you pass out from how good my tongue feels.”

He presses his thumb to your clit, alternating the pressure gently in time with the rhythm of his hips. 

You gasp, letting out a low whine at how desperate he sounds and how good he feels rubbing against you. Building that pressure deep in your stomach until you almost can’t breathe, can’t think or do anything except chase it practically sobbing. 

“fuck,” he bends forward slightly, groaning as he bites his lip. He wants to burn your expression into his eyelids so he can see it the second before he goes to sleep. 

It’s too much, too perfect, and the knot tightens to breaking point and beyond. He moans your name, low and deep in his chest as his hips buck twice, two sharp shudders before he comes. He splashes across your skin, hitting your stomach and thighs and core with a sob.

He looks so beautiful, like a blissed out angel staring at a god. 

For a moment he breathes deeply, resting his forehead against your leg, his eyes closed. 

You can’t help but smile at how sweet he looks, satiated and peaceful. 

That serenity is short lived however. 

Before you even have a chance to say his name Max is pressing at your inner thighs, spreading you wide and diving down to clean up the mess he made with his tongue against your pussy, sucking on your clit until you’re screaming and rubbing his cum into your belly and thighs. 

[racetowrite]

Praise

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Max Verstappen x Reader

Tags : praising, female f1 driver, rough kissing, biting

Word Count : 1k

Max is a humble, sweet man, you remind yourself.

But this same humble, sweet man has a spine of steel and is willing to bleed on track for a victory. All for all. Morality is a fluid concept when success is so close. It’s hard to convince yourself this probably configures as at least unbalanced when you remember how he battled you, the fire in his eyes, his raw speed.

It’s hard to care about the trouble that comes with a twenty six year old pilot wanting you this obviously - the Mercedess princess, the first woman to drive in Formula One.

He looks to you with those damning eyes of his, just as unrelenting as always, but brighter, wilder, harder. You could drown in the post-race adrenaline that radiates from him. Max doesn’t look drunk, reeking of podium champagne and nothing else, but there’re other ways to get intoxicated. He probably isn’t even thinking – you gave him a challenge on track, made him race rough, and you know he wants more.

It’d be a lie to say that this particular scenario hasn’t haunted you a little.

How could anyone resist the allure of a golden, martyrized boy with such a hunger for success?

You remember Bahrain, his restrained disappoint and how he made everyone eat dust until the fairytale was dismantled. In Melbourne, he’d been just another body slipping into those blue overalls, and one race later you’d felt it click in place. You’d seen him. And after you saw Max, it was impossible to stop staring.

Twitter claims it’s fishing for praise, empty glorifying, and you wish it was. You wish this was a stunt.

Because, if it were, when he lowers his gaze to your mouth, ethereal with those long lashes and soft face, and licks his own lips, you would be able to not kiss him. If it were, you’d not grab his slender waist and pull him against you and kiss the familiar taste of champagne from his too eager tongue. If it were, you wouldn’t want this so much.

He groans against your mouth and presses even harder, nails digging into your neck to push harder. It’s Max all over, dreamy and soft and innocently boyish until his blood boiled and he found himself wanting more. You love it. As much as the challenge annoys you, as much not being able to catch him because less than a second annoys you, this is different. And it’s better.

You want him wild. You want him so much.

Max is very aware of this.

He breaks the kiss too soon, but he’s breathing hard anyway, clinging to you, making you feel every inch of his body. Fireproofs may hide little – you’re just a little ashamed to say that you’ve stared a lot over the months, fuck the age gap you have with him, you know you’re too young for him, but fuck it–, but this is something else; it’s the outline of his cock against your thigh and his chest against yours and his mouth just there. It’s just too good to say no.

There’s something dangerous about seeing him like this, red-faced and wild, looking feverish because of one kiss. The illusion of the perfect golden boy is shattered, and you’re as drunk on having Red Bull’s little prince like this because of you as he’s on his victory.

You press a kiss against his fluttering pulse, and Max throws his head back, lets his eyes close, clings to you harder. You keep going, biting hard. Feeling it quicken under your tongue brings forth a wave of satisfaction and a chuckle.

For all his fire, all his guts to slide into Mercedes garage in Red Bull blue and crowd you against a wall and demand without words, he lets you do whatever you want, go as rough as you want.

There’s saliva running down his neck, a red mark standing proud on his pale skin, he’s gasping, and you feel an odd rush of possessiveness.

Unkind rumors come and go, about Leclerc and Sainz and even Hamilton, for fuck’s sakes, but Max is here now with you - the Mercedes princess. He’s melting against you, grinding against your thigh, sighing as you kiss his jaw.

It’s been fated since Bahrain, since his strained smile for your praise and the way he shivered under your touch. He’d looked strikingly like he was twenty six then, still does now, but you drown these dangerous thoughts. He’s staring you with this Prince Charming face, smirking slightly, and it reeks of mischief.

“Can you keep up?” He teases, hands going under your shirt to feel your breasts.

“Don’t get cocky,” you half snarl, biting down on his shoulder hard. Max moans, high-pitched and surprised. You’ve never built in yourself to be challenged or a good loser, even when it comes with the benefits of a pretty face.

And yet, he looks pleasantly dazed when he traces the zipper of your jeans, almost innocent if not for the smirk and deliberately skimming over your dick. “I could discover.”

“Yeah,” you say, guiding his hands to undo the button, “you could.”

[racetowrite]

Punishment

Pairing : Max Verstappen x Reader x Lando Norris x Nico Hulkenberg

Tags : rough sex, unprotected piv, fingering, degradation

Word Count : 1.5k

“Push deeper.” Lando’s voice caught Max's attention, who a few seconds ago had been distracted by the messy and sloppy way you were sucking him off. He could have sworn there was a point where the only sound in the room was your saliva every time he slid over your tongue.

Max looked at the man with a frown.

“Push harder.” He repeated, looking up. “Nico always fucks her mouth until she cries, if you want to prove your point push harder. Right, Nico?"

The other man received an elbow against his ribs that forced him to look up. It seems he was enchanted by watching the way your left cheek bulged against the pressure of the head of Max's lenght against it.

Still distracted, he nodded quickly.

It was that what resulted in you suddenly feeling him push your head harder. The brush against your throat brought tears to your eyes and you heard your boyfriend grunt. He was never so rude.

You didn't complain, though.

You tried your best to relax the muscles in your throat around him, but you were so caught off guard that a couple of gags only did the opposite, feeling you squeeze him every few seconds until he guided your head back.

Saliva ran from your lips to your chin, some drops ending up on your neck. You broke the string of saliva that joined his cock to your mouth by licking your lips.

You sniffed, looking up before giving Max a smile.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” His fingers wrapped around himself so he could hit your tongue with his heavy member. You kept your tongue out, happy to receive it and hear the wet slapping.

“Or does Nico do it better?”

Another movement of his hips was so abrupt that you felt your nose eventually collide with his lower abdomen, having to close your eyes as your tears ran down them. Still, you didn't give up, you didn't use your well-known "signal" to ask for some mercy.

Instead you moved your tongue slowly underneath, you only managed to graze his balls with the tip of it but it was enough to get a gasp from his throat. You held on for more seconds than you thought you were capable of before it was Max himself who pushed you away.

It took you several seconds to even out your desperate breathing, you wiped your lips on the sleeve of Lando's sweater.

"Stand up." He ordered. His chest rising and falling rapidly. Lando's smirk on the other side of the room screamed at him that he knew. He knew Max would finish stupidly quickly if he kept fucking your throat like that.

You swallowed hard before standing on shaky legs, the intense heat between your legs beginning to burn through your entire body, without receiving any kind of attention the only thing you could feel was the way your insides clenched around nothing.

"Turn around." Your cheeks took on a reddish color as you remembered the two pairs of eyes that were on you on the other side of the reflection. You slowly turned your back on him, your fingers gripping the wooden cabinet that held the huge mirror. “You better not close your eyes, I want you to look at them.”

Max's hands took care of the job, pulling the hem of the sweater up to your waist and pulling your panties down to your ankles. You didn't need instructions to spread your legs and raise your ass for him.

He positioned himself behind your body, holding his cock for help. The tip separated your lips and you flinched when it brushed your swollen clit, it was just a couple of brushes as if he wanted to collect your juices on it in order to make penetration easier.

Although with you dripping and him full of your saliva, at this point it was just his pettiness and his desire to make you beg. You lifted your hips higher.

Max looked down, his hand positioning itself exactly over Lando's finger marks and with a single movement you felt him slide inside you. Your legs trembled as you received him this deep and rough way, an action that you recognized as more typical of Nico.

“M-Max, fuck, Max.” You stammered as your body tried to get used to his size. No matter how many times you had done this, it was like your body insisted on giving him that death grip that drove him crazy.

"That's it." He caught her bottom lip between his teeth in a lousy attempt to silence her gasps. “Louder, baby, remind them who's fucking you.”

Somehow you felt like Lando and Nico’s eyes burned into your skin. You couldn't look at them, not while you were babbling Max’s name between moans, with that look that made it obvious how cockdrunk you were with just a couple of thrusts.

When Max hit that sweet spot that made you vibrate from head to toe, your eyes closed automatically, your head falling downward.

"No." He growled, his hand rising to place it in your hair where he tangled his fingers. The sudden tug he gave to your locks made you snap your head up and let out a loud gasp, your eyes snapping open. "Look at them."

On the other side of the room Nico was leaning slightly so he could be at your face level, analyzing every small expression of pleasure he saw in you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are dilated, and your lips are red from biting them so much.

Lando was too lost in his own thoughts to object anything, the truth is that he was enjoying this new angle he had to see Max’s cock splitting you and making you whimper more than he would like.

“Tell them how good I'm making you feel, honey.” He cooed, his fingers giving your hair a harder tug to force you to keep your head up. “Remind them who was the first to break that tight little pussy.”

You stifled a moan, making your bottom lip bleed with a bite.

“Tell them.” He growled, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you feared your body was going to give up at any moment.

“I-It was you, Max.” You whimpered in pleasure as his thrusts pushed your body forward, you were already on your tiptoes so as not to end up with your entire body against the furniture.

“Repeat it, I want them to listen to you.” His entire length remained still inside you, brushing against that spot that made you lose your mind. "Louder."

Your parted lips took in deep gasps of air and you had to swallow hard to recover your voice by moistening your throat a little.

“It’s you M-Max.” He didn't give your hair a break, he was pulling with his fingers so hard that it was starting to hurt. “Fuck, Max! A-Ah, fuck. It’s you, it’s you, only you.”

Bold of you to assume that Lando wouldn't have that in mind the next time he had his turn with you.

“Fuck her harder.” Max looked at Lando and smirked. “Come on, she can take it.” A mocking smile appeared on his lips, only irritating Max even more.

Still, he obeyed.

You could hear the slapping between your bodies every time he thrusted into you. Your legs were threatening to stop supporting your body weight as they began to shake, your entire body feeling small spasms as you got closer and closer to the end.

“Max?” Nico's soft voice caught the attention of the other two. His pupils were dilated and there was an adorable blush on hid cheeks. "Touch her."

Max grunted when he realized that this wasn't the punishment he'd originally thought, but who was he to say no to Nico? The hand that was holding your hip slowly slid between your legs, separating your pussy lips with his fingers and then pressing his thumb against your sensitive clit.

He immediately felt your little hole tighten around him.

“Circles.”

“I know how to touch her, Nico.” He growled in your ear, only reminding you of the pair who were probably enjoying the show. The pleasure you were experiencing was too much to rescue the few grams of shame you might have somewhere on your body.

Your nails scratched the wood of the furniture in front of you.

“Cum all over me, honey.” He managed to whisper between moans. Two more thrusts of his body snatching the air from your lungs. “I bet they’ll like it.”

And that was enough for the wave of pleasure to make your body tingle from head to toe, your walls milking Max until he followed you immediately after, filling you with his warm, thick liquid, which he pushed deeper inside you with a couple more strokes.

For a few seconds the only thing you heard along with the ringing in your ears was Max's heavy breathing. After a moment his fingers gripped your hips, drawing your attention.

He gave you one more thrust and you squealed, sensitive, overstimulated.

[racetowrite]

Punishment

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Max Verstappen x f!reader x Lando Norris x Nico Hulkenberg

Tags : fingering, marking, afab!femreader, dom!max; a little blurb insipired by Max’s new ig post

Word Count : 1.2k

So far, the agreement had been going relatively well. You were in a serious relationship with Max at first, you met in a café in Monaco like those silly romantic movies, with the small difference that you almost killed him by spilling your cold drink on him and tripping over him.

Neither of you could deny that things were moving very fast, but everything with him was so ridiculously easy that you weren't afraid to give him your all. You told him about the pet you lost when you were young, about the disagreements with your parents, and the occasional traumatic event in your life. He did the same.

After Max introduced you to his fellow formula one drivers and friends, Lando Norris and Nico Hulkenberg, you found yourself becoming intimate with both drivers. You joked that Max was winning the trauma competition, and he could breathe easy knowing that this was not even close to being an obstacle to your relationship. He could trust you, you were ultimately his.

Things began to get a bit out of control when everything became easy with Lando and Nico, each with their own personal charm. You never imagined being with three very different guys, but starting to experience it was a real adventure. The problem was that while you were having fun, they had endless discussions about you and the boundaries they set for each other.

Well, the boundaries that Max set.

The main and biggest one was that marks on your body were prohibited. He understood that all four were part of the relationship equally, but he also used something he liked to call "privileges of having met you first and being the main reason why everyone is together." Or something like that, he always changed the name for it, the thing is he couldn't help but be a jealous man, he hated that Nico and Lando would forget who you belonged to first.

The first one to break the rule was Lando, unconsciously. You didn't know anyone who was a bigger fan of make-out sessions than him, and when his kisses got deeper, more desperate, he had the habit of holding onto your hips as if you were about to run away at any moment, or as if he wanted to verify that you were real and that you were in his arms, devouring his mouth as if you depended on it to live.

That, combined with the fact that he had a terrible habit of forgetting that his muscles were stronger than he thought. You tried to be as discreet as possible when his fingers left marks on your skin, but with someone as touchy as Nico, it was impossible to keep secrets about your body.

He took it as a challenge, of course. If Lando could break the rules, why couldn't he?

The next day, you could be sure that he saw you as a blank canvas because your neck, your shoulders, and even your breasts were covered in bites and hickeys. You didn't remember him being so aggressive, but maybe pleasure had blinded you.

"What is this?" Max held your chin, turning your face slightly, just enough to get a better view of your neck.

"It was Nico." You chuckled, still distracted by your phone as you let him guide you, without noticing how his jaw clenched, but feeling his fingers tighten on your jaw.

“Darling?"

Your eyes traveled to him.

"Mhm?"

"Will you come with me to the bedroom? We need to talk."

With a furrowed brow, you obeyed because the hand that held your chin ended up in one of your hands, pulling you as if he were a child wanting to show you something very important.

"Am I in trouble?" You joked as you watched him close the door behind you.

"Sit on the bed."

"Am I...?"

His brown eyes on you were enough for you to obey once again.

"Could you explain to me what the hell is this?" His hand in your hair made you turn your gaze away from the mirror you had in front, leaving the marks in plain sight.

You immediately understood who he was talking to.

Or whom.

"Oh, come on, Max." Lando came in the bedroom and rolled his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. "Nico broke it first."

"False!" Nico, also in Max apartment, entered the bedroom and objected after. It seemed like a competition of who could make Max lose his patience first. "I would never do something like that."

"Check her hips if you don't believe me."

Raising an eyebrow, Max released your hair.

"Stand up, sweetheart."

If there's one thing you've learned over time in this relationship, it's that it's not worth objecting when one or all three of them are arguing, especially when you don't even know what the problem is. You stood up slowly, wearing Lando’s blue sweater that you slept in, which only covered half of your thighs.

Max slowly lifted the edge of the fabric, his fingers brushing your thighs and causing a slight shiver. You could swear you heard him growl when he found the damn marks that fit perfectly with the size of his hands. Some of them were covered by your panties but they were pretty visible, already turning to a purple color.

“I-I didn't even notice those were there!”

“Why can Lando do it and I can't? That’s a damn injustice if you ask me.” Nico said

“Fortunately, Nico, I'm not asking you.” Max rolled his eyes. "On your knees."

The cold of the floor on your skin felt good and you had to look up to meet Max’s gaze. You never had a problem following his orders.

“The problem here…” His fingers ran through your hair slowly, making you close your eyes for a few seconds. “They are forgetting who you belong to. Who do they think they are to mark my girl like this, huh?” He cooed, the gaze of the other two fixed on him.

Your hands went to the hem of his pants, and when he didn't object, you understood well what he wanted. A small smile spread across your lips as you freed him from his tight black jeans, as well as his underwear.

He wasn't completely hard yet until your tongue ran along his entire length from base to tip.

“I want you to show them who was your first, my love.” Your fingers, as if you were an expert, wrapped around his cock, giving it a squeeze before beginning a slow, up-and-down pace. “Who you think about every fucking time you cum.”

You couldn't see it, but in detail you imagined the way Nico was rolling his eyes.

“It's a punishment for all 3 of you, you understand, don't you, honey?” His eyes boring into you as you kissed all around his cock wetly. “What makes you believe you should allow yourself to be treated that way?”

You parted your lips, taking the head inside before starting to suck. That always gave him chills, the way you didn't rush.

“No-oh.” His fingers tangled in your hair, those soft caresses had stopped. One push of his hand and you had half of his erection inside your mouth. He groaned.

Although you enjoyed taking your time and savoring every inch of Max, he seemed to be in a hurry, you thought that perhaps the clumsy and aggressive way in which he was directing your head movements was part of the supposed punishment.

Were you supposed to not enjoy that?

[racetowrite]

Control

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Max Verstappen x f!reader x Charles Leclerc

Tags : unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it irl i'm begging you), rough sex, fingering (r!recieving), slight degradation, dom!max my love my life

Word Count : 1k

He’s usually so good for you. Perfectly happy to whine beneath you as you do whatever you want to him. And he’s always so responsive, giving into your every whim without question, desperate for your touch.

Charles put the idea in his head, just like he always seems to. Max supposes that he brought it on himself, asking Charles if he really liked being in charge as much as he seems to. He did.

“'Course I do, and she fucking loves it,” Charles had said, eyes going dark. “She gets so damn desperate for it. It’s like she’s in goddamn heat.”

Max had watched you both that night, watched on from the sofa as Charles tore you apart, fucking into you harder than Max has ever dared to. And you had cried with the force of it, dripping down Charles’s cock as he fucked you hard enough for tears to spring to your eyes.

Max couldn’t get the image out of his head, needing to see you like that again, needing to be the reason for it.

He asks you one night, over dinner of all things, like he’s discussing the fucking weather, “Can I have control for a night?”

“What?” you ask, setting your fork down and scooching closer to him on the couch. “Like, in the bedroom?”

Max’s face flushes bright red. He won’t make eye contact with you. “Yeah,” he breathes, “Want to see how it feels, if that’s alright with you.”

You smile at him, ducking to his lips to meet him in a gentle kiss. “Of course, Maxie,” you murmur. “Of course you can take control, see if you like it.” And in the back of your head, you can’t help but wonder how Max, the sweetest, most docile man you’ve ever known, could possibly be dominant.

A few nights later, you find out. You find out, spread underneath him, just how far he can take it.

“Fuck, please Max, need it so bad, please,” you whine, unable to help yourself as Max’s fingers spread you apart, jamming into your pussy so hard your head spins.

“God, that’s so beautiful, schatje,” he murmurs, “keep begging for me.” And you realize that you’ve never been the one begging for him before. It’s always him, writhing and pleading beneath you. The change, his dark eyes roving down your body as he plays with you like a fucking toy, is enough to give you whiplash, sending you into a tailspin.

“Please, Max, Max,” you gasp as his fingers jackhammer into your g-spot, sending your back arching as you bear down on his fingers. “Please fuck me, need it- need it so bad, baby.”

Max grins, the same cocky, self-satisfied grin Charles always gives you when he’s got you like this. It’s fucking maddening.

“Charles was right,” he murmurs, “you’re fucking gorgeous when you get desperate like this.” You flush with heat at the compliment, throwing your arm over your eyes to escape from Max’s unrelenting gaze.

Before you can even breathe, Max grips your wrist, pinning your arm above your head. “Look at me when I fuck you,” he snarls, deep and dark and so unlike your Max that it makes your entire body lock up, feeling like you’ve been struck by lightning. You’re lightheaded as you feel the blunt head of his cock push at your gaping entrance.

He doesn’t break eye contact, holding your arm above your head as he pushes inside without remorse, not giving you a second to recover before he’s pulling out, and slamming into you again.

You’re so used to the way Max whines beneath you, his hips bucking uncontrollably.

Now, you’re the one gasping for air as he growls above you, fucking into you at a pace that is utterly obscene, practically ripping you apart, straight down the middle, with his violent thrusts.

“Max, fuck, oh my god, Maxie,” you slur between his harsh movements into your aching body. You can hear the sound of your pussy around his cock, the wet slapslapslap of your bodies meeting over and over again.

“God, you’re so wet for me, love,” he rasps. He pulls his hand away from your wrist to grasp your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you onto his cock. “You love this, don’t you? Being used?”

You choke on your moans with his words, gasping for air.

“Fuck! Yes, I love it, love when you fuck me like this, oh shit- Max!” Tears spring to your eyes, leaking down your cheeks. The headboard slams against the wall, threatening to dent it, but you couldn’t care less. Not when it feels like you could pass out from the pleasure of it all, Max’s cock jamming into your g-spot with every single thrust.

“You look fucking perfect like this, darling,” Max growls, “getting fucked like the slut you are. When Charles told me he wants to share his precious girlfriend with me I should have accepted sooner if I knew you were such a needy whore.”

And you’re fucking gone, trembling and gasping soundlessly as you squeeze Max’s cock with your orgasm, your nails digging into his shoulders. He thrusts in once, twice before he’s following, leaning into you to lick into your mouth, his hips moving in aborted little thrusts as he floods your pussy with his cum.

As you both settle, Max lets himself rest on top of you, his weight comforting and warm.

“Did you like it, Max?” You whisper, running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

“Mhm,” he hums tiredly into the crook of your neck. You chuckle.

“Good, because I fucking loved it.”