#( 🚢 ) MONDAYS IN MONACO

[andcars]

[ 𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛 𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 ] Mondays in Monaco

premise. prince of monaco is your boyfriend, congrats! however, trying to be his girlfriend is much more difficult than you expect. struggling what to wear, it's decidedly charles' job to make sure that you're perfect just the way you are.

tags #ㅤlight angst, insecurities, hurt/comfort, praise kink, cunnilingus, no specific use of body shaming but could be implied eitherway wc #ㅤ 1.7k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

The silk slip dress pools on Charles’ bedroom floor. It's an image of wine red and you're tugging around the waist, seeing how it frames your waist and your thighs. The dress was bought long ago and you haven't even tried it once. Tonight could be the night—or not. 

You eye it critically, tilting your head. Too much? Not enough?  You picture the flashbulbs, the online articles dissecting every thread, every curve.  Monaco is a place without a single privacy. Before you can even leave his apartment, there would be three TikTok accounts on how a woman is seen leaving with Charles. It's going to be on the front page of everything. 

The Prince of Monaco with a commoner.

As the clock signals the next hour, you start to undress. The dress is laid onto the bed as you scour the closet for more clothes—and you never ran out of clothes. Charles has a separate closet just for you, and abundance of clothes you can barely wear. It's something for him than you, he said once. You believe that when there’s unfamiliar fabric inside, all of them were brought here without your knowledge.

A pair of tailored trousers and a cream blouse instead is worn. Then, you discard them just as quickly.  The trousers feel too business-like, the blouse too…plain. Tonight is a special appearance. Wearing pants makes it seem like you're just another woman in Charles’ life. Your head tries its best not to wander on those who came before you.

The glamour. The tanned skin. There’s the jewellery, elegant movements, and the kisses on the cheeks. Everything that you have yet to even give Charles.  You’re not used to this. lifestyle. He is.  He’s used to the red carpets, the flashing lights, the constant hum of attention.  You, on the other hand, feel a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of excitement and something akin to dread. It's the excitement of staking claim and the dread of public opinion.

You tug at the hem of a simple black dress, the one you always feel safe in.  It’s comfortable, and familiar.  But is it enough?  You want to look…effortless.  Like you belong by his side, like you're not trying too hard.  But the effort is monumental. You’ve already spent hours agonising over this, scrolling through endless images of his past lovers, trying to tell what made them look good.  It's not working. Your closet doesn't have any of their outfits, you don't know how they chose their palettes either.

“Fuck!” You sigh, the first words you've muttered since you've debated what to wear. You're at a loss with the straps of the dress loosely hanging around your shoulders. 

It's a knee-length dress, the skirt flowy and the waist tight. You can remember the first time you wore it with Charles—a cold night in Singapore as you watched his race from the hotel. You overlook his performance, always watching. It never mattered how he placed, he looked beautiful when he won and lost. When he came to your side, you were wearing the dress with a smile.

That was simple. There were no cameras inside of the hotel room (you wish so, anyway) and there were no expectations. Tonight, Charles has booked a restaurant for the two of you to have your public date in. For a year and a half, both of you have exchanged secret kisses in the dark. Your schedules almost never aligned and you were just another face who lived in Charles’ building. This was the night that changed. Your dress feels tighter than ever.

“Hey.”

Charles leans against the frame. With an easy grin, he's dressed in an all-white outfit. The style of it casual but with a formal feel with the turtleneck covering his neck. His watch adores his wrist paired with the bracelet you gave him—and your scrunchie. It's placed by his wrist. His heartbeat. Suddenly, you feel silly sitting there just in your underwear. The black dress was just recently taken off.

He approaches, “You can’t be going like this,” he says with a teasing tone, “I don't think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“Very funny, Charles,” you reply. “I can't pick what to wear.”

Only then does Charles eye the abundance of clothes on the bed. “They all look great,” he says, sitting beside you “but if you do decide to go out naked, I'm afraid I'll have to just keep you here for myself.”

“Charles,” you didn't mean to bite, his expression falters because of it. “It's just… I don’t know. I just don't know what to fucking wear.”

Silence stirs a little. It sits at your heart and it's eating alive the perfectly nice dinner that both of you could be having right now. The guilt suddenly joins in. Before anything could linger more, Charles tucks a strand of hair behind your ears.

“I remember when we first met,” he mumbles, caressing your cheeks with his thumb, “you were very cute. Asking for my autograph for another fan. It made me think how nice you would be to rely on.

“And then you came back to my life, and again, and again, and again,” he laughs. Charles moves from his seat to go in front of you. Suddenly, he's kneeling in front of you with both your hands in his own. “I love you, I absolutely love you. I don't think that what you look like will change that.”

You know that. “I know that, Charles,” you hiss out, “but you're not the only one seeing me tonight.”

“And?” he laughs. “Baby, I don't care if they see me with a walking trash bag tonight. As long as you are that walking trash bag, then I don't care!”

You're not quite sure how that was supposed to help you. You tell him exactly that and he laughs at that too. “What I mean is,” he kisses your fingers, “I don't care what you look like. What the media sees you as. You are going to be my partner when we go outside and that's enough.”

Maybe it's not enough now. There's still the cold hugging your tired body. When he presses his lips on yours, you have nothing else but to think that this is enough.

Charles' lips move against yours, taking his time. There's the taste of affection, pride, and endearment. You can't imagine how else to interpret the feeling of his mouth on yours. It's like a part of yourself feels fulfilled. You're just hoping that Charles feels just the same as you. With his hands going down, tugging at your underwear, you think that he might be feeling just a little more.

He pulls away, you chase him instinctively. “So pretty,” he tells you, gesturing your hips up as he pulls your panties away. “You're so pretty. No one else can appreciate how beautiful you look just like this—suffocating with my kisses.”

“You're biased,” you gasp after your words, feeling him thumbing at your clit. 

“Am I?” he asks, smiling as he goes down. Fuck.

You feel Charles's strong, slightly calloused hands gripping your thighs, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he parts your legs wider. His breath is hot against your sensitive skin, making you shiver with anticipation. "This is all mine,” he sighs before placing his tongue along your slit in a long, slow lick. He savours your flavour, his eyes fluttering closed in bliss. 

A moan escapes you as you feel the wet warm tongue invade your insides. Your legs are pulled apart to give him the access he needs. Just like this, he's on his knees with his mouth worshipping you with more than words. His hands slide up to your ass, kneading the globes and pulling you tighter against his eager mouth. Charles's tongue delves deeper, probing your entrance and fucking into you with a fervour that takes your breath away. Each thrust of his tongue sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

Charles slides a hand up your body to cup your breast, tweaking and rolling your nipple between his fingers. The sudden stimulation has your body jerking. He hums, the vibration sending up towards you. He mutters something unintelligent and you shiver. His tongue continues to explore your inside while his hand expertly works your breasts.

Your clit throbs in time with his licks. It's being rubbed against his nose as he tries to put his face deeper. Below you, the only thing you can hear is his panting and the sloppy noises his mouth makes as he kisses you open. It's dizzying. Your hips move in tandem as you start to chase an orgasm. Charles, knowing you, doesn't change his pace at all.

Two fingers plunge into your channel as his tongue moves in on your clit, suckling the sensitive bundle of nerves. The combined assault has your climax building rapidly, the coil of tension in your belly pulling tighter and tighter. You grind against him, chasing it with moans spilling your mouth uncontrollably. Your fingers tangle with his hair as you clench with your orgasm washing over you.

His fingers pump harder, faster, curling to rub against that secret spot deep inside you. Charles's tongue lashes your entrance, making sure to take all of your spend in his mouth. His pace slows down and you're left with the throbbing feeling of your pussy. The ghost feeling of his mouth on you sticks with arousal. Still, your legs feel too much like jelly to move.

Charles moves up, smiling with his lower face covered in your juices. You blush, “Jesus… your face.”

Your partner still looks like he's a cat who got the cream—horrible comparison, really. “I think I quite like it like this,” Charles pokes his tongue up, chasing the taste of you that's on the edge of his lips. He receives a kick to the chest for the tease. Laugh echoes through the room as the reservation has gone cold, come with it a pizza delivery enjoyed with some Netflix. Maybe this is enough for now.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @Tribbisweetdear @Jamie2305 @yourmommyagone22 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── some slightly more angsty charles fic !!! hope it's still nice because he does eat you out after. i don't need to remind all of ya'll that you all are perfect how you are 🥳 love urself first <3

[andcars]

[ 𝗕𝗘𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗗𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗦 ] Mondays in Monaco

premise. you're not someone who's quick to judge anything that journalists put out on the internet. after weeks of not being with lewis, a picture surfaces with lewis and some other woman. you're not abou to lose him over this.

tags #ㅤlight angst, implied sexual content, thoughts on cheating, (more like worries that your partner is cheating but it's not real), light miscommunication, (solved fairly quick) wc #ㅤ 1.6k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

Dating one of the biggest men in sports isn’t easy. Surprisingly, it’s less about your title and your own achievements being overshadowed by being Lewis Hamilton’s girl and more about the mouths of journalists who run without mercy. It’s like none of them can take a break.

Days blur as you’re left alone in his penthouse. With his change to Ferrari, he has been spending more time in Maranello than in Monaco. That's not bad. He has his own job, you have your own. Both of you keep in contact daily, is that not enough? Distance doesn't kill love, people do.

At work, you get a decent salary while doing what you love. It's honest work and it takes your mind off complicated things like the media. While you're in the zone, your co-worker greets you by the doorframe. 

“Hey.”

You glance at him, “Hey.” Your hands work meticulously and your head is focused. However, the prolonged silence makes you glance back at your co-worker. “What?”

He shrugs, acting as if he isn't about to say something. That was only an act as he's already entering your space. “You're dating that one racer, right?” It's a breath of fresh air when people don't shove it into your face that you’re dating an icon.

“Yeah,” you nod, your body coming to a slow close, “What's up?”

“The, ah, Hamilton?”

“Yes,” you laugh, putting your hands away from your work, “what is it? You want an autograph?”

He reacts immediately, rolling his eyes with a defensive flail of his hands. “No, God,” he exclaims. “I can't get past the sports things.” He shivers as if it's such a bother to his life.  “But… apparently they caught him exiting some woman's yacht.”

This is news to you. “Yacht?” He's supposed to be in Maranello.

“Yeah. Look at this.”

You pat your hands with a towel, trying to take the excess clay off your fingers when you're handed the phone. To everyone's relief, he holds it for you instead. The screen displays a photo—clearly taken without their consent—of Lewis and another woman in a yacht. Both of them are in state of undress; Lewis wears nothing but swimming shorts, and sunglasses as his hair is tucked neatly in dreads; then, the mysterious woman in her bikini and blonde hair down to her chest.

It's… something. 

You're never one to assume things. It's harmful to the soul and the relationship. From the pictures, they could simply just be physically together. It could've been a late party last night—a night he didn't come home to you. He has his own life, it's not like you were one to go to all of his afterparties either. It's just something that never interested you.

You retell yourself, that people don’t kill the love, trust does.

“Thanks,” you tell him. There's a coil around your heart and you’re doing everything to get it off you. “But I’m sure I can talk to him about this.”

“Of course. I’m sorry if this seems like it's out of my business but…”

You nod, trying to see everything in the bigger picture. “I get it. I’d do the same if your boy was cheating on you too.”

That makes him laugh. “Oh, no, you're better than me. If you showed me that, I would've cut his dick off immediately.” He thinks again of what he said, taking in your calm demeanour. “Oh. Sorry.”

Travelling from Nice to Monaco is a peaceful event. One of the things you love about working in Nice is the ride there. It's a quick break from your personal life and to work. In the middle, nothing really matters. When you get home, you're pleasantly surprised to see Lewis already there. 

Limbo has ended when you exit your car. “Hey,” he smiles at you, preparing food for himself and you. Him with a meal tailored to his diet, and yours with your favourite dish.

“Hi.” Lewis was always sweet when he hadn't seen you in a while. It's like his way of making it up to you. “I thought you were still out in Italy?”

*Huh?” Food flew in mid-air for a second, his head having snapped to yours. “No. I came home last night and stayed at a friend's place.”

You try to tell yourself your tone isn’t as sharp as you thought it was as you ask, “You mean her yacht?”

He laughs, shaking his head. That didn't even faze him. That's good, you think. If he was cheating, he would've been sending warnings all over his body. Instead, he tells you, “She practically lives there. I don't think I ever seen her on the shores.”

“Huh.” You tap your fingers on the island, he glances at it “A bunch of paparazzi saw the two of you though.”

“Really?” He puts the utensils down and suddenly, you know the conversation has taken reigns. "We were pretty far off the shore,” he says, “I'm surprised they can capture us from there.”

“Great lenses.”

He turns the stove off. “Is everything okay?”

“I'm sorry.” It's getting to you. You don't *like” that it's getting to you. “What do you think, Lewis?”

The man smiles. There's an easy smile on his face but you can tell he's just as saddened as you are. “Sweetheart,” he calls, putting his hands on your arms and facing you to him, “tell me what's wrong. Please?”

What's wrong feels like a complicated question. However, it's a simple answer, “I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too,” he says, immediately knowing what to say.

“No, it's just…” there are words stuck that you aren't quite sure how to get out. You try anyway. “You've been busy with Ferrari, I know that. I didn't go into this relationship not knowing what to expect. But it's just hard to talk as much as before and then I see pictures of you in another woman's yacht half naked so I just…”

“Assumed?” he smiles, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes. “Is it so bad?”

It's not. He knows it's not. You don't like how he kisses you first instead of explaining. It's not like you're complaining in the long run though. When he pulls away, he's humming as he drums his finger over your collar. “Well, if I'm being honest, I would've reacted way worse if I saw you like that with someone else.”

You remember that similar words were said to you. “Everyone keeps saying that.”

“What?”

“That they're gonna react worse.”

“Because,” Lewis kisses your cheeks, your jaw, and presses a sharp one just on your collarbone “You're forgiving. You're patient. You're the smartest woman I know stuck with a guy who travels for a living. It's unfair because you should be with someone who's there for you for every part of your life—”

“Lewis—”

“I’m being serious here.” He is, you know it. “You deserve someone like that.” Your head rests on his palm, your eyes locking in and you can only see the love radiating from him “But I’m glad it's me. I'm not gonna be the perfect man that you deserve, but know that I'm gonna try my hardest.

“And baby, I want you to punch me for even looking like I was about to cheat on you.”

That pulls you out of it. “Oh, come on,” you scoff, “be serious here.”

“I'm serious. I would've beaten up the guy you were with if you were in my position.”

You think he's being silly. It barely matters when his hands go under your shirt. It's nothing too much—he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. It's the intimacy and the warmth of your skin that makes him want this. It's nice. You ask him, mind trying to come back to the conversation, “Then shouldn't that mean that I should punch your friend then?”

Lewis shakes his head, putting a kiss on your forehead, “No, no. It should be me who takes the blow. I would be the idiot who went for someone else when I had this angel in my home.”

“Mhm?” He hums back, his hand teasing just on your waistband and you let out a laugh. “And I'm not the idiot who goes for someone else?”

“No, my sweet angel. You would be the genius getting what you deserve.”

To say the truth, there was barely any doubt. The loneliness for the past few weeks has crawled up to you—he knows that. You're never shy about communicating your feelings. For days, you've pouted over text how you miss him. Now that he's here, you're enjoying his hands roam your body as eagerly as his lips do.

It's like he's learning you all over again. He knows your favourite places yet he massages and kisses them like it's the first time. He's experimenting. He wants to know how to make you feel good again. It's a testament to show how he knows your body more than you ever could. Your heart grows fond with each kiss, a devotion of love just on the other side of it.

When both of you are in bed, stomach and heart full, you realise something. Well, more like you’re contradicting something. 

You tell him, “It's not about what I deserve.”

“Hm?” He's snuggled beside you, hands under your shirt and relaxed. 

“You deserve… an eight championship. A good car. A better team. But it's not about what you deserve.” You turn to look at him but he's already looking at you. “It's about what you want and what you'll do to get it. For me, it's what I’ll do to keep it.”

That’s enough for you.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @Jamie2305 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── i wrote this with my wrist hurting like HELL TT but more lewis hamilton on the go. i rlly like him but I've never written much on him. hope u like this! also reader here is very kind cuz I do not like messy relationships lol. it's my first fic for mondays in monaco (posted on tuesday 12am) so i hope you stay tuned for the next few fics!

[andcars]

[ 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗙𝗨𝗟 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 ] Mondays in Monaco

premise. being carlos' girlfriend means getting dragged along the limelight. you're invited to a sponsor's event and the two of you split for a moment. a moment is a long enough of a time for his jealousy to strike up

tags #ㅤjealousy, making out, posessiveness, semi-public display of affection wc #ㅤ 1.1k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

The hum of the crowd buzzed in your ears. It was a busy night for both you and Carlos, needing to nurse in some sponsors for the season. You stand near the open bar, a completely full glass of red wine in hand. You’re used to these functions by now, tonight was nothing different. Almost so, anyway. 

Carlos is rather busy. The lights catch the glint of Carlos’s eyes every time he glances your way. You'd think it was worrying about your boredom but it was something else. Perhaps it’s the persistent man who had been hovering at your side for the past twenty minutes, his charm falling just short of genuine.

“So, you’re not interested in Formula 1 at all?” he asks, leaning in a little too close, his breath tinged with whiskey.

You forced a polite smile. Not everyone gets it, you reminded yourself. In fact, more people have just assumed you know nothing of the sports. “Not my favourite sport,” you replied, “much more of a basketball person or wrestling. Carlos has made me deepen my love for F1, though.”

Your gaze drifts over his shoulder to where Carlos was deep in conversation with a group of sponsors. He looks back and a laughs fall short on him.  “Ah, Sainz. Lucky guy.” He takes a sip of his drink, his eyes locking back on yours. There's a strange confidence glowing from him, it's terrible. “But sometimes, it’s nice to get a little attention of your own, isn’t it?”

Whatever that meant.

“I’m good, actually,” you told him. Your drink suddenly seems even more unappetising than it was earlier. He doesn't seem to get the point that you're not interested in this conversation. “You’re from HP, right? That's nice. Must have more important things than listening to the WAG talk about the wrong sports.”

He laughs. It sounds like grazing. “Nothing more important, don't worry, girl,” oh God, “You think you’re up to some drinking?”

Before you could respond (an insult was on your tongue), a familiar presence materialised at your side. Carlos’s arm slid around your waist, his touch warm but almost too tight when it should be soft. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, his voice smooth with an edge that made your heart flutter. You can almost tell what's going to happen next. “But I need to steal her for a moment.”

The man’s confidence falters. His expression neutralizes as he straightens himself, trying to compose himself. Maybe the act of literally hitting on your client’s girlfriend was embarrassing to an audience. “Of course,” he mutters, stepping back.

Carlos doesn't wait for a reply. He leads you away with a firm but gentle grip. His strides were almost rushed, weaving through the crowd until you both reach a secluded corner. The noise of the event fades into a distant white noise. You're far enough to be hidden with some walls but the chatter of people is still present. The moment you two become alone, he turns to face you, his eyes dark with something that sends a gleeful shiver down your spine.

“That guy,” he began, his voice playing with shallow water, “has been talking to you for way too long.”

The excuse is laughable. You raise an eyebrow, trying to play it cool despite knowing Carlos’ pattern already. “Jealous?”

His lips twitched, but there was no humour in his expression. You try to stop a smile. “Yes. And you should be flattered by that.” He steps closer, crowding you against the wall. His hands rest on your waist, body softly crashing into yours to kill the distance..

Your breath hitches as his gaze drops to your lips. You can feel his breath against your face as his fingers twitch to have a hold on you. You start, “Carlos—”

He doesn’t let you finish. His mouth crashes into yours, his kiss demanding and relentless. You feel your body respond in tone with his. Carlos’ tongue swipes past your lips, pushing in for entrance to further claim you. He wants to taste your entire being because it's the way he wants to own you. You melt into him, your hands gripping his blazer as both of you disappear from the world.

Carlos is touchy. One of his hands strokes up and down on your side as the other wraps around. You return the favour by swinging a hand around his neck, feeling that thick neck in your skinnier arms. He loves it. A small gasp leaves him as his tongue directly kisses yours. The feeling of it is dizzying and heartwarming. You're fucking addicted to it.

When he pulls back, you’ve become breathless, your lips swollen and tingling. In his eyes, you can tell that the two of you separated not out of his own choice. It's from the need to breathe. You know that if both of you didn't need air, he would be kissing you for days. 

 “You’re mine, cariño. Don’t forget that.”

A teasing phrase was about to drop from your tongue. It doesn't reach his ears when a cough interrupts you. Both of your attention move to the man—yes, that man—who stands there awkwardly. “I, uh, didn’t mean to interrupt,” he stammers, his eyes darting between you and Carlos. “Just wanted to reach the bathroom, mate.”

Carlos doesn’t move, his arm still around your waist as he fixes the man with an unbothered look. It's as if he hadn't just kissed you like a starved man just for him talking with you. “You weren’t,” he said coldly. “In fact, I was just showing her how much she means to me.”

The man’s face flushed as he mumbled an apology and passed by the two of you, his footsteps a fading noise. Carlos turns back to you, his lips curling into a smug smile. “Now, where were we?”

“Come on, Carlos,” you try to remind him, “you have a lot of people to attend to. I can just hang around for a while.”

“Hm…” he fauxes thinking as he hugs your frame. “Are they so important to me as you are?”

Your cheeks flush but you laugh at his ridiculousness. “I'm being serious. Go out there and entertain them like monkeys.”

He huffs. “Okay,” Carlos starts to pull away and you're smiling—

The ridiculous man turns around and returns with another kiss, this one slower but no less consuming. Immediately, he wraps himself around you in a warm embrace. You unexpectedly lean against him, putting your weight to his. He's loving the way you have to depend on him. Open-mouthed kisses come to your mouth and he breathes out,, “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you moan out. You feed his possessiveness and he is receiving it gleefully.

He mumbles the same thing over and over and you gladfully tell him the same. He's yours, you're his. He doesn't put your lips to rest and it's like the event doesn't matter. You don't push him away because you don't really want him to leave either. You're utterly whipped. Carlos smiles against the kiss and doesn't let you go the rest of the night.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @Jamie2305 @yourmommyagone22 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── I WANT HIMMMMM i found that front pic of carlos and i just WANT HIMMMMM pls lord one chance... one... one chance....

[andcars]

[ 𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗭𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] Friday Millionares

premise. your photoshoot with an underwear company is a success! you think so, anyways. there’s a mix of reactions but the only thing that matters is how carlos is ready to devour you. maybe, it was more of a success than you thought.

tags #ㅤpossessive behaviour, light exhibition, balcony sex, rough sex, biting, marking, creampie wc #ㅤ 2k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

Carlos presses a kiss to your cheeks, holding you close. The public affection gets you giggling. He smiles, almost unable to let you go despite the fact that you will meet again in the night. He sighs, arms around you, “Do I have the privilege to see the photos first?” Carlos was impatient; that much is true.

“You'll see it when you see it,” you assure him. “I'll be back before you know it. Okay?” Carlos doesn't believe you. It's almost amusing if not for the fact one of the staffs have already passed by you, greeting you. “Everyone else is waiting, amor. I'll come back to you later.”

The way the nickname rolls off your tongue has him submitting. That's enough, you think. You enter the building and are greeted by a room full of women. Well, it's not unexpected. You definitely thought that there would be a majority of them in this room.

“Ah,” someone calls out to you, “There you are.” She greets you with a shake of a hand, leading you down to a more secluded room. She smiles warmly. It's pretty nice. She tells you, “Go and undress, and we’ll have you taking photos in a few,” and that is when the photoshoot starts.

────── FULL WORK HERE can't afford to may monthly? buy it once for life! all prices are dependent on my commission rate ($5 per 500 words)

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @Jamie2305 @yourmommyagone22 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── so... that's mondays in monaco done. donchu worry ya'll, i'm literally going to make more events like this LMAO. but next month, i'm returning to a more loose schedule just to write :3. i might return to social media stuff but for some reason that takes more effort than these fics. prolly cuz i can just write fics anywhere lmao. but anyways, hope ya'll enjoyed mondays in monaco!

[andcars]

[ 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗦 ] Friday Millionares

premise. it’s a quiet night in monaco. you and lewis are finally together after weeks and weeks of being busy. suddenly, your mind drifts to when you first met. lewis loves hearing what you think of him.

tags #ㅤpraise kink, body worship, soft dom lewis hamilton, fingering, fluffy sex, domestic sex wc #ㅤ 1.7k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

It's a quiet night. For once, your schedules align perfectly. You have just finished another project and you're lying with Lewis on your bed. He's on his phone, you’re listening to his heartbeat. The night is a cold embrace yet you're snuggled with him under the covers. It's comforting. Your mind drifts slowly.

It drifts, and drifts, and drifts. Your head images the frame of Lewis Hamilton entering the shop for the first time. His eyes dance along the different pottery you have made. It's awe that you see in them. He's in awe of your work. 

Every time you remember it, your heart warms. “Do you remember when we first met?”

────── FULL WORK HERE can't afford to may monthly? buy it once for life! all prices are dependent on my commission rate ($5 per 500 words)

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @Jamie2305 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── andd here's friday millionares! as always, there's a free post variation with the same reader in a different prompt! hope you'll like this one as I very much enjoy the thought of a very soft lewis

[andcars]

MONDAYS IN MONACO ─── ever thought about a day in the life of dating a millionaire?

Mondays in Monaco focuses on a few drivers who reside in Monaco and what an average day with their partners goes. some are smutty, some are fluffy, it tends to lean towards realism and developed relationship fics already. patreons get Friday Millionaires! an additional fic with the same drivers but in more PwP situation wanna be tagged? check out my taglist to not miss an upload for monmon

02.03 ── Lewis Hamilton, making up 02.07 first meetings (patreon only)

02.10 ── Charles Leclerc, insecurities 02.14 experimenting kinks (patreon only)

02.17 ── Daniel Ricciardo, comfort 02.21 angry sex (patreon only)

02.24 ── Carlos Sainz, jealous 02.28 posessive (patreon only)

[andcars]

[ 𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] Friday Millionares

premise. daniel mentions you in an interview—calls you a distraction. you stop watching the clip and immediately are angered by the stupidity daniel dare pulls in an interview. a good making out is due—making up, you mean. definitely that.

tags #ㅤmisunderstandings, oral sex, light degradation, angry sex, dom daniel ricciardo, creampie, brief thoughts/mention of pregnancy wc #ㅤ 2k

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| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

You can't see it any other way. It fucking upsets you so much. Daniel knows the press doesn't like you, why the fuck would he fuel the fire? It was easy to shut up or say something even better. But there he goes in an interview, laughing and smiling—

“Yeah, I guess you could say that” Daniel speaks through the skin, adjusting his cap, “My baby is a big distraction. Definitely.”

Fuck him. Absolutely fuck him. You took this up to him and he had the nerve to explain to you what he meant. It was drowned out as you wouldn't let him utter a word that night. It had been days since the video went live. You're just about going through your work on your laptop when he arrives at the couch too.

────── FULL WORK HERE can't afford to may monthly? buy it once for life! all prices are dependent on my commission rate ($5 per 500 words)

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @Jamie2305 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── yeah yeah today isn't a friday (at least for me, it isn't) but i was actually so burned last night that I couldn't write TT i think this still came out rlly well tho! my last fic is gonna be next week for mondays in monaco/friday millionares and it's with gonna be carlos!! super hyped cuz i kinda like carlos lol. but as always, gonna be publishing another writing sched after. yahoo!

[andcars]

[ 𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ] Friday Millionares

premise. after dating Charles, you think you’re pretty sated in life. a thought haunts your head and suddenly you’re asking to handcuff him during sex. while you’re thinking of the many ways to make him submissive, he’s looking at you knowingly.

tags #ㅤconstraints, brief dominant reader, soft dominant charles leclerc, reader tries domming and realises she’s better off submissive, blowjob, fluff ending wc #ㅤ 1.9k

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| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

It's safe to say that you and Charles are pretty vanilla. Kisses here and there, à few in areas like your necks and between your thighs. There are nights when Charles can leave bruises. It's those nights that are fuelled by the frustrations of his job. Like a routine, he leaves markings on your hips and bites on your neck when Ferrari fucked him up. Other than that, it's pretty vanilla.

The conversation was simple. You thought it'd be fun to try something new in bed—like his technique wasn't mind-bending enough—and he agreed. You suggested handcuffs, and he agreed. He asked who it would be put on, and you grin.

“Really?” he chuckles, seeing your mischievous grin. “You want to put it on me?”

Cuffing Charles wasn't a big fantasy of yours, you're just curious as to how it'd feel like. “Come on, it's a nice change. I think you’d be pretty begging underneath me, no?”

────── FULL WORK HERE can't afford to may monthly? buy it once for life! all prices are dependent on my commission rate ($5 per 500 words)

@Delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @Tribbisweetdear @Jamie2305 @yourmommyagone22 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── i'm a big fan of submissive charles leclerc but sometime he just gotta dom it out for the y/ns out here. also, i have another charles patreon fic if anyone's interested! some fuckboy charles action so i would totally recomend checking out the patreon

[andcars]

[ 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦 ] Mondays in Monaco

premise. you're kind of an emotional gal. you've cried or felt stumped more times than you can count—but you can count five. those five in comparison to the one time that daniel needed help feels like a balance in your relationship. well, the start of a balance anyways.

tags #ㅤangst, hurt/comfort, daniel ricciardo exits formula one for the last time, emotional fluff, reading is a singer-songwriter but that's barely anything in the plot wc #ㅤ 1.9k

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| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

ONE

The credits rolled down the screen. The melancholic soundtrack fades into silence.  Tears streamed down your face with your head turned away from Daniel. Despite that, the man’s eyes have been more invested in watching you than the film. It's embarrassing because you think you've cried just about three times with this movie. Daniel, notedly, has smiled and giggled three times as well.

"Hey," he said, a grin killed into the tone of his voice. He pulled you into a hug, laughter spilling from him. "Come on now, don't be shy. It's okay to cry. It was a sad movie."

It was a sad movie. That was not the problem. The problem was that Daniel couldn't stop making fun of you. Your fist collides with his chest as you whine. Enchanté is now stained with your tears for a doomed family. “You’re mean!” you complain, “Absolutely heartless. Not even—not even once crying for the dad!”

“I did cry!” It's not obvious when he's still laughing.  "Heartless. Seriously heartless.” You feel his tattooed hand smoothen the creases on the back of your shirt, a comforting feeling as he moves you close. Your body pressed against his, the tease from his words nothing to the want to be in his arms. Despite all of it, you’re pulled into his lap and allowed to cry in peace.

TWO

It's never a surprise how ruthless the media can be. The headlines screamed at you from the screen: "Ricciardo's New Flame–Another Investment?"  The comments section was a sea of incels with their dicks dry and heart the Sahara.  Most of their comments are about how you're a distraction to him. Everything about you is a barrier to his first world championship.

You felt dread coiling in your stomach. Dating Daniel came with accepting that you won't be the only one who will. From male fans to female fans to children really, all of them will look at your boyfriend with stars in their eyes. You're nothing special. The distance closing between the two of you though, is a unique fragment of his and yours relationship.

Daniel found you scrolling through the articles, your face monochromatic. He immediately knew something was wrong. He sat beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.  "What is it?" he asked, his voice concerned. While you closed your phone, he already saw the large text.

He frowns as he pulls your phone down as if that will bury the news. "They just want to talk," he said, his voice firm. "It's like they don't get any entertainment from me going around in weird shapes every now and then." That makes you laugh. He likes that you've laughed.

Daniel does his best as he closes you in between his chest and the mattress.  "You're amazing," he said, your face in his hands. "No one can actually say no to you. If you're a distraction, then I would love to have my eyes on you anytime. Nothing else should matter."  His lips on yours are a big FUCK YOU to every journalist out there with nothing to do. You almost want to post it on his account.

THREE

Coming out of musical hibernation for months, you need to write something. Your job is fun. You get to work out all your problems and thoughts in a creative way. It can’t be a job when you enjoy it. However, you’d been staring at a blank page with white noise playing in your head.  Frustration gnawed at you. Your notebook, thick with words, suddenly pale and deficit of any good ideas.

Daniel, also a man who enjoys his job, gives you food. You’ve been holed up in your bedroom and he looks eager to pull you out. You’re proven right when he hums, asking,  "Writer's block?" 

You nodded, sighing.  "It's just… nothing's coming.  My head is still in summer break, basically."

He puts his hand over the notebook, "Sometimes," he starts, "you need a breath of fresh air. No offense but your apartment isn’t the best for any air or even natural sunlight to get in.”

True. Fuck New York, you guess.

So then he takes your hand and pulls you away from your hellhole. Privacy is a privilege but the two of you go outside like nothing matters. The city doesn’t have the best walking experience but you make do. His fingers lock with yours, and he gives you more ideas to write a song of emotions than you ever had in your notebook.

FOUR

Weeks apart, separated by continents, race schedules, and shootings, the world is distance has driven you wild. It has been agonizing. You’ve counted the days until the both of you could meet. When the clock has turned the last second, you’re waiting patiently in Nice for the sight of Daniel.

When the familiar curly head is seen at a distance away, your body feels lighter. You always tell yourself you can deal with the distance. But as he closes the much-hated distance between the two of you, your tears swell and suddenly you’re just a crybaby in his arms.

A huff leaves him as you bump into his chest. Like instinct, his arms wrap around your body. "I missed you so much," you sob, holding him tight as if to never let him go.

His embrace is more than familiar.  "I missed you too," he whispers, his stubbled jaw pressing against the top of your head, "Missed you so much."

You don’t think of yourself as overly emotional. However, is it that bad that your heart is a jar of emotions? You can’t forget him now that you’ve had him. Every second of your life has been left yearning for him. Daniel is a man that you don’t want out of your reach. It’s embarrassing and almost obsessive. It’s a comfort that you know he feels the same when he refuses to even let you shower alone when the two of you get to Monaco. 

FIVE

It’s something that was going to come sooner or later. You knew that. You’ve been excited about it for months and you’re not one to back out last minute. But as boxes clutter your apartment, there is a tug on your chest.  You were excited to finally move to Monaco with Daniel. It’s the next step of your relationship.  A pang of sadness tugged at your heart.  You were leaving your life in America, your friends, your family, everything familiar. You barely even got out of the state before you met Daniel.

He finds you sitting amidst the boxes, a dark expression over your just previously excited face. “Hey,” he greets, a smile forming for you to mirror, “Reminiscing?”

“Maybe,” you think about it again, “Yeah. I really am.” You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm excited," you are, you one-hundred percent are, "but I'm also going to miss everything here."

Sentimentality is always a big trait in your soul. It matches Daniel’s own. He squeezes your hand, kissing it with the softness of his lips.  "It’s not like I’m whisking you away forever. We'll come back to visit," he promised. “You have your friends in Monaco to help you settle in. I’m sure my bed is very familiar with you as well," he smiles, dangling the idea of you relaxing in the comfort of your shared bedroom. 

"And besides," he’s adding with a grin, "you'll have me." That’s probably the only thing you’re going to need

PLUS ONE

Days. Weeks. It's been a topic in the media for months. Daniel and you haven't had a rest because no one wanted to fucking tell Daniel if he still had a job or not. You've skipped the days to spend time with Daniel. Not a single day passed without you tailing him. You're not quite sure how he would be if it wasn't for you ready to catch him.

On the day of the Singapore race, there's nothing on his face. He's gloomy as his entire body has all of the joy sucked out of him. Daniel isn't… Daniel isn't himself, but at the same time, this has been the most truthful he has ever been.

You think that he knows even a slight idea. Still, he doesn't tell you. But you know it from when he tells you to go back home first, go back to the hotel and prepare for a nice break just before Austin. The smile on his face was too pained to be real.

Daniel is found out on the starting line, just in front of where he started earlier. You don't think he registers you there until you're sat next to him. “I think Max is going to treat you out soon,” you tell him, startling him from his thoughts. “One extra point. Maybe it's going to be like Abu Dhabi again.”

It was also Daniel who witnessed that monumental moment. Fucking McLaren. “Maybe,” he says, voice cracking, “Maybe he will let me go easy on Padel?”

His eyes are glassy with tears. He's not crying but you see his red cheeks and the tiredness in his eyes. You've seen him at his best that you almost don't know what to do when he's at his lowest. You know him to be always in his best shape.

"Daniel," you pull him in, "it's going to be okay."

You see the exact moment he crumbles down. His head falls and you're carrying the weight of Daniel. He sobs into your arms and you want nothing but to wrap him until he feels safe. “It's not over,” he tells himself more than he tells you. “I'm still going to meet them. I still have more to give.”

“I know you do,” you coo, patting his back as he quivers. “You have so much more. It's not the end, Daniel. It's not the end.” 

His body is heavy with all the words being thrown at him the entire season. Washed. Weak. Past his prime. Daniel has been a strong man with how he's carried himself and you for the past year you've been dating. You don't think you've met a stronger man than him.

He goes quiet. You let the silence simmer but you just know his head is full of things. This is going to be the best you're going to do—

“Honestly, the movie we watched wasn't even that sad,” you tell him. He looks up at you, questioning. “I think I was just sad that the father couldn't return to his kid for a few times. Looking back, the plot would've been easily fixed if they had just talked in the beginning.”

He laughs, “You see my point? You're a softie.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

You tell him about the news articles, and the stupidity of journalists who report nothing but celebrity gossip. You tell him about the song you made after your stump, it being the catalyst of your now-fame. When the two of you cried at the airport, both of you laugh from how dramatic you two made it when it was only a month of not seeing each other physically. You two called every day. Moving in was probably the best moment in your life as well. You remember it so well.

He’s not crying but there's worry lines fading from his face still. “I think life is just about ending things,” you tell him, “a movie, a shitty relationship article, a writing block, a long distance relationship, and the past. There's always something more to look forward to.”

You cup his face, smiling up at him as you wipe the remains of his tears. “Hey, we can always go karting together. I'm sure their car is way better than the one you're driving now anyway.”

He laughs. The news comes out quickly and the both of you are in a karting area in New York. You don’t think you’ve seen him happier.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @Jamie2305 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── anddd here is another angsty for daniel ricciardo. man i miss him. hope he's having the time of his life but i do NOT want to watch f1 without him this season. ugh