#sf imagines

[cheftsunoda]

Hi! Could you do a story where a single mom and her kid are put somewhere and the kid recognizes one of the drivers voices from their role in cars? The kid once they hear the voice they could go to the driver and ask for an autograph. Could it maybe have some social media in it. I just think it might be cute. Thank you.

movie star — lh44

smau + blurbs

lewis hamilton x!single mom reader

yn gets invited to the paddock by her brother who happens to work for the ferrari team. yn brings along her young child, ella, who happens to be a huge fan of all the cars movies. what happens when ella recognizes lewis’ voice just from his few set of lines?

fc : zaar goedemans

not proofread

(a/n) : i was inspired to write about lewis again im sorryyy. such a cute idea love :)

—

yourusername

autodromo enzo e dino ferrari di imola 📍

liked by lewishamilton, scuderiaferrari, yourbff & 52,097 others.

yourusername : ella’s excellent knowledge of the cars franchise got us an exclusive tour from a very special racing legend;) thank you @/lewishamilton ❤️

tagged : yourbrother, yourbff & lewishamilton

—

yourbrother : didn’t even thank the one who brought you to the paddock in the first place…🥴

liked by yourusername

yourusername : thanks hoe

yourbrother : a “thank you so much. you are the best brother ever” would’ve been preferred.

liked by yourusername

yourusername : we can’t all have what we want now can we?

scuderiaferrari : The cutest little tifosi ❤️😁 You both are welcome back anytime!

liked by yourusername

yourusername : the biggest honor ❤️🫶🏻

yourbff : i walk away for two minutes and you are off with lewis fucking hamilton🤭 best weekend with you and my niece tho❤️

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

yourusername : what can I say? the man is a smooth talker

liked by lewishamilton

charles_leclerc : Ella did not seem too impressed with me😭 It was so nice to meet you guys, hope she had the best time!

liked by yourusename

yourusername : great to meet you, charles! get yourself in a cars movie and she will love you:)

liked by charles_leclerc

yourusername : if it helps I know @/yourbff was never excited to meet you

liked by charles_leclerc

yourbff : yn pls stop embarrassing me

liked by yourusername and charles_leclerc

lewishamilton : Definitely the first time I was ever recognized for my voice acting instead of my driving😁 Love to you both 🫶🏽

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63 : WAIT! is this the adorable little girl with the hot mum you were talking about??

liked by yourusername and lando

lewishamilton : that is the last time I ever tell you anything

username00 : who is this girl??

username8 : her brother is an engineer for Ferrari I believe

—

I don’t know what kind of spell my brother cast on me to agree to this, but somehow, I let him talk me into dragging my four and a half year old through a Formula 1 paddock.

“To be fair,” he said this morning as he handed me the guest passes, “it’s not every day your daughter gets to see real race cars up close. You’re the cool mom now.”

The “cool mom” is currently sweating through her sundress, trying to keep her child from launching herself into a garage.

Ella’s been buzzing since the second we walked in, practically vibrating with excitement. “Mommy,” she whispers like it’s a big secret, “do you think there are Cars cars here?”

I bite back a laugh. “Sort of. These are real race cars. No eyes on the windshield, though.”

She seems skeptical but accepts the answer—until she hears a voice behind us.

“Yeah, we’ll be on track in fifteen. Let’s go over that telemetry—”

Ella gasps. Like, audibly.

I glance over my shoulder just as she whips around and bolts. “Ella!” I call after her, panic rising. “Come back here!”

Too late. She’s already launched herself at a man in red Ferrari gear—who turns just in time to catch her before she crashes into his legs.

“I knew it!” she squeals, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Your name is Lewis Hamilton! Like in Cars! You were the car in the movie! The British one with the shiny paint!”

Lewis—yes, that Lewis Hamilton—blinks down at her, clearly stunned. And then?

He laughs. Full-on, genuine, belly laugh. “Wow, I haven’t heard that in a while.”

I catch up just as he crouches down to her level, still smiling like she just made his entire year.

“I liked your voice,” she says seriously. “You sounded fast.”

I feel like melting into the concrete.

“I’m so sorry,” I rush out, cringing. “She’s been obsessed with Cars lately and heard your voice and… well, now here we are.”

He looks up at me and flashes that movie-star smile. “No need to apologize. That might be the best fan interaction I’ve ever had.”

My cheeks are burning, and not from the sun.

“I’m Lewis,” he says, standing now—still holding my daughter’s hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to sound like a complete idiot. “I figured.”

He glances between me and Ella, and I swear I see something spark behind those sunglasses. Something soft. Curious. Maybe even interested.

Ella’s still talking a mile a minute, hands animated as she tells Lewis about her Lightning McQueen pajamas and how she thinks Ferraris are “way cooler than Francesco Bernoulli, actually.”

Lewis listens like she’s giving a press conference. Nods, laughs in the right places, even kneels down again when she starts talking about how she wants to be a race car driver when she grows up. It’s… oddly heart-melting.

“She’s got good taste,” he says, standing again after she finishes her full review of Cars 2. “And quite the memory. I think I said four lines in that movie.”

“She watches it on loop,” I reply with a sheepish smile. “I think she could recite it backwards by now.”

“Poor you,” he jokes, then chuckles. “Actually, I take that back. That’s a solid film.”

“Strong performances all around,” I say, trying to keep it light, though my heart is hammering. I’m talking to Lewis Hamilton. Casual. No big deal.

He grins, and I swear the sun gets just a little brighter. “You’re her mum?”

“Yeah,” I say, glancing down at Ella, who’s now twirling around like she’s doing celebratory donuts. “My brother works with Ferrari, so he invited us for the day.”

“Ah. The guy in the headset who looked mildly panicked when she ran over?” he teases, gesturing toward Matt a few garages down, who’s giving me a thumbs-up and a very smug grin.

“That’s him. He’s never letting me live this down.”

Lewis laughs. “Well, I’m glad he brought you both. It’s nice having a bit of joy in the paddock for once. Most people here only run toward me if I’ve said something controversial.”

“Ella just thinks you’re a cool car,” I say, smiling.

“Honestly, I’ll take that over a journalist any day.”

There’s a beat of silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s… comfortable. Easy.

Then he surprises me.

“Can I get you a coffee or something?” he asks, glancing back toward the hospitality suite. “We’ve got some time before the next briefing. And I kind of want to hear more about your daughter’s movie critiques.”

I blink. “Are you—are you asking me out in the paddock?”

He shrugs, that same charming grin on his face. “Just coffee. Unless you want it to be more.”

My face feels like it’s on fire.

“I’d like that,” I manage. “I mean—the coffee. Not necessarily more. I mean—not not more. Just… yes. Coffee is good.”

He laughs again, clearly entertained by my slow-motion trainwreck.

“Come on,” he says, offering a hand. “I promise the coffee’s better than the movie acting.”

As we walk side by side, Ella skips ahead of us, humming the Cars soundtrack like she’s soundtracking our entire lives.

—

I don’t know what I expected when Lewis Hamilton invited me for coffee, but it definitely wasn’t this. Not sitting across from him on a shaded terrace at the Ferrari hospitality suite, both of us laughing while Ella colors in a cartoon car on a napkin someone kindly fetched just for her. Not the easy conversation. Not the way he kept looking at me like he wanted to memorize my face. And definitely not how comfortable it all feels.

“Okay,” he says, leaning back in his chair after Ella proudly announces that her drawing is him and “not Lightning McQueen this time.” “I have to ask.”

Uh-oh.

“Are you…” He glances at me, then lowers his voice, playful but deliberate. “Single? Just to be sure.”

I blink. Then laugh, a little surprised. “That obvious?”

“Not obvious,” he says, smiling. “But I don’t go around offering coffee to taken women. Or, you know, giving them the ‘Cars 2’ VIP experience.”

My cheeks warm. “Well, yes. I’m single. Been single for a while, actually.”

He nods once, and I swear I see something shift in his expression. Something a little more… serious. But still soft.

“Good,” he says, then pulls his phone out from the pocket of his red Ferrari team trousers and hands it to me. “Because I’d really like to see you again. Properly. Outside of this chaos.”

I blink down at the phone in my hands. He opened the contact app. My name is already typed in at the top.

“I mean—if you’d want to,” he adds, suddenly a little less sure of himself, which I find wildly endearing. “No pressure.”

I look up at him and smile. “Lewis, you let my daughter lecture you on Cars 2 for ten minutes and still wanted to talk to me after.”

He grins.

“Yeah, I’d want to.”

I type in my number, hesitating only slightly before adding a little 🚗 emoji at the end of my name, then hand it back to him.

He looks at it, chuckles under his breath. “Perfect.”

Ella tugs on my sleeve, then looks up at Lewis with hopeful eyes. “Can you be in Cars 4 too?”

Lewis raises his brows at me, pretending to think. “That depends. Will your mum come with me to the premiere?”

I nearly choke on my iced latte.

Ella looks between us and shrugs, already focused on her next drawing.

And just like that, I know this day is going to be one we won’t forget.

—

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, yourbff, georgerussell63 & 75,099 others.

yourusername : in love with life <3

—

username00 : oh it’s lewis 100 percent. those r his tattoos

username5 : never ever thought I’d see !dad lewis

yourbff : hold on I’m screaming

liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc : Hope Ella likes the helmet! It was one of my first when I was young ❤️

liked by yourusername

yourusername : you are an angel! she absolutely loves it and i told her it came from “Charles the cool Ferrari guy” 🫶🏻

liked by charles_leclerc

username00 : Charles gave the child an old helmet?? Im screaming

username10 : omg it’s Roscoe

georgerussell63 : does ella like mercedes??

liked by yourusername

yourusername : unknown. however she would probably like you as she associates British accents with being fast :)

liked by georgerussell63, lando and lewishamilton

lando : smart kid

liked by yourusername

—

It’s been a month since our first date, and honestly? I still don’t believe any of it’s real. Sometimes I catch myself smiling like a lovesick teenager when I’m washing dishes or folding laundry, just remembering the way Lewis looked at me over coffee that day. The way he waited for Ella to finish her story before speaking. The way he texts me goodnight every night, no matter what country he’s in or how late his schedule runs. He’s busy — obviously. He’s Lewis Hamilton, and that comes with endless media, team meetings, travel, and the weight of an entire sport on his shoulders. But he’s never once made me feel like a burden. Never once made Ella feel like too much. We’ve spent weekends together when he’s in town. Park visits. Breakfasts in my tiny kitchen. Late-night talks on my couch with Ella fast asleep in the next room. I’ve watched them build a little world of inside jokes and shared grins. And every time I see them together, my heart squeezes. Still, it’s been five days since we’ve seen him in person, and Ella’s already asked when he’s coming back “from the big car work.” I miss him too. More than I expected to. More than I probably should, after only a month. My phone buzzes just as I settle on the couch with a glass of wine.

FaceTime from Lewis ❤️

I answer without hesitation. His face fills the screen, slightly fuzzy from wherever he is — a hotel room, judging by the neutral headboard behind him.

“Hey,” I say, smiling. “Didn’t expect to see your face tonight.”

He grins, and something about it looks a little softer. A little more tired than usual.

“Hi, beautiful. Had to see you. And maybe ask when I can get a certain tiny helmet-wearing human back in my arms.”

I laugh, shifting the phone so he can see Ella’s drawing of a “race car house” she made earlier. “She misses you. She told the preschool teacher you live in the Cars universe.”

He chuckles, then goes quiet for a second. “I miss you both.”

My breath catches. He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like it’s not still blowing my mind every time he chooses us.

“I miss you too,” I admit. “It’s not the same without you here.”

There’s a pause. Then, he leans closer to the camera, a little more serious now.

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts. “I’ve got back-to-back races coming up, but I don’t want to go another couple weeks without seeing you. Or Ella. What if… you came with me? Both of you.”

I blink. “You want us to travel with you?”

“I do,” he says gently. “Only if you’re comfortable. I know it’s a lot — new places, media, the chaos. But we’d make it work. I’ll take care of everything. I just…” He runs a hand over his jaw. “I want you there. Both of you. It already feels weird being away.”

My heart flips. Like actually flips.

“She’d lose her mind,” I whisper, stunned.

He smiles. “I hope so.”

“And me?” I tease, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes soften. “You already have.”

—

There’s something surreal about standing outside my apartment at 6 a.m., suitcase at my feet, coffee in one hand, watching Ella bounce in place like she’s about to launch into orbit.

“Do you think the jet has snacks?” she asks for the fifth time in ten minutes, clutching her tiny backpack like it holds national secrets. “Like popcorn? Or cookies? Or astronaut food?”

I laugh softly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. “I’m sure it has snacks, babe. You’ll probably get to pick.”

She gasps. “Even juice?”

“Even juice,” I nod solemnly.

She’s practically vibrating now, and I can’t blame her. I’m nervous too…not because I don’t want to go, but because it feels like such a big step. Not just a vacation or a getaway. It’s a real peek into his world, the fast paced, private jet, race weekend chaos that Lewis calls normal.

And the fact that he wants us there? That he asked for us?

A sleek black SUV pulls up to the curb, and Ella freezes like a deer in headlights. “Is that him? Is it Daddy Lightning?”

I stifle a laugh. “Is that his new nick name?”

The door opens, and there he is — hoodie pulled up, sunglasses on, all sleepy-smile and early-morning calm.

“Morning, ladies,” he says, stepping out and immediately crouching to Ella’s level. “Are we ready for our big adventure?”

She throws her arms around him without hesitation. “Do you live on the plane?”

He laughs, lifting her up with ease. “Not quite. But we’ll be on it for a few hours, so that’s close enough, right?”

She nods seriously. “Do I get to sit in the front?”

“We’ll see what the pilot says,” he winks.

Then his eyes meet mine over her shoulder, and something quiet passes between us. It’s warm. Grounded. Like he sees me in the middle of all this whirlwind, and still chooses me anyway.

“Hi,” he says gently.

“Hi,” I smile, nerves melting the second he takes my suitcase from me like it’s instinct.

The ride to the airstrip is a blur of laughter, Ella’s endless questions, and Lewis glancing over at me like he can’t believe this is real either.

And then we’re there — standing at the base of a sleek private jet, the sun just beginning to rise behind it. Ella clutches my hand and whispers, “This is like the movies.”

I squeeze hers. “Yeah, it really is.”

Lewis helps us up the steps, his hand on my back, and the second we step inside, Ella gasps.

“It’s like a flying living room!”

She’s right — plush seats, soft lighting, snacks already set out like a welcome gift. Lewis sets our bags down and gestures for her to explore.

“Make yourself at home,” he grins. “You’re officially part of the team now.”

She spins in a slow circle, then plops into a seat with a giggle. “Best. Day. Ever.”

And I can’t help it — I look at him, heart full to bursting, and whisper, “Thank you.”

He turns to me, eyes soft. “You don’t have to thank me. This just feels… right.”

And as the engines hum to life and Ella starts singing the Cars theme under her breath, I realize he’s right.

—

The second we step into the paddock, Ella’s already tugging at my hand, eyes wide like she’s just walked into Disneyland for motorsport lovers. Which, to be fair… she has. She’s got her oversized Ferrari cap on — gifted by Lewis, obviously — and her little team tee that nearly reaches her knees. There’s a lanyard with her paddock pass bouncing against her chest, and an expression on her face that says she’s exactly where she belongs. We’re barely past the entrance when she spots someone and gasps dramatically.

“Mama,” she hisses. “UNCLE FERRARI!!”

Before I can even ask what that means, she’s bolting straight across the walkway — and right into the arms of Charles Leclerc.

He lets out a surprised laugh but catches her easily, crouching down as she throws her arms around his neck like they’ve known each other forever.

“Bonjour, petite fille,” he grins, his accent soft. “Uncle Ferrari?”

Ella nods solemnly. “You’re the red one. My favorite.”

From a few steps behind us, my brother bursts out laughing.

“Oh really, Ella?” he calls over. “What does that make me then?”

She blinks at him, thinking very hard. “Uncle Ferrari boss.”

I nearly choke.

Charles is now laughing, absolutely delighted. “You’ve been upgraded,” he tells my brother with a wink.

“You see what I deal with?” I murmur as I walk over, cheeks warm.

My brother grins. “Honestly? She’s already more popular in this paddock than most of our drivers.”

He’s not wrong.

And then—like some sort of comedic timing conspiracy—Lando Norris strolls in, clearly intrigued by the toddler-sized Ferrari fan in Charles’s arms.

“What’s all this?” he asks, eyes twinkling as he bends down. “Who’s this little legend? Is this the Ella?”

Ella turns her head, still in Charles’s arms. “Who are you?”

Charles chuckles. “That’s Lando. He drives the orange one.”

She squints. “Like… orange Lightning McQueen?”

Lando gasps, offended and flattered all at once. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever called me.”

Right on cue, George Russell appears, sunglasses on, sipping something green and healthy-looking, clocking the scene instantly.

“Don’t tell me we have a new favorite on the grid?” he says with a teasing glance at Charles.

“She already declared me Uncle Ferrari,” Charles says smugly.

“Uncle who?” George repeats, eyebrow raised. Then he leans down toward Ella. “And what am I then?”

She eyes him, deadly serious. “Uncle Sunglasses.”

George looks personally attacked.

“She’s not wrong,” I mumble, trying not to laugh.

Charles passes Ella back to me and says, “You’ll have to earn new titles, boys.”

I smile as Ella curls back into my arms, thrilled and smug and totally in her element.

Lando looks at me for the first time — really looks. “You must be YN.”

“Guilty,” I laugh. “And mildly horrified by the chaos she’s already caused.”

“No chaos,” George grins, offering a hand. “Just a ray of sunshine — and, let’s be honest, the new face of the Ferrari junior program.”

Charles nods sagely. “It’s settled then.”

—

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, lando & 122,099 others.

yourusername : well ella has started collecting f1 drivers like infinity stones

tagged : yourbff, charles_leclerc, lando, georgerussell63 & lewishamilton

—

charles_leclerc : uncle ferrari is her favorite, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise ❤️🇲🇨

liked by yourusername

yourbrother : the second she realized how cool charles is — I became chopped liver 😁

liked by yourusername & charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc : nah bro she gave you a promotion…you are still clearly number one here 😁

liked by yourusername and yourbrother

yourbff : she is just like her auntie fr

liked by yourusername

yourusername : I can’t with you

username00 : this is so cute omg

username10 : and the heart hand with lewis. They are def dating

lando : uncle orange lightning 💪🏻🧡 I should ask for a movie deal

liked by yourusername

yourusername : ella would def help write the script

F1 : Ella is definitely going to make Cars 4 happen and half the grid will be starring in it! 🎬

liked by yourusername

yourusername : probably called “all my uncles are race cars“

georgerussell63 : honestly uncle sunglasses makes me sound like the fashion icon i am. such an honor.

liked by yourusername

carmenmmundt: is ella looking for an aunt sunglasses ??❤️

liked by yourusername

yourusername : she is looking for any excuse to extend our family😁 welcome ❤️

liked by carmenmmundt

lewishamilton : you all might be uncles but daddy lightning reigns supreme 🤍

liked by yourusername and lando

yourusername : still can’t believe that’s your new name 🤦🏻‍♀️

liked by lewishamilton

lewishamilton : it’s my honor

liked by yourusername

—

lewis’ pov

Three months. Ninety-something days since our first date. And somehow, it already feels like a lifetime — in the best way possible.

I’ve fallen in love twice in that time. Once with YN. And once with the tiny, bossy, endlessly curious human who came with her.

Ella.

She’s currently sitting cross-legged on the floor of my hotel suite, wearing her favorite Ferrari hoodie (that she refuses to take off even when it’s 24 degrees outside), munching on grapes, and watching Cars for what I think is the third time today. Maybe fourth. I’ve lost count.

YN is finally getting the full day to herself I’ve been begging her to take — massage, facial, lunch with her best friend, the works. I practically shoved her into the spa robe myself this morning while Ella shouted “BYEEEEEEEEE MAMA!” like she wasn’t secretly obsessed with her.

Honestly? I was more nervous than I thought I’d be.

It’s one thing to be with YN and Ella, our little trio. But just me and Ella? On our own?

Turns out, I didn’t need to worry.

We’ve been building forts. Making up names for the pit crew. Drawing faces on fruit. She told me earlier that my beard makes me look “wise like a lion.”

I’ll take it.

Right now, she scoots closer to the couch, then climbs up beside me without a word. I put the remote down and wrap an arm around her shoulders automatically.

“Still tired, munchkin?”

She nods, rubbing her eyes. Then she curls into my side and rests her cheek against my chest like she’s done it a hundred times before.

We sit in silence, just the hum of the movie in the background and the soft weight of her against me. It’s the kind of stillness that feels sacred.

Then, out of nowhere, she mumbles it.

“Love you, Daddy.”

My heart actually stops.

It takes a second for my brain to catch up. I glance down, thinking maybe I heard her wrong — maybe she meant teddy or Laddy, the dog from the movie or some imaginary character I’ve missed — but no.

She’s looking up at me with sleepy eyes and the softest smile.

Like she knows.

“Did you…” I start, my voice catching. “Did you just call me—?”

“Daddy,” she repeats, gently. “You’re mine, right?”

Something in my chest breaks wide open.

I gather her into my arms fully now, holding her like she’s the most precious thing I’ve ever touched — because she is.

“Yeah, baby,” I whisper into her hair. “I’m yours. Always.”

And I mean it more than I’ve meant anything in my life.

When YN texts me an hour later.

how’s my wild child??

She’s perfect. Everything’s perfect.

Remind me to tell you what she said today.

(You’re gonna cry, by the way.)

—

your pov :

I knew something had shifted the second I walked back into the hotel suite.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. The lights were low, Ella was tucked into bed, and Lewis was sitting on the couch in one of his hoodies, staring down at his hands. Calm. Still. But there was something in the air — soft and heavy, like a truth waiting to be spoken.

He looked up when he heard me come in and smiled that quiet kind of smile I’ve only seen him give when it’s just us. No cameras. No circuits. Just him and me and Ella.

“Hey,” I said, voice gentle. “How’d it go?”

“She was an angel,” he said softly. “You should go to the spa more often.”

I laughed and walked toward him, kicking off my shoes and sitting beside him on the couch. “Did she make you watch Cars again?”

“Twice,” he nodded. “And she made Lightning McQueen a girl this time. She renamed him Elaina.”

“Of course she did.”

He looked at me then — really looked at me — and I felt the air shift again.

“She said something today,” he said, voice lower now. “Something kind of big.”

My heart stilled. “What do you mean?”

“She called me ‘Daddy.’” His voice cracked the tiniest bit. “Just… said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.”

My breath caught.

Tears welled in my eyes instantly — fast, overwhelming, real.

“She what?” I whispered.

“She looked up at me, smiled, and just… said it.” He paused. “And I swear, YN, I’ve never felt anything like that in my life.”

I covered my mouth with one hand, completely undone.

“She’s never called anyone that before,” I said, barely able to get the words out. “Not once.”

“I know,” he said, scooting closer. “And I didn’t want to tell you just to tell you. I wanted to tell you because… I realized something.”

I blinked up at him, heart pounding.

“I love her,” he said simply. “So much it scares me. But I love you, too. Completely. Quietly. Loudly. All of it.”

My breath hitched. His eyes never left mine.

“I don’t want this to be casual,” he continued. “I don’t want to be your maybe. I want to be your person. I want to be hers. I want to be ours.”

Tears slid down my cheeks, but I was smiling now.

“You already are,” I whispered.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine.

“So then let’s make it official,” he murmured. “No more soft launches. No more pretending we’re not already a family.”

I kissed him — soft, grateful, all-in — and whispered against his lips.

“Okay. Official.”

And it felt like the most natural, beautiful yes I’d ever given.

—

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, yourbrother, charles_leclerc & 5,090,787 others.

lewishamilton : didn’t just fall in love with my beautiful girlfriend but also fell in love with her mini me ❤️ my girls for life

—

yourusername : my whole heart ❤️😭 we love you sm

liked by lewishamilton

yourbrother : did not have lewis hamilton becoming my brother in law on the bingo card for this season but so happy for you guys!

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

yourbff : never thought id see her become a wag😭🤭 so happy for you both. thank you for making my best friend so happy lewis

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

charles_leclerc : So happy for you both❤️ and give my sweet little ella a kiss from uncle ferrari

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

georgerussell63 : Happy you found two people who make you as happy as you deserve to be, brother. Even if one of those people calls me uncle sunglasses 😎

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

yourusername : maybe one day if you’re lucky you’ll manage to get an uncle george out of her but no promises

liked by georgerussell63 and lewishamilton

georgerussell63 : nah I wouldn’t trade being uncle sunglasses for anything in the world ❤️

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

lando : ella really said im gonna meet my goat, get my mom a boyfriend and add like 20 uncles to the family and made it all happen. she is rlly that girl

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

yourusername : she loves her uncle orange lightning 🫶🏻

liked by lando

—

🧚🏻🦋🌙🌵🪲

[formulafanfics13]

The Podium Princess - MV1, PG10, LN4, LH44, CL16, OP81 🔥

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They called her the trophy. Not to her face, no one was that bold, but behind closed doors, in locker rooms and paddocks, in late-night strategy meetings when the real prize had already been won. Not points. Not podiums. Her.

She wasn't a model. Wasn't PR. Wasn't on payroll or affiliated with any team. No last name in the paddock. No title. Just her. Always in the right place at the right time. Always watching. Always waiting.

There were rumours. That Toto had hired her. That Christian had tried to. That she'd once broken Max in two and left Lando shaking. That Lewis kissed her ankle after Japan '21 and whispered something in her ear that made her cry, and still came first the next weekend.

She never spoke publicly. Never posted. Never smiled for the cameras. But after every race, every time the confetti hit the air, she was already waiting. The three podium finishers. Gold, silver, bronze. First, second, third.

They knew what came next.

She was the reward. The ritual. The tradition unspoken but carved into the sport. And every man on the grid wanted to earn her.

She was already waiting in the suite. Monza's podium had ended hours ago. Champagne sprayed, interviews given, suits half-unzipped and post-race high still vibrating in the air. The hotel room, booked before the race even started, was lit with soft amber lighting. Warm. Clean. No cameras.

And she was on her knees. Naked. Waiting. The door opened. Max stepped in first. Always. His footsteps were slow, measured. Calm fury. Gold medal draped around his neck, champagne still lingering on his throat, jaw clenched.

He didn't say hello. He never did. He just walked to her, grabbed her chin, and tilted her head up. "You watched?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Who did you want to win?"

"I I wanted you to-"

"Good."

He dropped his hand. Unzipped. Let his race suit hang at his waist as he stared down at her. Cold eyes. Hot rage. "You'll thank me later for making sure they didn't get first."

She didn't ask who they was. Because Charles and Lando were behind him.

Charles closed the door gently. Shrugged off his jacket. Smiled. Soft and unbothered. Lando was already panting. Hands in his curls, pacing like he couldn't wait another second. Silver medal hanging crooked against his chest.

"You looked so pretty in the paddock," Charles murmured. "You wear that dress for us?"

She nodded. "For the podium."

"Our podium," Max snapped.

"Only ours," Lando added quickly.

She tried to speak again, but Max stepped forward and grabbed her hair. "No talking unless we tell you."

She whimpered.

Charles walked behind her and trailed his fingers down her spine. "You're shaking already, bébé. You want us that bad?"

"She's wet already," Lando said, crouching in front of her. His fingers dipped between her thighs without permission. "Fuck. She's dripping."

"Because she knows what she's here for," Max growled.

"She's a toy," Charles said softly. "Not a girl. A reward."

Lando moaned. "She's our reward."

Max grabbed her by the throat and pushed her down. "Open your mouth."

She did. Fast. Eager.

"God, she's trained," Charles muttered.

Max shoved his cock past her lips without hesitation. "Not gentle," he snapped. "She doesn't deserve gentle. Not after watching them on the podium too."

Tears welled in her eyes as Max fucked her mouth, fast, deep. His hand never left her hair. Her throat burned. Her hands shook. She moaned around him like she liked it.

Behind her, Charles was spreading her knees wider. "She's shaking," he said. "Look at her, Max. She's falling apart already."

Lando sat on the bed, stroking himself slowly, watching them with glazed eyes. "Can I have her mouth next?" he asked, desperate.

"You can have whatever's left of her," Max grunted.

He pulled out, her spit glistening on his cock. Her jaw ached. Her eyes were already ruined.

"Up," Charles said. "Hands on the bed."

She obeyed. Still silent. Still their toy.

Lando moved behind her, guiding himself into her mouth with shaky fingers. "God-fuck-she missed me."

Max stood behind her now, staring down at her ass, the way her body trembled. "She's not ready for both."

"She'll take it," Charles said calmly, dragging a hand through her hair. "She always does."

Max pushed inside. No warning. No gentleness. She screamed around Lando's cock. She was full. Too full. One in her mouth. One in her cunt. Body caught between them, stretched and used.

Charles sat beside her head, petting her hair. "That's it, sweetheart. Let the podium take its prize."

"She's mine," Max growled.

"She's ours," Lando gasped, fucking her mouth harder.

"Don't come yet," Charles said softly. "She hasn't even begged."

Max slapped her ass. "Beg."

She moaned. Tried. Choked.

"Beg."

She sobbed. "Please-use me-need you-want to be-your prize-your toy-please-please-"

"That's a good girl," Charles whispered.

They fucked her harder. Tears ran down her face. Her body shook. They didn't stop. Because she was theirs. And they had earned her.

She didn't know how long she'd been on her knees. Couldn't remember how many times she'd moaned, how many times Lando had kissed her cheek and whispered "good girl" while fucking her throat like he couldn't breathe without it. Her body was shaking. Fucked open from behind, stuffed full in the front. Every nerve fried.

But it wasn't over. Not even close. Because Max, still behind her, still deep inside her, pulled out just long enough to grab his phone from the bedside table. And pressed record. "Keep her still," he snapped at Charles.

Charles leaned forward immediately, one hand in her hair, the other around her waist. "Open your mouth wider," he whispered against her ear. "Max wants a good shot."

She tried. Gagged. Lando groaned. "Fuck, that's it. You're so fucking pretty like this."

Max stepped back, phone tilted slightly down. The screen lit her up. On all fours. Face soaked. Lips wrapped around Lando's cock. Ass red. Pussy dripping. Her whole body shaking like a ruined toy. And that's what Max wanted to remember.

He circled them, slow, camera rolling. "Look at her," he muttered. "Taking it like she was made for this. Like her only purpose is to be fucked by the podium."

"She's better than a trophy," Lando said, fucking her mouth deeper. "Trophies don't cry."

"She lives to cry for us," Charles added, kissing her neck.

She moaned around Lando's cock, a wet, broken sound.

Max reached around, spread her ass with one hand, filmed her pussy stretched open, slick and swollen. "Say it," he growled. "Tell the camera whose you are."

She choked. Could barely breathe.

Charles whispered in her ear again. "Go on, ma belle. Tell him. Say you belong to the winners."

She sobbed. "I-belong-to the podium-only-the podium-please-"

Max groaned. "Fuck, she's perfect."

He tossed the phone on the bed, still recording, still angled perfectly, and slammed back into her. She screamed. The force knocked her forward, throat tightening around Lando's cock. Lando let out a strangled moan, both hands gripping her hair now.

Charles slid in front of her again. "Too much?"

She shook her head, tears spilling.

"Good," he said, kissing her forehead.

Max was relentless. Deep, brutal thrusts. Skin slapping. Filthy sounds echoing in the room. "Gonna come in her," he grunted. "She'll feel it for days."

"Not until I do," Lando panted.

"She'll take both," Charles murmured. "She always does."

Lando came first. Deep. Loud. Hands fisting in her hair. She gagged as he spilled down her throat. He moaned her name. Said "thank you" like she was something holy.

Then Max. He didn't warn her. Just shoved in harder, filled her up, grabbed the phone again to record her shaking body as he came. Pressed the lens to her back, her ass, the mess dripping out of her. "She's mine," he said.

And Charles? Charles pulled her up by the throat, kissed her mouth full of Lando's come, then whispered in French, something filthy, something possessive, and came all over her chest, groaning as she collapsed in his arms.

The three of them stood there. Breathless. Spent. She was twitching on the bed. Mouth open. Eyes half-closed. Body leaking from both ends. The phone was still recording. And Max was still smiling. "Podium earned."

*

Japan was quiet. Until it wasn't. The hotel suite had been prepared hours before the checkered flag. Same champagne chilling in the bucket. Same lighting. Same velvet chair in the corner for watching. Same bed in the middle of the room. And her. Already on her knees.

Hair brushed. Skin lotioned. Collar on. Nothing else. Her body was still sore from Monza. Still marked from Charles' teeth, from Max's fingers. Her throat had healed. Her thighs hadn't.

But she was here. Because they'd won her. Again. Max entered first. As always. He didn't greet her. He never did. Just walked straight to her, gripped her jaw, tilted her face up to inspect her. "You missed me?"

She nodded, lips parted.

"Show me."

She leaned in and kissed the tip of his cock through his race suit. Once. Twice. Reverent.

He smiled. Cold. "Good girl."

Then Lewis walked in. And everything changed. Because Lewis wasn't Max. He didn't need to speak first. He just walked to the window, took off his jewelry slowly, placed it on the dresser one piece at a time. Watched her reflection in the glass. "She looks nervous," he said calmly.

"She should be," Max replied, already undoing his zipper. "She's got a lot to take tonight."

Then Pierre. Bronze. Third. First time on the right side of this room. He stopped at the door like he'd walked into a dream. "Fuck," he whispered.

She turned her head, eyes locking with his. Wide. Wet. Waiting.

"She's beautiful," he breathed. "You weren't exaggerating."

"She's better than beautiful," Max said, walking behind her. "She's obedient."

Pierre stepped closer. Crouched in front of her. Reached out, hesitated. "Can I-?"

"She's yours," Lewis said, finally turning around. "For the night, she belongs to us."

Pierre's hand touched her face. Soft. Awestruck. "She's warm," he whispered.

Lewis moved behind her. "She's always warm for winners."

Max was already stroking himself. "Let's show him how it works."

They guided her to the bed. Pierre sat at the edge. She crawled between his legs like instinct. Mouth open. Max climbed behind her, spreading her thighs wide. Lewis stayed by the dresser. Watching. Unbuttoning his shirt with slow precision.

"Go ahead," Max told Pierre. "She'll take you."

Pierre moaned the moment she wrapped her lips around him. "Jesus Christ."

"She's good," Max said, lining himself up. "But she cries better."

And then he was inside her. Rough. Deep. Immediate. She gagged around Pierre's cock. Her knees buckled.

Lewis walked to the side of the bed and leaned down. "Don't stop." 

Her eyes were already wet. Pierre had his hands in her hair. "She's- fuck- she's tight."

"She's always tight," Max groaned, thrusting harder. "I ruin her and she still grips like it's her first time."

"She's making noise," Lewis said, kneeling beside her. "Open wider."

She tried. Moaned. Shook. "Good girl."

Max grabbed her hips and pulled her back harder. "She'll come just from being used like this. Watch."

Pierre looked like he couldn't breathe. "She's taking both of us..."

"She can take three," Lewis murmured. "Kiss her."

Pierre leaned in, kissed her mouth between thrusts. "You're so fucking good."

Max was panting now. "Touch her clit."

Lewis reached down, found her swollen bud, and rubbed slow circles. She screamed.

Pierre moaned. "She's gonna-fuck-"

"She's allowed," Lewis said. "Let her come for us."

She came hard. Loud. Her whole body trembling as Max didn't stop. As Pierre fucked her throat like it was the only place he wanted to live. As Lewis kept his finger on her clit until her hips jerked from the overstimulation.

And still, none of them stopped. Because the podium never finishes first. She wasn't speaking anymore. Not because she wasn't allowed. But because she couldn't. Her voice had cracked an hour ago.

Her mouth was raw from Lando. Her cunt was swollen from Max. Her whole body was shaking, red, marked, pulsing with every heartbeat. And she was still taking them. Because it was Suzuka. And the podium hadn't finished.

Pierre had just come in her mouth. Soft moans. Apologetic hands. A trembling thank you like he didn't know what else to say.

Max had pulled out mid-fuck just to smear himself across her back, panting curses in Dutch, promising to do it harder next time.

But Lewis? Lewis hadn't even started yet. He stood by the bed like a king waiting for silence. Shirtless. Calm. Gold chain still hanging against his chest. His hand stroked his cock slowly, not because he needed to, but because he liked making her wait.

Pierre sat back in the velvet chair, legs spread, shirt undone. Watching her like art. "She's perfect," he whispered. "You were right."

"She's not perfect," Max muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed, still breathing hard. "She's ours."

Lewis finally spoke. "Lift her."

Max grabbed her under the arms. Pierre moved to help, hands gentle even as she whimpered. They laid her flat across the bed. Back arched. Arms above her head. Legs trembling, spread.

Lewis stepped between them. Looked down. "Been a while, huh?" he murmured, rubbing her clit with two fingers. "Last time was Spa. You remember?"

She nodded. Barely.

He slid two fingers in. She cried out. "So tight," he said. "Still greedy after all that cock."

Then, without warning, he pushed in. All of him. She screamed.

Lewis didn't flinch. Didn't slow. "Deep breath, baby."

He started to fuck her slow. Deep. Deliberate.

Max stroked her cheek, watching her cry. "She loves it."

"She was made for it," Lewis said, thrusting harder. "A hole for winners."

Pierre swallowed hard. "Can I... try her again?"

Max laughed. "Not like that."

Lewis grinned, pulled out. "Flip her."

They moved her like a doll. Onto her stomach. Ass up. Face pressed into the sheets.

"Ever done both at once?" Pierre asked.

Max smiled. "Of course."

Lewis got on the bed behind her. Lined up again. "Hold her mouth open," he said.

Pierre moved in front. Palmed her cheek. "You ready?"

She nodded.

"Good girl."

And then, both.

Lewis pushed into her cunt. Pierre pushed into her mouth. She choked. Moaned. Cried. Her body shuddered.

"Holy fuck," Pierre gasped. "She's, Jesus-"

Lewis grabbed her hips. "Take it."

Max stood behind them, filming again. "Look at this fucking mess," he muttered. "All for us."

Pierre fucked her mouth faster. Lewis hit deeper. Harder. She came again, screaming around Pierre's cock.

"God- she's coming again-"

"Let her," Lewis growled.

She collapsed. Legs shaking. Body twitching. And Lewis didn't stop.

"Gonna come in her," he said. "She needs to feel it."

Pierre moaned. "Me too- fuck- I'm-" He spilled in her mouth. Groaned like he couldn't believe it. "She swallowed-fuck-thank you-thank you-"

Lewis came inside her seconds later. Gripped her hips like he was claiming her. "Stuffed," he whispered. "You're full, baby."

She moaned into the sheets. Boneless. Gone. And the podium? Satisfied. For now.

*

She was already panting when the door closed.

Qatar heat still clung to her skin, sweat slick between her thighs. The podium had finished late, media delayed them, the champagne sticky on their suits, but the minute the suite door shut, everything changed.

Lando threw his medal on the floor. Oscar locked the door. 

Lewis didn't speak. He just walked to her, slow, controlled, and touched her chin. "You look nervous."

"I-I'm okay," she whispered.

He tilted her face up. "You remember what happens when you lie to me?"

She swallowed.

Oscar sat on the edge of the bed. "She's shaking."

Lando was already shirtless, pacing like a tiger. "She knows what's coming."

Lewis smirked. "Then let's get started."

She was naked in minutes. Bent over the bed, arms stretched forward, thighs open. Lando already between them, two fingers buried in her soaked pussy, grinning like it was Christmas. "She missed me," he muttered. "She's soaking."

"Because she's ours now," Oscar said, sliding behind her, kissing her spine. "She knows who she belongs to."

Lewis sat in the chair. Watching. Palming himself through his trousers. Calm. Calculating. "She's been good," he said. "Let her come once."

Lando immediately curled his fingers up. Oscar pressed against her from behind, whispering filth in her ear. "Come for the podium, baby."

She did. Hard. Loud. Her knees buckled. Her voice broke. And then, the tone shifted.

Lewis stood. Walked behind her. Touched the small of her back. "You ready for more?" he asked.

She nodded. He kissed her temple. "Good. Because tonight, we're using your ass."

She froze.

Lando moaned under his breath. "Holy shit, are we really?"

"She's ready," Lewis said. "We've trained her. She's taken us all. It's time."

Oscar kissed her shoulder. "You trust us, don't you?"

She whimpered. "Yes."

"Then breathe," Lewis whispered. "And stay still."

They took their time. Not out of kindness, out of intention. Oscar was the first to prepare her. Lube. Two fingers at first. Then three. Slow, slow, slow. She cried into the sheets, thighs shaking.

Lewis whispered by her ear. "Don't hold your breath, baby."

She exhaled.

Oscar twisted his fingers. "She's so tight."

"She's never been taken there," Lando said, climbing on the bed beside her. "Let me have her mouth."

"Take it," Lewis said. "She can multitask."

She opened for Lando automatically, gagging around him as Oscar worked deeper behind her. And Lewis? Lewis knelt beside the bed, fingers stroking her spine. "Good girl. Keep breathing."

She moaned around Lando's cock.

Oscar pulled his fingers out. "She's ready."

And then Oscar pushed in. Her body arched. She screamed around Lando.

Lewis held her down. "Shh," he soothed. "You're okay. Just breathe. That's it. Let it burn."

Oscar didn't stop. Thrust deeper. Slower. "She's fucking incredible," he muttered. "She's squeezing so tight."

Lando fucked her throat harder, watching her tears spill. "She's crying."

"She's allowed," Lewis said. "She's being broken in."

Oscar groaned. "She's taking all of me- fuck-"

Lewis leaned in and kissed her lips, just beside where Lando's cock split them open. "You're perfect," he whispered. "Our little slut."

Oscar's pace picked up. Lando came in her mouth, deep, loud, moaning her name. Then Lewis climbed on the bed behind Oscar. "Move," he ordered.

Oscar pulled out, just long enough for Lewis to shove in, harder. She screamed again. Her whole body writhed, shaking violently.

Lewis grabbed her throat. "Breathe."

She gasped. Choked. Came again, ruined. Lewis didn't stop.

"Now you belong to all of us," he growled.

[cutielando]

jealous boy | charles leclerc

synopsis: in which Charles gets jealous of his new teammate

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: jealous!charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

The day had finally come.

Lewis Hamilton’s first official day as a Ferrari driver.

The news had rocked the motorsport world, and as someone who had grown up idolizing Lewis, you couldn’t help but be excited. Even though you were now dating Charles, Ferrari’s golden boy, the childhood fan in you was practically vibrating with anticipation.

You had always been a Lewis fan.

Posters of him covered your bedroom walls when you were younger, and you’d spent countless hours watching his races, celebrating his victories, and defending him in heated debates with your friends. He had been the reason you fell in love with Formula 1 in the first place.

So, seeing him finally don the iconic red suit felt surreal.

Charles, however, did not share your enthusiasm.

Well, at least not entirely.

You didn’t notice it at first.

You were too busy scrolling through social media, liking every post Ferrari had made about Lewis’ arrival, rewatching the welcome video they had put together, and even pulling up old clips of his greatest wins to reminisce.

It wasn’t until you let out an excited squeal that Charles, who had been sitting beside you on the couch, finally snapped.

“Okay, that’s enough”

You blinked, looking up from your phone to see him frowning at you.

“What?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion at his outburst.

“This,” he gestured toward your phone, “is enough”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, frowning slightly.

Charles huffed, crossing his arms over his chest like a toddler.

“You’ve been talking about Lewis all day. Watching videos, liking posts, and acting like he’s the best thing to ever happen to Ferrari”

You tilted your head, confused by his sudden shift in mood.

“Charles, you know I’ve been a Lewis fan forever. This is huge for me. For the sport. For Ferrari. What are you on about?"

“For you, huh. I don’t see you getting this excited over me” he emphasized, pouting slightly.

You laughed, reaching out to poke his cheek as you finally understood what he was so mad about.

“Charles, I literally go to every race to support you. I wear your merch. I wake up at ungodly hours to watch practice sessions. You're my boyfriend. Of course, I support you” you said.

“Doesn’t feel like it right now” he mumbled.

Your heart softened at the sight of his pout. Charles wasn’t usually the jealous type - not when it came to other drivers, at least.

But seeing you gush over someone who was now technically his teammate? That was different.

“Are you seriously jealous?” you teased, grinning.

“No” Charles said, scoffing at you.

“You totally are” you raised an eyebrow, enjoying teasing him.

“I am not jealous” he crossed his arms tighter, looking away. “I just don’t like hearing my girlfriend go on and on about another driver.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Charles, Lewis was my childhood hero. I can be excited about this and still love you, you know”

He sighed, finally meeting your gaze.

“I know. It’s just… he’s Lewis Hamilton. Seven-time world champion. One of the greatest of all time. And now he’s in my team, in my garage, and my girlfriend is acting like she’s about to faint every time she sees a new picture of him in Ferrari red.”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Charles, I promise you, no amount of childhood admiration can compare to how much I love you.”

He hesitated before finally melting into your embrace, resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Positive” you said, kissing the tip of his nose.

He sighed dramatically.

“Fine. But if I catch you wearing a Hamilton-Ferrari shirt before you wear mine, we’re breaking up” he said, his tone dead serious.

You gasped, pretending to be offended.

“Charles Leclerc, are you really making me choose?”

“Yes, and you better choose wisely" he smirked.

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You are ridiculous, you know that?" you asked, shaking your head at him, but smiling.

“And you are mine,” he murmured against your lips, tightening his arms around you. “No matter how much you love Lewis.”

“No one compares to you, Charles” you said, grinning.

“Good.” He smirked. “Now, let’s go get you a proper Ferrari shirt - with my number on it.”

And just like that, his jealousy was gone, replaced with the warm satisfaction of knowing that, no matter how much you had admired Lewis Hamilton growing up, your heart belonged to him.

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[tpwk-formula1]

2k Special - Pornstar Carlos

AN: I'm gonna be honest I have rewrote this so many times which is why I'm posting it today but I needed to make sure it was a good start to the new series! REQUESTS NOW OPEN FOR PORNSTAR! CARLOS

NOT PROOF READ

TW: slight edging talk, first orgasm, oral (f receiving), watching porn, unrealistic expectations

WC: 5.8K

Y/N POV

It’s late at night when I finally put my book down to head to bed. When I open Twitter to find one of my new friends from university had reposted a porn video I instantly swipe out of the app not expecting to see something so vulgar on my timeline. 

It’s not for another few minutes that curiosity gets the better of of me and I open the app back up to find a man I have never seen before sitting on a couch spread out jerking his hard cock off while he talks dirty. 

I feel a slight throb start to grow deep in my belly making me clench my thighs for looking for something but not quite sure what. 

“Touch you’re pussy for me,” the man groans through the camera in Spanish making my eyes grow wide and click onto his profile to see his name is Carlos and he is based here in Madrid. I take note that he has his own Onlyfans as well as being a partner with a porn company I had never heard of. 

For the next few nights when I was heading to bed I would open his Twitter and watch a few videos while playing with my pussy but when I can never quite reach a finish I end up giving up. 

It’s not for another month when another one of his videos pop up on my timeline but this time it was him buried deep into the pussy of another woman. It was almost instant that my fingers found my clit, and rubbing it trying to chase the orgasm I’ve never had. After a few minutes of nothing I finally give up.

It’s been a month since finding Carlos’s Twitter and I’ve seen ever single on of his videos he’s posted on here at least 3 times and when I still have yet to have my first orgasm even after feeling the tell tale signs. When I open the link to his Onlyfans I realize I only had to pay a little bit a month to get access to all of his content as well as private massages and live videos. 

When I pay for the subscription I am stunned to find Carlos already live. 

It’s clear he’s just getting started but none the less I open the live and see theres only a few other watching currently. 

As I read some of the comments I’m stunned by how bold some of the other people are but as the live continues on and my desperation grows I find myself commenting along with the other watchers. 

“Edge yourself for me” 

Is all I comment along with five euros. When the tip comes through Carlos smirks before slowing down his thrusting. 

“Just for you sweetheart”

Carlos replies back in English letting his accent shine through making me whimper at how smooth his voice is. For the next several minutes I watch as Carlos slowly edges his cock while letting a mix between Spanish and English dirty talk spill through his lips. 

I can feel my pussy soaking through my flimsy panties making me rub my thighs together to gain some stimulation without undressing completely. 

I watch several more minutes of Carlos’s live before he moves onto another subscribers comment which has me slightly disappointed yet I used the time to slip my hand into my sleep shorts letting my fingers lightly trace over the lips of my pussy before slipping my fingers into my folds finding myself completely soaked and ready. I lightly start playing with my clit moaning softly while still keeping an eye on the way Carlos is stroking his cock. 

As the live continues on for another 20 minutes Carlos’s voice drops into a slightly deeper tone making it clear he was getting close to cumming. I can feel my orgasm approaching and when he moans for us to “cum together” I can feel hitting the brink of my first orgasm before it slowly slips away leaving me frustrated while watching Carlos cum all over himself. I moan softly watching him paint his own body while listening to the harsh moans and grunts falling past his lips making me wish I was there making him feel good. Even if I truly has no idea what I was doing.

Carlos stuck around for a few more minutes on live before he said his goodbyes and ended the live. 

I quickly exited out of the app and turned over falling asleep once again sexually frustrated. I’m not sure why I can’t bring myself to finish but it’s becoming frustrating. 

When I wake up in the morning I turn over to see I have a notification from onlyfans which has me slightly confused but when I see Carlos’s name I’m brought back to last night when I impulsively subscribed to Carlos. I assume it was just letting me know he had posted a new video but when my eyes adjusted and I read it properly I see that he had sent me a private message. I instantly feel my stomach drop but I still open the message all to curious to see what such a man like him had to say to someone like me. 

“I sweet girl, I saw you are a new subscriber and a first time viewer of my live! I just wanted to say welcome and that I hope you enjoy the exclusive content. If you have any requests or questions you think I might be able to answer don’t be too shy, just reach out! I hope you have a beautiful day, or night depending on where you are located”

When I read the message I smile softly. He seems like a sweet guy. While I do find it a little strange that he decided to reach out I did think it was thoughtful to message each new subscribers. I quickly close out the app not replying back with anything. I get on with my day completely forgetting about my new dirty little secret. 

As the week passed I continued watching all of Carlos’s content while joining lives when I had the time. I had even bought a vibrator and while it was a bit too much for me to handle most of the time there was also times where it was all I could use to feel good. I had still yet to make myself cum which at this point feels like a complete joke. I had even made an appointment with my woman doctor to see if something was wrong with me.

That appointment is what lead me to this moment. Me staring at the private messages between Carlos and I. 

I stare at the now sent message asking Carlos if he possible add any advice on getting over the fear of cumming. 

“Hi I’m Y/N, and I’m really sorry this is by far the silliest thing I have ever done but I fear I am shit out of luck on any options. In the sweet little message you sent me several weeks back you mentioned asking any questions we may have and I have a weird one. So I’m in my early 20s and I have yet to experience an orgasm so I assumed something was wrong with me and my doctor informed me that nothing was physically wrong with me but I have some kind of fear of ‘letting go’ so I guess my question is do you have any advice on getting over it?”

I sat and kept rereading the stupidest thing I’ve ever done over and over again.

“I’m so sorry you don’t have to answer that. I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

After the second message is sent off I completely turned my phone off too embarrassed to 

even continue acknowledging this moment. I ended up completely my homework for the rest of the week before I finally walk back to my phone turning it on hoping on everything Carlos had chosen to ignore the silly message. 

When I realized there was no reply I let out a soft sigh before opening the Kindle app on my phone and reading before I got too tired which had me turning over and falling asleep for the night.

When I wake up the following morning I grab my phone and when I see the notification from Carlos my stomach instantly drops knowing he had seen the silly little message I bombarded him with. 

“Hi sweet girl! I’m sorry to hear about the little problem you’re struggling with. I’m happy you are healthy but I think the word of advice I have for you is, find someone you’re comfortable with. Sometimes for your first time it’s better with a person than alone. Sometimes it helps to have someone do the work so you can’t subconsciously slow down when you’re close. Also please never apologize it was not a silly question at all and I could see how you thought I would be able to help. I do have to ask and you can completely ignore if you feel I have overstepped but can you feel an orgasm approaching or does it just feel like pleasure that kind of leads nowhere?”

I sit there and I reread the message multiple times making sure this man really chose to keep the conversation going.

“Hi, yes I can feel the pleasure and I can also tell I’m approaching an orgasm but anytime I get to the edge it’s like I mentally run away from it”

I hit send not giving myself time to second guess my decision. When I got out of bed and continued getting ready for class I hear my phone ping but I ignore it assuming it was for one of my classes but 20 minutes later when I’m all showered I check to see Carlos was actually the reason my phone had ringed. 

“Ya, I definitely think you need to find a partner you are comfortable with who can help talk you through it or even bring you to it themselves. I have a feeling you’re not allowing yourself to fully relax and enjoy it. Not that I think I am someone who will be able to cum but I plan to go live in roughly 12 hours, if you’re available please join and I’ll give it my best shot”

I smile at the message softly. While I knew Carlos wasn’t gonna be able to make me cum tonight I thought it was sweet he wanted to try even if it was through a stream where plenty of other people would be watching. 

“I’ll be there tonight”

I reply back before getting back out of bed and finishing getting ready for class. The day felt like it continued to drag on far longer than normal. I have no idea if it’s because I had 3, 2 hour long classes or if it was because all I could think about was Carlos’s messages, leaving me slightly dampening my panties all throughout the day. 

By the time I got home I needed to take another shower wanting to clean myself of the sticky feeling between my thighs. I knew I had roughly two hours before Carlos was planning to go live so I spend that time busying myself with dinner and reading my book knowing I would probably be too exhausted to try and read it later in the evening when Carlos was done. 

When 9pm rolled around I get a notification letting me know Carlos has gone live. I instantly pick up my phone but slightly hesitate not wanting to feel so desperate about he situation but at this point, I/m far passed that. I mean for fucks sake I decided to privately message some random hot Spanish pronstar thinking he would be able to cure my weird issue. 

When I open the live I find Carlos sitting in his usual spot which must be some kind of office setup, but unlike normal instead of Carlos already stroking his cock he was sitting there in some grey sweats and a tightly fitted white tee making me clench my thighs together just by looking at him. 

“Good evening guys, or morning depending on where you are. Actually where is everyone watching from right now?” Carlos asks after a few seconds of silence. I hesitate answering the question finally I decide to just respond with Madrid. 

I see a small smirk cross Carlos’s face and while I doubt it had anything to do with me I can’t help but let the delusions creep in slightly. When I start hearing keys clicking on Carlos’s computer I can’t help but watch on slightly confused before I see a small chat box pop up.

“You didn’t tell me you were so close, I would’ve offered to fix your problem this morning after my run”

I see read the message and I can’t let the wide eyed expression I make. While I know he’s just doing his job and being flirty I can’t lie and say it isn’t working. 

“You never asked… but if I remember correctly I was promised an orgasm or my money back”

I reply back lightly teasing the entire situation. When I can tell Carlos’s eyes flicker to the message I can tell the moment he fully read it a small chuckle escapes his little mid sentence.

“Some of you guys have quite the sense of humor,” Carlos teases with his words making it seem like the chat itself was what had distracted him but him and I both knew the truth.

“I don’t seem to remember this promise however if I don’t make you cum tonight I will give you a year free on here”

When I read the message I smirk softly thinking about it. He is this confident he was gonna have me cumming for him that he was willing to lose money over it. 

“A bit cocky no?”

“I’m just confident”

Carlos has quickly replied before turning his full attention back to the live show where he spent the next few minutes telling us about his day before someone sent in a small tip with a comment saying to “take off your shirt please.”

Carlos gave a small smirk before saying “only cause you said please” before pushing his share back and standing up letting us see how low the sweats were truly sitting, before slowly starting to lift his shirt giving up a small strip tease before discarded his shirt somewhere else in the room. 

As the live continued I had eventually lost all my clothes leaving me soaked and naked with my phone in my left hand. I can feel my clit throbbing under my fingertips everytime I graze my clit. Carlos is now down to his boxers teasing his cock through the thin fabric. I can see his bulge is clearly there letting the rest of the viewers know he was just as turned on as the rest of us. Reading some of the comments I can’t help but feel a sense of jealous when I see some of the girls telling Carlos that they had already cum and he hadn’t even stroked his cock properly. I have yet to decide if I would rather have my problem or cumming too fast and missing the good parts. 

Either way I see Carlos’s smirk grow at a few of the comments while he tells it was time. Which had him slowly standing up before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his black briefs before slowly pulling them down making his hard cock slowly drag down before it quickly popped up revealing his hard uncut cock. I watch as he drops his briefs the rest of the way down his legs before gripping his cock and sitting back down in the chair. 

I watch as he slowly starts teasing his cock while starting to give some soft instructions for how we should be playing with our pussy. 

“Slowly run your fingers through your pussy,” Carlos says while staring firectly at the camera making it feel like he was talking directly to me. 

I follow each of his instructions and have even brought out the small vibe I had purchased trying to relax my body enough to allow myself to cum. I could tell Carlos was getting close to cumming by the way his breath was starting to grow faster and his stroking started to become a bit rougher but also he was needing to take more breaks trying to edge his cock as long as possible. 

“You close baby” 

I see Carlos send out a quick message to me making me smile softly knowing he was still thinking about me even though there was at least 100 different girls. 

“Yes”

Which isn’t a lie, I can feel myself on the edge of a big orgasm. When Carlos reads my message he instantly starts speeding his stroking up while giving us his signature count down.

“5… You have been such a good girl for me tonight,” Carlos counts making my pussy clench at his words.

“4… I know you’re close baby. Keep begging for it,” Carlos continued making me whimper softly at the teasing words knowing I was right on the edge of my first orgasm. I can feel my breathing pick up while I listen to Carlos’s grunts and moan start to grow louder.

“3… Just keep holding it a little longer baby. I promise it’s gonna feel so good,” Carlos teases while letting out a loud grunt while his thighs start to shake.

“2… Almost there baby!” Carlos encourages while letting out a shaky breath.

“1… Cum for my baby,” Carlos grunts out while jerking his cock at full speed before grunting loudly and starting to shoot his cum all while I rub my clit harder trying to jump over the edge I seem to be suck on.

Watching Carlos cum was one of the hottest things I’ve seen in awhile because for once watching his live I genuinely feel like it was all for me. I can feel my pussy clenching while also trying to relax enough to allow myself to cum. 

By the time Carlos was done spilling his cum all over his stomach and chest I can feel the once so intense pleasure slowly start to slowly away making me whine at the feeling.

“No! No! No!” I whisper shout to myself while rubbing my clit even harder trying to bring myself back to the edge. When I realize it’s a lost cause I turn off my vibrator and throw it across my bed in frustrations. 

I must have missed Carlos logging out for the night suring my small tantrum thrown in pure frustrations, because next thing I know I hear my phone ping making me look down to see Carlos had messaged me. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I’d love to say amazing but I now have a soaked pussy and nothing to show for it”

I reply back too frustrated to even care if I sounded pathetic.

“Sweet girl, you’re LYING!”

“No, I was there, I was so close I could taste it and then POOF it was gone. It slipped away so slowly it mocked me”

“I was being for real earlier, your subscription really will be on me. But also, you said Madrid? If I give you my number would you want to chat a bit? Maybe even go out sometime if you’d want.”

When I stare at his reply I can’t help but feel a hot feeling start to grow deep in my belly again. 

“I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more too! X (xxx) xxx-xxxx”

I send my number before setting my alarm for tomorrow and turning over to go to sleep when I hear my phone ping with a text notification. 

I grab my phone again hoping to see Carlos’s name and when I do I feel a soft smile spread across my face. 

When I open the message I see Carlos had sent me a selfie clearly in his luxurious bathroom more than likely getting ready to shower. 

“Hi!”

It was a simple message but with the selfie attached I can’t help but feel a small heat grow in my belly. I quickly turn on my side table lamp before getting myself all set up to send another selfie back. 

Given I hadn’t gotten dressed I pull my blankets over my chest before snapping a quick selfie hoping I looked good enough. 

The picture of me with a small pout on my face while my hair laid around my head making it look thicker than normal. I quickly sending it with a matching hello message. 

When my phone doesn’t notify me right away I assume Carlos was either showering or now going to bed himself but after 10 minutes of tossing and turning letting my mind race about what had happened tonight when my phone pings again. 

“God, you’re beautiful. I really can’t believe I wasn’t able to do it. A bit humbled in my abilities if I’m being honest.”

Carlos replies making my cheeks heat at the compliment before making a small giggle fall from my lips at the latter statement. 

“Thank you, you’re quite beautiful as well and given some of the comments, you have nothing to feel bad about. I really think something is just wrong with me.”

I reply back making me sign feeling like its all a lost cause at this point. 

“Nothings wrong with you. I really just think you need to find someone who is able to relax you enough for you to cum.”

“I mean probably but given that I’m in a completely new country surrounded by men I can barely communicate with due to being quite terrible with Spanish it makes it a bit difficult.”

“Let me take you out then. I can introduce you to some of my friends. Both women and men, I’m sure it can be quite lonely being somewhere you don’t know many people.”

I smile at Carlos’s reply but hesitate to take the offer not knowing if hanging out with the hot pornstar I found on Twitter a month or so ago would be such a good idea. But knowing I’m only young once I realize in order to live my life to the fullest I have to take chances. 

“I’d like that, just send me where to meet you guys and I’ll be there!”

“I can’t wait to meet you! When I finalize details I’ll send them your way.”

It all felt a bit insane and like the start of an insane movie, I guess time will only tell if its some insane romcom or a terrible horror movie where the stupid naive girl gets eaten alive by the serial killer and while I have deemed Carlos nice enough you truly never know. 

For the rest of the week Carlos and I continued to get to know each other and by the time Friday rolled around I felt comfortable enough to meet Carlos face to face for the first time. He had sent me the time and place to meet him at and had told me that we would then spend the next few hours bar hopping. 

When 10pm rolled around I ordered myself an Uber and waited for it to arrive. I took 2 quick shots knowing I needed to loosen up a little. When I feel the Tequila hit my stomach I notice my driver was pulling up which had me grabbing my purse and heading out the door. 

During the car ride I feel my nerves start to grow but I do my best to relax but my the time I see the first bar we were going to my hands were shaking slightly in nerves. I quickly hop out of the car and quickly scan my surrounding when my eyes spot Carlos talking in a small group of friends. He was wearing a fitted white tee and a pair of dark wash jeans and had yet to spot me. 

I slowly make my way over to the group and when I’m a few feet away Carlos looks up and spots me and as soon as we make eye contact his face lights up in a bright smile. 

“Guys, this is Y/N! This is my friend I wanted you guys to meet,” Carlos says making the small group of 5 people turn to look at me with smiles on their faces. Carlos quickly introduces me to all his friends before he pulls me in for a casual side hug. 

“You look gorgeous,” Carlos mumbled softly in my ear making me smile. 

“You clean up nicely,” I tease while placing a teasing hand on his chest before pulling away and walking with the group towards the entrance. 

When we get inside the busy bar Carlos quickly pulls me with him and his friends towards the bar where he ordered everyone a round of shots. I knew I was moving quickly on my shots but when a hot man buys you a drink, its okay to indulge. (Use this advice with your own caution)

I quickly take my shot with the group before Carlos is asking me what I’d like to drink. I tell him to surprise me and he just smiles before ordering 2 drinks. I’m not sure what he got me but when it arrives I can tell it’s something fruity. 

As the night continues the drinks keep coming and by the third bar we stopped in Carlos and I were both drunkenly stumbling over out feet. At some point we find ourselves in a dark corner of the bar staring at each other. 

“Come home with me tonight,” Carlos slurs making me smile but shake my head no.

“When we’re more sober,” I reply back making Carlos groan but nod his head in agreeance. 

We fall into a comfortable silence while just staring at each other for a few seconds before Carlos’s eyes flicker down to my lips making my cheeks heat. 

Carlos starts coming closer before he stops himself and asks, “Can I kiss you?” I nod my head which has Carlos closing the gap almost instantly and crashing his lips on mine making me whimper into the kiss before fully kissing him back. 

When Carlos pulls me closer by my waist I let out a small gasp making Carlos plunge his tongue into my mouth and tangling it with mine. I allow myself to relax into the kiss pulling Carlos even closer by his neck. 

When we finally pull away both Carlos and I are gasping for air while I notice his lips are slightly glossed over from our spit as well as swollen. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Carlos states while staring me directly in the eye. I feel my cheeks heat at the compliment but it has me standing on my tippy toes to steal another soft kiss from him. 

“Thank you! And thank you for tonight, I’ve been needing to get out and meet new people who aren’t in my classes,” I tell him with a soft smile making me smile back at me. 

“Thank you for coming tonight! I’m glad you had a good time,” Carlos tells me while guiding us towards the exit marking it the end of our night. 

“I’ll see you again soon yes?” I question hopefully.

“Yes, I’d like to take you to coffee sometime, just us,” Carlos says making me smile and nod. 

“I’d like that Carlos,” I tell him letting him pull me in for a hug.

“Let me pay for your ride home,” Carlos states making me shake my head but I can see him grabbing his phone out and handing it to me to put my address in.

“It’s okay Carlos, you’ve done more than enough for the night,” I try pushing his phoen away but when he insists I grab it and quickly type in my address and ordering myself the cheapest Uber. 

Carlos waits with me while the car is coming and when we see the black car pull up tot he curb Carlos quickly pulls me back in for another drunken kiss before opening the door to the car for me and letting me climb into the car.

Over the next week or so Carlos and I have been hanging out almost daily. Between coffee runs and dinners we have been able to build quite the friendship. Tonight was gonna be the first time I was going to his house for a movie night. While we haven’t explicitly agreed to do anything tonight I think there’s a mutual understanding that something could happen tonight. 

After we ate the take out Carlos and I find ourselves cuddled up on the couch throwing on a movie that looked good. Midway through the movie I feel Carlos’s hand resting on my thigh slowly start moving up making my breath hitch slightly.

When I look over to Carlos he’s already staring at me. 

“Is this okay?” Carlos asks softly making me blush and nod my head. I could already feel the heat in my lower belly start to build letting me know that Carlos was clearly turning me on. 

Several more minutes pass when I feel Carlos’s hand slowly moving up a little higher and when I feel his hand grazing the end of my shorts I can’t help the small whimper that falls from my lips when Carlos’s pinky sneaks into my shorts grazing the edge of my already wet panties. 

“More please,” I finally speak up making Carlos remove his hand entirely. Before I can protest Carlos is speaking up, “Take your shorts off.”

I waste no time standing up and pulling my shorts off and before I can sit back in my spot Carlos is pulling me into his lap so my back is resting against his chest. He grips my thighs and spreads my legs letting my legs rest on either side of his thighs exposing me to the room. 

“Is this okay?” Carlos whispers in my ear.

“Yes,” I reply back while grabbing his right hand and pulling it closer to where I want him. 

“Relax for me, just lay back and enjoy yourself,” Carlos tells me before he finally brings his fingers to the edge of my panties where he started teasing my pussy through the fabric of my panties. Feeling Carlos’s fingers grazing my pussy lips has me whimpering softly even just from the teasing I know I’m starting to soak through the fabric of my panties. 

“Fucking soaked for me already,” Carlos says before letting his fingers find my clit and giving it a teasing rub through my panties before he’s pulling them to the side and letting his fingers explore my soaked folds. 

“Fuck Carlos,” I moan loudly when he finds my clit and starts rubbing circles making my thighs start to shake slightly from the intense pleasure. 

“Does it feel good baby?” Carlos questions making me moan loudly while nodding my head. When I feel Carlos slip a finger into my soaked pussy I let out a shaky moan that quickly turns into a lous gasp when he starts teasing my G-spot. A spot I had yet to be able to find myself and Carlos was able to find it so quick. 

“More,” I gasp out when I feel myself starting to get closer to the edge. Carlos instantly sinks another finger deep into my pussy with using his thumb to teasing my clit. 

“Carlos, so good,” I moan loudly feeling myself growing closer and closer to the edge. 

Carlos speeds up his actions on my pussy making me throw my head back closing my eyes and moaning loudly. 

“You got this, cum for me,” Carlos whispers in my ear making me whimper loudly feeling my orgasm fastly approaching. 

“Fuck,” I start chanting while gasping for air feeling myself closer to the edge than ever before. But then all off the sudden I feel it starting to creep away and if I wanted to fake it, like normal Carlos doesn’t allow it because he senses the change making him speed up his fingers even faster making me moan loudly. 

“No! No. Noooo!” I whine because I feel it slowly creeping away even with Carlos’s skilled fingers. When he realizes its a lost cause he quickly stands up with me in his arms while he pulls me down the hall and into his room where he drops me down on the bed and instantly climbs between my legs and attaching his mouth to my clit making me whimper at the feeling.

“You’re not leaving until you fall apart for me,” Carlos says while looking me directly in the eye before attaching his mouth back to my clit as well as slipping two fingers deep into my pussy. It was clear he was moving quickly knowing I was still close to cumming if he worked hard enough.

“Feels so good,” I moan when I feel him start pumping his fingers directly into my G-spot.

Carlos not only had talented fingers but he also had a talented mouth because it didn’t take long for me to be on the edge again. This time I allowed my eyes to close and my hands to tangle into his hair relaxing my body as much as possible. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” I start moaning when I feel the edge fastly approaching and instead of it running away I feel myself falling over the edge leaving me to let out a loud scream at the intense pleasure. Carlos only speeds up his fingers throwing me into a second orgasm almost instantly. 

“Fuck, look at pretty you are when you cum for me,” Carlos says while detaching his mouth from my pussy but making sure to keep fucking my pussy through my second orgasm. 

I’m a bit dazed and overstimulated which has Carlos slipping his fingers from my pussy and walking towards the bathroom and when he came back he had a warm rag in his hand that he used to clean me down. 

“Thank you,” I whisper when he comes back into the room laying down with me. 

“No, thank you for trusting me,” Carlos says while pulling me into his chest making my thigh rub against his hard cock. When I look down Carlos just shakes his head.

“Tonight is for you, next time,” Carlos tells me making me smile softly knowing he planned for this to happen again.

“Was it everything you wanted?” Carlos teases in a sweet tone.

“Yes, far more intense than I thought it would be,” I admit making Carlos smile and nod before placing a soft kiss on my lips.

“Will you stay here tonight?” Carlos questions making me nod my head and sink further into his warm hold.

-------

Send in request if you want to see more of them!

[mrsfancyferrari]

Heavy Love

Summary: Carlos got a surgery of his appendix but that doesn't stop him from treating his girl how he usually does

Song: Heavy Love - Odetari

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 4.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The fluorescent lights of the hospital room hummed, a sterile symphony that did little to soothe the anxiety churning in your stomach.

Carlos lay in the bed, pale but smiling, a testament to the surgery that had sliced through his appendix just days ago. You sat beside him, a vigil, your hand hovering just above his, afraid to touch too hard.

"You okay, babe?" he asked, his voice a little weaker than usual, but with that familiar teasing glint in his eyes.

"Yeah, just... thinking," you replied, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Thinking about how much better you're going to feel when you're fully recovered."

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made you wince internally. "You think I don't feel good now? I've got you here, fussing over me like a mother hen. What could be better?"

You shot him a playful glare. "Don't get cute. You nearly died. A burst appendix is not a joke, Carlos."

"I know, I know," he conceded, his smile softening. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. "But I'm here, thanks to you. You got me to the hospital in time."

You squeezed his hand gently, relief washing over you. "I was so scared."

The days that followed were a blur of cautious optimism and tireless care. You transformed into his personal nurse, meticulously following the doctor's instructions, making sure he took his medication, and preparing bland, easily digestible meals.

You read to him, watched movies with him, and kept him company during the endless hours of boredom.

But a strange tension had settled between you, a quiet distance born out of your fear. You were so acutely aware of his fragile state, of the stitches holding his abdomen together, that you hesitated to be the same way you were before.

Intimacy, once a natural and joyous part of your relationship, now felt like walking on eggshells.

He noticed, of course. Carlos always noticed.

"You're being weird," he said one evening as you were settling him in for the night.

"Weird how?" you asked, avoiding his gaze as you adjusted his pillows.

"Like you're afraid to breathe too loud in case I shatter," he chuckled.

"Don't be silly," you mumbled, fiddling with the remote control.

"Come on, be honest. You're acting like I'm made of glass. I appreciate the care, I really do. But you're treating me like I'm some delicate porcelain doll."

You finally met his eyes, your own filled with a mixture of worry and guilt. "I just… I don't want to hurt you. You're still recovering. What if I accidentally put pressure on your stitches, or something?"

He sighed, reaching for your hand again. "You're not going to hurt me. I know you're being careful."

"But…" you started to protest.

"But nothing," he interrupted gently. "I miss you. I miss us. And I'm not talking about running a marathon or anything. I just miss being close."

Your heart ached at his words. You missed it too, more than you could say. You missed the way he would pull you into his arms, the warmth of his body against yours, the feeling of being completely and utterly safe.

But the fear was a powerful force, a constant reminder of his recent brush with mortality.

"I don't know, Carlos," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm just so afraid of doing something wrong."

He pulled you closer, his arm carefully encircling your waist. "Hey," he murmured, his voice soothing. "Look at me. I know you're scared. But I'm okay. I promise. And I trust you. I trust you to be careful."

He leaned in and kissed you softly, a chaste, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn't the passionate, all-consuming kisses you were used to, but it was enough to remind you of the deep connection you shared.

"Please," he whispered against your lips. "Don't let this surgery change everything between us."

Over the next few weeks, you started to relax, to trust yourself and trust Carlos. You still took precautions, of course. You avoided strenuous activities and made sure he didn't overexert himself. But you also allowed yourselves to rediscover the intimacy you had lost.

Slowly, tentatively, you began to rebuild the bridge that fear had threatened to destroy. You started with simple things – cuddling on the couch while watching movies, holding hands during walks, sharing gentle kisses.

You talked, really talked, about your fears and anxieties, and about the importance of physical touch in your relationship.

One evening, as you were preparing dinner, Carlos came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You stiffened slightly, your muscles tensing in anticipation.

"Relax," he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I just want to hold you."

You leaned back against him, letting his warmth seep into you. "Are you sure you're okay?" you asked, your voice still laced with concern.

He chuckled. "I'm fine. You're not going to break me by standing here."

You closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. "I love you," you whispered.

"I love you too," he replied, squeezing you tighter. "More than a functioning appendix can ever express."

You laughed, the sound lighter and more joyful than it had been in weeks.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

You smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached your eyes. "You don't have to ask."

He leaned in and kissed you, a slow, passionate kiss that deepened with each passing moment. You ran your fingers through his hair, relishing the feel of his body against yours.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, he looked at you with a hopeful expression. "Can we…?" he started, then hesitated. "Can we be… closer?"

You knew what he was asking. The fear was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, but it was no longer as overwhelming as it had been. You trusted him, and you trusted yourself.

"Yes," you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. "But we take it slow, okay? And if anything hurts, you tell me immediately."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with joy. "Deal."

"Wait until after dinner though," you muttered, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "I don't want to get distracted and burn the food."

Carlos pouted, his eyes drifting to the tray of hospital cuisine that had been delivered earlier. "But I hate this hospital food," he begged.

"Nope, you have to eat," you said firmly, placing a hand on his cheek. "Do it for me." You tried to make it sound like a playful dare, but the underlying concern was clear.

He groaned, his eyes drifting to the tray of hospital food that looked as appealing as a soggy cardboard box. "Come on," he whined. "You know how much I hate this stuff."

"I do," you said, your voice laced with amusement. "But it's part of the deal. You want to get better, right?"

With a dramatic sigh, he picked up his plastic fork and poked at the lifeless pile of food on his tray. "Fine," he grumbled, taking a tiny bite. "But you're going to pay for this later."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension between you momentarily easing. "How about I make you a deal?" you suggested. "If you eat all of this, I'll give you a little something extra to make it worth your while."

His eyes lit up. "What kind of extra?"

You leaned closer, your breath tickling his ear. "The kind of extra that involves me, you, and a lot of gentle touches."

He swallowed hard, the food suddenly seeming a bit more palatable. "Deal," he said, attacking the meal with renewed enthusiasm.

Each bite he took was a silent declaration of his love and desire for you, his stomach grumbling in protest but his resolve unwavering. You watched him with a smile, feeling a thrill of excitement building in your core.

As he worked his way through the meal, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the promise you had made. Your body grew warm with anticipation, and you felt the familiar ache between your legs.

You had missed this, the thrill of the chase, the delicious buildup to something so much more satisfying than any meal could ever be.

When the last bite was gone, he looked at you expectantly. "Well?"

You took a deep breath, your hand shaking slightly as you reached for the tray. "Alright, you win," you said, setting it aside. "But only because you ate all your food."

He grinned mischievously. "I'm not just playing for fun, you know," he murmured, his hand sliding down to your waist, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip.

You felt your cheeks flush as you turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

Carlos' grin grew wider, his eyes darkening with desire. "I mean, I've missed feeling your body against mine, your breath on my skin, your touch driving me wild."

His hand moved to your cheek, his thumb tracing your jawline. "I want you, all of you. But we're going to take it slow, just like you said."

Your heart raced as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. His movements were cautious, as if he was afraid to startle you or cause him any pain.

You melted into him, the gentle pressure of his mouth on yours sending waves of need crashing through your body. Your hands found his shoulders, holding him close, as you deepened the kiss.

"Carlos," you murmured against his mouth, your voice filled with a desperation that had been building for weeks.

He pulled back slightly, searching your eyes for any signs of doubt. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, your pulse pounding in your throat. "Yes. I need this. We need this."

He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes. "Okay, then. But…" he paused, his brow furrowing slightly. "We have to be careful. I don't want to rip my stitches."

You chuckled, relief flooding through you. "Believe me, I'm acutely aware of your stitches. We'll take it very, very slow."

He nodded, his eyes still filled with that hopeful look that made you want to do anything for him.

You moved closer, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose before trailing your lips down to the corner of his mouth, feeling the stubble of his unshaven cheek against your skin.

His eyes fluttered closed, a contented sigh escaping his lips as you continued to explore his face with gentle pecks.

"I've missed this," he whispered, his hand moving to the small of your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You nodded, feeling the same longing. "Me too."

Taking his hand in yours, you led him to the bedroom, the dim light of the hallway casting shadows that danced across the wall. The room was filled with the faint scent of his cologne, a comforting reminder of the life you shared before the surgery.

You helped him onto the bed, his weight shifting the mattress beneath you as he settled in, wincing slightly at the movement.

You took a moment to admire him, his strong frame now marred by the surgery scar that snaked under the bandages across his abdomen.

The sight of it brought back the fear of that night, the helplessness you felt as you watched the doctor's face grow grim with the news of his condition. But here he was, alive and with you, and that was all that mattered.

"Lay down," you instructed softly, your voice a gentle command that made him comply without question.

The bedroom was a sanctuary, a place where you had shared countless moments of passion before the surgery. Now, it was a battleground of nerves and anticipation. You approached him with the grace of a gazelle, each step measured and careful.

"I'm okay," he reassured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the air. "Really."

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the last few weeks slowly lifting from your shoulders. You straddled his legs, his hands coming up to rest gently on your thighs.

The fabric of your pajamas was the only barrier between his skin and yours, a barrier that was suddenly unbearable.

"Can I take these off?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"If you promise to be gentle," he said with a hint of a smirk.

You nodded, your fingers trembling slightly as you began to peel back the bandages. The stark white of the gauze was a stark contrast to the tanned skin of his stomach.

You took a moment to examine the neat line of his incision, the skin around it slightly pink and tender. You kissed it softly, feeling the warmth of his body under your lips.

"Careful," he warned, his eyes half-closed with pleasure.

You nodded, taking in the sight of his body before you. You had seen him naked countless times before, but this was different. There was a newfound respect, a newfound gentleness in the way you regarded his body now.

Each scar, each imperfection, was a testament to his strength and the life you had together.

You began to kiss him again, starting at his forehead, moving down to his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone. Each kiss was a declaration of your love and your care, a promise to be gentle, to cherish him.

Your mouth found the pulse at the base of his neck, his heartbeat a steady rhythm that matched yours. You felt his breathing quicken, his body responding to your touch.

He reached up, his hand cupping the back of your head as he guided your mouth back to his. His kisses grew more insistent, his tongue sliding against yours, a silent plea for more.

You felt your body come alive, the ache between your legs growing more intense.

As you kissed him, you felt his hand slide under the fabric of your shirt, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of your back. He groaned, the sound resonating through your body like a physical caress.

It was a sound that had always made you melt, a sound that had always meant he wanted more, needed more, and now it was back, a sweet reminder of the passion you shared.

You pulled away for a moment, looking into his eyes. "Are you okay?" you asked, the question almost redundant as the desire in his gaze was answer enough.

He groaned, not from pain but from pure need. "More than okay," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Encouraged by his response, you allowed his hands to roam, feeling the warmth of his palms as they glided over your skin.

They traced the contours of your body, exploring every curve and dip with a reverence that made you feel cherished, desired despite his weakened state. His thumbs grazed the sensitive skin of your ribcage, sending shivers up your spine.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours.

You blushed, feeling vulnerable and exposed. "You make me feel like it," you whispered.

As your kisses grew more fervent, you became acutely aware of your weight, the softness of your body that you had always loved, and sometimes loathed. You shifted slightly, trying to balance yourself so that you weren't putting too much pressure on his stitches.

The thought of causing him pain was unbearable, so you carefully placed your hands on his chest, using your arms to hold yourself up as you kissed him.

"Put all your weight on me," Carlos murmured, his eyes open and searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You bit your bottom lip, feeling the heat of his body beneath you. The urge to give in was strong, but the fear of causing him pain held you back. "I don't want to hurt you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

"Trust me, I've got you," he said, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. "I can handle it."

You took a deep breath and did as he asked, feeling the softness of your flesh pressing against the firmness of his abdomen. The sensation was strange at first, a mix of fear and excitement.

But as he kissed you harder, as his hands roamed over your back and his hips began to move slightly beneath you, the fear melted away, leaving only desire.

You felt the heat of his skin, the steady throb of his heart against your palms. His breaths grew quicker, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

The sensation was exquisite, a gentle reminder of the passion that had always burned between you. You could feel his erection growing, pressing against your center, but you held back, not wanting to push him too far, too fast.

"We can stop," you whispered, your voice laced with concern.

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. "No, please don't stop." His voice was thick with need, the words a desperate plea.

You leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss to remove your shirt, revealing your braless breasts to the cool air of the room. His eyes followed the movement, dark with desire.

You watched as his hand hovered over the fabric of your pajama pants, his knuckles brushing against the swollen bud of your clit. You gasped, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice a strained whisper.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words as his hand slipped under the waistband, his fingers finding your slick heat. He stroked you gently, his movements tentative and careful, as if he was worried that even the slightest touch would shatter you.

But as he grew more confident, his touch grew bolder, his thumb circling your clit as his fingers delved deeper.

Your hips began to rock against his hand, the pleasure building with each stroke. You moaned into his neck, your teeth grazing his skin, leaving a trail of kisses along his collarbone.

His breaths grew shallower, his hand moving faster as he matched the rhythm of your movements.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with amazement and hunger. "You're always so wet for me."

You felt your cheeks flush with heat at his words. "It's just… you make me feel so… alive."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your chest. "Good to know I still have that effect on you."

You leaned down to kiss him again, your tongues dancing together as your bodies grew more in sync. His other hand found your breast, his thumb brushing against the tightened peak of your nipple, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

As you reached down to undo the button of his pants, he stopped you, his hand covering yours. "Let me," he said, his voice strained with effort.

With trembling hands, he managed to open his fly, the sound of the zipper echoing in the quiet room. His erection sprang free, a testament to his desire.

You felt your own need growing, a warm ache that spread from your core to every part of your body. You reached out tentatively, wrapping your hand around his length, feeling the pulse of his blood beneath your fingertips.

"Careful," he warned, his voice tight with arousal.

You nodded, stroking him slowly, savoring the velvety feel of his skin against your palm. His eyes fell closed, his head tilting back into the pillow as he let out a low groan.

You watched him, memorizing the way his chest rose and fell, the way his abs tensed with each breath. You felt a strange mix of tenderness and hunger, a desire to both protect and claim him.

The sight of his scar, a stark reminder of his vulnerability, only served to fuel your passion.

As you worked your hand up and down his shaft, you leaned in to kiss him again, feeling his hips shift beneath you, urging you closer. The kiss grew deeper, his tongue sliding against yours in a silent demand for more.

Your body responded, arching into him, seeking the contact that you had been denied for so long.

"I need you," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, understanding the desperation in his words. You leaned back, sliding off his pants and boxers, exposing him fully to the cool air. His cock stood at attention, a silent plea for your touch.

You kissed your way down his body, your mouth worshipping every inch of his skin. Your breasts brushed against his thighs as you moved, sending waves of sensation through you.

Positioning yourself above him, you hovered, your pussy mere inches from his erection. His hands tightened on your thighs, urging you closer.

You paused, looking down at him, his eyes full of need. The weight of his gaze was almost too much to bear, but the fear was still there, whispering in the back of your mind.

"I'm okay," he assured you, his voice strained with want. "I need you, baby. I need to feel you."

You took a deep breath and allowed yourself to sink down, feeling the tip of his cock press against your opening. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt through your body.

You hesitated, waiting for any sign of pain from him. When he only moaned in pleasure, you began to lower yourself, inch by delicious inch.

His cock slid into you, filling you completely. You bit your bottom lip to stifle a moan, feeling a mix of pleasure and relief. It had been too long since you had felt this connection, too long since you had been this intimate.

His eyes never left yours, his expression one of pure adoration.

"Oh, Carlos," you murmured, his name a prayer on your lips.

He groaned, his hips lifting slightly to meet yours. You began to move, the rhythm slow and steady. Each movement was a declaration of your love, a gentle dance that you both knew so well.

You could feel his cock stretching you, the sensation of fullness that you had missed for weeks. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and valley with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.

You leaned back, sitting up straight as you rode him. The new angle allowed you to take him deeper, the feeling of him inside you making you dizzy with pleasure.

Your breasts bounced with each movement, the tips tightening with every stroke. His eyes never left you, drinking in the sight of your body, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs playing with your nipples.

The friction grew, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. The ache between your legs grew stronger, your body begging for release. You leaned back further, placing your hands on his thighs for support.

The new angle allowed you to grind against him, the pressure building with every move. You watched his face, the way his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth gritted with each thrust.

"Mi amor," he whispered, the Spanish endearment rolling off his tongue like a warm caress. His hand slid down to the small of your back, guiding you, urging you to move in a way that brought him the most pleasure.

You felt a warmth spread through your body, a gentle wave of passion that grew stronger with every beat of his heart. You knew he was holding back, trying not to let the pain of his recent surgery overwhelm him.

But you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with each movement. It was a dance you knew well, a delicate balance of pleasure and pain.

Leaning forward, you kissed him again, your mouths moving in a silent conversation of love and lust. His hands found their way to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he urged you faster.

Your breasts pressed against his chest, the friction of your bodies setting your nerves alight. The room felt like it was spinning, the only anchor the warmth of his cock inside you.

"Más," he murmured, the word a plea that sent your body into overdrive. You picked up the pace, your hips moving in a rhythm that was as natural as breathing.

His breath grew ragged, his grip on your hips tightening as you rode him. His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours. "Te amo," he said, the words a declaration that sent a shiver down your spine. "I love you."

You felt the orgasm build, a coil of pleasure that grew tighter with each stroke. You whispered the words back, the English translation feeling inadequate next to the Spanish. But you knew he understood, knew that your love was as deep and vast as the ocean.

His eyes searched yours, the depths of his love and desire reflecting in their dark pools. You felt his muscles tense beneath you, his cock swell even further inside you.

You knew he was close, could feel the tremor in his hands, the way his hips jerked with each movement.

"I'm going to come," he warned, his voice tight with restraint.

You nodded, feeling the same urgency building within you. Your walls tightened around him, the sensation of his impending release sending you hurtling towards your own climax. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you palpable.

You felt the muscles in his abdomen contract, a silent promise of the pleasure to come.

With a final, deep thrust, you felt him release inside you, his warmth filling you completely. Your own orgasm crashed over you, waves of pleasure that made your vision blur and your body quiver.

You collapsed onto him, your chest heaving as you both fought to catch your breath. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

The feel of his heart hammering against your cheek was a sweet symphony that only the two of you could understand.

"I love you," you murmured into his neck, feeling the sticky sweat on his skin.

"Te amo," he replied, his voice hoarse.

You remained still for a moment, basking in the afterglow, the fear of his fragility forgotten in the face of the overwhelming love you felt. But as your breathing slowed, the reality of his condition began to creep back in.

You lifted yourself off of him, careful not to cause any discomfort.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, your voice filled with concern.

He winced slightly as you moved, his hand coming to rest on the bandage across his stomach. "I'm okay," he assured you. "A little sore, but nothing I can't handle."

You kissed the spot gently, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric. "Thank you," you whispered. "For letting me… for being so patient."

He chuckled, the sound a little strained. "What can I say, I'm a trooper."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room dissipating like mist in the morning sun. "Yes, you are," you said, your eyes sparkling with affection.

The days that followed were a gentle reawakening of your love, a rediscovery of the passion that had always been there, simmering just beneath the surface. Each touch was a declaration of your care and desire, each kiss a promise that you would always be there for him.

One morning, you awoke to the feeling of his hand on your hip, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. You rolled over to face him, his eyes already open, watching you with a soft smile.

"Morning," he murmured, leaning in to kiss you.

You returned the kiss, feeling the warmth of his breath on your cheek. "Morning," you murmured back.

He shifted, his hand sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you closer. "Ready for round two?" he asked, his voice filled with mischief.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling despite yourself. "You're not going to let me have a break?" you said, feigning exasperation.

Carlos' grin widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "What? You don't want to?"

You playfully slapped his chest, unable to resist the flirty banter. "You're insatiable," you said, your voice filled with affection.

He chuckled, his grip tightening on your ass. "Only when it comes to you."

You felt a warm blush creep up your cheeks. "Well, if you promise to be gentle…"

"Always," he assured you, his voice a low, seductive rumble. . . .

[gr4cier4cie]

♡ bet you wanna love me now ♡ 3

or: something's changed between you and lewis since the accident, something neither of you is willing to explicitly name. that doesn't mean you don't feel it, and that certainly doesn't mean it's not there. fem!engineer!reader x lewis hamilton (arranged/political marriage au) pt 1, pt 2

warnings: none, lil angst, a lil fluff, THIS IS IT MY FRIENDS THE MOMENT YOU HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR I FINALLY GOT OFF MY ASS AND WROTE THIS!! mwah mwah mwah love you all thank you for waiting!!

♡

liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, alexandrasaintmleux, maxverstappen1, f1, scuderiaferrari, and 1,000,412 others

y/nhamilton back in the office!! thank you so much to everyone for all the sweet messages, i'll see you on the grid soon!! 💌

lewishamilton you take that teddy bear everywhere with you since i bought it (please tell me it's not my replacement) (♡ by author) └ y/nhamilton it's just an extension of you!!

yourbestfriend let it be known that lewishamilton texted me thirty times asking if you liked tea or coffee because he couldn't remember while you were recovering (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton I WAS WONDERING HOW HE KNEW THAT!! lewishamilton this is blasphemy why would you tell her

alexandrasaintmleux we've missed you my love!! ❤️ hugs and kisses from leo, charles, and i (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton i've missed you more!! (coffee after the race this weekend? please say yes) └ alexandrasaintmleux i'd never say no to that!! 💫

username37 OMG THE TEDDY BEAR IS THE CUTEST THING IVE EVER SEEN KILL ME NOW

username38 and the way lewis said he got it for her has me dead └ username39 he loves her your honor

username40 MAMA Y PAPA. MAMA Y PAPA.

username41 y/nhamilton did you name the teddy bear?! (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton his name is hammie ❤️ (as in hammertime)

♡

♡

♡

liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, alexandrasaintmleux, scuderiaferrari, username42, and 2,001,202 others

y/nhamilton went back to work -> took a break from work -> going back to work

lewishamilton when did you get that first picture of me? lewishamilton side note: you still owe me a hike (♡ by author) └ y/nhamilton 1. took it while you were laughing at my cooking skills (not cool) 2. NOT A CHANCE IN HELL KEEP DREAMING 💖

yourbestfriend JESUS IS THERE A CHANCE YOU'RE GETTING HOTTER AS YOU AGE (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton i mean its possible my husband's practically a dinosaur and look at him!! 💖

scuderiaferrari PLEASE COME BACK YOU TWO. PLEASE. I AM BEGGING YOU. (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton reporting for duty tommorow morning!! lewishamilton THIS WAS HER IDEA IT WAS NOT MINE └ y/nhamilton LEWIS!!

alexandrasaintmleux so beautiful you two xxx see you soon!! (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton my girl!! love you more than words can describe!! 💖

username42 okay who else is here after THAT thread on x went viral

username43 ME ME ME ME └ username44 i love these two but like... why is y/n proving the point rn she put pictures of her and lewis and got 2 mill likes IN LIKE TWO DAYS

username45 i mean y/n can't help it if she's likeable or famous she's her own person too lewis didn't get her degree for her lol

username46 i mean she CAN help it by not using him for clout maybe....

♡

♡

♡

[YOUTUBE: Lewis Hamilton Answers to the Internet]

♡

liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, scuderiaferrari, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, olliebearman, lando, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, georgerussell63, and 2,009,999 others

y/nhamilton 11.10.25. thought we'd go for a round two, sans the contract. i love you for real and for forever, lewishamilton. not even death can part us. not after what it took to get here.

comments on this post have been limited.

♡

note: AND THAT'S THE END OF THE BET YOU WANNA LOVE ME NOW UNIVERSE WHY AM I SAD!! thank you thank you thank you for bearing with me while i cranked this one out, i know the timeline's a little fast but when you know you know!!! mwah from gracie, always and forever!!! taglist: @mxdi0, @ashley-k, @mayax2o07, @1-of-my-many-obsessions, @sunny44, @widow-cevans, @1-queenofpotatoes-1, @dramaticpiratellamas, @quinquinquincy, @ihaveitprinteddout, @i-love-sirius-black7, @nic0-hischier, @isagrace22

[nottivagos]

there's something so hot about tying trophy partner!charles leclerc naked to a chair, with you towering over him fully clothed as he whines and whimpers below you like a pathetic bitch in heat.

listening to him blubber and complain about the fact that "it's too much" as his throbbing cock is stuck snugly inside a fleshlight, just begging for you to jerk him off and relieve him of his troubles there and then.

but no! instead you hold a vibrator against it inside, adding to charles's torment even more, as you just listen to the pathetic little noises that escape his pretty, swollen lips that he's been stupidly chewing and ruining by trying to muffle his moans and gasps whilst the vibrations from the vibrator cause his cock to throb even more, whilst becoming all too much for his stupid little brain :(

soon enough he'll be crying, pleading "please, please, please chéri! it's all too much!" whilst being at your mercy, shaking uncontrollably as you watch the sweat drip from his forehead, causing his normally beautiful brown hair to stick to his skin. his pupils will also be blown wide as his cheeks are painted with a burning crimson flush, his stomach tightening into knots as he tries to not orgasm there and then without being given permission to do so.

tears are now streaming down his face pathetically as he tries to muffle his pained whines again, dragging his plump bottom lip through his bottom teeth. he tries to avert his gaze from your piercing one as he just knows you're laughing at him, indulging happily in his turmoil, but fails as you grab his jaw, causing him to look at you with glassy eyes, mind hazy as the vibrations cause him to go stupid.

"come on charles," you coax sweetly as his body shakes and convulses uncontrollably with pleasure as he teeters on the brink of his release, "let me hear every single little thing that comes out of that dirty mouth of yours. don't hold back now, you're doing so well for me." and he's too far gone to even protest at that command!

as soon as those sultry words are mumbled, guttural moans start to escape his lips between gasps and whimpers, before he breathlessly begs, "please can i come? i'm so close, let me come, please!" and you just smirk, looking down at him through your lashes, answering with a simple and firm "no." that leaves him even more tense.

an annoyed whimper escapes his lips as he fights his awaiting orgasm like the good little puppy he is, despite it taking all of his might! it's enough to make your heart flutter at his compliance, as you know that his tip now being an angry shade of red and his salty pre-cum dripping out of the fleshlight down his shaft, making his inner thighs sticky like a messy little pup.

his head then tilts back as his jaw clenches, obviously not able to hold back any longer as his chiselled abs start to spasm and flex from how tense his body is, like a tightened coil ready to snap. you hum contently at his struggles, before pressing a little kiss of encouragement to his slick temple, brushing the hair out of his forehead as he basically gasps for air, with even those turning to breathless moans.

your lips then hover dangerously close to his ear as your clothed breasts press slightly into his face, one hand still holding the vibe onto the fleshlight as you then murmur into his ear, "you can come now, charles. you've been so good for me, holding on for so long. and good boys deserve to come, don't they?" and charles breathlessly replies with, "thank you, thank you, thank you, amour!" as he comes into the fleshlight almost instantly.

spurts of hot cum paint the inside of the toy, the sheer amount dripping down his twitching and throbbing shaft due to the intensity of his orgasm as he gutturally moans, riding out his high. after he calms down, you flick the vibrator off, putting it to the side as you then proceed to climb onto his lap, uncaring about the cum on his tip that'll ruin your own clothes, ready to smother your favourite subby boy in praises for being so compliant for you. <3

[lilghostiequinni]

Rude

Main Masterlist Charles Masterlist

Pairing: Verstappen!Girlfriend!female reader x Charles Leclerc

Warnings: Fluffy, None

Summary: Don't you just hate when your girlfriend loves your dogs more than you or when they take your spot in bed? Well, Charles does.

Requested: NO / yes

You met Charles through your twin brother when you were about 15 years old.

You didn't like going to your brother's kart races, but at the same time, you did like going to them, because when Max won races, it was like the world was right, nothing bad happened.

You didn't like it when Max lost because it meant something bad had happened.

It was conditioned into you from watching your brother for years that if Max failed, it was best to stay away from your dad for a few days to weeks or until Max won next, but sometimes even that wasn't good enough.

When you met Charles and you seen how his family and how family was supposed to work, you grew close to Charles.

For years, you avoided your feelings because you knew that your brother had become friends with the Monegasque and was close rivals on track.

You were afraid to say anything about how you felt because you were afraid of what your brother might say, who cares about everyone else, all you had in your life for the longest time was your brother.

You didn't want to disappoint him.

It wasn't until your brother literally locked you and Charles in a room within his apartment and refused to let you out that is until you confessed your feelings for each other.

It took all of an hour for the confession to happen and result in kissing, then turning into a full-on make-out until Max opened the door and interrupted but also saw one of his friends sucking face with his little sister.

About a year into your relationship with Charles, he asked you to move in, but you were hesitant because of the puppy you impulsively bought while Max and Charles were away for a race weekend.

Well, it was like three puppies, they were siblings, and the last three, you couldn't just leave them there.

They were Doberman, German Shepherd, and Husky mixes, and they were so cute.

When you told Max of your three little darlings, he laughed at you, then realized you weren't joking then he started laughing again, thinking of the reaction Charles would have.

Which, when you told him wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, but it could've been better.

But even after learning of your hellions, as Max started to call them after knowing them for an hour, Charles still insisted on moving in together.

Every time that Charles left for a race and you didn't go with him, the dogs took over his spot on the bed, laying with you as you slept, making sure that nothing happened to you.

When Charles had come home, for the first two nights he would have to fight off the dogs just to sleep.

So when he bought Leo, he thought that he would gain an ally against the other three, even if the two were still outnumbered, but no, that didn't happen.

The other three like to gain up on him, and Leo just joined in on the fun. It was not what Leo would just follow them he would actually help them.

Charles just gave up after a few months of trying to teach Leo to not help the other three dogs but he wasn't used to trying to, so he just gave up trying and let it happen most days.

Playing with the dogs most other times, it was actually really sweet what Charles did, playing with the hellions that you adopted without his knowledge, but even if he complains, he loves every minute of it because he's with you during them all.

A/N: Second in the 300 Follower Cele Driver poll

Tags: @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @ellen3101 @barcelonaloverf1life @charli123456789 @amz824 @taetae-armyyyyy @diaryofarandomkid @hadids-world

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[wu-does-art]

I fcking loved the sally face au where the gang knew each other since kids, please post more of this au (also, ur art is so cool!!)

:]

ask and you shall receive!

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem with OP Mage MC pt. 2

Right so... this is longer than i intended and more detailed than intended, i humbly ask for your forgiveness for this reading more like a fanfic one-shot 😭 Theres just so much you can do with this idea and i wanted to do the SF brothers justice, this is less anti-harem centric and more daily life of MC centric so do what you will with it - id love to hear some thoughts on this though, im genuinely considering writing a full blown fic abt this prompt and writing out ideas here helps convince me. Also watch me turn SF Sans into a closeted fangirl in real-time bc i CAN and i WISH TO and i WILL... tee hee 😍 HT for next part maybe? idk hdafejkkl

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Months passed since the new recruit arrived, and you had spent most of those months avoiding the household all together, not that any of them were in any hurry to seek you out. Actually - apart from passing glares and avoidant glances the skeletons had seemed to avoid you all together now, and it didn't take you long to realize that it was the newbies doing. It seems the brothers had already begun to switch all their official mage dealings with the newbie, and you overheard them one night speaking of how nice it'll be once you were gone. It hit you hard, the unbridled JOY that came from those words. The first smile in months had graced your expression, this annoying assignment would be done soon, and you didn't even have to look for a replacement. Of course there was a technical issue there, the recruit was weak, you doubted they could handle the responsibility, but you'd be damned if you had to be reassigned to the brothers again due to their own poor judgement. You set up barrier upon barrier on the furthest borders of the property, weaving old and powerful magic unseen by the untrained eye, as invisible as a spider thread in the deep dark of night.

The day came sooner than anticipated, a sunny morning wrapped in late spring dew when an official courier brought you the sealed reassignment papers, you wasted very little time. There were no goodbyes, nobody to see you off, no see you laters. You just packed your bags and left, deciding to celebrate your release from this mock hell with a feast of your own making. 

Days passed easily after that, your new assignment had been similar in that you were still expected to deal with monsterkind. As the official top ranking mage you were expected to oversee the immigration process of the newer species - finding them homes and determining the new borders, on paper that is - in actuality you were there in case it all went to shit. You were there to evaluate how big of a threat these newcomers were, and if all of it went down the drain, expectation fell to you to play both judge and executioner. It was all a terrible diplomatic hassle, endless meetings with diplomats and officials from both sides, meetings with the kings and queens, correspondence between the Archmage and the people on the ground, endless evaluations and negotiations. Where they lived, were they safe, were they able to integrate, political and financial concerns, provisions and temporary shelters were now your everyday cause for headache. It was there you met a pair of somewhat similar faces.

 Black and Mutt were skeletons, and that fact had not given you the best first impression - unbecoming of you perhaps, to judge a book by its cover, but months of threats and insults could change even the most unbiased of people. The two were a tad different from the others however, something you found curious if not a bit strange, they were… respectful, if not a bit stiff. Charged as part of the Royal Guard - they worked closely with the rulers of Mtt. Ebbot, so you saw them often escorting officials to and from meetings. You had no reason to approach them, coming from the other side as you were, you technically outranked them quite a bit in the merging hierarchy, but it was one stormy night that made you all grow quite a bit closer in an alarmingly short period of time.

A pack of fiends had snuck their way into one of the lesser guarded shelters outside of Mtt. Ebbott, cunning creatures that fed off of magic. They were hardly a threat alone, even an apprentice mage could take on two by themself - unfortunately due to that fact they tended to gather in numbers, the recorded largest amount was around forty if you remembered right, this however, this was beyond your imagination.

You should have predicted it,it was your miss, your meager miscalculation, of course they would be drawn here, a cave sealed off for centuries, brewing magic for centuries, a breeding ground for anything magic, broken for the first time in centuries. You responded quickly, but by the time you got there it was already chaos, the loud thrum of magic permeated the air and both monsters and humans were rushed off of the scene, the ground was bloodied, a sign that you were already late. You assessed the scene as you rushed past the terrified civilians, you would need to clean it up quickly. 

The resisting force had taken damage but they were holding, human and monster guards stationed at the furthest gate fighting off the onslaught of fangs and burning eyes. You took notice of the two skeletons fighting beyond the gate, they worked well together, soldiers of significant skill - you sped past them, an order to pull back immediately flew past your lips and you moved further into the swarm, Black had called after you but you tuned it out, as daunting as the situation seemed it was still below your paygrade.

It was a single spell, a light that lit up the sky, a deafening bang that rattled the ground and the job was done. Your hands stung from the forced speed of the cast, but you remained unscathed as you stood among the scattered ashes, burning flesh permeated the air. You sighed, the ever present mountain of paperwork on your desk was bound to double in size.

It was all damage control after that, rushed orders to your subordinates and rebinding of the barriers, but when you stepped past the gate once again to scout out the surrounding for any remaining threats is when the two skeleton guards approached you, they demanded to go with you- well the shorter one did anyway, it made your brows raise - there weren't many people left in the world that demanded things from you. You looked them both over, amusement in your eyes, and agreed, a challenge to keep up on your tongue.

After that things had slightly shifted, the skeletons greeted you upon meeting, saluted you upon leaving, you began to notice more monsters approach you with official papers or directives, it was an odd thing, mainly because you reflected on how joined it seemed all of a sudden. Before the attack you were mostly responsible for the human mages and soldiers on base, now it seemed your responsibilities grew their own legs and danced around the monsters as well. You saw more of the skeletons, Black in particular seemed curious, even though he never admitted it or outwardly showed it, it was subtle but you noticed, he often joined you for your nightly rounds even when not required to, it was a bit awkward at first, silent patrolling of the grounds, you had nothing to really speak about, and it seemed neither did he. You could not for the life of you figure out why he took such a sudden interest in your company but you also were curious how long he would keep it up, besides, having him accompany you seemed to put the other monsters at ease.It was on one of those rounds when you finally addressed him, he seemed surprised that you had, shoulders stiff, back straight as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Don't you have more important things to do?” You asked, the question seemed harsh, but its harshness dissipated by the lightness of your tone, echoed by the stone hall in the moonlit night. He had opened his mouth but it was a moment before he responded, seemingly not expecting conversation, he turned away clearing his throat as he set himself to rights.

“OF COURSE NOT, THE SECURITY OF THESE GROUNDS IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE. CONSIDERING THE DISASTER FROM TWO WEEKS AGO ITS MORE EFFICIENT TO DO IT MYSELF.” 

You hummed, continuing to walk, listening to the sharp sound of his footfalls a step behind you.

“Would it not be better to split up then?” You asked, your tone still light, your eyes observing him with a knowing glint.

“W-WELL YES, BUT FOUR EYES ARE BETTER THAN ONE, AND IT WILL SAVE TIME IF WE DO SPOT SOMETHING AND NEED A MESSENGER.”

And your guess proved right, his reasoning was weak at best, there was no need for both of you to do rounds together - you could clock a threat miles away even in the pitch black, and you knew for a fact that Black could handle himself well enough, and yet he seemed to want to be in your shadow all the same, you chuckled, but did not voice your thoughts. 

Your relationship seemed to steadily improve after that, every now and again you would walk the shelter grounds together, and every now and again you'd exchange conversation albeit a short one, but it beat the awkward silence that was there in the beginning.

Mutt was different, he didn't seem to hold as much intrigue towards you as his brother, he was more so there by default as he seemed to almost always stay by his brother's side, in fact the only time you saw either of them apart was when Black joined you in securing the premises. The taller brother was an enigma, you had not heard him speak once since your assignment, a part of you wondered if he even could. But he didn't seem outwardly volatile either, more so apathetic towards the goings on around him. That opinion switched one busy day where a scheduling error had made the three of you take an overnight shift guarding a group of pompous diplomats. It was a nightmare, twelve straight hours of listening to empty boasts and endless rants about the economy, even you had begun to space out, this was probably worse than those month long scouting missions in Siberia you were forced into back in training.

 You noticed the brothers were reaching their limit as well, you worried Black would leave indents in his skull with the force he was gritting his teeth and you were sure Mutt was half asleep as he wobbled on his feet, skull falling every odd minute or so. 

It was a couple hours later when you found out you were scheduled for two more babysitting sessions except they were both at the same time, and both had human and monster envoys, Black seemed to mirror your frustration as you checked and rechecked the schedule. 

One way or another you had organized a lower ranking mage qualified for escort duty to take your place for one of them, and Black had given his brother the order to attend the same one as you as he himself took the other, rushed words of “IT’LL BE QUICKER IF EACH OF US TAKES ONE.” after which you parted, the vote of confidence made you chuckle.

It was another four hours when you wondered if Mutt had passed away standing on his feet, he hadnt moved in a good hour or two, and skeletons didn't need to breathe so he remained deathly still. He stood behind the officials chair like a statue carved from marble, quite an unsettling sight considering the early hours of the morning and the sharp looming shadows casting off of him. The human envoys seemed to agree with you, considering the nervous glances being cast his way amidst the conversation, and you couldn't help but find the situation amusing. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the frustrations of your job but you decided to hurry the meeting along with a mischievous play of magic, lest you join Mutt in his nap. A moving shadow here, the caw of a crow there and what do you know, suddenly all business has been magically taken care of.

You had woken the looming skeleton with the good news and watched as he attempted to stifle a yawn, he had checked his phone and noted that his brother had not been graced with the same fortune as you. You had asked if he would wait - a nod, you offered your office - a moment of silence, but after a while, another nod.

It was another hour at your desk, finishing up some paperwork when you heard gentle snoring on your office couch, a comfy thing that had served you many times for a bed in the days where your job kept you from home, the sound made you blink slowly to the skeleton that occupied it.

Your own exhaustion made you zone out in thought, the sight had an enviable peacefulness to it, it's perhaps why you didn't notice the phone that fell with a quiet thump out of Mutts pocket. It vibrated, once, twice, then for a third time, screen lighting up repeatedly. You rose from your seat, bones popping as you sighed and made your way over, if it was Black then it was probably asking where Mutt was, you should wake him.

Is what you thought anyway, what ended up happening was you being trapped in an iron grip stuck to a dead asleep skeleton. It happened so quickly and out of nowhere that you didn't even have time to process it, the long hours awake didn't help either. One second you're reaching for his shoulder and the next you're halfway on top of said skeleton, limbs wound around limbs. You blanked, what even was this situation, you never took Mutt for a cuddler, his grip is crushing, impressive for someone with no muscle, wait hold on.

You attempted to pull away, but the answering growl and tightening hold let you know that the skeleton didn't agree with that choice of options, subconsciously or not. Waking him up seemed a thing that you should do, but the option flew right out of the door once you thought about how this would all register with him once he woke up, it was embarrassing really. You attempted once again to move off of him but he turned, and dragged you along with him further into the couch. Ah, you had made it worse. Couch cushions pressed in your back and a very large and a very asleep skeleton pressing you into his ribcage, it seems he intended to keep you for a body pillow, now what.

The door slammed open and you blanked once again, this was a nightmare, you prayed it wasn't some disgruntled diplomat come to complain to you about something. You attempted to lift your head to see but the grip on you made your back pop and you groaned, breath knocked out of you.

“MUTT! WHAT IN TORIEL'S NAME ARE YOU DOING GET OFF THIS INSTANT!! NOW YOU DOG! OFF!” The yelling was familiar and for a second you felt relief, and then dread all over again as vertigo hit you. In his panic he had rolled, rolled right off the couch and onto the cold hard ground and had taken you with him. You groaned again as you attempted to get your bearings, lifting your gaze only to be met with bright purple, you blinked and watched as slowly but surely confusion turned into realization and then straight into horror, the brightness of the flush on Mutt’s face was there for half a second before he was gone, disappearing into thin air. 

It took you a while to process the whole thing , even longer to reassure Black that it was an accident on his brother's part and that you were partly to blame for the situation as well. By the end of it all it was safe to say that you were exhausted, so you had locked up and went home, it was the morning after that you noticed that the lanky skeletons phone was still innocently laid on your carpet. You snorted, wondering whether or not the silent guard dog would come knocking on your door before late, or if it would be his ever principled brother in his stead.

[cheftsunoda]

I loved you dnf story 😊

Would you write one for Lewis Hamilton, where the reader is Charles friend and he is absolut smitten with her 😊

This would be lovely 😊

smitten—lh44

smau + blurbs

lewis hamilton x !leclerc best friend reader

charles leclerc x !best friend reader

yn and charles have been best friends since childhood— he would do absolutely anything for her and she would do the same for him. charles notices that yn has been extremely stressed recently as she is in her 3rd year of surgical residency and it hasn’t been easy on her— he needs a date to the f175 event and she needs a night out. what happens when yn meets charles’ new teammate who becomes infatuated with her?

fc : kendall jenner

(a/n) : thank u for the love anon. such a cute idea:) hope you enjoy!!

—

dr_yn_ln

london, england 📍

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1,205,007 others.

dr_yn_ln : ate charles up at his own event tonight and gonna be in the OR tomorrow. boss girl status

tagged : charles_leclerc

—

view 127,003 other comments.

charles_leclerc : remind me why i thought bringing you was a good idea

liked by dr_yn_ln

↳ dr_yn_ln : because you’re emotionally dependent on me and i’m hot and you needed some eye candy on your arm.

liked by arthur_leclerc

↳ charles_leclerc : you were supposed to support me not outshine me

↳ dr_yn_ln : i was doing both.

liked by charles_leclerc and arthur_leclerc

lando : charles was just your accessory for the night

liked by dr_yn_ln

↳ dr_yn_ln : yes except my chanel bag doesn’t bitch and complain as much as him

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carlossainz55 : the true smooth OPERATOR

liked by dr_yn_ln

↳ dr_yn_ln : love u chili 💙 will miss you this season

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leclerc_pascale : ma belle fille ❤️

liked by dr_yn_ln

↳ dr_yn_ln : je t’aime maman 🥺

username0 : this is the girl that charles was with last night? she’s a doctor?

username15 : she is charles’ childhood best friend— she is a surgical resident. so yes she is a doctor.

username0 : hm. they looked cute together

franciscagomes : forever confused if i want to date you or be you.

liked by dr_yn_ln

↳ dr_yn_ln : leave the frenchie and run away with me

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pierregasly : ynnnnn i know that you are a surgeon and save lives and do really cool things everyday but let me keep my girlfriend

liked by dr_yn_ln

↳ dr_yn_ln : no

lewishamilton : Very nice to meet you, beautiful. 🖤

liked by dr_yn_ln

↳ dr_yn_ln : best part of my night 🤍

liked by lewishamilton

username00 : OHHHHH oh

—

The zipper is stuck. Of course, it is. Because God has a sense of humor, and because Charles Leclerc has the upper body strength of a wet sock.

“Why is this dress built like a vault?” he grunts behind me, tugging again. My entire body jerks backward like I’ve just been possessed.

“Because it’s couture, not a jumpsuit from Zara,” I snap, bracing myself against the bathroom sink. “Can you please be gentler? That’s my spine, those are not exactly easy to fix by the way.”

Charles mutters something in French that I don’t catch, and I don’t want to, because I’m already trying not to laugh.

“This would be easier if we just stitched you into it,” he says, giving one final tug. The zipper finally gives in. “Voilà.”

I turn to face him. He’s already in his tuxedo, perfectly pressed and annoyingly smug. I swear the only thing keeping him humble is me.

“You look—ugh, whatever,” he says, making a face like looking at me is physically painful. “Hot. I guess.”

I grin. “Try not to cry about it.”

“I will cry about it,” he retorts, grabbing his cologne from the counter. “You’re going to make me look like your security guard.”

I grab my lipstick and lean over to check the mirror. “You’re lucky I’m even going. I have a 10 a.m. call at the hospital. The fact that I’m wearing heels tonight should qualify me for sainthood.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “Please. You’ve stitched arteries on no sleep. You’ll survive an event.”

“And yet I might not survive you,” I mutter, dodging him as he leans in dramatically for a selfie.

“Smile, YN. We’re going to look iconic.”

“You’re going to look like a proud boyfriend and confuse the entire internet again.”

“That’s half the fun.”

We snap a few photos — him doing the classic Charles smirk, me holding a champagne glass. He scrolls through them with a satisfied nod.

“Okay, ready?” he asks, offering me his arm like we’re in a rom-com.

“No,” I reply. “But my dress is tight enough that I can’t sit, so we might as well leave.”

Charles laughs, leading me toward the door. “You’re going to outshine me tonight, aren’t you?”

I smirk. “Charles, darling… that was never in question.”

—

I lose Charles approximately four minutes into the event. One second, he’s beside me, making some snide comment about the appetizers being too small, and the next, he’s whisked away by a publicist who definitely threatened him with a smile.

I hover near the edge of the venue, sipping champagne, trying not to think about the fact that I have to scrub in for surgery in less than twelve hours and my feet are already screaming. It’s fine. I look hot. That’s what counts.

“Long night ahead?”

The voice is low, warm, and British in a way that makes me blink twice. I turn slightly — and there he is. Lewis Hamilton. Oh. I don’t know what I expected — something glossier, maybe. Untouchable. But there’s something… quiet about him in person. Intentionally lowkey. Until he looks at you — and then it’s like the world zooms in.

“Only if you count a 10 a.m. surgical rotation as fun,” I reply, offering a wry smile.

His gaze drops briefly to my glass, then back to my face. “That explains the minimal champagne.”

“That and the fact that Charles will cry if I leave him at this party alone.”

Lewis huffs a laugh. “So you’re the infamous best friend.”

“In the flesh,” I say, tilting my head. “And you must be the new teammate. The one Charles was pretending not to be nervous about meeting.”

He smiles — all soft charm and good energy. “I wasn’t sure you were real. He talks about you like you’re some mythological figure. The perfect hybrid between chaos and competence.”

I snort. “Well, I am in heels, fully glam, and technically still on call. So he’s not entirely wrong.”

There’s a pause. He’s still looking at me — in that calm, deliberate way that feels… different. Not surface-level. Like he’s filing things away.

“Well,” he says after a beat, “chaos and competence suits you.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” I reply, raising a brow. “Though I’m still not sure if I like you yet.”

That makes him grin, something slightly crooked and entirely lethal.

“Challenge accepted, doctor.”

And just like that, Charles reappears — hair windblown, tie askew, muttering something about media interviews being invented by demons. He opens his mouth to speak, then stops. Looks at Lewis. Looks at me. Looks back at Lewis.

“Oh no,” Charles says dramatically. “I was gone for seven minutes.”

—

The party is dimming — not done, but definitely winding down. The lights are softer now. The photographers have mostly disappeared. People are half-drunk, laughing too loud, shoes quietly coming off under tables. Charles is deep in conversation across the room, talking animatedly with someone in Ferrari red. I slip away. No drama, no announcement — just a quiet exit toward the side hallway, where the noise drops off behind thick doors and everything feels… still. I find the terrace by instinct, the same way I find a break room at the hospital when I need five minutes to breathe. It’s empty, quiet, with city lights stretching out beneath the railing.

Except it’s not totally empty. Lewis is already out there. He’s leaning on the stone balustrade, one hand in the pocket of his suit, his bowtie untied and hanging loose around his collar. He turns slightly when I step outside. His smile is immediate. Soft. Familiar in a way I wasn’t expecting.

“Escaping?” he asks.

I shrug, walking to the edge. “Resetting.”

“Same,” he says, eyes back on the skyline. “Events are good… until they’re not.”

I laugh under my breath. “That’s exactly how I feel about 48-hour shifts.”

His gaze flicks over to me — curious. “You really love it, don’t you? Surgery.”

“Most days,” I say truthfully. “Some days it breaks you. But I think the best things always do, in a way.”

Lewis nods, quiet for a second. “Charles wasn’t exaggerating.”

“About what?”

“That you’re sharp as hell.”

That makes me smile. I tilt my head toward him. “Did he also mention that I’m usually the reason he’s late to things and that I once made him cry laughing during a press conference?”

“That part he did mention.”

We share a look, and it’s easy — the kind of ease that doesn’t feel forced. It settles into the air between us, warm and slow.

“Charles told me you’d hate this kind of event,” Lewis says after a beat. “Said he had to bribe you with food and the promise of no press.”

“I told him I’d only come if he let me insult him in public at least once,” I reply. “Which I did. Twice, actually.”

His laugh is low and genuine. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.”

“I was here first,” I say simply. “You’re just the shiny new teammate.”

“Mm,” he hums. “I’m not sure that’s the only reason you’re watching me like that.”

My stomach flips, and I blink. “I wasn’t—”

“You are now.”

He turns to face me fully, and suddenly the air feels different — heavier but not uncomfortable. His voice drops just slightly, not for effect, but like he’s being honest in a way not everyone gets.

“I like you,” he says. “I don’t know how else to say it. You walk into a room and the whole thing shifts.”

I swallow. “You’ve known me for like… an hour.”

“Yeah,” he says. “And I haven’t stopped thinking about you since minute ten.”

I look at him for a long moment — the kind of look that weighs the risk, the timing, the absolutely horrible idea this could be… and how much I don’t care.

“You’re not just saying that because I look like a Bond girl tonight?”

His smile tugs wider, slow and soft. “I think you’d be dangerous even in scrubs.”

I step closer, just slightly — the space between us narrowing, but not quite gone.

“You’re not what I expected,” I murmur.

He tilts his head. “Good or bad?”

“I don’t know yet,” I whisper, smiling. “Ask me again in the morning.”

Lewis leans in, but not fully — waiting, giving me the moment. So I close the distance. The kiss is slow — unhurried, thoughtful. Like we’re both aware this could change everything. And maybe we want it to. When we pull back, I stay close, forehead against his.

“You realize Charles is going to lose his mind, right?” I breathe.

“I’ll survive,” Lewis says quietly. “Will he?”

We both laugh — quietly, together — and in the distance, I hear someone call my name. Probably Charles, looking for me with a plate of dessert and twenty questions.

—

The hallway is quiet when I step out of the elevator, heels in one hand, the other gently smoothing out my dress that’s seen better hours. I slip the key card into the door, trying to be quiet—though the dramatic click of the lock disengaging kind of ruins that plan. I step in and immediately freeze. Charles is sitting on the edge of the bed. Not lounging. Not half-asleep. No.

He’s sitting upright, arms crossed, still fully dressed down to his cufflinks, like some kind of tired but deeply judgmental dad whose teenage daughter missed curfew. He says nothing at first. Just raises his brows.

I blink. “…Hi?”

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Oh my God,” I groan, dropping my heels and heading straight to my suitcase. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting,” he says. “Just sitting. Watching. Processing.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Because someone vanished halfway through the night and never came back. Then someone didn’t answer their phone. Then someone made me look like a concerned husband in front of team management when I asked if anyone had seen my best friend.”

I unzip my garment bag and pull out my travel sweats. “Well, someone was having a perfectly nice conversation with your teammate until it got very late.”

Charles inhales like he’s trying to center himself.

“Define nice,” he says finally.

I toss him a glance. “Charles.”

“I’m just asking,” he says, throwing his hands up. “Asking. In a nonjudgmental way. As your lifelong friend who also happens to know the man you were very clearly flirting with across the room for two hours—”

“Oh my God, shut up,” I mutter, grabbing my toiletry bag and heading for the bathroom. “Don’t go full protective brother on me. You literally invited me to this.”

“I invited you for a night out, not to elope with Lewis Hamilton,” he calls after me.

I shout back, “You’re being dramatic.”

He mutters something in French. I ignore it.

When I come back out, freshly changed and makeup wiped off, he’s still sitting there. I zip up my duffel bag and check the time.

4:38 AM.

The jet he arranged is wheels-up in just under two hours so I can get back to the hospital in time for rounds. No sleep for me. Again.

Charles watches me fuss with my charger cord for a moment before asking quietly, “So… are you okay?”

I stop, meeting his eyes. That’s the thing about Charles. Under all the teasing and fake-older-brother energy, he knows me too well. Knows when to joke, when to pry, and when to just… check in.

“I’m okay,” I say honestly. “It was just… nice. To not be a resident. Or a surgeon. Or anything else, for a few hours.”

He nods.

“Also,” I add as I grab my bag, “Lewis told me he wants to kiss me again when we aren't hiding from you.”

Charles makes a noise like he’s physically in pain.

“Goodnight, Charles,” I say sweetly, walking past him.

“Have a safe flight,” he groans, flopping backward onto the bed like a man defeated. “And if I see one headline, I’m telling your attending you flew to London while on call and made out with a 7 time world champ.”

“You’d have to prove it,” I smirk, blowing him a kiss before shutting the door behind me.

—

dr_yn_ln

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, arthur_leclerc & 1,708,443 others.

dr_yn_ln : i haven’t slept in 48 hours HELP

—

view 125,034 other comments.

lando : why do you still look this good on no sleep REF DO SOMETHING 🗣️

liked by dr_yn_ln

↳ dr_yn_ln : DO SOMETHING REF (me after i’m put on for another 4am surgery) (george when max comes near him)

liked by lando, maxverstappen1 and charles_leclerc

username0 : i can’t with her she is so fucking funny

arthur_leclerc : ynnnn remember how you said i can borrow the porsche

liked by dr_yn_ln

↳ dr_yn_ln : sadly yes i do recall

arthur_leclerc : 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

↳ dr_yn_ln : sigh. it is with me at the hospital. come get her. im having someone pick me up anyways.

arthur_leclerc : 🏃🏻

↳ dr_yn_ln : he’s a runner he’s a trackstar

liked by arthur_leclerc

charles_leclerc : WHO is coming to pick you up because i know it isn’t me

↳ dr_yn_ln : he gon run away when it gets hard

liked by arthur_leclerc

charles_leclerc : YN MN LN now.

username0 : her blatantly ignoring charles is taking me out

username15 : i wish her and charles would just date. they are so cute

↳ charles_leclerc : maman and arthur have been trying for years — it will never happen.

↳ dr_yn_ln : charles is hot but he annoys tf outta me

liked by charles_leclerc

arthur_leclerc : i literally gave a whole presentation on why you two would work. neither of you took it seriously. i had slides.

↳ dr_yn_ln : you had transitions and background music.

↳ charles_leclerc : he made us hold hands and look into each others eyes like it was couples therapy. i still have not recovered.

↳ arthur_leclerc : love is real and you two are cowards.

lilymhe : gorg and can save a life. lethal combo

liked by dr_yn_ln

lewishamilton : see you soon 🤍

liked by dr_yn_ln

—

There’s a very specific kind of exhaustion that hits after a 48-hour call shift — a dull throb behind the eyes, like my brain is trying to shut down completely but the rest of me is too wired on bad coffee and adrenaline to let it. So when I stumble out of the hospital’s staff entrance with my hair tied up, eyes puffy, and scrubs looking like they’ve been through a war zone, I am not prepared for what’s waiting by the curb. Arthur. Leaning dramatically against my Porsche like he owns it, wearing sunglasses even though it’s overcast, chewing gum like he’s in a teen romcom.

“Bonjour, Docteur Boss,” he says, arms crossed. “Did you save lives and break hearts today?”

“I’m too tired to punch you,” I mutter, handing him the keys. “So you’re lucky.”

He catches the keys midair.

“This is the coolest I’ve ever felt,” he says, sliding into the driver’s seat but leaving the door open. “I’m taking the roof down and playing French rap at full volume.”

"I will physically end you if you scratch it."

“You’re so violent for someone who takes oaths,” he says sweetly.

I groaned and rolled my eyes, trying to keep myself up right.

Arthur eyes me for a beat. “Soooooo…”

I crack one eye open. “No.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!”

“You were going to ask about Lewis.”

He gasps, scandalized. “I was—but now that you’ve brought him up, yes. Did he kiss you again? Is this a thing? Do I have to start emotionally preparing for you to date the GOAT?”

I give him a look. “Why are you acting like you’re about to walk me down the aisle?”

“I just think he’d be a great brother-in-law,” he says with a shrug. “Very respectful. Very cool. Good jawline.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I know,” he grins, then glances down the street. “Speaking of your soulmate…”

I turn, and sure enough, there he is. Lewis. Looking stupidly good in a hoodie and sweatpants like he didn’t just wake up early to pick me up after the longest shift of my life. Roscoe’s in the back seat of his car with his tongue out, already happy to see me. He spots me, smiles that slow, soft smile — the one that makes my tired bones ache in a completely different way — and gives a little wave. Arthur watches the whole thing unfold like he’s watching the finale of a romance drama.

“Tell him I said hi,” he says dreamily, already putting the car in drive.

“You’re being weird.”

“Tell him,” Arthur insists as he pulls off, windows down, blasting Aya Nakamura at full volume.

I shake my head and cross the sidewalk toward Lewis’s car. He gets out and meets me halfway, pulling me into a hug before I can say anything. His arms are warm and his hoodie smells like laundry and eucalyptus. I kind of melt into him.

“Hey, doc,” he murmurs into my hair. “Rough shift?”

“Brutal,” I sigh. “I think I forgot what sleep is.”

“I’ve got smoothies, your favorite protein bar, and Roscoe’s been practicing his ‘cheer up’ face.”

I pull back just enough to smile at him.

“You’re unreal.”

Lewis grins. “Get in the car. You’re done being a superhero for today.”

I nod, finally letting myself relax as he guides me into the passenger seat, like I didn’t just spend two days elbow-deep in someone’s abdomen. Roscoe licks my arm. I don’t even flinch. And as we pull away from the hospital, I text Arthur.

“he says hi, btw. now please don’t crash my car or play your sad boy shit in it.”

“no promises. also i already named it. she’s called La Baddie.”

—

The world feels a little floaty when I step out of the shower — the kind of tired that’s deeper than sleep, woven into my muscles and bones. My skin’s still damp, and my hair’s twisted into a bun on top of my head with a claw clip I nearly dropped into the toilet twice. Everything aches. But when I walk into Lewis’s bedroom, the lights are low and golden, the bed already turned down. My favorite show is queued up on the TV, paused at the opening screen. And there — neatly folded on the edge of the bed — is one of Lewis’s old t-shirts. Soft. Faded. Worn in all the best ways. I don’t even have to ask if it was for me. Of course it was. Roscoe lifts his head from his bed in the corner and gives me a sleepy tail wag, then goes back to snoring. I change slowly, my body stiff, and when I pull the t-shirt over my head, it falls mid-thigh and smells like Lewis. That clean, citrusy scent that always clings to his hoodies and pillows. I crawl into bed and instantly sigh into the pillows — it’s like sinking into a cloud. The door creaks softly a moment later.

Lewis walks in with a glass of water and my lip balm, because he knows I’ll forget both. He doesn’t say anything, just sets them down on the bedside table, pulls the covers up over me, and leans down to press a kiss to my temple.

“Come here,” I mumble sleepily, reaching for him.

He chuckles under his breath — low and warm — and climbs in beside me, one arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close until my head’s tucked under his chin and my legs are tangled with his. His fingers stroke slow, soothing lines down my back.

“You did good, sweetheart,” he whispers, like he knows I need to hear it.

I hum against his chest, eyelids already heavy. “Mmm… you’re warm. And big.”

Lewis laughs again, soft and quiet. “You’re delirious.”

“You love it,” I murmur, drifting.

“I do,” he says, no hesitation.

I fall asleep in his arms before the episode even starts. And for the first time in 48 hours, everything feels still.

—

I wake up slowly — the kind of slow where you don’t even realize you’ve opened your eyes until the sunlight starts to sting a little. The bed smells like eucalyptus and detergent, and the t-shirt I fell asleep in is soft against my skin, worn-in in the way only his clothes are. The first thing I notice? Silence. No pagers. No monitors. No trauma codes being yelled down a hallway. Just a low hum of music from the kitchen and the sound of a spatula hitting a pan. I stretch, bones cracking like an old house settling. Roscoe lifts his head from his bed near the door and wags his tail lazily, like he’s been up for hours but didn’t want to wake me. Bless that dog. The smell hits me next — pancakes, cinnamon, maybe… caramelized bananas?

I shuffle out of the bed in just Lewis’s oversized tee, feet cold on the hardwood as I pad toward the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. And there he is. Lewis, barefoot, shirtless, wearing gray sweatpants and an apron that says “Kiss the Chef” with a ridiculous grin on his face as he flips pancakes like he’s in a Michelin-star kitchen.

“Good morning, Doc,” he says without turning around.

“You’re unreal,” I mumble, slumping against the kitchen island. “Tell me I didn’t hallucinate this.”

“You didn’t. You did, however, sleep for fourteen hours.”

My jaw drops. “No.”

“Roscoe took shifts watching over you. I made him head of security.”

Roscoe woofs softly from his corner like he’s confirming his job title.

I blink blearily at Lewis as he plates two golden, perfect pancakes and tops them with a ridiculous amount of whipped cream. “Why are you like this?”

“Because you don’t know how to rest, so someone’s gotta teach you.”

He places the plate in front of me and slides a glass of fresh juice next to it.

I raise a suspicious eyebrow. “Are you fattening me up to make me take a nap again?”

“Not quite,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “I have a full spa day booked for us. At-home. Massages, facials, steam diffuser thingies. You’re not allowed to lift a finger.”

My eyes widen. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” He leans back on the counter, arms folded and smirking. “I even stocked the fridge with all your weird juice bar orders and bought that overpriced candle you cried over in London.”

“You remembered the candle?!”

Lewis shrugs like it’s nothing. “You looked like it meant a lot.”

I could cry again. I might cry again. Instead, I just stare at him, overwhelmed and speechless, and say the only thing that comes to mind.

“You’re my favorite person.”

“Good,” he says, tapping the plate. “Now eat your pancakes and prepare to be pampered. Doctor’s orders.”

—

I’m pretty sure Lewis missed his calling as a wellness guru. Because after breakfast, I’m wrapped in a plush robe that smells like lavender, sitting cross-legged on his couch with one of those fancy golden face masks on — the kind I always scroll past because they’re “too expensive” but still cry over when they’re sold out.

The lights are dimmed, there are no fewer than eleven candles lit, and there’s some soft R&B playing from his speaker. Roscoe is curled up nearby like a sleepy little bean, also living his best life.

“I’m going to fall asleep again,” I mumble through the mask as Lewis pads in from the kitchen with a tray of tea and fruit. “This is too much. You’ve created a nap trap.”

He grins and sets the tray down with practiced hands. “That’s the point. Recovery phase.”

“Recovery from what? Being alive?”

“Exactly. You’re under intensive care.”

I roll my eyes, but it’s hard to fight the smile tugging at my lips. Especially when he kneels in front of me and starts painting my nails — light, sheer pink. The kind I never wear because I don’t have time, and gloves make it pointless.

“Where did you even find this color?”

“You mentioned it once.”

I blink down at him. “I was ranting about how surgical gloves make manicures a waste of time.”

“And I remembered. Because you still looked really pretty while ranting.”

I pause. He doesn’t meet my eyes, too focused on making sure the polish doesn’t streak.

The silence buzzes for a second before I crack. “Okay, now you’re just trying to make me fall in love with you.”

He smirks — cocky, devastating, and so smug it makes me want to flick him in the forehead. “Is it working?”

I groan and flop back onto the couch. “It’s working too well, I need an emotional support dog.”

Roscoe lets out a soft snore. Useless. After the nails, there’s a massage. Lewis sets everything up in the guest room like he’s been doing this for years — soft towels, diffuser going, and the most relaxing playlist I’ve ever heard.

I lie face down and barely manage to mumble, “You’re taking this overachiever thing a little far,” before I completely melt into the table.

His hands are warm and skilled, pressing into all the right spots with practiced gentleness, careful around the tension in my shoulders. Somewhere between the lavender oil and his fingers stroking slow circles down my spine, I feel my eyes drift shut again. When I wake up, I’m tucked back into his bed, the candles are still burning low, and Lewis is curled around me — arms tight, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. And I think — if this is what rest feels like, maybe I could get used to it. Maybe I could get used to him.

—

By the time I’m slipping into the dress Lewis left hanging in the closet for me — a silky black number that fits too well for it to be a coincidence — I know something’s up. He hasn’t told me much about where we’re going. Just, “Wear something that makes you feel like the main character. I’ve got everything else.” When I walk out, he’s standing by the door in a crisp black suit, no tie, just enough cologne to make me dizzy. His eyes sweep over me slowly, like he wants to remember it.

“Damn,” he breathes, smile crooked. “You’re gonna ruin me tonight.”

“Big talk,” I tease, grabbing my clutch. “You haven’t even fed me yet.”

The drive is quiet. Peaceful. We don’t play music — we just exist in this calm little bubble, where the world feels too soft to touch us. He pulls into a private villa outside the city, the kind tucked behind high hedges with a single lantern-lit path winding toward a glass-walled restaurant overlooking a private garden. There are no other guests. Just a table set for two beneath a canopy of fairy lights. My stomach does a weird flip.

“I told them I wanted it quiet,” he says, hand on my lower back as he guides me forward. “Didn’t want to share you with the world tonight.”

I laugh, but it comes out softer than I expect. “You’re being weirdly romantic.”

He just shrugs, eyes not leaving mine. “Weird’s better than too late.”

Dinner is soft conversation and slow bites, the kind where you don’t even realize you’re smiling until your cheeks hurt. He watches me the whole time — not like I’m something to figure out, but like I’m something he already knows by heart. When dessert comes — a tiny chocolate something I barely touch — he reaches across the table and takes my hand.

“Can I say something?” he asks, voice lower now.

I nod, suddenly very aware of my heartbeat.

“I’ve liked you for a while.” He smiles a little. “But I didn’t want to be another thing pulling at your time. You already give so much of yourself to everything and everyone.”

I can’t speak. I just look at him, blinking, heart thudding like it’s trying to get out.

“But that night,” he goes on, thumb brushing my knuckles, “watching you talk with everyone, hearing you laugh like you hadn’t in weeks… I just knew. I didn’t want to be on the outside of your life anymore. I want in. All the way in.”

I finally manage a whisper. “Lewis…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says quickly. “I know you’ve got a million things pulling you in every direction. I just needed you to know where I stand.”

I squeeze his hand. “I’ve been standing in the same spot this whole time. Just didn’t know I was allowed to look your way.”

The tension breaks — just like that. He exhales, eyes crinkling as he leans across the table and presses a kiss to my hand.

“I’m looking,” he murmurs. “And I’m not looking away.”

—

f1gossipgirls

257,054 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Lewis Hamilton in love? Lewis has been seen out multiple days in a row with none other than Charles Leclerc’s childhood best friend, Dr. Yn Ln. The two were seen multiple times in Monaco, either shopping, having dinner together or leaving in his car. What do we think about this couple?

—

view 10,347 other comments. 

username00 : honestly i am down bc yn is the sweetest and she is a literal doctor. rather her than another random model.

username15 : i just know charles is STRESSED

username8 : poor arthur. he pulled out all the stops to try and get yn with charles only for her to end up with his teammate LMAO

username7 : this is so cute i am obsessed with these two

username5 : power couple

usenrame20 : @/arthur_leclerc how is charles??

↳ arthur_leclerc : he is…well. charles. 

username17 : she is exactly who i always wanted lewis to end up with. i think she is good for him. 

—

My phone buzzed across the nightstand just as I was settling into bed with a mug of coffee and a very ambitious plan to ignore the world for at least 30 minutes. I didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was. Only one person FaceTimed like a man on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

Charles Leclerc wants to FaceTime.

I picked up, sighing, and immediately winced as his face filled the screen—hair wild, hoodie halfway off, eyes wide with panic as he paced around his kitchen like he was prepping for trial.

“YN. Tell me that article is lying. Multiple dates? Leaving in his car?! WITH LEWIS?!”

“Hi, Charles,” I said flatly, sipping my coffee.

“Don’t ‘hi’ me. What is going on?! Why am I finding out through gossip pages that my best friend is starring in her own rom-com with my teammate?!”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“You were shopping. With. Lewis. Hamilton. And then dinner? And the paparazzi caught him opening your car door. Who even does that anymore?!”

I raised a brow. “Chivalry?”

“Conspiracy. That’s what it is,” Charles muttered. “And betrayal.”

I blinked. “You introduced us.”

“As friends! Not—whatever this is!” He gestured wildly. “I should’ve known when he started asking me what your favorite coffee order was. I thought he was being nice. He was plotting.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but then the screen glitched and suddenly a second face popped up beside Charles, looking far too pleased. Arthur.

“Oh no,” I groaned. “They’ve joined forces.”

“You knew and didn’t tell me?!” Arthur gasped. “Charles was spiraling and you just let him suffer? You’re evil.”

“You’re loving this.”

“I am,” Arthur grinned. “Honestly, I thought it’d happen sooner. Lewis looks at her like she hung the stars. And he brought her pastries last week—pastries, Charles. That’s endgame behavior.”

“He brought almond croissants from that place in Menton,” Charles said hollowly, like he’d just lost a war.

Arthur gasped again. “The ones with the flaky top and the powdered sugar?!”

“Yes.”

I blinked. “Do you two want to date him or—?”

“Don’t deflect!” Charles shouted. “You are not allowed to distract me with logic. I’ve known you since you had braces. I deserve a heads-up before my teammate starts making heart eyes at you in public.”

“I’ve seen your iCloud history, Charles,” I said sweetly. “We don’t owe each other anything.”

Arthur cackled.

“Okay, but seriously,” Charles said, softer now, “Is it real? You and Lewis?”

I paused, a little stunned by how quiet he sounded. “…It might be.”

He groaned and sank to the floor, off-screen. “I need a therapist.”

Arthur tilted his head with a chuckle.

“I want updates,” Charles added from the floor. “I want a full timeline. If I find out on Instagram that he’s kissed you, I’ll slash his tires in front of the FIA building.”

“Add me to the group chat,” Arthur said. “I wanna send memes.”

I shook my head and laughed, setting my mug down. “You two are ridiculous.”

Just then, the door creaked open and Lewis stepped inside, holding two takeaway bags and kicking off his shoes. His eyes landed on me—and then on my phone, where the brothers were still onscreen and very clearly squinting at him.

He blinked. “Do I… say hi or back out slowly?”

Arthur perked up. “Is that Lewis? Hey, lover boy.”

Charles sat up instantly. “Are those almond croissants?! You’re bribing her again?!”

Lewis gave me a long-suffering look. “Should I come back later?”

I grinned. “Nope. You’re in it now.”

Arthur leaned into the screen. “Lewis, welcome to the Leclerc interrogation. Please state your intentions and whether or not you believe you are boyfriend material.”

Lewis just smiled, leaned down to kiss the top of my head, and calmly replied, “Well, I did bring almond croissants again.”

Charles shrieked. Arthur cheered. And I took another sip of my coffee, already exhausted.

—

f1gossipgirls

325,074 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Dr. Yn Ln has been spotted in the paddock the last two days. There have been rumors swirling for months on whether she is currently dating Lewis Hamilton or not. She was seen in the Ferrari garage and then was seen with Susie Wolff and Lewis’ Ex Teammate, George Russell. She was seen with Lewis quite a few times during the weekend. We are still unsure at this time where these two stand.

—

view 53,098 other comments.

username00 : why was she with susie??

↳ username13 : her father is a huge investor and has known the wolff family for years. 

username00 : ah that makes sense

username15 : she is so beautiful it is unfair

username20 : they are def dating idc. i don’t want to hear anymore arguments.

username14 : they are ENDGAMEEEEE

username27 : i’m still not over her and george laughing like old friends and susie hugging her. this woman is networking on an elite level.

username16 : imagine dating lewis hamilton, being charles leclerc’s best friend, AND looking like that??? it should be illegal to be this powerful.

username22 : y’all notice how lewis magically appears every time she’s spotted? this is the most consistent thing we’ve seen from him since 2021 😭

username30 : she’s in her surgical residency and still had time to serve looks and cause grid-wide chaos? she’s not real. —

twitter!

@/scuderiaferrari : Best Friend Vs Boyfriend with Dr. YN and our drivers out now! 

Link below! 🏎️

—

The moment I walked into the Ferrari media room and saw both Charles and Lewis already sitting in front of two whiteboards with markers in hand, I knew I had made a grave mistake.

“You said this was just a fun interview,” I hissed at the poor media girl who had tricked me into this.

“It is!” she chirped. “Fun! Cute! Viral content!”

Charles was already grinning like he knew he was about to embarrass me publicly. “I’m so ready for this. I raised her. This man,” he pointed at Lewis dramatically, “has no idea what he’s in for.”

Lewis looked calm, borderline smug. “I literally spent forty-five minutes organizing her fridge last night because I knew it would make you feel better after her shift. I’m good.”

“I taught her how to ride a bike,” Charles countered, puffing his chest.

I sighed and dropped into the seat between them. “You also told me gum would stay in my stomach for seven years and convinced me to eat dirt because it would ‘build immunity.’”

“That sounds like a Charles thing,” Lewis agreed, smirking.

Charles looked offended. “It was organic dirt.”

"All dirt is organic, Cha."

I was starting to regret everything.

“Okay!” the producer called cheerily. “Let’s begin! Who knows YN best- her lifelong best friend or her seven-time world champion boyfriend?”

Lewis raised his brows at me like, No pressure, and I just gave the camera my best deadpan stare. It’s been 48 hours since I slept properly and I was about to moderate a public quiz about my own life.

What’s YN’s go-to comfort food after a long shift?

Lewis wrote immediately. Charles squinted like he was doing quantum mechanics.

“Three… two… one!”

They flipped their boards.

Lewis: Peanut butter toast with banana and honey.

Charles: Pizza. Always.

I blinked. “Okay, technically, Charles is right if I’m in a spiral. But Lewis is right if I’m functioning like a real adult.”

“Half point each?” the producer asked.

“No,” Charles said dramatically. “I am her day-one. I knew about the pizza thing since she was twelve.”

“Her metabolism thanks me,” Lewis said, giving him a dry smile.

I groaned. “Next question!”

What is YN’s irrational fear?

Charles was cackling before the question even finished. Lewis looked thoughtful.

“Three, two, one.”

Lewis: Getting stuck in a lift with strangers.

Charles: Fish with human-like teeth.

“Charles!” I yelped, smacking his arm. “I told you that in confidence!”

Lewis leaned over to look at his board. “That… that is terrifying, actually.”

“She sent me an article about it at 2am once,” Charles said. “She couldn’t sleep after seeing a picture on Twitter.”

“I was vulnerable.”

What’s YN’s guilty pleasure TV show?

Charles was scribbling so hard the marker squeaked. Lewis tapped his marker dramatically before flipping his board.

Charles: Selling Sunset.

Lewis: Selling Sunset. (She pretends she hates it.)

I covered my face. “I do not—okay, I do. But only for the outfits and chaos.”

“They’ve watched entire seasons together,” Charles whispered to the camera, as if reporting from the front lines. “She quotes Christine.”

“Only ironically!” I defended.

Lewis gave the camera a side glance. “She also paused one episode to explain the psychology of twin dynamics using the Oppenheim brothers as examples.”

Charles burst out laughing.

What’s YN’s biggest pet peeve?

“Oh, I know this,” Lewis said confidently.

Charles just stared at me, then slowly started writing. “If this is wrong, I’m sorry in advance.”

They flipped.

Lewis: People talking over others in group conversations.

Charles: When people interrupt her while she’s diagnosing herself on WebMD.

I let out a snort.

“She once made a PowerPoint about how she thought she had scurvy,” Charles said fondly. “All because she didn’t eat fruit for like two days.”

Lewis looked at me. “That’s concerning but also… weirdly on brand.”

The camera stopped rolling after a final round of chaotic banter, Charles pouting over his technical win because he got more questions right, while Lewis was busy feeding me strawberries from the snack table.

“You two are insufferable,” I told them.

Charles threw an arm around my shoulders. “You’re lucky we love you.”

Lewis smiled, stepping beside me and slipping a hand around my waist. “Very lucky.”

I leaned back against both of them, overwhelmed in that stupidly warm, quiet way I always get around the people who know me best. Yeah, I was lucky. Wildly, unbelievably lucky. Even if they did both remember the fish thing.

—

lewishamilton

liked by dr_yn_ln, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 & 5,090,001 others.

lewishamilton : got a new teammate and found my soulmate in the same season.

tagged : dr_yn_ln

—

dr_yn_ln : charles and i are sadly a package deal. in many ways

liked by charles_leclerc and lewishamilton

↳ charles_leclerc : i don't go anywhere without my emotional support yn

liked by dr_yn_ln and lewishamilton

↳ lewishamilton : i am learning that.

arthur_leclerc : yn is a leclerc - basically. she knows all of our secrets.

liked by dr_yn_ln and lewishamilton

lando : woah woah woah. if i knew yn was not off limits i would've made moves years ago.

↳ charles_leclerc : she was never not off limits. especially for you.

lando : oh well. happy for you guys! i too would pick lewis hamilton over me.

liked by dr_yn_ln and lewishamilton

georgerussell63 : you old softie

liked by dr_yn_ln and lewishamilton

—

[formulafanfics13]

Charles!Boobs guy x Gf who wears a white tank top with no bra under it and moves like crazy, completely oblivious. They’re hanging with their friends at first, so Charles tries to restrain himself, but the gf sees something is “wrong” w him though she deadass has no idea why. When they’re finally alone charles snaps, and she’s finally like ..Oh. Full on worshipping 🍒🍒🍒

White Tank Confessions - CL16 🔥

masterlist

Summary Wearing a braless white tank top in Monaco heat, you unknowingly drive Charles insane with lust in front of all his friends. The second you’re alone, he snaps — completely overwhelmed by how turned on he is and how unaware you are of your effect on him. What follows is desperate, possessive, feral sex against the wall, with Charles praising, worshipping, and claiming every inch of you like he’s starving.

Warnings public teasing, accidental exhibitionism, possessive jealousy, oral sex (f receiving), aggressive praise kink, clothing kink (braless tank top), dominance, territorial behaviour, mild overstimulation, dirty talk, power shift, wall sex, Charles going feral over boobs.

You had no idea what you were doing to him.

None. Zilch. Absolutely fucking oblivious.

It was hot out. 

Monaco summer heat, sun sharp in the sky and the kind of dry warmth that made clothes feel suffocating. So you threw on a white ribbed tank top, one of the thinner ones, the kind that dipped low under the arms and clung to your body in all the ways that made it feel like you were barely wearing anything. You didn’t bother with a bra. You never did when it was this hot. Charles didn’t usually mind. Charles loved when you skipped the bra.

But now? Now, you were actively torturing him.

Because not only were you braless in a tissue-thin white tank top with no regard for how easily the sun caught on your nipples, how the fabric stuck to your chest with every shift, or how every bounce, stretch, twist, and laugh made your tits jiggle in ways that were driving him fucking insane, you were doing it in front of all his friends.

The whole crew was gathered at Lando’s penthouse balcony. Loud music. Bottles of rosé and San Pellegrino clinking in ice buckets. Max was lounging in swim shorts with sunglasses perched on his forehead, sunglasses he hadn’t moved in thirty minutes because he was too busy sneaking glances at you and trying not to get caught. Pierre was sprawled across the beanbag near the glass doors, laughing at something Lily said. And you were in the middle of it all, flitting around barefoot and glowing, talking to everyone, swirling a glass of pink wine and gesturing wildly with your hands, your body moving without a care in the fucking world.

Charles was going to combust.

He was sitting on the edge of the outdoor couch, jaw locked, hands clenched so tightly on his thighs he could feel his own fingerprints. He hadn’t spoken in ten minutes. Not since you leaned over to grab a strawberry from the fruit tray and your tits fucking swung like they were trying to kill him. 

Not since he realised Max had noticed too. Not since Pierre fucking choked on his water when you lifted your arms to stretch and your tank top slid halfway up your ribs.

You were killing him and you didn’t even know it.

You bounded over a few minutes later, sitting on the arm of the couch beside him, warm and happy and glowing like you didn’t just have every man on this balcony shifting in their seats. “Why’re you so quiet, baby?” you asked, nudging him with your elbow.

Charles just grunted. He couldn’t look at you. He didn’t dare.

“You okay?” you asked again, concern softening your voice. “You look kind of…tense.”

Tense? TENSE? He was vibrating. He was holding onto reality with a single thread and that thread was about to snap the second you moved again.

He swallowed. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

You frowned, still not catching on. You reached for his shoulder, smoothing your hand across it, thumb brushing up the nape of his neck. His whole body flinched.

“God, you’re sweating,” you said, lips pursed.

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. He just stood up a little too fast, mumbled something about getting water, and practically bolted into the penthouse.

You followed, confused and concerned, padding after him. “Charles—”

The second the door shut behind you, everything exploded.

He spun around so fast you almost collided. “Take it off.”

You blinked. “Wait-what?”

“The shirt. Now. Off.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Charles, what the fuck?”

“Now.”

You just stared at him, stunned and pink-cheeked and completely thrown. He looked fucking wild, eyes black, jaw tight, breath heavy like he’d just finished qualifying. You’d never seen him like this. Not this feral. Not this undone.

You looked down at yourself, finally seeing what he saw. The sweat. The clingy white cotton. The outline of your nipples like they were fucking lit up for him. The dip of your breasts with every breath.

“Oh.” It hit you all at once. “Oh.”

Charles surged forward, hands already fisting in the hem of your top. “You’re fucking cruel,” he growled, dragging it over your head. “You don’t even know what you’re doing, walking around like that-like that-in front of everyone.”

“I didn’t-Charles, I didn’t know, I swear-”

“You never fucking do.” His hands slid down your sides, hungry and fast, finding your hips and pressing bruises there. “You think it’s normal to walk around with your tits bouncing like that? You think I didn’t notice Max nearly breaking his sunglasses trying not to look? Pierre literally coughed. I was going to fucking kill them.”

You were breathless. Giddy. A little drunk from the rosé, a little tipsy from the way he was looking at you like you were the last drop of water on Earth. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I am not exaggerating,” he growled, lips crashing against your neck, biting just hard enough to make you squeak. “You are mine. Those are mine.”

“Charles-”

He kissed down your chest, dragging his mouth across the swell of your breasts, open-mouthed, worshipping, desperate. “Mine,” he whispered again, hands pushing you back until your spine hit the wall. “Mine, mine, mine.”

You gasped, breath catching when he licked over one nipple, sucking it into his mouth with a low moan that vibrated through your whole body. He kissed it like it was sacred. Bitten, then soothed, then kissed again. Then he moved to the other, giving it the same attention, flicking his tongue and groaning like he was starving.

You grabbed at his hair. “You’re obsessed.”

He pulled back, eyes glittering. “Of fucking course I am. Have you seen yourself?”

“I didn’t think-”

“You never do,” he said again, voice cracking on it. “That’s the worst part. You walk around like you don’t know. Laughing, moving, bouncing-fuck, baby, you were bouncing—”

You whimpered when he sank to his knees. Hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. Dragged them down slow.

“You’re lucky I didn’t fuck you on that balcony in front of all of them,” he said. “You’re lucky I even made it inside.”

And then he buried his face between your legs.

You didn’t stand a chance. Not with the way he licked, slow and thorough, arms locked around your thighs like he was holding you in place. Not with the way he moaned every time you clenched around nothing. Not with the way he fucking praised you while you came, his voice a reverent whisper: perfect girl, sweet girl, my girl.

You collapsed against the wall, shaking.

And Charles, still kneeling, still flushed, looked up at you like he’d found religion. “I should buy you more white tops,” he said hoarsely. “No bras. Ever.”

You blinked. Laughed. Tugged him up and kissed him. “Only if you promise to lose your mind every single time.”

“Deal.”

And that’s how you realised Charles Leclerc wasn’t just a boobs guy.

He was your boobs guy. Forever.

[cutielando]

miss possessive | charles leclerc

synopsis: in which you don't even realize how possessive you can get over your handsome boyfriend

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: charles leclerc x jealous!reader

my masterlist

You weren’t jealous.

You weren’t.

It was just an observation, that’s all.

You sat at a table inside the Ferrari motorhome, absentmindedly stirring the ice in your drink with a straw as your eyes locked onto her.

Léa Bisset. The journalist.

The one who always seemed to hover around Charles just a little too much whenever she was in the paddock.

She was standing close—too close—to Charles, laughing at something he’d said. You rolled your eyes, watching as she tilted her head back dramatically, placing a hand on his forearm as she laughed.

God. Did she have to touch him?

You inhaled sharply through your nose, trying to focus on literally anything else, but Pierre’s knowing chuckle from across the table made your annoyance spike.

“You’re glaring” Pierre pointed out, sipping his espresso like this was his favorite form of entertainment.

“I am not” you denied, not taking your eyes off of Charles and her.

“You are,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “And you’re jealous.”

You scoffed, shaking your head disapprovingly.

“I am not jealous, Pierre”

He smirked. “Then why do you look like you’re about to go over there and tackle Léa to the ground?”

“I just don’t like her,” you muttered, turning back to your drink. “She’s always acting like Charles belongs to her.”

Pierre hummed, clearly unconvinced.

“You do realize Charles loves you, right? He barely notices her.”

“He’s noticing her now, isn't he?” you asked, clicking your tongue as you motioned towards where your boyfriend was still talking to that complete and total bitch.

Pierre exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.

“You should go over there. Mark your territory" he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes at his choice of words, but the idea of interrupting their little moment was suddenly too tempting to resist.

It was not in your nature to be acting like this, getting jealous over women talking to Charles, but she was pushing your buttons more than you cared to admit and more than any other female that had ever approached your boyfriend.

You stood abruptly, smoothing out your Ferrari team shirt with Charles' last name and number on your back, before striding across the room. Pierre let out a low whistle behind you, but you ignored him, not wanting to let anything change your mind from what you were about to do.

Charles looked up just as you reached them, his face instantly softening and his lips breaking out into a wide smile.

“Amour,” he greeted, but you didn’t give him time to say anything else.

With deliberate ease, you slid an arm around his waist, pressing yourself against his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Miss me?” you asked sweetly, looking up at him through your lashes.

Charles’ lips twitched like he was trying not to smile, already having picked up on what you were trying to do.

“Of course.”

Léa raised an eyebrow, shifting slightly.

“We were just talking about the race,” she said, forcing a polite smile.

"That's nice, but now I'm going to have to steal my boyfriend away, sorry" you said, planting a very fake smile on your face as you glared at her.

Charles didn't say anything, trying his best not to start laughing at the whole situation.

"I think Charles can decide for himself, don't you?" she said, hoping that Charles would decide to talk to her more instead of following you, his girlfriend.

You hummed, glaring at her even more threateningly.

“Meh, that depends. Charles, didn’t you say you wanted to grab some food before your meetings? We kinda have to get going if you want to make it in time” you said, turning your attention to him.

"Right, yeah" he said, coughing and clearing his throat.

“Let’s go,” you said before she could say anything, you pulled him gently by the waist. “It was nice seeing you, Léa.”

You didn’t wait for a reply before walking off, Charles stumbling slightly as he let you drag him away.

Once you were out of earshot, Charles finally broke the silence, amusement laced in his voice.

“Mon amour,” he started, “was that necessary?”

You frowned, turning your attention to him.

“What?”

He stopped walking, gently tugging you back so you faced him. His green eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter.

“You were jealous, weren't you?” Charles asked, his voice laced with an undertone of teasing.

“I was not jealous” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

He raised an eyebrow, seeing past your flimsy attempts.

“You basically dragged me away from a conversation” he deadpanned.

“She was all over you, Charles,” you said, crossing your arms. “Touching your arm, laughing like you’re the funniest person alive-”

“I am pretty funny.”

You shot him a glare, not finding the situation funny in the slightest.

“Charles" you said, your voice dead serious.

He chuckled, hands finding your waist as he pulled you close.

“Chérie, I didn’t even notice. I was just being polite” he explained, his voice sporting a lot of understanding and patience.

This was far from the first time that he had had to calm you down from a jealousy fit, but he found it cute rather than annoying.

You sighed, feeling your resolve weaken and your anger slowly leaving your body.

“I just— I don’t like the way she looks at you” you confessed, your voice now soft and quiet.

Charles’ expression softened. He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You have nothing to worry about,” he murmured against your skin. “You’re the only one I want, you know that”

You exhaled, tension finally easing from your shoulders.

“I do know that, but I just can't help the way I feel whenever I see a woman who thinks they can flirt with you when I'm there, acting like they don't know who I am” you explained.

Charles sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, understanding your point of view.

"I get it, but you don't have to worry about any of them. It's part of my job to be polite to everyone, but that doesn't mean that I want any of them. You're the only one I want, and nothing is going to change that" he said, his voice soft.

You looked up into his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and reassurance in them.

You closed your eyes and let yourself fall against his chest, feeling his lips press a kiss against the crown of your head.

After a moment, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, smirking.

“But I must say… you’re very cute when you’re jealous” he said, his voice amused.

You groaned, burying your face in his chest.

“I hate you” you murmured, your voice muffled by his shirt.

He laughed, kissing the top of your head.

“No, you don’t” he said.

You grumbled something incoherent against his shirt, making him laugh harder.

“I think I like this side of you,” he teased. “Miss possessive”

You smacked his arm, but he just grinned, pulling you even closer.

And, despite yourself, you smiled too.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

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REQUEST HERE

[rubywillkins]

for the cafe, can i request a dark mocha and a shot of espresso with almond, oat and goat milk, then caprese skewers, a hot dog, chicken nachos and beef stroganoff with a club soda to top it off? All served by charles leclerc please <3

Sure darling ♥️

Charles Leclerc| Under Monaco's Glow

Pairing charles × female reader

Dark Mocha dating shot of espresso rough sex almond milk vaginal sex oat milk fingering goat milk Penetrative sex caprese skewers Breeding kink hot dog size kink chicken nachos "God, you love it like this, don't you" beef stoganoff "you can take it, you've done it before" club soda pillow talk

The Monaco sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Charles stood on the balcony of his penthouse, his gaze fixed on the harbor below. Inside, Y/N wandered barefoot across the living room, her summer dress swaying gently with each step.

Charles turned, catching sight of her. A soft smile spread across his face as he leaned against the doorway. "You know, I could get used to this view," he said.

Y/N glanced up, her eyes meeting his. "The harbor? Or me?"

"You," he replied without hesitation, his voice low and warm.

Her cheeks flushed, and she let out a small laugh. "You’re shameless, Leclerc."

Charles pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room to her. His fingers grazed hers before he pulled her into his arms. "I’ve missed you," he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.

Y/N tilted her head to look at him. "You’ve seen me almost every day this week."

"It’s not the same," he said, his green eyes locking onto hers. "Racing, traveling—it keeps me busy. But this—us—is what I need."

Her heart swelled, and before she could respond, he kissed her. It was slow and tender at first, but it deepened as their bodies melted into one another. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, while her fingers tangled in his hair.

The kiss became a wordless invitation as they made their way to the bedroom, the glow of the city lights filtering through the sheer curtains. Charles’s hands found the hem of her dress, lifting it gently as they fell onto the soft sheets.

You didn't even realise when you both get naked... He was kissing you roughly... Like it's the only food he will have for the rest of his life..

Pinching and kneeding your breasts.. his mouth slowly moves towards your jaw.. your jaw to neck.. giving you sloppy kisses...

While he was kissing you... His hands were busy drawing circles on your clit...

He slowly inserted both of his fingers inside you...

Making you moan at his sudden movement...

He was thursting into you with his fingers.. you were thinking.. how good he gonna make you feel once he is inside you... Just the thought is making you more wet ...

And than you tried to touch his dick... Which was huge.. every time you see it.. you become surprised as how big it actually is...

"charles you are so big..." You said having mix feeling of excitement yet a bit hesitant...

"you can take it, you've done it before"

He said feeling proud... "I am going to fill you with my babies"... And he suddenly inserted in you.. without giving you time to adjust his size... Which caused you to moan...his name so loud.. you almost whimperd..

"God, you love it like this, don't you". He said teasing tone... Turning you more on...gosh you love it when he like that..

He was pounding into your core... While kissing you... With each stroke you were feeling so good .. his big dick really works well..

You were moaning his name while piercing his back with your nails.. which he is gonna love secretly...

Finally after some time he cum inside you... Filling your core with his warm thick liquid...

"god you look so beautiful with my cum inside you, you are gonna have my baby, now"

He said making you blush.

Later, as they lay tangled together, the sound of their breathing the only noise in the room, Charles ran his fingers along her bare shoulder.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, "sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky with you."

Y/N smiled, turning to face him. "What do you mean?"

He propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze tracing the contours of her face. "You’ve seen me at my best and my worst. Through wins, losses, and everything in between. And you’re still here."

"Of course I’m here," she said, her fingers grazing his cheek. "You’re not just Charles Leclerc, the driver. You’re Charles—the man I love."

Her words seemed to hang in the air, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I don’t say it enough, but I love you," he admitted. "More than anything."

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she pulled him closer, their foreheads touching. "You say it every time you look at me, Charles. And I love you too."

They lay there in comfortable silence, their bodies entwined and their hearts full. The city outside continued its endless hum, but for Charles and Y/N, time stood still in their little corner of the world.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hello, can I please request Charles jealous smut?

AN: Definitely went a bit of a different route than normal but I enjoyed writing this! Started it right before I went to the hospital and was able to finish it tonight! I hope you guys enjoy. I know its a bit shorter but I'm running on melatonin and oxi so bare with me haha

TW: multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, low-key asshole Charles (very beginning)

WC: 1.2K

Y/N POV

"Charles, what's wrong?" I ask for the third time since getting back into the car after leaving the end of year Ferrari dinner.

"God damn it, Y/N! Nothing I said nothing was fucking wrong," Charles snaps at me making me gasp slightly at the out burst.

"Charles Leclerc, do not ever speak to me like that again," I shout at him when we finally get back to the apartment.

I had chosen to keep quiet the rest of the way home, hoping it would help cool the both of us down but when we walked through the door and Charles instantly beelined for our bedroom mumbling to himself I finally snap.

"Then don't ever talk to Carlos Sainz again," Charles snap back while turning around to show he had fire in his eyes.

It finally had clicked for me. Charles was jealous which isn't something that happens often but when it does he tends to turn into the green monster.

"Charles, are you fucking kidding me! Carlos is leaving Ferrari, and I was telling him about how I've enjoyed his time with Ferrari," I shout back at him making Charles roll his eyes before stomping his way into the bedroom and slamming the door. The whole dramatics

A part of me just laughs softly at his childish antics but the other part of me is still raging with anger at the way he had spoken to me.

I make my way into the kitchen grabbing myself something to drink before grabbing the bottle of tequila and taking a shot of the bitter liquor.

When I feel myself cool down just enough I march into out bedroom to find Charles already under the covers ready for bed but instead of him laying in the middle of the bed like normal he's on the very edge as far away from my side as possible.

"I hope Leo pushes you off the bed," I scoff when Charles doesn't even acknowledge me.

"Maybe if you slept in Carlos's bed like you want I would have more room to cuddle with Leo," Charles replies back in a sheepish mumble showing me that he's getting close to crumbling and apologizing.

"It's actually why I came in here. Need to pack an overnight bag," I comment with a smirk on my face but before I can even make it into the closet Charles is up from his spot on the bed and storming towards me before pushing me against the wall.

"You think this is funny?" Charles seethes making me shrug my shoulders.

"I mean ya kind of Charles, we both know damn well I have never and will never be into Carlos, so ya you being jealous and threatened by him is hilarious," I reply back making Charles's eyes narrow slightly at me before I see his should relax slightly.

"I- 'm sorry," Charles mumbles clearly letting the embarrassment sink in.

"I don't know why it upset me so much tonight. I know it's not an excuse but I am sorry for getting jealous and even more sorry for how I spoke to you," Charles admits softly while pulling my face into his hand.

"I don't even care when you get jealous, if anything I find it hot as fuck, but I do care about the way you speak to me," I tell him softly feeling my anger slowly start to ease.

"I know and it was wrong, I really am sorry," Charles says again making me smile softly and nod my head.

"You're forgiven, but I demand 3 orgasms," I say with a smile and a nod.

"Deal," Charles says with a laugh before pulling me in and placing a soft kiss on my lips and pulling me by my waist towards our bed.

When Charles drops me down on the bed he quickly climbs up to join me pulling off his shirt at the same time.

When Charles joins me on the bed he wraps my legs around his hips before he leans down and pulls me in for a kiss while grinding his hard cock down into my dripping core.

"Charles please, I need you," I whine when I can feel my pleasure soaking through my flimsy panties.

Charles finally pulls back and quickly pulls my panties off before wasting no time attaching his mouth to my sensitive clit. He knew it wouldn't take long to throw me over the edge but when I feel him slipping his fingers into my soaked pussy I can't help the loud cry that falls from my lips.

"Fuck! Charlie," I cry when I feel his fingers grazing my G-spot while his lips are still sucking on my clit.

"Cum for me," Charles mumbles into my pussy making me cry out and cum all over his finger.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I moan in a chant as Charles continues to fuck me through my first orgasm.

"Too much," I cry when I realize Charles isn't letting me come down from my high but rather throwing me right into another orgasm.

"You want three no?" Charles asks with a smirk on his face before speeding his fingers up even more and attaching his mouth back to my overly sensitive clit.

"Charles," I cry out when I feel his start speeding all his actions up clearly with the intentions to bring me to another orgasm.

"Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself fall over the edge again not expecting the orgasm to hit me so fast.

"Fuck, good girl," Charles groans while fingering me harder and letting me squirt all over the bed and his face.

As soon as I started to come down from my high Charles is quickly pulling his boxer off before climbing back into bed and quickly rubbing the tip of his hard leaking cock through my soaked folds before finding my dripping hole and quickly pushing his whole cock deep into my pussy making me whimper the the stretch of his cock.

"Fuck!" Charles and I both groan put at the exact same time while he starts slowly thrusting his hips in and out of my soaked pussy.

It doesn't take long for me to fully adjust to Charles's size and once I do he quickly speeds up his trusts while making sure to hit all the good spots deep within my pussy.

"Fuck Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself crawling closer and closer to another orgasm.

"Fuck, feel so good," Charles cries out as his hips start to shutter a bit letting me know he was getting close to cumming as well.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," I cry out when I feel Charles bring his fingers down to my clit and teasing me until I fall over the edge pulling him with me.

"Fuck," Charles grunts out when I feel his hip shutter one final time before filling my pussy up with his hot cum.

As we are both trying to catch our breath I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him down to rest his body on top of mine.

"Fuck, that was good," I breath out making Charles laugh softly.

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you in the car and when we got home," Charles says while slowly slipping his softening cock out of me and laying on his back and pulling me into his chest.

"You're forgiven, I guess," I tease making Charles roll his eyes softly but still pull me in tighter to his chest.

"I love you and thinking about losing you makes me a bit insane," Charles admits making me smile softly. I definitely couldn't imagine my life without him either.

"I love you too," I reply back softly while curling into his side a bit closer.

[mrsfancyferrari]

More Amor

Summary: you are going out with Carlos, you can speak his language, but you don't tell him. You were hiding your abilities due to an insecurity about your ability.

Song: Friends · Chase Atlantic

Taglist: @random-bouts-of-randomness

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! Also please follow for more! 🫶

Word count: 3.5k

MASTERLIST - F1

The roar of the engines was a constant lullaby in the Formula 1 paddock, a song that vibrated through your very bones. You loved it here, the controlled chaos, the palpable energy, the feeling of being part of something larger than yourself.

Your focus, however, was often drawn to a specific corner of the Ferrari garage – where Carlos Sainz, with his disarming smile and effortless charm, held court.

You and Carlos were friends for a long time. You found him incredibly easy to talk to, his enthusiasm infectious. You liked Carlos, perhaps more than you should.

But there was also a barrier, subtle but ever-present, that you yourself had erected. It was a secret you carried, one that gnawed at you with each passing day: you spoke fluent Spanish, his native tongue.

You hadn't always been this secretive. Back in school, Spanish had been your favorite subject, a fascination with the language and culture that had blossomed into fluency. There was a time when you'd have proudly displayed your linguistic prowess, but a few harsh critiques in a university language class, comments that chipped away at your confidence, had left you hesitant.

Now, you kept your Spanish a closely guarded secret, especially in the presence of Carlos. The thought of him, a native speaker, judging your accent or vocabulary was enough to send shivers of anxiety down your spine.

This particular afternoon, you were tucked away in the hospitality area, a small respite from the frenetic pace of the paddock. Charles Leclerc, Carlos’s teammate and another friend, was perched opposite you, nursing a bottle of water.

He was in a lighter mood after a good practice session and was keen for a diversion.

“So,” he said, his French accent thick, “teach me some more Spanish. The last phrase you taught me was very… useful.” He grinned mischievously, a glint in his eye.

You laughed, remembering the rather informal phrase you had taught him the previous day. “Okay, okay,” you said, pulling out your notebook. “Let’s try something a little less… provocative.”

You flipped to a fresh page. “How about ‘Es un placer conocerte’ – ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you’?”

You broke it down for him, pronunciation and all, your voice a soft murmur that was just audible above the ambient noise. He repeated the phrase several times, his brow furrowed in concentration until he finally managed something that was, while not perfect, definitely understandable.

“Magnifique!” you exclaimed, giving him an approving nod. He grinned, pleased with his progress, and began repeating the phrase to himself, practicing the rhythm and inflection.

Just as he did, a familiar voice spoke behind you. “Que estan haciendo ustedes?”

You froze, a chilling feeling spreading from the base of your neck. It was Carlos, standing in the doorway, a curious smile playing on his lips.

The Spanish he’d spoken was casual, his words rolling off his tongue as naturally as breathing. What are you guys doing?

A wave of panic washed over you. It was close, too close. He had heard you speaking Spanish, even if it was with Charles. Your secret, the one you had painstakingly guarded, was on the verge of unraveling.

Charles, completely oblivious to the tension thrumming in the air, turned to face Carlos, his face beaming. “‘Es un placer conocerte,’” he announced proudly, his accent thick but understandable.

You cringed internally. Oh no, Charles, no.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from Charles to you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, I see. You're teaching Charles Spanish?"

You forced a smile, trying to appear casual. "Kind of," you said, your voice a little too high-pitched for your liking. "Just a few simple phrases for fun." You did not want to admit you'd been teaching him the basics.

Carlos crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe as he observed you and Charles. “Well, that’s good,” he said, his Spanish accent taking over his English slightly. “It’s always good to learn new languages.” He was still looking at you, a playful glint in his eyes that made your heart pound.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, absolutely.” You picked up your notebook and began flipping through it, pretending to be engrossed with your notes as if you didn’t already know every word you'd already written.

"What else have you taught him?" Carlos asked, stepping further into the room.

You tensed, your heart thumping wildly. “Oh, just basic stuff,” you said, your voice tight. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you wanted nothing more than to disappear. “You know, ‘hello,’ ‘goodbye,’ that sort of thing.” You hoped he didn’t see through your act.

Charles, bless his oblivious soul, was happily repeating the phrase he had learnt until it was as close to perfect as it could be. Carlos watched him, but his eyes were still on you.

He knew you were lying. He’d spoken to you in the past in Spanish and you had responded without so much as blinking. Why were you being like this?

“You sure?” he asked, a smirk dancing on his lips. He could see the panic in your eyes and the way your hands were clutching your notebook like a lifeline.

He looked at Charles again, and then back to you. “You speak a little Spanish?”

"No, I don't," you said quickly, a little too quickly. Your voice was far too high pitched. You hoped he didn't hear the fear that was leaking in your tone.

Carlos seemed to hesitate, his eyes scrutinizing yours for a moment longer. A subtle shift in his expression told you he knew you were lying, but he said nothing.

"Okay," he said finally, his tone still amused. "If you say so." He patted Charles on the shoulder. “Enjoy your lesson, Charles,” he said before turning and heading out of the room.

You breathed out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It had been too close. You watched him leave, your heart still beating fast. You were acutely aware that you needed to be more careful.

One more slip up like that and your secret wouldn’t be a secret anymore. You knew you should tell him, but your fear of not being good enough held you back.

Later that evening, while you were trying to text, a message popped up on your phone. It was from Carlos.

“Hey, you okay? You seemed a little… agitated earlier.”

You stared at the message, your mind swirling. He had noticed. Of course, he had. He was observant, perceptive. You hesitated before typing a response.

“Yeah, all good. Just a bit tired.”

He replied almost instantly. “Tired? Or hiding something? Maybe a secret language?”

You felt a jolt run through you. He was teasing you, playfully pushing at the edges of your lie. You took a deep breath and decided to deflect.

“Nah, just a very complicated article on tire degradation. Don’t let me keep you, you probably have more important things to do!”

A few seconds later, Carlos responded; “I always have time for you. By the way, you should try speaking more Spanish. It suits you.” He included a winking emoji in the text, leaving you completely frozen.

How did he know? You hadn’t said a single word in Spanish to him, apart from earlier when it was directed at Charles. He was definitely onto you.

Your heart started pounding in your chest. You didn’t know what to do. You finally replied with a simple “Night, Carlos” message and put your phone down.

You knew that sooner or later, you would have to face the truth. You liked Carlos, and you didn’t want to keep secrets from him. But the thought of that vulnerability, the risk of judgment, still held you captive.

You hoped one day you’d find enough courage to reveal your secret, to let Carlos in completely. But for now, you would keep your language locked behind a wall of fear, hoping that the wall would come tumbling down one day.

But for now, you had to keep up with the charade, and try not to let him see you were lying about knowing his native language.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The leather armchair cradles you like a familiar friend. Sunlight, filtered through the lace curtains, dances across the spines of Carlos’s bookshelves, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere.

You’re in his living room, a space that feels as comfortable as your own, except for the subtle undercurrent of nervous energy that always seems to hum beneath your skin when you’re here.

Carlos, with his easy laugh and eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles, is the source of that familiar flutter in your chest.

He's gone to the market, a quick errand for the missing ingredient – ricotta cheese, if your shoddy Spanish comprehension served you correctly – needed for his legendary fluffy pancakes.

He'd called them “panqueques esponjosos” and the way his tongue rolled over the words had made your heart do a little tap dance.

You trace the rim of your teacup with your finger, the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway the only sound. You pull your phone from your pocket, a small smile playing on your lips.

A message from Sofia, a friend from Spain pops up. You haven't seen her since the end of your vacation and you miss her friendly banter. You hadn’t told her that you knew Carlos at first. She was thrilled when you had finally spoken about him and also excited the day you finally felt comfortable enough to speak Spanish to her.

You dial her number.

"Hola, mi amiga!" Sofia's voice crackles through the speaker, warm and vibrant as always.

"Hola, Sofia! Como estas?" you reply, feeling the familiar comfort of the language wash over you. The words flow easily, a melody you've secretly nurtured for months.

You and Sofia slip into a comfortable rhythm, gossiping about mutual friends, discussing the latest drama in her life, and laughing about inside jokes from class. You tell her about how you’ve been spending a lot of time with Carlos recently, describing the comfortable silence that settles between you, the way he always offers you the first cup of tea, and the lingering glances that sometimes catch you off guard.

She’s always encouraged you to take the leap with Carlos, but you've always been too afraid of ruining the comfortable friendship you had.

"¿Y qué tal, el chico que te gusta? ¿Como va con Carlos?" Sofia asks, her voice teasing. And how about the boy you like? How is it going with Carlos?

"He's...he's good," you stumble, a flush rising to your cheeks even though Sofia can't see you. "He's making pancakes later." You hope it doesn’t sound as silly as it feels.

You are so aware of your own internal dialogue.

"Ooh, panqueques! Sounds romantic," Sofia giggles. “Maybe he will be speaking Spanish to you soon” she winks, she is completely aware that he doesn’t know you can speak Spanish.

You have not told her about the pet name he has given you.

"Don't be silly," you say, though a small part of you desperately wishes she were right. "He calls me a few names, it's kinda silly,"

Sofia chuckles, “he likes names?"

"Yeah, Cariño." you say quietly. It’s a term of endearment that sits in your chest like a warm coal, always threatening to ignite a fire. you feel your cheeks burn a deeper shade of pink.

"Ay, ay, ay! Cariño! That means 'darling'! He definitely likes you," Sofia says, her voice filled with excitement.

You laugh, trying to downplay the significance. "It's just a word, Sofia." Even as you say the words you know it isn’t true.

You adore the way he says it, the way his voice softens slightly when he addresses you as ‘cariño’. It feels intimate, a secret language woven into your friendship.

"No, amiga, it's not just a word. It's a feeling," Sofia counters, her voice knowing.

You are about to reply when you hear a thud. A bag, probably groceries, hits the floor with a soft, muffled sound. You turn, your heart leaping into your throat, to see Carlos standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with surprise.

His face, usually so open and inviting, is frozen in a state of shock. A second later he looks hurt.

His gaze is focused on you and he's holding the bag of groceries precariously in his hand as if he's forgotten that it is there. There's a strange mix of bewilderment and something else – hurt, maybe? – flickering in his eyes.

He stares at you, mouth slightly ajar, and no words are coming from him, which is so unlike Carlos to be lost for words.

You freeze, phone clutched in your hand, heart hammering against your ribs. The blood rushes to your ears and you suddenly feel as though you’re unable to breathe, feeling as though he’s looking at you differently.

The Spanish words, the comfortable rhythm of your conversation with Sofia, the comfortable feeling you had all but a moment ago evaporates into the air.

“Carlos…” you whisper, your voice sounding small and weak. You feel your cheeks burn and you can only imagine how red your face is.

He sets the other abag on the floor with a soft thud, the sound echoing in the suddenly charged silence. “You…you speak Spanish?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

The playful light in his eyes was gone, the crinkles that always appeared when he smiled did not appear this time.

You nod slowly, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. You feel sick at the thought of how he must feel, you should have told him. You should have shown him the real you sooner. “I do,” you managed to say.

You sat perched on the edge of Carlos's ridiculously plush sofa. Your heart was still thrumming a little too fast, admittedly by the man himself. Carlos.

He was pacing in front of you now. He ran a hand through his already tousled dark hair, the movement highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw.

“I still can’t believe you spoke it,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

You fidgeted, picking at a loose thread on the throw pillow next to you. “It’s not that big of a deal,” you mumbled, your gaze fixed on the intricate pattern.

The idea of speaking it, of letting it flow freely in front of anyone, especially him, had always filled you with a surprising amount of anxiety.

“Not a big deal?” He stopped pacing, planting his hands on his hips, his gaze finally locking with yours, a faint amusement dancing in his brown eyes.

“You mean the fact that you’ve been listening to me struggle through English for years, when you could have corrected me all this time, is ‘not a big deal’?”

A blush crept up your neck. You avoided his eyes again, feigning interest in the small water stain on the coffee table. “I… I wasn't correcting you on purpose.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. It melted the nervous knot in your stomach a little. He dropped down beside you on the sofa, the cushions giving way with a soft sigh.

He turned, his whole attention now focused on you. “So, why didn’t you? Why did you keep that amazing Spanish tucked away?”

You took a deep breath, the words tasting like lead in your mouth. “I guess… I wasn't confident enough,” you finally admitted, the admission feeling like a weight lifting off your chest, however slightly. “I wasn't sure about my accent. Or if I even sounded… right.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his hand reached out to gently touch your arm, his fingers sending a jolt of warmth through your skin.

He’d always had a way of making even the simplest touch feel charged. “Mi amor, you are always right. Never doubt that. And your accent… it’s beautiful,”.

You finally looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of sarcasm, but finding only genuine sincerity. The term of endearment was a fresh shock, and it sent little shivers down your spine. “You really think so?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He nodded, his thumb now tracing lazy circles on your skin. “Absolutely. It’s unique, and it's yours. It's part of what makes you, you." He leaned closer, his eyes boring into yours. "And I want to hear more of it.”

The air crackled, charged by the intensity of his gaze. You were acutely aware of the proximity between you, of the warmth emanating from his body, and the way his gaze lingered on your lips.

He'd managed to convince you to stay, the casual invitation coming after a day spent working with his team at the track. Your initial plan was always to return to your hotel, to maintain the comfortable distance that you had been living in.

But then you saw him, his hopeful expression and the puppy-dog pleading in his eyes and you found your resolve melting away. You told yourself it was the pull of shared language, the thrill of having someone that understood you; but deep down, you knew it was something far more profound and far more dangerous.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice a low, husky plea. “Speak more amor? Just a little bit.” His brown eyes, usually full of mischievousness, were now pools of earnest emotion.

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat creeping up your face again. “What… what do you want me to say?” you asked, the Spanish words a little hesitant at first.

A wide grin stretched across his face. “Anything. Tell me about your day. Tell me you think I’m the best driver on the grid,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with humor.

You laughed, the sound light and airy in the quiet space. "You're arrogant, tonto," you said, the Spanish rolling off your tongue with more ease than you expected.

His grin widened. “But you like me, arrogant and best driver?” he challenged.

"Perhaps," you replied, playfully avoiding his question. "It was a long day. I spent most of the morning working from home. Then, I had lunch with..." You trailed off, momentarily forgetting the English word for the person you had lunch with during the day.

"Your coach?" Carlos suggested, his gaze unwavering.

"Yes! My coach. We discussed the race strategy and went over some notes," you continued, the Spanish flowing much more easily now.

You felt a strange sense of liberation, of finally letting go of the fear that had been holding you back.

He listened intently, his head tilted slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. Every now and then, he would let out a small chuckle or offer a prompting question.

“And now?” he asked softly, interrupting you mid-sentence. “What are you going to do now?”

You glanced around his living room, its sleek lines and modern features a stark contrast to the cozy comfort of your small apartment.

"Now? I suppose... well, I guess I'm going to stay here." You held his gaze, each beat of your heart pounding in your chest.

He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb softly stroking your skin. "You're perfect," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "You being here... it makes everything feel perfect."

You shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. “Carlos…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

He leaned in, his gaze locked on your lips making the moment feel charged with unspoken promises. “Just… say it, amor,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You closed the distance between you and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was everything you expected and far, far more. It was a melting pot of the connection you’d so desperately tried to suppress.

It was a declaration in a language both shared and unspoken. When you finally pulled away, you were breathless, your heart pounding against your ribs.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “Tell me in Spanish,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You took a shaky breath, finally letting the words flow freely, without reservation or fear. “Te quiero, Carlos,” you whispered, the words finally escaping your lips. I love you.

His response was immediate. His lips crashed against yours in another kiss, this one deeper, more passionate, and full of a raw, unfiltered emotion.

You pulled him closer, your arms wrapping around his neck, losing yourself in the moment, in him, in the magic of finally being understood, finally being heard, finally being loved in the most perfect language possible.

The fear, the insecurity you had carried for so long, seemed to dissolve, replaced by a dizzying rush of hope. You had found a home in his arms, in his eyes, and in the shared language that had brought you together.

And in that moment, in his arms, with the city twinkling outside the window, you knew, with absolute certainty, that you were exactly where you were meant to be. . . .