#only that carlo had been there with him on one of the worst days of his life
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soliddaddy96 · 2 years ago
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so freaking depressed right now
#IM SHAKING HIMAROUND A BUNCHHHH#i think he def blames carlo for their dads death#(dont even get me started on how their relationship w their dad is like. parallels <carlos tolerance/borderline dislike of him#vs how much he admires his father . primarily due to how he executed his role as a double agent so well . in his glory days at least)#he knows its extremely unreasonable though. like#carlo and him couldnt have done anything more than he did alone#but. he just is so mad with grief that it doesnt seem/feel that way#LIKE!!!! when he talks about his dad and the circumstances of his death he sounds. so so small#its not like he wished that he brought all of salieri's forces with him#(though i think theres like. an element of that in his wishful thinking)#it wasnt an option though of course#but CARLO was an option !!#he couldve asked his brother who he had a somewhat stable relationship with him!! who somewhat always had his back !!#but ofc they fought and thats what lead to their strained relationship. but still#if carlo hadnt reacted like that and they went together. it still wouldve ended the same#nothing wouldve like. Changed#only that carlo had been there with him on one of the worst days of his life#and i think thats a primary reason of why he cant forgive carlo . bc at the end of the day#carlo was responsible for him being alone . IDKKK top ten brothers that r so fucked uo#carlo kindve deserevd that shovel . ONE GOOD HIT !!#dont even get me started on how this makes his declaration of carlo being his brother 10x more sadder#txt
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the-flaneur · 2 months ago
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the worst attempt of nnn ever
pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]
ft. the whole 2024 grid
summary: technically everyone wins, aka who's most likely to fail nnn the quickest
warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut
[masterlist] [requests]
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fail first
lewis
this man has zero discipline when it comes to you
absolute zero, zip, zilch, nada
normally he's on you 24/7
but when it comes to the end of the season and most things have been tied up and he dgaf, what better way to end each week than by fucking your brains out
aka 25/8 times a week
so when you attempt to propose to do nnn "for fun" on the 31st, he glares at you, calls you dumb before fucking you silly overnight (until the 1st) so that you never suggest it again that month/year
(he also bribes other drivers and wags to make sure that you are NOT included in their nnn plans)
zhou
shockingly in second place
but only cause he loves you too much, finds nnn a weird tradition (when you explained the basics) and just wants to snuggle with you and sweetcorn in bed
like why make yourself unconfortable and horny when he could just be happy and satisfied (and still horny) with you :D
lando
man is so fired up about the championship battle that he doesn't entertain the notion and just fucks you the minute november starts just to make sure you know not to fuck with him
he only manages to hang onto longer than lewis and zhou cause he was tired and forgot what time it was
carlos
had planned on competing with lando, since they had done it the year before, and the year before that (aka when they were teamates)
but when he found out from you (who found out from lando's partner) that they had already failed, he said to try for a few days
you said you didn't want to
"but it might be good for us" carlos had complained, saying something no one had ever said
and so you just like seduced him like five days later then BAM WHAM, he's back to blowing your back out
not that he needed that much encouragement
pierre
just wanted to fuck you in peace for halloween after you showed up in a very hot outfit
but then charles was like oohhhh we should try this
(f u charles)
but then almost cried in the shower when he realised he couldn't jerk off either
you heard him whimpering, laughed about it and then sucked him off
he tried to hide it, but charles found out anyways
max
is usually too busy to fuck you during race weekends so, he just failed when he like normally fucked you
cause he wanted to fuck you
cause yeah...
so....yeah...
oscar
likes to pretend he's disciplined and has lots of mental restraint
(he doesn't have restraint when it comes to you)
tried to keep some distance, aka by not arriving together at the paddock
but then failed after he saw you with franco, got jealous, said f this shit and then took you in his driver's room
checo
didn't give two flying fucks
only got interested cause evens was talking about it
but throws the challenge out the windoow the minute you insinuate that he seems "weak" about you
kmag
thinks its childish but still wanted to try it
got actually comfortable with it, until you made a sexy joke
hulk
lasts longer cause kmag found it childish
but still wanted to try it too after kmag told him about it
ocon
just wanted to beat gasly
lance
wanted to fuck you
so he complained to his father about the challenge and how you were going give him a reward at the end
so evil stepmum kdrama style, lawerence comes in and tries to give you envelopes of cash to get you to fuck stroll
you gleefully refuse
you manage to negotiate three ashton martins, a ferrari laferrari, and more, before still teasing him
to which he just gives up, and waits for you
george
for those actually dedicated to doing it, he set up the betting pool and "official" rules
(no charles...touching and edging yourself is not "illegal" but you're running the sPIrIt of the challenge)
but like lost out in the second week, when he saw you were having an amazing hair day
said ok i wanna pull on it *with grabby hands* and then gave up
(everyone mocked him relentlessly afterwards)
valterri
super chill about it
tried it only cause you wanted to try it for fun
actually found it hard to be away from you (only cause you love him so much too)
but you managed to reach the third week before simply saying
"that's enough"
franco
had never heard of it
but defs wanted to try after he learnt a about it
got really pissed off by the second week cause you were also teasing him sooooo much
but you kept refusing
basically had to beg his way into convincing you "near" it, and only seeing him get really pouty did you give in
yuki
swears and glares daggers at you the entire three weeks
but he's gotta prove that big things come in small packages
and actually makes it almost to week four before passing out from sheer horniness
fernando
actually lasts longer than most people thought he would
(liam spitefully calls out that he thought nando's blue balls would fall off)
is happy he is technically the best wdc at nnn (even moreso that lewis lost first)
makes it to like the last couple of days
you get bored and tired
so now fernando is bored and tired and just fucks you
alex
certified genz brainrotter
ofc know what it is, and is demandin to win it and prove he's at least NOT a lost in one area (his words not yours)
makes it to the last few days, before you trick into letting you give him a handjob
tries to argue technicalities with george
but by then nov its over and he just gives up
charles
used all his ferrari training in patience to last this long
wanted to tell you to kys when you suggested it
but eventually he got soooo into doing it, he was policing you
however he losses cause he was stupid
you're on his jet
he forgets time zones exist
thought he won
sent a gloating text message to the gc
and [redacted] beats him on the technicality
liam
this man is going all in no regrets, gambling style 😎
even if he didn't propose it, he's definetly the most eager to prove himself (especially to fernando and checo)
he's setting up strict rules to ensure that his dick does not get anywhere near you when sleeping, eating or breathing
(in the last few days he desperately asks you to sleep in the guest bedroom cause he's this close 🤏 to caving in)
however, he resists and gets bragging rights over everyone for the rest of the year.
fail last/succeed
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permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)
@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton
@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy
@fadingcloudballoon
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gguk-n · 1 month ago
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Smooth Operator (Carlos Sainz x Reader)
Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Some people can hear a song when their close to their soulmate, the volume depends on how far or close to them you are. Carlos was sure his song was smooth operator, so why hasn't he found his soulmate yet.
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People would spend their whole life hoping to meeting their soulmate. Some would meet them as entered any stage of schooling or some would run into them suddenly but the worst were those that spent their life preening their ears for the soft melody of their soulmate song. You never knew what the song was, it could be a song that actually existed or just a mash of musical notes that described the two people involved but there was one thing Carlos was sure of; smooth operator was his soulmate song and yet his love life was anything but smooth operation.
He had heard stories of how loud and melodious the music was when his mother entered his father's life, his sister's recounted time when they met their soulmate. Carlos was getting antsy. Until one day, during a race weekend, he had grown tired of the tune of smooth operator which he could hear playing faintly as he walked in to the paddock with Lando. "ugh, that stupid song" Carlos muttered. "What song?" Lando asked confused. "Smooth Operator" Carlos stated. Lando looked confused, "I hear nothing" Lando stated. Carlos's eyes widened trying to figure out where he should move to find his soulmate. In the frantic few minutes of Carlos running around the paddock like a headless chicken with a confused Lando calling out to him; the melody stopped just as it had started.
Y/N never thought she would find her soulmate, she was above the natural age most of her relatives and family had met theirs and she had given up hope on ever meeting hers. She was in a small store near an F1 race when she heard the faint sound of smooth operator playing. She chalked it down to it being played at the race because it was a running gag with Carlos, her favourite Formula One driver. Y/N wasn't able to secure tickets to the race and just enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the race from the entrance, retreating to her hotel to try and enjoy a F1 free vacation.
Carlos waited days and months to be able to hear the song again, but with all the travelling it wouldn't have been possible. He just wished he had tried harder and maybe than he would've met his soulmate by now. His spirit was wounded to say the least.
Carlos then proceeded to hear smooth operator a few more times, but the melody was so faint that anyone would've missed it. His ears had started to pick up on the song whether it was being played or not.
Y/N finally got tickets to a F1 race. She used to watch the races with her siblings and being able to experience it with them was a dream come true for her. They had packed their bag and headed off to Spain. Ever since she had landed, she could hear the faint buzzing of smooth operator. She chalked it up to being obsessed with Carlos that, that was she was hearing it. She had made beaded bracelets for him and her siblings had made posters for the track side. It was Carlos's home race and she was so excited to be able to see him race in his home turf. As she had only gotten tickets for the race day, she spent the rest of her time in Barcelona with Smooth Operator playing. She thought it was probably the song currently stuck in her head. A thought did cross her mind; what if it was her soulmate song, but quickly pushed it off since the volume didn't seem to increase of decrease constantly.
Carlos was on edge, he could hear the song playing over and over again, the melody taunting him. The volume had increased on Friday but had remained constant the whole weekend, making it difficult to communicate with his race engineer. This was really throwing his mind off track since he couldn't focus on anything but the thought of his soulmate being so close yet so far away.
It was race day and both Carlos and Y/N were getting ready for the day. Y/N held all the bracelets she made for the drivers and fellow fans in hand as she distributed it to her fellow 55ers. She hoped to meet Carlos as he drove in. A little while after she had gotten on the track, the volume of the song playing in her ears had increased. Was she about to meet her soulmate? was all she could think about as the volume kept increasing. Y/N kept an eye out for anyone, in hopes that maybe, just maybe. She felt stupid for hoping when never thought she'd meet her soulmate.
As Carlos's car halted to a stop in the parking lot, the song had gotten quite loud, loud enough to make it difficult to focus. Carlos was extremely excited by it. He hopped out of the car and started scanning the area for his soulmate. He walked around for a bit before proceeding to the fans when he felt like he would go deaf with how loudly the song was blaring. He looked around for anyone who was also being affected by it. And than he saw it. A girl who's eyes were frantically scanning the area. Carlos stumbled forward to stand in front of her and as their eyes met, they knew since the song suddenly stopped, like the whole world stopped. Y/N slipped a bracelet into his palm while Carlos tried to walk away, not to cause a big scene. Y/N pulled her siblings aside and told them what had just happened and they couldn't stop jumping in excitement.
He asked his cousin to help get the girl into the garage. His cousin was quick to get her and her siblings in. Y/N was anxious and worried and excited. She couldn't believe Carlos was her soulmate. What good karma had she acquired to have him as her soulmate, she wondered.
Y/N was ushered into the garage, Carlos was seen waiting, his hair a mess from running his hands through it so many times. The pair stood in front of each other, "Carlos" she whispered and Carlos took her in. Dressed in his colours with his number on her cap and looked at the bracelet in his hand which read, idc ur my soulmate. It was supposed to be a joke, but right now neither of them were laughing. "Not fair you know my name" Carlos spoke, breaking the silence. "Y/N" she laughed. "Can't believe it" she said turning around to stop herself from fan girling. "You better believe it because I'm here to stay" he stated. She turned around to look at him once more, taking him in, not Carlos Sainz Jr, Formula One driver but Carlos Sainz, her soulmate. "That bracelet was supposed to be a joke" she stated as she saw him put it on. "And now it will be something I will wear forever" Carlos said, kissing the bracelet on his hand. "I never thought I would meet my soulmate but it was totally worth the wait" she smiled at him with tears in her eyes. "I always knew I would meet you and I'm glad I didn't lose hope" he smiled back, wrapping her in his embrace. The pair stood there for a while before breaking away, "Gonna have to win the race to show you how good I am" Carlos said. "I know how good you are but a race win doesn't sound bad" she replied.
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f1amour · 4 months ago
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˖ ࣪ 𖥔 DAYLIGHT — OSCAR PIASTRI
[ social media au ]
pairing: oscar piastri x sainz!reader
face claim ★ paola_cossentino
authors note: this is all fiction not hating on any drivers purposely it is just for the story. thinking of making this a little series if anyone has any requests form this pairing send them my way <3
navigation | masterlist (coming soon)
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yourusername endless bubble baths with lover boy 🫧🤍
➥ view comments below
user1 they say carlos is the good looking one of the siblings but…y/n is a goddess, she wins
user2 it’s almost been a year PLEASE TELL US WHO IT IS
carlossainz55 i would to know as well please. also please block me when you post photos like this.
landonorris same
charles_leclerc same
maxverstappen1 same (i already know)
alex_albon same
user3 she’s been in a relationship for a year and her brother and friends are yet to know is CRAZY
alexandrasaintmleux can’t wait to see you next week!! (and lover boy too i guess🙄)
charles_leclerc YOU KNOW?! TELL ME PLEASE MON AMOUR
carlossainz55 she knows but you haven’t told your family?😔
yourusername can’t wait to see you 🫶🏼
yourusername replied to carlossainz55 the family knows except you…sorry hermano. you might purposefully crash into him on the track.
lilymhe gorgeous girl ✨💗
iamrebeccad carlos is freaking out now. you basically told him lover boy is on the grid😭
user4 i love how none of the guys know but all the wags know about lover boy
user5 PAUSE. LOVER BOY IS A DRIVER OMG.
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After weeks of speculating who may be the mystery boyfriend of Y/n Sainz sister of Carlos Sainz Jr. it was revealed a few days ago that Oscar Piastri is the guy she has been going out with for almost a year now.
Y/n Sainz is known for her fashion icon status but most known for her songwriting skills collaborating with artists like Olivia Rodrigo, Harry Styles, Billie Eilish, Niall Horan, Sabrina Carpenter, Ariana Grande, and Taylor Swift. She has yet to release her own music but it has been teased that 2025 might be the year she finally shares her own musical talents.
Y/n Sainz, 25 and Oscar Piastri, 22 arrived to the Melbourne airport ahead of the Australian Grand Prix next week which is the McLaren’s driver home race.
It had become gossip around the paddock regarding who the mystery boyfriend of the youngest Sainz sibling could be as only a handful of drivers were single. Some had started speculating Lando Norris was her new beau seeing as he has a close relationship with her brother but that was shut down when Lando was asked about the rumor in an interview.
It then became a rumor that the mystery boyfriend was Williams driver Logan Sargeant as they had shared a few hugs in the paddock and were seen at the same restaurant at the start of this year. But he has then shut down that rumor confirming he is in a relationship already.
Others started speculating Y/n was seeing Lance Stroll after he left a few likes and comments on her most recent provocative posts. Y/n was the one to shut the rumor down with a simple “lol. no.” on a comment left by a fan asking if she was dating the Aston Martin driver.
Fans started speculating the fashionista & song writer was back with her ex boyfriend, NBA player Devin Booker. They were in a long term relationship for 5 years but were constantly off and on. Fans believed Y/n was making up a cover story so everyone could focus on the drivers of Formula One and who she may be dating out of all of them instead of the fact she got back with her ex.
Y/n’s team refused to comment on the last rumor. The pair did not finish on the worst terms but not in the best either and have tried their best to avoid each other at any events they attend.
Now to the one who was not expected on this rumor mill up until now: Oscar Piastri. The 22 year old had shared his crush on the girl since being a reserve driver for Alpine in 2022. He even follows a few fan pages of the girl and was always one of the first people to like her posts.
Everyone teased him about it and still did during the 2023 season which was when he started dating the youngest Sainz. Y/n has shared a few moments with the McLaren driver but nothing that would alarm anyone into thinking they were seeing each other.
MORE ARTICLES BELOW…
Y/N SAINZ SPOTTED WITH OSCAR PIASTRIS FAMILY ON A DAY OUT AT THE BEACH
CARLOS SAINZ SEEN CHASING OSCAR PIASTRI AROUND THE PADDOCK
Y/N SAINZ AND OSCAR PIASTRI MAKE PADDOCK DEBUT
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liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri, charles_leclerc, mclaren, landonorris, and 457,385 others
oscarpiastri thanks for all the birthday wishes 🎉 special thanks to the gorgeous girl supporting me throughout this race weekend and for the rest to come. i love you to the moon.
tagged — yourusername
➥ comments below…
user1 ITS OFFICIAL OMG
user2 “for the rest to come” they are endgame.
carmenmmundt my favorite couple. happy birthday, oscar!
yourusername my favorite person. forever thankful to you. we would not be here if you didnt set us up that night lol
oscarpiastri thank you, like my star said we’ll forever be thankful to you setting us up
user3 “my star” HES DOWN SO BAD. also carmen set them up?! i love this so much
landonorris happy birthday mate!
yourusername just realizing your poster comes out in the last picture 🤨
landonorris even in photos i will thirdwheel 😌
yourusername i tried adding 23 candles but they said it could create a fire hazard. loser mclaren 😡
oscarpiastri we can have a redo at home anything you want
mclaren we have to keep our papaya queen safe✨
landonorris thought that was me 🥲
yourusername you’ve been replaced 😙
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liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmmundt, carlossainz55, landonorris, nicolepiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, and 1,495,538 others
yourusername my lover boy. my sunshine. my daylight. my world. my home. my safe space. all in one. getting set up on a date that we thought was meant to be a group dinner only to arrive at the same time expecting to see our friends but ended up just being you and i all night. it will be my favorite date ever. to know you is to know what love is and to have found a best friend in a lover. you are mine, my sunshine. te amo, oscar🏹☁️🤍🧸
tagged — oscarpiastri
➥ comments below…
user1 1m likes in 5 minutes is CRAZY. oscy/n nation has take over 😌
user2 she made him a playlist of songs that make her think of him AND RELEASED A SONG SHE WROTE AND SUNG. Y/N SINGING DEBUT!!!
user3 she wrote him a song?! what is it called?
user2 daylight! it’s the most romantic song she has ever written. give it a listen trust me you won’t regret it user3
alexandrasaintmleux my favorite couple 💗
liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri
charles_leclerc collab when?
yourusername when and where?😌
lilymhe so happy the guys will stop annoying us to tell them who the bf was
alexalbon yeah i won’t ever get over all the girlfriends and wives knowing about this but not us 🤨
georgerussell63 same
pierregasly same
maxverstappen1 same (again i already knew)
lewishamilton jokes on everyone i caught them making out behind the mclaren motorhome last year, they said i was the first one to know
nicolepiastri thank you for reciprocating his crush on you😂 the family loves you and how great you two are together 💕
yourusername had to make his dream come true🤷🏻‍♀️ thank you for raising an amazing son! i love you and the rest of the piastri family 🫶🏼
carlossainz55 he really makes you happy…
yourusername he really does. it’s all you ever wanted for me, right? i’m not a little girl anymore, carlos. you don’t have to protect me anymore
carlossainz55 i’ll always protect my hermanita but…i can see how much he cares about you. and how much he loves you. i’ll stop chasing him like a mad man around the paddock…for now.
landonorris good. poor lad was starting to almost pass out after he would escape you😂
oscarpiastri my greatest gift i have received is you (and deylight) my pretty girl, i’m forever going to love you until we are old and wrinkly and until our last day on this earth. i will love you in all other universes. thank you for loving me. the love of my life, you are my love and life
yourusername making me cry, osc☹️ hurry up and get to the hotel so i can kiss you
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago
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INFECTED WITH INFATUATION ♡
pairing: carlos oliveira x fem!reader
summary: you and carlos are out on a mission when you come into contact with an unfamiliar plant specimen. the effects are unexpected to say the least.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dubcon (cause of the pollen), sex pollen, breeding kink, overstimulation
wc: 6k
a/n: omggg kinktober already over halfway done. crazyyy. i hope you guys like this one. it was fun to write so thank you to the person who requested. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <3
kinktober slot: day 17 - sex pollen
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"Carlos, watch out!" you shout.
Your partner, the man you called out to, takes heed of your warning as soon as it hits his ears. He ducks down, giving you a clear shot at the overgrown spider crawling down the hedged corridor at the two of you. The moment you have a lock on the target, you shoot. You never hesitate in the field. It only took you one day of dealing with bioweapons to learn that lesson.
Your finger presses down on the trigger of your gun hard, firing multiple rounds right at the creature. The bullets tear through its flesh. Its limbs fumble, and it crumples to the ground. Your heart slows down a little. The sight of its death helps to calm your nerves.
Carlos pops back up, his black hair swishing out of his face with the motion. He turns to you with an approving smirk across his lips.
"Nice work, sharpshooter," he says.
You roll your eyes at the nickname. He'd given it to you after your first mission together in which you encountered an infected dog and managed to miss every single shot you fired at the thing. It had been first day nerves you insisted, and so far, that had proven to be true. But that wouldn't stop Carlos from making fun of you.
The two of you walk over to the deceased organism. You silently thank every possible higher power that this mission is almost over. There's only one more sector after this one, and then the two of you are done for a few weeks.
You hesitate to get too close to the arachnid. Even though it lies there motionless, some sort of innate survival instinct told you no. Your eyes scan it with disgust, looking at the coarse hairs and the multitude of eyes. Gross. You would just have to step around the thing.
With extreme caution, you traverse over its large legs. You wonder what kind of psychopath would want to engineer spiders and make them this big. Your feet land firmly on the ground with every stride you take. The absolute worst case scenario here would be falling over onto it and finding out it still has some life left. Another few steps though, and you're in the clear.
However, your partner apparently does not possess the same inherent fear of spiders you do. He walks over the dead thing without any extra care. In the process, his boot catches on the end of its thorax.
You watch as a baby spider bursts from it and bolts away from the body, making a beeline towards you. And you know it's ridiculous. You know it's humiliating. But you scream.
You're not sure if it's because it's tinier and faster or because it's appearance is so sudden. Either way, you shriek. You recoil before you can control your reaction. Shooting at it would probably be smarter, but in your panic, you don't want to blow a hole through Carlos's foot. You just jerk back and accidentally send yourself tumbling into a bush.
Luckily, he's quick to get to it, not discharging his weapon at all. He simply stomps on it with his large boot. It squishes beneath the sole and splatters on the dirt. His eyes then turn to you in the foliage.
Laughing a little, he heads over to you and parts the leaves. He looks at you with that same smug expression and extends a hand.
"Need some help down there?" he asks.
You glare at him but still accept the offer. It would be easier to get out of this mess of branches and little pink flowers with his aid. You reach out and wrap your fingers around his palm, feeling the warmth of it in your grasp. He pulls you up, and you shamefully watch his bicep flex as he does.
On the way to your feet though, he hisses in pain.
"Ah, fuck," he mutters, letting go of you as soon as you're upright.
He pulls back and brings his arm to his body, holding it there and examining the source of pain. You step closer to try and look too. Your eyes catch the sight of the injury almost right away. It would be hard for anyone to miss.
A red stripe spans from the outer side of his forearm to up just past his elbow. The ending of the cut seems like a deep gash while the beginning is only a thin line. Blood already begins to trickle onto his skin. It looks like a thorn had snagged him while helping you off the ground.
You pull a small cloth from the pouch attached to your belt.
"Here, let me see," you offer, your voice softer as your mind snaps into a more caring frame. It's the one you used to use everyday when you worked as a medic. Before you had been roped into this mess with mercenaries.
He offers his limb up to you without resistance. If there was anyone he trusted to look at him, it was you. After most missions, he stayed with the doctors Umbrella provided for the mandatory observation period, but you were the one to actually patch him up. With you, there were no ulterior motives or chances of being double-crossed. You wanted to help people, and that's what you did for him.
You do it right now as you take the small piece of material and dab up the crimson fluid seeping from his wound. He grunts as you get closer to the source.
"Sorry," you say. You try extra to remain gentle, lightly swiping at the edges of the injury. "Looks like a piece of the plant caught you. I can take a better look at it later, but for now, you should be fine. You're not bleeding too much," you tell him.
He nods and gets back to holding his weapon in the proper position. The two of you continue onward in the direction of your target. You only hope you've seen the last of those spiders.
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Fortunately, your wish had been granted. You and Carlos hadn't encountered any more spiders, big or small, for the rest of the mission. The path to the objective from the sight of the last one had been pretty easy, presenting no real challenges.
The two of you made it back to the nearest Umbrella base for the night following a short ride there. You had to get checked out first and now stay overnight for the waiting period as was the procedure for all field operatives. The idea was to ensure you all didn't harbor any infections that remained undetected during the examination. But after that, you'd be home free.
You'd already completed the mandatory screening with the doctor. After finding nothing out of the ordinary, you headed to the assigned room they'd given you for the next twelve hours. It was pretty small, just a bed, table, chair, and shelf. You didn't need anything more though.
You change out of your grimy cargo pants and black sweater and pull on a much more comfortable pair of gray sweats and a t-shirt matching in color. Laying on the stiff mattress, you take a few moments to decompress from the earlier events. Your body seems to hold a dull ache all over, something you attribute to the heightened stress you experienced for hours on end. Your adrenaline has started to wear off, and as it recedes, the ability to feel in entirety returns.
Some time goes by, and Carlos knocks on the frame of your door. It feels like only moments have passed, but in reality, you're sure it's closer to thirty minutes. You look up at him with curious eyes.
"You need something?" you ask.
He walks in, and you see he's also changed. A charcoal t-shirt covers his upper body while gray sweatpants adorn his waist. You try to keep your gaze casual although it would be obvious to anyone with eyes that he looks statuesque in them.
"I was wondering if you're too tired to take another look?" he asks.
Sitting up, you pat the space next to you on the small bed. "Never too tired for my favorite patient," you answer with a small smile.
He returns the fond expression and takes a seat. You take your medical pouch off the table next to the bed. Unzipping it, you pull out the few things you predict you'll need. He rolls up his sleeve even though it's not necessary, allowing you to see his arm in full glory.
"You know they do have doctors here. Ones with much better equipment than me," you say teasingly as you rip open a small cleaning wipe.
He looks at you and shrugs. "I doubt they'd know how to use it as well," he says.
You shake your head and rub the alcohol-soaked patch across his wound. He hisses from the sting but manages to hold still. Your fingers work as quickly as they can, not wanting to prolong his suffering. You clean the dried blood off and make sure the open cut has been completely tended to. But your eyes narrow as you look at his skin.
"The doctors did look at you, right?" you ask.
"Yeah, why?" he responds.
"They cleared you?" you check.
And he nods. Maybe he was right not to trust them.
"Well, this doesn't really look normal," you say with uncertainty, "You have some discoloration around the cut. Your veins look a bit darker than they should. It could be an infection."
His eyes find yours. You can see in his stare that he's looking for reassurance.
"Does it hurt at all?" you continue.
"No. I mean, a little. Feels like I have a giant scrape on my arm. But not more than normal," he says.
A puff of air leaves your nose as you try to think. "Hm. You might be ok then, could be just some abnormal pigmentation," you offer, "I've never seen an infection manifest this fast, but if it were already showing, you'd probably have some symptoms too."
"So you think I'll live?" he jokes.
You scoff and nudge his arm away, putting up a playful front. 
"Don't ask me that," you say. 
In truth, you didn't want to think about Carlos dying. You'd seen so many people die since joining this task force. Your worst fear when coming into work was seeing that happen to the one you care most about.
"Alright," he concedes and surrenders, but his attitude doesn't dampen any.
You pull up your small roll of gauze next and begin to bandage him up. With careful hands, you rotate the thin material around his forearm, making sure to cover the entire scratch in a durable layer. The room is so quiet. There's no sounds except for the two of you breathing. You're tempted to say something and cut through the silence, but you don't. The moment feels intimate. It feels wrong to try and interrupt it.
When you finish wrapping his arm, you tear the gauze and tuck it under to keep it in place. Clearing your throat, you pat his shoulder and give him another sweet smile.
"All done," you say.
"Do I get a reward for being so well-behaved?" he asks. His voice lowers, and he leans in the slightest bit closer to you.
Heat blooms in your stomach and spreads up to your chest, but you'd never let him see the effect he has on you.
"Get outta here," you say and give him a light push.
He laughs and rises to his feet. He heads over to the door but doesn't leave before turning back to look at you again.
"Thanks, sharpshooter," he says.
"You got it, soldier," you respond with a small mock salute.
He shuts the door behind him after that. You put your things back in your pouch and lay back in bed again. A sudden wave of tiredness crashes into you. Sighing, you rub your face and yawn. Tonight it didn't seem like you'd have any trouble sleeping, a rare blessing as of late.
Rolling over, you wince as you feel a small burst of pain in the back of your thigh. You're so exhausted though that you chalk it up to a pulled muscle and resign to check it out when you wake. All you really want to do right now is knock out until the sun is up and the transport vehicle is ready to drop you off at the airport to go home.
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It's still dark out when your eyes flutter open. The lids feel heavy with sleep. Your brain wants to be unconscious again, but something has pulled you from the comfort of sleep. It might be the fact that you're burning up.
Your entire body feels as though fire rages within it. Sweat coats your skin and causes your t-shirt to stick to you. You can feel your pillowcase beneath your head damp with it. You sit up, but you have to do so slowly because of how the simple motion causes the room to spin. You try to blink the dizziness away to no avail.
Once you're upright, you feel more conscious though. You're able to better assess your symptoms and maybe pinpoint the cause. You register that you feel tingly. Fizzling sparks rampage all throughout your body; though, the most intense area seems to be the back of your thigh. You peel down your sweats a bit and arch your back to try and get a look.
Your eyes widen as you find a puncture wound with the same discoloration you saw on Carlos.
Fuck, you must have landed on a thorn in that bush and not realized it with everything else going on. Panic rushes through you at the thought of being infected with something that shows symptoms so fast, but a more intense surge of it floods you when you realize that this means Carlos has it too.
You try to get out of bed to go inform him of your discovery, but a round of cramps doubles you over and has you curling up on the twin-sized mattress to ride out the pain. Small whimpers exit your lips. They were so intense, worse than any period cramps or stomach aches you'd ever experienced.
They start to ease up after about a minute, but it's then that you begin to notice the constant throbbing between your thighs. In the midst of all this other stuff coming to light in your groggy condition, you hadn't really noted how consistent it was, but it seems to have grown stronger after that bout of pain.
A strong pulse emanates from your clit. You whine and shove your hand in your panties to try and rub it away. A few strokes bring little pleasure, but not enough to ward it off for good.
You realize your breasts feel heavy too. With every breath you take, they call out for a pair of hands to cup them and squeeze them, to fondle them and toy with your nipples. Just some form of stimulation.
Your legs bend up to your chest while your hand still fruitlessly fumbles around between your thighs. You whimper in frustration now. These symptoms are unlike any of the infections you've encountered in your career. You're not sure what to do.
As you're trying to formulate some sort of plan, your door opens. Carlos stumbles in. He looks to be in the same condition as you. The gray fabric of his t-shirt is soaked in sweat at the underarms and neckline. His skin glimmers in the dim light while he looks at you with hooded eyes. The door shuts behind him, and the air between you feels thick. His scent drifts to you across the room, making you squeeze your thighs together hard with desire.
It takes everything you have to not lunge across the room and pounce on him like an animal in heat. From the strained expression on his face, it's not a wild guess to imagine he feels similar. He's panting, leaning against the wall for support.
"Safe to say we're infected with something, huh?" he chokes out.
You turn your head and nod against your pillow, unable to bring yourself to look at him anymore. If you did that, you wouldn't be able to control your reaction.
"What should we do?" he asks.
You have no clue how he's managing to stand or speak or even think through these questions. All your mind can conjure at the moment are visions of him on top of you. They're so vivid you can almost feel the sensations of them. You see him above you with your legs over his shoulders, plowing into your cunt with no reserve or hesitation. Visions of you on your stomach also flash through your mind. You picture him with an iron grip on your hips, pumping his thick, meaty cock into your dripping hole over and over and over.
It's enough to bring a moan out of you. Carlos winces at the sound, and he approaches your bed. You're visibly faring worse than him. Maybe it's because you have a puncture wound, and he has a simple scratch. Or maybe it's just a difference in your biology. You're not sure, and there's no way you're going to figure it out while you feel like this.
He cautiously lays a hand on your arm, and you moan again. But this time the sound is so much needier. It echoes between the four walls of this small bedroom, the volume enough to cause concern that you would wake other employees here. He pulls his hand back and looks down at you. Your hips rock on your hand, humping it desperately in an attempt for friction.
Your eyes crack open and cast onto him. You intend to look up at his face, but with where he's standing, right at eye level is the huge tent in his pants.
His cock strains against the gray material. You can see the outline perfectly. The sight makes your mouth water. You don't know what's happening with you. Sure, you'd always found Carlos attractive. Maybe you could say you have a little crush on him, but it was never anything so raw. You thought he was charming more than anything. Never before had you just wanted to tear off both your own and his clothes and start going at it.
He sees where your eyes lock on, and he feels a strong burst of arousal in his stomach.
"Hey, hey. Look at me," he instructs and pushes you by the shoulder onto your back.
You look up into his eyes. Your mind finds peace in them. They're serene and calm and offer a sense of comfort despite every other part of your body going haywire.
Your own hand reaches up and wraps around his wrist. You tug his palm down onto your breast. His brows raise, but he makes no move to pull it away. Instead, he gives the mound a squeeze, relishing the way you arch your back and mewl for him.
"Wait," he tries to resist, tries to be the responsible one, "Are you sure we should... do this kind of stuff? What if it makes this worse? We don't know what's happening yet."
If you weren't so wound up, you'd probably laugh at the way he poses the question. The man who could flirt with you like there was no tomorrow asking if you should do "stuff." But you don't laugh because "stuff" is all you want to do.
"I don't know what's happening. All I know is I need you," you rasp and start pulling his arm more, trying to get his entire body on top of your own.
He half indulges you, beginning to climb on the bed before stopping above you. Looking down at your lust-stricken form, he wants you so bad. His cock leaks precum with the urge to just slip inside. But at the same time, Carlos does like you. Really likes you. It isn't a maybe with him - he has a crush on you. And while thoughts of you spread beneath him happen to be what he jerks off to each morning in the shower, part of him can't help worrying that if he takes advantage of this, things between you two will shift and fracture.
"Are... are you sure?" he asks. Words are hard when your scent clouds the air around him and you look up at him with needy eyes like this.
You want to tell him to stop talking and just fuck you senseless already, but your lust-stricken brain seems to comprehend that in order to get fucked dumb, you have to handle his concerns first.
"I want it. I need you inside me. Please just give it to me," you whine. Your legs squirm, and you tug on him again. He's still hesitant. Looking into his eyes, you whimper, "You'll still be my favorite."
And that's apparently good enough for him. That brief statement of reassurance shatters the thin pane of resistance he had left. After hearing those words, he collapses on top of you in a flurry of passion. His lips collide with yours. He pants against your face and squeezes your hips.
Your tongues meet and slide against each other as your mouths move. One of your hands slides around the back of his head to grip his shaggy, dark locks. He groans and bucks his hips against your thigh. Your other hand rubs his chest, fingers digging into the muscle with desire.
He leans back for a split second and rips off his shirt. Under more delicate circumstances, you probably would have admired his sculpted figure. You would have traced your fingertips along the defined lines of his abs, swirled the delicate pads around his nipples and up to his collarbone. 
But not right now.
You don't possess the ability to move with that much focus or care right now. Instead, you reach out and pull him back down again, almost crushing yourself with his bulky frame. It's worth it though because you lick up his happy trail, tracing your tongue over the contours of his muscles. He moans from the light touch before scooting down so he can remove your shirt and have access to your breasts.
"Look at these. Fuck," he says in awe. He gropes them, hands rough as they feel up the plump flesh.
He lowers himself on top of you again and kisses down your collarbone to your chest. You whimper as his mouth glides over the swells of your breasts before latching onto one nipple. He sucks with fervor, eyes fluttering shut as he focuses on the task. You gasp and moan. Between your legs, he ruts against the mattress.
His tongue swirls around your stiffening bud. He laves the smooth wetness over it a few times before switching to the other and giving it the same treatment.
"Been wanting to see these tits so fuckin' bad," he mumbles.
"You have?" you whimper, still squirming from the attention directed at your chest.
"Course I have. Those tight little sweaters you wear, the way they bounce every time you fucking move. God, drives me crazy," he mutters.
He spends some more time on your breasts before relenting and shoving down his sweats. His cock all but jumps out, eager for some attention as well.
"I've been wanting to see that so bad," you breathe.
You have to rub your thighs together once you get a look at his length. It's long and meaty just like you predicted. There are prominent veins spanning from the base upward. The tip is already leaking for you, oozing sticky white precum. His heavy balls hang below. All you can think about is how bad you need them drained inside of you.
He tears off your soaked panties and wastes no time slotting himself at your wanting hole. With both of you in frenzies of carnality, there's no teasing. He doesn't rub it over your folds or work himself in. No. In one go, he slams himself inside. A deep, guttural sound rumbles in his chest while a breathy whine erupts from you.
Your eyes roll back while your toes curl down below. You nearly cum from that stroke alone. He just fits you so perfectly. Even through the amorous fog that clouds your mind, you can't help wondering why you didn't do this sooner.
Just like in the flashes you saw minutes ago, his hands clamp around your waist. He doesn't take time to set a pace or give you a few moments to adjust to the girth of him. As soon as he's had the first taste of that warm, wet heat, he's slamming in and out of your little pussy with no thought.
His hot skin slaps against yours. Both of you pant with exertion while the cot below you scrapes against the concrete floor. Your legs bend upwards and you hold them to make sure nothing gets in the way of his thrusts.
Each time his cock slides all the way in, you think you see heaven. Your vision blots with white and then splotches of color. Your brain feels as though it's melting out your ears in the most blissful sensation. You're pretty sure you don't actually need thoughts anymore. Why would you when this seems like the only thing you'll wanna do ever again?
You bounce around with his strength pounding against you. Your head bobbles while your tits sway up and down. His head has been tilted back for a while, but he drops it now to look at the sight of you before him.
"Fuck, baby. You take my dick like you were made for it," he grunts.
Your walls squeeze him tight as a reward for saying that. He groans and fucks into you harder. The rhythm breaks for a moment. He has to slow down to deliver the small collection of particularly harsh thrusts.
With each one, his tip rams further inside you. The fourth one strikes some trigger inside you that rips a yelp from you and rockets you over the edge. Your body shudders hard beneath him while your walls spasm desperately.
"Hnghhh- Carlos- ah! You're fuckinmesogood," you babble out, eyes drooping so much they're practically closed.
You hear him growl above you and then feel his weight collapse onto your body. Your thighs are smooshed between the two of you, keeping you bent in half. He's as deep as physically possible now. That you're certain of. His cock kisses the opening of your womb with each jolt of his pelvis, making you cry out in an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain.
His head closes in on yours, connecting the two of you in a sloppy kiss. You move without sense. Every action stems from a place of pure desire.
He knows he's getting close. And he also knows he should pull out. But he honestly doesn't know if he can right now. He's burning so hot for you that in his head, the loss of your tight walls wrapped around him may seriously result in death. It doesn't just feel good, it's pure euphoria. He's not even at the peak yet, but this feeling right now is more intense than any orgasm he's had before.
"Fuck-" he growls, trying to work up the will to slide back and burst on your stomach instead. His mouth falls away from yours, landing against the crook of your neck. "You're making this so hard for me, sweetheart," he grumbles.
You're so shaky and blissed out that the words almost pass you by, but his close proximity allows you to catch them. You know what he means without him having to say it because you feel it too. A deep yearning in the most carnal recesses of your soul, a craving for him to sate the most base desire burning within you.
"Just do it," you whimper, lazily rolling your hips up, "Cum inside."
His muscles tense. You can feel them twitching against you.
"Don't say that," he breathes.
A petulant whine seeps from between your lips. You pull him closer by the shoulders with more force, digging your nails into the skin.
"Finish inside, Carlos. Pleaseeeeee," you try again, "I'll worry about it later. Just need you to fill me up so fucking bad."
His resolve chips away piece by piece with each strike from your pleas. Reasons to detach from you that had seemed logical moments ago lose whatever little appeal they had. His mind feels overcome by the desire to pump you full of his release, to fuck his seed deep inside your awaiting cunt, to let it take.
With a rough snap, he throws his head back and groans. His fingers dig into the plush flesh of your hips. The high overcomes him in a powerful blow, whisking the air from his lungs. It makes him feel lightheaded, actions completely guided by impulse created under the influence of whatever that plant had sapped into the two of you.
Hot, thick ropes of cum shoot against your inner walls. You whine at the sensation, eyes fluttering and rolling back in satisfaction. He works it into you over and over till the urge is sated.
Finally, he feels like he won't lose all capability to function if he pulls out. He eases his hips back, slowly freeing himself from the sinful confines of your slick walls. Every inch he reveals shimmers with the combined gloss of his and your fluids. It coats the area between your thighs thoroughly, marking the site of your connection.
While the throbbing in your clit and the burning throughout your bones has lessened, dull remnants of them remain. Your chest puffs up and down as you catch your breath and recover from the intensity of before. The air still feels thick, just less like a landmine than before.
But when you gaze down between the two of you, your eyes land on his cock. He's still fully hard. The shaft stands forward proudly while the tip remains darkened in color. His need for more of you plainly visible to anyone who looked.
Your eyes flit from it up to his eyes, connecting in a tentative stare. The question between the two of you is left unspoken. Neither of you really need the words to understand that you both want more.
His hands fly to your waist again and flip you over onto your stomach. Your face squishes against the pillows as he boosts your hips to the right angle and slides right back inside. You whine at the intrusion, fingers gripping the pillow for some way to ground yourself.
He gives your ass a firm smack before leaning forward and boxing you in beneath him. You have no way of knowing for sure, but you're almost certain the thrusts reach deeper now. He's moving at the same frantic pace from before, yet every stroke feels like it bumps a sweet spot within you. That or you're just more sensitive from your previous release.
You can hear him panting in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. Every small grunt and soft growl drifts out behind your head.
"Fuck... think we should just do this till we're all better," he murmurs and nips at your shoulder.
"Mhm," you whine, arching your back and pushing your hips against him further. The next set of words comes out slurred and muffled both from your position against the pillow and the blurry state of your mind. "Never wanna stop. Just want you all the time."
He huffs out a laugh. "Yeah? That's what you wanna do, huh? Let me fuck you nonstop? Use you till you can't fucking move anymore? Breed you till I've had my fill?"
You mewl sharply and nod eagerly. "Uh huh, give it all to me till- ah! mmm... till we're both better," you whimper.
Skin continues slapping against skin in the otherwise quiet of the room. In the back of your mind, you wonder how far down the hall the sound echoes. It's a fleeting thought though, quickly overwhelmed by the repeated thoughts of how good you feel.
"Yeah? Maybe a baby in your belly is what you need. Maybe that's what we're supposed to do. Can't get this thing out of our system till we meet nature's demands," he rasps.
He doesn't even know what he's saying. He assumes the sudden desire to procreate comes from the infection, but the words feel as though they blossom from somewhere deeper. Whatever the case, it's obvious you like them. You clamp around his cock like you're trying to drain him dry.
"I'd probably fuck you like this every night if I saw you nice and round with my baby, sweetheart. Fuck, you'd look so good. Swollen in all the right places, aching for me to take care of you," he mumbles out.
"Give it to me. Want it so bad. Wanna... mmm fuck," you trail off, panting out the lasts of your desires.
The peak builds much faster for you two this time around. You squeeze around him till your rhythmic convulsions devolve into a burst of spasms. His thrusts land hard throughout his high, but you feel his muscles tense as he pumps another load into you.
Drops of his spend leak from your cunt and smear against both of your skin. This time he doesn't even bother pulling out. He knows he's still hard and that he has one, if not more, rounds in him. He keeps fucking you hard, through your cries of overstimulation and desperate squirming.
The rest of the night is a blur. You don't count how many times you go at it or keep track of the variety of positions you do it in. You know at one point you were on top, at another your head dangled off the edge of the mattress and bobbled around like that of a doll's. The intense passion and lust pervades all memories and casts the experience in a hazy fog.
All you're sure of is that now you feel better. For the moment, the two of you are satisfied, your bodies no longer alive with an electric craving for one another. Your head rests on his chest while the rest of you presses against his side. His hand rubs up and down your back in lazy, thoughtless strokes.
Neither of you say anything. Dashes of sunlight begin to shine through the windows that sit high on the wall. Both of you bask in the calm of the moment as you grapple with what happened.
"You think that cured us?" he asks softly after a while.
You pause before shrugging. "Can't say for sure, we'll have to wait and see," you say, looking up at him.
Somewhere inside of you, you believe that was it. That was the magic fix. You're almost certain that you fucked whatever that was out of your systems, but you want to be honest with him. Still, you can't help offering a little reassurance.
"We'll be ok," you say with a small smile.
He returns it. "If you're the one taking care of me, I don't doubt that," he teases.
You hum and squeeze your arms around his waist. Questions of a changed relationship status or potential future together going forward plague your mind, but you know it's not the time. If your supervisors hadn't heard the racket coming from in here, they'd realize something was up as soon as you and Carlos emerged from the same bedroom. You decide to take what semblance of peace with him you can get before having to face a possible onslaught of hazmat suits and probing tests.
Your eyes flutter shut as the beating of his heart lulls you into a state of peace. Even without the confirmation, you aren't worried about your connection. You're pretty confident that he'll be more than just your favorite patient in the coming weeks.
613 notes · View notes
lilasamaaa · 8 months ago
Text
Who says "I love you" first? Part One | F1 grid x Reader
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Genre | Angst, Fluff.
Featuring | Alex Albon, Pierre Gasly, Lewis Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Esteban Ocon.
Word count | 1.9K
Warnings | Alcohol consumption, mentions of jealousy, car crash, "cheating" (if you squint).
Author's note | Part two will be coming soon and will feature Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, George Russell, Carlos Sainz, Yuki Tsunoda and Max Verstappen :)
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Alex Albon
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He says it first.
For months, you had been preparing a huge project with your team at work. Months of hard work, sleepless nights, doubts, and anxieties. Even though you and Alex didn't live together and your job, along with his repeated travels had put your relationship to the test, he had been nothing but the perfect boyfriend during this time.
You were particularly moved one evening when, leaving your office past midnight, you'd stumbled upon a taxi patiently waiting outside the building, ready to take you home safely. And when you finally got back home, only to find a box from your favorite pizza place in front of your door. Alex was like that : deeply attentive. Caring. Devoted.
You had called your boyfriend on FaceTime, praying that he would already be awake on the other side of the world.
"Hey," had come his voice, still laced with sleep.
"Thank you so much for everything," you'd said, feeling tears welling up in your eyes from fatigue and emotion. "I had the worst day and this... this is so thoughtful. It makes everything better."
"Anything for you," Alex had replied. "I love you."
The words had come out so naturally that you'd almost dropped your phone as Alex yawned, still half asleep, not fully realizing what he'd said until your sudden silence alerted him.
"Oh, my god," he'd said, now fully awake. "That's not how I wanted to tell you."
"Well, I'm glad you did," you'd replied, tearing up again. "I love you too, you know."
Pierre Gasly
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You say it first.
You'd joined Pierre in Milan for the weekend after several weeks without seeing each other. After spending nearly twenty-four hours holed up at his place under the covers, showing each other just how much you'd missed one another, the second day had been an opportunity to enjoy the Italian sun.
You had started the day with a fresh orange juice on a terrace facing the Duomo, before exploring the city, its museums, and its shops from top to bottom. The repeated absences of the driver were becoming harder to handle, and you had come to the conclusion, a few days before your departure to Milan, that you had fallen hopelessly in love with the Frenchman. At the end of your day as tourists, Pierre had invited you to dinner in a candlelit restaurant, and you'd almost blurted it all out between the main course and dessert.
Those little words that had been swirling in your head for a week.
In your previous relationships, you had never been the one to take that first step. You'd been too afraid of scaring away your partners. Of being laughed at. But you loved Pierre, you were so sure of it. And you were almost sure that he did, too. So, you had decided that for once, you'd take the lead. Just once.
After your romantic dinner, you were strolling through the city, slowly making your way back to his apartment, when you'd spotted a photo booth by the roadside. Pulling Pierre by the sleeve, you'd both settled inside, laughing, him sitting on the small worn-out stool, you on his lap. The first photo had caught both of you by surprise. But for the second one, you were ready. Just milliseconds before the flash illuminated your faces, you had said it.
"I love you."
Years later, the series of four photos was still on your fridge, and you loved looking at the last one. The one where he'd grabbed your face, pressing a kiss against your lips, whispering, "I love you, too."
Lewis Hamilton
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You say it first.
Lewis had invited you to a photoshoot for the first time. What he hadn't specified, though (he would later swear he didn't know) was that the shoot was with his ex. And not just any ex, but the one he had been with just before you, that he hadn't seen since their breakup. The model with endless legs and hair like silk. The same girl you sometimes saw in the streets, printed on five-meter-high billboards, hanging from skyscrapers as if to taunt you.
Sitting on a chair, a coffee kindly offered by the photographer's assistant in hand, you were watching as the girl positioned her legs between your boyfriend's, tilting her head back, placing her hands on his chest. You'd never considered yourself a jealous girl. But there, you were absolutely boiling.
Each pose was worse than the last.
And each direction from the photographer was worse than the last. You weren't sure how many more "Closer, Lewis," or "Look more in love, Gigi" you could endure before you snapped and someone got hurt. Preferably her.
After a particularly close shot, their lips almost touching, you had suddenly risen, returning to the dressing rooms, mouth clenched and eyes shining. Lewis had followed you immediately, closing the dressing room door behind you, holding you close against his chest.
"That was too soon, I'm sorry," he had said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"It'll always be too soon," you had replied, eyes glistening. "No one's strong enough to watch the person they love play happy couple with their ex". You hadn't realized your words then, but he had. Stroking your hair, he'd said "Good thing I'm in love with you and not her, then," making you fall even harder for him.
Charles Leclerc
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He says it first.
If Charles had listened to himself, he would have told you he loved you within a week. He was that sure. Nothing he experienced with you felt familiar : not the way his heart raced when you looked at him through your lashes, nor the way you made him feel hot just by taking off your coat. His previous relationships had made him cautious, so the words slept quietly in his mind and on his tongue.
Even though he still blamed himself for making you worry so much, fate had it that the very first Grand Prix you attended was Monza, in 2020. The crash had been particularly violent, unexpected. The cameras hadn't missed a second of the spectacle unfolding in the paddock, zooming in on your horrified face, so scared of losing the one who had stolen your heart in just a few months. Years later, Charles still couldn't bear to see those images.
The following days had been quiet, Charles being ordered to rest and stay lying down as much as possible. One night, when you'd woken up alone in bed, you'd panicked before finding him in the living room, staring at his phone.
"What are you looking at?" you'd asked, sitting down next to him.
He had turned his phone towards you, showing a series of tweets featuring the sequence of you terrified after the accident.
"I hate knowing that I did that to you," he'd confessed, head low.
"Charles," you'd started, not sure how to put it. "As much as I hated witnessing this, you drive for a living. This probably won't be the only time I'm scared for you. I'm not planning on going anywhere, so... I'll have to get used to it."
The driver had looked at you, eyes filled with love, and the words had come naturally.
"I love you so much."
Lando Norris
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He says it first.
Lando and you had... history.
You two had been friends since high school. He was the first boy you ever had a crush on. Not the little crush that makes you blush and stutter, no, the real deal. The kind that makes you fall asleep crying, wondering if that boy will ever look at you as anything other than a good friend. High school had ended without any progression in your relationship, and your paths had diverged. You'd gone to college on the other side of the country, seeing him only occasionally, as he was heavily involved in racing and you almost never went home. Your paths had crossed again at a New Year's Eve party hosted in your hometown by one of your mutual friends.
You were so happy to see him again after more than six months apart that you wouldn't let go of him, following him everywhere, mimicking his every move. You knew you shouldn't have followed Lando into that territory. That you shouldn't have drunk so much. But you had done it. And soon enough, you'd been pressed against a wall, the driver kissing you as if his life depended on it.
You were on cloud nine. Convinced that after years of hiding your feelings for him, Lando had understood, Lando felt the same way, Lando, Lando... But Lando had kissed another girl. Then another. You'd left the house in a hurry as everyone counted down to midnight, trying to put together the pieces of your broken heart on the way home.
You hadn't expected someone to knock on your parents' door at 6 a.m. the next day. Even less to find Lando behind it, hair tousled, dressed like the night before, with dark circles under his eyes. He'd been holding a sorry excuse of a bouquet in his hand. Flowers... From your own garden, you'd noticed, raising an eyebrow. Your mother would be so mad at him. You'd opened your mouth, ready to send him back home, but he'd been faster than you.
"I know you hate me, believe me, I hate myself too. But I have to say it or I'll regret it forever. I love you. And I'm so sorry that it took me kissing other girls to finally notice it. I don't want no one else... I only want you, if you'll have me."
Your friends had told you that you were stupid for forgiving him so easily, but you'd kissed him again. Six years later, lying against him on a tropical beach on your honeymoon, you knew you'd made the right choice that day.
Esteban Ocon
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He says it first.
You hadn't been dating for long, a few months at best. One evening, though, he'd surprised you by pulling out the invitation to his cousin's wedding, asking if you'd like to accompany him.
Weddings are kind of sacred in your family. You don't just invite anyone, and you don't introduce just anyone to your entire family unless you're really serious about that person. Deep down, you were thrilled, trying not to freak out, reminding yourself that not everyone sees things the same way, and that for Esteban, this wedding might be an outing just like any other.
He'd come with you to choose a dress, finding the first one "so beautiful on you," the second one "absolutely stunning," the third one "breath-taking." You'd eventually realized that the driver wouldn't be of much help to you, fascinated by everything you'd worn. This alone should have told you everything you needed to know about the man's feelings, but you'd continued to doubt. Was this wedding as important to him as it was to you? Were you ready to meet his family?
The big day had finally come, and you were sure you'd have died of stress if Esteban hadn't held you by the waist the whole time, introducing you to everyone who'd passed by you two. His parents had seemed thrilled by your presence, showering you with compliments, emphasizing that it was the first time Esteban had invited a girl to a family event. It's important for him too, then, you'd thought.
The ceremony had passed, beautiful, and you'd found yourselves on the dance floor, swaying under blue and golden lights, lost in each other's eyes.
"I'm so glad everyone got to see how wonderful you are," he'd said, making your heart race. You thought he was done until he'd added, softly,
"I'm so glad I got to show everyone the woman I love."
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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months ago
Note
Hi, how are you? Hope everything's peachy. I've been waiting for your requests to be open since probably December. I figured, maybe I could leave you my thoughts and you'll decide what to do with them. Is that fine? 😅 You can throw it straight to the trash if you'd like.
So that now every F1 Team have a girl driver in F1 Academy, I thought maybe they want to promote the Academy more and includes it in DTS series. So the reader is a driver for Ferrari. They assign her to Carlos and they've to film a Training camp before the season. Carlos sort of being her PT. Plot twist: they HATE each other. But their combined fury can easily catch on fire and lead them to other type of sport, more sensual one. So it's like enemies but/to lovers sort of thing. A lot of arguing, angst but also a bunch of steamy sex
The Uphill Battle || CS55
Warnings: Smut, angst, name calling WC: 1.8k
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Pre-season Training - Dolomites This had to be the worst PR disaster in the making. Whoever thought it would be a great idea to pair you up with Jr Sainz needed to fall right off this mountainside. To make matters worse, they had a TV crew following you around all day and you were fairly sure your suite was bugged like Big Brother.
“Hurry up, I want to make it back in time for dinner,” Carlos growled as he stopped to look back at you. 
You narrowed your eyes, not that he could see them beneath the snow goggles, and sarcastically replied, “Oh no, baby boy can’t go to bed without his supper.”
He stabbed his sticks into the snow and pulled his googles up over his beanie. “You think I want to be out here babysitting a spoiled little brat? I am crawling just so you don’t get left behind and lost up here. Pick. Up. The. Pace.”
“Fuck you,” you spat as you pushed harder, your calves protesting the hardship you were putting them through to prove a point. You overtook the Spaniard and made sure to only just miss his foot from the piercing pike on your ski stick. “Keep up, Junior.”
You were both panting by the time you arrived back at the luxury accommodation in the resort town at the base of the mountain. You were starving but you were also damp with sweat beneath the layers of cashmere and feather-stuffed coats so you went straight to the private pool. You figured after the whining Carlos had done about his dinner you wouldn’t be disturbed in the heated outdoor pool, but you were wrong.
Carlos curled a brow at the trail of clothes that led from the twin penthouse suites to the rooftop pool they shared, each layer getting thinner until it ended with a sports bra and panties. Snow littered the ground and he shivered in his bathrobe as he watched you float on the surface of the steaming water with your eyes closed. You looked relaxed, peaceful. It was a look he rarely saw on your face and it immediately washed away when you opened your eyes and caught him watching.
“Dirty perv,” you hissed as you slipped back beneath the water up to your neck and covered your breasts. 
“I’m not the one going for a skinny dip. You’re just looking for attention.”
“I don’t have to look for attention, it comes looking for me,” you said as you eyed up the goosebumps on his legs below the robe. “I figured you were too busy stuffing your face.”
“The Netflix crew were in the dining hall,” he admitted quietly.
“Ah, so you are not nearly as comfortable in front of them as you act. Could have fooled me.”
“I don’t think that would be hard.”
“I hope your balls get frostbite.”
Carlos winced at the idea and took a step closer to the water's edge and the warmth it promised. 
“If you get in here with me we are going to have a problem,” you warned, swimming closer to defend your territory. “There’s no cameras around to keep you safe.”
Carlo snickered and dipped his foot in. “I’ve seen your training in the ring, I think I can handle it.”
“Brave words when you are all the way over there.”
Your blood could have heated the water to boiling point as he slipped his robe off and tossed it over the rail before taking another step in, then another. You watched the water disappear over his skin tight trunks and darken the happy trail before rising over his abs. The team at Ferrari at least assigned you someone who was taking their PT position seriously, you could see from his physique that he kept his own routine solid and you could learn a thing or two - if he wasn’t such an asshole.
“Take a picture, malcriada,” he said with a wink when your eyes finally reached his face.
“Such a shame,” you murmured wistfully.
“What?”
You dragged your eyes back over his body before sighing. “That a body that fine has a personality like yours.”
A wave splashed over you as he dove into the water and you lost sight of him in the dark. You should have put the underwater lights on but hadn’t wanted to light the water up when you hadn’t bothered to even change into a bikini. 
A large hand grabbed your ankle and you barely had time to inhale a breath before you were pulled under. Just as quickly as he grabbed you, he was gone again and you spluttered to the surface, wiping the water from your eyes. “Asshole!” 
“Is that the best you can do?” he laughed from the edge he was leisurely reclining against. 
“Come here and find out.”
He slipped beneath the water but this time you were prepared and met him halfway. Your bodies collided, twisting and turning trying to fathom some kind of dominance until your legs wrapped around his waist and he sank to the bottom with you on top. His hands found your thighs and dug into the soft skin until your lips parted with a sudden thought and the last of your air bubbled to the surface. 
“Not the attack I was expecting,” he taunted as he rose to the surface behind you. The water falling from his hair cooled as it dropped to your shoulder and his hand traced the curve of your neck. “Someone plays dirty.”
“I’m not playing.” Your voice wasn’t the cold detached sound you had hoped it would be, but a needy sigh. Your legs pressed together and you were suddenly reminded of how very naked you were. 
“Is that another invitation? You almost won that time.”
You turned around with a glare to find his smirk growing as wide as his pupils as he looked down at your body. “It’s not a fair fight anyway. I am naked and vulnerable.”
He chuckled at that. “I don’t think anyone could mistake you as vulnerable, malcriada, not with that prickly attitude and sharp tongue. But, if it would make you feel better about losing again…” his hands brushed over his hips and pushed his trunks down his thighs before he tossed them out of the pool. “Happy now?”
“I’m certainly something,” you murmured before realising you spoke aloud. Anger flushed your body again at the distraction he caused and you shoved your hand across the surface, spraying him in the face with the water. His momentary surprise was only that, momentary, and he leapt into your personal space with his own attack.
You weren’t quite sure how it happened, or how it started. Maybe the tension that had been brimming all week finally reached its breaking point and it was a mutual decision. One moment you were writhing to escape from his attack, your hands trying to find purchase on his body as you wriggled in his arms, the next you were writhing for an entirely different reason. 
His chest brushed over your sensitive peaks and your nails scraped down his back. Your legs tightened around his waist and felt the large length pressed between your stomachs. Your heads broke the surface but the gasp had nothing to do with the need for air when his palms squeezed your ass to hold you still. 
“What are you doing?” you moaned as you clit pressed to his shaft and every little movement rode you over the rigid veins. 
“I’m not doing anything,” he rasped, his voice dropping as he felt the heat of your core on him. “I’m trying to not fuck you right now.”
“Right, because you hate me,” you laughed humorlessly as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp but you both moaned at the feeling.
“No, because you hate me.”
It had been a while since you last had sex, that was the excuse you gave for being so needy and wanting to be filled right at that moment. “I can hate you and still want to fuck.”
Carlos stared into your eyes and saw the desire in them, felt the desire that had your nipples hard and begging for his mouth. “Fuck it,” he decided aloud. “I can hate you and still make you come.”
“Bold words.”
He didn’t give you a response, at least not in words. His strong hands lifted you higher and pulled you back down on his cock. Your teeth clamped around the muscle where his shoulder met his neck and he groaned at the pain and your muffled cry. 
“Fuck, you’re tight.”
“You’re too big,” you whispered as he slowly speared you down his shaft until you looked down your body expecting to see a bugle at your belly button. Easing you back up, he set a slow rhythm as your body adjusted to his size and walked you both to the edge of the pool.
“You can take it,” he promised as your legs untangled from around him and you found yourself facing the mountain you had climbed earlier. His hips snapped forward and buried himself back in you from behind and your cry echoed out into the night. “That’s it, make an avalanche, malcriada.”
You didn’t care that he called you brat. You didn’t care if you brought the mountain down on the whole town. You only cared about reaching your own high and you chased it with your hips, pushing back to meet him stroke for stroke. Waves rippled out across the water and soon turned to splashes as your core tightened and those ripples began to make their way down your spine.
“I can feel you shaking,” he teased in your ear, his hand snaking over your hip to find your clit. “Let go, dulce, let me feel you come.”
Your eyes slammed shut as waves of pleasure rocked through you and his name tumbled from your lips, betraying yourself with the reverent tone it held. His pleasure grew at the sound and he slammed himself as deep as he could in your cunt, letting your tight walls milk him as he came. There should have been anger at the idea of being filled with his seed, but you took delight in the liquid warmth pooling inside you. You had made him come undone, it was a win of sorts in your mind.
Satisfied for the moment, you pushed his body back and walked up the steps, into the biting cold night. Carlos was still high from his release and he didn't realise until it was too late. You were already halfway to the suites when he noticed his robe was missing, a quick scan of the snow confirmed his trunks had found the same fate.
“Brat!” he called out as you disappeared inside.
“Asshole.”
Click here for part two.
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eloriis · 3 months ago
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TRAITOR - carlos sainz
- inspired by traitor | olivia rodrigo
in which . . y/n struggle with the pain of betrayal after a breakup when carlos quickly moves on with someone else, leaving her questioning their entire relationship and the promises he broke.
warnings : a lowkey toxic relationship if u squint ur eyes at a few sentences, ntg else i think?
notes : second fully written work! ‘heather’ didn’t really do as well as i hoped it would tbh :( but i hope this one does better 🤞🏼 and lexi, i’m sorry if i made you cry but ily my hype girl 🫶🏼
and for a person who usually hates angst, i seem to write them the best 😓
plsplspls don’t ask for a part 2 for fics that do not have any info about them being a series.
type : written ⋆ word count : 1.2k
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brown guilty eyes and little white lies, yeah i played dumb, but i always knew
that you talked to her, maybe did even worse
i kept quiet so i could keep you
carlos’ big brown eyes were one of the prettiest ones i had ever seen in her entire life. no matter how common brown eyes were, his eyes would always be the ones i would look for in the crowd. i didn’t know the exact day when the eyes she knew she could always find comfort in suddenly became the ones i started avoiding. it all started with little white lies like “i can’t make it to the date tonight, i have to stay late for practice” or “i’m meeting with the boys tonight! don’t stay up late waiting for me”.
those texts never sat right in my heart; they sounded too fake, too scripted. i could never manage to go too deep into her own thoughts about what he actually might be doing with her while i was waiting for him to come back home.
and ain’t it funny
how you ran to her
the second we called it quits?
i could almost laugh through the pain while reading the new article about you and her being spotted by the paparazzi the day after we called finally ended all those years of being each other’s one and only.
and ain’t it funny
how you said you were friends?
now it sure as hell don’t look like it
he always said that they were just friends, that they were close due to a mutual friend. that’s what he told everyone who asked him about her. but all these recent pictures online don’t really make a good argument against them being a couple.
you betrayed me
and i know that you'll never feel sorry
for the way i hurt, yeah
you’d talk to her
when we were together
loved you at your worst
but that didn't matter
feeling betrayed wasn’t an emotion i was well versed in or had been anticipating to be in this life, clearly fate had other plans.
i kept hoping that i would maybe get a text from you, an apology for all those years of my life wasted on making sure you were okay when you were at your lowest and worst point of your life.
all those years wasted. all because you decided halfway that you wanted her and not me.
it took you two weeks
to go off and date her
guess you didn't cheat
but you're still a traitor
two weeks. that was all it took for you to move on from a relationship that lasted for years. everyone says that you guys look so cute together, maybe if you heard that enough before, you would have ended up with her earlier and not have been labelled a traitor in my heart.
now you bring her around
just to shut me down
show her off like she's a new trophy
we finally ran into each other at a bar almost three months after the breakup. the second you saw me, you pulled her by her waist and kissed her right in front of me, showing her off like she was a new trophy.
and i know if you were true
there’s no damn way that you
could fall in love with somebody that quickly
if you were as true to us as you claimed you were, i’m damn sure that there’s no way you could have actually been able to move on so quickly and fall in love with someone else.
ain’t it funny
all the twisted games
all the questions you used to avoid?
was whatever we had just some sick twisted game to you? one that you oh so badly had to play? all those questions that you always seemed to be too busy to answer suddenly came back to me, they seemed harmless at that time, if only i knew.
ain’t it funny?
remember i brought her up
and you told me i was paranoid
remember that one time i brought her name up during a conversation? how you called me paranoid and sick because of how i was villainising her, i had just asked you if she had to stay with us when she came to visit even though she has friends who live here.
you betrayed me
and i know that you'll never feel sorry
for the way i hurt, yeah
you’d talk to her
when we were together
loved you at your worst
but that didn't matter
you left my life without a second thought, and i know that you will never understand the pain of being the one to be left alone while the other moved on like none of it ever existed. you always wanted her in your life, even when i was right there. i stood by you through everything, through your lowest points, but it didn’t change anything in the end.
it took you two weeks
to go off and date her
guess you didn't cheat
but you're still a traitor
you really wasted no time jumping into her arms, as if what we had didn’t mean anything. maybe you weren’t unfaithful, but seeing the way you moved on so fast hurts the same.
god, I wish that you had thought this through
before i went and fell in love with you
when she's sleeping in the bed we made
don’t you dare forget about the way
i just wish that you had thought about what i would do after you decided that you were bored of me, atleast before i fell in love with you.
i want you to remember how we cuddled, cried, laughed, loved and cared in the same bed that she is now sleeping in.
you betrayed me
'cause i know that you'll never feel sorry
for the way i hurt, yeah
you’d talk to her
when we were together
you gave me your word
but that didn't matter
i realize now that you’ll never take responsibility for breaking my heart. you left me behind without a hint of remorse, as if my feelings were never real to you. even when you promised me forever, she was always there, lurking in the background. your words meant nothing in the end, just empty promises that you broke without a second glance.
it took you two weeks
to go off and date her
guess you didn't cheat
but you're still
you’re still a traitor
yeah, you're still a traitor
two weeks was all it took for you to forget us, to move on like i was nothing. you didn’t break the rules, but you broke my trust, and that’s just as cruel. no matter how much time passes, the sting of betrayal lingers. you might think you’re innocent, but deep down, we both know what you did.
god, i wish that you had thought this through
before i went and fell in love with you
if only you had thought this stupid thing throughout, maybe i wouldn’t be in my bed crying over how much loving you and your beautiful brown eyes had taken from me.
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nayziiz · 9 months ago
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Come Home | LN4
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)
Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!
Masterlist
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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky of Monte Carlo, she sat alone in the cosy living room of their apartment, her fingers anxiously tapping on her phone screen. It had been several weeks since she last felt the comforting warmth of his embrace, his familiar scent wrapping around her like a protective shield against the world's chaos. Work commitments and race weekends had kept them apart for longer than either of them had anticipated, and with each passing day, the ache of his absence grew more pronounced.
The apartment felt emptier without him, his laughter no longer echoing through the halls, his belongings neatly tucked away in drawers and closets, waiting for his return. She longed for the simple pleasure of having him home, to share mundane moments that held a special magic when they were together.
After a particularly exhausting day at work, all she craved was the solace of his arms, the reassurance of his presence. She had tried calling him several times throughout the day, but each attempt went unanswered, his phone seemingly out of reach. Anxiety gnawed at her insides as she imagined all sorts of scenarios, her mind spiralling with worry.
Perhaps he had gotten caught up in meetings or encountered unexpected delays on his journey home. Or maybe his phone had died, and he was currently en route, completely unaware of her attempts to reach him. But as the minutes stretched into hours, her concern morphed into a deep-seated fear, a nagging voice whispering worst-case scenarios in her ear.
Unable to sit still any longer, she rose from the couch and began pacing the length of the living room, her heart pounding against her chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Every passing second felt like an eternity, each unanswered call a sharp stab of disappointment.
But just as despair threatened to consume her entirely, the familiar sound of keys jingling in the lock filled the air, and her breath caught in her throat. With trembling hands, she rushed to the door, flinging it open to reveal the silhouette of the man she loved, his tired eyes lighting up at the sight of her.
Before she could utter a word, Lando enveloped her in a tight embrace, his arms providing the sanctuary she had been yearning for. In that moment, everything else faded into the background, leaving only the two of them, tangled together in a silent embrace.
“I'm so sorry I couldn't get back to you earlier,” he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with emotion.
“You’re home, that’s all that matters,” she assured him.
“I’ll always come home to you, baby,” he told her before pressing a kiss on her forehead.
And as she melted into his embrace, she knew that no matter how far apart they may be, they would always find their way back to each other, their love serving as a guiding light through even the darkest of nights.
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cheriladycl01 · 10 months ago
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My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 3
Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.
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After the Charles incident you didn’t really know what to do. The next weeks to come you continued straight on from France into 2 rounds at the Red Bull Ring. Of course everyone was looking to Max for the wins as this was the home for the team.
Practice hadn’t gone well, and it was completely your fault.
You’d gone 12th fastest in FP1, however when your best friend from home surprised you at the track you had the time to confide in her.
You told her all about what had happened with your twin and with Charles and Max. She was just as shocked as you were.
You showed her everywhere while you guys went to get some snacks to bring back to your drivers room.
You ended up bumping into some of the drivers, but the one you stuck around the most was Max, he asked you how you were after the post France fiasco and you’d asked him to drop it.
He ended up changing the conversation to your friend asking who she was and you guys all spoke about that instead which as a delight for you.
Eventually Max needed to go for some kind of Red Bull test, and he left you two to get back to the McLaren Paddock.
You guys gossiped like two little girls until Zac and Nico your race engineer came into your drivers room telling you it was time for FP2.
After having that pep talk from Y/BF/N you went 2nd fastest only 0.3 of a second behind Max himself. You were glowing when you came out the car. Everyone was congratulating you and the McLaren admins were taking pictures and videos of you happily getting out of the car!
However, when you turned your head looking towards the garage entrance you couldn’t see Y/BF/N anywhere. You finished up your media duties, talking about the pace of the car and how your head was clear on the flyers you did in FP2.
You spent ages looking for you friend, you assumed she’d stay in your hotel room with you so you were looking for her all around the track.
You eventually gave up sending her a text instead asking where she was to which she sent a short reply explaining she was back at her own hotel.
You went back to yours, laying awake thinking of qualifying and how tomorrow would go.
You thought you’d have a really good day today, you woke up extra early having a nice hotel breakfast and going to the paddock in a really nice outfit from one of your clothing sponsors Versace.
But when you got the the paddock seeing Y/BF/N kissing Max Verstappen’s cheek you were confused. He handed her the jacket she’d been wearing yesterday and you couldn’t help but think the worst.
You wanted to confront him, but with FP3 coming up you knew it was about time you’d have to get ready so you try to ignore it as much as possible. However it was the only thing on your mind.
Max had been so nice to you in your first season. And you always fell for the nice guys, who turned out to be twats. But you didn’t think he was a twat.
If anything you were more upset at the fact that Y/BF/N had potentially lied to you about where she was, and you didn’t know why she would feel the need to do that.
FP3 was awful, and you went 17th fastest a stark contrast from yesterday. Mick in the Haas was faster than you and if that wasn’t a wake up call you don’t know what was. The only comfort was that your brother was P19, so it wasn’t just a you thing the car wasn’t at peak performance.
Come qualifying your cars performed better, especially Landos where he went all the way to Q3 taking second row in P4. You on the other hand only made it to Q2 and was left starting next to Sebastian Vettel behind Yuki Tsunoda and Carlos Sainz. You were hoping the Ferrari could give you a slip stream and you’d be able to move up to go for an overtake on George.
You started off really well, doing exactly as you said. You dived in between Carlos and Yuki, both distracted attacking and defending each other you managed to get ahead.
You stormed through the field overtaking Lance and George consecutively, your gotten yourself to P9, left to take over the Alpine and then make a move on Charles. However, Lance came up too close behind you going into turn 4 your car spinning out because of how he hit you in the side.
The car went straight into the barriers not stopped by the gravel and the car was buried. There was no way for recovery.
"Are you okay Y/N?" Nico asks and where you are so winded you don't reply for a second.
"Y/N are you okay?" Nico asks again, you have a little shake of your head now that you breath is back and not caught before you reply.
"Yes. I'm okay. I don't know what happened i was turning on the inside line and Lance was just in the side of my car and I spun out" you say, looking at your hands waiting for Nico to reply.
"Stewards are reviewing footage now, come back to the garage and we'll see you in medical" Nico says.
You switch everything off chucking the wheel out the car onto the gravel before pulling yourself up over the halo. Lance had managed to continue his race but would need to put for wing damage. You came back with a Marshall to the McLaren garage profusely apologizing to Zac who had come to see you from where he had been sat on the pit wall.
"It's okay Y/N! This is your first DNF, there's no need to worry okay? This wasn't your fault at all!" he tells you rubbing your shoulder. You nod and watch as he shows you the decision made by the stewards. Lance was being made to do a stop and go 10 second penalty.
The race ended with your brother up high in the points making up for your unfortunate end to the race and getting the team the much needed points.
All the post race interviews you were asked about the incident with Lance and whether you were happy with the decision made by the Stewards. You kindly explained that you trusted the FIA in their decision making and the penalty clearly paid off as Lance was kept out of the points.
As Lando had done really well, you agreed to take him out to dinner that night. You'd asked Y/BF/N if she wanted to come but she said she'd be staying at the hotel because something in the McLaren hospitality hade made her sick so she'd be having plain toast at the hotel.
You and Lando dressed up really nice as you were taking him to a fancy restaurant so you didn't have to deal with the agg of the media or fans as the crash had really taken a lot of your energy.
You were seated at a central table one where you both had a view of the whole restaurant which was perfect as you could both people watch and comment on all the funny things people were doing. It was a little past time you and Lando had since you were kids.
Where it was one of the nicest restaurants in Austria, you guys saw some of the other drivers. Lewis, Sebastian and Valterri came in, and sat 4 tables down from you both, then Charles and Pierre came in together and sat in the seats behind you.
You were just served your starter when you looked up to thank the waitress, when your eyes locked on Max Verstappen walking in with Y/BF/N.
“Y/BF/N?” You ask in shock, where you ask loud enough for them to hear both their attention is now on you and the rest of the people sitting in your vicinity also look up.
“I thought you said you were to sick to come celebrate with Lando and I?” You ask offended that she’d ditched your for someone else and not told you, you wouldn’t have had a problem if she’d told you.
Not only that but it irked you she was with Max and you didn’t know why.
Did this mean that she had in fact been with Max when she said she was in her own hotel room? Did she even have a room?
“What are you guys doing here?” She laughs awkwardly before looking up at Max who now looks like a deer caught in headlights.
“I told me Lando and I were going out for dinner, to celebrate?” You say as if trying to jog her memory.
“Yeah but let’s be for real it’s you and Lando, I would expect your celebratory meal to be McDonalds and class it as cheat day for your insane diet!” She exclaims making you recoil a little.
“Is that why you said no? Because you didn’t think we’d take you someone nice, so you went with the person that had the better offer?” You ask looking up at Max who was trying to avoid all eye contact by looking everywhere but you.
You couldn’t believe it, was your childhood best friend about to admit she was only your friend for the money?
“Y/N that came out wrong. Looks let’s just enjoy our nights out, and we can talk about this on the plane home tomorrow!” She offers reaching a hand out to you.
“Im not going home tomorrow, I have another race here next weekend. Me and Lando are staying here because it’s cheaper. I told you that the other day” you voice before going back to sit down with Lando and enjoy your meal.
The hostess guides them to the other side of the restaurant, as they didn’t want any more disturbances so both Max and Y/BF/N are out of sight.
“Hey are you okay?” You hear from behind you making you turn round to see Charles turned round on his booth seat looking at you, Pierre also sending you a kind smile.
“Im fine, why wouldn’t I be” you smile but it really is the furthest thing from the truth.
You try to enjoy your night, but it’s constantly playing on the back of your mind.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot
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l4ndonorizz · 4 months ago
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BET - lando norris x reader
Tumblr media
pairing: lando norris x reader
warnings: suggestive talking maybe?
song: april27 - prayer1
summary: Lando is very competitive and will take the prize even if he doesn't win
wc: 1.3k
Lando leaned on his golf club, eyes fixed on the ball in front of him. The sun was shining, casting a warm glow over the course, but what should have been a relaxing day was instead buzzing with tension. You and Lando, as always, were ridiculously competitive. Maybe a little too much.
„So,” Carlos said, resting beside you with a grin, clearly amused by the brewing competition between you and Lando. „Wanna bet on who’s winning this one?”
You shot a playful look at Lando, who frowned, pretending to be offended. „I mean, it’s obvious. My ball’s going to be closer to the hole than his.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, smirking in that cocky way that made your stomach flutter. „You? Closer than me? In another lifetime, baby.”
Max, standing by the golf cart, chuckled, shaking his head. „You two are the worst,” he said, giving Carlos a knowing glance, who simply nodded in agreement.
Lando adjusted his stance, gripping his club tightly as he prepared to swing. With a calm breath, he hit the ball, sending it soaring through the air before it landed neatly near the hole. He shot you a smug look, leaning in close to whisper, „You’re not beating that.”
You crossed your arms and laughed, pretending not to be fazed by his teasing. „Just watch.”
Carlos and Max were now full-on laughing. „They’re like kids,” Carlos said, shaking his head, amusement clear in his eyes as he watched you prepare for your shot.
Lando’s competitive streak had always been a problem, but today, it seemed worse than usual. Maybe it was the sun, or maybe it was the way he looked so damn good in that black tank top—tanned, fit, his muscles flexing every time he swung the club. You found yourself watching him more than you should, and it was distracting. The way his toned arms moved, the way he smirked when he knew he was winning—it was driving you crazy, and not just in the game.
You stepped up, lined up your shot, and with a smooth swing, sent the ball flying. It landed a little closer to the hole than Lando’s, and you couldn’t help but grin smugly.
„Better luck next time, Norris,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you turned to him.
Lando’s jaw clenched slightly, the competitive fire burning in his eyes. „Alright, alright,” he muttered, clearly not enjoying being beaten. „How about we raise the stakes then?”
You tilted your head, intrigued. „What do you have in mind?”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. „If I win the next hole, you owe me something… personal.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his tone, the weight of the suggestion hanging in the air between you. But you weren’t about to back down. „And if I win?” you asked, smirking.
Lando’s eyes darkened with playful mischief. „Then I’ll do whatever you want.”
Carlos and Max, oblivious to the tension, laughed loudly in the background. „This is going to be good,” Carlos said, clearly entertained by the whole situation.
The next few holes were tense, with you and Lando both trying to outdo each other. Every swing felt like it carried higher stakes, every glance between the two of you crackling with more than just competition. Max and Carlos laughed on the sidelines, but you and Lando were locked in your own little world, focused solely on each other.
Finally, it came down to the last hole. You were tied, and your next shot would determine the winner. You could feel Lando’s gaze on you as you lined up your swing, his smirk still in place but his eyes serious now. He didn’t want to lose, and neither did you.
You took your swing, the ball landing perfectly, just a few feet from the hole. It was nearly flawless.
Carlos whistled. „Damn, that’s going to be hard to beat.”
Lando stepped up, lining up his shot carefully. His usual confidence seemed a little shaken. The ball soared through the air, but when it landed, it wasn’t quite as close as yours.
Max clapped Lando on the back, laughing. „Tough break, mate.”
Grinning, you turned to Lando, feeling a little smug. „Looks like you’re all mine,” you teased, the satisfaction evident in your voice.
Lando’s eyes darkened, a look that sent a shiver down your spine. „Don’t get too comfortable, it was just one hole.“
„Don’t be mean, cabrón. It was a fair win,“ Carlos shouted at him, at which Lando straightened up and gave her a slightly more pleasant look.
„So are we wrapping this up? It’s quite hot already…“ Max complained when he got behind the wheel of a golf cart.
"Yeah, let's call it a day," Carlos agreed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Before someone melts out here."
You shot Lando a sideways glance, your grin still in place, enjoying the small victory. His competitive streak was something you were more than familiar with, but today, it seemed to push him even further. The look in his eyes told you that losing, even in something as simple as golf, wasn’t sitting well with him.
As the group gathered their things, Lando stayed silent, his eyes never leaving you. That same intense gaze from earlier hadn’t softened—it had only deepened. You felt a slight pang of nerves, knowing he wouldn’t let this slide so easily.
Once everyone was settled in the golf cart, Max drove back toward the clubhouse with Carlos making jokes to lighten the mood, but your attention remained on Lando. He sat beside you, quiet, his leg brushing against yours, making it impossible to ignore the tension that lingered between you two.
"That win of yours... It’s not over," Lando muttered, low enough for only you to hear.
You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk. "You think you can change the outcome now?"
His hand slid over your thigh under the pretense of readjusting himself, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary. "Oh, I plan on making sure you don’t feel too victorious for long."
You felt a rush of heat at his words, the teasing edge in his voice sending shivers down your spine. The bet had been innocent enough, but there was nothing innocent about the way Lando was looking at you now. You knew that the real competition was just beginning.
By the time Max parked the cart and everyone was unloading their gear, the air felt thicker—charged with unspoken promises. As you all headed inside, Carlos and Max distracted by a conversation about their plans for the evening, you felt Lando's hand brush yours, tugging you gently to the side.
Without warning, he pressed you against the side of the building, out of sight from the others. His face hovered close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. "You might’ve won today, but tonight," he whispered, voice dropping to a dangerous low, "I’m taking my win back."
Your pulse quickened, the playful banter from earlier gone, replaced by something much more intense. His hands slipped down to your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make your knees weaken.
"And what exactly does that mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of excitement and nerves tightening your chest.
Lando smirked, leaning in so close that his lips brushed against your ear. "You'll see."
With that, he pulled away, giving you one last dark look before rejoining Max and Carlos, who were blissfully unaware of the shift in energy between you two. You watched him walk away, heart pounding in your chest, knowing that tonight was going to be anything but relaxing.
This competition wasn’t over—not by a long shot.
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dreamlandbarnes · 10 days ago
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f1 fic recs
a compilation of all the fics i've been reading in the f1 rpf tag on ao3! please leave comments and kudos for the authors, and check the tags before reading. sorted by pairing, and summary and word count are provided. none of these fics are mine.
if your fic is on here and you want it removed, please let me know!
charles leclerc / max verstappen
bloodsport by 140445 | 37,711 words | M
“I don’t care about then, you are here now,” Charles says. “You are on my side now.” Max is on his side. It’ll feel like that, too, at some point. Surely. Or: Max and Charles as teammates for the 24 hours of Le Mans.
such murderous and vengeful desire by foggystars | 20,676 words | E
Where Carlos’ girlfriend has her fingers crossed, keeps covering her eyes as if she can’t bear to watch, Max is focused, mouth set in a hard line. He’s leaning in, balancing on the edge of his seat. To anybody else he looks intent, focused on the screen. To Charles, he looks like a bird, poised to take wing. Like he’s about to fly right through the screen and take the steering wheel from Charles’ clumsy hands, get in there and drive the car himself. When Max Verstappen suffers a career ending injury, he pours all his effort into turning his old rival, Charles Leclerc, into a worthy champion. Five years and two world championships later, they finally decide to talk about it.
like in love with me by linearity | 7,800 words | T
Austria 2019, a two-person house party, Abu Dhabi 2021, a silly lover’s quarrel, and a stove-side morning proposal.
Anonym by additiv | 13,971 words | E
The truth is, Max finds Charles unbelievably annoying. He’s chaotic and unpredictable. He’s staring at Max across the room one moment, and in the next, seems to have forgotten he exists. He swaps clothes with people at random, whipping off his faded Gucci t-shirt in the middle of the dance floor, to trade it for some girl’s crop top, laughing and crowding close to block the view of her body while they make the exchange. When he disappears to the bathroom, Max never knows whether he’ll reappear with glitter on his eyelids, or white powder on his nose. He flirts with every person in the room, and probably sleeps with them too. He ignores Max completely, then goes home with him. He’s always gone when Max wakes up; nothing left behind, nothing missing. He refuses to stay the night, but refuses to let Max get over him. And, he refuses to let Max know anything about him.
when you cut me open by triangularity (linearity) | 44,900 words | E
Well, Charles concedes, miserably. He did die last night. A few days staying with his vampire ex-boyfriend probably isn’t the worst thing he’ll have gone through in January.
a life in your shape by weiwuxian (BreathOfDream) | 29,431 words | E
“Oh god, not you,” Charles groans, crossing his arms on his chest. The Batman visibly rolls his eyes (blue, of course, because all men that messed with Charles’ life had that in common apparently) at his reaction, but another look at Charles makes him step closer. “Yes, always a pleasure. Are you ok?” or: 5 times both Max and the Batman makes Charles' life a lot more complicated than needed + 1 time he doesn't
Frecheit by additiv | 208,723 words | E
The first time that Max heard the name Charles Leclerc was in 2022, just after winning his first WDC. Maybe it only stuck because he heard it twice in one night; first as Leclerc was announced as the 2022 F3 champion. Second, as Helmut lamented not signing him to the Red Bull driver development program. Now, Max is ready to put the newly-promoted Ferrari driver in his place. The problem is, Leclerc seems to think his place is on the top step of the podium. And he is not playing by the rules. An age-difference fic, where they never got to work out their differences as kids. 3-time WDC Max's experience of being personally victimised by baby-Charles.
in dream by 140445 | 81,025 words | E
Charles tried to figure out the dream on his own. In the morning he sat down with a cup of coffee, trying to make sense of what he had seen—he even googled it. Surely, Charles couldn't be the first or only person to dream about someone he shouldn't. But there were no search results for my professional rival is suddenly also my soulmate or soulmate dream of someone i'm not supposed to want???.  (In a world where soulmates identified each other by sharing a dream, Charles dreamt of the last person he expected.)
heart of the wind by pipitass | 13,830 words | M
There’s a slip of paper taped next to one of the doorbells — third floor, second door. It should, in theory, be the one directly across from his own. Max V. “Yes?” “Uh— hi.” He clears his throat. “It’s your neighbor. From across the street. Your, your clothes…” He doesn’t really know what to say after that. Hi, I got into a street fight with your bedsheets yesterday. Welcome to the neighborhood.
charles_leclerc ✔️ posted: 😘 by ninetqs | 11,500 words | M
Charles posts a photo with a mystery man and casually breaks the Internet in the process.
cameras in the traffic lights by c_e_1 | 9,958 words | M
Pop Crave @PopCrave • Aug 13 2023 Popstar Charles Leclerc has put his instagram on private after fans spotted Formula 1 driver Max Verstappen in the background of his vacation photos 303 comments | 1.6K retweets | 10K likes
(don't read) the last page by mintchocolatechip97 | 7,475 words | E
Max feels a light tap on his arm, and turns to see the beautiful door-opener, chestnut brown curls fluffed up on his head like he’s been running his hands through his hair. “I have been on a set a time or two,” the man says, trying and failing to wink, “but this is my first time in a writers room, so you are not the only rookie here.” He clearly speaks English fluently, but has a smidge of a European accent, which Max thinks might be French. “I’m sorry,” Max says, a little annoyed that this stranger is speaking to him as if they know each other, “I didn’t catch your name?” Several emotions flit over the man’s face, in such quick succession that Max can’t quite catch them all. In the end, he looks mortified. “Oh, I am so sorry,” he says, “This is going to sound terrible, like I am the worst kind of person, but I thought you would know who I was.” Dr. Max Verstappen gets hired as the expert medical consultant for a new Netflix show. Charles Leclerc, former teen heartthrob, stars.
all i know of love is hunger by 140445 | 28,509 words | E
Anger flares in Charles’ chest. Not the kind that he feels in the car, when he’s on Max’s tail, when they are braking late and later. The one that’s been looming over his head ever since Max announced his retirement. The one he hasn’t been able to tame until now, until he can give it a name. Betrayal.
hollywood and highland by japrufrocks | 26,730 words | E
Max had left New York a week before Charles had, seven days exactly. Max had gone to Hollywood; Charles had gone to a hospital. Now they're starring in the same film. Hollywood gives its darlings everything. It takes everything too.
straight lines (that unwind you) by 140445 | 16,330 words | E
“Do you know him?” Arthur asks. “No,” Charles decides. Because he does not. He knows Max is a mathematics major, and that he plays chess. And that he hits the gym. And what he looks like when he comes. Details.
all to play for by linearity | 49,300 words | E
Charles Leclerc is not at Red Bull to win races. He is here to win championships.
my thoughts will echo your name by witchee_writer | 38,826 words | M
“Do you think you’ll ever want to do Le Mans one day?” asked Max, glancing sideways at the man sitting next to him. Charles’ eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face. “I think I want to win Le Mans one day.”
heart on your sleeve by nyoomfruits | 4,812 words | T
The thing about having a racing helmet that constantly displays your emotions for the whole world to see, is that you kind of get used to it after a while. These days Charles almost forgets it’s even a thing. Almost. But then he goes and falls in love.
ghost of you by nyoomfruits | 3,436 words | T
“All right, are you now finally ready to explain why four time world driver champion Charles Leclerc is currently in my living room?” Max says, as Charles towels off his hair. Charles pauses, lets the towel fall into his lap, stares at Max with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, did you say four time?”
The HR Situation by thearchercore | 3,027 words | Gen
Jacob found out many things during his first month in the new HR role - Mary and Connor from Aero Engineering were dating. Thomas and Nick from Comms got recently divorced and it's a sensitive subject. Eddie from Legal had to go to an Anger Management class but hasn't had any issues since his return. Oh, and also - Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc were fucking weird about each other. or: Charles and Max go to Mercedes and the HR Department is in shambles.
Sawtooth by nottonyharrison | 40,305 words | E
In another universe, Max rejected karting at the age of fifteen, no longer prepared to be a proxy for his father’s dream. He moved back to Belgium to live with his mum and sister, excelled at school, and eventually went on to complete a Masters of Mechanical Engineering. Now 27, after four years working for Alfa Romeo and Sauber, first as a junior performance engineer and then on the pit wall for Zhou Guanyu, he’s put forward for a job with Ferrari when Carlos Sainz is left without a race engineer thanks to the increasingly hectic F1 schedule. The problem is, Max has a crush on Carlos’ teammate. A huge, obvious, embarrassing crush that leaves him stumbling for words, face burning every time he’s within six feet of the guy. What makes it even worse is that sometimes he’s sure that Charles is looking right back.
leminiscate by weiwuxian (BreathofDream) | 27,799 words | E
Charles tries to imagine Max, on the opposite side of the kitchen. Eating bread too, like he did that first morning of the After—gross and charming. Tries to think about the way he would hold him, maybe. Of the softness of his lips, glossed by butter; and how he would laugh and push him away. His phone dings and he blinks himself awake once again.
achilles comes down by sincerelylancelot | 21,068 words | M
The World Championship trophy rests in his trembling hands, his name etched in fine gold. It isn't until he's staring down at it—his name nestled close to Max’s—that he realises his dreams have always been carved out of someone else’s pain. Jules. Max. And now, maybe even himself.
charles leclerc / carlos sainz jr
a bad recompense for your love by steviethenarwhal | 65,162 words | M
“I do not want to date you,” Charles says. Carlos’s eyes slide warily over to him. He tries to explain. “I do not date men. It would be… not smart.” “I don’t want to date you either,” Carlos says. “I do not date racecar drivers.”
translation theory by linearity | 9,500 words | E
Charles Leclerc, Ferrari’s golden boy, their Il Predestinato. He likes it up the ass and likes getting fucked by rockstars who have more tattoos than thoughts in their brains. What a fucking joke.
semiotic study by linearity | 8,600 words | E
Carlos knows. He knows what this is and what this is not. This is not romance, this is not love, but Charles makes it so easy to slip into that illusion. Charles makes it so hard, and Carlos cannot be without.
last night by venerat | 24,259 words | E
Rule #1: When you go to America, don't lose your virginity to your best friend's roommate. Charles fails Rule #1.
Good Boy by chiliconcarlos | 8,445 words | E
Really, it’s all Alex’s fault. ~~ Or: the one where Charles and Carlos want to settle the question of who's better in bed.
at the dinner table with god and my father by Cloudcollector | 4,599 words | M
There is a table in his house that knows more about him than his father. Or, Carlos and his father. And the family dinner table through the years.
win or lose (it's how you play the game) by chiliconcarlos | 18,321 words | E
It all starts because of a stupid bet.   Or: Carlos suggests a hickey bet for their '23 season, and it goes about how you'd expect.
darling by magnificentbirb | words | T
The pet names begin as a joke.
carlos sainz jr / oscar piastri
take it or leave it by venerat | 6,771 words | E
r/relationships: My (22M) coworker (29M) keeps irritating me at work
he just turned in like i didn't exist by linearity | 36,500 words | E
Oscar doesn’t have a problem with his soulmate. It’s his soulmate who has the fucking problem.
Happy Death Race by powerfulowl (playmyace) | 28,390k words | E
Carlos gazes up at the fake blue sky. Dopey grin, contrapposto pose, head as empty as the cottony clouds above. “Look, look. Look, Piastri. It is always daylight.” Oscar imagines pushing him into the piss water canal. "Yeah, cool. Stop dying!" (Oscar is in a time loop and Carlos won't stop dying.)
when both our cars collide by buildyourfences | 8,483 words | M
It’s race day, which means his phone shouldn’t be ringing. And yet, it is. “Carlos, why are you not at the track yet? We are waiting for you.” “But–” “I sent you the updated schedule last night, please get here as soon as possible.” The call ends. He blinks down at the phone in his hand. Friday, March 1. Well, that’s not right. Carlos is trapped in a time loop. He can't stop crashing with Oscar.
at a constant speed by wisteriagoesvroom (bobaheadshark) | 11,676 words | E
“Are you close?” Oscar asks. “What does it look like?” “I wasn’t expecting it to be, uh, so…” What? Oscar wants to add. Hot? Desperate? Pathetic? All of the above? --- Or, carcar get themselves into a situationship, and it just keeps situating.
left a calling card so they would know that it was me by xxxdeerlordxxx | 6,139 words | E
Carlos continues to sit there, in the cockpit with his back to the wall, pieces of the torn advertisements raining down on him. He can see a big screen from where he’s at, the replays they show over and over, of Carlos spinning out, of Oscar driving away from the incident like nothing happened. Because of course no one believes him. But Carlos knows that Oscar’s to blame. Just not in the way people might think.
hatred cradles you by foggystars | 6,829 words | E
“You see?” Carlos asks, hanging up the phone. “He does not pick up.” Oscar shrugs, unsure why Carlos seems to think this is his problem. Just because Oscar’s his teammate doesn’t mean he knows where Lando is at all times, like some sort of twink-seeking missile. Then Carlos says, “I wait for him in here,” and nods to himself. He’s walking into Oscar’s hotel room before he can stop him, and all Oscar can do is blink stupidly at the empty stretch of hallway where Carlos once stood.
in midnight’s jaws by Springsteen | 30,806 words | E
Werewolves are fiction, the stuff of books and movies just like witches and zombies. Men do not turn into wolves, or fly on broomsticks, or raise the dead. There must be a logical explanation for the restlessness in Carlos's blood, for the waves of pain so sudden and intense it feels as though his bones are trying to break free of his body. Surely there is a perfectly good reason for Carlos to have woken in the dirt the morning after a full moon, with no idea where he is or how he got there. And surely there was a reason he turned to Oscar Piastri, of all people, for help.
pulling teeth by arboretics | 9,030 words | Not Rated
Oscar is very private, very in control. Carlos pretends he is both of those things, too. But after a late night collision in Baku 2024, things spiral between them into something straddling a game and an uncomfortable intimacy. A year on, Oscar and Lando are battling for the championship, Carlos is fighting for low points finishes, and Oscar loses his grip on the whole situation.
the better half of a good time by antimonyandthyme | 4,413 words | E
“Most guys, they look at the date.” He manages to make it sound both admiring and chiding. Oscar is very quickly losing control of this conversation. “Do you make a habit of just giving your license out? To every stranger you meet?” “Only those I really like.”
reckless attention by crescenteluce | 4,290 words | E
It’s probably on Oscar to be the bigger person here, to tell Carlos if he can’t do it sober, he shouldn’t be doing it at all. But that’s the thing about Carlos – he doesn’t exactly inspire Oscar to be the best version of himself.
george russell / max verstappen
winning mentality by linearity | 18,500 words | E
It’s not, like, a thing. It’s only happened twice, if you don’t count the time during the pre-season when Max shoved a thigh against George’s crotch, and George, touched-deprived and broken-hearted, let out a sharp gasp and came instantly. Max, looking shocked and frightened, stormed away.
cut your teeth by 140445 | 9,224 words | E
And that is the thing that brought George here. Eat or be eaten. It’ll happen either way. Maybe here, he will like the taste.
full throttle by calenmirel | 3,397 words | E
Later, Max will turn to him, meeting his gaze head on, and ask if George truly hadn’t seen him in his mirrors at turn eight, like George had claimed. He'll rub his hands on his racesuit as he says it, like he'll be rid of the phantom feeling of George's hair from between his fingers if he wipes them hard enough. George will look back at him, licking the taste of Max from the back of his teeth like he can savour it, and will reply, “of course I didn’t,” lying through his smile.
alexander albon / george russell
a feeling all brand new by ginnydear | 16,481 words | M
Alex is halfway through his sandwich when he starts to feel talkative, so he takes a sip of his tea and waits for Logan to finish chewing before he says what’s running through his mind at full speed. “I think I’m homophobic.”
nothing but teeth by crescenteluce | 25,057 words | E
“Oh, come on.” Alex says, poking George in the thigh again with his foot. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done a little-” Alex makes a complicated hand-wavy gesture that has the contents of his glass nearly sloshing over the sides. “At your fancy boy schools, a little stiff upper-lipped make-out amongst the chaps? In between rounds of cricket and fox hunting?”
carlos sainz jr / max verstappen
ease the madness by magnificentbirb | 12,231 words | M
Max signed away his soul on his sixteenth birthday.
pierre gasly / charles leclerc
a long time (maybe forever) by strongestavenger | 10,021 words | T
AITA: homophobic but only to my roommate/best friend? First of all, I swear I have never been a discriminatory person – I have lots of gay friends and my little brother is bisexual. I know that sounds stupid as hell but it’s my only defense right now. My problem is that I (Marc, 26M, straight) have a roommate (Jacques, 28M, gay), who has also been my best friend since we were kids, and I think I’ve started to feel homophobic towards him? (or: Charles needs some outside help to figure things out.)
miscellaneous / general / multi
One thousand laps of jeddah by in_in_in_in_in_in_in | 68,585 words | Gen
George feels sick for the whole ride to the track. He has no idea how he got from breakfast to the car, let alone how he shook off Alex. He knows that he said ‘for god’s sake, Alex, I’m not on drugs’ about a hundred times, even though he’s not at all sure that it’s the truth. What else could have happened to him? Did he dream the race last night?
eat them alive by linearity | 57,000 words | E
Oscar lost Lando a championship and left McLaren. There was still a year in between.
the condominium community committee by jusst_you_wait | 36,452 words | T
the condominium community - 2:36pm Oscar and Logan have been added to the chat George Hello, welcome to a group chat we have for the Formula apartment building! There are only 18 (20 now) of us so we like to keep in contact about the building maintenance and other neighbourly orders of business. I’m George, and I liaise with the building manager on behalf of all of us when there is a building specific issue rather than an apartment issue. Welcome to the building! Lando do u copy and paste that from ur notes every time Alex I bet he has it memorised ~ or, the ridiculous chat fic where the f1 grid all live in the same apartment building
temperature get to you by minieggs11 | 9,339 words | E
It’s Logan’s last ride of the night, it’s clearly two drunk tourists going back to their hotel. As long as they give him a five star rating, he doesn’t care what happens.
sugar and spice by pipitass | 10,785 words | E
“Do you know already? Who you’ll pick?” Oscar frowns. Eyes still closed, scrunched now. Sharp brows downturned, meeting in the middle of his face. “When you win.” The frown deepens for a second. Then his face releases, and he shrugs. Shuffles as he goes to lay down, kicking his shoes off before he brings them up so his toes are poking at Max’s thigh, settling in. “Someone nice.”
triple header by 140445 | 7,890 words | E
Because Oscar isn’t here with Charles. And he’s not here with Max. He doesn’t get it, this thing between Max and Charles. They look like they’re here together, share glances that make Oscar feel like an intruder—but Max brought Oscar back to the booth to sit with them. For Charles to flirt with him. As if it’s some kind of game, where Max brings back prey for Charles to take.
somebody else by piastrism | 31,252 words | E
Oscar misses the color lilac — the color of the twilight sky behind Charles as they drank wine on Sedici, and the long-faded color left behind on his hips by Max’s fingertips.
we'll take the shadows (since the limelight isn't ours) by magnificentbirb | 2,177 words | T
Lando hears the screech of tires on asphalt behind him, the distant crunch of carbon fiber colliding with a wall. He glimpses only the aftermath of the carnage—the dust and smoke, the flashing lights, the unmistakable gleam of bright red—and then he’s clear. And that’s when the seconds slow down.
possessed by light by Anonymous | 6,885 words | Gen
It is a lesson you learn alone. Or that you are supposed to learn alone. At some point you will look at yourself in the mirror and see not just flesh and blood. You will see the capabilities beyond that. You will see your body as a ladder to forever ascend, to always want more. You will see just what you’re made of—and you will realise it has to be used. You will learn not to waste it. Charles did not learn that on his own.
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years ago
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Hi, I would like to ask for a rafe with ''Let's worry about the consequences later.'' and 'I would never let anyone or anything hurt you.'' with a reader pogue
Request: John B.'s older sister/Rafe's past girlfriend get kidnapped instead of Kiara + Rafe comforting you at night
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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The worst thing that could happen after getting rescued by this suspicious pilot happened. You should’ve saved your ass and followed the others instead of helping the pilot and swimming in the other direction. If you had, you would not have been separated from the rest of the pogues or gotten taken and kidnapped by some strong-armed men.
You were brought to a lavish compound guarded by lots of armed guards, locked in a room and told to be ready for dinner at 8pm. Various sizes of the same red dress were waiting in a closet with a note that said ‘pick your size’. You felt like a doll forced to play real-life dress up.
When the clock struck 8, a maid unlocked your door and brought you downstairs to meet your captor — Carlos Singh —, but when you got there, you found Rafe Cameron instead. He was looking out a window, his back facing you, but you knew it was him.
‘’Rafe?’’
He turned around, his familiar blue eyes looking back at you. His head was buzzed and he was wearing a white button up and a blue blazer, looking as handsome as you remembered. You would have been happy to see him if he had not chosen that stupid cross over you that day on the Coastal Venture.
‘’You’re a part of this?!’’
Rafe drew his eyebrows together in a frown. ‘’I don't know what you're talking about, but I’m here for business. I’m meeting a possible buyer for the cross.’’
That damn cross again…
Before you could exchange more words, a man with a perfectly cut beard and wearing a tailored suit walked in with a drink in one hand. ‘’You two know each other, right?’’ He shifted his eyes between you and Rafe, amusement curling on his lips when he sensed a tension between you two. ‘’Shall we head for dinner? We have some things to discuss.’’
With a chill in your bones, you followed Carlos to the dining area.
You tensed when you felt a hand on the small of your back, but relaxed when you realized it was Rafe’s and not one of Carlos’ men’s. Your trust in him was broken, but you knew he wouldn’t let anyone in this house get their hands on you.
A nice table had been set with place settings for three. The food looked delicious, and your stomach felt tight from having not eaten anything since last night, but you couldn't bring yourself to eat anything. In this property, your life was on a thin line and all you could think about was staying on your guard.
Less than three minutes into the dinner, Carlos asked about Denmark Tanney’s diary. He suspected one of you to have it since the only way to find the emplacement of the cross was through the diary. Unlike Rafe, you knew what Carlos was talking about, but unfortunately you did not have it in your possession.
‘’I know one of you knows something. When you give me the diary, I’ll let you go. Until then,’’ Carlos glanced at the guards and with a tilt of his head, you and Rafe were escorted to that same room they had locked you in.
In the room, Rafe was pacing, trying to not spiral into panic.
‘’I got a boat. I can get us off the island, but first we gotta get out of here.’’
You sat on the end of the bed, evaluating your options, but beside the diary there was none. ‘’The door is locked from the outside and there’s security all over the house and property. We’re stuck.’’
You were usually more optimistic, but this place was a fucking fortress.
‘’Please tell me you know where that damn diary is,’’ Rafe pleaded, kneeling down in front of your sitting figure. 
You shook your head. You had heard your brother talk about Denmark Tanney’s diary, but you had never touched or seen it. ‘’I’m sorry.’’
When the night came, you changed into a gray silk pajama you found in the drawers. You felt like an imposter in those clothes. It was a lot more fancy than the old band tee shirts and bunny print pajama pants you wore at home.
‘’I look ridiculous,’’ you said when coming out of the bathroom, feeling uncomfortable.
Rafe’s eyes looked you over, swiping his tongue over his lips when noticing your nipples poking through the delicate silk. ‘’I think you look…nice.’’ It wasn’t his initial adjective of choice, but your relationship was too strained for a spicier compliment.
You felt warmth creeping on your cheeks. ‘’Shut up.’’
You crossed the room and hid beneath the bed covers. After sleeping outside on mattresses made of braided leaves for the past month, a soft mattress and a warm duvet comforter felt like laying on a fucking cloud.
Although you were warm and comfortable, sleep didn’t come to you.
After seeing the way Carlos handled the ones who crossed him, you couldn’t stop hearing the gunshot that took Jimmy Portis’s life. He said you and Rafe had until tomorrow to tell him where the diary is, making you the nexts on his list.
With shaking hands and a rapid heartbeat, you sat up and peered down the bed. Rafe offered to sleep on the floor, taking a sole cushion from the bed for pillow.
‘’Rafe?’’ you whispered in the dark. 
He hummed sleepily, only half asleep.
‘’Can you come sleep in the bed with me? I…I’m scared.’’
You didn’t hear any movement so you assumed Rafe had gone back to sleep, but you saw a shadow standing up. Although your relationship never properly ended and you didn’t know where it stood, Rafe never stopped loving you. He cared deeply about you and his protective instinct was to make you feel safe.
He slid under the covers beside you and you reached for him, clung to him like he was your lifeline. ‘’I’m here,’’ he reassured, snaking an arm around your scared frame. ‘’And I’m not gonna let go of you this time.’’
Saving the cross instead of helping you when you fell overboard was something he regretted immensely. He should’ve taken your hand instead of grabbing the rope and trying to save the cross. Rafe wasn’t strong enough to hold the cross by himself, it was going to fall off the boat anyway.
‘’Promise?’’ You tilted your head to look up at him.
He grabbed your hands to hold in his and sealed his promise with a kiss on your joined hands. '’I would never let anyone or anything hurt you. I’ve let things come between us in the past, but I’m done with that.''
‘’What are we gonna do, Rafe? Without the diary, we’re dea—’’
A finger shut your lips before you could finish your sentence. ‘’I’m gonna get us out of here, okay? Whatever it takes. Let's worry about the consequences later.’’
Rafe didn’t have a plan, but if he needed to kill Carlos Singh with his bare hands, he would. 
OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker  @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron
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ynbabe · 1 year ago
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Fake texts au- pt.12 bffs with the rookies+ Monaco for one, please!
Literally love the way anyone older than them has to be the babysitter 😭😭😭
| Masterlist |
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The week you spent with Oscar and Logan was perfect in every way possible. You woke up with perhaps the worst backache you'd ever had, almost unable to breathe because Logan had shited his entire weight on you... well, that part wasn't perfect but the dinner you had afterwards made up for every ache and pain.
Oscar's mum made every favourite dish of yours and Logans, leaving a very jealous Oscar but at the end of the day, the three of you fell into the same routine you did as kids.
Sleeping late, Waking up even later and eating junk till you couldn't eat anymore (much to the dismay of their trainers) the only different thing is that all three of you couldn't bunk on the same bed. So you took turns, as suggested by Oscar's mother because your first idea was to fight for a spot on the bed.
But sadly, the week had ended and you had to leave, you hugged Logan and Oscar goodbye and made your way to Monaco, where you'd spend the rest of the summer vacation with Arthur.
He'd invited you not wanting to be alone while his brothers had their girlfriends and the last time he'd invited one of his friends from Prema, his mom had pulled him aside and given him the 'you know you can tell me anything, right, son?' he'd simply told her that he was just a friend, and anyways she should have been having the conversation with Charles anyway, with whatever he had going with Max, or with Carlos or Pierre.
You were a little nervous to go, never having been around his family before. You'd met Charles before and had become pretty good friends with him and Max but his mom? His Eldest brother? That was a whole other story.
He picked you up at the airport, drove you to the house, you offered to uber as you weren't allowed to drive in Monaco anymore (its a long story) when you walked in you hadn't realised everyone would be over and were currently on Arthur's back trying to get your phone back for the boy, which he had stolen when he saw the picture of you and Logan, oscar had sent you.
You looked around the room to find Charles, his girlfriend, his eldest brother, and their mother, staring at the two of you with wide eyes.
You jumped off your friends' back, snatching your phone in the process, "Um, hi, I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all!" You smiled hugging Charles and shaking hands with everyone else, trying to ignore your entrance.
"I'll go get the bags, yeah," he muttered as he left, his eldest brother following him.
"Maman, C'est une amie d'Arthur, celle dont je t'ai parlé," (Mom, She's one of Arthur's friends, the one I told you about), Charles said something to his mother in French, you tried to decipher with whatever Arthur had taught you over the years but they spoke too fast.
"Celui qui l'a emmené faire la fête?" (The one who took him to party?) She replied, her voice displaying disappointment, making the girl awkwardly standing next to the door frown at Charles for translation.
"Maman..." Charles began but his mother shushed him, making him look down.
Suddenly, the older woman's face and body language changed, doing a total 180, "Y/n, I've heard a lot about you, from Arthur and Charles!" She said with a smile, making the girl slightly jump in surprise, "Come on, sit, the boys will get your bags," she invited the youngest woman to sit and nodded at Charles to help get the bags, he wanted to protest but was nudged in the ribs by Alexandra, making him walk out in betrayal.
"Uh, hi guys," she said awkwardly feeling a little out of place. She felt like she was in front of a jury assessing her every move to give her life in prison and by the look on the mother's face, they were leaning in favour of the death penalty.
"Hi, Y/n," Alexandra began, quickly leaning forward as soon as her boyfriend left the house, " I've seen you around the paddock before, but mostly in Mclaren and Williams," She began, "I thought you were dating Oscar, right? Or Logan?" She asked making the girl cringe, she couldn't imagine dating one of her friends.
"Um, no, we're just friends, all four of us," she explained, this is so weird.
"And what about the hyper little British one?" Pascale asked making you laugh,
"Lando? I'm going to save his name like that from now on!" You smiled, "No, no, not at all, I think he's a little too invested in Carlos to even think about dating," you joked hoping to change the conversation, Alexandra smiled but Pascale remained unchanged.
"I've noticed, he's a sweet boy," she nodded, "Are you dating my son?" She asked, not sugarcoating anymore, making you choke on your spit, Alexandra quickly rushed to your side, patting your back.
"Thank you," you took the glass of water she offered, "I'm not dating Arthur!" You yelled as soon as you finished drinking the water, making his mother look at you suspiciously at first then nod.
"Thank you for being truthful Y/n," She began, "My kids are everything to me and they only have me to protect them. Lorenzo and Charles are old enough to understand just how cruel life can be, but Arthur's still naive," she explained slowly. It seemed like Alex had heard the same lecture too.
"Maman! Tell Charlie to stop kicking me!" Arthurs's voice rang as the trio stepped inside, proving her point.
"Maman, please, both of them won't shut up!" Lorenzo complained at his brother's antics, in true older sibling fashion.
"Only because you are stupid," Both Arthur and Charles replied at the same time making the eldest groan and place your bag down, to swat the others. Charles had your duffle and Arthur held your haversack, currently using it as a weapon to hit his brothers.
"Boys!" Their mother called out, making them all stop and pick up your bags, and carry them to some room in the house. Alexandra smiled at their antics and Pascale just shook her head.
"Sweetheart, come on, let's have some dinner, I'm sure the flight has you hungry and tired," She practically dragged you to the dinner table. You sat next to Arthur, Alex and Charles in front of you and Lorenzo and Pascle and either head of the table.
After the strange test of sorts, everything was normal, you joked along with the others, and the brothers often fought making you and Alex look at each other and laugh. You were getting along with her the most, being quite close in age and humour. However, as the night continued the jet lag became more and more of a problem.
Arthur was the first to notice your head falling as you sat, "Maman, We are going to turn in," you both began to get up but Lorenzo spoke up, making you stop.
" Où penses-tu aller?" (Where do you think you're going?) The older man asked.
"Ma chambre ?" (My room?) Arthur answered.
"Non, elle couche avec Alexandra, tu restes avec Charlie," (No, she's sleeping with Alexandra, you're staying with Charlie) He replied making both brothers angry.
They started talking over each other, yelling and shouting, you definitely made out more than one curse word. You looked over at Alex silently asking if she knew what was happening, but she just shrugged.
"You're so annoying, Lorenzo, Je jure devant Dieu que j'aurai une chambre d'hôtel !" (I swear to God I will get a hotel room!) He screamed making everyone quiet down.
"Don't yell at me, it was maman's idea," he looked at his brothers a little guiltily, making everyone look towards the eldest woman on the table.
"It's okay, Charlie, reste avec ta petite amie, Arthur soit avec ton ami." (Charlie, stay with your girlfriend, Arthur be with your friend.) Everyone seemed to be okay with the decision, though you didn't know what the decision was.
Arthur patted your shoulder, making you get up and follow him to his room. As soon as you walked in you kicked your shoes off, falling face-first on the soft king-sized bed. He followed suit, dropping himself on the opposite end of the bed, and turning his head to face you.
"I don't think your brother and mum like me very much, Princie," You spoke in a soft voice, too tired to even sit up.
"Nah, they are just over-protective," he answered, his voice nothing but a whisper.
Slowly your eyes drifted shut, letting yourself succumb to sleep.
"Bonne nuit, chérie."
Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff @tyna-19 @assholeinatrenchcoat
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eclectic-sassycoweyes · 28 days ago
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Mr. Perfect, Book and Cover
- a Tarlos Library Meet Cute and a graduation gift for @emsprovisions 🥳 - pairs with this completely amazing art by @whatsintheboxmh
Eeeemmmm!!!! You did it!!! You’re freee!!! I’m so freakishly proud and over the moon for you my friend💗💗 and I’m very excited to hear what the other side is like!! (just please spare me some details until I’m done with exams in February please).
You making it to the other side, making it through every single annoying assignment, ending your days of always feeling a little bit bad for doing something you enjoy because you could be doing homework instead - all that needs to be celebrated to the fullers!!🎊 (Also you need to be celebrated because you are a kind, lovely, sexy, sweet christmas loving button who sneaks around keeping secrets and then sprinkles holiday joy on one lucky person a day after the other for this whole month.)
Without further ado, have some Tarlos Library Meet Cute for you on your last day of classes!💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
Placing the novel on top of his already tall stack of cook books, Carlos turns slowly, carefully balancing them in his arms, with a plan to head to the counter. Only as he turns he comes face to face with a sight that he is by now, too embarrassingly familiar with.
For a moment he’s too stunned to realize what or rather who the sight implies, too stunned in fact to do anything but stare transfixed on two beautifully rounded globes perfectly accentuated by snug jeans, loose fitted just enough that they don’t reel anything in either.
He’s too busy wondering what it would be like to place his hands right there, thumbs pressing in just above, resting on the top of the plump cheeks, fingers gripping around soft hips; Imagining the feeling under his hands of the pink sweater that’s rucked up as if purposefully making the most magnificent ass Carlos has ever laid his eyes on pop out even more as if that’s even necessary..
He is abruptly pulled out of his daydreaming by a cheerful “Hey Carlos!” coming from somewhere above him. And then several unfortunate events transpire almost at once.
All the blood in his body changes the slow but steady downwards direction it was going in to rush up to his face, his cheeks flushing as he practically tears his gaze from the gorgeous butt, up, up, up, until it lands on the somehow even more devastating sight that is TK’s face beaming down at him.
In a voice sounding like he just travelled 15 years back in time and hit puberty all over again, Carlos yelps out a “TK!” Gathering himself and trying not to think TK probably having just caught him staring at his ass, he clears his throat to make himself sound more like his actual age and then continues to make a fool of himself “I didn’t think you were working today!”
He doesn’t phrase it as a question, rather he almost sounds accusing, and now he’s just gone and revealed that he has memorized TK’s work schedule maybe a little too well. He can feel a small bead of sweat forming on his temple and he feels stuffy in his jacket suddenly.
The worst thing is that while all this has been happening, he’s been desperately and probably very unsubtly trying to restack his books, trying and failing to look casual about it, in an attempt to hide the book he had just placed on top, the hunky, bare chested man in a cardigan and hot-librarian glasses on the cover bearing an obvious and uncanny resemblance to the man currently smiling down at him from the ladder he’s perched on.
The attempts at concealment results in several of the books catapulting dramatically out of his hands, Mr. Perfect, Book and Cover landing on the floor face up and right at TK’s feet.
Within the span of two minutes Carlos has regressed back to his teenage self, his cheeks flushed, voice rising and falling in uncontrollable pitches, and beginning to smell faintly of the type of sweat that comes from your nerves and hormones constantly being in overdrive; he has been uncharacteristically impolite, and on top of it all has managed to reveal not only that he’s memorized TK’s work schedule but also that he likes to read cheesy romance novels about hot librarians - all in front of his crush, who happens to be a librarian.
His crush, who is still smiling down at him, although now also starting to look a little puzzled and slightly concerned as he descends the ladder slowly as if worried that any sudden movements will spook Carlos further. Carlos kind of wants to hit himself on top of his head with a hammer repeatedly.
TK is bending down to pick the books up and, rising, he places them back in Carlos’ arms where the ones that didn’t escape are still stacked. It makes Carlos feel like he’s in some cheesy romantic high school comedy.
Mr. Perfect, Book and Cover is still lying face-up on the floor, and Carlos doesn’t act fast enough to prevent disaster. Before he manages to do anything to stop it, TK is bent down again, picking it up for him while Carlos stands there paralyzed watching it happen in slow motion.
All Carlos can hope for at this point is that TK won’t know that it’s a gay cheesy romance novel and he can pretend he’s just picking it up for his sister or something, but as TK picks up the book recognition shines in his eyes and Carlos cringes internally.
“Oh this is a cute one!” He says, smiling brightly as he hands Carlos the book. “Although the cover is a little cliché,” he laughs and Carlos is so dead. He’s never coming back to this library. It’s too bad though he really liked it. He hasn’t experienced a library having both such a good cook book section and an lgbt+ section that updates its selection of cheesy romance novels every month.
“I picked that out myself actually,” TK talks on but Carlos can barely hear him above the ringing in his ears. He vaguely registers TK say something about the librarian theme being his own little inside joke, and oh god, TK must be aware of how much that guy on the cover looks like him. Carlos has never felt so mortified. And okay, maybe he’s being a tad overdramatic but Carlos has also never experienced a crush like the one he has on TK, and he’s usually pretty good at keeping himself out of embarrassing situations.
“Carlos? Are you okay?” Carlos is once again brought out of a spiral, this time of another kind, by TK’s voice, this time laden with the same concern that colors his face. “Do you need to sit down?” Now TK’s is reaching out a tentative hand towards him and Carlos needs to answer before he has an even more embarrassing reaction to TK actually touching him.
“I’m fine!” He squeaks and seriously what’s up with the puberty part two he’s apparently going through right now? He’s 29 not 15 goddammit! The universe must hate him. TK is understandably not looking very convinced.
“Are you sure? It is pretty hot I’m here and you are wearing a lot of clothes.”
Carlos has to hold himself back from making the situation worse by laughing hysterically at the non-innuendo that only serves his earlier thought about being stuck in some bad romantic comedy. Or maybe more like a bad porn. Maybe removing Mr. Perfect, Book and Cover from the shelf opened up a portal that sucked Carlos in without him knowing and now he’s stuck in the story being badly flirted with by Mr. Perfect himself. He’s realizing his thoughts are a clear sign that he definitely isn’t done spiraling.
He gathers all his self control and manages a completely sane sounding “really, I’m fine,“ and even pairs it with a very normal-looking smile.
“Alright,” TK says slowly, retracting his hand to Carlos’ immense relief. “If you’re sure,” he adds, the concern dissipating hesitantly from his eyes.
Carlos realizes that now is the time to engage in polite small talk to prove to TK that he is really both physically and mentally okay, but there is something naggingly floating around just outside his head and out of reach, something his brain can’t put together. If TK recognizes the book.. if he picked it out..
He can’t finish the thought before he’s interrupted for the third time by TK, who is now the one looking sheepish for some reason, a lovely pink blush adorning his cheeks to go with the green of his eyes. One more thing that Carlos has become familiar with to an embarrassing degree considering how few times he’s actually seen them.
“So,” TK begins, looking briefly down and biting his lip, “I’m actually glad I ran into you. I was um-,” and now it’s TK’s turn to clear his throat before he continues: “Well I was wondering if uh- if- whether you were doing anything this Saturday?” He finishes, blinking back up at Carlos and smiling cutely, eyes sparkling, and looking, for the first time since Carlos met him, a tiny bit insecure.
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amirasainz · 5 months ago
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can you do a carmen x george x amira pls
Heyy.... so I know I#ve been absent for some time now, but I just have a lot of work and studying to do, so I'm not able to post as frequent as I used to. However I will try my best to write all of you're requests.
I this story Lando is painted like the bad guy, vut please be aware that this is NO HATE TOWARDS LANDO. It's just a story, so please read it as such.
Enjoy reading and let me know if you have some requests!
-XoXo
No Part 2!!!
You're enough
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“George…” whispered Amira, her hand gently stroking his back. The man in her arms let out a shuddering breath, prompting the girls on either side of him to hug him tighter. His face was buried in his hands, his posture slumped in his seat. Carmen and Amira shared a look behind George’s back, both feeling lost and helpless.
Just a few minutes ago, they had received the devastating notification that George had been disqualified from the Belgium GP, meaning he lost his hard-earned win. After working tirelessly and executing a brilliant race strategy, it all meant nothing in the end.
At first, George put on a brave face. He received a call from Toto, who was the one to inform his driver about the misfortune. Then came the messages from the other drivers, all of them sending their support and well wishes to him. Through all of this, George maintained a neutral mask. What finally broke his facade were the concerned faces of the two beautiful girls in his driver’s room.
“It’s just—it’s such a stupid reason,” started the Briton, his voice trembling with frustration. “We are talking about 1.5 kg. Freaking 1.5 kg ruined my freaking race. And all thanks to stupid McLaren, just because Lando had a bad weekend and the team didn’t get enough points.” From one second to the next, George’s anger towards his DNS transformed into anger against Lando.
“We all know that Zak is kissing the ground that Lando walks on. Since his first win, he became insufferable. He acts like a god and expects us to pray to him. Worst of all, he compares himself to champions like Senna and Hamilton. Even freaking Schumacher. Not only did he ruin Oscar’s first win, but he also treated us like crap since Miami.” George stood up from his seat, pacing up and down in his room. Carmen and Amira let him continue with his frustrated rant, both of them knowing it would do the Mercedes driver some good.
“He started treating the rest of us horribly. He told Logan that it was only a matter of time before the world forgot his name. To Carlos, he said that Carlos wasn’t even good enough to be the Safety Car driver. He looked me straight in the face and said I only won in Austria thanks to him. And everything he did the past few weeks was crying and whining in front of the cameras.”
While George caught his breath, Amira felt conflicted. On one hand, Lando was her friend and didn’t deserve all of George’s anger after McLaren called for an investigation. On the other hand, George wasn’t wrong. After Miami, Lando really started behaving like a grade-A asshole. Not only to the drivers and other workers but also to her. But that was a problem for another day. All she could think about now was comforting the man in front of her.
Without another thought, Amira stood up and hugged George. Feeling overwhelmed by the disappointment of today’s race, George broke down in tears. Carmen immediately jumped up from the bed, both women hugging the man close to them.
After a few moments, Carmen suggested in a calm voice that the three of them should get on the bed. After situating themselves (George lying on his back with both girls lying on his chest, holding hands), George calmed down. “No matter what, we’ll always be proud of you, George,” whispered Amira. “She is right, amor, it’s us three against the world,” confirmed Carmen. George only hugged the women closer to himself, his heart already feeling lighter. The thought of the three of them together warmed his chest, putting his mind at ease.
As they lay there, the room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle from George. Carmen and Amira exchanged a glance, silently agreeing to stay with him as long as he needed. They knew that this moment, though painful, was a testament to their bond. They were more than just friends; they were a family, united by their shared experiences and unwavering support for one another.
Eventually, George’s breathing steadied, and he began to relax. The weight of the day’s events still lingered, but the presence of Carmen and Amira made it bearable. He knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wouldn’t have to face them alone. With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to find solace in the warmth and comfort of his friends’ embrace.
As the minutes passed, the trio remained entwined, drawing strength from each other. Carmen softly hummed a lullaby, her voice soothing and gentle, while Amira ran her fingers through George’s hair, offering silent reassurance. The room, once filled with tension and despair, now felt like a sanctuary of peace and solidarity.
George’s mind drifted back to the race, replaying the moments of triumph and the crushing blow of disqualification. Yet, with each passing second, the sting of disappointment lessened. He realized that victories and defeats were fleeting, but the bonds he shared with Carmen and Amira were enduring. They were his anchor, his source of strength, and his reason to keep pushing forward.
“Thank you,” George murmured, his voice barely audible. “Thank you for being here with me.”
Carmen kissed his forehead, her eyes filled with warmth. “Always, George. We’re always here for you.”
Amira nodded, her smile tender. “No matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”
With those words, George felt a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead might be challenging, but with Carmen and Amira by his side, he knew he could overcome anything. As he drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the people who loved him most, he felt a profound sense of gratitude and peace.
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