#mmrequested

[monzamash]

not in the mood — carlos sainz

carlos sainz x you (femreader) | 1.9k summary – grumpy uncle Carlos is struggling on the extended family holiday and you will do anything to shake him from his bad mood. rating – 18+ (sex, language, google translated spanish) a/n – i’ve decided to collate the sentence starters i got for each driver so that we can get a bit juicer and i can do a little more plot with the smut lol masterlist

You could tell from the moment Carlos stepped off his father’s sailboat that he wasn’t happy. It was a look you’d seen before – typically after a bad race or when the vintage car he’d been working on in his workshop wouldn’t start; infuriated and overtired, two emotions he wasn’t capable of controlling. The vein bulging on his forehead told you to keep your distance while he cooled off, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. Hopefully simmering down.

“Is tio angry at us, tia?” Little Edgar asked, tugging on your long sundress as he watched his uncle storm off towards the resort without a word.

“He’d never be mad at you, cariño…” You replied quietly and brushed the young boys curls from his face, encouraging him to go play with his siblings in the water. But the question had to be asked.

“What happened out there?”

Carlos’ father simply shrugged and threw the cooler filled with bait onto the sand beside his wife, “He gets so worked up over nothing – frustrated with me, frustrated with the little ones. Desagradecida,” He muttered under his breath.

Carlos never got upset over “nothing”. Sure, he was competitive and easily annoyed by small things, pouting to you that something wasn’t right in his mind but storming off a boat after what was supposed to be a nice afternoon with his father and nephews? That wasn’t your Carlos and you stayed silent, not agreeing with Papa on this one.

“Well whatever happened, I’m sure he’ll be over it by dinner.” You sighed, willing your words into reality for the sake of the holiday.

His mother nodded in agreement, knowing that her son was never upset for long. Thankfully she changed the subject and sent her husband on a mission to get her another cocktail from the beach bar. You took the break in conversation to return to your suite where you assumed your husband was brooding alone, probably grumbling to himself in the otherwise silent room.

And you were right. As soon as you clicked the door open, you heard it. The unintelligible Spanish that he always used when he was angry – quietly cursing whoever was coming to ruin his peace and quiet. But you didn’t care if he was annoyed by your presence; you’d been together for long enough to sense what the other needed, especially if something was upsetting them.

He would've done the same for you.

“Don’t throw a pillow at me. I come in peace,” You said, rounding the corner and surrendering your power with your hands up beside your face.

He looked exactly as you expected; propped up against the bed head, thick black rimmed reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and his eyes trained on the book you’d gotten him from the market that morning. At first he ignored you, pretending to be completely immersed in the book he was reading. 

But the quick glance up in your direction was enough to make you smirk. The pout he had on his face when he breezed past you on the beach a few minutes ago was still there, shoulders tensed around his strong neck. The only difference now was that he was shirtless, gloriously tanned and looking painfully beautiful lying on the white linen sheets. You always compared him to a flawlessly chiselled statue, mouth-wateringly perfect in every way.

“You didn’t need to come at all.”

Okay, so maybe not perfect all the time.

“Well I came up because the boys were worried that they’d made you angry but I can’t imagine any scenario where that would be true…”

Carlos’ eyes snapped up to yours, his pout now a frown as he listened to your words. He felt a pang of guilt shoot to his heart as you sat down on the end of the bed, watching his brain tick over and finally realise the effect he had on the people he loved, his little carbon copies. He was Tio Carlos, after all. Their hero.

“Ay, they didn’t think I was mad at them?” He asked more as a question than a statement and you nodded – not to make him feel bad but because it was the truth. The bitter truth from the way his face dropped again, now sadder than before.

“Meirde,” Carlos mumbled under his breath, “I wasn’t angry at them – it was my father. He was shouting at them like he did to me when I was a boy… making them feel stupid so I told him to fuck off and he was not happy about that…” He trailed off, rolling his eyes with a huff.

“I’ll go down and see the boys soon but I just can’t be around him like this,” Carlos added and you understood. He was clearly fired up, fight or flight mode activated with the former winning out.

There weren’t many things that really got under Carlos’ skin but those kids meant more to him than anything. He was protective of them and seeing them being bullied like he was as a young boy triggered him – made him see red and although he was close to his father now, there was a lot of underlying problems that had never been resolved.

Obviously this was one of them but it would be a shame to let all of that pent up anger and aggression go to waste, you thought.

“Fair enough, honey,” You whispered and stood up, smoothing your long sundress out as Carlos went back to his book, “I’ll give you some space but I’m not wearing any underwear right now… Just thought you should know that.”

In true Carlos fashion, he didn’t even flinch at your words, not even a glance nor did he stop you from leaving at first. It wasn’t until your hand was gripping the door handle that you heard him yell out from the bedroom, “And where do you think you’re going then?”

His voice sounded hoarse, deep and tantalisingly sexy as you trotted back to where he was, now sprawled out on the bed and waiting for your return. The book he was seemingly so enthralled in when you left was still open but discarded as you crawled up beside it with a smirk, merely imitating the expression on his face as he watched you.

Eyes forever trained on yours, tempting you up onto his lap that he was patting. Your fingernails dragged along the exposed skin on his thighs that the short shorts weren’t covering, tanned and hairy. Strong and muscular, mind reeling from the things they could do.

Carlos was pouting when you leaned in closer to his face, telepathically sending signals for you to kiss him. It had been a rough afternoon but having you to take his mind of it well and truly made up for it. You smiled and pressed your lips to his, arms snaking around his neck as you settled onto his lap, letting the weight of the day melt into his touch.

His hands crept around your waist and naturally dropped lower to your backside that he was always mesmerised by. There was hardly ever a moment when you were alone that he wasn’t either touching it or gawking at it and you loved it. The attention, the physically touch – he had you wrapped around his finger, and him yours.

“Let your frustration out on me, baby.”

Your permission ignited something deep inside Carlos. A little spark in his eyes catching on as you pulled back and captured his stare, aroused by the darkness and the steeliness as he tugged you into his chest. He was groaning under his breath as you moved above him, stirring that feeling he couldn’t ignore and that you could feel between your thighs.

“Te quiero con todo mi corazón,” Carlos whispered as you reached up and removed the reading glasses from his beautiful face, peppering kisses all over his cheeks.

“I think you look so sexy in these but I don’t want to break them,” You confessed and he simply smirked as he lifted your hips up and pulled his shorts down, freeing himself from the tight material.

“I know you do, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and licked your palm before grasping his growing stiffness in your hand, delicately rolling your wrist to get him to where you needed him. It never took long and with all of the kissing and teasing you’d done to him all morning; Carlos was pretty much hard on sight. But you loved how big he felt in your hand and the way his eyebrows scrunched together when you gripped him a little too tight, a hiss slipping from his lips every time.

“Actually you look sexier like this,” You smiled and kissed him again as he started bunching up your dress, moaning as you continued to pleasure him, tease him. But he got you back, sliding his fingers through your slick and pushing two fingers into you without warning, jerking you forward over his shoulder.

“Oh my god!” You shouted, both hands now gripping the back of his head as he fucked you, knuckle deep and revelling in the fact that you were now on the receiving end of his pleasure.

“Shh, I can hear people in the other room, cariño,” Carlos whispered facetiously, voice taunting and secretly wanting everyone to know that he was the reason for your screams.

“Well don’t shove your fingers inside of me without warning and I would be quiet,” You snapped back before he hit that sweet spot, causing you to return to crook of his neck with a whimpering moan.

“Asshole.”

Carlos snickered at you waving your metaphorical white flag. He loved you taking control and that’s what you did once you sunk down on him, taking his thick cock all the way until you bottomed out. A low, raspy moan slipped from your throat when you felt him twitch inside you, hips snapping up in an attempt to get you to move.

“Don’t rush me, baby. You feel so fucking big… God, why do you feel so big?”

“Because I am huge,” Carlos shamelessly retorted, head titled back and watching squirming on top of him. You rolled your eyes and straightened your back; now feeling like you had a point to prove.

As you sat up, you pressed your hands to his chest, hips rolling achingly slow and taking full advantage of your position.

“Okay, with that kind of arrogance and the way you’ve been moping around all day, you’ve lost your touching rights, my love.”

You slapped his hands off your thighs and watched his eyes glaze over with lust, “Hands off.”

Carlos pouted and reached out with his grabby hands, “Ay, no, please. I have to touch you.”

There was a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips as he pleaded with you, and you could see right through his façade. Even with his unbelievably thick cock filling you to the brim, brushing against that spot deep inside you that would usually have you unravelling in a matter of seconds, you didn’t crack. Not even a little.

“Hands. Off.”

And with those stern words, Carlos simply laid back on the pillows and tucked his hands behind his head, watching as you gave him a show. He couldn’t have loved you any more than he did in that moment – for making him feel like his entire body was on fire and for remedying his bad mood.

You really were a miracle worker. And you were all his.

a//n – ayyyy, the first of the monzamash special! i'm so glad people sent in requests for carlos – he's so fun to write. the next one will either be charles or daniel so let me know if you have preference! and thank you all again for 700 followers x masterlist | askbox

[megamanrequests]

@thunder-tornado​

I most certainly can, and do want to. I’m always here for some sad 9th gens.

(An attempt was made. You can see the exact point at which everything fell apart, good lord.)

I hope it’s to your liking, despite the quality! Thanks for dropping by.

[automatonknight]

Mmrequest? A robot with puppy paws

hope a robot puppy will suffice!

[monzamash]

when we first met — charles leclerc

summary – the love story of sophia ricciardo & charles leclerc, a story so magical that even a princess would be envious. pairing – daniel ricciardo's sister x charles leclerc (she/her pronouns) warnings – moderate language, implied sex, google translated french word count – 1.6k a/n – thank you @lverofminemcyt for the request! Such a great idea and maybe I'll continue this story in a longer format in the future. But for now, enjoy! masterlist

You were 20 when you met Charles for the first time

– or more accurately, gawked at him from across the paddock at Silverstone. You’d read in the news that there was a rookie driving for Sauber – a young, Monégasque man who by all accounts was the "next big thing" in the world of Formula One. You tried to keep up with the comings and goings of the sport while ignoring all the slander being written about your brother, Daniel. Hard to do but not impossible.

“Is that the new guy?” You asked Max once you were far enough away from the handsome stranger who was heading in the opposite direction. Max followed your eye line and scoffed, visibly irritated by your question.

“Yes but I wouldn’t say he's the new guy. He’s been racing his whole life and the pain in my arse for just as long,” Max grumbled. You weren’t aware of the rivalry between the two young men but after a long, detailed explanation, you understood that Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc had a checkered history.

“He’s not worth your time, Sophia.”

Of course you didn’t listen to Max. The ‘karting incident’ he described when they were literally children sounded like child’s play (because it was) and you weren’t the type to take one persons word for anything. Max had become a fast friend to you in the paddock when you’d join your family on race weekends but he had a reputation for stretching the truth and you weren’t about that.

The first time you were officially introduced to Charles was at Seb Vettel’s birthday party three days after his stunning British GP win. And the celebrations were in full effect. Daniel was also in the points that weekend and practically begged you to come along, not that you needed a lot of convincing. You knew a certain Monégasque driver would be there and you loved a party, especially one thrown at Lewis Hamilton’s lavish London pad.

It didn’t take long for your paths to cross, almost as if you were both searching for a moment to be introduced. Charles had been guilty of staring at you across the paddock on race weekends and it was shocking that the two of you hadn’t officially met yet. But he felt like he knew you already.

“Dunno know if you two have met yet but this is Charles,” Daniel introduced, putting a particularly thick French accent on your new acquaintances name, making you both snicker silently, “And this is my much younger and much less attractive sister, Sophia.” Arsehole.

Charles extended his hand towards you and as cheesy as it sounded, you could feel the sparks flying as your hands clasped together. They were softer than you imagined, bigger than you imagined and boy had you been thinking about them lately – pathetically desperate, of course. His green eyes glistened under the dim lights and you could have sworn they sparkled like in the movies. His dimples danced on his rosy cheeks as he smiled small and it was if time had stopped, you couldn’t look away.

“Hello,” You squeaked out, unable to form a full sentence before Charles stepped in and saved you from total embarrassment, “Nice to meet you, Sophia."

The way your name fell from his perfectly accented lips had you spinning and clutching his hand for way longer than normal. But Charles held on too, taken by your light brown eyes that were gazing into his own. He felt like you were staring into his soul, searching for his darkest secrets and he loved every second – the intensity intrigued him. Your long brown hair cascaded down the back of your silky dark green dress, accentuating every curve that had him scrambling for his words again. He was in love.

“So, yes, your Daniel’s sister,” Charles quickly cleared his throat and gently dropped your hand before stuffing his own, shaky ones into his jean jacket pockets. Get it together, he thought to himself.

“Umm…” You had been so caught up in your daze that you hadn’t realised Daniel had left your side and was making his way around the house, greeting everyone he set eyes on, “Yes… Yep! Danny's little sister.”

Little sister, you grimaced internally. You were hopeless when it came to matters of the heart, which was why you were perpetually single with no end in sight.

“I assumed so,” Charles politely replied with a nod, “So are living here in London or…”

Charles knew the answer to his question. He’d found himself mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram after the Monaco Grand Prix, hoping to find out everything he could about the mystery woman he'd noticed wandering around with the Red Bull Racing team. That’s how he found out you were Daniel’s sister and felt his heart skip a beat when he got to the end of your profile and hadn’t seen a photo of a boyfriend.

He brushed away that thought almost immediately, knowing it was probably a case of wishful thinking. There was no way you were single, he thought. From his perspective you seemed to be the life of the party, much like your older brother. You waltzed around the paddock as if it was your own fashion runway, saying hello to everyone you passed on your walk to the RBR motor homes. Smiling until your cheeks hurt. Charles was convinced you were an angel sent from above.

“Well technically I live in Oxford – doing university there at the moment or at least trying to,” You explained, nipping at your bottom lip nervously, “But Danny has an apartment in London that he rents here and I crash there when he’s away, which is pretty much all the time.”

Charles smiled and tried his best to follow what you were saying. Although he had worked with a few Aussies in his short career, he still struggled to understand some of the lingo from time to time. But he didn’t care if he only understood every fifth word you said. He could've listened to you talk about the fine arts degree you were studying or that the uber you took to the party charged you extra forever and a day. He was utterly captivated.

And that was the beginning of your blossoming friendship. Charles had become your new comrade around the paddock on the off chance you got away from uni and showed up at a race. You had also been making a few extra trips to Monte Carlo to visit your brother – or at least that's what you said to your friends and family. The friendly smile emoji quickly turned into a heart when you signed off a message and you could feel your heartbeat skip every time his name showed up on your screen. Charlie ❤️

Six months. Six whole months of flirting and pretending like you wanted to be anywhere else but with the man of your dreams. Every day started and ended with him, either via text or on Facetime and all that back and forth, wondering which one of you was going to make the first move was answered in a matter of seconds. There’s nothing quite like a few too many glasses of red wine to reveal one’s true feelings.

“I’m in love with you, chéri. Have been since the second I laid my eyes on you.”

The rest of that night with Charles was a blur and before you knew it, you were tangled somewhere between his chest and bed sheets, moaning his name into the cool Monaco air. His fingertips explored every inch of your skin with feverish lips following closely behind, leaving small, barely visible marks as he went. His eyes rarely left yours as you savoured every movement, every kiss, every breath – you wanted it all with him. All those sleepless nights wishing you were the one making him moan with pleasure, hearing your name tumble from his mouth like you’d never heard before. Watching his eyes roll into the back of his skull, gripping, praying that he could hold on a little bit longer. He'd yearned for it for too long to not savour every second.

All your wishes had been answered as you laid in Charles’ arms, slowly returning to earth and closing your weary eyes. Sighs of contentment the only sound swirling through the air.

“Tu es envoyé de ciel, mon amour.” you are heaven sent, my love.

You didn’t speak French but whatever he'd whispered sounded sweet as he gently pressed his lips to your temple and said goodnight.

Whenever you took a second to reflect on your four-year relationship with Charles, you realised that you'd effectively grown up together, side-by-side. He was sitting in the crowded auditorium when you graduated from University, cheering you on when you received your bachelor’s degree and you were standing in pit lane when he won his first GP in Belgium, crying and celebrating in equal measures. You were both very different people compared to the two stuttering 20 year olds loitering in Lewis Hamilton’s mansion, searching for the right words to say.

“I’m so unbelievably in love with you, Charles.” You whispered in Charles’ ear as he popped open the champagne, laughing hysterically when gravity brought the cork back down to earth and landed in your lap.

You couldn’t stop staring at the diamond that now sat proudly on your left ring finger, endlessly pinching yourself that it was real. He’d caught you by surprise on your birthday, no less. Out on the Mediterranean Sea, looking back at the place that you now called home. Charles had anchored down the boat and dropped to one knee before you could even comprehend what was happening. Your hair blowing around in the wind with Monte Carlo twinkling in the background as the only a light source. You bobbed up and down in the bay, not knowing if you were seasick or lovesick - or both. Either way, you were gripping onto Charles for dear life as everything you'd ever wished for came true right in front of your eyes.

He carefully placed the ring on your finger once you whispered a soft ‘yes’ into the ether, eyes teary and smiles the size of the moon on your windswept faces. You couldn’t believe that the man of your dreams had asked you to marry him. You were on top of the world but most of all, you felt like the princess Charles had always claimed you to be.

“And I’m in love with you, Madame Leclerc.”

let me know what you think!

[megamanrequests]

Any way I want? But I have terrible taste! 

D’oh well, here it is: A terribly amateur, limited-edition, “stress mode” TimeMan! For some reason, I have Darts on the mind. 

Sorry I took a while. I kept getting concrete-blocked by life. Hope it’s okay! And thanks for dropping by.

(Also, I think I’m going to make a reblog...blog. Of sorts. I’ve got all of these lovely people following and I’d like to appreciate them properly...Later, though. Now it’s time to clock out. Aheheehoho.)

[megamanrequests]

Oh don’t you dare apologise, Papa Mikhail is never a bother. Have a montage.

(These all have context but in the interest of brevity I’ll hold back.)

I’m sorry it’s such a mess, I probably let you down bad, but hopefully you like it at least a little. Thanks for dropping by. 

Also, whaaat? MY drawings? Incredible? Amazing?! That’s balderdash, that’s poppycock, that’s...

That’s actually really kind of you, thank you so much.

[megamanrequests]

@tabbypiggy​

Aw sheez, thank ya much. Let’s get ignited.

Here we are! As many HeatMans as will fit in your purse. I couldn’t think of an idea so I lined a bunch of sketches and dropped them on a single page.

I hope you like ‘em! Thanks for dropping by.

[megamanrequests]

Hey! This blog is for YOU guys to indulge yourselves, not me! D’oh well, here’s a thing.

This ask actually had me thinking a bit about what my “favourite aesthetic” even is. I realise now it’s the very specific look of a doodle page out of an emo teen’s notebook. Something about the melodrama draws me. I don’t know. Feel free to laugh me off the stage now.

I hope it’s alright! Thanks for dropping by.

[megamanrequests]

Well guess what, your FACE is really cool...thank you. //////

And hey, of course you could! Have a couple boys.

I swear, you let him win ONE game of Mario Kart 64 and he’ll never shut up again.

I hope it’s to your liking! Thanks for dropping by.

(You know, now that I think about it, there’s a chance you meant this in a ship sense. If that’s true, tell me. I’d be happy to do a different thing.) 

[megamanrequests]

Expectation:

 Healthy, constructive recreation while off-duty. Wholesome sibling bonding.

Reality:

And you wonder why Flash and Air said they had better things to do. 

This is foolishness, but I hope you like it anyway! Thanks for dropping by.

[megamanrequests]

Of cowse you may.

“Well, I suppose if you’re not going to talk, we could just do this until I fry every circuit in your body. Fine by me. I happen to like the sound of your agony.”

Sorry sorry sorry I took ten million years, it’s been busy around here. I hope it’s to your liking though! Thanks for dropping by.

Also this:

[megamanrequests]

No, we’re still active over here, sorry about the inactivity. I just haven’t been able to use the computer lately. I’d be happy to draw you a fish lady.

I hope she’s to your liking! Thanks for dropping by.

(Also I see all you peeps rebloggin’ my stuff and leaving nice comments and nice things in the tags. I love you guys. Truly. ;-;)

[megamanrequests]

@anatomophobia​

Oh, of course you may.

So I heard about this thing called PaintsChainer a while ago and only now am I deciding to give it a try. So now we have an AI (Satsuki) colouring a robot. You gotta love it. Does this fall under the category of “any way”?

Here’s Tanpopo’s version too, thought I’d just throw that in there.

I hope it’s to your liking! Thanks for dropping by.

[megamanrequests]

Hey, it’s no bother at all.

Congratulations anonymous, you’re the first requester. Your prize: one TopMan, almost halfway to 500 consecutive spins! He’s...probably not going to make it.

I hope it’s to your liking! Thanks for dropping by.

(Also, thanks for telling me about that. Sounds funky, I’ll check out the layout again.)

[megamanrequests]

@sweetiebeetulipthefox​

Sure thing!

The researcher who took this picture later claimed to have contracted diabetes. 

I hope it’s to your liking! Thanks for dropping by. 

(Argh, a thousand apologies, this has been done for a while, it’s only getting posted now. I’m sorry to everyone for making you wait for your requests, ugh. ;-;)

[megamanrequests]

@membrows​

D’oh stop, YOUR blog is awesome. Jeeeeeeeez. /////

Congratulations, you’re the first non-anonymous requester. Your prize: ShadowMan having the digital equivalent of a bad trip. He’s gonna need a designated driver. Don’t install unlicensed drugware, kids.

I hope it’s to your liking! Thanks for dropping by.